Monica
Bothered
I am to blame for whatever is happening to me right now.
If I hadn't involved my emotions, I would've still had the freedom where I won't worry in case I wanted to be myself.
"We're here. What do you want to order?" Francis when we arrived at the store with the speaker where he could order food through a drive-thru.
"Any flavour of pizza, as long as it doesn't have pineapple on it."
Who puts pineapple on their pizza? I guess, we just have different tastes for pizza.
Maybe Paris won't follow me here in the Philippines, right? So I wouldn't need to worry about his presence near me.
My mind was confused again when he messaged me. I suddenly forgot for a short moment that there's Paris in my life. I am married to him and I have to fulfil my duty after this freedom he has given to me.
Francis had already ordered and we went to the parking lot to just wait for it. A few more minutes passed and a male kitchen crew delivered it in our direction. Francis ordered twelve boxes of a large pizza. Is he planning to feed the whole mansion and vineyard staff with those?
"One whole box is for you. The rest will be for the employees." He said.
I guess I'm right.
"Okay. Thank you."
He put them in the backseat first and drove home. When we got home, a series of vehicles also arrived to deliver the sacks of food we had bought at the market earlier. With each driver who came, he shook hands with them but could not escape my sight of the folded banknote he was squeezing in his hands to secretly give to people.
After that, the male staff went out to enter the groceries in the kitchen. He also left the pizza he bought with them and handed a box to me.
"Is there anything you like to eat aside from pizza? I'll order the driver to buy you the ones you want." He gave our driver the key to his car.
I can't think of anything else right now.
"Pizza is enough," was all I could say.
In the bedroom, I was eating pizza while the flat-screen TV was on and watching a movie. I still can't get through the text message I received from Italy out of my mind. Paris is waiting for me. To fail? So what? So he can control me?
Do I deserve to be a wife? I don't know if I can.
Cazzo!
I couldn't stand it anymore and went down to my bed. Turned off the TV and went down to the kitchen with a box of my pizza. I didn't have lunch and it was five o'clock in the afternoon. The pizza I eat isn't hot anymore but I don't care anymore.
I feel like drinking right now. When I turned to the cupboard just above the refrigerator, I was even more impressed. I remember that Francis kept his wines there. But it would be sad if I was the only one to finish a bottle.
Don't underestimate me. I've been drinking wine since I was twelve years old. There are many times when I finished the whole bottle myself. I can drink. I just don't want to do it alone.
I went up again to go to the library. Francis was there because he had work to do. He is the only person with me here in this big mansion that I can accommodate.
I knocked twice before I enter.
"Do you want to drink with me?"
He's wearing a reading glass. Facing his laptop while holding papers in his left hand. He looked at me.
"Monica, it's five o'clock right now. Not a good time to drink." He said.
"I know the time! And drinking alcohol doesn't require a specific time. So are you down?"
Come on. If you want me to stop bothering you, better yet accept my invitation.
"I'm doing something. If you want to drink, get some wine from the cupboard. Drink by yourself."
"But I don't want to be alone!"
I knew he couldn't stand me. I showed him my pitiful face so that I could convince him more of what I wanted to happen. And I was right, he stood up and left his table unattended to have a drink with me.
He took the bottle from the cupboard and opened it. Get two glasses.
"What brand is this?" I asked about the whiskey he took.
"It's a cinnamon whiskey,"
You can add cinnamon to a whiskey?
"Really? From where?"
"It is popular in Canada. Thirty-three percent alcohol, so be mindful of drinking it." He reminded.
I have never heard of a whiskey to has a cinnamon flavour. I wonder what it tastes like.
Francis is pouring the drink into the two glasses right now. When he finished pouring the first glass, I immediately grabbed and drank it straight.
"Monica!" He scolded me.
At the first taste, you can really savour the sweetness of cinnamon. While it travels down to the throat, you can feel the firey feeling going down to the esophagus. I can really feel the heat and the perfect blast of it. I like this whiskey.
"I was supposed to mix it with ice and orange peel. As I've told you, it has thirty-three percent alcohol volume."
"I don't want it to be mixed with anything. I like it pure and hot."
He poured another shot into my glass so I drank it straight again. I sighed as I put the glass down on the counter.
I wanna back out with this ridiculous marriage. I never realized how suffocating it could be. Having this kind of responsibility and obligation to your partner, no, I can't do this.
I want to call Nonno right now and tell him that I want to divorce Paris. I just can't see myself being married at this age. I want to call him and explain my side. It has only been three months and I want to back down. I really can't do this.
Another shot of whiskey was poured over my glass and I drank it straight again. The heat and the firey feeling lingered behind my throat. Which I like the best.
I hate myself sometimes for being impulsive.
And I hate when I tend to blame myself at the end for the things that I have done.
Maybe I was deep in thought when I drank two more glasses in a row. I first drank the whiskey in my glass and when I was not satisfied I snatched his glass from his hand to drink its contents.
I have drank five glasses already and I can see that my vision is becoming blurry. My stomach was growling because of the intensity of the heat that the whiskey has given to my organ.
"Do you have a problem that you want to talk about?" He asked.
Is it that obvious for him to notice?
"You..." should I tell him?
"Do you still remember how I liked you before?"
"I am going crazy every day that we would meet. That's the reason why I was frequently visiting the factory. Because I always wanted to see you. Because I always missed you."
I put my hand on my cheek, supporting my head. I looked straight into his eyes. Since he's just beside me, I can easily glimpse his meaningful eyes.
"What if I'm not a Carluccio... or I can still be a Carluccio- it's just that what if you met me differently? Would you also like me?"
I am amazed by the confidence I have right now. Maybe my courage increased even more because of the alcohol.
"What could you not be liking about me? I am pretty. I am smart. I came from a respectable family- not just here in the Philippines but also in Italy and all over Europe. I am a fine lady as they say. I am also rich. Why... why Francis? Why would you not have the same feelings as I have for you? "
He stopped pouring the whiskey into his bottle. Looked at me and shifted in his seat. Now I have his full attention.
"I have always been wanting to say this to you but I just couldn't find the right moment. I have long waited for this moment to happen. Despite everything that has happened, I still like you. I can't really explain but that's just how I feel. "
He's not saying any words.
"I went to Italy and got married but all I could think of was you. Paris gave me his full attention but yours is what I always craved. I want your compliments and admiration just like how you praised me whenever I did well before."
Why are his lips so red?
I jumped off the counter seat and leaned my body closer to him. His lips are tempting.
"Do you know how much I love to kiss you?" I sighed.
I grabbed his collar by force and I applied my lips to his. Finally, I kissed him. I just couldn't take it anymore and he is just so tempting.
It was long. The kiss I gave him was long. No one moves from the two of us. I just closed my eyes and savoured the softness of his lips. I kissed a man before, Paris of course. But it was just a quick peck and I didn't take it seriously. But for Francis, all my feelings and emotions were alive. This is the first time that I like kissing a man. But only for him.
It looks like he has no intention of returning my kiss so I separated my lips from him. I looked him in his eyes but they just remained straight. Didn't he like my kiss?
I let go of his collar and took a deep breath. Maybe what I did was wrong.
I pressed my lips into a thin line and held it.
"Do you not like it?" My bold question.
He's not saying any words and just looking at me.
"I've read it online that men like a woman who does the first move," or have I read it wrong?
I'm sure about the source and I am certain of that context.
When I like a man, I do not want to beat around the bush. I act straightforwardly. I confess with confidence. And I didn't lie.
I was about to return to my seat when he squeezed my waist and pressed our lips together again. This time, he moves. He's leading me to move my lips so I can match the intensity of the kiss he gives me. The kiss became deeper so I embraced his nape and run my hand on his hair. I couldn't think straight at all but the kiss is the only one I wanted to focus on right now.
He grabbed my waist closer to his body so the space that has left in between us would fade. I keep my eyes shut but I felt that he stood up from his chair. He cuts the kiss so I opened my eyes frustratingly.
I can see lust and desire in his eyes right now. It was like a burning sensation I had in my stomach as I drank that whiskey.
He held my hand tightly and dragged me. We hurriedly climbed the stairs and went to the room. No words are needed and we kiss hungrily again. As soon as the door locked, we kissed and walked toward the bed. He's on top of me and kissing me while removing the buttons of my shirt. I am reaching to the hem of his T-shirt but he felt it so he removes his shirt instead. His upper body is bare on top of me.
This is the first time I saw his body. I expect that he has a good build and I was right. He's so ripped.
I reached for his lips again and put my hands on his nape. I don't want to stop kissing him.
He removes my shirt without breaking our kiss. He then removes my shorts and throws them away somewhere. I am left with my underwear and I could feel his skin which sends shivers down my spine.
God, if this is a dream, let me finish it.
The way his hands were roaming all over my body can be very addicting. This will be the first that the man has touched me. He touches my face, my neck, my chest, my stomach, my thighs and my feet. He doesn't seem to be satisfied and keeps stroking me.
I know where this will go. And I'm not gonna stop it because I want it. I want him all over me.
I lost track of time and I don't know how long we have been kissing. We take alternate turns on the bed. I sometimes could be on the top and he will sometimes toss me back under him. He's turning me on every time he would touch my thigh near my private part. I am gasping for air because of the tickles.
But his touches are not enough for me to be satisfied. There's something in me that is wanting to explode. It bothers me because I couldn't concentrate.
He turns me over again under him. He sat in between my thighs and looked at my private part. He is still clothed down there so I sat up and reached for his belt. I am shaking while I tried to remove his remaining clothing. And when I did, his private part is already saluting in front of me. I got shocked, I never expected him to be this big!
I gasped again for some air to help me calm my nerves.
Even though I could not recover from my shock, he was already supporting me horizontally. My thighs were spreading widely because he was in between them and he didn't let any minute past to finally touch it.
"Oh!" I gasped.
I am very aware of the anatomy of my own body and I can feel that he's making circular movements over my clitoris. My core is tightening from the way he's touching me down there. I don't know where to hold and I keep arching my back.
"Francis!"
I looked at him only to find that he was amused by my reactions and moans. His eyes were full of lust and desire and I know for sure that he can't stop now.
He stopped touching me but he positioned himself in between me to insert his shaft into me. I held his shoulders because of the sudden pain I felt as he slowly entered.
"Shit Monica, you're a virgin?" He asked.
I couldn't find any words to say because of the pain.
From the way I reacted, he will know the answer to his question.
He took it in slowly but is stopping in the middle of my wails. He's making sure that I will feel less pain.
I just nod every time that he wants to move in. I tried to hide my pain as much as possible and I think that it was just normal so I let him be. When he's finally in, he took slow movements in and out of his shaft that draws the pain and a tingling sensation.
After a few thrusts, I happened to adjust. It was not painful anymore and his movements are getting faster. All I could feel right now is the tightening of my core and the tingling sensation on my cervix. It's like he's teasing me and I can't control what's inside of me that is wanting to come out.
"Oh!" I moaned every time I hit the orgasms.
He's getting faster and every time he would thrust inside, I am heatened. My legs are shaking, my toes are curling and I can't moan anymore. I hit my climax as soon as he groaned.
The whole night was long enough for us to have another round. We did it on the sofa inside the room, inside the bathroom in the shower and on the bed. My whole body is sore and I am too tired to move. Later on, I felt that my eyelid was getting heavy and I slept.
There are a lot of questions I constructed as soon as I woke up. First, I am not in my room. Secondly, it is very sudden that I am with a man, sharing the same bed with him. Third, my body was jailed in a man's arms, our skin is touching and we are both naked underneath this comforter. My phone is not with me so I don't know the time right now.
I removed the limbs that are hugging me and sat up on the bed quietly. I am feeling sore down there and it hurts. I remember everything that happened last night and I am not gonna deny it. It was the most sensitive and memorable night for me. I picked up all my clothes and went to the bathroom naked.
I took a shower and even filled the tub for me to relax and ease the soreness of my body. This was the longest time of bath I have ever taken.
When I went outside the bathroom, the man was already gone from the bed. I heard the crisping sound at the next door and it was a walk-in closet. Maybe he's there. Well, I have to leave.
I opened the door but a maid was standing in front of me that I barely notice and we crashed. I never realized that she was holding a tray of food and drinks so it spilt on me. I cried in pain as the very hot liquid poured on my arm. The tray was dropped and all the content of that tray was also spilt on the floor.
"Signora!" The maid yelled in shock.
My arm hurts so much as the pain from the hot liquid is not yet fading away.
"I'm sorry, signora. I didn't notice you." The maid apologizes to me as she helps me wipe my arm and clothes that have been stained with coffee.
"No, it's fine. It's okay. We both didn't notice each other. It's not your fault."
She keeps wiping my arm with her towel even though it hurts. My arms are turning red.
"What happened here?" I heard Francis' voice behind me.
Wait. Francis? Why am I hearing him from my behind?
"Sir, I spilt coffee on Signora Monica's arm." The maid said honestly.
He then grabbed my arm from behind and checked it. My arm became more red and painful.
"Get me the first aid kit. Find someone who can prepare another breakfast for us and clean this mess." He said to the maid and turned to me immediately.
He's still checking my arm as it keeps getting redder. He pinch it slightly which made me twitch in pain. He then dragged me into the bathroom and opened the sink, he placed my burned arm onto the running water.
"Don't take that off there until I tell you," he said and left behind me to exit the room.
Am I in his room?
Is he the man I slept with?
I remember everything but not the faces.
Is he the one I have sex with last night?
He came back after a minute with the first aid kit in his hands. He turned off the sink and dragged my arm going to the sofa. He opened the box and get the petroleum jelly and a bandage. No one is talking and I am just watching him while he treats my arm. He applied the vaseline evenly on my arm and wrapped it with the bandage.
"Are you okay? Are you still hurt? Is the bandage too tight for you?" He asked.
I still can't forget what happened last night. Did I really do that? I can still remember that I made the first move. How brave am I that we went into something deeper?