“I’d have knocked, but I wouldn’t have seen this,” he flirted, peeking through at my wet naked body.
“And I’d of locked the door, but then this wouldn’t have happened,” I played, arching my back slightly to highlight my curves.
He smiled crookedly, raising one side of his mouth higher than the other with his lips closed, as though he were a sly fox about to make a move. I watched through the steam as his three-piece suit dropped piece by piece onto the marble floor. Crumpled and crinkled, like the $10,000 he’d spent on it meant nothing.
Opening the glass door, he stepped into the warmth of the shower, wicking water from his deep-set eyes, running his fingers through his thick black hair. Without warning, he pushed his hard body against my wet breasts, backing me against the tiled wall, like a beast who’d been out howling at the moon.
“You’re still making me feel things,” he gushed, taking my soft pink lips into his mouth, kissing me gently in the wet spray. He lingered as he pulled away, resting hands on my hips.
“What kinds of things?”
“Besides the obvious,” he replied, rubbing his hard cock against my stomach. “You make me feel happy and tranquil, eager to live.”
I grasped my hand around his throbbing dick, “I can see… you’re very eager to live.”
“I want you to have time, we can go slow,” he offered, lifting my head with the edge of his hand, his dark eyebrows raising with concern and care.
“I don’t want to go slow,” I whispered, reaching my fingers into his thick locks, pulling him down for a kiss. “I want to feel everything right now.” I wrapped my arms up around his strong, steady shoulders, shrinking in his broad shadow.
“Once I cut the ropes, you won’t be able to stop me,” he whispered, looking down in the artificial rain.
His words made me wet, wet in a way I didn’t know I could be. I pushed down on his shoulders until his large body was seated on the bamboo bench in the corner of the shower. His cock still fleshed up in the air. Backing onto him slowly, I let his width slide in with ease as I felt a tender stretch. He wrapped his arms around my curved waist, settling into the rhythm as we moved.
“So, this bucket list thing. I can trust you, right?” he asked, in a series of grunts and sighs. “Cause, I’ve been really curious.” I dove in deeper, letting him push as far as he could inside of me, creaming around his base with exhilaration at the thought of living out my fantasies with him.
“I wouldn’t let you down,” I answered, exhaling with purpose, wanting to sound more serious than I did. Each follicle on my damp skin stood at attention as energy seize my muscles. “I want—”
“You want to what?” he asked, louder, and with more tension. Now pushing up against me from his seat.
“I want to come! I really need to come!” Each phrase spilled involuntarily from my lips as I squeezed my muscles around him, letting him move me like a rag doll, pumping my hips just right against his groin.
Leaning back into his broad chest, I let him push me down further, one last time in unabridged, loud, unformatted ecstasy. Staying still, I let his fatigue dissipate before I pulled off his drained cock. This had been more sex and emotion than I’d had in years, and I loved every moment.
“I want to see your sexy bucket list,” he reiterated, watching me rinse in the steam. “I’ll write a few too. See what trouble we can find.”
Chapter Ten
The following morning, I woke alone, rested, and hungry. The scent of fresh coffee filled the air. I threw a robe over my short blue slip and hiked towards the kitchen in search of its aroma. In the light, it was easy to tell, this was not a house. It was a castle. Long, narrow corridors stretched out, exposing room after room, all adorned in dark woods and modern, floral wallpaper. Between the doors, frames in various shapes and sizes displayed photos from multiple eras. The large chef’s kitchen looked like a magazine cover. Grand and exaggerated with restaurant-style appliances and floor to ceiling white cabinetry. Large casement windows framed in the room, all cranked open to let in the summer breeze and natural light. No sign of Matteo, but Maria was gathering breakfast on a tray.
“Buongiorno,” Maria smiled, letting her cheeks round up as she spoke. She wore a long, red apron with white flowers embroidered into the edges; her short black hair now pulled back in a low tail, “You eat, si?” She directed me towards a pink envelope lying on the white marble counter.
“Grazie,” I replied, proud of the three words I’d learned since arriving. Curiously, I tore open the envelope. Handwritten in blue ink on cardstock was a note from Matteo.
Hannah,
I’ve added three things to your list. Though there will be more, can’t wait to see yours.
Masturbate under the table at Alessio Ristorante, except I control the vibrator. Tonight - 5pm
Watch you with another guy.
Sex on a stage for all to see.
I have meetings until late this afternoon, so I’ll meet you there. A driver will pick you up at 4:30. Bring your list! -Matteo
My panties filled with excitement and my head with doubt, wondering what I’d gotten myself into. This is what I’d been waiting for, exciting sexual fantasies tangled in emotion. Though, the reality of it being tonight scared me more than a bit.
“Si?” Maria asked, startling me from my focus. Her arthritic hands, holding a bamboo tray with warm coffee and cinnamon rolls.
“Grazie.” Our attempt to speak to each other in a series of two-syllable responses seemed to be working. Taking the tray, I walked outside onto the patio. Rows of orange and lemon trees neatly lined the sides of the medieval castle. To my side, in the distance, further down the hill, a grove of olive trees, and a small flock of sheep gathering in the jade valley. I set the tray down on the ornate, iron table in the courtyard, picked up my coffee, and took a short stroll to the edge of the castle wall. Slowly sipping in the warm, crisp flavor, I took in the blue skies and yellow rays that fell peacefully on the land, highlighting the turrets and buttress in the architecture of the modernized fortress. Beyond the first valley a large barn, elegant and steepled, with a split rail fence wrapping the perimeter. Inside, horses grazing in the sunlight.
Turning to walk back to the courtyard, I noticed wild rosemary and lemongrass, the scent inviting and peaceful as I strolled. The only thing missing, Matteo. Matteo and his apparently, very naughty mind. A naughty mind that I couldn’t wait to dive deeper into.
Though having the afternoon to myself was nice, and allowed me to check on a few things I’d been planning for the gala, and see how Lyla was holding up.
Me: Hey! How is everything at the center?
Lyla: I was just thinking about you. Where are you? I stopped by Matteo’s to bring him a pie I baked, but they wouldn’t let me in. Said he wasn’t there.
That was a good question, where am I? I could be honest, say that I’d fallen head over heels, and I was now sitting in a castle overlooking an Italian horse farm. Or, I could ignore the question and talk about the center.
Me: Pie sounds so good right now! How are the cubs?
Lyla: Yeah, have you seen him?
She was playing my game, ignoring all the parts she didn’t want to address.
Me: He’s at meetings, I know that.
This was not a lie, but rather very much the truth.
Lyla: Do you have his number? Maybe I should text him.
Me: I feel weird giving out his number, I’ll let him know you want to talk.
Unsure if Matteo was at the stables, I stayed near the castle, not wanting to interrupt any important meetings. For a bit, I stretched out by the Roman-inspired pool in the courtyard, admiring the columns and rolling arches that surrounded the stone breezeway, each crack filled in with fuzzy, green moss. Tall round cypress trees framed the corners of the area. Further in, a round, stacked fountain with a turret on top, trickled water into the dark blue rectangular pool. I laid out on the lounger, scant
ly flaunting the orange and pink two-piece I’d brought, hoping Matteo would walk by and catch a glimpse. I’d never been so free with my body, able to wear so little and feel so good.
After my sit by the pool, I wandered the expansive castle. Long, dark corridors met modern furnishings with design elements similar to the 14th century. Custom-built tables meant to look like period pieces sat in every room of the fortress — the same with high back chairs, ornate trunks, and dressers. I could have spent hours wandering the halls, getting lost in the mystery and history of it all. I could have—if I weren’t so focused on getting back to change for dinner.
Heading back to the room, I jumped in the shower and slid on a short, black dress. The kind that dipped slightly in the front, only hinting at what I had to offer. Thinking about the night Matteo had planned soaked me to the core as I curled long blonde hair into beachy waves and left the room.
Downstairs, waiting promptly at 4:30 was Erik looking sharp in a black suit and tie, his pale skin reddened by the sun.
“Hello, Ms. Hanna,” he chirped, grinning ear to ear. He opened the back-seat door to the black Mercedes, helping me in, handing me a small black box with a pink ribbon and a note.
“Put this on before you come in. I have the remote, so be good. -Matteo”
Eagerly, I opened the box. Crinkling and crunching the black tissue paper as I pulled back each layer. Underneath, a silicone vibrator in the shape of a U, ready to be inserted, with a pad that laid on my clit. My heart raced with nervous excitement, unsure of what to expect. I pressed the button to raise the glass dividing the car, then pushed my lacy white thong aside and slid the vibrator in, feeling the cool silicone against my heat.
Standing in the doorway dressed in a classic gray, three-piece suit, fidgeting nervously in his pocket, Matteo. My eyes locked on his, and excitement grew. His free hand gestured upwards to brush at the stubble now growing on his chin as I awkwardly approached—clenching down on the vibrator as I walked.
“Bella,” he whispered, pulling me in closer, his lips now touching my ear, “I’ve been waiting all day for this.” We followed the server to our table, smack in the center of the restaurant. I knew he’d done this on purpose. Friday night, full house, center stage. Every bit of it was turning him on. My awkward walk, nervous face, the anxiety I had not knowing when he would turn the vibrator on, or god forbid, up.
Kindly, Matteo pulled out my chair and cozily pushed me back in as he sat across the table. Between us, a black cloth and a short, square candle. Cinderblock pillars and modern block lighting surrounded us, complemented by simple candlelight and single flowers spread throughout. The waiter, dressed in black slacks and a white button-down shirt, brought menus but spoke no English. I jumped. A small vibration bit at my nub, awakening my senses. Matteo looked directly into my eyes and smiled as he rattled off some Italian drink orders. For a moment, the sensation seemed manageable. Almost delightful. I’d begun to wonder why I hadn’t always left the house wearing a vibrator. But he wasn’t satisfied, he wanted to see me squirm. Increasing the intensity, he unleashed a wave of vibrations to run wild, directly on my clit. It was pain and pleasure all at once. Struggling to keep a straight face, I grabbed at my purse under the table writhing at the strap. He looked around, wondering if others had noticed the commotion as I began to rock back and forth, trying to find the right place for the vibes on my bump. Then, the waiter and our drinks, up close and personal. Right there. He looked over and saw my face in apparent torture, its shape contorting, tiny moans escaping. Matteo watched as the waiter looked towards me, confused. Then, all at once, stopped the vibrator.
He smiled like a vampire smelling fresh blood and cocked his head to the side, as though he were enjoying my torment, “Do you want pasta or chicken?”
“The pasta,” I croaked. The words—stuck somewhere between my throat and tongue. “The pasta sounds good.”
He rattled the order off to the waiter and looked back at me, continuing to play with his new toy. “This is the most fun I’ve ever had.”
Truthfully, it was turning me on too. The look on his face as he scanned the room as I squirmed sent me to the moon — sending chills up and down my spine. His desire had brought so much passion into the moment.
“Your list… let’s see it,” he demanded, sliding his hand across the table.
“I put three on as well, but I have more. Way more,” I responded nervously as he reached for the lined sheet and began quietly reading aloud.
“1. Girls, Girls, Girls, and I’m the master of them all, and you. 2. Sex on the beach. 3. Dominatrix. Okay, I think I can manage that… but first…” He turned up the control, sending a short, alarming jolt—then stopped before sending another, and another. I quickly learned, he liked seeing me twist and dance in my chair. He wanted to hear me beg.
“Faster!” I whispered, rolling my eyes back as I arched slightly. He continued with his rhythm, painlessly tormenting me as I put on a show. “Yes, there, please…” I begged, desperation written in my eyes.
Suddenly, he increased the speed, sending pulses of pleasure into my brain—clouding my judgment as we sat surrounded by strangers. I bounced softly on the chair, trying to find the right spot as my clit swelled under the pressure of uncertainty.
“Please, do it, turn it up. I need to come so bad,” I whispered, desperately running my fingers through silky, yellow waves. He looked at me, then to the table next to us, who’d begun to question our behavior.
“I’m so hard right now. You have no idea.” His eyes had become hazy, starkly dialed in. I pushed my bare foot between his legs to feel his bulging cock beneath the table. If I wouldn’t have been arrested, I’d have stripped him of his pants and taken him right there—riding his thickness until the floor was slippery with our come. Seeing my desperation, he turned the dial, increasing intensity.
“Oh, god!” I whined, still pulling the strap of my purse underneath the table, dreadfully trying to relieve the energy building up. Uncontrollably, my head leaned back, though I pulled it up quickly, embarrassed by the outward display.
Matteo’s eyes grew heavy with pleasure, staring, not saying a word, his face focused on a mission. He looked around the room and back at me, fidgeting with the dial to find the right spot, enjoying every moment of the journey. Like a lightning bolt, all at once, my energy released, sending shivers up my spine and into the top of my head, forcing me dizzy with pleasure.
“Bathroom, now,” he demanded, his eyes, intense and dreamy as though he were drugged. With no shame, he took me by hand and led me to a stall in the men’s bathroom. My thighs were wet and uncomfortably gluey with each stride as I followed. “That was so hot!” His breath like the dry wine we’d been sipping.
Another man walked in. His footsteps moved towards the stall next to ours. We could hear his pants unzipping. Matteo lifted my dress and pulled my panties aside, removing the vibrator, bringing with it a sticky glow. Impatiently, he pulled his gray slacks to his ankles, lifted one of my legs onto the toilet seat, and pressed inside with a groan, kissing my neck, tangling his tongue with the lobe of my ear, scraping his thickness against the saturation of my inner walls.
“Please… oh god, please…” I whispered almost inaudibly as he pushed faster. His quick movements caused the walls to creak with a distinct tempo. The man next to us cleared his throat, we looked at each other, knowing he knew what we were doing — wondering if he was pleasuring himself while he listened. The thought brought us over the edge. Matteo thrust faster, then slower, and more quickly again, until his pace built energy that split atoms in our brains. Leaving nothing left to do but convulse and let pleasure endorphins rush through our tired bodies.
“Well, that was interesting,” he whispered, as though keeping secrets from the man beside us, who still hadn’t left the stall.
Chapter Eleven
Matteo
Early the next morning, we followed the stone path from the house and wandered
towards the stables—stopping at the nearby fields to check on Zeus and Frankel.
“You know the bigger the heart, the faster they go,” I mentioned, wanting to impress her with horse knowledge.
She laughed, flipping her long-honeyed hair over her left shoulder. “Did you know that horses have the largest eyes of any land animal?”
“I did. Did you know that I can’t be next to you without wanting to touch you?” I leaned in and kissed her cheek, letting my hands follow her natural curve.
There was something different about Hannah Adams, something I’d never seen. Sure, she’d liked the private jet, but I couldn’t impress her with its exclusivity the way I could some girls. Instead, she loved wandering the streets alone, random facts about animals, and having sex in succession on a list she’d created for fun. She was a contradiction. Sweet and thoughtful. Free and uninhibited, yet shy and quick to judge. A combination that made her approachable and down to earth, though awkward and mysterious.
Continuing to wander, we soon found our way in the stables. “Who’s that?” she asked, pointing to a photo of a young couple in full western gear with a white Arabian horse to their side.
“My parents and Pegasus. They started this from inception. Pegasus was the fastest in the world for her time. She could run over eighty kilometers an hour.”
She looked back at me kindly and placed her soft hand on my arm. “They’d be so proud of you. Look at all you’ve done; all you manage to keep up. And on your own.”
I’d liked the compliments, but truthfully, I worried constantly if I was doing right by them. Worried if I’d done enough to withhold the name they’d built, the legacy they’d left. It was a beam I balanced with care, and it took its toll, leaving me up many nights in doubt—wondering if I’d trusted the right people, made the right deals.
“Enough of this! We have a trip back to pack for,” I added, changing the subject. “Besides, you owe me a kiss.” I leaned down, lifting her chin slightly to my lips—loving the way she stood on the tips of her toes to reach my height. She smelled of fresh berries and daisies from the wilds of a field I was dying to explore.
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