"If you lunge at your lead one more time, Luigi, I'll
strangle you!"
The standard poodle straining at the lead was a ridiculous
shade of peach. He was also huge, unruly, and at the moment
making me furious. Taking "Luigi the Uncontrollable,"
as I'd dubbed the beast, for his late evening walks was part
of the deal I'd struck with friends -- housesitting in exchange
for two weeks in Marc and Gina's Paris pied-‡-terre,
while they spent two weeks in Gina's home town, a small village
in Italy.
Luigi's lead was not strong enough to withstand all his headstrong
pulling, I thought. Sure enough, as he took yet another detour
toward a shrub, nearly yanking my left arm out of its socket,
the thin leather lead snapped. Luigi dashed off, weaving around
and sniffing the ground at first, then heading down the hill.
"Luigi, dammit, come back!" I ran after him, the
broken lead trailing behind. An angry shout was not doing
any good. Luigi darted off to the right and disappeared down
what looked like a ravine, as well as I could see in the fading
light as the sun dipped below the horizon. Marc and Gina would
never forgive me if they lost their oh-so-pampered pooch.
I rolled my eyes and followed, and in a loud but calmer tone
called out, "Luigi, sweetie, come here, boy!"
There was a dark gap in the rock wall, and the sound of snuffling
then a sharp bark from the darkness within. Luigi's bark,
and an echo. Oh no. Not that. From the size of the opening,
it looked like a small cave, but the echo suggested that this
was indeed one of the entries to the legendary Paris Catacombs.
I sighed, stuffed the broken lead into a deep jacket pocket,
then pulled out a small, powerful flashlight. Since my college
hosteling days, I never went out without a flashlight, extra
local currency, and a good utility knife. I cut a strong,
thin branch off a tree near the catacombs' opening, thinking
that a stick could come in useful as well, and moved inside.
I walked further into the darkness, called out again, "Luigi?"
and heard nothing but my own voice echoing. As my eyes became
accustomed to the dark, the thin, strong beam of the flashlight
illuminated archways of stone, some gleaming with wetness,
others covered in...things that shouldnít be examined
closely. Light was still visible behind me, and archways and
corridors stretched ahead. As I directed the flashlight's
beam into the darkness, it was clear that there were many
ways a person (or a damned stupid peach colored poodle) could
get lost in this place. Moving forward, I scraped the stick
on the floor and made a faint trail in the damp muck and moss,
a trail that could hopefully be followed back to the opening
once the disobedient pooch was retrieved.
"Luigi?" I called, hearing what sounded like a bark,
distant, but coming from...the left corridor? The echoes were
making it difficult to tell the direction of the sound. "Loo-ee-gee?"
I called again...and stood still...listening. There was another
bark, even more faint. I moved a bit further along the left
corridor, and glanced to the rear, looking for the faint light
of the ravine opening...yes, there it was.
I turned and headed straight down the corridor, which opened
ahead into a round room that resembled the hub of a wheel.
ìGreat...which direction to take now?î I thought,
and called out to the dog again. After a few seconds, there
was another echoing bark, more excited this time...but from
which doorway? Straight ahead...Yes. The bark definitely came
from the corridor right in front of me. Going further, I heard
another sound, this time a yelp. Luigi's frustrated yelp.
What in the hell had the dog got himself into? Concerned,
I moved more quickly, and the corridor curved away to the
right. Looking back, the light of the entrance was no longer
visible, but the stick was still making marks on the floor.
I headed further in the direction of Luigi's yipping, then
stopped dead, heart beating as though it would burst, as my
hair stood on end -- there was a dark form in the corridor
ahead. I gathered my wits, gulped and said "Hello?"
The flashlight, the beam still burning, fell to the floor.
I groped on the floor for it and did not take my eyes from
the black form. A red glow -- Ah, it was a cigarette in someone's
hand. The hand moved up and the glow increased, as the person
in front of me took a drag from it.
The figure didn't move, except to lower the cigarette. I resisted
the urge to make a mad dash for the catacombs' entry, thinking
of Luigi the poodle and the yelp Iíd heard from him.
I plucked up my courage, and in poor French squeaked out,
"Hello!? Who's there? ...Why are you standing down here,
in the dark? ...Have you seen a dog...a big poodle... down
here?" I shone the flashlight over the form, from the
floor of the catacombs up...over the shine of polished boot
leather, black...up to the hem, then the front of a long black
old-fashioned-looking coat, buttons in gold gleaming in the
flashlight's beam. Up to the collar of the coat, where a froth
of silk gathered at the opening...up further, to a face...and
oh, what a face!
The man was the most gorgeous human I'd ever seen.
He smiled, and said in English "I am here to fulfill
your greatest desire."
"Oh, you are, eh?" I said, trying to sound as brave
as I wanted to be, face to face with an otherworldly stranger,
in a subterranean maze. "Where's my dog?"
The man spoke English. He had a trace of an accent, one I
could not place. Not French...Eastern European, maybe? But
which country?
"The dog..." I repeated..."where is my DOG?"
"Your friends' dog, you mean. Oh, he's fine. He's sleeping
right now." He waved the hand holding the cigarette in
a casual gesture, indicating a dark alcove behind him.
The stranger frightened me, though I would not let him know
this. His arrogant manner both thrilled and angered me. "What
the hell have you done with the dog?...Let me see him,"
I said, fists clenched around the flashlight and the stick.
"All in good time. First, your desire...Tell me...tell
me your greatest desire, and I will fulfill it."
Embarrassed by his flowery choice of words, I said "Gee...I
guess somebody read one too many Anne Rice novels. What the
devil do you mean, you'll fulfill my greatest desire?"
I was not certain whether the beautiful man was just a freak,
completely nuts, or what. Anything was possible. The thought
occurred to me that he could be a rapist or a murderer, down
here in the dark, alone. But surely serial killers did not
look, dress or act like this fellow -- did they? He was getting
to me. I could feel my tough act softening. The situation
was outrageous, the setting improbable, and this man...looking
like an angel...this just had to be some sort of hallucination.
Maybe there was some sort of "catacomb gas" that
was messing with my head...
He spoke again, derailing my runaway train of thoughts. "You're
not dreaming,î he said, ìI exist. You can smell
the smoke from my cigarette...here, touch my coat...see! It's
real. I'm real." He paused. "Tell me your greatest
desire, Joanna."
He...knew...my name?
I called his bluff. Squaring my stance, I said, "My name's
not Joanna...what is it, smart boy?"
"Oh, my dear, your name is indeed Joanna. I know this.
I know many things."
"Fine. You're right, my name IS Joanna. So what. You
guessed. You read the body language or...something."
I hoped he had NOT read my body language, because at the moment
it was giving off heat of a different kind...sexual heat.
This impossible, beautiful, crazy creature had affected me...kindled
an incredible desire for him. I had to be careful. How did
he know so much? Something about him grabbed me deep inside,
and now I felt the sexual desire he had stirred, spreading
through my body. Dammit! I would NOT let him get to me in
this way. Why was my body betraying me?
I hoped my eyes shot sparks at him as I spoke. "If you're
so damned smart, why don't you tell ME what my greatest desire
is, then?"
"That is not allowed,î he said, his voice soft,
his dark eyes revealing that he knew the power he had over
me. ìYou must tell me. I DO know your greatest desire,
and that is why I am here. But you must be the one to reveal
it. Then, and only then, can I fulfill it for you." He
stroked my neck with his hand, his long fingers and impeccably
groomed nails raising a flock of goose bumps that continued
their flight down my body. I did not flinch or retreat. He
dropped the cigarette onto the mossy floor, and crushed it
beneath his boot. "I'm waiting."
I was still not convinced. Moved, hot with desire, thinking
more about the man before me than that silly peach colored
dog I'd come to retrieve, but still not convinced. "Right,"
I said. "I'm supposed to believe that you are in this
cave, just waiting here in the dark, for little old me to
wander in, so that you can 'fulfill my desire?' Rubbish! What's
your real story, eh? And...also...what's your name?"
He shrugged his elegant, broad shoulders. "My name is
Leonardo. And this place is the catacombs, Joanna, not a cave."
He looked a bit hurt as he asked "Why should you believe
me? I don't blame you. Maybe you're defensive because you're
not sure, yourself, what you REALLY desire." He laughed,
softly, and caressed my hair, looking straight into my eyes.
Dammit, he was right. The desire existed, but I wasn't sure
what it was. Perhaps it was overshadowed by the strong sexual
chemistry that we both felt at the moment.
I shuffled a bit...not sure how much longer I could stand
up to him, resist the pheromones that were obviously pouring
off his amazing body. He saw the softening, understood my
problem, and said "I'll help you. Relax, Joanna...and
I'll give you a little hint."
That did it. My defenses dropped, and so did my pants.
He made love to me, right there in the cave...uh...the catacombs.
He pulled candles from his pockets, lighted them and set them
around the dark stone corridor. In their flickering light,
I could see in the alcove behind him the form of Luigi, snoozing
peacefully, his silly peach-colored face doggy-angelic in
the light.
Laying his coat over the mossy floor, the gorgeous man stood
before me in his gothic wet-dream clothing, unfastened his
shirt and tossed it to one side then gently undressed me,
took me in his arms and kissed my hair, my face, my neck,
my shoulders, my breasts.
At first, I was like a doll in his arms, not responding, still
stubborn, or at least trying to remain stubborn. He ran his
long, sensitive fingers over my skin, and they felt like butterfly
wings, his touch was so light. Shivering, I responded, covering
the lovely smooth skin of his face with kisses, then raking
his back with my fingernails and kissing his mouth with hunger
and desire. His mouth tasted not of nicotine to me, but of
nectar, as our tongues entwined. Heat rippled through me in
a wave, and he held me up as my knees started to give, then
went to his knees before me and caressed the line between
my breasts to my stomach with his lips. I collapsed onto him
then, the intensity of my wanting too much for me. He held
me up, held my face and gazed into my eyes.
Holding me gently with one hand, he then folded my jacket
and placed it on his coat as a pillow. He slowly lowered me
down onto the silk lining of his coat. He knelt over me and
I gasped at his body, which was beautiful, the skin swimmer-smooth,
his muscles rippling in the candlelight. I was hot, wet with
desire, and I pulled him down, grabbed at his trousers desperately,
unfastening them and sliding them down even as he pulled off
his boots and pushed the clothing aside.
His ìnether regionsî were as muscular, smooth
and impressive as his upper bits. He smiled and his eyelids
drooped in pleasure as I stroked his penis with one hand and
grabbed his muscular ass with the other. He laughed when,
impatient, I pulled him down and tried to mount him. ìWait...î
he said, and put his hands on my breasts, circling the aureoles
with rose petal-soft touches with his fingers, following with
his tongue and teeth, nipping softly and tantalizing my breasts,
nipples hardening as he then blew cool air on the wet, stimulated
skin. He held my hands at my side and licked up one side of
my body and down the other, making me laugh, then moved down
my body and with his dark eyes watching my face for signs
of pleasure, teased my now tingling clitoris with his tongue,
eyes sparkling as I writhed and moaned at his touch. He let
my hands go now, and I ran my fingers through his thick curly
hair, and kneaded the muscles of his shoulders as he worked
me into a frenzy. As my hips moved in my ecstasy he lapped
at me ever so gently, with his tongue, just the right light
touch, blowing more cool air on me and causing ripples of
pleasure to roll over me. He then found the right spot inside
me with his long fingers and he massaged me with great skill,
watching my eyes, holding my back with one hand as I bucked
my hips, writhed, and finally came. I collapsed to the silky
surface and caught my breath for a moment.
As I lay there, I felt a cold, wet muzzle at my back, as Luigi
awoke from his sleep and nudged me. ìI think Luigiís
jealous,î I said, and laughed. The poodle sighed and
curled up again, ears twitching slightly. ìThatís
a good boy, sleep a little more.î
I turned back to Leonardo, who wore only a wry grin. ìI
think Iím beginning to like these catacombs,î
I said.
I grabbed him and pulled him down beside me, rolled him onto
his back and mounted him, slowly at first, embraced his penis
with my hands then, finding it hard and pulsating, lowered
myself onto him and gasping as he filled me. He never stopped
looking into my eyes, his eyes and mine locked, as we rolled
together in the corridor, laughing, kissing and making love
for what seemed hours. We did things I'd only dreamed about,
and he seemed to know every nuance of lovemaking that kept
the fires of passion burning strong. We came together, over
and over...there was no stopping for this man, this angel
of a man. Did he truly know my greatest desire?
Finally, I was exhausted. Exhilarated, nearly dehydrated,
and totally satisfied. I lay beside Leonardo and realized
that this man was the perfect lover for me...but was that
my greatest desire? To find the perfect lover?
No, it wasn't. But the answer to his question came to me as
we lay there, snuggled together like spoons in a drawer and
sighing... I talked to him about my life, where I'd been,
where I was going, and he was attentive. Responsive.
I realized that he was right, he DID know my greatest desire.
Because he was, after hours of lovemaking, lying beside me...
...awake!
***
Bio:I am a writer (with articles published in Synful Pleasures
magazine and Pineapple Path's electronic mag, "Ambrosia"),
a professional maker of masks, and a graphic designer, living
in Oklahoma, buckle of the Bible
Belt, or so it seems.
