Lucha Libre – The Conclusion

The smell of sweat, stale beer, and tequila permeated the arena. Two men locked in mortal combat. Bodies writhing together. My beautiful Rey fought for pride, domination…and an enormous belt that Zeus himself would’ve envied.

This was La Lucha Libre. Mexican wrestling. Though it resembled no form of wrestling familiar to me. I quite enjoyed watching thick, masculine bodies, slick with baby oil grappling each other. The most striking feature of this art form—colorful, wicked masks which concealed the identities of each contestant.

We’d been through several rounds of amateurs and new contenders looking for their place in the glory and pageantry of it all. The last match of the night, the championship round, had just begun.  Rey, clad in his silver and black ensemble, fought a beefy man sporting fuchsia and gold.

Spectators shouted encouragement and insults, depending on which man they’d placed a wager on. Not that Rey needed my divine intervention, but I toyed with the idea of weakening his opponent. In the end, I let the match play itself out. Rey won match with relative ease.

I waited in the arena as the crowd cleared out, one by one. The frenzy from earlier in the evening mellowed to groups of drunken revelers, flush with their winnings. Finally, Rey emerged, fresh from the shower an in plain clothes. Without the mask, no one recognized the god walking among them.

“There’s a party to celebrate the win, back at my ranch house. You up for a little fun?” he asked.

I ran my hand over his cheek. “I wish I could stay, but it’s time I get back to my home.”

“Come on, stay tonight and I’ll deliver you to your doorstep tomorrow, I promise.”

The temptation to stay tugged at me, but the responsibilities of a goddess were endless and I’d been away too long already. “I’m sorry, love, but I have to go.”

A wicked look twinkled in his eye just before he hoisted me over his shoulder and walked back to his hotel room. I squealed in protests to no avail. Of course, the protests were only half-hearted to begin with.

He heaved me onto his bed and kissed me passionately. We didn’t bother to disrobe, but simply freed ourselves enough to join our bodies together. Our love making climaxed in a flurry of kisses, caresses and waves of pleasures.

Afterward, I draped myself across his chest. Bruises had started to form on his arms and abdomen.

“Why do you put yourself through such physical trials?” I asked.

He shrugged. “It’s the only thing I’m good at.

“Not the only thing.”

“Ha. I’m glad you think so.” Rey smiled up at the ceiling. “Anyway, the payout is worth it. This way I can take care of my mother and mi abuelita. It doesn’t feel like a sacrifice at all.”

Though I knew I shouldn’t, I couldn’t help but use my healing powers to alleviate the worst of his injuries. Soon his breathing evened out, his chest rose and fell with a gentle rhythm. Slipping from his embrace, I placed a single kiss on his forehead.

As I drew myself together, I listened to the powerful beat of his heart. It spoke to me of all the beauty this man possessed, inside and out. With one more kiss to his cheek, I bestowed upon him the gift of divine protection. No opponent would be able to best him—in the ring or in life. Then I left him one more memento and slipped quietly from his room to return to my emerald isle.

Rey’s been retired from the ring for several years now. A touch of gray crowns his temples and grandchildren play at his feet, the youngest bouncing on his knee. Around his neck he still wears a St. Brighid medal—given to him years ago by a mystery woman. Since the last night he spent with her, he’d lived a charmed life…as I’d always intended him to.

Lucha Libre, part 2

 

Brighid: So when I had to part with Rey I found myself…well, for lack of a better word—sad.

 

Cindy: Wait, wait, wait. You just skipped to the end!

 

Brighid: No, I didn’t.

 

Cindy: Yes, you did. Last we heard Rey was about to take a shower.

 

Brighid: Ohhh. Really? Then what writer’s head have I been in because I told someone the whole story.

 

Cindy: Well, it wasn’t me. You deserted me all week!

 

Brighid: I thought you needed a rest, but I’m back—please hold the applause—so where were we?

 

Cindy: Rey found you face down in the dirt in a small Mexican desert town after you had a bender with Quetzalcoatl and he invited you back to his hotel room so he could take a shower.

 

Brighid: Oh boy, you are far behind, all right—let’s start with that shower…

I followed Rey to a small inn, all the while taking in the masculine grace of his gait. His strides were long and solid, but not hurried. He bore the confidence of at least a demi-god, though I knew him to be entirely human. This aspect of his nature intrigued me; humans rarely exhibited such strength of body and mind.

 

“Feel free to tell me it’s none of my business, but how did you wind up here?” he said.

 

“It’s a very long story. Let’s just say I don’t hold my tequila well.”

 

A knowing smile parted his full lips, yet another weapon in his arsenal of charm. “I find there are two kinds of people in this world. Those who can drink tequila and those who can never drink tequila again.”

 

“I fall into the latter category. How about you?”

 

“So far I still can, but that could change on any given weekend.”

 

Right then and there I decided the prior evening had not been a total wash. Were it not for Quetzi and his demon drink, I would never have met this most alluring young man. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d been truly attracted to a mere mortal.

 

The room at the inn held few furnishings: a queen-size bed covered in simple cotton blanket, a chest of drawers, and a single nightstand; his only personal effect in the room—a suitcase tucked neatly in the corner.

 

“It’s not much,” he said as though he’d read my thoughts.

 

“Don’t be silly. It has everything you need.”

 

“True, and few distractions. At least until you arrived.”

 

“Oh my, you are a charmer, aren’t you?”

 

He shot me an innocent glance, but didn’t offer a reply. Instead he asked, “Would you like to shower first?”

 

“Thank you, but I’ll be all right. Go about your business, pretend I’m not even here.”

 

“I don’t think I’m capable of that.”

 

He flopped his suitcase on the bed, then pulled out two pairs of jeans and two t-shirts. One set of clothing he folded over his arm, one set he left on the bed. “In case you’d like to change. I’m sure the jeans are way too big, but you shouldn’t run around town in a bikini.”

 

“But I have you to protect me.”

 

“I’m good, but I don’t think I could defend you against every guy in town advancing on you at once.”

 

“Oh okay, I’ll change,” I said. “No peeking.”

 

“I’ll be in the shower. You’ll have all the privacy you need.”

 

So cute of him to say, as if I wanted privacy. But I decided to play up the damsel in distress routine.

 

After he disappeared into the bathroom, I donned the vestments. Never having worn a pair of ‘jeans’ before, I found the fabric unpleasant. Why anyone would choose to wear such a coarse textile, I’d never know. Didn’t he have anything silk or cashmere?

 

I flicked open his suitcase and rifled through it. My hands landed on something more luxurious, buttery-soft leather. Black leather pants and a black and silver leather mask. Now just what kinky stuff was this delicious young man into? Oh yes, the game was afoot. Wearing a wicked grin, I returned the garments to the bag, then walked over to the bathroom door. A cloud of steam met me as I slipped inside.

 

“Mind if I join you?” I asked.

 

Startled, he turned around, water streaming over the carved perfection of his body. I could hear his thunderous heartbeat and delectable, impure thoughts, though I didn’t need the skills of a goddess to see that he wanted me.

 

“Of course I don’t mind.” Again, he triumphed over me with that disarming smile.

 

To be continued…