The Prodigal
- 1 year ago
- 12
- 0
The Return Of Prodigal free porn video
The Return Of The Prodigal
By Estaban Bacca
A hot Maltese sun had baked the limestone village throughout the day. Theshadows had grown long and any activity along the quay had died away. EdgarBaldachino sat at his regular table outside the café. Over the rim ofa wine glass, his eyes watched the fleet of fishing luzzus peacefullybobbing at their moorings but his thoughts were far from tranquil. His mindwas thirty years in the past.
He had been a youth of eighteen when he'd decided he had to have Maria Bianchi,Maria of the flashing eyes and musical laugh. Two years his junior, she wasthe prettiest girl in the village and the only daughter of its wealthiest family.That having grown up an orphan living with an impoverished aunt might limithis chances had never entered his mind. He had been certain that she wouldrecognize his love for her and that fate would somehow lend a hand. In fact,he had never had any chance at all. Maria had never even noticed the quiet,young man with the adoring eyes. Her heavily chaperoned, very Catholic existencehad kept her so removed from young Edgar that even living in the same smallcommunity, they might as well have been worlds apart.
She had been married, through a family arrangement, to Mario Zamut, a brawling,bull of a man. As the most successful fisherman of the fleet, Mario had acquiredthree boats. Even though he bullied his crews and was known to fly into brutalrages, his success was respected. Everyone in the small community, except Edgar,thought the match was apt.
Their wedding day had been one long torture for Edgar. He had watched bitterlyfrom the fringes of the celebration. Maria's radiant smile and smooth olivecomplexion had been showcased by the brilliant white lace she wore. Edgar hadsought to dull the ache in his heart with steady doses of the local Marsalawine. When Mario had discarded his coat and tie for the dancing, the sightof Maria in the groom's brawny embrace had proved too much for Edgar. He hadtaken himself off along the quay, not stopping until he'd sagged onto the stonesat the tip of the breakwater. The half empty bottle had slipped from his handand smashed. He had focused drunkenly on the long line of the horizon. An azuresky had joined the sapphire sea in a mocking display of beauty while hot tearshad coursed down his cheeks.
The following day he had signed onto a freighter and for the next ten yearshad traveled the world aboard merchant ships. He probably would never havereturned had it not been for the accident. A hoist had failed and a bale ofEgyptian cotton had crashed down into the hold where his gang had been stowingcargo. Edgar's right leg had been crushed and he was left with a permanentlimp that had retired him from the sea. During his time abroad he had donemuch and had many women. His youth and its disappointments seemed a small anddistant part of a life now crowded with experience. His feelings for Mariahad long since been locked into one of those musty memory closets that oneseldom opens. He would have left her there and been safe from his long agoobsession had it not been for the accident. It was the realization that hewas crippled for life which had reawakened the bitterness and turned him towardhome.
Upon his return, he had found the hurt waiting for him. His first sight ofthe place had torn the scab from his emotions and set the old anger to festering.There had been a settlement after the accident. Edgar spent several seeminglyidle weeks studying the place where he had grown up. Eventually, he had formulateda loose plan that with patience and money he'd been sure would eventually achievehis purpose. He'd thought often of the old Maltese proverb, Bil-flustaghmel triq il-bahar, with enough money one can build a roadin the sea. He'd bought the small marina where foreign residents kept theiryachts and small sailboats. The Marina had grown with the influx of touristsand by local standards Edgar had become a man of wealth. His was the only marinesupply serving the small harbor and while he used the fishermen fairly, hefelt no qualms about charging the yachtsmen dearly. He had then built a smalltourist hostel and that had succeeded as well. His growing prosperity was instark contrast to the fortunes of the rest of the village. The numbers of theBlue Finned Dorado, or Lampuka as the Maltese calledthis fish, had thinned. The fishing industry of the island had shrunk to apart-time, coastal business for the most part.
As Edgar was the village's main contact with tourists and outsiders, it hadbecome a matter of some importance that the owners of businesses be on goodterms with him. It was he who decided from whom a car would be rented. It washe who referred vacationing couples to the owners of summer flats for let.Edgar had gradually become the man to see for any foreigner or local in needof advice. He had even become a money lender for small loans that no properbank would have approved. Through all of these developments Edgar had beenscrupulously fair with the villagers. His cleverness at taking advantage ofthe outsiders was considered only just and praiseworthy. Now twenty five yearshad passed since his return and it was generally agreed by all that, even asa youngster, he had shown great promise. In fact, one would have been hardpressed to find a soul not claiming that they had long ago predicted his riseto importance.
During summer evenings, auto traffic was blocked off of favorite streetsand all of island's towns and villages turned out for the passeggiata, orritual stroll . Down the length of the quay and thenback up the seafront boulevard they meandered. Men, women, old and young wanderedalong in a lazy circle, gossiping and enjoying the cooler air. It was alsoduring these strolls that avaricious mothers made sure their eligible daughterspaused on one pretext or another near the café table which Edgar hadtaken as his own. Year after year, he had displayed no more than a polite andpassing interest in the young women paraded before him. Finally, the frustratedmothers had decided that perhaps whatever accident had befallen him had crippledmore than his leg.
Edgar came back into the present with a sardonic smile and a disgusted shakeof his head. Although he was invariably courteous and seemed to wear his statuswith an easy manner, Edgar secretly looked upon all of their attentivenesswith scorn. He remembered all to well the lonely tears he had once shed here.Where had they all been back then? They had been filling their bellies at thewedding tables and singing Mario's a jolly good fellow. Well, there had notbeen a single tear since.
He stood with the aid of a gold knobbed cane and kicked his stiff leg intomotion. His steady progress along the waterfront to his office at the hostelwas punctuated by greetings and well wishes from any he met. A fisherman mendinghis nets, a group of women on a stoop across the way, a street vendor, theyall had a good word for Edgar.
Glancing ahead, he suddenly saw something that quickened his pulse. The momenthe had been waiting so long for had finally arrived. Waiting outside his door,hat in hand, was the burly form of the fisherman, Mario Zamut. Edgar had beenexpecting the man's visit for some time. He slowed his already moderate pacein order to savor the moment. Let the bastard stew, he thought.
Over all the years since his return, Edgar had only caught glimpses of Maria.During Carnival or on feast days, he might see her and then always on the armof the pig who was now watching his approach. She would be fifty years oldhe estimated. That many years of village life invariably made an old womanof even the fairest. Work and thin living saw to that, but Maria had led amore privileged life and her beauty had survived. To Edgar's starved gaze,the mature Maria had become even more desirable than the sparkling girl hadbeen. Each brief encounter had sent a new stab of jealousy through Edgar andinstead of diminishing; his lust for her had grown with each passing year.
When he finally reached his steps, he was smiling. Mario Zamut opened thedoor for him and extended a thick arm to assist his climb. Edgar allowed theman he had so often thought of as 'the pig', to help him inside. He settledhimself into the deep leather chair behind his desk. His caller stood, twistinghis hat, waiting for the offer of a seat but Edgar merely looked at him inquisitively.
"So, Edgar, how are things?" the big fisherman finally blurted with a forcedjoviality.
"Mario Zamut, have we ever been friends?"
"Friends? What an odd question, Edgar. I've known you all your life."
"No one here knew me while I was away… but that is beside the point.My question was… have we ever been friends?"
"Well, no. Not close friends but…"
"Nor even distant ones. I would prefer that you address me formally…asMr. Baldachino."
Edgar was pleased to observe the deep flush that rose out of the big fisherman'scollar and suffused his countenance. He could imagine the acrid taste of thepride and anger that was being swallowed but he merely smiled into the man'sred face and waited.
"Yes, well… Mr. Baldachino then." The big man choked out at last.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Zamut." Edgar asked smoothly.
"I have come with a proposition for you."
"And what might that be, Mr. Zamut?"
"You have been expanding your business interests. I wish to expand as well.I need larger boats to reach the deep water schools. I thought I might offeryou a chance to join me in this business."
Edgar steepled his fingers and pretended to consider the proposal. Let thepig sweat just a while longer before I gut him, Edgar mused to himself. Hefinally could hold it in no longer and when he raised his eyes, he was laughingout loud.
"What is so funny?" the fisherman demanded angrily.
"You are."
Edgar observed Mario Zamut's balled fists and suddenly raised arms calmly.
"Go ahead. I'll have you locked away on charges. I am not one of your frightenedcrewmen. You can't bully your way out of the fix you are in, you big, hairypig."
Despite his anger, the truth of Edgar's statement sank in. The meaty fistsslowly unclenched and the man's huge shoulders slumped.
"You come here to sell me part of your business, eh? What business? All ofyour boats and your home are mortgaged to the hilt and three different banksare threatening foreclosure. Your nets are shot, two of your boats are no longerseaworthy and you have already pissed all of the money Maria's parents lefther down this same hole. So, again I ask you, Mr. Zamut, what business?"
"Yes, it's all true. I should have known there would be no secrets in thisshitty little place. A loan then? If I can just reach the big fish… Ican turn this around and pay you with interest."
"You are a fool. The big fish are not offshore… they are on shore.Fishing is history. Tourism is the only viable industry left for the likesof us. Now here is my offer…
I will pay off all of your notes and I will take ownership of the house andboats and put them all in good order. You will work for me and you may continueto live in the house.
You will run the boats for me. One will take tours thru the Blue Grotto twicedaily in season and the other two will take tourists out day fishing. I shallpay you forty percent of the net. It will either be that way or you will loseeverything within the month."
As Mario Zamut slowly sifted through what he was being offered, he beganto like it. He would still have a home. He would still be the captain of hiscrews. Perhaps this arrogant cripple was going to be his salvation after all
"Done." He said suddenly, "I can see you are a smart fellow, Mr. Baldachino.You won't regret this. I will make money for both of us."
"There is one other thing, Zamut….Your wife…Maria. She willhave to come here to live. You may put it about that she has come to work asmy maid."
"My wife? Are you mad? Impossible."
"Very well then. I believe we are finished here."
"Wait. Be reasonable. Maria would make a terrible maid for you any way. Shehas never worked with her hands. Also there would be talk. A married womancoming into a single man's home …even be it the home of a…well,they would still think the worst."
"You were about to say 'even be it the home of an impotent cripple'. Weren'tyou?"
"Look…Mr. Baldachino, I mean no disrespect but…"
"No. You are right. I am a cripple, though far from impotent. And yes, theywill indeed talk and think the worst. Furthermore, they will be correct. Ifyou send her to me… I will be fucking her. In her cunt, in her mouthand up her arse. I will be using her in any manner I please."
Mario Zamut's face took on a sickish pallor as Edgar's vile words beat athis ears.
"You must be mad."
"You will no longer be allowed to fuck her though." Edgar continued, "Youwill not even be allowed to touch or speak to her. She will still be yoursin name only. In reality she will become my property and will stay here forever."
At a loss for words, the trapped man looked everywhere, other than at Edgar,as he wrestled with himself. If he went along with the fucking cripple's proposition,he might as well hang a sign around his neck that read 'cuckold'. The gimpybastard smiling up at him from behind the desk wanted to brazenly put the hornson him for the whole village to see.
"Our business is done, Mr. Zamut. Either have Maria present herself herebefore eight this evening or the deal is off. Please show yourself out."
Edgar watched Zamut shuffle out. Once the door had closed, he made his wayquickly to the window. He watched the beaten man's retreating back until itwas lost to sight. Countless times he had imagined the scene that had justunfolded. He had always expected that this moment would be one of elation butthere was only an emptiness in him. He was suddenly laughing aloud again. Thistime at himself… for all the time he had wasted hating such a patheticcreature as Zamut had turned out to be.
Edgar returned to the comfort of his chair and poured from the decanter ofbrandy on his desk. As he breathed in the fumes from the snifter, the antiquecabinet clock in the corner chimed six in the evening. Edgar had seen no reasonto reveal that he had already purchased Zamut's outstanding notes from thebank at a discount days earlier. He had taken over the man's property and hadjust finished stripping him of his pride. All that remained to Mario Zamutnow were his honor and his woman. At some point during the next two hours hewould either decide to trade both for mere survival or he would accept ruin.Edgar took a long, slow sip and settled back to watch the face of the old clockand enjoy his anticipation.
Barely and hour had passed when the door buzzer sounded. She had come. Edgarsat motionless at his desk, enjoying his triumph. He had indeed built his roadin the sea of circumstance and now Maria had traveled it to his door. He wishedhe could have been inside her head while she had been taking all those stepsfrom her door to his. He wondered what she was thinking at this moment as shewaited for the man she had never noticed but who now held her fate in his hands.It was so wonderfully ironic that this woman who had consumed his thoughtsfor so long had yet to speak to him. What would her first words be? Would shecry and beg? Would she be angry and scornful?
He could, of course, forbid her to speak at all. As he sat, it dawned onhim that all of his thoughts had been focused on arriving at this point. Hehad wanted to break the man, Mario Zamut and having done so, had found smallsatisfaction in the end. Never make the sauce until you have caught the fish,his old auntie had always told him. He had never really thought of what hewould do with Maria once he had caught her. With his earlier declaration thathe intended to fuck her… to use her shamefully, he had merely been drivingverbal nails into Zamut's ears and heart. A full awareness of his absolutecontrol now washed over him. Having caught his fish, he was free to make thesauce. He arose and limped to meet his prize.
Maria Zamut had listened in shock as her husband had broken down and informedher of the desperate plight they were in. She'd had no idea that they wereon the verge of financial collapse. Mario had always handled their money andled her to believe that all was well. Maria was a bright and intelligent womanbut she had followed the Maltese custom and had never inquired into her husband'sbusiness. She had awakened that morning, the respected, well to do wife ofa strong man and in the blink of an eye her life was changed. She had watchedher husband, sobbing, with his head in his hands, while she struggled withthe reality of being destitute and homeless. It was on top of all of this thatMario had blurted out Edgar Baldachino's demand that she become his maid. Hislive in maid, no less.
She remembered years ago, hearing that the marina had been purchased by anorphan who had returned after having made his fortune abroad. She had beencurious to see the prodigal son who had returned to be subject of so much gossip.Her first sight of the man had stirred no memories though. She had thoughthim handsome even with his stiff leg. She'd been sure that with his successEdgar Baldachino would marry well despite his handicap.
But Edgar Baldachino had not married. He had been socially reclusive, denyingeven the cleverest of the village women any chance to set a marriage snare.This had led to the gossip asserting that the man was impotent. Since he wasobviously not gay it was the only explanation for his lack of interest in women.Maria had assumed it must be so but had given the matter little thought. Withthe passing of time she had occasionally seen him, sitting alone at his tableoutside the café. She had thought he must be very lonely and had feltsorry for him.
Now it seemed that, out of nowhere and for no reason, this lonely, crippledman, whom she had felt pity for, had decided to take control of their lives.She'd asked Mario to explain it all but he had refused to lift his head andlook at her. At last she had decided that she would have to go and confrontEdgar Baldachino herself if she were to have an answer.
So now Maria had been staring at his big oak door for what had seemed forever,waiting for it to open. It was at last swung wide and the man she had cometo see was staring down at her fixedly. Wordlessly he turned from her, leavingthe door open behind him. After the briefest hesitation she entered. Mariafound him behind his desk with his eyes again searching hers intently. Thesilence and the intensity of the man's gaze flustered her and she felt compelledto lower her eyes from his. She was relieved when he finally spoke.
"Your husband sent you?"
"No. I came myself….To ask why you are doing this to us."
I have done nothing to you. You may thank your husband's stupidity for thefix you are in."
Perhaps it was better that she had come on her own, thought Edgar. It showedthat she had spirit. Edgar decided that the time had come to take the measureof that spirit.
"Do you love your husband, Maria?"
"Yes. Of course I love him. He has been a good husband to me for thirty threeyears."
How was it possible, Edgar mused, that a brute like Mario Zamut had beengood to her all those years. How could his Maria truly love such a patheticexample of a human being. Her words hardened his resolve.
"You can save him." Edgar told her mildly.
At this, she raised her eyes again and looked searchingly into Edgar's.
"You have no need of a maid. What is it you want, Edgar Baldachino?"
"You."
His short answer clarified everything for Maria. Suddenly she understoodwhat this odd man was after. It made no sense that he should desire a middleaged woman when he could have his pick of any young girl in the village, butthen what obsession had ever been ruled by logic. Understanding all this didnothing to help their situation though. It suddenly occurred to Maria thatif this crazy man wanted her badly enough to contrive such a confrontation,that it might be she who had the bargaining power.
"Perhaps we can come to some other agreement, Mr. Baldachino. I might beable to meet privately with you in Valletta from time to time."
"You are suggesting a secret affair, Mrs. Zamut?" Edgar's use of her marriedtitle was dripping with irony.
"Yes." She said quietly, a deep blush darkening her olive complexion.
"You are trying to haggle with me. How droll. It turns out that the Mariaof my dreams is just another whore."
"If I am it is for love rather than money and it is your doing. An arrangementsuch as you propose will not save my husband. It would kill him. The ridiculewould destroy him. He has too much pride."
"If he has so much pride, why has he allowed you to come here?"
"I did not ask him."
"Do you think he does not know where you are at this moment? Even now heis imagining you beneath me. Wondering if you are not enjoying having a freshcock plunging into you."
"You are a sick man. I will tell him that I told you to go to hell! ThatI told you we would rather starve!"
Edgar only smiled at her outburst and stood up. Slowly he made his way tothe window and cracked the blinds. He motioned for Maria to join him at thewindow. Joining him she saw that outside, along the boulevard, the passeggiata hadbegun. The street was crowded with strollers.
"If you leave now the gossip will start anyway. If you delay until the streetis empty your proud husband will never believe that you spent three hours tellingme to go to hell. For that matter, I don't doubt that some nosey biddy in awindow across the way made note of you standing before my door for ten minutes.As someone recently observed to me …there are few secrets in this shittylittle place."
Maria sank to the floor at Edgar's feet, her shoulder's shaking with hersobs.
"Please forgive us. I do not know what we have done to make you hate us so,but forgive me and help us. I beg it of you."
Edgar pulled his foot from her clasp and sat in a nearby chair. Her tearsmoved him but not in the way she was hoping. Her weeping had given him a strongerection. Edgar finally ordered her to dry her eyes. At one time he had cravedthe public humiliation of Mario Zamut… but he saw now that keeping thematter private might prove even more satisfying. He told her that as a favorto her he would save the pig she had married.
"Soon, I will summon your husband here by phone. He will escort you home.That should silence any wagging tongues. I will move him and the boats to theother end of the island and he will run the business from there. You may saygoodbye to all your friends and assure them that he and I have a wonderfulpartnership. After the move is complete his silly face will have been saved.It will be up to him to explain why his wife no longer receives visitors."
At this last, Maria looked up at him questioningly.
"I will come for you and bring you back here in the still of night. You willremain within these walls thereafter."
His words had a tone of finality that left Maria numb. She was still on thefloor before him, and now her head was bowed.
"Maria…"
She raised her eyes to find that he had extended his crippled leg and presentedits foot to her. Taking in the lustrous, black leather, she realized what wasdesired of her. What choice did she have? Slowly she lowered her lips to thetoe of his shoe and kissed it confirming her submission.
"Stand and remove your clothing."
As if in a trance, Maria removed her shoes and did as she was bid. Buttonby button, her blouse was undone and dropped. Her skirt and underwear followedand she stood nude before the man who had made himself her master.
"On your knees." Edgar commanded quietly.
As Maria sank to her knees she felt a strange emotion swallowing her. Sheknew she should feel nothing but hatred for the man in front of her. Againsther will though, a subtle satisfaction was stealing over her. It was sendinga tremor through her to know that this strong, devious man …this manthat everyone had assumed was an impotent cripple….desired her aboveall others.
"Crawl over here between my thighs."
Maria went forward on hands and knees until her face met Edgar's crotch.
"Fish it out with your teeth and lips" he hissed.
As Maria's mouth struggled with his fly buttons Edgar pulled his cell phonefrom a pocket and dialed. He was smiling as he watched Maria's tongue delveinto his open trousers while he counted the rings. On the twelfth a hoarsevoice answered.
"Hello."
"Is that you, Mario? You sound terrible, old boy."
"Who is this?"
At that moment Edgar felt the hot wetness of her mouth engulf his prick.
"You don't recognize my voice. This is your friend… Edgar Baldachino.I have decided to improve upon my offer to you. Come over now. The door isunlocked. Your wife and I have something we want you to see."
Finis
Wynona
- 02.11.2020
- 9
- 0
The Light Behind The WorldChapter 21 Prodigal
- 1 year ago
- 7
- 0
Bless Me Father 5 Prodigal
- 1 year ago
- 10
- 0
