Put to the Test

Once again, offered to you with appreciation to LadyCibelle for editing this piece. Any mistakes in the Portuguese translations are purely mine. Sorry about that.

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We are all tested and offered choices in our lives. Do we turn left or right? Do I file my taxes now or wait until the 15th of April? If we are lucky, we make the right choice and pass the test. Often, we won't know until long after the choice has been made and the results tabulated whether we were right or wrong. But, sometimes, we know the minute we make that little tick whether we passed the test or not. That happened to me the week of my first anniversary.

Most of you have already been introduced to my past and how a lovely, raven haired Brazilian undulated into my life. And my life has never been better since that night in Sao Paulo. She grabbed a hold of my heart that night and has never relaxed her grip.

Thanks to Maria my life began to settle into a warm rhythm. Prior to meeting Maria I had been directionless since my marriage had broken up 10 years ago. I didn't even have the luxury of throwing myself into my work as many men do. A consultant's life is a series of assignments punctuated by periods of inactivity. I had gone from assignment to assignment with no real permanence. One day seamlessly blended into the next. And then Maria changed that. She made me...respectable. I took a permanent position as an information technology project manager with a large pharmaceutical firm in the area, rented a lovely little house in a cul-de-sac and began to live like a human being.

Maria did not want to return to work and I had no desire to push her in that direction. My salary was enough to make us comfortable. Occasionally she did take translating job working from home on a laptop she seemed to be happy just making the house "cozy" as she put it and being my wife.

The only cloud on our horizon was that she had taken to the idea of having a child. She had informed me of this the previous night after we were in bed. I tried to dissuade her but, as is the case with many women, she wasn't listening. I had no say in the matter. Intellectually I could see her point of view. She was still young. She had never had the experience and I am sure that her "biological clock" was ticking with the foreboding insistency of a bomb. But I was no longer a young man. In fact, I was so far over the hill I could no longer see the hump. I would be ready to collect social Security when the child was just getting out of college! She was not to be dissuaded and this bothered me.

I remember fluctuating between this and just what to get Maria for our anniversary when bad news arrived at my office door in the form of my executive assistant, Pamela. Pam had been with the company for the last 5 year and was an exemplary employee. During those 5 years she had worked for a VP, a senior director and my predecessor. She had a fine sense of office politics and was a major conduit for the powder puff grapevine, a nasty appellation given to the ladies room gossip mongers. She was loyal enough to pass things of interest on to me from time to time, things which might affect my little section.

She poked her head in and asked "Busy?"

I took my feet from my desktop where they had taken up permanent residency. I started shuffling things as if I had actually been doing something other than trying to decide between perfume and flowers for the anniversary gift. "Nope, not really. What have you got?"

Pam walked in and stood there with a big grin. "You are not going to believe this! Guess who is back."

I had no idea what the hell she was talking about. "I have no idea what the hell you are talking about. If you have something to tell me, tell me."

"Mike Turner. He's back." She grinned.

I groaned and said, "Are you shitting me? Who is responsible for that fuck up?"

Pam grinned. "Blame it on Walters in HR. They didn't really check into his, Turner's, packet when he reapplied. Plus, Turner is friends with some senior director somewhere. He is a good systems engineer, Pete."

I grimaced. "You know I hate being called Pete. Don't do it again or I'm canning your ass."

Her laugh had a deep throaty quality to that I enjoyed. "Whatever you say." As if Pam getting sacked could ever happen. Pam knew not just where the bodies were buried but who put them there. "You ready for the best part?" She said, eyes twinkling.

I sat back and groaned. "There's more? Don't tell me, let me guess. He's being assigned to me?"

"Aren't you just special?" Pam grinned. "He should be on his way..."

"Hey folks!" Turner, on cue, stepped into my office.

I stood up and reached my hand across the desk to shake hands. "Good to have you back, Mike." I lied looking over at Pam who had a shit-eating grin plastered over her features.

Mike took my hand and shook it. "Great to be back! You can't keep a good man down, you know."

"So it would appear," I agreed, retrieving my hand.

I looked at my hand. One...two...three...four...five...wedding ring...watch. Yes, they were all there.

Pam moved to the door, "Well, I have things to do. Mike, stop by and I'll show you your cube and get you set up with a laptop and everything. Okay?"

"Sure thing. I'll be there in a minute. I just want to touch base with Peter here."

She walked out and Mike turned to me. He hadn't changed much in the intervening year. Perhaps a bit more grey in hair, but then I couldn't say much about that.

"Look, Peter, I want this to work out between us. About Brazil, I want to apologize for that. I was drinking too much and made an ass of myself. I want you to know I am sorry and that it won't happen again."

I looked him over. "No, problem, Mike. That was a year ago. Just two things to remember. I know you have a drinking problem and in the past it got the better of you. But you always kept it away from your work. Continue to do that and we'll get along."

"Done!" he replied. "And the second?"

"I'm willing to give you a shot, Mike, for two reasons. One, you are a good engineer, one of the best. Two, being honest about it, you seem to have a guardian angel upstairs and I don't need any hassles. I have a good thing here and I don't need it messed up. Understand?"

"No problem, Peter. You were always fair with me. I won't let you down. I think I have beaten this thing." He stood up and extended his hand again. "Ah, Peter. The word around is that you married that woman from Brazil. Is that true? Because I would like the opportunity to apologize to her if I could."

I didn't want to bring up Maria into this. It would be better had he not to even mentioned that night. " There is no need for that, Mike. Just don't cause me any problems and I won't cause you any, I guess." I replied.

He smiled and said, "Sure thing. I understand."

He walked out the door towards Pamela's office. I wasn't happy about things but knew that no good was going to come of his return. It wasn't that I was afraid for Maria. I was afraid for Mike and what Maria might do to him if they met again. And I was concerned for my cushy job, as well.

The next couple of days went by pretty well. Maria and I were great together, as always. We spent time thinking how to spend our anniversary. She wanted to go out to a local Brazilian restaurant for dinner and dancing. The dancing I could handle but her idea of cuisine made my acid reflux turn cartwheels. I was hoping for a little trip to a bed and breakfast about a days drive up I-95. We had spent some time there previously and it was quiet. I could have her all to myself.

I may have seemed a little distracted to her; my mind racked trying to think what to get her. I nearly gave the game away one night when she came in and caught me looking through her collection of French perfumes. Ever the pragmatist, she just looked at me, wrinkled her nose and informed me. "None of those would smell very good on you, caro." I had to agree with her.

The next day my car was out getting a servicing so I had to borrow Maria's little Cooper. It was kind of cute and fun to drive occasionally but I still preferred mid –sized Chevy.

I had lunch with Mike and Stan Earle, another system guy. We had finished discussing the configuration for a new server and what resources they would need when Mike pulled me aside.

"Look, Peter, I really need a favor from you, okay. I wouldn't ask but this is important." As I had mentioned, Mike was a good man work wise and he did seem to be cleaning up his act. "If I can, sure. What is it?"

"I really need to borrow your car for about an hour. I have to get a prescription filled and run an errand. I promise to have it back in pristine shape."

I wasn't happy about lending out the Cooper. To my mind it wasn't my car, it was Maria's. "Well, Mike, normally I would but I had to drive Maria's car today."

A strange look came over him and he grinned." Please. If I was going to be careful with yours I will take extra special care with hers. Please. I will return it with a full tank and clean as a whistle inside and out. What d'ya say. Please..."

I hated to see a grown man beg. "Okay, but if you put one scratch on it you can give your soul to the Lord because your ass is mine."

"No problem. You have my word." He replied. Why is it that people always say you have their word just before they are going to fuck you?

I tossed him the keys. "Here. It's the red Mini-Cooper in the 3rd row, south-east lot. Be careful!"

The rest of the afternoon was spent with me on pins and needles. I was certain that a call informing me the Cooper had been totaled was imminent. I tried to keep busy but my mind rewound to that silly moment when I had given permission to a total idiot that he could drive my wife's car. An hour passed, then two. Pamela came in with some papers for an upcoming budget meeting to sign. I signed without even reading them and handed them back while glancing at the little clock on my desk and then compared the times.

"Peter, are you okay?" she asked with more than a note of concern.

"Pam, do I have the word stupid tattooed on my forehead?"

She frowned and didn't bother to answer. She just left. It was a rhetorical question anyhow. Finally, at about 3:45 pm he returned and tossed me the keys. Mike thanked me and told me he had gassed it up and had the carwash wash and detail it. When I left that night, I checked the body work out and found no damage. I had dodged that bullet but it was the last time I was lending out Maria's car! I couldn't deal with the strain.

When I came home the next day Maria was unusually attentive. She is normally an affectionate woman but that night she was exceptionally so. I walked through the door as she was preparing dinner dressed in what appeared to be only one of my white dress shirts. The white contrasted sharply wit the natural cinnamon of her complexion and her thick raven hair. As she moved about the kitchen the effect was at once erotic and voyeuristic. I felt like I had intruded on an intimate moment.

I stepped up behind her a pressed my lips to the back of her neck and breathed in her scent. "You look much better in this than I, caro. You also smell as delicious as that food."

She smiled and kissed me deeply. "Sit. I have a special night for tonight," she explained.

"What is the occasion?" I asked, my mind drawing a blank. Our anniversary wasn't for a couple of days yet and my birthday was months away.

She looked up from what she was doing. "Do I need an occasion?"

"No, but..." I began.

"Hush and wash. Dinner is finished".

We ate in silence. Maria seemed distracted but wouldn't say what was bothering her. After dinner, dishes tucked into the washer, we sat and talked about the days events over a glass of sangria. I told her that Mike had returned to the company and while she was not happy about it she took the news in stride. This struck me as odd but I wasn't going to ruin an evening by pressing the point.

During most of the conversation Maria succeeded in distracting me by running her finger across my back. That, coupled with her attire, kept me from staying on topic. Presently, she leaned forward and lightly brushed her lips against mine.

"Don't you think it is time for bed?" she asked.

I wasn't about to argue with that. We rose and made our way into the bedroom with our arms around one another. She swung around and kissed me again. Her hand slid around and took me by the hair and pulled my mouth closer to hers. Her mouth devoured mine. Her hand slid down and gently massaged my balls. My breath caught from pleasure and pain. Her head pulled back for a moment as her tongued flicked out and licked my lips. I could barely make out her heavily lidded eyes.

"Tonight is for us, darling, just us together," she breathed as her mouth came back to mine. I moved to position her closer to the bed when she spun and deposited me on the mattress first. Her mouth continued its work on mine as she began moving her hand across my stomach. My own hand began to caress her breast when she moved it away and placed it on the bed.

"You first, meu velho homem." She breathed into my mouth. Her kiss came again, fragrant wit her desire. Maria loves to kiss and she proved it again and again. She shifted her body further up on mine and began unbuttoning my shirt, her mouth traveling to take up each space vacated by her busy fingers. She traveled down un-tucking my shirt. I pulled it off and our mouths returned to one another. Her hands were busy moving further and began to unbuckle my belt and remove my pants.

I was awash in sensation. I felt helpless beneath her actions. I was going to be made loved to and there was little I could or wanted to do to stop it. She barely moved as she took off my pants. Her hand reached into the fly of my boxers and found my swollen cock. Slowly she began to stroke it up and down. She pushed herself up and rubbed her inner thigh against my leg. I moaned. Her flesh was warm against mine.

She took my cock out from my shorts and took it into her mouth. Slowly she moved her head up and down its length while her hand pumped it. I lay back and groaned. Then she began to lick up and down the under shaft with her tongue like it was some sort of Popsicle. My hands moved down and took her hair and I groaned.

"Caro, quit, I'll come too soon," I protested. Her answer was to look up at me, smile and return to her work.

Her mouth, warm and wet, encircled the tip in a little 'O'. Her fingers gripped the base and she pushed down enveloping me. Her warm thigh continued to stroke mine sending me a flood of sensation. Her mouth moved up and down in a steady rhythm pushing me ever loser to the edge. Once I could take it no longer I reached over and took her hands. She rolled onto her back as I kissed her gently and licked at her ear.

"No, this is for you," she protested.

My lips moved down to her breast. "Yes, yes, it is."

My tongue traced a line from her nipple to her pussy. I kissed the inside of each thigh and then began kissing her sex. By this time, my own need was building. Her hips began to undulate against my mouth. I stuck my tongue as far into her as I could. She moaned and I placed my arms around her thighs and pulled her closer into me. Her hands moved down and grabbed my hair pulling me deeper. Her hips sped their tempo and I knew that she was close. I stopped what I was doing and she moaned in protest.

I moved up close and placed the head of my cock next to her. I rubbed it against her. She responded by grinding her hips faster and forcing me into her. I didn't respond immediately. Instead I rubbed the head against her. She groaned and bucked against me in protest.

I inserted the tip and began moving it in and out. Her gyrations increased. Finally I sank into her warmth and she moaned from somewhere deep inside. I stretched out over her and reached back holding her bom-bom in my hands to set our rhythm.

I began to rotate my hips in sync with hers, making sure to press my pelvis tight against her clit with each stroke. Our mouths locked again and our tongues danced in their own rhythm.

Without warning she heaved up, throwing me over on my back. In a fluid movement she threw a silken leg over me, straddled me and thrust me deep inside her. Her eyes blazed as she placed her hands on my chest holding me down. Her hips ground against mine as we both reached for our climax. She was in control now and I felt as if I existed just as an appendage for my cock. My presence was superfluous to her need.

She ground faster and soon I could feel her body contract as she reached her release. This pushed me over and we both fell into an abyss of sensation.

For minutes we lay there, sated and exhausted. I could feel both our hearts beating and her breath came ragged against my chest. Her eyes looked up at me and softened.

"I love you, Peter." It was plea, a statement and affirmation all in one. I slicked back her damp hair and kissed her forehead.

"I love you, too, meu caro. Only you." I lay back, drained and waited for the peace of sleep.

From the edges of the consciousness I could hear her soft reply, "Remember that, meu homem velho"

The next two days were spent tiding up a few loose ends at work in preparation for my anniversary. I confess that my mind had a habit of drifting off to that might wondering what she could have possibly meant by her last comment. Had it really been as ominous as it seemed?

The only other odd occurrence happened the day before our anniversary. I had been walking down the hall from my office to the Quality Assurance department. This brought me past the Men's room. From a distance I heard a milling like a scuffle from the men's john followed by quick footsteps. I moved off in that direction when the door flew open and Dan Turner came out. He was bent over, clutching at his crotch and apparently in pain. On his face was a bright red splotch. His eyes took a second to focus and he pushed past me and limped down the hall toward his cube. I am not one to get into another man's business. I figure that if it was that painful to piss, the son-of-a-bitch had probably received a real good dose of the clap from whatever bimbette he was screwing currently. There was a God!

Later that day I received a call from Maria asking if I would meet her for a drink at the lounge in a nearby Hilton hotel. I agreed and we made a date for 6 o'clock that evening. At 5:30 I packed up my laptop and made ready to leave. Pam had left earlier and the cubes outside were pretty much vacant as I made my way back out to my car. I did stop by Dan turners cube and found him there. He seemed a bit startled to see me.

"Un hi, Peter. How are things?" he said. His eyes avoided mine.

"That's fine with me but what about you? Are you doing okay?"

"What do you mean?" he sputtered.

"You haven't seemed your old self. And the way you have been walking around you look like you're in some pain there. Anything I can help with?" I pressed. As a manager I had to appear like I cared whether I did or not. Actually, his pecker could have rotted off in his hand for all I cared.

"No, thanks, I'm fine. Peter, you speak Portuguese a little don't you?" he asked plaintively.

"Yeah. Why. You aren't thinking of going back to Brazil, are you?! That would be a really bad idea, Mike."

He shook his head. "No. Do you know what 'quando um homem quer lhe mostrar a cabeça, mostre-lhe a raiz porco bastardo' means?"

I frowned. "Well, best as I can guess porco bastardo means 'pig bastard'. As for the rest, I think it means something like 'if a man wants to show you its head, show him its root.' Where the hell did you hear that?"

"He rubbed his crotch again and grimaced. " Must have read it somewhere."