Fatefully Yours

by Misha Anderson

  CHAPTER 14

  KLAUS

  I stare at the envelope in front of me and my first thought it's to ignore it. Pretend that this damned piece of paper got lost somewhere, but I know that's not possible. It's my businessman and old friend, Felipe's wedding invitation. So many reasons that make me want to run away from the party, starting with the dislike me and Sara, the bride, feel for each other, and ending with the embarrassment of showing up in a public event stuck to a wheelchair.

  Just thinking about the pity stares I'm going to get from my F1 friends make me sick. I throw the envelope on the nightstand at the exact moment the phone rings. I look at the screen, and note that there are no coincidences in this life, speak of the devil and what not. I pick up.

  "What's up, Felipe? How are you?"

  "You tell me, my man. Did you get my wedding invitation?"

  I take my time answering, I clear my throat and then finally say, "Yes, my friend." Three words and there's a deadly silence on the other end. After a few seconds Felipe says seriously, differently than his usual tone.

  "Unless you die, I won't accept you not coming, man."

  "I'm going to try, man," I answer evasively, hoping like crazy that me trying is enough for him. But I know that he's not going to let me off the hook.

  "Fuck trying, Klaus. I know the accident was hard on you, besides your thing with Sara, but fuck it, you're my best friend and she's my fiancée. Don't go that way, man. I'll be waiting for you at the church and the reception, no excuses Klaus. Why don't you bring Anahí? Last time I was there you guys seemed to be getting along, am I right?"

  "I'll ask her if she wants to come with me. We'll see each other on Saturday. See you, Felipe." I say goodbye, trying to finish this conversation quickly. He wants to check if Anahí and I are together. When it comes to other people's lives Felipe forgets he's a man and behaves like a gossipy old lady.

  Seeming to know we were talking about her, Anahí puts her head through the opening of the door and whispers asking if she's disturbing. I motion her to come in as I hear Felipe saying, "See you Saturday, Klaus. Send Anahí a kiss for me."

  "Yeah, I will. See you Saturday, Felipe."

  Anahí hands me a glass of green juice and stands in front of me, tipping her chin up showing that she wants me to drink it all, waiting for me to empty it without messing around.

  "You happy, little cabocla?"

  She smiles and when she tries to take the empty glass from my hand I pull her on my lap and bury my face on my favorite haven, the curve of her soft neck. I breath in deeply and can smell her sweet scent of ripe juicy fruit.

  "Hmm, you smell so good. I could spend the rest of my life here." I slide my hands over her thigh, squeezing the slender curve of her hips and fill her ear with wet kisses.

  I slowly pull away and ask her to reach out and grab the invitation from the nightstand. Anahí starts to hand me the envelope but I tell her to open in, trying to disguise the unhappiness in my face. She reads the invitation then stares at me, as if she can see how uncomfortable I feel.

  "I know Felipe is your friend, but if you don't want to go then be honest and tell him. I'm sure he'll understand."

  "Having to go to this party is making pissed as hell," I grumble, passing my fingers through my hair, irritated.

  "It's just a party, Klaus," Anahí answers back.

  "The entire Marussia team is going to be there. And not only them, but the whole fucking Brazilian F1 will be at that fucking wedding. I don't want them to see me like this, riding Pen." I point at Penélope, my wheelchair.

  Anahí smiles at finding out the name Renato and I gave the chair, but then turns serious again. Saying in a calming slow tone, "You're getting better every day, Klaus. You should feel proud of your persistence, your strength. Don't let anyone tell you differently, Viking."

  I put my hand on her cheek and bring her face closer to mine, a few inches between my mouth and hers, she raises her head and I rub my lips on hers, probing the softness of her plump lips. It's amazing how Anahí, so young, always says the right thing at exactly moment I need it the most. I look at her dark almond eyes and think: would I ever be able to live without my little Indian girl, my little stubborn cabocla? I know for certain that everything would lose a little of its meaning, my days would be colorless, gray.

  "You're coming with me, right?" I ask her after catching her lower lip with my teeth.

  "I don't know. Would you like me to come with you?"

  "And what the fuck would I do in that place without you, woman?" Anahí smiles and nods. "Then it's a date. Tomorrow we'll go out and buy you a pretty dress."

  She gets up quickly and shows me her hellcat self, when she puts me in my place.

  "And an elegant suit for you, sir. Now stop dawdling and finish getting ready. You have an appointment with the psychologist and then we're going to the botanic gardens, a little nature and fresh hair will be good for you."

  I leave the Gávea clinic, my thoughts still scrambled after my conversation with Dr. Vítor Lopes, my psychologist. There are so many questions that bother me, my dismay from not bring able to stand on my own legs, the hard time that I have exposing my feeling, and, mostly, the fear of rejection that holds me down and prevents me from taking the next step with Anahí. Vítor's words still hammer my mind.

  "And have you told her how you feel about your relationship? If you see what you're doing as a commitment, why do you insist on tying the future of your relationship on the possibility of you being able to walk or not?"

  "I don't tie the future of our relationship on my recovery, but I'm not an idiot, Vítor. Anahí is a beautiful young girl with a life full of possibilities. Of course she's not going to want to take the next steps with a man who is stuck on a wheelchair. She needs a man to protect her and can give her the whole package: marriage, white picket fence house, and kids. Fucking look at me."

  "I am, Klaus, and what I see makes me very glad. The last report from your doctor is very promising, you can already hold your upper body weight with no support, move your hips, and the muscles on your spine are getting stronger every day. The question is, if you guys have been enjoying a healthy sex life, what makes you thinks you can't have children? Have you spoken with a specialist about this?"

  "No, I never talked about this."

  "Then I suggest you do. Maybe those monsters are only in your head. Next week we'll work more on those questions."

  I left Vítor's office with all those questions buzzing around my mind. Could it be that I can give her, give us, a family, a future?

  "What's your plan here, Renato? Chocking me? If I choke to death, you're out of a job. Loosen that man, you're hurting me, you know? Take those ogre hands from me."

  "Look here, Klaus Schneider, prettying you up is not part of my job. I think the tie looks great, you're the one who's so nervous you'd think you're the groom.”

  I'm strung tighter than violin strings, but since I have to go through this crucible, the least I have to be is dressed in a way that won't embarrass the beautiful woman that will be next to be. Anahí calls my name from the hallway and when she enters my room, I look at my shitty crooked tie and fumble, divided between fixing Renato's monkey-ass job with it and trying not to drool when I face the indigenous goddess that stares me. Anahí looks beautiful in a long red dress with a discreet neckline and a plunging v on the back, leaving her whole back bare. The fit of the dress hugs her curvy form as a second skin and flows to her ankles. Thin strappy silver sandals and minimal make-up round up the irresistible package of the woman in front of me. She comes closer, looking at the weird knot of my tie and I growl, killing Renato with my eyes.

  "This is the third time that Renato tries to tie it. I give up, it's better to go without."

  Anahí leans over my chair, her round breast almost jumping out of her dress, my eyes fall from her face to those two pieces of bronze meat and a rough moan falls from my throat without me realizing. I give Renato a look and he gets the me
ssage, disappearing from the room in the blink of an eye.

  "Close the door, Renato, and wait for us downstairs. Anahí is going to be a while fixing my suit."

  The door closes and Anahí looks at the door then at me, not understanding my intentions until she leans back over me to fix my tie.

  "No, stop!" I tell her, my voice altered by lust. "What kind of panties are you wearing?"

  "Huh?"

  "I asked you what kind of panties are you wearing underneath that dress, or aren't you wearing any?"

  "Of course I'm wearing panties," Anahí refutes, voice unsteady. "It's mesh, the same color of the dress."

  "And I bet it's tiny and see-through, not leaving much to the imagination, am I right?" My eyes lower down her delicious body and the hunger I feel for Anahí is impossible to slake. The more times I have her, the more I want her.

  Anahí nods.

  "Raise the dress, slowly. I want to see," I tell her.

  "Klaus, the wedding. We're going to be late," Anahí says looking confused, her hands on her hips, the glint of her eyes betraying how much she wants to give in to me.

  "Do like I told you and raise your dress, and I can guarantee you won't regret it, little cabocla," I promise, my voice hoarse from desire.

  Anahí's hands wander over the soft light dress, slowly raising the hem to her hips, letting me see the tiny panties, the delicate lips of the soft pussy completely visible from the see-trough quality of mesh lingerie.

  "Just as I thought, now keep it there and come here."

  Anahí walks over to me and stand in front of me, embarrassed, breathless, and clearly aroused from expecting the unexpected.

  "Put one leg here," I pat my chair's armrest. "Now pull your panties to the side and let me have a look at that pretty little pussy, cabocla."

  She bends her leg and using my shoulder for support with one hand, she then pulls her fine panties to the side, exposing the bronze pussy, partially shaved, a trail of very short hairs covering her meaty mons. My hands burn to touch her, I need to feel the softness of her skin, the intoxicating wetness of her sex, her tights walls holding tight to my fingers, my whole cock, inch by inch, buried in that wet cave that's my heaven on Earth.

  I hold her sex with a hooked hand, slowly rubbing my thumb on her delicate button, and with every moan that comes out of Anahí's throat I smear her juice all over her opening, sliding two fingers in, slowly, until I'm fingering her deep, hard, and rhythmically.

  "So wet, look at me fucking you, my little cabocla. Look at how your hungry little pussy swallows my fingers. Fuck, you drive me crazy, honey."

  Anahí grinds against my fingers, frenzied, her hips squirming chasing her orgasm that's closer and closer. I couldn't be harder, wetting my boxer, feeling the wet walls of her pussy continuously sucking in my fingers. A sex nymph, a pleasure goddess, my little cabocla becomes more and more of a woman in my arms and knowing that I'm the male that has her, that I'm her man, the one that brings her to come, drives me wild. Makes me fall even harder for this woman, this girl that swallows me whole, no chance to escape this heady feeling that takes me hostage. Anahí bites her lip hard and bends her back, coming hard. Beautifully. She stumbles forward and uses my shoulders for support, holding on to my neck, straddling my lap. When her breaths start to come back to normal, she holds herself up a little from my lap and opens my pants with difficulty, freeing my hard-as-steel dick.

  "More, I want more, Viking," Anahí whispers while rubbing her wet opening on my cock.

  I guide my dick into her and pull her hips down, entering her slowly.

  "There you go, honey. It's all yours. Ride it to your heart's content, my sexy little cabocla."

  Anahí moves up and down on my lap, impaled on my cock, as a sexy amazon, I pull her neckline down and free her breast from the bra, nipping her hard nipples at every thrust on her pussy. And time flies, we lose ourselves in that lust filled dance, our hips clashing, my cock pumping harder and deeper into Anahí's tight and hungry pussy. I squeeze Anahí's soft, round ass, and bringing her body closer to mine makes me feel more primitive, harder. My hand meets her flesh hard and she moans louder, another slap on her ass and another even louder moan. I lick my finger and bring it between her cheeks, circling her asshole that contracts then opens for my invasion. I probe her tight untouched opening, and Anahí rubs her ass on my finger, whispering so low I can barely hear her.

  "Yes, please."

  I slowly finger-fuck her warm untouched little hole, and grab her hair firmly but making sure I don't hurt her, making her face me. The trembling on our bodies show that we're on the edge of unparalleled pleasure, I close the distance between our face and growl between her lips.

  "I love you, Anahí. You're my fucking live, little cabocla."

  Anahí bends her back and comes in spasms, making my eyes water, baring her body and soul, giving herself to me.

  "I love you, my Viking. I'm yours and you're mine, forever, my love."

  I come in long jets inside Anahí's body, squashing my lips on hers, spilling my moans on her throat.

  After we finish making love, Anahí goes to the bathroom to clean up and after cleaning up any traces of my cum, she sits on my lap to fix the knot on my tie. I look at my suit and the straight knot of my tie and smile at her, winking cheekily.

  "What would I do without you, woman?"

  "And I without you, my Viking?"

  "I love it when you call me that. But now that you have used and abused my body, can we go to this fucking wedding?"

  We sit on the car with silly smiles on our lips, typical on lovers, and I look at the fantastic woman next to me and hold her hand firmly. With her by my side I know I can face the hours of torture I know the party will be.

  CHAPTER 15

  ANAHÍ

  From the moment we got in the car, Klaus hooked his fingers on mine like an octopus tentacle and hasn't let go. There's no need for words, the closer we get to the church, the more nervous Klaus gets

  We get in through the side entrance and sneak into the second row. Klaus pulls his chair next to me, giving me a forced smile and takes a deep breath, trying to pretend he can't see how many eyes are on us. The church is beautifully decorated with white and calla lilies, Felipe looking flawless in a black tux, nods our way as soon as he sees us, apparently happy by Klaus's unexpected presence. Even though Felipe had insisted that Klaus was at the wedding, there was a big chance that he would say fuck it and not go, later giving a lame excuse.

  The church is full of guests and Sara comes in walking slowing over the velvet rug, absolutely beautiful in a princess style dress, smiling at everyone as she walks down the aisle.

  I always thought weddings were beautiful, but so far from my reality. I was never one of those girls that had romantic dreams of a prince charming, the perfect man. I realized early from my people's culture, the Terena, that love is a feeling that grows as we live with hearts open, with the mistakes and successes of each other, no illusions of a perfect life, happily ever after.

  Indigenous weddings are grounded on respect and fidelity. My grandmother told me that in the old days, the wedding ceremony of our people was divided into 5 stages, including the rug made of piri or hituri, a vegetable thread, that symbolizes union, the interweaving of the couple; and the harvesting of mopó, the honey, that was done by the family of the engaged couple before the wedding as a symbol of the union between families. Today is closer to the mold of the white man's ceremonies, retaining only the tradition of the parent arranging the couple’s union.

  I look at Felipe and Sara on the altar, emotionally exchanging rings and I think that my Viking, as resistant to social events as he is, would probably rather be thrown from his Penélope over a cliff than one day marry me. Before the priest has finished the sermon, Klaus, as if he can read my mind, subtly hooks his little finger to mine, tilts his head to mine and whispers looking serious, his eyes on Sara.

  "You'd look beautiful like that."

  "
You think so, Viking?" I ask shyly, also keeping my voice down.

  "There's no doubt in my mind."

  Klaus unhooks his finger from mine and remains thoughtful until the end of the religious ceremony. We go to the car and he sits next to me, helped out by Renato. As soon as the door closes, I ask, "Is everything okay, Klaus?"

  "Sure," Klaus answers me looking bored and distant. "Shall we go?"

  I nod and we ride to the reception at the yacht club, in Urca. Renato squirms on the front seat as if a frog getting shocked. Klaus points his chin at him so I notice what's happening. After some time, almost laughing, he asks Renato.

  "What the fuck is going on? You look like you have scabies, jerking like that.”

  "Only you to make me wear this fucking suit, it’s squeezing my arms, my neck, it's annoying as fuck."

  Our car stops at the entrance to the ballroom and Renato pulls on the suit mumbling expletives, climbs out of the car quickly, opens the wheelchair and settles Klaus in it in seconds, before he can even be embarrassed about it.

  He leans over to buckle the chair's seat belt, speaking low, "There you go, now remember man, you're next to a beautiful woman, in a great suit, you're making great strides in your recovery. If anyone messes with you, just come speak with me, and I'll knock their lights out, old man."

  They bump fists.

  "With all that love, I think you deserve a raise, Renato," Klaus says joking, making Renato laugh.

  "There's no need man, my boss can be a pain the ass, but he's a generous one, he just gave me a raise last month."

  The main ballroom is decorated elegantly, with lilies, calla lilies, and blue and lilac orchids, giving it a romantic, simple mood. A huge crystal chandelier hangs from the center of the ballroom, white porcelain with golden highlights rest on top of tables decorated with huge flower arrangements as centerpieces and covered by blindingly white towels, made shinier thanks to the silver candlesticks light.