Once again and that’s it

We finished our coffee talking about his life and mine, our respective jobs, and I am surprised to learn that he is a surgeon. Last night he put the integrity of his hands, the most valuable asset for a surgeon, at stake to save a stranger. How can I not sigh at that?

He carefully gathers the cups on the tray and begins to make his way to the kitchen. I look at the bag waiting patiently by my side. Why not? Just a few drops to trigger what’s inside, in case it’s true. After all, it’s only for scientific purposes, I would only be testing a theory.

After convincing myself that this is not a bad idea, I take the wallet, find the vial, and carefully pour a few drops onto my fingers. I rub my neck, behind my ears, and my breasts. And, as if I don’t want to, I walk to the kitchen and stand next to him, leaning my weight on the counter. Almost reflexively, he averts his gaze from the cup he’s washing and gives me a smile. He goes back to his work and finishes cleaning everything. He takes a cloth and dries his hands, then leaves it perfectly spread over the edge of the sink.

The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, revealing his forearms again and giving me the perfect excuse to touch him.

“What does it mean?” I ask, caressing a tattoo on his right forearm.

“Midway upon the journey of our life, I found myself within a forest dark, for the straightforward pathway had been lost. Ah, how hard it is to tell what that forest was, wild, dense, and dark, the very breath of death it seemed to be. I went a little way into it and came out upon the other side. Seven times have I been borne thither, upon the shoulders of the messenger, who now cometh from the deep. Leave all hope behind, ye that enter here!,” he recites, approaching me without even looking at the tattoo, only looking into my eyes.

I can only focus on his lips, moving slowly just millimeters away from my mouth, whispering words that I am unable to comprehend. A muffled moan escapes my throat, revealing my most intimate desires.

Without saying anything, he kiss me, his tongue making its way into my mouth and delicately caressing their dance partner. He separate from me only to lift me up in his arms and take me to a more comfortable place. He walk with a determined look while I allow myself to rest my head on his chest, where the beats of his heart welcome me.

He gently place me on a king-size bed, lying on top of me, softly caressing my face and running his fingers through my rebellious hair before kissing me again. He lower his hand to my belly and then slip it under the elastic of my pants.

His fingers gently stroke my skin, delicately making their way inside me while I close my eyes and the moans that escape my lips to give voice to my passions are consumed by his mouth.

He sits up and starts undressing me, with no hurry at all. I enjoy every touch, every caress he can give me. Naked, I admire him from the bed as he unbuttons his shirt and pants, and his underwear also ends up on the floor among our tangled clothes. Finally, his skin meets mine, and part of him slides into my wet and eager center, calming the burning of carnal desires.

His mouth travels to my neck, and there he devotes himself to worshiping the magic of burning, sweet, and forbidden notes.

My insides collapse in a sea of sensations, I feel like I’m dying and being reborn under the weight of his body, under the movement of his hips. The convulsions of my sex alert him that it’s time to let go, the rhythm increases, his nose buried in my neck, and with a deep breath, he surrenders to the relief his body demands.

He places a kiss behind my ear and separates from my chest, supporting his weight with his arms. I see him admiring me, fascinated and perplexed.

He rests his forehead against mine and our noses meet, a beautiful smile spreads across his face making me want something more, but as soon as he takes another deep breath, I realize the sad reality: it’s not me he desires. What will happen when the perfume runs out? Will he still be interested in me or, on the contrary, will it be a repeat of what happened with Mauricio? After this, a union that even made my soul vibrate with so much sweetness, I couldn’t bear to have his brown eyes look at me with rejection.

What mess have I gotten myself into?