Naughty Gras: Tales of Fat Tuesday

by Sable Jordan, Jessa Callaver, Perri Forrest, The KWEEN

  Buonarotti was a ten-minute walk to Flavio Gioia, then a straight shot across the viale. The streets opened up, darkness receding as they neared the main avenues and promenades. They took their time, and as the bottle passed easily between them, Cassie took another opportunity to appreciate the good-looking man at her side.

  The dark waves of his hair, smooth, glowing skin, his strong jaw and hard brow. His body was commanding, even in profile. More lithe than bulky. Unlike Tommaso's quick fuse and even quicker fist, Troy's was a subtler strength. Within his air of dominance lie something gentle. Something... mysterious even.

  He'd been to other festivals, he told her. Fasching in Germany, Nadur in Malta, Antigua, Denmark, Santa Cruz...

  “What are you a Carnival junkie?” Cassie had asked, interrupting his growing tabulation.

  He'd laughed, replying with a shrug. “What can I say? I follow the party.”

  She'd stopped listening after that. So, he was a wily rich boy. There were worse things, as Cassie well knew.

  Besides, she didn't have to respect him to get what she wanted.

  The smell of sea and exhaust fumes met them as the Manor came into view across the viale. White and red ribbon coiled around the streetlamps lining the front of the building. Tiny lights illumined the exterior balcony under each window, giving the building a quiet glow. And a large white flag sat atop the gold awning, an image of Burlamacco, leaping in mid-air, fluttering on the cool breeze.

  They scurried across the boulevard. His hand pressed into the center of her back, and a frisson of desire shot up Cassie's body, spurring her forward.

  A dozen or so people stood out front of the hotel. Most appeared to be tourists, though some spoke a slurred Italian among themselves.

  Taking hold of both handlebars, Troy guided Constantina through the celebrants and toward the valet station. “You wanna go wait inside while I take care of this?” he yelled over his shoulder.

  Cassie nodded, working her way through the crowds. A few of the guys whistled as she made her way toward the hotel.

  She'd just laid a trembling hand on the door when an arm darted out of the crowd and gripped her coat, sending the bottle spilling out and onto the carpeted stairs at her feet.

  Cassie tensed, turning, a pale face drawing near. “Cassandra?” Blood red eyes squinted at her. “Cassandra, questa sei tu?” The man wreaked of alcohol.

  Cassie jerked her arm, trying to break free of his hold. It was too late and too cold for this shit. “Vaffanculo, ubriacone.”

  Anger quickly filled in the uncertainty on his face at the insult. “Little slut.” He lunged at her and she flinched.

  Just then, Troy's voice broke through the background noise. “Hey!” He parted the crowd on the sidewalk, making his way to her in long strides.

  He positioned his body between the two, imposing his size on her diminutive accoster. “Is there a problem here, friend?” His face spoke no-nonsense and Cassie's body tingled, a mixture of fear and arousal quickening her pulse.

  Outside, the crowd quieted, all gathering to view the commotion.

  Troy didn't wait for an answer. He shoved the guy's shoulder, nearly propelling him backward down the stairs, then wrapped a protective arm around Cassie. “Back off, before you get hurt,” he warned in perfect Italian.

  The other man just stood there, a grimace like you'd see on a scolded child painted on his face. His body swayed as if blown on all sides by a stiff wind. If Cassie hadn't been so terrified of what would happen next, she would have been tempted to laugh.

  A heavy-set man in full costume appeared on the stairs. He placed a red-and-white-streaked hand on the drunken man's shoulder, then whispered in his ear, pushing him toward the vestibule. The disgruntled drunk glared at Troy, mumbling something as he plodded inside.

  Several others followed, trailing the men, most avoiding eye contact with the couple. Almost as if amending the shame their drunken cohort hadn't. Still, Cassie had to work hard to hold in her panic, her heart thumping in her ears. Every time a piece of their clothing brushed her arm, a hard stare grazed them, she tensed, anticipating an attack.

  When the last man passed, she let out a deep exhale. Her fingers unclenched from Troy's shirt and he gazed down at her.

  “You ok?”

  She nodded, easing from under his arm. “No problem. Thanks to you.”

  They entered the manor, stealing toward a quiet corner several feet from the concierge desk. Troy fastened her hand to his. He placed a tiny kiss onto her forehead, and though meant to calm her, it only increased Cassie's already-racing pulse.

  “Well.” Troy shrugged. “I guess a cappuccino's out.” He nodded toward where several of the crowd they'd just passed queued inside a pair of glass doors, the words “Café” stenciled in thin, red print across one side. Her one-man fan club stood front and center, his spiked hair visible among the other bouncing heads.

  Cassie smirked, leaning into him. She ran her hands up his chest, smoothing her cheek across the skin at his neck. “I'm not really in the mood anyway...” Her hands drifted down the front of his jeans, meeting at the juncture between his legs. He sucked in a sharp breath. “For coffee.”

  She tilted her face and Troy brought his mouth down onto hers with a hungry moan. Her tongue entered his mouth, and he welcomed her hungry kiss, hiking her leg around his hip. The hem of her dress bunched around her ass, and Cassie knew any passerby would receive an eyeful of white lace. But she was beyond caring; even as Troy's fingers curled between her legs, caressing her moist lips from behind. Her legs buckled, nearly collapsing beneath her and she clutched his shirt, whimpering against his mouth. She wanted him. Right then, right there. And secretly hoped her body's response would compel him to throw her down on the pristine lobby carpet and take what she could feel he wanted too.

  A sudden chorus of titters forced Cassie's eyes open. Behind them, the crew of female clerks had come to a near standstill, watching their display from behind the reservation desk. Noticing her stare, they hushed each other, some clearing their throats, others attempting to look busy as they avoided her gaze.

  She smirked. “Seems we're drawing...a bit of an audience.”

  Troy offered a half-hearted glance over his shoulder. “Fuck the audience. You have my full attention.”

  He kissed her once more, then took hold of her hand with an air of possession. Cassie trotted behind him, struggling to keep up. She glanced back at their onlookers. Most pretended not to note their retreat while others stared in open disgust.

  They could choke on their silk neck scarves for all she cared. She was going to enjoy this.

  The doors dinged open and Troy backed Cassie onto the elevator. She wrapped one arm around his neck, fighting to free the other of her coat, and he wound her legs around him. Cassie couldn't remember being this hot for any man, and when he slid his hand between them, skimming his palm against her throbbing mound, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  “Floor...press...floor?” she panted. With an abrupt jerk, he tore one of her garters and she gasped into his mouth.

  His fingers grazed the tip of her clit and her body started to quiver. Pushing aside her panties, he slipped his middle finger inside of her and a thick swell passed between them. The sensation was so powerful, Cassie's first instinct was to scream. But the fierce caress of his tongue in her mouth allowed nothing more than a subdued squeal, her fingers digging into the backs of his shoulders.

  He twisted his hand, pumping and grinding one, then two thick digits inside her hot moisture. Cassie whimpered against his neck, baring her teeth at his throat. “Oh my God,” she squeaked, every muscle in her body tensing in a synchronized quiver, awaiting the inevitable release.

  “Oh yesss, my sweet Cass,” he whispered.

  But just as she approached the precipice, Troy slowed his motions, steering her body painfully back from the edge. Cassie groaned, punctuating her rebuke with a hard nip at his neck, and he chuckled.

  “Patience,
love,” he cooed, his fingers gradually redoubling their assault.

  For what seemed like an eternity, Troy kept her there. In limbo and in the throes. Setting a torturous rhythm, letting her taste the tiny death, feeling its mind-shattering approach—his thumb toying with her clit, fingers curled tightly inside her quivering pussy—and then...nothing. Just her head left swimming and her body primed and smoldering.

  Cassie lost count at eight, her muscles exhausted from their clenching hold. She pressed her forehead to his, panting hard. “You...are a fucking...tease.”

  He kissed around her mouth, and Cassie tilted her head back, eyeing his gloating grin. He slipped his fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. “Savory.”

  He lapped at her lips, refastening her legs around his waist and walking them from the elevator out into the hall, her coat dragging along behind them.

  They were inside, her back pressed to the gold chenille before she could blink.

  Troy kissed his way down her body, only parting to help slide the black mini off her body and onto the floor. Cassie leaned back onto the bed and he traced one finger slowly down the center of her body, dipping between her breasts, his mouth following the smooth path of his caress.

  “Sooo lovely,” he whispered. Drawing his shirt up and over his head, he knelt, pressing her leg to his chest, his lust-filled gaze never leaving hers. “I only wish I had more time with you, korásion.” He spoke softly.

  Cassie’s face flushed and she chuckled to herself. What, was he going to toss her out on the street after they were done? Or did he think she was one of Viareggio's ‘Ladies of the Night,’ and couldn't afford more than one go? Cassie chuckled to herself.

  The sound of ripping fabric quickly ended all amusement and thought. Her panties in a crumpled ball at her side, her chest rose and fell, her breathing labored as Troy worked a path down her thighs.

  With one last jerk, he tilted her hips, bringing her lips to his. His hungry mouth closed around her hard nub and her fingers dug into his hair. She let out a shuddering hiss, folding into him as his thick lips drew on her throbbing nerve bed.

  He lapped hungrily at her clit, smoothing his tongue up her slit in long protracted licks. Her body undulated, quivering hard against his mouth. He grabbed hold of her hips, reinforcing her rhythm.

  “Right there. Oh please. Just like that,” Cassie pleaded.

  She came with a jerking scream, her fingers pressing into the back of his head. Her body fell back onto the bed and she heaved an amused sigh of relief. If that was the payoff for that monster tease she'd endured on the way up here, it had been more than worth it. She could swear she saw stars.

  He placed gentle kisses to her inner thigh and Cassie closed her eyes, enjoying the tender caress. How easily Troy could go from seductive to scorching. She brushed her fingers through his hair and he moaned in appreciation.

  So open in the wake of her climax, Cassie nearly launched from the bed when she felt the full length of his tongue slide inside her. She whimpered, the sensation bordering on the cusp between pleasure and pain. Cassie stared down at him in heated awe, his deep, measured thrusts making her gasp for air.

  It was then, in a quivering daze, that she noticed the second body. Cassie shook her head, blinking hard to clear her vision, and what she knew had to be a figment of her wine haze. A rhythmic rustling of material followed by what sounded like wet slurps had her leaning up on her elbows and staring down at the floor.

  Below them, pointing away from the mattress, a pair of chubby legs sprawled along the carpet. One arm lay hidden beneath Troy while, with hand of the other stroked the base of a visibly hardening cock—nearly the length of her forearm and as thick as the bed post.

  Troy's body jerked, and he uttered a long moan.

  What the hell is going on?

  Cassie pressed hard against Troy's forehead, jerking herself upward and rising onto her knees. On Troy's face, sheer pleasure. Eyes closed, lip tucked between his teeth, he stared down between his legs, grinning.

  “You always were a tricky old sprite.” He panted, his arm moving as if he were rubbing someone's head.

  A hirsute forearm slid up Troy's chest, tweaking his nipple with its fat little digits. A light brown leather cuff baring a single black note on the broad face of the bracelet was wrapped around his wrist and Cassie stifled a gasp.

  Victor! It was Victor's arm. He and Victor were screwing? No wonder the guy had been so peeved.

  Nothing like a jealous fuck buddy to crash the party.

  Cassie chuckled to herself and blew out a hard sigh, drawing Troy's gaze.

  “I am sorry about this, my love.” He gently caressed her thighs. “I did...mean f...for it to just be you and I.” He uttered a hissing groan, eyes fluttering as his head fell back, a wide grin on his face.

  “You weren't the only one,” Cassie mumbled.

  He spread his legs and pressed Victor's head deeper into his lap. “He's so skilled, my good, good boy. He leaned over Victor, wrapping his hand around his friend's rigid cock and stroking its full length. “You are, of course, welcome to join us. Though I know the two of you could find some way to...get along.”

  Cassie's eyes bulged and she heard a chuckle from below. Yeah, perhaps if she had a stopped up pipe, Victor and his dick could snake her drain. She could only wonder if the object of his desire back on the corner of Centanni had been so inclined...and if the poor girl had survived.

  Troy took the pink head of Victor's dick into his mouth. His mate moaned long and hard, gripping Troy's head, and slowly thrusting his hips.

  Annoyed and dumbfounded, Cassie couldn't bring herself to look away. No matter how taken aback she was by what she saw. This was Italy, yes—where men walked down the street, platonically holding hands, and cheek-kissed each other hello. But she was from Nevada, for Christ's sake!

  The two of them, thrusting, grinding themselves into each others' mouths and hands. It didn't just skirt past her threshold, it blew an elephant-sized hole through the door. And yet, despite her mind's indecision, Cassie's body was steadfast. Unwavering in its lust, her pussy throbbed in time with her pounding heart; her body aching to be touched.

  She chewed hard on her lip, shuddering, as her nipples hardened against her fingertips. Crawling to the edge of the bed, Cassie reached out toward the two men, dragging her fingers across Troy's back. She kissed his shoulder and he groaned in approval. She still wanted him; that fact hadn't changed.

  Maybe, if she closed her eyes, really tight—

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Cassie flinched, her eyes darting toward the door.

  “Open up,” a deep voice demanded. “I know you are in there, troietta.”

  Damn it!

  She jumped off the bed, landing hard on the soft carpet. Her first real orgasm in a year, and now was when he chose to make his grand entrance?

  Taking one last glance over her shoulder, Cassie sighed. Reluctantly grabbing the handle, she yanked open the door. “Took you long enough, jerk-off,” she said, her monotone Italian betraying her distaste.

  Tommaso pushed her aside as he entered. “And would I even have known where you were if not for Lorenzo? He saw you tonguing down some long-haired pretty boy in plain sight, you...you...”

  “'Tramp,' I know. We've already gone over that, remember...?”

  Tommaso raised his arm and Cassie cringed, backing away. Lowering his hand, he gazed up and down her naked body. She could tell he wanted to be disgusted, but his desire shone through, his eyes lingering on her nude lower half.

  He cleared his throat, adjusting the crotch of his pants. “Cover yourself, for God's sake.” He tore off his black leather jacket and tossed it in her direction. Cassie caught it with a smirk, slipping it over her shoulders. It smelled like her; her replacement, Miss Red Bottom High Heels. Like sex.

  “The damsel in distress routine was supposed to end with you dressed, whore,” he continued. “You weren't supposed to fuck him...”

 
Cassie ran her fingers through her hair. She knew all this. The agreed-upon do's and don'ts. She was the enticing face, Tommaso the brawn. But this...this had been different. She'd wanted Troy. Perhaps even liked him, a little. And didn't want this to be just another job.

  “...just to get him back to the room,” he prattled on. “What the hell got into y—?” His gaze reached the bed, and Cassie had to choke back her laughter. The color drained from his face, his expression somewhere between revulsion and confusion.

  “Ma-donna,” Tommaso whispered. He raised a shaky hand to his forehead, the gun appearing out of nowhere. He crossed himself. “What the hell sort of bull's shit...?

  “Hey! Cute couple. Basta.” He aimed the gun at Victor and Troy. “Knock off this! Right now!”

  He neared them, one small sideways step at a time, the fear in his eyes almost tangible. Victor gazed up at him, and he flinched, flexing his fingers on the gun.

  The husky man sat up abruptly, a big grin plastered across his moist lips. “Oh! More playmates?” He slung an arm across the foot of the bed, his back pressed against the mattress.

  Sticking the tip of one pudgy finger between his teeth, he gave Tommaso an appreciative once-over. “I like him.” Victor glanced back at Troy. “What do you think?”

  Tommaso swallowed hard, adjusting his stance on the carpet. “Careful. We...we don't want to hurt you if we do not have to. All we wants is the money, capito?”

  His gaze shifted over to Troy. Flicking the gun, he ordered him off the ground. “But you...” He took a step closer. “You, I just might shoot for fucking my girlfriend.”

  “As if you have the right!” Cassie stomped over to him, hands on her hips. “How's your little flabby-assed supermodel?”

  Tommaso glared at her.

  “Shut up. How about you? Taking Constantina without even asking me, little bitch thief.”

  “How about you screwing around before a job, you bastard? I come home from work to find you both passed out, naked, and you have the nerve to—”

  “I said, shut up, bitch!” He shoved her and Victor hopped up from the floor.