Translation of Love - By Alice Montalvo-Tribue Page 0,39
then lick the tip gives me a needed sense of control and power.
“Fuck, Baby,” I hear him say as I run my tongue up and down the entire length of him. The sound of him losing his carefully held control makes me smile. I kiss the tip again then slowly take him in my mouth.
Victor lets out a long breath of air, and gently picks up my hair, holding it away from my face. He’s doing his best not to grab my head, knowing that it would make me feel trapped. He lets me have this moment to do what I want and I take advantage, picking up the rhythm, as I take him as deep as I can. I release him from my mouth and begin stroking him harder with my hands. He tightens his grip on my hair and I know he’s close, so I take him back in my mouth and increase my pace, needing his release as much as he does.
“Shit, Baby, stop. I don’t wanna come in your mouth.” I grip his hips, letting him know that I’m not going anywhere, ravaging him, loving the feel of him in my mouth. I look up at him wanting to see the moment of release and as I do, he throws his head back, groaning in pleasure as he spills his load into me and I watch him come undone. This is not a part of sex that I’ve ever enjoyed. In fact, I’ve always hated it; but with him, it’s beautiful. I relish in the fact that I have the power to give him even a little bit of what he’s given me.
Victor reaches down and pulls me up to a standing position. He hugs me tightly and kisses me. It’s the kind of kiss that hits me in every part of my body, making me dizzy and leaving me breathless. In this moment, I leave my doubts and fears behind and focus on him. I know that it will take time, I have a long road ahead of me, but if anyone can help me to move past the road block I’ve placed firmly in my way, I know Victor can. I have to let him try.
“You know you didn’t have to do that, right?”
“I know. I wanted to.”
“You’re so beautiful.” I shudder at the comment. I wish I could see what he sees when he looks at me. It’s what I used to see when I was younger, wearing all the latest trends, expensive handbags and my fake blonde hair. That image is so different from the one of today. It’s not that I think I’m ugly, I know I’m not, but beautiful is something different. To be beautiful, I’d have to love what’s inside as well as out and up until very recently, I haven’t been sure if I liked any of it.
He turns off the water and leads me out of the shower, grabbing a towel and slowly drying me off before wrapping me up in it. It makes me feel pampered and taken care of. It makes me question everything I ever thought to be true about what men do, how they act. Maybe he’s just an exception to the rule. He dries himself off, wraps his towel around his waist and leads me back into the bedroom.
“You wanna go out for breakfast or do you want room service?” I want to skip breakfast altogether and stay in bed with him but I know that’s a dangerous choice. I need more time before I can take that step. I know he’s doing his best to take things slow, but his idea of slow and mine are two different things, not that I’m complaining.
“Let’s go out for breakfast,” I respond.
“Okay, then I’m going to pack my stuff up and check out. I have to get on the road this afternoon. Is it okay if I hang with you at your house till then?”
“Of course.” Deep down I wish he didn’t have to go. It’s just another emotion that I’m not ready to face yet.
Work has been more miserable than usual this week. Testing new programs is never easy, the glitches usually seem to outweigh the benefits. The work has been a combination of tedious and mundane, and my hours have been out of control. Normally, I’m thankful for any available overtime but this week my mind is elsewhere.
Victor and I spent most of Sunday together. He followed me home so that I