The glare of the computer screen seared through her eyeballs and into the back of her skull like acid. Blinking fiercely, Anna managed to pry her face away from the diabolical thing. She rubbed her temples, then let her gaze drift anywhere but back to the screen. The remains of her dinner: a half a pizza pocket and a full can of pop (nutrition was always foremost in her choice of meals). She frowned as she noticed that the pop had sprayed fizz all over her notes. Quickly damping them dry with a Kleenex, she sighed in disgust with herself for having been too caught up to even notice. Taking a deep slug of the drink, she finally spun her chair away from the desk to face the room. Anna's eyes were caught by the amulet on the coffee table. Prying herself out of her seat, she crossed the room and picked it up. It was a jade disc with a hole in the middle, entirely covered with designs and inscriptions in some foreign language, certainly not English or Spanish, and it had been hung on a simple leather thong.
Flopping down on the couch, she sank into the cushions and stared at it while her mind wandered. It seemed a strange thing for Connie to have brought back for her from her vacation. Anna almost never wore jewelry and wasn't big on antiques. She recalled the fun Connie'd told her all about having had on her trip and instantly felt a pang of longing and regret so intense it hurt, like a fist squeezing, crushing her chest, and she fought back tears of frustration. It wasn't like Anna couldn't have some fun if she really wanted to, a social life, a lover if she really wanted one. She was considered attractive, was in good shape, and had a friendly enough way with people. She knew she had no one to blame but herself, but she just couldn't seem to help it; there was so much work to do, and once she got started at something she just couldn't let go until she was finished. She'd practically made herself a hermit. Life was passing her by and she was letting it go. She was such a wimp. Why couldn't she find a little adventure, a little fun like Connie had. She knew why, it would mean having to actually go somewhere and leave all the things that she spent so much time on. Why couldn't a lover just come to her without her having to go look for him? Why couldn't things be easy? She wished so hard she felt her chest might pop.
"Send me someone," she said aloud. Though her eyes were closed, she turned them skyward as though someone could hear her, as though someone would actually care. "Send me a man," she breathed, voice saturated with the desperate longing that filled her. A deep voice interrupted her pity party. "Anna Maria Martinez?" it said. Naturally, she did the only reasonable thing she could do: she sat bolt upright and screamed, practically propelling herself through the back of the couch and into the wall.
"Who the hell are you?" she demanded, eyes bugging out of her head.
He
was a tall man with long, black hair, dusky complexion and smooth, leonine features. He was in excellent shape, but not grotesquely huge. He was also naked. His cock dangled limply before him like a short, fat sausage right at eye level with her.
Ignoring her question, he leaned down and took her face in his hands, giving her a fierce and insistent kiss. She struggled, even hitting him in the balls in her attempt to get free, but he didn't even seem to notice; the kiss went on. As it did, the warmth of his lips spread through her body and she felt her fear turning to something else. Anna stopped struggling and looked into his eyes. They were deep and dark like hers and she saw herself reflected in them. She trembled and knew she should be scared for her life, fighting him with all she had, but for some reason she found herself peaceful, all the fight fleeing her, and she didn’t know why. She was filled with confusion and curiosity. Why, how, was this happening? What was he doing to her? Was he even human? She knew she’d hit and scratched him, but it was as though he’d never felt a thing. He just stared into her eyes. The passion burning under the surface of his deep, dark eyes was so intense she could almost touch it. Her lips still tingled hotly from his kiss. He had a light, musky scent she couldn’t put her finger on; but it wasn’t unpleasant, just the opposite in fact. She found all her pent-up lust bubbling up and filling her chest with hot fire. It was suddenly awfully warm in here, and she was almost shocked to realise that she was quickly getting wet. He took her face in his hands and kissed her again. Surely this was a dream. She squirmed on the couch, unable to sit still. He wasn’t human. No way. This was impossible. He was surely doing something to her. But she couldn’t fight it. She didn’t even think she wanted to anymore. Her breath felt heavy in her chest.
The parting of their lips left her slightly breathless.