by Noelle Mack
Where the lamps had been, candelabras slowly glowed to life. The photos on the shelves of his family and friends had become portraits in oil, done by the same artists she’d seen in the museums—she recognized the style. But the colors were much fresher, as if they had just been painted yesterday and not centuries ago.
She gasped…but fell silent when she looked at Marco. His hair was longer, tied back with a ribbon in a thick queue. Somehow he looked more devastatingly handsome than ever, but in a very different way. He was still bare chested but now he wore the breeches of a long-ago Venetian gentleman, carelessly fastened at the waist, as if he had just satisfied his lust with a willing mistress.
“What’s going on? Why are you dressed like that?”
He put his hands on his hips, and gave her a cocky look. “Why not? What else should I be wearing?”
“Why did everything change?”
“You are changing too. Come with me, Sarah.” Familiar words. Where and when had he said them to her? She couldn’t remember. He stretched out his hand.
“Where are you—where are we—going?”
“We are not going anywhere. We are already there.”
Compelled to do so by an unseen force she couldn’t comprehend, Sarah took his hand and stood up next to him. She wasn’t naked anymore, not quite. She looked down at the loose gown of fine, almost transparent gauze that swathed her. Her body was still bare underneath it, her breasts almost popping out of the low, half-circle neckline and her nipples erect. She reached up a hand to touch her hair. It was longer too, much longer than his, flowing down below her waist.
“What’s this all about?” she asked, panicked. “Where are we?”
“You cast the spell that dissolves the boundaries of time,” he said with a wink. “Welcome to the eighteenth century. I got my wish. And so did you.”
“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t even say it!”
He grinned. “But you formed the syllables. It was enough.”
She grabbed the folds of the light, billowing gown so she wouldn’t trip on it and ran to the window. An immense moon hung over Venice, gilding the dark water of the canal below. She saw people in gondolas coming and going—suddenly, there were many more gondolas—and all the people were in costume.
No, not costumes, she thought with a sense of wonder. Their clothes. There was no noise of boat engines at all, no distant whine from planes overhead, nothing recognizably modern at all. The intermingled sounds of conversation, snatches of songs, and an occasional curse floated up from the canal and side streets below.
“Oh oh oh,” she breathed. “I think you’re right.” She turned away from the window to face him, surprised to see a cat on his shoulders. It too looked familiar—its chartreuse eyes glowed, and its fur was gray. Of course. It was the cat that had followed them to Morelli’s Café and waited for Marco outside, looking angrily at her. It seemed to like being on his shoulders now.
“This is Ombra,” he said, stroking the gray cat’s soft fur.
“Your familiar?” If he was a sorcerer, he had to have one.
“No. My shadow. Down you go.” He lifted the little cat with one hand and put her down on the floor, shooing her out of the room.
Marco closed the door. Then he turned to Sarah, opening his breeches and taking out his stiff cock.
Big as ever. Time travel didn’t change everything.
“Ah, what a sight,” he said. “A woman at a window, moonlight coming through her gossamer gown, her body revealed in the most beautiful way. I find that I am instantly aroused. Sweet Sarah—”
She held up a hand. “Not now. We need to get back to the real world.”
“So soon?” He continued to stroke himself and she couldn’t help looking.
“Yes,” she said, after an understandable moment of hesitation. “So where’s that book?”
Marco sighed and put his swollen cock back into his breeches, with some difficulty. “Not in this room. Not in this house.”
Sarah looked wildly around. He had to be wrong about that. “Well, where did it go? I was just holding it!”
“My dear, we are in a different century. It was published in this era but our time is yet to come. Our affair is a few hundred years in the future.”
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “That’s a problem. A very big problem.”
“On the contrary. It gives us all the time in the world to look for it…and to make love.” He came to her and enfolded her in an embrace, stroking her hair and kissing her face and neck with infinite gentleness.
She yielded. The pressure of his powerful body against hers was irresistibly sensual. One of his hands drifted down and cupped her breast, teasing the nipple.
“Ohhh…” Her lips parted and he took them with his own, kissing her rather harder than she’d expected. She got into it, enjoying the warm, exploring thrusts of his tongue—and remembering how thoroughly he’d done her pussy with it before.
He was the man she wanted…so much…and she could think of absolutely no reason to say no. The walls of the bedchamber shimmered with reflected light from the canal that rippled over the interior, as if all its details were about to change once more. Marco walked her backward to the bed they’d shared. She hung on to him and looked over her shoulder before he threw her down.
Giddy, she laughed hoping that having sex with him would keep her from thinking about where she was. Her every fantasy about Venice and its wonders had just become incredibly real. The celebrated sensuality of the fabled city seemed to permeate the air she breathed, intoxicating her. And Casanova had nothing on her very own libertine lover, who was getting harder by the second.
He lifted her and tossed her easily onto the bed. She sprawled, feeling velvet under her hands. The black-and-white blanket was gone. The bed had become a fantasy love nest, dripping with white lace and immaculate linen, covered with a puffed maroon thing that was soft, sexy, and plump.
Marco undid his breeches and stepped out of them, then flipped up her gown. He spread her legs apart, feasting his eyes on her pussy while his fingers trailed up and down the sensitive inside of her upper thighs.
He clasped her ankles and bent her legs so that her ass rose a little off the bed and put his face to her pussy, teasing her labia with his tongue again.
“Mmm,” he murmured when he lifted his head. “You are ready.”
It was true. Lying back, her pussy spread open, and her behind raised to his face, she felt shamelessly aroused. Her gown was so light that the material crumpled to nothing when it was pushed up. All Sarah wanted was to drift deeper into this odd dream of another time and place, and she knew that taking him completely within her body would make it happen.
She stretched her legs up, arching her feet, and held them by her shoulders, knowing that the position made her pussy look even more tempting and tighter. She wanted him to fuck her that way with her legs up; she craved complete penetration. “Please…” she said softly. “I want you to do it hard and deep. All the way in. Give me what I need.”
He drew in a breath and positioned himself above her on strong arms. She kept her legs up and reached down with one hand to put the head of his cock into her swollen labia.
He stayed where he was, athletic enough to hold himself up with ease while he moved his hips up and down but only by an inch each way. The head of his cock went in and out of her outer labia, which swelled, slick with arousal.
Sarah wanted to bounce her behind on the soft bed covering, catch him with her cunt, but she held still, savoring the anticipation. That first huge thrust in was going to feel fantastic. In and out. In and out. He teased her with the silky-soft, hot head.
“Like my tongue,” he murmured from above her. “You liked that so much. Your pussy needs a lot of male attention, doesn’t it?”
She had to push up a little to meet his body, but he was too quick and pulled back. Not out. Just back.
“Hold still, Sarah. You want cock, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whimpered.
He gave it to her, coming down into her pussy in one thrust that filled her totally. Oh god, he was huge and hard—she could feel the blood pulsing in the veins of his shaft, could feel the head snugged up against her core.
His big, warm balls felt wonderful against her. She couldn’t wait to feel them bumping with each inward thrust, getting harder and tighter and hotter, full of cum for her.
She liked being on her back and feeling the sensual heaviness of his body on hers. The legs-up position gave her some breathing room, and she was flexible enough to hold it for their first real fuck.
Sarah had forgotten all about everything but the man she was with. He pulled out halfway, held in the tight slickness of her labia, then thrust back in with a soft cry, again and again.
She reached around to caress the sides of his muscular ass, feeling his balls swing against her. Down and down he came, big buck that he was, and what he had between his legs would do a buck proud.
His buttocks tightened and trembled, and Sarah moaned, wanting him to fill her with a hot load. She was a few seconds away from release, and her pent-up sexual hunger made her writhe under him. She cried out as Marco’s thrusts got faster and deeper, fucked hard and loving every second of it. He came, shouting her name over and over, his whole body shuddering with pleasure.
Sarah dug her fingernails into his ass and came too, pulsing around his shaft, pushing up and pushing up to get all nine inches, coming and coming, pulsing around his shaft. He had to be that big. She had never felt so much so deep inside. The echoing sensation of a fabulous orgasm took a while to ebb away.
He eased her legs down and she cradled him in her thighs, stroking his back and his hair. The queue had come undone during their wild lovemaking, and his long black locks spilled over his shoulders, silky and warm.
“Cara mia, it never felt so good,” he whispered in her ear. “You take me to a different world…” He kissed her neck, drowsy with satisfied lust, letting her rock him a little.
Sarah came back to reality in a minute or two, looking up at the canopy that sheltered them, remembering that it hadn’t been there fifteen minutes ago. They were still spellbound, something that no longer frightened her.
Marco was real enough, and he was getting heavy. She eased his body off hers, and he murmured something in Italian, sounding very much like a satisfied man.
Sarah stretched, sensing renewed desire course through her body, which felt as if it had just awakened from a long, long sleep.
She reached a hand between her legs. Oh oh oh. She was slicker than ever and so swollen that her own fingertips made her tremble.
There was no need to rush. She had time to satisy herself again, all the time in the world. Sarah sat up slowly, not wanting to disturb Marco, and got out of the bed as stealthily as a cat.
She let the gossamer gown drift down around her body as she stood up, smoothing the crumpled folds over skin that had been sensitized by the pressure of his body on hers.
The full-length mirror set in the corner gave her a glimpse of herself, disheveled and rosy, her blond hair flowing like a river down over her shoulders and back. Sarah went to it, drawn as if by magic to her own reflection.
The mirror itself was a masterpiece of Venetian glassmaking, edged with fragile mirrored leaves. Its border had incised words in Latin. She tried to read them, tried to say them. Another spell.
She was transformed. Sarah gazed into the mirror, scarcely recognizing herself. Her features were the same, but a subtle change had taken place in her eyes. They were shadowed with the pleasure she’d experienced, and she saw a hunger for more. The mirror revealed something in her soul that she hadn’t known. In Marco’s arms, she had become a different woman somehow.
Her hand reached out almost unwillingly to touch the glass…and the mirror’s surface dissolved. As if an invisible being had taken her by the hand and drawn her through a portal, she stepped into another room.
She saw three women, naked but for the jewels that one wore. She guessed that they were courtesans of the highest rank, but there were no men.
The most beautiful of the three sat on the edge of a resplendent bed, her thighs parted boldly. Her skin was dazzlingly white all over her body, as if the sun had never touched her. Her breasts were full and round, with hot-pink nipples that stood out as if they had just been sucked, and sucked hard.
She looked directly into Sarah’s eyes.
“Come. You are one of us. In this room no pleasure is denied.” Her jeweled fingers slipped into her labia and she masturbated, her lips parting as her eyes closed.
Two of the others came to Sarah and lifted her light gown over her shoulders and off her body, smoothing her skin and combing her hair. They kept her facing the masturbating woman, whose teasing fingertips held her clitoris now.
Their caressing hands roamed over Sarah’s body, making slow circles on her belly and roaming over her behind. Her breasts they left for last.
Then they bent their heads, and feminine lips touched her nipples. The women suckled, giving all the pleasure they could to the newcomer, cupping her breasts and squeezing them at the same time.
One reached down a hand to Sarah’s pussy, touching the wet folds of flesh.
“You have been with a man,” she sighed. “We must bathe you.”
Sarah was led to a low bath on the floor and made to kneel down in it. Whatever they wanted her to do, she would do. The dream she had fallen into, from going through the mirror and into this room to be undressed, was highly erotic. She had no wish to wake up.
The bejeweled, naked woman who’d been on the bed rose and came to sit by the bath. She patted her thighs and Sarah rested her head upon them. The others poured warm, scented water over her behind and began to gently wash her most intimate flesh.
They repeated the pouring over and over, as if they knew the liquid sensation of water running over her pussy lips excited her. She was gently washed and fingered inside and out until not a drop of Marco’s semen was left in her.
“You must be very clean,” the bejeweled woman whispered. “All I want to taste is woman.” Passive but thrilled to the core with the pleasurable intimacy of being bathed so thoroughly, Sarah hid her face against the other woman’s soft thighs.
“Open her,” she directed. Sarah felt one of the girls part her labia and insert something smooth and thick between them. “Ah, I see you chose the biggest rod.”
“Yes, mistress.”
“Use it to excite her,” the woman said. “If she likes men, then she will enjoy this.”
The girl moved the unseen dildo in and out, slowly. Sarah began to writhe with pleasure, but the dominating woman who held her stilled her body with one hand.
“She does like it. Very well. Continue.”
Motionless, Sarah found the sensation even more pleasurable. Every secret fantasy she’d had of cuddling up with girlfriends at dorm room slumber parties rushed through her mind. She’d imagined being touched in the dark, just letting it happen, surrendering to the ultimate intimacy without consequences.
The woman raised Sarah’s head gently. “I want to see your eyes when you are being pleasured by a woman. Is it your first time?”
“Y-yes,” Sarah whispered.
“Look at me.”
Sarah obeyed. The dildo went in and out, penetrating her body deeply. But not as deeply as the jeweled woman’s gaze penetrated her mind. It was as if she could read Sarah’s secret fantasies, knew all about what women would do in the dark when no men were around.
The sitting woman parted her thighs very wide and Sarah looked at her closed labia. She could see a juicy sliver of flesh squeezed in the middle of the firm folds, and knew the excitement was mutual.
“You may look. But that is all.”
Still being fucked by the girl behind her, Sarah saw the second girl stand in back of her mistress and reach down to play with her beautiful breasts. She ran her hands in slow circles over them, c
upping the full flesh and ending each caress with a tug on long nipples.
Sarah suddenly wanted, desperately wanted, to suck them. The bejeweled woman seemed to know that—and she wanted it too. There was a look of need in her heavy-lidded eyes, as if watching Sarah be bathed and then take a dildo so obediently had stimulated her unbearably.
She pushed her breasts out and Sarah opened her lips to suckle, holding and fondling the softest flesh she’d ever felt, enjoying the delicate perfume that scented the other woman’s skin.
“She must not come. Put a smaller dildo into her little hole—oil it well—and withdraw the other. The big rod will give her an orgasm too soon.”
Sarah sucked harder. Whatever they wanted to do to her, she would submit. She wanted to.
Her mistress—Sarah didn’t know how else to think of her—straightened to watch the large dildo slide out of Sarah’s pussy. She took it from the girl’s hand and rested it on her breast, so Sarah could smell her own excitement.
She heard a little cork pop and realized that it had closed the bottle of oil they would use on her asshole. Sarah felt a few thick drops fall one by one on the tight puckers, while sucking her mistress’s nipples, as the girl in back of her massaged her anus with a fingertip, stretching it slightly.
“You are not permitted to finger her there,” the woman said. “She is new to this and she will prefer the smooth little rod in that sensitive place. I remember how you enjoyed it your first time.” She sighed and moved so that Sarah had to stop sucking. “That is enough. Come with me.”
A little dazed, Sarah got up, assisted by the two other women, who brought her to the bed.
“Lie face down,” the woman commanded.
Sarah obeyed, staying in the fantasy, moving to the middle of the bed to leave room for the others. The linen sheets brushed her nipples, stimulating her as she settled down. She wanted to rub while they all watched, but she did as she had been told and lay down.
The younger women spread her legs wide. Sarah tipped up her behind, knowing how round it looked when she did that.
Her mistress stroked her, running firm hands over a womanly ass she couldn’t resist. She sat by Sarah, watching as one of the girls put in the little dildo at last, pushing it in and out in the same slow rhythm she’d used on her pussy.