“Mmmm,” she moaned lightly, expressing her approval.
Lorenzo chuckled lightly, as though pleased she was enjoying herself. She felt the cover slip down a little lower, exposing the small of her back as he continued to work the muscles down her spine. His hands slipped lower and lower, teasing the top of her buttocks.
It had been a long time since a man touched her, and never with such care. His caresses were intoxicating, like a slow-burning scotch, easing away her tension and slowly lowering her inhibition. She could feel her body tingling, warming her center.
“Very good. I am going to turn you over now, Bella. Do not worry, I will look away,” he assured, gently lifting the sheet.
Emma shifted and turned her body, noting that as promised, he discreetly turned his head. As she settled her frame into the table he lightly covered her again, the sheet dangerously close to exposing her pretty pink nipples.
He reapplied the oil and quickly went back to work. His hands gently stroked her neck and shoulders, his touch light and sensual. Emma closed her eyes and focused on the pleasure his experience offered. She trembled under his caresses and her need gradually began to rise. A whimper escaped her lips as he cautiously pulled the sheet down to her waist, exposing her breasts. She sucked in her breath, anticipating his touch.
Lorenzo sighed quietly and placed his hands gently on her face. She opened her eyes and saw that he was regarding her kindly, his warm eyes the color of caramels, mesmerizing and inviting.
“Bella, I am at your service, here to bring you comfort and pleasure, but only if you say so. Do you understand what I am meaning?” he probed, his beautiful tone soft, sensual, and deliberate.
She knew exactly what he was implying. He was asking for consent.
Emma inhaled slowly, contemplating her reply. She ached to be touched, to have her passion awakened, but all of this was completely out of her comfort zone. Allowing a strange man to pleasure her was something she had always fantasized about but had never done, and this beautiful man expected nothing in return.
She wanted to know, more than anything, that she wasn’t frigid like Andrew accused, but that she was capable of responding to a man’s touch.
“Yes, I understand,” Emma replied, her voice cracking with passion.
“And this would make you happy?” he cooed, caressing her gently between her breast with a feather-light touch.
“Yes, I think it would,” she purred, her body tensing with anticipation.
“Gracias, Bella. It is my honor to bring pleasure to such a beautiful woman,” he complimented, the quaver in his voice displaying his excitement.
Emma closed her eyes, allowing all of her senses to participate in the experience. She was already damp between her thighs, her arousal twisting and pulsating in her womb. Her breath quickened as Lorenzo ran his fingertips over the swell of her breasts, gently pinching both nipples before pulling them into his mouth. The tenderness of his mouth and tongue sent a shiver down her spine. She released a deep sigh as her back arched underneath her, inviting him to fully enjoy the sweetness of her buds. He gently nipped and sucked each one, taking his time so that she could fully appreciate the stimulation.
He moaned softly, encouraging Emma to open her eyes. He looked up at her and grinned before kissing down her torso. His hands trailed down her sides, gently caressing her until they landed on her hips. He placed his mouth on the fleshy mound of her belly and kissed her seductively, his tongue tracing the divot around her belly button. She found that strangely erotic and was surprised by how stimulating it was.
“May I, bella donna?” he asked sweetly, lifting the sheet just a little, his eyes exploring her own.
“Please,” she mewed, not recognizing the sound of her voice. She knew she was feeling vulnerable but it only served to heighten the experience and fuel her desire further.
Lorenzo, let the sheet slip to the floor, exposing all her nakedness. The cool air against her freshly waxed puss was both shocking and highly erotic. She felt like an anxious virgin again, anticipating that very first touch. He ran his palm down her belly and let it slip ever so carefully over the hot flesh of her sensitive mound, gently parting her folds, exposing her clitoris.
“Guardate questa bella figa...” he murmured in Italian, his words trailing off as though he was rendered speechless.
Emma giggled nervously, wondering what he meant. He turned around and grinned at her, his eyes twinkling in the candlelight.
“What does that mean?” she purred, her body squirming under his touch.
“It means...look at this beautiful pussy,” he offered bashfully.
Emma blushed, the compliment making her feel sexy and desired, feelings she had been missing in her life for a very long time. She smiled warmly at him, certain he would never know how deeply his words moved her. And they sounded pretty fucking hot rolling off his Italian tongue.
He continued to massage her pussy, applying exquisite pressure in all the right places. Emma set aside the many inhibitions she had developed over time and inhaled deeply, choosing instead to savor the moment.
Lorenzo curled his fingers into her and fucked her expertly, his thumb stroking and teasing her clitoris, petting her strategically but adoringly. She was dripping with excitement, her body humming and twitching, answering his stimulation with responsive purrs and deep throaty breaths. Her erotic feedback encouraged him to intensify pressure and increase his arousing rhythm. She felt a delicious heat rising from her center, radiating from her womb. She was close, but something was missing. She found herself reaching and stretching for her orgasm, at least until Lorenzo spoke to her again.
“No, non tenere indietro, bella. Sentire le mie mani su di te, in te. Tu sei così bagnato, e caldo e dolce. Lasciarlo andare. Cum for me, Mimi,” he growled, his sexy words pushing her right over the edge.
She gripped the table as her stubborn orgasm surged through her, dancing up and down her spine, curling her toes. She surrendered herself completely to the pleasure and was rewarded with one of the longest, most intense climaxes she had ever experienced, her wetness erupting from deep inside, soaking the sheet beneath her.
She lay still for a moment, allowing the surge to release her.
“Mio Dio, sei Bella,” Lorenzo finally whispered.
He helped her to sit up and placed a warm sheet around her shoulders, then lightly stroked her back. Emma took a moment to get her bearings.
“If you are feeling good, I am going to leave the room so you can dress. Come out to the front when you are ready, ok Bella?” he brushed her bangs from her eyes and kissed her softly on the forehead.
She nodded at him, still in a daze. He nodded back and then showed himself out of the room.
Emma got dressed slowly, her satisfied body reflecting the emotions she felt, fulfilled and maybe a little confused, unaccustomed to such deliberate tenderness.
Although Lorenzo was nowhere to be found, Luke was waiting for her in the lobby just as she anticipated. Her inclination was to look at the floor, avoiding his questioning gaze, but she needed him to know that she was not the timid flower he thought she was. Now, more than ever, she was anxious to explore her sexuality, test her resolve.
She inhaled deeply, summoning her inner goddess, and smiled at her friend.
Luke grinned back and stood up, reaching for her hand. “Well, how was your massage, Mimi?” he asked, knowing full well what her answer would be.
“It was most relaxing, Luke, thank you for asking,” she answered modestly, her grin betraying her.
“Uh-huh,” Luke prodded, pulling her in for a hug, “and?”
“Lorenzo was very thorough, now let’s go,” she said, her courage dissipating. She turned her head back toward Lucy, “I need to pay for my, uh, treatment,” she said.
“No, no, Luke has already paid,” Lucy clucked, waving her off.
Emma looked at him thoughtfully and nodded, “I hope you tipped him well,” she stammered, a blush rising up her throat
and pinking her cheeks.
“You better believe it, girlfriend,” he assured, waving at Lucy. “Let’s go get a drink, I promise to get you home before midnight, Cinderella.”
“I have to work tomorrow,” she insisted, knowing that Luke wouldn’t consider that a good excuse, “make it eleven.”
Chapter 6
Emma never worked outside the home when she was married to Andrew, although she did spend half her days cleaning and cooking. Andrew didn’t believe in hiring help to do chores that Emma could easily do herself. He also didn’t like the idea of outsiders rummaging through his space. He was very possessive of his things. Emma didn’t mind keeping the house nice, but it was very uninspiring, and not how she had imagined her life playing out. She always wanted to be a school teacher and was well on her way to making that happen before she got married. She had pictured herself in a career surrounded by children, and she had the right personality for it too. Children were drawn to her, probably because she treated them with kindness, a whole lot of humor, and plenty of understanding, drawing out the very best in them.
Ironically, she didn’t have any kids of her own, not for lack of wanting. Andrew insisted that they hold off, claiming that he wasn’t ready to be a father. Emma had broached the subject with him for a long time, hoping that as each year passed he would eventually agree, but he never did. She’d hoped that a family would change things for them, bring them closer together, elevate her status in his eyes and in the eyes of his family. But as time went on and she became wiser, she ultimately realized that a child wouldn’t change anything for the better. If she was being honest, she was grateful it never happened because Andrew was far too self-centered to be a father, and she didn’t think his emotional abuse would have ended with her. She stopped asking when she learned of the first affair, or what she thought was the first.
Getting back into the workforce had not been an easy task for Emma. She and Andrew married right after she earned her bachelor degree and in the beginning, she liked playing housewife. She thought it was sweet that her new husband wanted to provide for her, take care of her, and she wanted to do whatever made him happy. Imagine what a rude awakening it was to discover that nothing ever made Andrew happy, no matter how hard she tried. The more disenchanted he seemed, the harder she worked to please him, to be the woman she thought he needed. It made her queasy thinking about that now, but that was her life. The few times she mentioned going back to get her teaching degree he shut her down and made her feel guilty, and she just didn’t want to fight. He would turn her words around and make false accusations to the point that she would question her motives, and her sanity. The only task he allowed her to undertake was volunteer work for his family’s various charities, and only then because she was under his mother’s watchful eye.
Putting together a resume had been a painful process. She had no work experience except scooping ice cream at Patsy’s Parlor, a job she held all through high school, and waitressing at a greasy diner through college. She hadn’t come from a wealthy family, so she needed to earn money to pay her way through school. All that changed with Andrew, and if she was being honest, she was relieved she didn’t have to worry about finances anymore. He offered to pay off her student debt as a wedding gift to her. Little did she know that was one of the things he used against her whenever she brought up the subject of going back to school or any other self-improvement project she tried to venture on. It was the gift that kept on giving, the gift with many strings attached.
She had fluffed up her resume with all her volunteer experience, but refused to use her mother-in-law as a reference. She didn’t think dear old Frances would speak kindly of her anyway. She had applied for many jobs after their separation, some of which she even felt qualified for, but very few people returned her call. Out of the thirty or forty resumes she delivered she had only been invited to three interviews and was thrilled when one of them offered her a job. It wasn’t great money, only 30 hours a week, but with her modest alimony she could pay her bills and still have enough left over for her savings account.
She was working as an assistant to Jennifer Littlewood, the Executive Director of the Seattle Center Foundation. The job was challenging and fit beautifully into her skill set. They needed someone organized, focused, and good with people and Emma was all of those things, plus she knew a lot about planning and fundraising and still had some decent connections. In spite of her in-laws’ best efforts to discredit her, there were still a lot of folks that liked and respected her.
She hit it off with Jennifer right away. She was pleased to find out that they had met once before and thankfully, Emma had made a good impression. Although they talked briefly about her personal life (and pending divorce), Jennifer was kind enough not to pry, in spite of the fact that her ex came from a rather influential family and gossip was circulating. Jennifer told her that she didn’t give a ‘rat’s ass’ (that’s exactly how she put it!) about the silly gossip and just needed someone hardworking and loyal to help make her look good. Emma assured her that she was up for the challenge. Jennifer hired her on the spot and Emma had now been there for almost five months. She loved her work and it didn’t take long for her confidence to emerge again. Jennifer told her almost every day how much she appreciated her and the feeling was mutual. It felt good to be useful, and to be earning her own way.
Arriving home from work, Emma sashayed past the doorman. He met her eyes and smiled at her flirtatiously, something he either just started doing or that Emma had just started noticing. A week had passed since her visit to ‘Loving Hands’ and she was still feeling the quiet, sensual confidence that Lorenzo had gifted her with that night, a self-assurance that made her hold her head up just a little higher. After years of being trained to keep her head down and avert her eyes, she had become somewhat oblivious and naive toward men’s mating signals. She was flattered with the attention, in spite of the fact that she had no idea how to respond.
She offered him a little wave and kept walking, until he called her back.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” he teased, causing Emma to turn back around. He was holding up a package for her, a small gift bag from Victoria’s Secret. She blushed and cleared her throat, unsure how to respond. He looked at her with a knowing grin and handed her the bag.
She smirked, deciding not to say anything, and teased the bag from his fingers. It wouldn’t do him any harm to wonder, she thought, as she turned and walked away. She sensed he was likely staring at her ass and she deliberately swung her hips, a little more playfully than usual, experimenting with her new found moxie. Of course the gift had to be from Luke, a message or clue to start off her next adventure.
Her mind drifted to the last time they were together, right after her massage. She had followed him down the street for a drink, a quiet little bar that mostly catered to neighborhood ‘regulars’ and the occasional businessman visiting Seattle who was perhaps hoping to score a little something something while away from home. It was also a place where the women offering something something came at a price. The type of bar one could imagine Billy Joel singing about in Piano Man. It didn’t matter to Emma, she enjoyed people watching and the place seemed safe enough, especially with Luke by her side.
Luke had set their drinks down and took a seat in the booth beside her. He appeared relaxed and low-key, which instantly set her at ease. She was accustomed to apologizing for her behavior but Luke never made her feel like she should be ashamed, for anything. She was still buzzing from the experience, and while she was itching to talk about it, she wasn’t sure how much to share with him. He made it clear, pretty quickly, that he wanted to know everything.
“So, did the Italian make you cum with his magic fingers?” he grinned, just as Emma was taking a sip of her gin and tonic. She choked a little on the deliciously bitter liquid, a blush rising up her chest. He was holding nothing back.
“Well...um...you could say that,” Emma smiled, lifting her drink in a toast. Luk
e laughed and clinked his beer into her glass, taking a deep swallow, his eyes reading hers.
“I don’t think I have ever seen you look so...indulged...as you did when you walked back into the waiting room. You were glowing,” he observed, proud as a peacock.
“I don’t think I have ever been so indulged. Isn’t that pathetic?” she asked, sitting back into the plush bench.
“A little bit,” he laughed, setting his beer down.
“Ok, ok,” she pouted playfully, “you didn’t have to answer that so quickly.”
“Sorry, Mimi, I’m just teasing. I’m happy for you, and proud. That took a lot of courage, so good for you,” he said sincerely.
“It was a little nerve-racking. Right up until I arrived I was feeling anxious but once the massage started it was fine. Lorenzo was very considerate and...um...soothing. I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect,” she admitted, looking around the room. There was a handsome man sitting at the bar, looking over at her, a suggestive smile playing on his face. She dropped her eyes, suddenly feeling exposed, like he somehow knew she was still commando under her dress. Luke saw the man too and snorted derisively, winking at her.
“Do you see that man?” he asked, pointing discreetly to the bar.
“Yes,” Emma said cautiously, wondering why he asked. She looked at him again, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. He was still smiling at her, but not overtly, just in a curious sort of way.
“If you wanted to, you could go home with him. He’s been eye-fucking you since we sat down,” he teased, his own eyes challenging her. Emma was intrigued, and in one of her naughty fantasies she might have done just that, but she wasn’t ready for a one night stand with a strange man. Call her a prude, or call her cautious, but she couldn’t get past the thought of being kidnapped, raped and left for dead on some dusty country backroad. Luke must have read her mind.
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