AP Eng. Lit.
Sep 30, 2014
The Flask of Amaretto
As the heat rose from our bodies and the sweat glistened, our swords clashed creating luminous sparks. The vigorous intimacy had left us quite weary and I led him into the parlor room. I placed myself upon the burgundy velvet couch and took a fresh Italian cigar from my cabinet while he sat on the chair across the dimly lighted room. He stared at me with a heavily lidded lustful gaze as he took a sip of his glass of Amontillado. I progressed towards his awaiting face, placed my cigar onto his lips, and lit it for him. He felt the burning smoke from my cigar slither within his mouth and move down his throat. The lack of communication between us drove me to gaze towards the paintings on the wall. The sensual stare of the Venus of Urbino held my gaze, the smooth curve of her waist, and her unconcerned stance of her nude physique left me intrigued. Fortunato’s peering eyes pierced through my skin and my inability to appreciate his fixated gaze left him squeamish and wanting. Although he is seen as a respected mason, and possibly even feared, Fortunato’s rather great need for my touch and my attention was ultimately his weakness. I turned and said to him:
“My Dear Fortunato, is there something that troubles you?” “You,” he said. “What precisely are we doing?!” “We are merely relishing each other’s company. I wish to not impose of this silence that fell upon us,
“My Friend;I mean, what is this relationship, this immoral act we have been practicing for the last few years?”
Fortunato questioned forcefully with a longing desire of need on his beet red face and tense shoulders. I gathered my wits and gingerly walked over to Fortunato’s seat. I grabbed his rather clammy hands and grazed my lips across his knuckles while staring profoundly into his round wondering eyes that reflected the wild dark roots thrusting against the summer’s forest. I could see the large vein on his petite forehead throb as the thoughts of our relationship flourished in his mind. He was not mentally prepared to overcome such a scandal, and neither was I, but it was he who held the guilt of betraying the marriage he built with Lady Fortunato close to heart. “Fortunato, there is no need to cause yourself any agony. There is no need to look for meaning in this amour. This affair doesn’t reduce your status as a respected and honorable mason now, gather yourself up and make your journey to yourself. This involvement between us is ours alone
Fortunato broke his gaze and looked down at his settled hands. He sat there, unmoving. For a moment it seemed as though he was in war with his conflicting thoughts, unsure of what there was to come. He finally rose his head and looked at me with somewhat of contentment in his eyes.
“I see where we stand, Montresor. I will now leave. My dear Mary will be suspicious if I were to delay much longer. Until next time,
As Fortunato left the chamber, I let the seductive facade fall from my face. Our amatory expressed from one side. Oh how I despised that man! How my blood boiled at the thought of
him returning to his “beloved” Mary! She should be mine! She was mine. For I loved her still do and always will till I am long dead and rotten and the worms have consumed my flesh. I reminisce on the time I met the radiant Mary Persamato. We were mere children at the time, not even 16 years of age, and her face was filled with youthful, elegant beauty. When she was near, there was no one but us, my Mary Bella and I, as though we were alone in a kingdom by il Mar Mediterraneo. She was my queen, and I was her king, and we had loved with a love that was the envy of all the seraphim of Aidenn, a love that was abstruse. Unfortunately, I didn’t possess the financial level that Fortunato had the privilege to ...
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