“I think my favorite spot on you is here,” I proclaim, ever so slightly brushing my lips on his opposite cheek just as he did with mine. He raises his hand to my chin, but instead of kissing me he simply holds my face still, studying me for a moment. My eyes search his, and each millisecond of our staring contest has his eyes begging to have me again. He continues to hold my face, but moves his thumb to my lip. He ever so slowly pushes his thumb down the center of my top lip, then just as slowly down the center of my bottom lip, giving it a gentle tug between his thumb and forefinger.
“I know this is my favorite part of you,” he says now, eyeing my lips after lustily fondling them. Oh, fuck me. I reach my hand in his hair, and as he wraps his arms around my body, I relinquish all self-control. He pushes his mouth onto mine, this time using his strong mouth to tug on each of my lips in between kisses. I want to explore his mouth with my tongue but he teases me, keeping his mouth closed just enough to keep it out while tugging at my begging lips. I break myself away from him, moving my mouth to his neck, tasting a tiny bead of saltiness stemming from the growing heat between us. I pause my mouth’s trail upward toward his ear and sultrily use my tongue to lap the side of his neck, landing my lips on the edge of his ear. He lets out a deep exhale, his eyes closing as I let my teeth gently scrape the skin just below his ear. He moans again into me, burying his head between my breasts, which wiggles my robe partially open. His hands reach inside and my groans begin to match his. We both quickly forget our teasing game and let our lust carry us away into a semi-sweet and salty making of love.
thirty-eight
I wake up still feeling completely exhausted, yet on a high, taking a minute to remember where I am. And who I’m with. I smile to myself, realizing how satiated I am from the overly awesome sexing last night. Sexings? Geeze, how many times was it? The bed is empty, but I know my Lust is nearby from the sound of his fuck-me-right-now accent commanding away on the phone. I lie quietly, enjoying the enunciation of his beautifully spoken Italian, but the pure sound of his voice gets my own ladyrection going. How is it possible to want to have someone again, when all I’ve done the past twelve hours is screw them every which way? I recall our lovemaking last night, how after the third session we both finally fell asleep in each other’s arms, exhausted in the best possible way. I peer at the clock, realizing it’s already 8:30 am local time, and I’m supposed to meet my coworkers in an hour for breakfast. I close my eyes, trying to work up the will to leave this warm fuckfactory of a bed to get myself in the shower. As hard as I try, that damn accent rings louder, and all I can think about is his perfect mouth. That perfect for kissing, perfect for fucking, soft, smooth and perfect-tasting mouth. It’s all I can do not to tackle him and force fuck his mouth until I come all over his face. Again. And again. And again.
“Morning, bella,” his voice is now louder, startling my face-fucking fantasy. He stands over me, his olive skin looking moist and refreshed from his shower. A towel drapes from his hips, begging me to pull it off of him. He leans over to give me a kiss on the cheek, and I feel the smoothness of his fresh shave on my hand. I breathe in as his lips linger on my cheek, relishing the refreshing oaky scent. It’s more intense than usual given its recent application.
“Morning. How did you sleep?” I ask, propping myself up on my elbows.
“Never better. I was quite exhausted, after all. Must have been the jet lag…or someone.” He gives me his signature playful wink. “So what’s on your agenda today? Capturing the Chinese market one traveler at a time?”
“Something like that.” I laugh, not wanting to think about work.
“Fantastic. That should keep you busy most of the day.”
“Oh, are you trying to get rid of me already?” I tease him.
“Never,” he says with seemingly genuine honesty. “That gives me time to get some work done before I ravage you this evening,” he says playfully, planting his lips on my neck, tugging at my skin and my loins. I don’t know how I can possibly wait an entire day without having him again. In fact, I know I can’t.
I yank the corner of his towel, disrobing him into his birthday suit, revealing his morning salute. I quickly pull him into my mouth, enveloping each inch of squeaky clean flesh. Mmm, nothing tastes better than a hard, fresh Italian sausage for breakfast. He rests his hand on my head, sliding his fingers around my cheek, and grinning ear to ear. “Oh, God. Jessa.” I watch his face twist with pleasure, and his eyes only leave mine when he closes them to process the sensation.
I make quick work of him, learning to synch the movement of my mouth with his expressions. I watch his body twinge in response, and he grasps my hair into his fist. I slide his man muscle back as deep as it can go, and he lets out an audible sigh. Repeating this a few more times is all he needs to break free. His body begins to tighten, and I peer my eyes open and see his abs clench together in synch with his jaw as he fights off my victory. “Jessa, I’m so close.” He pauses with a pleasured and pained expression. “What do you want me to do?” I pause for a moment, processing the question. At first I think he wants me to cheer him on to his grand finale, but then I realize he’s being considerate of his, um, Italian delicacy.
“It’s ok,” I mutter through a mouthful of cock, eager to taste more of him. I draw him further into my mouth, grabbing his tightening buttocks and pushing him harder against my face. I use my right hand to caress his balls, and watch him nearly lose it.
“Fuck, Jess. You’re unbeliev—” he stops, unable to speak, and I feel his salty warmth slide across my tongue and down my throat. I try not to giggle as I immediately have the thought of our oyster experience together—my first time swallowing salty objects with him. His body shakes for a few moments, and when he finally stills I pull my mouth from his body. He opens his eyes, and an overjoyed childish grin spreads across his face. He curls in his fingers and brushes stray hair from my face with an affectionate stroke. “You are quite full of surprises, bella.” He grabs the towel from the edge of the bed, and twirls on his heel, flopping onto his back and next to me on the bed. He leans toward me, pulling me close into him, allowing my head to rest on his near hairless chest. I devour the smell of his Italian soap, and can’t help but imagine the next time I’ll get to devour him like this.
thirty-nine
“Morning!” Sarah yells toward me from across the lobby. “Our driver is here. You ready to go?” I smile back at my friend, feeling obscenely tired but high on sex, and ready to conquer, or rather explore, China.
“Let’s do this thing!” I smile. “Where’s Ben?”
“Getting a coffee to go. We missed you at breakfast. I was beginning to think I’d have to drag you out of bed. But from the looks of it you had to drag yourself out,” she laughs, waving her hand to my half-assed attempt to do my hair and makeup. My mouth-fucking didn’t leave me much time for gussying myself up, so my half-wavy sex bed head is pulled back, and mascara, concealer, and blush were a quick attempt to cover my horridly tired complexion and lack of sleep. I glance at Sarah’s outfit, her standard casual jeans and a tight-fitting T-shirt, with her blonde hair pulled in a ponytail.
“Hey, Ben!” I greet him with a smile. He raises his eyebrows and gives me a hug hello while steadying his large cup of Starbucks.
“Thank God the best things about America have found their way over here,” he says, lifting his coffee up triumphantly. “You want something before we go?”
“No, thanks. I’m good,” I say cheerfully, patting my bottle of water that rests in my Longchamp. “Let’s go explore!” I exclaim, walking toward the hotel revolving door.
“How did she skip breakfast, coffee, and still have this much energy?” Ben says to Sarah.
“Good question. The Jess I know doesn’t function without a full night’s sleep. And especially without breakfast.” She pauses, thoughtfully. “Unless…” her voice trails off.
“What?” I probe her.
“Unless you’re on a sex diet,” she turns to me wi
th a questioning stare. I know she’s mainly joking, but I can see a hint of doubt in her eyes. My eyes widen, remembering the multiple orgasms that have given me the bed head and overly fucked glow. Ben laughs at her suggestion.
“Right. I bet she spent all night cheating on her boyfriend with some guy she just met here in this hotel. In the what, twelve hours we’ve been here?” he steps ahead of us to open the door, and my face falls for a minute. I haven’t thought about Jack in hours. Shit. The guilt quickly overtakes me, knowing how badly I’ve cheated on a man I still love. And not just once. Not like the “oops I was drunk and his penis fell into me” kind of cheating. More like the “I knew what I was doing each and every time he penetrated me” kind. And I really fucking liked it.
“Jess!” Sarah yells at me in a forceful whisper. Shit.
“What?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You so had sex last night.”
“No I didn’t!” I lie, also in an animated whisper, not wanting Ben to hear this conversation as we walk behind him.
“You’re such a dirty liar. And a slut apparently!” She shoves me playfully.
“After you, ladies,” Ben stops in front of our Mercedes, where our driver is waiting. I open my mouth to manipulate the truth, but I can tell from her expression that I’ve been made. I bite my tongue and feel my face redden. My friend knows me way too well for me to get out of this one.
“Where are we off to first?” I ask, quickly changing the subject. Ben peers over his shoulder from the front passenger seat.
“A Buddhist temple!” Sarah responds. Great, maybe I can find an ancient Chinese prayer to forgive my cheating?
forty
“Are you guys thirsty? I could go for a water.” Ben squints at us through the afternoon sun, his deep green eyes filled with light.
“Yeah, I’d love one,” Sarah responds quickly.
“Sure. Thanks,” I agree.
“I’ll be right back, don’t let the paparazzi take you away,” he laughs, pointing to our viewing public. Sarah and I plop down on a nearby bench inside the beautiful Zen gardens, just a few feet away from the home to centuries of Chinese royalty. The courtyard is filled primarily by Chinese tourists, and Sarah and I stick out like very blonde sore thumbs.
“I swear we’ve been photographed by like twenty people!” I laugh, turning toward Sarah. “Who knew we could be so exotic?”
“Well one of us has certainly been exotic,” she snaps back as soon as Ben is out of earshot. “You totally had sex last night. Didn’t you?” I stay silent, deciding what I should reveal. “Jess, come on. You can’t play dumb, I know you far too well.”
“Sarah, you come on. How ridiculous do you sound? So what, I fly over to China, and meet some guy in the bar to screw? You know I wouldn’t do something like that.”
“I do know that, which is what makes this even more intriguing! So spill it.” She looks over her shoulder. “And fast, before our babysitter gets back.”
“I would never screw some random foul guy from a bar.”
“Well if you don’t tell me I’ll be left to assume that.”
“Assume whatever you want. There’s nothing to tell,” I lie, not wanting to bring Sarah into my web of complexity and cheating.
“Fine. Ok. So you just happen to look like you’ve just had an all-night fuck fest when in reality you’re just jet lagged.”
I can’t help but laugh out loud at her visual, knowing that the all-night fuck fest isn’t that far from the truth.
“Yes. I never sleep well in hotels.”
She nods, seemingly buying my story. “Can I see your phone? I want to see how far away our next stop is and my battery is dying.”
“Sure,” I oblige, handing it over, and feeling grateful that she’s letting the subject go. I stare over my shoulder and see Ben posing for a picture with a group of Chinese girls, clearly enjoying his own bit of fame.
“Hey, Sarah, look behind us. Ben is totally eating up this attention!” She doesn’t even flinch with my comment. “Hey, did you hear me?”
“Oh. My. God. You’re such a whore!” she shrieks with excitement. “Who the hell is mister 212?”
“What?” I ask defensively, completely lost by her line of questioning.
“Umm, Mr. 212-538—”
Oh fuck. My heart stops, realizing she’s reading my texts with Lust.
“No one!” I cry, grabbing for my phone. She jumps backward, flailing her arms to keep me from taking it back.
“This doesn’t look like no one!
I can’t wait to see you, and have you, tonight. Xo.
She pauses, looking up at me for an explanation. “Jess, I know this isn’t Jack.”
I let out a big sigh, knowing I’m caught and there’s no point in lying to my friend. “Okay. Okay. It’s a long story, though, and it’s not what it seems.”
“Ohhh kay, so you’re not cheating on Jack with some dude while you’re halfway around the world?”
“Not exactly.” I shake my head, even though I know she’s right. “This isn’t just some guy that I met in a bar or something.” I smile a little, realizing that in fact that is exactly how this all began, in the Sofitel bar in Paris. And then again in our hotel bar last night. “It’s Max, you know, the Italian who causes me to make bad decisions?”
“Ohhh.” Her eyes widen. “It seems I have some catching up to do.”
“Yeah, it sort of came out of nowhere. After our trip to New York. This thing, or whatever it is I have with Max is recent. At least the sex part is. Last night was the first time we’ve slept together.” I finish my spiel without realizing how broadly I’m smiling.
“Ok, I have a million questions about how you got from then to now, but we’ll start with the two most important ones. Number one, how was the sex?”
I laugh at her boisterous tone, but am grateful to have someone to gush to.
“Unbelievable. He is so sexy. Like a walking sex on a stick that you just want to put in your mouth to taste.”
“Well it sounds like you did!” She laughs. “So question number two is, how the hell did he end up in China?”
Oh. Right. That small little detail of how my lusty fuck buddy ended up here. “He just surprised me. I went for a nightcap in the hotel bar, and he was there.” My smile is now contagious and Sarah’s expression mirrors mine. I take a minute to realize how incredible it is he found me there. Wait, how did he know what hotel I was staying in?
“So he just flew halfway around the world for a booty call? Wow, you must be really good, Jess. Way to go, my friend!”
“It so isn’t a booty call. I really, really like him. I mean yes, he’s ungodly hot, but every time I see him I just want more of him. Want to know more about him, talk to him more, and make more and more love to him.”
“Make love? Is that what you do with him?”
I laugh. “He’s Italian, so he says expressions like that. If anyone else said them they would be completely laughable, but with him it makes him even more intriguing.”
“So how incredible is his accent?”
“Ridiculously incredible. Why do you think I can’t keep my panties on with him?”
“Now it’s all starting to make sense.” She nods. “So, what about Jack, though? How does he fit into your love affair?”
“Ugh. I don’t know. Things haven’t been great. Truth is, Max and I were planning a getaway for Memorial Day, and I knew if I were really going to have a weekend fling, I would have to break up with Jack first. I wasn’t just planning to cheat on him. You know I’m not my mother.” I pause with this realization that in this way I am in fact her. “I think we both know it’s coming, anyway.” I try to remind myself that Jack must suspect the end is near, too.
“Are you sure he feels that way? It seems like he’s thinking of you.” She passes me back my phone, and pulled up on the screen is a recent text from Jack.
Hey baby, hope your trip is off to a good start. Call me when you can. Love you.
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What? Since when do I have sweet messages from him? I sigh with guilt-filled frustration. “This is seriously the first conversation he’s tried to initiate with me all week. I don’t get it.”
“Maybe he realizes that you guys need to work things out? I mean this isn’t some little fling with you and Jack. You live with him, Jess. And last I checked you were in love with him.”
I consider her words for a moment, still confused by his message. “I know. I still can’t believe I moved in with someone I’d only known for a few months. But things just haven’t been the same lately. I don’t know if it’s his working so much, or something else, but I’ve been questioning if we’re right together.”
“Something else like a hot Italian? That might keep you from trying hard at your relationship.”
I glance away, knowing she’s probably right.
“Look, Jess. You know I’m not here to judge you. I just don’t want you to get yourself in a mess you can’t clean up.”
“I know...I know you’re right. But Jack doesn’t get to send one ‘I miss you’ text and suddenly get to act like everything’s fine, either.”
“Well the good news is you don’t have to figure it out today. For now, you enjoy whatever it is you’re doing with Max, and you can settle everything when you get home.”
“Thanks. You’re right. For now, we have fun, and enjoy our trip!” I give her a hug, glad to have a friend who will listen without being overly motherly or judgmental. My own conscience is doing enough of that, after all.
forty-one
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