CLOUD GAMES (PART III)

My emotions amplify at the sight of him. I stand still in Solomon’s penthouse. It’s the only suite on a twelve-story condominium with two sprawling terraces offering a perversely bold view of the Hudson River. The city’s dazzling lights crystallize the water like a blanket of twilights. Tonight I feel less glamorous. Four nights ago I was his synthetic product; the haute couture girl in a sequined Oscar de la Renta dress and Prada shoes, with hair weaved in layers, makeup outdone. All which were contribution from his cash and credit cards. But now I am a picture of insecurity. Beauty ran out the window and jumped off somewhere between guilt and self-consciousness. I am a woman who is focused, who has her priorities straight. I am awake from his prosperous world that surrounds me.

Solomon’s stare is bold. “Claudine, you were missed.” His smile serves so many purposes and is contagious. His eyes dance a smoldering flame sending a feverish ache between my thighs and I am taken back to the first time we met. Edward had told me about a party at a museum where he got hired as a security guard, he encouraged me to attend and even though we had no money he borrowed from a friend to buy me a nice dress for the gallery’s summer exhibition. It was the first time I was introduced to art and the electricity of one man who took my breath away. Solomon.

He arches an eyebrow. “It’s been a week. All you had to do was call me.”

“I’ve decided to stay with Edward.”

He nods, unable to hide his disappointment. “I know it wasn’t an easy decision, clearly the best man won over your heart.”

I say, “I’m doing what feels right.”

“Obviously, you are.”

My heart says its right to be with my husband, but I feel my skin charring off from Solomon’s lack of touch.

I take a good look at this ambitious and highly accomplished human being who has given me what money can’t buy. When the money is long gone I will always remember him and our intimate scenes a thousand times over in my head. I know an experience like this will never come my way again. I can’t ever recall Edward treating me with such passion. I guess it has a lot to do with the common issues behind closed doors of his premature ejaculations, and his erectile-dysfunction medications that leaves him virtually depressed.

Solomon asks, “Can I have you kiss me one last time as if you mean it?”
I want more than that. I close my eyes; perhaps shaking my head will help to get rid of the thought of him penetrating me.

“Look, Solomon.” My voice changes, becomes firm. But I am powerless. My wall crumbles, turns into pebbles when we stand close. Too close.
His chiseled face baked by many sun looks down at me. I have the difficult task of looking up at him. Brown eyes in a bronzed face. A man who doesn’t have to say much to get me wet. The August air breezes in from the opened windows, whispering the strongest scent of desire.
I must walk away, I repeat to myself. But I am unable to move. The air still whispers a nonverbal secret through silk curtains. I am thirsty. I am hungry for him.

He says, “Time to say goodbye.”

My eyes swell up in tears. This is really goodbye. He leans down, his hands on my waist and the ferocity of his passion is found in his warm lips. He sucks on my tongue and I return the favor with urgency, feeling unconsciously swept away. I am spellbound when he lifts me up. I let out a moan. He takes me to his bedroom where he eases me down onto the king-sized bed which is dressed in rose petals. The huge Victorian-styled room is warmly lit with votive candles and incensed sticks offer a sweet fragrance of vanilla. That’s exactly the magical world I am trying to walk away from.
Solomon carefully peels off my clothes, my nipples firmed instantly under his touch. He leaves me naked in bed, pauses to undress and in the shadow of the night I see the beauty of his six-foot frame holding me captive. He licks my clit softly gently and put my legs over his strong shoulders. He then sucks from the source of life as if sucking hundred yards of water, making the sexiest sound with his tongue exploring through my pubic hair. With his hard body atop mine, his lips found the softness of my breasts then moves down to my stomach, placing butterfly kisses on my navel. I gasp with enthusiasm when he strokes his swollen dick lovingly against my belly. I spread my legs wide enough to welcome him. He lifts me up slightly against the bed, his hands are firm under my buttocks and my breathing becomes heavy with anticipation. He slid himself inside me and I found myself drowning in a floodtide of ecstasy. I wrap my legs around his waist and his groan is deep with bass. My bottom rises. I grip onto the sheets, welcoming each of his thrust which sends me to a spasmodic quake unchoreographed by his own tremors. My spasms are sweetened like juice on his bed mixed with tears of joy, sadness and confusion. Over and over he whispers his love for each part of my body, kissing me from my forehead down to my toes.
We breathe hard with sweat when we go two more rounds and gradually we slow down, falling into each other’s arms like two peaceful doves. Asleep.

********

A little over a year flies by quick. I am pushing my daughter in her stroller. We were coming from Madison Park’s playground. It is a dry windy day, nice enough to sit and watch other parents in the park pushing their little ones in the swings. My girl is too little but she loves to watch the older kids have fun. Everything is so new to her. I am walking down 27th and Park Avenue, my stomach growls with hunger. I stall when I pass by a restaurant down the block where my husband warns me to never eat. I decide today is the day to give this eatery a try, more concerned about my empty belly. I stroll in with my daughter and a hostess greets me with a casual smile.

She asks, “How many in your party?”

“One plus a child.”

I get seated at a booth by the windows and immediately I pull out my cell to call my husband.

“Hi baby, how are you?”

He says, “Busy as always. How’s the baby?”

I look down at Amerie on her stroller, drooling and chewing on a toy.

“She’s fine…I’m going to have lunch right now.” I don’t tell him where.

“Really? Alone?”

I say flirtatiously, “Well, you’re not close enough to stop by and join me.”

“Hmmmmmmm…think of me if you decide to have dessert.”

I purr, “I will. I love you.”

He says, “Me too.”

As soon as I hang up, a man standing nearby approach the table. He looks very familiar except now skin is flawless, no gray hair in sight and he is broad and muscular. I can see he has taken good care of himself. A makeover which makes him physically striking. We look at each other and the earth stops moving.

His voice is sharp. “Welcome, can I get you something to drink?”

My eyes shot up in surprise. “You work here?!”

He pulls out his notepad and pen. “Yes, and would you like to start with an appetizer?”
He doesn’t seem at all surprise by my reaction.

I say, “How are you? You look really good.”

”Thanks. What will you have?”

I look down at the menu losing my train of thought. “Uh…water is fine for now.”
He walks away and comes back with a glass of water. My mind is running this marathon, wondering if my husband is aware of this man working here. It might explain why he didn’t want me to ever step foot in this is uncharted territory. Amerie coos and wiggles her bottom on the stroller, her way of telling me she wants to get out. I’m not ready to set her free. I am in need of a strong drink to calm my nerves. My eyes roam around the empty restaurant, waiting impatiently on the waiter’s return. I have questions, questions
He emerges from the kitchen, and I try to figure out what he’s thinking.

He says with a hint of attitude, “I am not thrilled to see you here.”

“I…I know.” It is written all over his face.

“What do you want?”

I say, “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Am I supposed to believe that?”

“Believe what you want.”

“Just like the night when you promised to leave Solomon and came back to me with lies…”

I say, “I can’t control what happened in the past.”

He shoots back, “Yes, I know. And I’m glad you have no control.”
Amerie waves her little hands up at me. I caress her curly locks and she giggles.

He asks, “How old is she?”
“Nine months”
“You did us a huge favor.”
“Excuse me?”

He says in a nasty tone, “By leaving me…you think you won but you didn’t.”

“Edward, this was never about winning or losing anything.”

“Yes, it was. It was all about money to you, nothing else mattered. Well, let me set the record straight. Two of us played the game and I was paid by your rich man to get rid of you. He wanted more than one night and I asked him for more money to let you go.”
I shout, “What are you talking about?” My heart is heavy and I feel a cold chill down my spine.
He says sarcastically, “You do understand the words coming out of my mouth, right?”

“Solomon would not pay you a dime. He loves me. It was never about the money.”

“Why don’t you ask him? As a matter of fact he will tell you the whole story. We were lovers…and when I lost my job at the hotel and asked him for his help he offered on the condition that I allow you to sleep with him whenever he pleased. I was disgusted with the idea and jealous but desperate for cash.”

“Are you telling me you two knew each other before I met him and that you’re gay?” I look at him in horror and disbelief. I feel as if a hand closed around my throat.

He continues, “He was a guest at the hotel where I used to work, that was the main reason why I got fired because they find out about our affair. Being with Solomon was just an experience; I’ve never been with any other man after him, besides it was all about the Benjamin’s, baby.”

“That’s not true; Solomon wouldn’t do this to me.”

Edward’s smile is vicious. “Oh yeah by the way he desperately wanted to have a baby and he knew with me, well, you know I couldn’t carry one for him. I guess he needed you and your egg around.”

I want to spit in his face and kick him in the balls, but some of what he’s telling me is probably true. I get up to leave. He is laughing his way to the bank and I am crying inside with a broken heart. My feet touch concrete yet I am no longer floating this cloud 9.
The End
© 10/2006 by C. Delaleu