Love for the Luchador (A Modern Romance) (2 page)

He would
hold her and kiss her as she urged him on, strong hands slipping off her
clothes with lust tempered by care. His mighty rod would press against her,
rock hard and desirous as it strained against his linen pants.

She
dipped two fingers into the slickness between her folds and rubbed them over
her clit. Her breath deepened as she rubbed in hard, fast circles before
dipping her fingers back down into her womanhood.

He would
not turn her down, would not say no to her. His need for her would be as great
as her need for him. He would not fight as she pulled off his pants to reveal
his throbbing, swollen member. He would rub it against her steaming groin,
ensuring she was ready as she wrapped her arms around him and nibbled his neck.

Her body
temperature ran hot as her fingers teased between her flushed labia, trying to
imagine what he would feel like. Biting her lip and holding her breath, she
imagined opening to him, enveloping his hot, swollen head as he slowly slid his
eager cock into her. Her breath escaped in a moan as she began to work her
slickened fingers into her body while she rubbed her clit with her other hand.

The
feeling in her pussy was growing heavy, the muscles between her legs clenching
against her wet fingers. He would know her body, know how to touch her, how to
kiss her as he plunged into her silken depths again and again.

She felt
her body shiver and knew she was getting close. In her fantasy, she looked
deeply into his eyes and saw them filled with love and desire. She would clench
around him and dig her nails into his toned muscles, eagerly pulling him into
her. Her fingers rubbed her clit in a frenzy as her other hand curled fingers
into her. Her breath caught as with a final flick she felt her body fall into
the abyss of orgasm. A throaty moan escaped her as she spasmed again and again,
imagining him coming with her, arms holding her shaking body in the throes of
ecstasy.

She lay
there tired but satisfied, catching her breath, and soon drifted into sleep.

––––––––

"You look
tired, Mary," Sofia said, gesturing with her fork. "If you don't wake up soon,
your
huevos rancheros
will get cold."

"Huh? Oh,
I'm sorry." María replied, covering her mouth as she yawned and looked around
the small cafe.

"Were you
up all night again with your 'research'? Look, we talked about this. You are
acting a little stalkerish," she said with a trace of annoyance.

"He is
just difficult to find, Sofi, it takes real effort to find such a man," she
replied, poking at her eggs.

"If what
you say is true, maybe he doesn't want to be found," Sofia stated flatly.
"Besides, what type of ugly man must he be to always hide his face?"

"What,
would you rather I just date one of the man-children in this city? Like your
boyfriend?"

"Hey,
Fernando has nice hair, a nice car, and bought me these earrings. What more
could I want?"

"You told
me Fernando once squealed and ran from your kitchen, leaving you to deal with
an oh-so-scary
cucaracha
."

Sofia
burst into laughter. "Just remember to never let him know I shared that with
you. Look, you want an honest, brave man, fine. But honest and brave men in
this country end up poor or dead, just think about that. Is that what you
want?"

María
didn't have a good response. She knew her friend was right, those qualities
tended to get a person pushed down or killed in this country. Successful men
tended to be more careful, lining brave men up in front of them like a shield.

María
sighed. "I don't know."

"Look,
Fernando's friend Pablo would love to have a hottie like you. Why don't I hook
you two up?"

"Pablo!?
He's horrible! Don't try to pawn Fernando's friends off on me, I don't need a
dating service."

"What you
need is to get a man,
any
man. We aren't getting any younger, Mary. Half
of our friends are married now, and you don't want to be single forever. Life
moves quickly, don't let it pass you by."

María
considered this for a moment before looking at her watch. "Speaking of moving
quickly, I have to get going. I promised my editor that I would have a few
stories done before press time, so I need to go live the exciting life of a
community reporter and run down children and housewives to interview about
local events."

"More
feel-good stories?"

"Hey,
it's not as illustrious as the crime and politics reporters, but it's a job."

––––––––

Later
that week she again found herself at her computer on another sleepless night.
She had installed a newly released program, and it was showing a zoomed in
aerial map of the city with color coded pins dotting the landscape. She
shuffled through papers, checked her bookmarks, and dropped more pins. Slowly,
a pattern began to emerge. Nothing to be sure about, but one area had a
slightly higher concentration of pins, a small
barrio
near Los Volcanes.

She knew
she couldn't just go and wait for him on a street corner. She also couldn't go
door to door asking if anyone has seen a luchador. Even with her reporter
credentials she wouldn't be able to get away with that. People would think she
was crazy. She had to come up with something though, some way to find him.

Who
knows everyone in a barrio?

––––––––

"In
nomine Patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti."

"Bless me
Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession. Since
my last confession, I have lusted after a man I do not even know and done
impure things to my body. You must help me."

"God
helps and forgives all my child," the priest said in a soothing voice, "Are
there any other sins you wish to confess?"

"No
father,
you
must help me. This man saved me once, and you must help me
meet him so I may thank him."

"How
would I help you find a man you do not know? Pray to God, and he will surely
guide you on the path he has planned for you."

"I have
prayed father! I have prayed and I have worked hard and God has guided me
here!"

"
Señorita
,
I cannot..."

"He is a
luchador, padre!
The
Luchador!" she exclaimed. "Father, I know you
cannot tell me who he is, but you must help me. Please, I beg you. Tell him I
want to meet him. To thank him. He is the bravest, most selfless man I have
ever met and I must show my gratitude."

The
silence within the confessional seemed to last an eternity. Tears of
frustration spilled down María's face. With a shameful shock she realized that
she was confessing her lustful sins in one breath then demanding the priest
help her find the object of her lust in the next. She covered her face in
desperation and embarrassment.

"I will
pray for you child... and your message will be passed. Say two rosaries for your penance."

"Thank
you, Father! Bless you." She sat upright, wiped the tears from her face and
clasped her hands together. "My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart.
In choosing to do wrong and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom
I should love above all things. I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance,
to sin no more, and to avoid whatever leads me to sin. Our Savior
Jesus
Christo
suffered and died for us. In his name, my God, have mercy. Amen."

The
priest spoke again. "God, the Father of mercies, through the death and
resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy
Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the
Church, may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in
the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Go in peace."

As she
stood to leave, he added, "If it is in God's plan, I will see you at this time
next week."

She left
the confessional and made her way to the front row of pews. Kneeling, she
prayed as the bare wood dug into her knees, but it was a small pain compared to
the suffering of the savior whose visage was nailed and bleeding on the cross
before her. She rolled her black rosary beads through her hands, her nerves settling
through repetition of her well practiced prayers.

Finished
with her penance, she left after one last benediction. "
Jesus Christo
, I
know I am not worthy but please. I love him."

––––––––

She slept
like a baby every night that week. For the first time in months, she did not
worry. She had put her faith in God to see her through this and knew that if
nothing came of it, God was telling her to move on.

She knew
she would always think of him, no matter what happened when she next went to
that church. But if the priest told her to forget the luchador, if she married
another and had a family, he would still always remain in in her heart. The
mysterious savior. An angel among men.

––––––––

She
entered the confessional exactly one week later, to the minute, wearing her
best summer dress and understated makeup. She wondered what would happen if the
priest had arranged a meeting. Would she burst out of the booth and run
frantically down the aisle? Would she freeze? Would she come to the moment of
truth and refuse it, afraid to ruin the perfection of the mystery?

"In
nomine Patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti."

"Father,
I came back, just as you asked when we spoke last week."

"Yes, I
remember you my child. Are there any sins you wish to confess?"

"Father,
have you talked to the luchador?"

"First,
are there any sins you wish to confess?" The priest asked.

"No,
Father. This has probably been the most virtuous week of my life. I have prayed
every day, have controlled my thoughts and my tongue, and have begged God for
mercy on my soul and an answer to my prayers. My only sin is that of wanting
fulfillment when I know I am not worthy."

"Thank
you, my child. Never forget the purpose of this place. Now, if you have no
other sins you may go in peace to the church garden and meet him."

"Father,
thank you! Thank you!"

She
quietly stood up and calmly walked to the front of the church. Standing before
the grand figure nailed to the cross, she kissed His feet and whispered, "Thank
You." Then she turned and all but ran out to the church garden.

He stood
there, a large muscled figure beneath a tree with a small rose held delicately
in his hand. He was wearing the same linen suit and the same red and green mask
as he had on Christmas Eve. The same soft, peaceful brown eyes gleamed, even in
the light of day. "Hello María," he started, "I know my mask is not appropriate
for this season but I thought it would be best to wear what I did when we first
met."

"You
remembered my name?" she said in surprise.

He handed
her the perfect single rose. "María, I have saved many men and women in a few
short years, but you stood out. I remembered you and to my surprise, saw your
name in the papers every week. I am a huge fan of your reports, they bring a
little light and hope into this city. I like to think I have gotten to know you
through them. Besides, you are the only person in this city with the drive to
hunt a man such as me. No policeman or crime reporter has ever gotten as far as
you have."

"Luchador,
I have dreamed about you since that night."

"I have
dreamed of you as well, María."

"You
know, you don't need to save my life to walk me home again," she said coyly as
she stepped closer to him, lifting her face toward his.

The
luchador held her gaze but held her fast with one hand on her shoulder, her face
inches from his own. "I apologize for being old fashioned, but I could never be
with
a woman without first being married," he said softly.

Up until
this point she had always tried to live her life logically, taking her time,
ensuring she knew what she was doing, but something about this man led her once
again to do something she wouldn't normally do. "Then let us marry! We have a
church and a priest, what else do we need?"

"
Señorita
,
you don't even know who I am, what I look like."

She had
not come all this way to let him slip through her fingers. She told him, "I
do
know you! You are the man who saved me. You are the man who once ran into a
burning building to save strangers, the man who has stopped more thugs and
rapists than any single policeman! You are the man who has thrown himself into
danger time and time again to help others. You are the man who defeated the
rudo
Santiago in the second round, and persevered after suffering through the
luchador Diablo's Grande Mask Slam. I know you, Luchador, and you are the
bravest and most selfless man I have ever known."

"You do
not even know my face."

"I don't
care. I don't love your face. I love
you
."

He paused
for a long moment and finally took her hands in his. "I too, am in love with
you, María. You are the last person I think of every night and the first person
I think of every morning. Are you sure about this?"

She
nodded emphatically. "I am more sure than I have ever been before."

"Then I
have something for you." His hands went to his neck, unclasping a thin gold
necklace and lifting it out of his shirt to reveal a bright set of gold rings
dangling from the end, diamonds flashing in the sunlight. "María, these
belonged to my mother. I have carried them always since she passed away."

He
dropped to one knee on the grass of the church yard, looking up at her. "If you
will accept me as I am, it would honor me, María Peña, if you would be my wife.
Will you marry me?"