My Night with Don Juan

Disclaimer: I do not own Don Juan Demarco...but I do own the OC

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“Jesus, why can’t you do anything right? You’re such a fucking idiot and a royal pain in my ass!” I sat silently as Mike continued his rantings. I knew that I had two options. I could answer back to him which would only egg him on further, making this current berating session last even longer. Or I could do what I always did and sit quietly, waiting for him to storm out. I chose the second option, staring at my hands as his voice shook through the small restaurant.

“I can’t even stand to look at you. You are without a doubt the sorriest excuse for a woman I have ever seen. What a waste of fucking space!” He stood up so abruptly that the table wobbled, sending the glasses of water and wine toppling over, their fluid covering the plates of food and slowly trickling onto the floor. He tossed his napkin at me and stomped out, slamming the door and sending a tremor through the room.

There were only a handful of people in the restaurant but, despite their sideways glances, I was happy Mike had left. I had been through this before with him and it was always better if he just walked away. People staring at me was nothing new. Mike’s antics had a way of attracting an audience.

As the tears slowly began to rise in my eyes I noticed the pool of water and wine that had accumulated on the floor. I grabbed the napkin from my lap, as well as the one Mike had thrown at me, and began to clean up the mess. No waiters or busboys came to help me. Perhaps they were more content to sit and watch the train wreck I had become. And with my face to the floor, shamefully cleaning up the spills Mike had created, I let the tears flow freely.

“Please, señora, allow me to assist you.” A hand magically appeared holding a napkin. I looked up, expecting to see a waiter who had finally come to my aid. I felt a combination of shock and confusion when I noticed it was in fact a young man in what appeared to be a Spanish costume, complete with cape and mask. I was so taken aback that at first I said nothing, allowing him to clean up the bulk of the mess.

“You really don’t have to do that,” I finally said after he had completely sopped up all the spilled liquid. I glanced back at a few waiters standing to the side of the room, each one looking like a deer in headlights.

“No woman should have to clean up after such a man,” the stranger answered, sitting back on his knees. His expression was a mixture of consolation and sadness. It was almost too much for me to bare. I could stand for others staring at me but basking in the glow of their pity was more than I could handle. I stood up quickly and ran out the door, desperate to get away. I ran down the block, away from the stuffiness of the restaurant. The fresh air felt better but I just needed to cry. I found a stoop in front of a building at the end of the block and sank down onto it. My head fell into my hands and I cried. “How had I let all of this happen to me?” I thought.

A cool breeze flew by and I was suddenly aware that someone had sat down next to me. I sat up, wiping the tears away and looked into those same dark eyes behind the black mask. He seemed like something out of a silent movie. Beautiful, but strange.

“I’m really fine. You didn’t need to follow me.” My voice was shaky and raspy from crying.

“Well, señora, if I hadn’t followed you, you would be crying alone. And no one should have to cry alone.” He had a strange Spanish accent which I couldn’t tell if it was real or put on. “Would you like to talk?” He seemed kind and patient but the cynic in me was on high alert.

“I’m sorry, but are you dressed for some kind of costume party or something?”

He scanned his attire as if there were nothing strange about it. “Scuzi?”

“Listen…”

“Don Juan.”

“Listen, Don Juan,” I could help but smirk, “it’s very nice that you’re concerned about me, but I’m going to have a very hard time discussing my problems with someone wearing a cape and a mask.”

“Oh, si, I understand.” He untied the cape around his neck and lay it over his arm and then pulled the mask from his face. “Is that better, señora?”

I was suddenly speechless. He was so handsome it nearly took my breath away. With his mask on I was unable to see how deep and intense his beautiful dark eyes were. Everything about his fine features seemed as if they had been sculpted by some great artist. I found it hard to compose myself and I wondered if he sensed this.

“Do you care to talk now?” He leaned in closer to me and I felt the need to cry again

“I just wish none of that had happened.” He watched me with a furrowed brow as my tears fell.

“Was this man your husband?”

“No, oh god no. He’s my boyfriend…Was my boyfriend….Is…I don’t know.” I didn’t know what to say. This certainly wasn’t the first time Mike had humiliated me in public. But somehow I always found a way back to him. I was never as upset the next day, when he would call and apologize. And then everything would be fine for a few weeks until the whole thing started again. I didn’t know if it would be the same this time but I had a sneaking suspicion that it would be. I was weak that way.

“What is your name Señorita?” I liked how he had changed my title. It sounded like I was some kind of princess.

“Estella.”

“Estella,” he said, as if trying the word on like a pair of gloves. It seemed to swim on his tongue. “That is perhaps the most romantic name I have ever heard, Donna Estella.”

I laughed “Well, I am by far the least romantic person you will ever meet. I hate Valentine’s day and I’m allergic to chocolate.”

“Ah, but you see Donna Estella, all women are romantic. They just need the right man to help them realize it.”

He stood up and extended his arm to me. “Will you allow me the pleasure of escorting you home?”

I stood up, quickly wiping my tears away. I felt slightly better but I was sure I would cry once or twice again before I actually got home. I didn’t want him to see my cry so much. Twice in one night was already embarrassing enough. “You don’t have to do that. I only live a few blocks down the road.”

“But you see Donna Estella that would make me less of a gentleman. Please don’t rob me of that honor and allow me to escort you back to your villa.” Was this guy for real?

“Okay,” I answered tentatively as I took his arm and he led me down the street. We walked slowly, as if we were in some kind of dance and I wondered if this was what people called a promenade. It felt strange but graceful at the same time. This man was entrancing me and I was nervous I might not come back down.

“I hope you do not find me too bold, Estella,” he finally said. “But may I ask how long you have been with your man?” The question came out of nowhere but I felt inclined to answer. He had been so patient with me up until then.

“It’ll be two years next week.”

“And has he always treated you in such a manner?”

I opened my mouth to tell the same lie I had told all my friends. That Mike was really a good person and that this was the only time. But I was tired and drained and didn’t feel like lying for Mike. Not with this man. “Yes, for as long as I’ve known him. He has the worst temper. But he seems to yell at me even when he’s not angry. Somewhere along the way I became his punching bag.” I cursed myself as I felt the tears rise again. I fought to hold them back.

“Then, my I ask, why you stayed with him?”

I answered before thinking. “I could never do any better.”

Don Juan stopped walking so suddenly that I actually stumbled. My arm broke away from him and I looked back, his eyes pained and confused. “Did I just hear you correctly? That you remained with this animal because you believed you could never have anything better.”

I was equally shocked by my statement but realized how true it was. “I’ve never had much luck in the love department.”

He face softened and he gave me an odd sideways smile. He walked up to me, standing so close I could feel the heat of his breath. “You’re luck is about to change Estella.”

We walked the rest of the way in silence. I had been dumbstruck and couldn’t think of a single thing to say. I would occasionally glance at him, noticing a hint of mischief in his eyes. I still wasn’t clear as to what had just happened. What had he meant? Was this Don Juan character making a pass at me? Was he planning on seducing me? Had he been planning this all along? I felt like I could laugh it off but then I would look at him and would feel my pulse start to race. I wasn’t going to lie to myself and say I wasn’t attracted to him. He was perhaps the most attractive man I had ever seen. But that seemed to have a reverse effect on me. It made me feel nervous and minute. If this was the real Don Juan and if I was to be his next conquest, I didn’t know if I would have to ability to resist him. But I also didn’t know if I was up to the challenge.

As we reached my front door, my nerves doubled. It had been so long since a strange man had accompanied me home and I was unsure of myself. I didn’t know the proper etiquette. I was certain he was going to see right through me and find the naïve, shy girl underneath.

“Um, would you like to come in, you know, for some, um, coffee?” I sounded like a bumbling idiot.

The intensity in his eyes didn’t change as the corners of his fine mouth curled into a smile. “Si. I would like to come in.” I swallowed hard and fumbled with my key to unlock the door.

“I’m sorry it’s such a mess in here,” I said as we entered my small ground floor apartment. “Mike says I’m the worst housekeeper in the world. I leave a trail of a mess everywhere I go. It’s really not my fault. I was raised in a home where cleaning up after yourself wasn’t so important. I guess I have my parents to blame for my messiness. We blame our parents for everything, don’t we?” I was rambling and I could say a coherent thing. I stood outside myself, watching as I said anything that came to mind and cringing when I couldn’t seem to stop. “I think it’s because I’ve never been one to impress anyone. At least, not with my home. People seem unimpressed with my home. It’s just not that impressive.” Shut up, Estella. Shut up!

I was on the verge of knocking myself out, anything to stop my idiotic rambling, when I felt Don Juan’s arms snake around me from behind. He pressed his warm palms to my stomach and his lips gently grazed my neck. I couldn’t move. It was as if the world had stopped turning and nothing made sense. I felt the stubble of his goatee on my skin and it sent chills through me as it gently tickled my skin. He seemed to be barely kissing me, just resting his lips on the sensitive flesh below my ear. When I felt his tongue take a quick lap at my earlobe I was so startled that I spun around to look at him. His eyes peered down at me and for a moment I felt dizzy and lost. He began to walk forward and instinctively I walked backwards, away from his advancements. I took three steps back and found myself backed against a wall and Don Juan leaning over me, his hand on the wall beside my head. He brought his finger to my lips and began to trace their outline. I could feel my lips trembling under his touch.

“You know, they say that a woman’s mouth has more nerve endings than her sex. And that if she is kissed correctly it can be more arousing for her than anything else.” His voice was deeper than before and I felt it turn my knees to putty as his finger rested on my bottom lip. “You have an exquisite mouth Estella.”

He bent down, barely touching his lips to mine. The anticipation was excruciating as it sent a deep throb between my legs. I had never felt this much wanting for anyone and I sensed all thought disappearing from my mind. His tongue circled my lips, dampening them and I shivered. I desperately longed to have his mouth on mine and I wondered if he sensed this. Finally his tongue slipped between my parted lips and danced with mine as he kissed me. It was so deep and passionate that I felt my knees start to give out. Don Juan held me around the waist, offering as much support as he could. I held onto his shoulders as my body fell into his. I was amazed at how quickly the kiss turned from gentility to fierceness and I felt like my whole body was on fire.

He abruptly broke from the kiss, leaving me panting. “I want to make you feel like a woman tonight, Estella. Will you give yourself over to me completely and allow me that honor?” I couldn’t speak and so I simply nodded, a thrilling excitement flooding my body. I didn’t know how things had changed so quickly but I knew that if this man didn’t make love to me soon I might crumble.

He grinned at me as he brought his long, elegant fingers to the top button of my sweater. With the meticulousness of a surgeon he began to undo the buttons, one by one. My breath quickened and I felt my heart in my throat as he came to the final button and maneuvered the sweater so that it fell to the floor. His fingers gently brushed the skin above the white lace of my bra and I could feel my skin heat beneath his touch. He bent down and kissed the length of my collar bone, his soft dark hair sweeping under my chin. His hands moved behind me and with a swift movement he undid the clasps of my bra. He moved further down, kissing between my breasts and down to my belly. When he lowered himself to one knee he pulled the thin lace material of my bra down with him and let it fall on top of my sweater.

I felt naked and exposed but painfully excited as he brushed the pads of his thumbs over my nipples. I felt a chill go through me as they hardened beneath his touch. His hands were soft and warm and they seemed to know exactly how to touch me. I watched his eyes as he moved his hands down the sides of my body, over my waist and the swell of my hips. He moved them down to my knees and began to inch them under the hem of my skirt. He moved his hands so slowly, feeling his way up the sides of my thighs and I felt dizzy. I had to lean against the wall just for support or I might have fallen over. His hands moved up to my hips and finally to the top of my panties. He tucked his thumbs into their waist and with the same slow pace, moved them down my legs. I stepped out of them as they reached my ankles and he pulled them over my shoes. He tossed them on top of the rest of my clothes and then looked up at me.

“Undo your skirt Estella.”

I moved my hands to the zipper in the back of my skirt and fumbled as I unzipped it. My hands were shaking as he watched me but I was finally able to get the zipper down and I slowly pushed the skirt over my hips and let it fall to the floor. I stood before him naked and utterly self conscious. While I desperately wanted him to make love to me I didn’t want him looking at my body. I felt ugly and wrong. He was clearly a man who had been with many women and my body must have been a disappointment. I began to move my arms over my body, trying to cover it up as much as I could.

He stood up and took my wrists in his hands, moving my arms from my body. “Never hide your body Estella,” he whispered, shaking his head. “It is what God had in mind when he created woman.” And with that he lifted me up into his arms and carried me into my bedroom.

I could hardly breathe as he carried me. The anticipation I felt was unfathomable and the wonderful mixture of fear, excitement and thrill swimming inside me was new and different. I didn’t know how he was doing it but this Don Juan was doing something to my body that no man had ever been able to do. I don’t think other men would have known where to start.

He lay me down on my bed and sat next to me, taking in the sight of my skin. His hands stroked the top of my thigh as he took his time. It was as if he were trying to memorize me. Or perhaps he was planning his strategy. What ever he was doing, it was thrilling me to no end.

“It is said that a woman has four erogenous areas on her body. Her mouth,” he brushed his fingers over my parted lips, “her breasts,” he ran his fingers between my breasts, “her behind and, most importantly, her sex.” His fingers rested on my lower abdomen as I willed them to move lower. “However, I believe that every inch of a woman’s skin can be erogenous, if it is touched in the right way.” He moved his body to the end of the bed and took my foot by the ankle. He began to slowly kiss his way up my leg, sending an electric current through me with every gentle nip and lick. He moved his way up to my knee, leaving a hot, wet trail. Every place his mouth touched seemed to be on fire. He continued to kiss further up, over my thigh and to my hip. I gripped the comforter of my bed as he brushed past the hungry spot between my legs and continued to kiss my belly. He moved his mouth between my breasts and up to my neck, finally landing at my mouth, filling it with his sensual tongue.

He kissed his way up my cheek and whispered in my ear, “Do you want me to make love to you Estella? You must answer me or I will not.” His breath was hot and damp.

“Yes.” It was barely audible, even to me. But it was all he needed to hear. He rose from the bed and I watched as he removed his clothing. With each article he shed from his body I became more and more excited. I had to stop myself from reaching up and tearing it all off myself. I knew who was in charge here and I wasn’t about to challenge him. Don Juan was making me more aroused than I had ever been in my life and I knew this was something to treasure.

When he finally removed the last piece of material, he climbed above me, wedging his leg between my knees to pry my legs open. Despite my excitement, I was still painfully nervous. He kissed me, sweetly and tenderly, as if sensing my trepidation. “Do not be afraid, Estella. It is I who must please you now. You have already pleased me immensely.” His words were loving and kind and I allowed my body to relax under his weight.

He slowly entered me, filling my insides with his manhood. I gasped and grabbed his shoulders and he slowly moved to the point of being buried inside. He waited there for a moment, allowing my body to adjust to his length, and then he began to move. Slowly at first, letting my whole body experience his movements. Soon he began to quicken his pace, moving faster and faster.

As I felt myself nearing the edge, he cupped his hands under my behind and turned my hips to a different angle. I was surprised until I felt his erection hitting something inside me I had never felt. I was aware of a sensitive spot inside me but this was different. This was something I couldn’t name or place but with every thrust of his hips I felt a lightning bolt go through me. It was so powerful and intense. I felt a white heat rush my body and I couldn’t hold it in. I gripped his back, digging my nails into his flesh as I screamed out involuntarily. I had no thought or reason in me. My orgasm was so violent that the spasms went on infinitely.

In the midst of the spasms, I waited for Don Juan to come inside me. Instead, he turned my hips again, into another strange position, now hitting another spot. I felt drunk as he continued to pound into me and I orgasmed again, with the same intensity of the one before it. I had no strength in my body. My arms sprawled to the sides of me as I let wave after wave of my orgasm course through me. I couldn’t move. I could barely speak. I simply let out my helpless cries.

In the aftermath of my second whirlwind of an orgasm, I felt Don Juan move faster at a pace that suited him. With a final thrust and a deep moan, he exploded inside me. It was at that moment I felt the hot tears streaming down the sides of my face and pooling into my ears. Somewhere in the middle of those intense orgasms I had begun to cry. I had no other choice. It was as if the orgasm wasn’t enough. My whole being was responding to Don Juan’s lovemaking.

He kissed my eyes and the sides of my face before pulling out of me. With no ability to move, he gathered me into his arms and I lay my head on his chest. I opened my mouth to speak. To say thank you. To say anything. Instead, no sound came out and Don Juan put his finger to my lips. “Shhh,” he said. “Sleep.” And I obeyed.

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I slept deeper that night than any other night in my life. My whole body was spent and it needed the rest. The next morning when I woke up the whole room felt different. It seemed brighter than it ever had. The air smelled cleaner. The sheets felt softer. It was strange as I noticed all my senses seemed heightened.

I looked over at the empty space beside me and noticed a single red rose on the pillow. It was perfect. Against the white sheets of my bed it seemed to symbolize everything that had happened the night before. I picked it up and inhaled the sweet aroma. I was ready to fall back into sleep when the phone rang. I was so tired, I decided to let the machine on my nightstand pick it up.

“Hey, Estella, it’s me. Listen, I’m sorry about last night. I was a jerk and it’ll never happen again. I just want you to know how awful I feel. I swear. It was the last time.” As I listened to the same speech I had heard Mike give a hundred times, I felt the actual change that had occurred within me. It was as if a light had been turned on inside me and I was finally able to see everything clearly. I felt stronger, more in control and happy. Truly happy.

I smiled and leaned over, pressing the mute button on the machine. I didn’t want to hear any more of Mike’s excuses. I was done with him and I knew it and it felt ok. I waited a few minutes and then erased the whole message without ever listening to it.

I held the beautiful rose to my cheek and felt the soft petals. It was a wonder that one passionate night with a stranger could have such an effect on me. But it had and I was grateful for it. Something in me knew that Don Juan knew that. And now I was able to go on and actually find someone who deserved me.