‘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 seen 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.
The black of my swimsuit really showed up how pale I was. I figured that I could probably get away with a half hour or so without sunscreen, just to get the tan started and headed out for the pool.
After swimming a few lengths to clear my head I threw a towel over a lounger and lay back in the sun. The pool was freezing and my skin was covered in goose-pimples, but the sun soon dried me off as I lay there. I checked my watch and read a little of my book, an old Mills & Boon about a rakish older Doctor who seduced a young nurse.
I always imaging myself as the protagonist in stories like that, but was a little surprised to find that I was imagining Bruce as the Doctor. The sun was warm and although my bikini was drying in the heat I could feel it still clinging to me in one place as I read about Doctor Svenson’s muscular body, his throbbing member, and the gentle heat of his kisses as he kissed the nurses naked body.
I was alone in the house and looking around I could see that the pool area was well hidden from the surrounding area. With tentative fingers I pulled the cup of my bikini away from my breast, allowing the warm Mediterranean air to caress it for a moment before I started to caress it myself. I wet my fingers in my mouth and made small circles around my nipple savouring the sensations as a little shimmer of pleasure seemed to emanate from the nerves in my areola and run down my belly.
The muscles of my stomach clenched a little in anticipation.
I read on, imagining Bruce as the Doctor, his white coat open trous-ers down as he kissed me longingly on the examination table. A seagull fluttered over the hedge and landed nearby making me jump and I quickly put the book down and took my hands away from my breasts.
Stop being silly, what if someone came up from the beach or was walking along the cliffs!
Still this was Europe. The brief moment of playing with myself had empboldened me so I took my bikini top off and allowed the sun to warm my breasts. It would be nice, I thought, to avoid tan lines. I pulled the waist of the bikini bottoms up a bit, enjoying the tight way they rubbed against my still excited sex and let them fall in a new way it would at least avoid too sharp a line across my belly.
I lay back and let the sun shine down on my body.
After half an hour or so, I went in to the fridge to find something to cool me down. There was half a bottle of white wine, and not thinking that a single glass could hurt at all I poured a generous portion and topped it up with ice from the freezer.
&nbs
p; I drank thirstily, sucking a couple of ice cubes to help cool me down and plunging into the pool a few times to help. This was particularly enjoy-able. Feeling the warm prickle of sweat disappear and the sharp cold water envelope me. I would emerge, nipples hard and sensitive then read a little more not particularly pleasuring myself, but being generous with the con-tact of my hands.
After a while I turned over to ensure an even tan and in that position fell asleep with the sun shining down on me, and the top half of my bikini tossed over the back of the lounger next to me I fell asleep.
The next thing I knew I was awake and a voice was telling me, ‘You’re gonna catch the sun if you’re not careful.’
I nearly jump out of my skin. Lucky I was on my front, I thought. Or he’d have got an eyeful. It is incredible, when you are a girl how quickly you can be made to feel vulnerable. Here I was with one of my father’s friends (one who I kind of fancy) standing over me and I couldn’t turn to face him without flashing my breasts at him.
From his voice I could tell he was standing right over me, and that he was smiling at me a little. Probably having a good laugh at the embarrassment I was feeling and which I was sure he could see.
‘Oh, God,’ I said. ‘I’m so embarrassed.’
‘Don’t be.’ He laughed a reassuring laugh that suggested if there was a joke we were both in on it, he wasn’t mocking me. ‘I brought some suntan lotion out. You want me to do you?’
It took me a second to realise he was offering to put sun block on my back, and I laughed a little in relief, surprised that I also felt a little disappointment.
I still couldn’t turn to look at him but I felt his weight on the lounger by my legs and heard the squirt of cream into his hands. He started at my feet. His hands were strong and displayed no hesitation of lack of confidence. Most people worried about touching other people, especially in such a state of undress, worried about implications. Not him. There was no silliness with him only using his fingers. Instead he had a grip on my leg as he slid his hands up rubbing top and bottom with rough strong palms.
I tried not to shiver with pleasure when his hands slipped to the in-side of my thighs and slick with the sun cream massaged my skin and mus-cles. His hands came right up to my bikini line, cupping the very edge of my buttocks and brushing against the seam which guarded my cunt. I hoped he couldn’t feel that I was getting wet again.
Then his hands, thoroughly greased were rubbing oil into my back, pressing down on my muscles and easing tension out. It felt more like a massage.
‘You have great hands. You train as a masseuse,’ I said, expressing my surprised.
‘No, but thank your for the compliment.’ Clearly encouraged by my compliment he took some extra-time to massage my shoulders. Because of where he was sitting, he had to lean forwards, and I could feel his hip press against mine side-to-side. I wished it was face-to-face.
Then he was done, and just as I thought he would leave he leaned in a little closer and in much harsher voice he suddenly said, ‘Have you been drinking?’ He sounded irritated.
‘Just a glass.’
‘I said no more drinking.’
‘I thought you meant no more getting drunk. It was just one glass of wine. Watered down with a ton of ice’
‘I was very clear. I said “No more drink” and you promised.’
‘Sorry. I misunderstood.’
He sighed. ‘Look, your dad isn’t but someone has to keep you in line,’ his voice was clearly a little angry and I suddenly felt a little nervous. I still couldn’t turn to look at him without showing my tits so I just hugged myself to the lounger feeling nervous and a bit silly.
He laid a hand squarely on my arse over the warm black cloth of my swimsuit and gripping it hard he said, ‘I am going to discipling you, young lady.’
He sounded so in control, so parental and dominating all I could say was, ‘Yes, Sir.’
Then he spanked me and as the pain and disbelief shot through me all I could think was: I haven’t been spanked since I was a child.
The second slap hurt more, landing on the tender, stinging skin where the first one landed. There was a hefty weight behind it and the noise was sharp: SMACK. I let out a little whimper.
‘That really hurt,’ I said a tear forming in one of my eyes. But a voice inside me was begging for more, Sir. Please, give me some more.
He was so in control, so confident and powerful, I knew then that no matter what happened I would have to fuck him or die of desire. I wanted him so much.
The third blow hurt even more, but the shock and sting that run up my body was followed by a warm pleasurable heat that seemed to spread from where his hand landed through to my nipples which were once more erect, and to my clit which had begun to throb as blood began to fill it.
He spanked me again, the pain drew a sob from me, but now it wasn’t just me eyes that were soaking wet. I wiped some of the mascara from below my eyes and saw that despite its claims of water proofing it was smeared dark grey and watery across the back of my hands.
He spanked me for the fifth and final time then stood up. Anger flared in my stomach, he was just gonna warm me up like that and then leave me.
‘Wait,’ I demanded turning over and baring my face – a mess of smeared make up and tears – and breasts to him. ‘You haven’t finished with the lotion. ‘My front will burn.’
The scowl on his face turned back to a smile. The palm of his right hand was bright red and he squeezed some cream into it. With a gentle slap he applied a smear of it to my cheeks. Then took my face in both hands and rubbed it in.
Once my face was thoroughly covered in sun cream he pressed two fingers to my lips and he pushed his fingers in. They tasted of the salt from my skin, the bitter chemical in the oil, and a rich coconut smell from the moisturising part of the sun screen. I sucked on his fingers as he pressed them against my tongue.
When he slid them out, they were wet with saliva and smeared with my lipstick. He leaned forward and kissed me and the world fell away. His kisses like everything about him were firm and confident. His tongue en-tered my mouth without apology. There was nothing over eager nor tenta-tive about him. It was as if he was in perfect control of both me and himself.
He pulled away and squirted some more sun screen directly onto my neck and breasts. It formed a series of suggestive, stringy lines that made me laugh out loud. He smirked. ‘Laughing at me now are you?’ I might jsut have to teach you another lesson.
He pressed me back into the lounger with his hands, managing to rub the cream into my skin and pin me down in one rough move. His hands gripped by breasts firmly and his fingers pressed into my soft flesh until it hurt and then he dragged his hands across me in a near bruising sweep that hurt and pleased in equal measure.
This was a different kind of rough than I had ever expected, not animalistic but almost methodical. I felt completely at his mercy.
He kissed me again, this time from above me. I looked up into his eyes and he looked down the length of me. The sense of control seemed to crack a little.
He moved down kissing my neck, biting at it. I’m gonna be sore in the morning at this rate. There was a near bruising intensity to everything he did, for now it was exquisite, amplifying every pleasurable sensation.
His lips reached my breasts and he gently sucked my skin into his mouth kissed it and moved down. Hew worked like this around my nipple driving me crazy but refusing to give me the pleasure I wanted. He shifted so his hips were between my legs, I could see the massive bulge in his trousers when I looked down, but he held himself back so I couldn’t press my pussy against him.
Eventually he took my nipple in his mouth and scraped it gently with his teeth, so gently that I realised I was begging him to ‘Bite me, bite me, please bite me, Bruce.’
Instead he pressed his tongue flat against the hard point of my nip-ple and swept it around in a circle. The feeling was almost orgasmic, like all his teasing had turned it into second clitoris. The
pleasure radiated out from my breast warming my whole body and tightening the muscles in my groin. I was desperately humping the air trying to get some friction between my bikini and my clit so desperate was I for his pleasure.
My hands were scraping into his shoulders and as he slowly moved down away from my breasts I could see I had gouged long scraches over his shoulder blades. I was able to think to myself, Serves him right. Then he grabbed the cloth of my bikini and pulled it tight.
There was a the friction I wanted, the pleasure rushed through me and for a moment I lost all ability to think to speak. I just moaned at him and grabbed my own breasts.
‘Noisy, aren’t you?’ he muttered yanking my bikini bottoms off and then shoving them into my mouth. As the warm air hit the wetness of my cunt I realised just how soaking I was. This was reinforced by the smell and taste of pussy from the cloth in my mouth.
He then grabbed my bikini top from the lounger next door and used the strings to deftly tie my hands together behind my back.
There I was, naked, greased up, and turned on sat under the sun in his pool area. Anyone could walk by and look over the fence, see my cunt juices glittering in the sun.
Then he pulled me into a seating position with my legs off the side of the lounger. Kneeling on the concrete he pressed his face into my crotch and began to kiss my thighs.
Once again he was kissing and licking everything except the place that would satisfy me. I was wild, incoherent thoughts, sensations and words spilled out of my mouth and fired across my mind.
Then he gave me what I wanted. He covered my whole cunt with his open mouth and sucked, drawing his lips over mine until all that was lift was his tongue and lips pressed hard over my clitoral hood. He licked and sucked harder and harder in long strokes. As I felt my juices running down my leg and forming a wet patch on my towel he began to focus more and more on just my clit, pushing the hood back with his tongue and circling the sensitive nubbin of flesh.
I began to cum. My back arched and mind went blank, all I could feel was the pain of muscles tensing so hard I must have pulled something as my whole body was crushed under the pressure of an orgasm that seemed to wipe out all reality.
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