by Lena Little
I clench my fists and wipe my sweaty palms on the sides of my body.
“It’s…original,” he finally offers up.
“I have some other ones you might prefer.”
“This isn’t the only one?”
“No, I have more up in my room if you’d like to come take a—“
He grabs me by my hip, his big mitt engulfing half my body as he stiff-arms me. “What are you trying to accomplish here, piccolina?”
The sound of ‘little one’ rolling off his tongue in Italian has my own tongue-tied.
“Just…welcoming you to our home.” I pause as his eyes narrow. “You know I sleep in the room you slept in when you were an exchange student here when my grandparents owned this house.” I bat my eyes. “Maybe you’d like to see it, for old times sake. See how I decorated it.”
“I’m not interested in decorations or anything of the sort. I’m happy with my couch, and have no reason to go upstairs,” he grumbles.
“Why are you gripping me so hard, Gio?”
He looks at his hand on my waist and quickly releases it.
“This conversation is over,” he says, preparing to stand but I go for broke, jumping up on his lap and grinding myself into his very obvious erection.
“What are you doing, bellissima?” he says through gritted teeth, but his jaw isn’t clenched out of anger. His hands find my hips and he moves my body forward across his lap and then back. “This isn’t happening.”
“It is happening, Daddy. And your little piccolina loves it, amore.”
Dad exhales hard in the other room and then mumbles something incoherent in his sleep. He’s the reminder that I need, I want, to keep this fantasy at the level it’s already reached. At any moment my dad could pop up and walk in, seeing his daughter riding his best friend.
I grab the back of Gio’s head with one hand and his belt buckle with the other.
“Your daddy’s in the other room,” Gio grumbles.
“My dad, the accountant in the mismatching Hawaiian shirt and jeans breathing through his mouth, is in the other room…passed out. My daddy is underneath my wet pussy read to slide his ten inches, which are currently at the same angle and firmness as that Leaning Tower of Pisa I drew, inside my sex, filling me with his seed. Big difference.” I pause, my eyes drifting down to his midsection. “Big difference.”
“This can’t happen,” Gio says, grabbing me by the hips and lifting me as if I weigh nothing, my feet finding the floor.
“Ok then. If you don’t want this,” I say, sliding my hands up and down my torso, “then I’ll just give it to someone, or something, else.”
Gio shoots me a look of confusion at the use of my word something but understands immediately when I grab the Leaning Tower of Pisa souvenir dad’s had in the house for years.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Why don’t you keep your eyes focused here,” I say, rubbing the statue over the fabric of my minuscule cutoffs, “and find out.”
I slowly unbutton my shorts and let them fall to the ground, rubbing the souvenir against my Bambi themed panties. “There’s about to be a fire in the forest, although this forest was cleared long ago,” I say, pulling the top of my panties down to expose my freshly shaved mound.
Gio swallows hard and his fists clench. “Figlio di puttana,” he grits out the words for s.o.b., standing and wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “You can’t act this way and it’s time someone taught you a lesson.”
He grabs me by the hip yet again and roughly guides me over to the kitchen sink where he pushes my head forward and down at an angle where I can see him remove a different wooden spoon from the utensil drawer.
“We don’t let kids run wild in Italy.”
“Oh, I’m wild, daddy. Why don’t you put a saddle on me and try to tame me.”
“I’ve got your saddle right here. Ride this,” he says, and the back of the wooden spoon comes down on my ass, my cotton panties the only barrier between the kitchen utensil and my flesh.
It burns instantly, yet I can’t stop myself from sticking my bottom out, even more, grinding it into Gio’s groin. He mumbles something and then twists his body, freeing himself to bring the wooden spoon down on my backside yet again.
“Is that all you got?” I incite, even though my flesh is stinging.
“Why you little,” he spits, his lips not moving as I hear the spoon hit the floor just before his big hand makes contact with my ass.
But instead of pulling his hand away, he leaves it there, kneading my globe as the last joints on each digit curve as he digs his grip into my body.
“Are you going to cut this shit out and be good?” he asks.
“I don’t know, Daddy. I’m not sure.”
His hand raises up and he spanks me again, causing me to whimper.
“You’ll do as you’re told while we’re both under this roof. Capisce?”
“I think so, but I’m still not one hundred percent sure. I might need some more discipline,” I antagonize.
“You need a psychiatrist, bambina,” he says, spanking me in rapid succession before holding his hand on the last spank and thrusting his hips forward into my backside, my front slamming into the edge of the counter where the sink sits.
“Everything ok in there?” a voice says, and suddenly he pulls away. I turn on the faucet and take a big drink, letting the water run down my throat.
Gio takes two steps, grabs my shorts, and tosses them at me, landing right on my chest, before he walks into the other room…but not before he shoots me a look over his shoulder before he’s out of sight.
“Yeah, we were just about to do the dishes,” I hear him say as I slide into my shorts, feeling both alive and defeated at the same time. How far was Gio going to take that just now before my dad woke up?
“Dishes? Italian men don’t do dishes,” my dad half-jokingly says. “Plus you’re our guest, and tonight you’re my guest for a big night out.”
“Night out?”
“Yeah, I made reservations.”
My ears perk up and I wonder what dad’s talking about. He never goes out so it’s not like I can guess from his favorite places because his favorite place is either behind the screen of his laptop or on the couch in front of the tv.
“Yeah, we should get out of the house,” Gio says, with a knowing tone. “Leave Gabriella in peace.”
Peace is the farthest from what I’d describe my current condition right now. My nipples are still taut, my nub still throbbing, and I know my butt is red as a tomato. I can’t wait to get to the bathroom to look in the mirror and see if he left a handprint.
“Exactly. She’s going to be surrounded by boys come this time next week. That and a roommate, so it’s better to give her some alone time before the madness of college life begins.”
And that is exactly my problem. Boys. I’m not interested in boys. I want a man, a real man like Gio. And not a man like Gio, but him and only him. The only man I’ve ever wanted and the one who’s here now, finally. The one whose skin I was able to get under, and who almost put his flesh into mine. At least he might have if that had lasted another minute or two.
“Agreed,” Gio says. “She doesn’t need to be around a couple of old guys like us. This time next week she won’t even remember we exist,” he throws on top of the innuendo cake.
Before I have the chance to march into the other room and profess my feelings for him right in front of both of them I hear a door shut and know the two men are headed outback. Well, one man and my dad at least. But maybe it’s good that my dad isn’t exactly the most macho guy in the world, as it’s led me to want that kind of strict father figure type…and want it from his best friend.
But what I want right now is to know where they’re going tonight so I can come up with a plan. Surely they’ll come home drunk and I can make a play at Gio again, knowing he’ll be down here on the couch with nowhere to run, and if he’s inebriated he won’t be able to resist the ne
ed I felt from his body.
But why cut it close? Because time is of the essence here and I need to maximize every second I’ve got.
Tiptoeing upstairs I slowly crack open my dad’s bedroom door, Nancy Drewing my way through his things before my eye catches something inside his underwear drawer, the sight of his tighty whities only reaffirming he’s my dad, and not my Daddy.
Next to his underwear sits huge stacks of one dollar bills, enough that a cop could come in here and arrest him for robbing a Dollar General on sight, but the sight of what’s next to the single bills perks my interest the most. One free private dance ticket for tonight only…at the strip club.
I close my eyes and shake my head. It makes complete sense. My parent’s marriage had been passionless for some time, and with my mom out of the picture now, and bad boy Gio in town, my dad’s probably looking to explore his ‘wild side.’ Of course, his wild side probably equates to getting piss drunk before he even leaves the house and throwing up on stage before he’s been there half an hour…and then Gio babysitting him the entire night.
And that’s exactly why I’ve got to get to Gio before my dad does something that prohibits that.
My mind dreams up a few plans, but my grey matter is distracted by the thought of Gio putting his hands on another woman, or worse yet, another woman putting her hands on him. A big man, corded with muscles, who peppers in Italian words when conversing? Yeah, women aren’t going to go for that at all, I say to myself sarcastically.
But if it’s a competition for Gio’s attention and affection then I’m up for the challenge. I didn’t run the marathon to stop at the last mile. I’m in it to win it, and the prize is the man I’ve always wanted, and most surely a prize that every other woman tonight will be after as well.
But how is a young girl like me going to compete against women with big fake perfect gravity-defying moves and probably vaginal tricks that rival what I’ve heard about goes on in underground establishments in Bangkok?
Oh, Gio’s going to bang his cock all right…into me. I’m going to make sure of it.
And just like one of the oldest rules of competition says, “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”
And that’s exactly what I need to do to get my man.
3
Giovanni
Tim leans his body weight into the crossbar on the door, just under the words ‘Marroni Waste Management.’
“Ready?” he asks as I follow him through the door, my hand cupping the back of my neck as I regret this already.
Tim had told me about a small business whose books he kept, and how they needed some muscle. I figured it was going to be a bar or a club or something like that, and a few bucks in the meantime and getting me out of the house could be good for me. I sure as hell need to blow off some steam and with Gabriella driving me crazy back at the house, bouncing would be a good way to do that.
But before my foot crosses the threshold I know this isn’t the kind of muscle that Tim thinks it is. You don’t have to watch Sopranos to know Italians are experts in waste management, literally and metaphorically.
“We’re here to see Tony,” Tim beams at the receptionist.
She simply nods and shows us to a back room where an oversized, balding man who has enough crosses and medallions hanging from his neck to start his own jewelry store.
“This is the guy?” he says, looking me over with an approving smile.
“This is him,” Tim confers.
“He’s definitely big like you said and muscular.” He pauses. “Buon pomeriggio,” he greets me in an accent that’s clearly not native Italian, as he stands to shake my hand.
“Buon pomeriggio,” I return, taking his sweaty palm in mine and complete our greeting, although my mind is focused on getting out of here as soon as possible…and back to Gabriella.
“Tim, can you give us a moment,” Tony asks.
“Sure thing, Godfather,” he says, trying to act funny when he doesn’t even realize this guy could very well actually be connected.
The two of us both laugh a bit uncomfortably and Tim excuses himself.
What kind of mess did he think I wanted to get into here?
“You looking for work?” Tony begins, his wise-guy accent coming through loud and clear with Tim out of the room.
“I’m not sure I’m the right guy for the job.”
“You don’t even know the job yet,” he says, leaning forward in his chair.
“I can guess.”
He simply nods. “Okay then.”
A week ago this could have worked, well in fact. No doubt Tony needs a collections specialist, a new guy, to show up and make sure his debts are paid. But right now I feel more indebted to Gabriella and her dad and making sure I don’t drag any nefarious activities into their home. Not only that but something inside me has completely shifted today. I know that I can’t pursue this thing with Tim’s daughter, but something inside me makes me want to be a better man, to be the kind of man who could be a father, a member of the community, even if it’s not with Gabriella.
Who am I kidding? I’m lying to myself trying to twist these feelings that I’ve never had for anyone before, ever, yet I know they could only ever be directed at her and only her. I need to face the fact that I’m already obsessed with her and if I pursue her, well, there won’t even be a pursuit. I’ll pounce on her like a cheetah on the Serengeti, making her mine in all ways and protecting her with a sort of possessiveness that is just as feral, beastly, and life-threatening as life on the great plains of Africa, or anywhere where big predators roam.
She needs to go to college, be a kid, drink beer for the first time. My body freezes, thinking of some pimply-faced boy her age trying to get her drunk so he can slide a finger inside her, or worse.
“You okay?” Tony asks. “You’ve got the look of a man who could definitely do this job written all over your face.”
“Yeah, I’m okay Tony. Thanks for your time. Sorry, it didn’t work out.”
I stand, but Tony’s not ready to let this go away just yet.
“I’ve got connections,” he says, uttering the magic word to let me know just exactly what kind of person he is, not that I didn’t at first sight already.
“I don’t,” I say, trying to let him know I’m not interested in any mob activities.
“I bring you in, vouch for you, you do your time in the lower ranks you can work your way up…make more money than you know what to do with.”
Little does he know I’m already sitting on a fat stack of cash and that I’m far from desperate for work. I just want a job so I can lay low and transition back into civilian life, be a ‘normal’ guy, whatever that means…and if it’s even possible.
But normal is not in my D.N.A. It’s not how I do anything in life, including how I need to quit denying myself and pursue Gabriella’s advances.
“We need guys like you around here. Family,” he adds, throwing the Hail Mary.
“Grazie…but this isn’t the right fit for me right now.”
He reluctantly nods, handing me his business card. “In case you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
I nod, knowing he’s probably got eyes on me already at this point. Just what I don’t need, I think to myself.
“Thank you,” I say, opening my wallet and carefully placing the business card inside.
“That your kid?” he says, his finger pointing toward my wallet.
“My what?” I ask incredulously, only then recognizing the picture that’s found its way inside. It’s a senior picture of Gabriella. What the…? “Just a friend,” I say, seeing the picture for the first time. Gabriella’s in an innocent white dress, and the picture seems to be taken in a park, the green background out of focus, all attention on her and the angelic ring of late afternoon sunlight encircling her golden locks. My cock twitches in my pants at the sight of it and my jaw clenches at the fact she somehow snuck it in here and more importantly that this bastard in front of me gets
to see her like this. This should be for me and only me. Hell, I even want to gouge out the photographer’s eyes, knowing the fucker has the digital copies of this and probably pleasures himself to them hourly, just as I’d do if I could blow these up to full size on a computer screen in a place where no one could see me.
“Mighty pretty friend,” Tony adds, and I feel my hands clench my wallet tightly, and I’m tempted to wad up his business card and throw it in his face, but I don’t need to cause problems for Tim. “How old is she?”
“Enough, and this conversation is over,” I finalize, pivoting on my heel and showing myself out.
This guy wants muscle. And I’m damn near about to use the force of all of mine to put his head through that wall for looking at what’s mine.
I march back out toward the lobby and it’s in that moment that I realize I’m absolutely and completely fucking in love with Gabriella. Just as seconds ago I was thinking of pleasing myself to this picture, it’s crystal clear now that there would be no pleasure in such an act. I’m saving this load that’s threatening to crack my balls, that’s hanging over me like a thick, dark cloud ready to unload moisture, and I’m not letting it go until my cock is buried inside her and I coat her womb with my sticky seed, plastering her womb to the point where her body has no choice but to make me a baby. Our baby. Our first, of many.
“How’d it go?” Tim asks, a big smile on his face.
“You said you had something planned for tonight? Some sort of fun?”
“Yeah,” he says, following me as I walk right out the front door.
“Let’s get started now. I need a drink or I’m going to explode.”
“You didn’t get the job? You were a shoo-in.”
I want to put my shoe in my best friend’s ass for being so naive, but he’s my best friend, and his innocence is what helps balance out my lack of the same. That and it’s that same innocence that has transferred through his genes to his daughter, and for that, I’m forever grateful.
She can play the little Lolita tart game, but I can see right through it. I know she’s pure, yet I know she’s not just tempting me. She’s ready to transition from little girl to woman.