Isn’t It Too Big

by Naomi Penn

  But I hadn’t prepared for what followed. I felt a finger stick into me. I shot upright in a flash.

  “What the fu—“, She was also back up in a second, holding a finger against my lips.

  “Do you trust me?”, she whispered, breasts bobbing. It was hard to focus on her face when those things where in front of me like that.

  “I-I don’t know”, I whispered. Confused. Something about what she had just did had been mildly arousing but also squishy at the same time.

  “Trust me.” She whispered, gently placing a hand on my chest and easing me back down on to the bed. I shut my eyes tight, not believing I was going through with this and then, I felt her again, squirming her way in there, making me tickle, tingle and gasp until her finger hit it. A spot. My butt cheeks went taut, trapping her finger as her finger worked thawing that sensitive spot, hammering my spine with pleasure. I groaned and moaned. It was like sex. It was like…sex. The lights flashed and then she stopped.

  I was shaken to my core and I didn’t move. She moved. She was on top of me again, staring down at me. Face expressionless.

  “How was it?” She whispered.

  “I-I don’t know. It was great.” I mumbled blindly, almost not seeing her.

  “I’m not done with you.” She now smiled, and I finally met her eyes.

  She held my stare as I felt her, wet and warm against my dick. She didn’t insert me inside her, but she pressed her groin hard against mine, smothering me against her wet folds. The pressure was delighting, and my dick began to throb again.

  “I need this.” She moaned as she began to move against me, starting small and gently, rubbing her organ against mine. My mouth was shaped like an “O” again as the pleasure came in small gusts, building as she moved, whisking us away, cascading until I grabbed her hips and brought her down hard against me, squeezing our organs together, smothering. She had picked up the pace and was moving faster harder. The heat that had built from the grinding abrasion kept all sense and thought at bay as I found myself moving against her, warped in skin on skin pleasure. She moaned, and I groaned. She picked up the pace and I yelled. She screamed.

  I decided I had had enough. I moved in one jerk, taking her with me, turning the tables so she was pressed down into the mattress under me and I was a steamy mess gazing down at her.

  “What the fuck?” I groaned.

  “Pleasure me.” She said dryly, eyes unfocused. Her breaths came in short sharp gusts. I figured it was my turn to make her see stars. I dipped and tasted the skin of her neck, it was fragrant, it smelled like baby powder. I kissed and nibbled as my hands began to part her. She hummed lazily, stirring slightly. I placed one hand over her simmering red cave, let my thumb press down on her clit. Slowly while I kissed, my thumb worked a slow tortuous tango. She purred and arched, her nails dug into my buttocks. My body tingled in excitement, I was pleasuring her.

  I decided to turn it up a notch. I dipped my index finger into her, tentatively, like an explorer I began to test her warm folds, flexing my index as Ikissed my way up the side of her face and bit down on her ear. She gasped, and I felt her spasm under me.

  “Now, it’s my turn to make you feel things.” I grated in her ear and my tongue flexed her earlobe. She howled a throaty moan. I inserted another finger into her and began to stretch her entrance. She snapped like a chord and my free hand grabbed her hair, yanking her head back into the pillows. It was her turn to mouth an “Oh”. I watched in amusement before claiming her lips with mine, subduing her confused tongue with mine, she melded into me, trembling as I worked her down there.

  I slid down her body to those breasts. They were peaky and tempting and had been calling to me since I took over. I let go of her hair and let that hand cup her fully, kneading to feel her in my grasp while I secured the other nub between my teeth. She sucked in air and her chest swelled. Softly, I grated that bus between my teeth while rolling the other nub between my thumb and index finger. She rose, arching high like a javelin, threatening to throw me off her but I pressed her down and bit hard to warn her, she groaned. I toyed with her till I tired before retreating further down her body. She jerked her hips at me, urging me to return my attention to her forbidden fruit.

  I returned my fingers to her genitals, dipping my thumb into her.

  Her body shook but she instantly shrunk away with a groan. “Take me already!” sheblared, and a pang of incompetence sunk into me. The rage came again.

  I withdrew my fingers from her and grabbed her sharply by her hips. I reeled her back down to me, pressing her warmth against my throbbing wrath. She gasped. I leaned in, holding my penis in one hand, I guided the crimson bulb of my dick. I pressed into her warmth, hovering at the entrance but not entering. She jerked her hips against mine, groaning against my lips, urging me to take her, but I denied her and toyed at her entrance, dipping by an inch and working slow circles against her. Her body quivered and bent like she would break. Her hands kneaded my buttocks in firm grasps, pushing and forcing, trying to get me to enter her fully but I gave her no such pleasure.

  When she could take no more, she tore away from me in a frantic effort not to lose her mind.

  “Are you fucking going to take me!” She screamed. I got mad. The audacity. In one swift move, I grabbed her waist and spun her over, I came down on her hard, pressing her body into the bed. Her body stiffened in shock but before she could recover, I grabbed her neck from behind and pressed her face down into the pillow.

  “Jas—“, my name caught in her throat when I bludgeoned into her from behind. A quick hard thrust that went all the way in and jolted her still. I withdrew slightly and slammed back in. Her cry was shrill and primal, like a war cry tinged with pleasure. I picked the pace, feeling myself drift from me as her folds rippled and tensed all around me, sheathing and squeezing me as I moved. I doubled over her, thinking of nothing else but punishing this woman, enjoying the way she cracked and arched into me upon each thrust.

  We thumped and bumped hard against each other, mindless sex craved animals, until the lights flashed behind my eyes and my body went limp. I crashed onto her and she buckled under my weight.

  It was almost a full minute later before we both came to. I rolled off her and collapsed beside her.I looked down at my dick and almost didn’t recognize my organ.It had been sticky down there. I didn’t even know when I came. I turned in the bed and frowned at her. She was staring back at me.

  We were both still breathing hard and unmoving. Maybe an hour went by before she finally dragged herself upright in bed.

  “I have to go now.”

  Outside, a car pulled into our driveway and I knew it was either Finn or Dad, but most likely Finn.

  “You’re right.” I gulped.

  Story 10

  Chapter One

  The Sat-Nav barked at me to take the next left onto a wide dirt road that led through rolling Italian hills on which huge groves of lemon trees had been planted. The whole trip had taken me three days of driving, stopping at hostels along the way in Paris and then Milan. But I was finally almost there.

  Once I’d got through the traffic and border controls on the Channel Tunnel, the driving had been through beautiful country. Even passing through the dirt and smog of Naples had been offset by the magnificent heights of Vesuvius towering overhead.

  The Sat-Nav hadn’t accepted the address my Dad had given me at first. But once I had worked out the right spelling of the villa’s name it had been a straightforward journey down the winding, cliffside roads of the Amalfi coast.

  Bruce Hatchem, was a friend of my father’s, and when I had asked around about people I might be able to crash on the couch of Bruce was my dad’s first thought.

  ‘Great guy,’ my dad had said. ‘We go way back.’ All the usual cliches of middle aged man friendships. They used to be very close until Bruce had retired at thirty-five a couple of years ago to go live as a tax exile in Italy.

  I could hardly blame him. The area was gorgeous. As I
wound along the coast, the sun shone through cloudless skies and glinted off the smooth surface of the Mediterranean.

  Then when the round wound inland, up through the lemon groves, the coastal views had given way to a kind of rustic ideal. I had wanted to get away from Uni for a bit. Spread my wings, learn a little Italian, maybe meet a swarthy goat herd for a holiday fling.

  This place was perfect.

  Then I saw Bruce’s place. The road doubled back a little ways and as the ridge fell away once more to the ocean the trees opened up and I was on a gravel driveway leading to an idyllic villa with three convertible sports cars out front, Italian. Naturally.

  My car was gonna look ridiculous parked alongside those bullet shaped sharks of steel and glass. Still I parked, very carefully, so as not to put a thousand Euro dent in the blood red Maserati, and I hopped out the car.

  Bruce was waiting at the door with a big smile on his face.

  ‘Hiya, Ruth. Perfect timing, I was just firing up the barbecue.’

  I had been expecting someone my Dad’s age, but Bruce looked in his late thirties at the very oldest. There was a slight frosting of grey on the temples of his expensive haircut. He wore cotton suit trousers and a shirt, both of which looked custom tailored. He was tall and muscular, with just the beginning of a middle-age softness in the belly.

  ‘Hey,’ I said, surprised at how shy I sounded. ‘My car alright there.’

  ‘Yeah, wherever is fine. Let me give you a hand with your bags.’

  He hefted my bags with ease. Strong too, was my thought. But I dismissed that immediately.

  ‘Barbecue sounds great, but don’t go to any trouble for me.’

  ‘No trouble at all. I don’t often have guests over, but I love to host. It’ll be my pleasure to look after you for a few days.’

  We went into the house and I gasped audibly. It was huge. The atrium opened up into a living room with floor to ceiling French windows out the back which looked over a large patio area with swimming pool in it. Beyond that the garden fell away to the cliffs which plunged down into the sea.

  ‘Your room is over here,’ he said. Taking my stuff over to one of the doors which went off from this main room. ‘Settle in, take your time, I’ll get the food on the go. I got white wine on ice outside. You want anything else, kitchen’s down the hall. Feel free to raid the fridge.’

  Then he left me to unpack. The room was huge, with net curtains looking out over the lemon groves. It was dominated by a double bed with a hard wood fourposter canopy overhead. There was even an en suite bath-room with a shower and bath.

  This is how you holiday, I thought to myself and began to unpack.

  I had a shower to get the smell of the road off of me. The hot water was luxurious and the soaps he had laid out were a wonderful scent. As the water splashed over me, I found myself thinking about Bruce. Me and him alone in this building, anything could happen.

  My soapy hands idly played a little with my breasts, teasing my own nipples with slippery fingers. It felt good to imagine they were his hands, but dinner was out there cooking so I rinsed the suds off and made a mental note to finish off what I had started later that evening.

  I took longer than usual to dress. I tried a couple of tops but just wasn’t quite happy with any of them. I had brought a few dresses in case I went clubbing but I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard.

  Then I remembered the pool, and with a wicked grin pulled on the bright red one-piece. It was one of those that was more fashionable than practical with a high cut on the hips and a bit more neckline than was strictly safe if one wanted to dive head first into the water and not give the fish an eyeful when the straps pulled off the shoulder.

  I grabbed a towel and headed out to join Bruce.

  ‘Thought you’d make use of the pool while I slave away over the hot coals?’ he asked jokingly.

  ‘You did say you enjoyed being the perfect host,’ I shot back smiling broadly at him.

  I pulled my hair up into a bun so it wouldn’t get too to wet and slipped into the water. I was all made up and so was careful not let me face go below the surface but I did a little breast stroke and some backstroke which shows off my legs beautifully, then swam up to the side and trod wa-ter in the sun for a bit.

  ‘How’s the water?’ Bruce asked, flipping two massive steaks with tongs. They smelled great.

  ‘Lovely,’ I called back.

  ‘You can get down to the beach from here. There’s a slightly terrify-ing set of steps cut into the cliff. But its nicer than going to the public beaches in Sorrento. I swam past some fish nibbling a used condom the first time I went to one. So I stick to the kind of beach that is a little harder for people to get to and trash. Dinner’s up.’

  I hopped out of the water and sidled up to the table. He poured me a glass of wine and served up some fresh salad to go with the perfect steak.

  Over dinner we chatted a bit, he told me about his life settling into the Amalfi Coast, and asked about my uni course, plans, the usual small talk stuff.

  He was funny too, made me almost spit up my wine a couple of times when he landed a punchline right. It was nearly midnight, when he suggested we call it a day.

  ‘Remind me to take you out on the boat sometime before you go.’

  And off I went to sleep, thinking: He has a boat!

  Chapter Two

  The next day, Bruce drove me down to Amalfi, dropped me off to see the sights and then headed off up the coast to meet his accountant for drinks.

  ‘Who needs an accountant for their retirement?’ I asked.

  He grinned. ‘If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.’

  ‘That much.’ I raised an eyebrow.

  He waved a hand self-deprecatingly. ‘I’ve done alright by myself. Got lucky in a few business ventures. I try to make sure what I’ve got goes to-wards helping people out, the accountant runs a charitable foundation for me.’

  ‘That’s really sweet of you.’

  He looked over at me from behind the wheel of his Aston Martin, tapped the steering wheel, and said, ‘I’m not that generous, it is hardly like I am lacking for anything.’

  ‘Except a girl, maybe?’ I asked.

  He laughed. ‘Sure. For now, except a girl. But money won’t buy you love.’

  ‘But it’ll rent it by the hour.’ He laughed politely at my very old joke. I took the compliment and left it at that.

  After he’d dropped me in town I wandered about for a bit. Looked up St. Andrew’s church and wandered around. I took in the paper market and enjoyed a gelato. Then went down to the harbour and watched the boats of the rich drift in and out on the tide.

  I wondered if one of them was Bruce’s. The weather was nice and I drank a cocktail with my salad Caprese. Then I had another. An old man in a nice suit sat down with me and bought me a third and I was able to prac-tice my Italian. He was clearly an old goat, in spite of the wedding ring, but when I politely declined to join him on his boat he was a perfect gentleman and I was able to relax. So many men are assholes once they’ve bought you a drink. I hate to be rude and say no, but I also hate having to keep one eye out for who best to ask for help if he steps over the line.

  Perhaps this one was just lonely.

  Bruce picked me up in his car shortly afterwards. I was a little tipsy and over chatty as we wound our way back up the coast.

  He looked very disapproving of my drinking but said nothing.

  I wanted to go for a swim when I got back but he insisted I go to bed with some orange juice and a paracetamol. I was pretty bushed after a full day, so I took his advice in the end and hit the sack, thinking what a perfect gentleman Bruce was compared to all those married arseholes with their free drinks and their sleaze.

  In the morning he came in with bacon and scrambled eggs and some more orange juice and paracetamol.

  ‘Perfect hangover food,’ I said smiling.

  ‘About that,’ he looked stern, an expression on his face that I’d se
en on my own dad’s more than once. The kind of look that says: You are in trouble young lady.

  He took a deep breath, perhaps a little awkward because, not having any children of his own he was probably unused to telling a youngster off.

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t drink anymore while you’re here.’

  ‘Oh,’ that seemed an oddly puritanical request, after all, he was the one who’d offered me wine on the first day.

  ‘I’d hate for something to happen while you’re here,’ he continued. ‘The local men can be very… aggressive is probably the word, I guess. I have no idea how I’d explain it to your father if something did go wrong while you were here under my care.’

  ‘I really don’t think anything is likely to go wrong, just cus I have a couple of cocktails while I’m out.’

  ‘That’s as maybe. But I am going to have to put my foot down, this is my house. So while you’re here, no drinking.’

  ‘Noted,’ I said. I raised my right hand to make a Brownie’s salute and placed the other over my heart. ‘I solemnly swear, I will not get drunk again while I am under your roof.’

  He laughed. ’Excellent. I have to go into Sorrento for some supplies this morning, but I can take you out on the boat in the afternoon if you like.’ Then he mirrored my salute and added, ‘Promise.’

  Damn, I thought. He’s pretty sexy when he smiles.

  A few minutes later I heard him pull out of the gravel drive and on the the road, the sports car’s engine roaring through the gears as he pulled out onto the main road.

  I luxuriated in bed a little longer until the orange juice and parace-tamol had done their work on my mild hangover. Then I hopped out of bed and grabbed my bikini out of the bag. The weather was good, and I didn’t fancy driving today, so grabbing a bit of sun by the pool seemed an ideal plan.