Momentos: Mick’s Journey-Excerpt #1

July 17, 2011

Scene-Mick is watching Tono play Jai alai for the first time. It’s also the night of their first official date.

I sat in the midst of a crowd of screaming fans as I watched Tono destroy his opponent. Jai alai, also known as pelota, was a version of handball, except, instead of a hand, or a racket, a basket of sorts was used to catch the fast moving ball. The banana-shaped mitt was tied to each player’s wrist with pieces of leather, and the ball made a loud thwacking noise when it landed in the wicker, clear evidence of the strength of the throw, and the rigid skins that made up the small white ball. The pelotari then flung the ball across an enormous space so that it hit a wall, only to bounce back forcefully, so the next player could catch it without dropping it first. The goal was to keep up with the fast exchange. The first man who dropped or missed the ball was out and replaced by another challenger. Last man standing was the winner. So far, Tono had won three games, which was huge according to the enthusiastic fan sitting next to me. He extolled the virtues of Tono Garat, advising me to bet on the player―a sure win, he guaranteed.

My only desire at that moment was betting on whether or not I’d get Tono in the sack by the end of the night. I was fascinated by the man, not so much the sport. Physically, he couldn’t be anymore perfect. His upper body was massive, and his torso tapered into a slim waist that showcased his succulent bottom, which I couldn’t help but notice. Tono’s legs were long and well shaped, covered in white trousers that stuck to the sweaty, corded muscles. I had spent half the night tossing and fantasizing about the Spaniard, imagining myself being fucked into oblivion. I kept envisioning Tono’s engorged cock, which I’d had a chance to see briefly when we’d stood naked underneath the stars. I hadn’t lusted this way in years. Tono was ringing ever damn bell in my body and the need to be possessed was intense.

I waited outside the fronton after the games were over, and Tono joined me, carrying a small athletic bag that probably contained his dirty uniform in a wadded up ball.

“My car is this way,” he gestured, heading toward a parking lot.

I followed, enjoying the view of Tono’s ass as he moved gracefully ahead of me. When we got to a blue Volvo, Tono stopped and pulled the door open, throwing his bag in the back seat. He waited until I strapped in, and we proceeded, driving across San Sebastian toward the town of Igueldo, located on top of the mountain that bore the same name. It towered over La Concha Bay, offering a spectacular view Tono wanted to share. There was a restaurant named Akelarre, which boasted the finest chef in town, an honest assessment according to all the rating guides; that, along with the view, was worth the drive.

San Sebastian - Donostia Pictures
This photo of San Sebastian – Donostia is courtesy of TripAdvisor

We shared a bottle of red wine and an assortment of delectable appetizers before enjoying the main dish. Tono had ordered bacalao, the salted cod dish that was typical of the region, simply because I’d never tried it before. He wanted to introduce me to new experiences, starting with the food.

“Did you enjoy the Jai alai?” Tono asked, captivating me with his warm brown eyes.

“I enjoyed watching you,” I replied, staring at him over the rim of my wine glass.

“You are very direct, aren’t you?”


“What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?”

“How long do you plan to be in the area, and why would you want to start something we can’t possibly finish?”

“You obviously don’t live in the moment.”

“I want more,” Tono stated.

“Tono.” I was stunned by his statement. I had no intention of jumping into another relationship, fresh on the ruins of my breakup with Paul. I was still reeling from that betrayal, and I wasn’t ready to start something new. Yet, there was something about this man that compelled me to take a chance. I decided to come clean. “I’m getting over a very difficult breakup.”

“Who was he?”

“My life.”

Tono frowned. “Did he cheat on you?”

I shook my head. “That was the least of it. He accused me of a terrible thing, which wasn’t true. I loved him, and he turned on me suddenly. I’m still recovering.”

“How long were you with him?”

“Twelve years.”

Tono whistled. “So, you’re shutting the door to potential happiness?”

I looked around quickly to see if anyone was observing us, and when I realized that we were relatively obscured by the wooden screen around our booth, I reached across the table and held Tono’s hand. “You’re the first man who’s interested me enough to crack that door open.”

“I promise you won’t regret it,” Tono said. He squeezed my hand gently and let it go. “Shall we eat?”

“Can we hurry?” I said, unbelievably moved by the entire exchange.

“I’ve booked two adjoining rooms upstairs.”

“You didn’t.”

Tono’s smile was filled with mischief. “I ain’t as dumb as I sound.”

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