Vi

December 2nd 2000. Circular Quay. Sydney Australia.

They were on the sofa, a cool breeze coming from the opened door balcony overlooking the harbour. He was slowly massaging her feet while she was immersed in her reading.

“Will you marry me? “ he asked softly.

Her head jerked up from her legal brief, her spectacles almost falling off, the gesture being so brusque; she looked straight into his cerulean blue eyes, and asked, “What did you say?“

“Will you marry me?” he repeated.

“Ethan...Is this a joke?” she blurted, gasping.

“No Vic, you know I love you, I know you love me. We've been together for over a year, and I don't see myself with anyone else, ever... so I think it's time I make it official...” he explained, caressing her legs.

“You know I'm flying to New York tomorrow night for 3 weeks...” She replied, her voice trailing off, getting distracted by the circles he was drawing on her flesh.

“About that...How would you feel about moving permanently to Sydney?“ he asked, hesitantly.

"Is this what this proposal is about? You want me to move here?” she slowly retorted, suspiciously.

“Babe, of course I want you to move here! This is where I live, but no, I'm not proposing because of that. I love you. I need you. I want you to be my wife, the mother of my children. I mean it. Think about it. You always say you want a family, as do I, but we can't start until we are married...You always say you want to set roots somewhere, because you are sick of feeling like you belong nowhere... Well, baby this is what I'm offering you...We're not getting any younger...” He trailed, letting his arguments linger in the air.

“Ethan, I say a lot of things. I'm 27 years old, I have my dream job at the UN in New York, and you knew this when we met...I'm barely starting my career. Besides, I don't know anyone in Australia, except you and your mother who, by the way will not be thrilled when she hears about this...What would I do here? ” She argued.

“You'll be my wife! You're a lawyer! You could do any type of work or not work at all! Whatever you’d want sweetheart! Hell, you can even be a socialite or a full time lady of leisure...if you wish!” he passionately countered, “Money will never be an issue…so you really can do whatever you want.” he smiled, winking at her.

“Ethan...” she sighed, pouting, her hand running through her wavy hair, dishevelling her ponytail.

“Vic. Please…” He shook his head; trying to stop the opposing argument he knew was coming and added, ”I'm 33. I have aspirations to one day be in charge of this country. I need a woman by my side, and right now, you are the woman I love. I need to know you are committed to this relationship...”

“Ethan...I...” She tried to interrupt.

“Look...” He held his hand up, stopping her from talking, and said, ”I've been groomed my entire life for this. The elections are next year, and I will be the Premier of New South Wales providing all goes according to plan. This will only be the beginning baby...” He smiled. “My days of having different women in my arms stopped the day I met you in The Hague over a year ago. You mesmerized me then, and you do even more now. I simply need to marry you. Please.”

He looked at her with pleading eyes. He loved her. She knew this with every fibre of her being, but marriage? To a politician, no less?

Never mind Ethan was a talented lawyer and the son of a mining industrialist letting his own company be run by other lawyers and MBA holders; he lived and breathed for politics. He was one of the youngest members of the house, and by all accounts was destined to leave his mark on the Australian national political arena in the years to come.

"I'll think about it.” she capitulated.

“That's all I ask... for now.” He said embracing her, and caressing her wrist. He knew, that simple touch would make her weak.

((~~!~~))

That night, as they were in bed, and Ethan lay next to her, asleep, she started to think about her life.

She was 27, soon 28, and Ethan was the first man she truly loved, body, spirit and soul. He was by all account the love of her life, whatever the expression meant.

She had already proved her love for him by coming to Sydney that first time last year, only six weeks after meeting him at a cocktail party organized aside a conference at the International Court of Justice in The Hague where she was presenting.

Meeting him, she was charmed by his Australian accent and his wit. His physical beauty was of course immediately attractive, but she had met and slept with plenty of aesthetically gifted men before, so there was nothing new there. What had been was his air of dangerousness that intrigued her, coupled with his relentless pursuit of her after they had their first time.

The intimacy they shared. What they did to each other, the way their bodies responded to each other. A new world had opened for them both, from their first night. She became complete as he gave her something she didn’t know she had been missing her entire life.

Their first kiss had been violent. Their coupling, urgent, unrelenting, unforgettable.

After the party, being the perfect gentleman, he had accompanied her back to the Intercontinental where she was staying for the duration of the conference. They had had a romantic dinner and a final drink at the bar, and then she had taken the elevator to go to her room. Alone.

As she had been fidgeting with the electronic key to open the door, she had felt his presence behind her. She had tuned and looked at him, expectantly. No words were exchanged; He had just pushed the door open.

He took her lips and she nearly drew blood, biting his tongue and digging her nails into the back flesh of his neck. He responded in kind, pushing her against the door, holding both her wrists above her head with one strong hand while pressing his hardness into her body as his free hand slid her dress up and in a single motion, ripped her underwear before he lifted her leg around his waist. She moaned into his mouth as she felt one of his fingers graze her clit and apply hard pressure to it, as another entered her core. She whimpered when his tongue left her mouth to reach the crook of her neck, only to bite it, as his hard member penetrated her in one swift, determined stroke.

Under his ferocious touch, a side of her she didn’t know she had, had awakened. Irrevocably.

"Oh...God...yes," she had hissed, accepting him completely as he fucked her with deep and brutal strokes. Her essence, her spirit, her total consciousness flowed down to the hard and pulsating part of his body between her legs. Every sensation was centred on his heavily veined member plowing in out of her clinging cunt. In and out, he drove himself into her again and again, striving to make them one.

The top of her dress open, her nipples, getting chewed between his teeth in complete rhythm with her hands holding and pulling his hair equally matching harmonically each stroke from his body into hers; her sanity snapped, and only the fire in his pounding mattered.

Time stopped as she and he fucked and fucked.

“Mine,” he had claimed her, taking her mouth again, when she reached her first climax, as if his only purpose in life was to bring pleasure to her. As he had continued to hammer himself into her with boundless energy, he had been rewarded again when her body violently trembled and writhed against him as she had climaxed for the second time. Not slowing a beat, he had continued to pound, deeper and harder, without pause. Her cunt was full of him, sweat poured down her neck and breasts, as he continued to lick, bite, and suck so hard, her flesh was almost raw. Yet, she found herself whimpering and moaning against his neck, urging him on, uncontrollably.  Finally, she had felt him explode inside the clenching, squeezing, clutching core of her womanhood.

Pleasure, so pure, so intense it hurt, had burst upon her brain filling her with agony and ecstasy at the same time. He had cried out “ Mine” with tears his eyes, as they had looked at each other, almost mystified by the intensity of what had occurred. “Yours” she had surrendered, crying into his ear, as they clung to each other while the spasms subsided.

He had spent the rest of the night getting acquainted with every inch of her body.

Their affair was intense, unconventional, consuming.

Yet, they needed more, and now, he wanted to make it official.

((~~!~~))

She was beautiful and knew it. It was her eyes, gold, green and a hint of silver, a shade resulting from the combination of her mother’s Spanish and Swedish descent, and father’s African ancestry. Adding, smooth luminous skin, a button nose, long shinning curls, and a slender figure, curvy in all the right spots; she was all woman, destined to tun heads.

From the age of 3, her father told her he had to prevent boys from harassing her at the pre-school. And after yet another barrette pulling incident, him and her mother sent her to an all girls Parisian catholic boarding school at age 7, so she could develop the talents she was already showing as a child. She had a younger brother, Deric, whom she would only see during the weekends or the holidays until she turned 15.

Being alone at school, she grew up hedging barriers to protect herself. She was the only colored girl and she was the smartest student. Teachers loved her, while her classmates detested her. Too smart, too pretty, too much, was something she heard daily. She only had one girlfriend during her entire time there; Lily, an American girl from New York, whose parents had also sent there because they were too busy with their international jet setting to educate her. The fact that both their mothers were Spanish sealed their bond. They were sisters.

This had been the only lasting bond she experienced in her life thus far, apart from her brother, and of course her dearest friend, Kevin.

She met Kevin at The International High School in Paris, yet another private school, but at least a mixed one.

Her mother had died suddenly from an aneurism at the age of 41. She was 15 and fought with her father to be released from the all girls’ school.

She wanted her independence and wanted to be legally emancipated so she could claim her mother's inheritance and start living her life on her own terms, he compromised by allowing the change of school.

Being surrounded by teenage males on a daily basis for the first time, she found out on her own that her beauty attracted them. They didn't care that she was smart, only beautiful. She took advantage of it and started to explore her sexuality. Kevin was the exception. Being strikingly aesthetically beautiful himself and totally uninterested in his appearance or hers, he understood her and they connected on a level she never had experienced before with the opposite sex, including with her own brother. During their 2 years there, he protected her, kept encouraging her, and ultimately became her first and only male friend. Her best friend.

At 17, after being accepted at the same business school, he asked her to move in with him in the empty penthouse his father owned next to the Trocadero. His parents being divorced, his father lived in DC where he worked at the World Bank, while his mother lived in her chateau in Burgundy. He was on his own, and convinced her he could use her company. For the next 8 years, he was her confidant, he saw her through everything, as she did him. Lovers came and went, years passed, diplomas were celebrated, jobs taken, and Lily visited every year for a couple of months at times.

They all grew into fairly well adjusted adults, considering the circumstances, promising each other we would always be there for one another.

It was 1998. At 25, the world was at their feet.

((~~!~~))

You know the saying “Man plans, God laughs.“ 

Well, it couldn't have been truer in our case.

The first fissure in my friendship with Kevin happened when he met his first serious girlfriend: Serena. At 25, Kevin had only slept with only a handful of women, contrary to yours truly who had spent a lot of time experimenting, and he never had been in love.

Funnily enough, my brother Deric was the one who made the introduction. He had been modelling since he was 16 after quitting school, stating it wasn't for him when there was so many more interesting things to do in life than learning useless things!

Serena was a 22 years old blonde beauty from Italy, and Kevin fell for her. Hard. I couldn't stand her. Don't ask me why, I couldn't answer. Kevin sensed it in the first few months of their relationship and then knew it for certain when I openly told him right before moving out of our apartment as I was leaving for Geneva where I would start my internship at the UN European headquarters while finishing my master degree in international law. From then on, distance and my inability to force myself to tolerate his girlfriend created a rift between us.

At 25, I felt alone, once again.

Of course, Deric was there with the weekly phone calls, but it simply wasn't the same. Lily had returned to the US, was in medical school, and in her fourth year; she couldn't visit anymore in spite of wanting to.

Working became my best friend.

Meeting Ethan was like a breath of fresh air swirling into my life. He was interested in me. Not because I was beautiful, but because of my spirit, and our chemistry was just indescribable. It was my turn to fall, hard. When I asked him if he ever dated a black woman he told me he was color blind, which I found hysterical at the time, not knowing it was true!

Too bad his fellow countrymen weren't. But I would only learn this much later.

The romance between Ethan and I was intense from the start, but reached high gear when he asked me to accompany him back to Australia almost a year prior to today. It was December 1999, we had known each other less than 2 months, and he convinced me I would have the time of my life celebrating the world's entry into the new millennium in Sydney. He was about done with the contracts, he had been working on in London, and simply stated: he wasn’t leaving Europe without me in his luggage.

“Trust Me,” he said. “You'll never want to leave.” his Australian accent always had the effect to make me weak in the knee and he knew it. And then, he would come to Geneva and use his personal charm to convince me to go with him. Making the same demand over and over and cajoling me every chance he got, I finally relented. We had only been on a handful of dates since our meeting because we were located in different countries, but each were intense, unforgettable, always leaving us wanting more. He rang me on a daily basis, morning and evening, making me crave his voice, and his presence in my life.

Kevin had broken up with Serena a few months back upon finding her heavily kissing another man in a club, and we somehow reconnected via more regular phone calls, so when came the time to decide if I would go down under, he was the person I rang for advice.

I had already told him about Ethan, and how I had strong feelings for the Australian- never mind the fact that before him, Australia simply was not on my radar at all - but I was afraid of taking this relationship too seriously because in the end, the man was based on the other side of the world.

Kevin convinced me to go, arguing that Ethan was making me happy, and at the worst if things didn't work out, I could always say “I went to Sydney,“ which was more than most European could or would say. The final clincher was winter; Geneva, where I lived at the time was getting colder by the day and the snow wasn't letting up, wouldn't it be nicer to be strolling on a Sydney beach?

I caved. I was going on my first trip to Australia.

I stayed nearly 2 months instead of the 2 weeks I had originally planned. Ethan went all out being my tour guide, partner in crime, counsel, friend and my lover. For the first time of my life, I actually felt wanted, supported and loved, completely and unconditionally. For the first time, I was needed. Australia was the most beautiful place I had ever seen and Sydney was growing on me, trying to displace Paris as my hometown.

Somehow, I had utterly fallen in love with Ethan and his country. But eventually after postponing several times, I had to leave to go back to my life and my work. The time for champagne dinners, cruises on the harbour and endless love making nights had to halt, and reality set in.

He had to go back attending to his administration, and I was headed for New York to start my new job at the UN international law commission.

Our relationship had blossomed so much in the next couple of months, that we flew at every opportunity we had to see each other. Daily phone calls were not enough. We both physically ached being apart. Weekends in Hong Kong, Bali, St.Lucia, or London were a common occurrence for us. Whichever city was the mid point of where our work was taking us, we would meet in and barely leave our hotel room. Each encounters more intense, more demanding of permanency. Distance made our love stronger, making leaving each other a bit harder every time. Our involvement was surprisingly kept under the radar. In spite of being in the public eye at home, Ethan private life was a non-event as far as his colleagues and local friends knew. This suited me just fine, as I was a very private person, only looking for recognition through my work, and with no desire to ever make the society pages.

Now, here I was almost a year later, with the man I loved sleeping next to me, and in turmoil about what the right decision was. I had grown accustomed of waking up with Ethan there, accustomed to how a simple caress would make me crave him, accustomed to the highs, to his glowing eyes as he came inside me, making me his a little bit more every time. I couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping next to him, only to have it ripped away because I needed to leave... again.

I was hooked.

((~~!~~))

All this introspection had made me thirsty, and I got up silently to get some water.

With my drink in hand, instead of returning to bed, I ended up on the balcony of Ethan's penthouse. It was a full moon, and the view was simply magnificent. Being on the top floor of the building, I had the bridge and the city at my feet. I couldn't hear any noise, and pondered if I truly belonged here. I prayed the answer would come to me.

I don't know how much time passed. The Sydney Harbour Bridge entranced me. It was majestic. Looking at it, I thought I could almost touch it. I felt at peace. I was home. Could I live here and be happy? I hoped so. I simply couldn't face the alternative. Losing Ethan was not an option.

As I was about to turn from the view to go inside, Ethan arms enveloped me, holding me tight against him and the railing.

I leaned against his chest, sighed softly and said, “E?” “Yes, baby?” he murmured in my ear, then kissing my shoulder blade, “I'll cancel the trip. I'll marry you.” I said, praying it was the right decision.

He touched my wrist, swirling me around in his arms, and looking at me, eyes glowing, said in a low, husky voice, “Let’s celebrate…I know just the way…”