Part 28

"Poet as soon as you land come to my office." This was the last text I received before switching my phone to airplane mode. 

Lazaro was my literary agent. I couldn't sleep on the plane on account of the excitement. A new offer from a publishing house or maybe someone wanted to buy the movie rights to one of my books.

I couldn't sleep a wink, the adrenaline kept me bouncing in my window seat. 

Groggy I landed in MIA, and as soon as the word "aceré" hit my inner ear I knew this cubanito was home.

Strutting down to baggage claim I remembered that Miami had no Über service at the airport and resolved to be the GQ on cue at the taxi stand.

Frantz was my cabbie, his creole made me feel at home. "Where to messier" he exclaimed as I switched airplane mode off. 

"Come ta le vous?" I asked in an attempt to humanize our economic exchange. And in his thirty two teeth smile he replied, "se viens monsieur."

Si mi amigo, yo estoy campana. 

"Take me to Coral Coral Way and Ponce de León."

Hillstones was refuge and Ruby was the bartender that would steer me straight. She brings a smilie to this worldly bar fly. Her dark cropped hair and my distain for formality would figure me out. 

Dropped off halfway up the block, Los Locos from the valet service remembered which way to turn me, I was in their care. 

Walked into Hillstones from an eight hour flight, had two Macallans and walked down the block past my favorite Starbucks, made a left at Bulla and elevator up. 

Lazaro had summoned me, and my constitution broke into the penthouse with an eight hour flight, two drink in me, kind of smirk. 

"Hey dude what's the drama about" I sarcastically delivered. And he shut down on me suicide way.

Then I knew we were fucked. 

The view from his conference room at 2525 Ponce De Leon owned the north as far as the eye could see. 

I stared out this curtain of glass in an attempt to drown the awkwardness in the air. 

He began to wail uncontrollably, I had no hiding place. His dread imprisoned me into inquiring. 

"What's wrong my friend?"

By now he had sunk his face into the palm of his hands and all I could see, was this emasculated creature in pain. 

To be continued. 

Part 27

There are rooms that wait for us to inhabit them with the restlessness of our soul. 

Morning broke and the unfamiliarity of the room provoked a deep sigh of reflection. 

Still wrapped in a cocoon of silk, I looked around the room for a familiar sign. 

Where was I? 

What had I been involved in? 

Then as effervescent as a bubbling brook, the bubbles of the night broke through the veil. 

I was naked to the truth. There was no reconciling with the animal that lived under my fingernails. 

I had mortgaged my salvation at the site of flesh. 

Springing from the bed I landed firmly on the cold floor, sending an unsavory chill up my spine. 

Walked into the bathroom and stared into the mirror as if my reflection had answers.

Take note reader for the previous nights sexual tryst I would give up ten years of my life and three digits from my left hand. 

Yet as sensually gratifying as it was, I recognized a new stripe on this tiger. 

I had gone to Barcelona to be with Carolina and shit had gone sideways on me. 

She had gotten used to treating me like a second class citizen. 

Sex yes, plenty of it. But love wasn't sitting at the table and I was starving. 

I found myself craving the kind of distance from this truth, that only Miami could afford. 

Back to Miami, back to Mario and the cast of characters of my Pulitzer life.

To be continued. 

 

Part 26

She left Pulitzer medals on my nightstand and all I did was buckle her into the über ride....... 

Sex isn't sex, sex is hunger feeding on itself. 

The bark of the hanging tree tattooed on her torso signified that thrust after thrust Olivia and I were feasting on each other's foreign flesh. 

I let go of the ebony knot that furled my grasp and moved down her chiseled shoulders, sinking ten digits into her collar. 

Olivia was the obstacle, I intended to obliterate into the hardwood. 

I trusted every thrust to deliver shivers down her spine and timber straight through and through, I was pine. 

My mouth was free and her naked neck screamed for a fresh bite. 

Snarling guttural beast exhales, I broke her delicate skin with my canines and blood gushed. 

Disappearing into the salt of her blood, I closed my eyes and sunk my pearls, so that my lips would suck on her. 

Blood sweat and sex I swallowed as my victim became over and over. 

Rustling leaves brought me back from the abyss. 

Odalys was spread eagle on the nest I had prepared and her fingers dared me to cross the border without permission. 

Parting from Olivia was sour yet Odalys smelled of mixed perfume and beaconed me to straddle her. 

I ran my left hand on her forehead to clear her dark hair away from her burnt wood eyes so that we would be enchanted by the depth of our sin. 

Clearing her hair with one stroke and burying my right hand under her right ass cheek for position was why I was made man. 

Her eyes swallowed two seas and three storms as she gazed at me in my enthusiasm. 

In a panic she stole herself from the eclipse and started to feel around for the gushing that escaped her. 

This beast of a woman hadn't had heaven and earth meet on her body before. 

She had questions and I was drunk on the answers her womanhood was delivering. 

Olivia's naked body tied to the tree. 

Odalys naked body beneath me. 

Our carnal desire. 

Noise in the distance crept up while I buried my hunger into Odalys and subjected Olivia to watch. 

What had been the face of eroticism a few seconds before now had been tinged by desperation. 

Olivia's nakedness was adorned by her vulnerability. Her submissive role in this threesome would now reveal the real tiger. 

The noise grew closer. It was a group of expired partiers drumming their feet closer and closer, while our sacrificial maiden fretted at the stake. 

She thrashed her arms in a panic, her eyes bulging as desperation grew. 

In the unspoken language of calamity Olivia spoke to my readiness as I sprung into action releasing her into my arms and laying her next to Odalys. 

The silence of the night bathes us in its quiet as the moon seized to exist. 

To be continued. 

Part 25

Writing a play by play depiction of the scene as it plays out is the challenge that Pulitzers are awarded for. 

Odalys kicked of her cork wedges and did the happy dance struggle to get out of her jeans. 

My struggle was staying in the moment, the little boy in me was doing cartwheels inside my head. 

The poor street light made its way on to our flesh, bright enough to sneak a peak at our hedonism. 

She threw her jeans on the ground and kept her pink lace panties. 

I shoved the little boy aside and the man in me sprung into action. I raked the ground with my shoes as a bull readies the soft soil for assault. 

Take note reader "there are no victims, only volunteers."

Odalys went to the hanging tree to torment Olivia with her mouth. 

If I can't take it off in three seconds, I don't need it. I ripped my shirt open, buttons flew into the darkness. 

I busied myself reading the nest with my pants and my shirt, the floor would receive the flesh in style. 

I turned to the tree and saw a vision that caused me to pause and drown in the moment. 

Olivia was piercing the silent night with her moaning as Odalys buried her face in the folds.

Screams of delirium broke the quiet leafs into a rustle. 

Olivia was propped up on the hanging tree, her ass protruding the silhouette cast by the moon. 

Her baby blue panties rested on the six inch stilettos that adorned her ankles. Her strapless bra rested on her belly mid clasp. 

She lived moment by moment tied and tethered to her submissiveness. While demon woman feasted on her sovereignty. 

I watched, painted in the patience that perfumed this upright heathen midday in Carolina's pad. 

Strange thoughts cross your mind as shit like this crosses your cross. 

Was this the kind of situation that gave Mario the freedom to think that I was a scoundrel. 

Fuck Mario. 

Windshield wipers in my vision quest wiped that shit out of my thought process, cheap whore quick. 

Odalys caught me looking and smirked, she was eating my lunch and was enjoying the anchovies, while I starved from a distance. 

Dared to be, I became. Leaving for the tree in my golden nakedness if only to wrestle Odalys from her foraging. 

Mid stroke of her tongue into Olivia I bit her lower lip and quenched my thirst with the salt of her blood. And made my presence felt. 

While Odalys foraged on Olivia's loins I became the lion and tore her pink panties to shreds. I stabbed my dared existence into the underbelly of dominance itself. 

Three tango as the moon shines, and I roar. 

Thrusting into Odalys, hell bent on crushing her pelvis, the leaves on the tree tussled as the branches enjoyed the show. 

This was a death match, I had been slow to catch on but someone would die or be left behind. 

Kissing Odalys' neck while intending to tattoo the dimples on the small of her back with my pelvis thrust after thrust, kept me from Olivia. 

Odalys was enjoying being the obstacle and I ran short on patience, with one thrust I shoved her left and the right of passage was mine.

Olivia dripped to the point of embarrassment, I caught wind of that as I inhaled the thirst from her lips.

Kissing Olivia while resolving to have Odalys suffocate on mine gave me freedom to roam Olivia's heaving breast. 

Then famine for one and the spoils of war for the other, I circled my wagons and let Olivia catch fire and burn to the ground. 

To be continued. 

Part 24

Pulitzer and I are so intertwined that as I look in the mirror I see him tipping his béret at me. 

Again the display on my phone lights up and reads "Meet me at Casa Gaudí."

I paid for the dried fruit, made my way up the curb and wrangled a taxi. In my excitement I left the dried fruit behind. 

Closed my eyes as soon as I had delivered my instructions to the cabbie and sunk my adventure thirsting body into the twenty minute cab ride. 

In the darkness of my closed eyes I traced Olivia's body, as if I was going to replicate it. 

It was mid afternoon the crowds of hungry conquistadors and tourist alike were feasting al fresco. 

Traffic was heavy so I got off near El Corte Ingles and proceeded to stroll up Passeig de Gràcia. The walk would calm my nerves and pump blood in all the right places. 

Casa Gaudí as it's commonly called is one of many of master architect Antoni Gaudí creations. 

Noticing the shoes I deliberately took time raising my gaze up her thigh. 

Crossing the divide between her hidden world and her torso made me aware of her sheer polka dotted blouse and the Chanel bra that hid behind and called every hair on my body to stand in attention. 

"Hola Brava" is what my lips and tongue decided to spit out as this chameleon stabbed the sidewalk with her six inch heels. 

Her shoulders were bare but for the strings that kept her from a five alarm fire. 

In her minuscule words she showed me tickets and gestured for me to walk this way. 

Following directions is as adverse as I know how to be but if the devil wears six inch heels and she bids you to comply then you comply. 

Took the tickets from her hand asserting myself on the scene. She followed my lack of compromise by holding on to my left had and strutting in step with yours truly. 

The cavernous creation of Gaudí can only be experienced first hand any attempt for me to do so is detrimental. 

Stuck my six foot three inch Roman like armature in all that Olivia thought a Gaiudí connoisseur should, and then elevator down. 

Sidewalk and gin made great friends so I introduced us to them at the nearest bar.

She being the local twig and me being the foreign leaf, she took it upon to instruct and I played silly for her. 

The church bell like cubatas filled with ice cemented by a spiral spoon that kept the tonic bubbles from breaking so that the gin would make its presence and the thirsty would drown. 

After a few of these drown your brain cells and heart ache concoctions she got a call, I kept on enjoying my drink and purposely gave her space to handle her handle. 

I could tell she was quarreling with herself, maybe the liquor or she genuinely wanted to extend my presence into the evening. 

She buried her phone in her clutch, raised her burnt wood eyes at me and said "There is a party in Tarragona", I gestured my response and paid. 

Tarragona is an hour and some depending on traffic. The cab was small and I crowded her with the might that makes me be. 

I grabbed her right knee high enough to position my self for attack, then I filled the void between her legs with the same digits that write this scene. 

Piercing a window between moist panties and thirsty lips I sunk a battalion of my digits and put them to work. I stroked a world of passion with wicked intentions for more out of her, bitting her neck and running those bras down to her belly and gorging on her heaving breast. 

I didn't kiss her on purpose, I drilled every well but kept my lips away from her mouth. 

The scene appeared and the cabbie being an old dog at this game cleared his throat in announcement. 

Jumped out the taxi with my appendage in attention as Olivia adjusted herself into a savagely aroused woman. 

I pulled her out of the cab with the kind of force that excludes ambiguity of desire. 

We walked with the confidence that sex dresses you with to this party. 

This was an outdoor event that had been going on for a few hours, right at the edge of the ocean at Rambla Vella near the Circo Romano. 

Olivia seemed to know everyone, she didn't bother introducing me this was not the dinner party crowd but rather the feast your spirit kind. 

We kept moving up the avenue twisting our bodies up and through, then we were dead on our tracks. Olivia by the kiss of this stranger and me by the passion of their kiss. 

When in Rome you do as the Romans, we weren't in Rome proper but the Roman Circus a hundred yards away drove that metaphor home.

"Odalys this is the Poet" Olivia told her. That must have been code for suck his tongue and leave him speechless, cause she went for me as if she hadn't been fed in weeks. 

As soon as I was let go from the kiss I looked up at the moon and made a pact with her to always let myself be guided by her. 

I now had Olivia on my left and Odalys on my right. 

Got a few stares but the smirk on my mug took care of that. 

Odalys had been there a while she had a direct line with the bartender and drinks flowed.

I made small talk with Odalys about my Gaudí experience but I could tell her glassy eyes weren't interested. She interrupted my short story with a long kiss, all the while Olivia sucked on my neck. 

Odalys was wearing faded jeans that made her ass scream at me with a yellow shirt. But what caught my eye was the scarf she was wearing as a belt, it looked Moroccan, it was multicolored with gold stitching that accented her blonde curls. 

They took turns kissing me and each other as the night wore on. 

Between the kissing I caught wind of them scheming a plan but having the night turn this way, I surrender myself to whatever they were coming up with. 

We walked down the avenue got to a plaza and took a left down a dimly lit alley. It was all good these women kept giggling and I was enjoying the disorientation. 

I was being led and loved it. 

We made some distance between the party, I could hear the music fainter and fainter with every step. 

The stars came into the scene and the moon took it all in. 

This was now a dirt road, yet I asked no questions they might have led me to an abyss and pushed me off. 

The only way I could tell we were in a grove of trees was because of their silhouette. These were short thick trees, I had no idea what fruit they bore. 

None of that was important at this point. 

What was absolute here was that these two beautiful women the stars and the moon were out to play, and I was game. 

"They are cork, they are cork trees" in a laughter induced voice Odalys blurted out "Touch them see how soft the bark is."

Not being one needing to be told to do things twice, I rubbed my hand on the flesh of this noble tree. 

"Hug it, feel it" Odalys gestured with her arms. I did what she said and so did Olivia. 

Seeing us hugging the tree Odalys was the last one to join in the fun. 

We made a human circle around the tree holding on to each others hands. 

I saw Olivia across me and began to kiss her. 

Odalys let go of our hands and started tugging at her waist. I assumed she was beginning to get undressed to begin the feast, but she had other intentions in mind. 

As Olivia and I kissed still holding on to each other around the tree, Odalys garbed Olivia's left hand and tied the scarf to it. 

Not sensing any apprehension when Odalys nudged at me to release Olivia's right hand, I complied. 

Olivia was now tied with her arms around the tree. 

I felt confused for a moment then Odalys began to unzip her painted on jeans. 

To be continued. 

Part 23

I left the massage parlor and stumbled my nobody noodled body down the narrow streets of Barcelona. Guided by the moonlight as the Gargoyles of La Sagrada Familia kept guard. 

Carolinas pied à terre was near Las Ramblas and I had consciously memorized the alleyways that led back to her warm pillows. 

The stoop appeared and I stepped on every step with thirst. 

I crossed the door and cursed my way down the hall. My alcove was the last one on the left. It had a balcony filled with gothic alabaster carvings . Half jokingly I said to myself the original Count Dracula must have landed here. 

I laid my cold bones on these crisp linens and prayed for orgasm filled dreams. 

Morning broke over the Mediterranean and I took it all in. The guilt of such a view warred with my desire for Olivia's loins and lost. 

I hate writing in the mornings, I usually reserve them for sex but Carolina was in her chalet in Andorra and yours truly was the loneliest ranger in this piso. 

I wrote for half an hour, hit the shower and got dressed to take the city. 

Breakfast at noon has always been my style and today wouldn't be any different. 

My cafe con leche and three fried eggs with plenty of Catalunias best grain bread hit me like a Mike Tyson's left hook, now I was awake. 

I chased boredom away yet loneliness never left my side. 

I was haggling the price of dried fruit with a merchant at an open market as I felt the strange murmuring in my coat pocket. I was so engrossed in my conversation that I had no idea what the twitch was about. 

Stuck my free hand into my wool jacket and read the words that would forecast  the next twenty four hours of bliss that were going to rain on me. 

Hola Poeta. 

To be continued. 

Part 22

You would think that Barcelona is sprinkled with delicate Españolitas yet it's the fiery Latinas that drown the noise of the city with their moaning. 

I met Olivia at a massage parlor the day I arrived. I was in need of untwisting, the jet lag had kinked me up. 

The room was tastefully decorated, the bed was low to the ground. The sheets were blue with silver trimming. 

This was not my first time in a massage parlor but it was my first sensual massage. 

She opened the door, I walked ahead of her, as I was taking the room in she disrobed. Then there were three of us in the room, Olivia, me and the dragon. 

It looked and felt as if she was born with it. The tattoo that adorned her from her arm pit to just above her knee was alive. 

I later found out she was from Bolivia. she had onyx hair it was thick and lush, I loved it. 

Her breast fit in the cup of my hand, her nipples were very dark, dark to the point that they had a shine to them. The curve of her ass was perfect. This beast was compact yet enthralling. 

She bid me to lay and I complied.  

She stuck her left hand in a jar and scooped up warm oil that she generously smeared on her body. She rubbed on me as if I was the ocean and she was swimming for dear life. She was on me. 

She wouldn't speak it's as if she had perfected this art, she wasn't massaging me with her hands but rather her body. 

Her weight on me, her hair on my face, it was disorienting. 

I grabbed her hair and brought her lips to mine but she resisted and barely let her lips flutter atop mine. I was intent on stabbing her with my spear. I whispered to her ear that I would tip her generously for the full affair, I was so aroused. 

She resisted and kept on the war path to destroy my body with hers. 

I surrendered to pleasure, everything in me left. 

As I lay there she got the water running and called for me to shower with her. 

I don't know if it's the culture or her professionalism but she lathered and scrubbed me from head to toe. 

I returned the favor by letting my fingers explore her flesh as they cleansed this beauty. 

We dried up and dressed when the small talk began. She asked me were I was from and why was I in Barcelona. 

I told her that I was a Cuban poet from Miami and that I would explain to her my reason for being there if she would go out with me and show me the city. 

She asked for my number and said that she might send me a Whatsapp. 

I left with a smile on my face and hope in my heart for more.

To be continued.