Marco Antonio
"¿Quién habita en tu ser? Déjame saberlo.
Abandónate al fuego de ésta hogera, pues
cada leño que arde, es un lamento procedente de mi alma
que se muere por tenerte..."
Pilar García Olivar
Have you ever felt like you had forgotten about yourself because of someone? like, with just one look you feel he takes away your soul?. You get paralyzed... but you are capable of doing anything in order to have him!... That has happened to me, and I never thought that I had come to the point of no return, in the moment of not knowing about myself.
Marco Antonio had a great body. His skin was dark brown: an exquisite and provocative tone. His hair was as dark as the midnight sky; His nose and lips were perfectly well-formed and equivalent to his entire face. Besides of being delighfully "doted by the nature", what was most attractive about him were his eyes. His look, strange and mysterious at the same time; Those enormous green-grayish eyes bored the privest part of me; Those dominant and mocking eyes... those were what I whised most! He was extremely atractive, but sometimes I wanted to be far away from him, becasue I looked like he knew, not only the deepest secrets inside my mind, but my fears, feelings and ambitions. Was like if he had known me for a long time.
Was a rude, exigent, taciturn, authoritarian and with very bad intentions man, an when I met him, he was surrounded by a lot of elegant people. Somebody told me that he was very rich and used to spend his fortune on the most polished and exotic pleasures of life.
That night I was alone, his luck seemed to be better than mine with those glamorous young women around and all over him. I considered myself not good enough for having a man like Marco, so I decided to run away after a drink. I walked quietly towards the bartender and asked him for a martini; He smiled at me, like trying to start a conversation, but I was interested in someone else.
There I was, thinking in my melancholic existance, tasting the bitter flavor of the alcohol burning my throat, like a ball of fire. I was starting to feel dizzy when I felt a calid hand on my shoulder; I turned my face, and that was the first time I saw those beautiful eyes.
I could not refuse his invitation for a drink in his house... oh gosh! he was lovely and I was infatuaded!!
Inside of the golden BMW he seemed to fill the entire space. I was too small in comparison with him. The dark suite was made with a delicate kind of silk, which shone graciously with the street lights as if it had little diamons on it. I could see the contour of his perfect face, that looked like carved in marble; His scent impregned my mind, my heart, my desires. I was totally falling into ecstasy with his entire person... but, that was not the closest moment I had with him.
When the time came, I was open-mouthed when I saw the luxurious mansion in which my host lived. He parked the car and ordered me to stay in it until he opened the door for me, his voice resounded in my head, and I knew he was the man I was waiting for throughout my life. He opened the door, extended his hand and I took it... again, I felt that warmth with he had touched me hours before; His hand was soft but strong. He took me to an enormous room. At the bottom, there was a chimney in where the wood´s burn could be heard; The walls were covered with bookcases and hundreds of books: all kind of sizes, colors and covers. I thought that my host was a cultivated person when I took a poetry book; It was in French, and the cover was made of black velvet, soft as the words written on it. The title was "Grands Poèmes", each letter embroidered to the velvet with golden thread. But my attention was caught by other thing: an exquisit smell never known by my senses. It made me turn in the opposite side I was.
My lover was staring at me like interested in my curiosity; I ashamed smiled to him, put the book back in its place and walked towards him. The intoxicating odour proceeded from silver plate which contained small snacks delicately prepared. In that moment I could not know what they were made of. I deeply inhaled and pleased with the fragance. When I realized, I was resting on a confortable sofa, covered with magnificent pieces of cloth and almost over me... was him, holding the plate. Antonio took a small desert between his fingers and brought it to mt mouth; I had never tasted a superb strawberry like that, it had a sweet and erotic flavor. The chocolate, which I tasted after, did not nnot go directly to my mouth. but before, it passed through my neck, moving slowly and in a zigzag way, provoking a certain desire on me. After that, came a piece of the most delicate peach, that traveled in a lustful way through my breast leaving a humid path with its juice.
I did not finish feeling those sensations yet, when I felt a smooth touching alouding itself certain liberties extremely immoral, but that strange lover, won my trust. I am not sure if the intense ardor came from the chimney or from our bodies but it was almost sofocating me; my skin was bristled by his evil breath; his audacious lips made me desire more his body while they were discovering my secrets. Sometimes I feel ashamed of what I permitted myself to feel.
That night was endless, I could meet Marco more than three times and each one better than the previous one. While he was resting between my arms, I pleased myself looking at his beautiful face, it had the tranquility and innocence of a baby, but the maturity of Michel Angelo´s David. I was wondering what he was dreaming about and if I was in those dreams.
I felt like my life would be different since that moment, and I visualized my future. With great gladness I smiled and deeply falling a slepp, I closed my eyes.
The next morning, anxious to see my lover, I noticed that something was different. I streched my arm, the longer I could, but the only thing I could touch was the mattress and the wrinkle sheets; A desperate and empty feeling fill me... my lover was gone! Besides Marco Antonio, the bookcases, the books, the chimeny, the snacks and the sofa had disappeared as well.
Some people think that dreams are unrealized desires that live inside us, emerging from the unconsious in order to be performed; Others think that those dreams never come true.
But I not just believe, but I know, Marco Antonio was real! That magestic night was not a dreams nither a wish; that great moment, the fascinating sensations, the beautiful words... were the most perfect night of my life.
