For Lorenzo, to witness his ex-wife lying and producing fake evidences against Elena with the help of other women from church had been a severe blow, given Veitena’s sanctity project as her only goal in life along with being rich. He was an honest man who during most part of his life was continuously put in a lower moral position while married. Except for Father Joseph and some other women of the church, married or not, who felt attracted to Lorenzo and hated Veitena’s excessive presence in the church when she could be on a bed at home with such a man, many people who took part in that parish praised the commitment of Veitena Marces, nearly to the point of making him feel inferior to her. One could mistakenly appreciate a married woman seeking moral purity by means of a chaste life. The fact was that Lorenzo longed only to live a good and honest life in the eyes of God as a man who was wonderfully human as created by God, a man who felt desire and had wanted sex with his wife before. If the Catholic Church had a sacrament called marriage, how then could I, Lorenzo Marces be less worthy than Veitena Marces for feeling desire?! In fact, she was the one corrupting what the marriage should be in the eyes of God!
Lorenzo had tried, in vain, to convince her to seek help to understand her almost total refusal of sex before, but she had reacted violently, shouting how sinful that was. At that time, much before knowing Elena, Lorenzo had discovered all Veitena was able to do to achieve her greedy financial or religious targets in life, concluding that there was no more reason to celebrate anything sexually with that woman, mainly after he underwent vasectomy under her insistent request, despite forbidden by the Catholic Church, only to end up having to use condom anyway, in the rare times he had sex with her afterwards.
Two weeks after the first encounter with Úrsula, Lorenzo and Elena had secretly resumed their relationship, spending all nights together, making use of carefully designed safety measures to bypass monitoring. During nights of the week, they would endure different motel rooms, depending on availability, less or more bothered by noises of Jacuzzi pumps or noisier couples in neighboring suites. On weekends, when usually there was a huge queue for motel rooms with waiting times as long as two hours, they took the greater risk by which Elena would park her car eight blocks left and afterwards, right from Lorenzo’s place around eleven p.m. walking to Lorenzo’s in tracksuit with hair tied up by hairpins. From the distance, one could see a tall man walking. And so was done on that Friday.
Half an hour before Úrsula’s arrival, Veitena was in her car, parked in the avenue at a point three blocks from Lorenzo’s building, from which she could look straight to the main entrance and also to the living room of his apartment. Clever as he is, I have to observe him at different times… In the early signs of spring, nights were still chilly, but she had to sacrifice in the name of the good blessed life she wanted for her husband, even if he insisted in a stupid divorce. After all, not everybody can resist against Evil as I can. I have to be a safe harbor and an example to him during this difficult phase of life in which he is completely lost and far from the paths of God!
On that second Friday after starting to be Úrsula, Elena walked against the chilly wind, with hands in the pockets of the sweatpants and the jacket zipped up to the top, protecting the neck from the cold, to cover the eight blocks from the very quiet street where her car was parked, avoiding the avenue by all means to reduce the chance to have its plate recognized. Precisely at eleven p.m., Elena pressed Lorenzo’s apartment doorbell at the main entrance of the building, happy with the lingerie chosen for the night, worn under the tracksuit. It was a sensual light rosy body made of a delicate lace; Elena’s beautiful firm breasts were entirely exposed, only contoured by laced ribbons. She could hardly wait to have them in Lorenzo’s delicious warm mouth and hands. Her breasts had a huge share in the extent of pleasure she felt with Lorenzo who, in turn, knew how to make them lead her to madness because he needed those breasts in his hands, in his mouth, for his tongue, for his gentle bites, for his sucking. He could drink life from those breasts of her.
Precisely at half past eleven p.m., Veitena Marces turns the engine on to drive home after one more monitoring event. On a windy night like that, no suspicious events had occurred and the whole hour in the car had been almost boring. The only activity that called her attention was the arrival of a visitor at eleven p.m. visiting someone in that building. That was odd… Not a regular or polite time for visits… He was no resident person; otherwise, he would have used a key, instead of doorbell. Thus, after that person was granted access to the building, Veitena put the second check in practice, exactly for cases of doubt, such as a visitor at that hour. It is a man, but, I am so bored… Veitena immediately began to observe the wide window of Lorenzo’s living room through the translucent part of the curtains that enabled her to see the dim light of one single light spot. Lorenzo is possibly asleep on the couch or in front of the TV… Used to her standard monitoring procedure, Veitena observed that living room for twenty minutes. Field of vision: absolutely unchanged for all the time... Lorenzo did not walk; the blackout part of the curtain was kept retracted. No single sign of movement has been detected. Considering it is a Friday, that visitor was for some of the other residents of the building...
When Elena opened the already unlocked door of Lorenzo’s comfortable and warm apartment after entering the building on that Friday, he was on the couch and smiled when he saw her.
“I crawled to the intercom to let you in and, then, back to the couch!” Lorenzo had diamonds in those eyes, while he laughed recalling the scene of a fifty-nine year old man crawling.
As agreed before, in their ultra-safe safety procedures, as soon as she closed the door behind her, she would bend down to crawl too, a fifty year old woman mimicking a toddler. Before bending down, she stripped from the tracksuit and loosened her hair. No change was made in the lighting. However, the dim light allowed Lorenzo to immediately arouse by seeing her on that openly kinky lingerie that exhibited her full breasts. His mouth watered. He controlled himself in order not to stand up, because the blackout would not be pulled to cover the window. They remembered bitterly well the night of the second separation when the blackout that covered the window had alerted Veitena, who monitored Lorenzo’s place, on Elena in his apartment. The only light spot was on a side table that would project any shade on the wall not visible from the avenue.
Lorenzo had a cotton T-shirt and nothing else. Elena looked at his penis growing harder and harder.
Only after she was ready for his eyes, Elena crawled towards the couch, slowly:
“I’m crawling directly to what I wanna drink from…”
“Are you? You may have anything you want…”
She reached him on the couch and her mouth was put, gently, straight where brilliant drops started appearing. Lorenzo caressed her hair. She welcomed his penis all inside her mouth for some seconds before he said:
“If you are so thirsty, my love, wait for me to slide down onto the rug; it’ll be safer…”
They kissed, drank from each other on the immense and silky rug in the living room. The way she presented her breasts to him that night made him urgently needing them. He grabbed one, while savoring the other in his mouth, licking that nipple until making it express outside for him.
“I’ll make the same with the other too, I want no jealousy…”
Elena was gasping nearly out of control. He penetrated her, sucking each one of those breasts. He stroked her stronger, she moaned stronger, in escalating degrees, for minutes long. Lorenzo’s penis was being tightly held by her inner muscles. It usually triggered strong orgasms in both of them.
Seconds before half past eleven, both had come intensely on the rug of the living room, before gathering forces to crawl to one of the bedrooms.