Page 82 of Tell Me What You Want

Crazy because of the surrender he senses, Fernando slides down my panties. I can tell he’s surprised when I open my legs for him. Without a pause, he plants his mouth on my vagina; an instant later, my panting echoes in the room as I let him eat me, suck me, and penetrate me with his fingers.

My eyes are closed, but I feel Eric’s eyes on me. His blazing gaze reproaches me for my behavior, even as his desire rises. I don’t want to open my eyes. I don’t want to see Fernando. I want to keep my eyes closed and to feel Eric soaring over me.

Suddenly, Fernando stops and I open my eyes. He unzips his jeans and begins to roll on a condom.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

I nod. I can’t talk.

He smiles, wordlessly. An instant later, he very carefully enters me. But impatience overtakes me, and so I’m the one who goes hunting for what I want. I lift my hips and hook onto him, wanting him to use all his sexual prowess. My assault surprises him. I hear him huff. He grabs my hips and begins to plow into me over and over again. I like it, but I need more. My muscles tighten in anticipation of a deeper attack, a greater dominance, but after several more thrusts, he comes and drops on top of me.

I close my eyes. I feel like crying. I want Eric. I want it to be him who takes me and makes me tremble. What I was doing a month ago with Fernando or any other man was marvelous, but now, after Eric, it’s dull and boring.

I feel Fernando’s head on my neck. I hear him panting from the effort. When he pulls himself up, he asks if everything’s all right. I lie and say yes. I don’t want to hurt him.

He helps me up, and I go to the bathroom. I close the door and splash water on my face. I examine myself in the mirror.

“What have you done to me, dickhead?” I whisper.

Once I’ve freshened up, I go back to the room and find Fernando sitting in a chair.

“I’ve got to go.”

His face tightens.

“No, Judith ... don’t leave.”

Aware that I’m being a bitch, the worst of the worst, I go up to him and give him a quick peck on the lips.

“Please, Fernando, go on with your life and let me go on with mine. We’ll see each other in Jerez.”

I turn and leave. Once I’m on the other side of the door, I close my eyes and sigh. I feel so bad. I call my friend Azu. She tells me where they are, and I head there. I need to get drunk and forget about what just happened.

31

When I get to Amnesia, my friends ask about Fernando. I let them know I don’t want to talk about it; they respect my silence and don’t inquire again. My good friend Nacho orders a Coke for me.

“Drink ... It’ll do you good.”

An hour later, I’m much more relaxed. Nacho has taken care of making me laugh and has only let me drink Coke. According to him, liquor isn’t a good idea when somebody’s down. While we’re all hanging around and talking, I notice his arm. His tattoo gives me an idea. I grab his elbow and pull him close to me.

“Is that new?”

“Yes, do you like it?”

I nod.

I’ve always liked tattoos, and men with tattoos.

Eric, of course, has nothing remotely resembling a tattoo. His skin is soft and clean. Nacho, on the other hand, is a tattoo artist and is committed to illustrating his entire body. Suddenly, I have an idea.

“Nacho, would you give me a tattoo?”

His almond eyes brighten.

“Of course. Whenever you want, Judith.”

“How much would you charge me?”

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