by Anna Chillon
Zoe had a complicated situation going on as well. Timoteo - Tim to his friends - had come to pick up his brother after the archery lesson and grabbed to opportunity to stop for a chat. Zoe found him funny and vivacious, things she likes in a guy, but when he asked her out she didn’t know what to say. She wanted a good looking boyfriend like Simon, but with the relaxed, cheerfulness of Tim, so in the end she went home having decided to refuse his offer.
After she left I went through my wardrobe trying to find something to wear. I chose a low-waisted miniskirt that fell nicely on my hips, and a big jumper, light enough to rest on my curves showing them off. It was dark green that looked good with my chestnut hair and brought out the green-grey of my eyes. I doubted he would’ve noticed these details, the important thing was that he found me pretty; he didn’t need to understand why.
I ate and then started to get ready. Locked in the bathroom, I used the depilatory cream just in case he got to third base. I washed, straightened my hair, painted my nails then did my makeup. Half an hour before Simon arrived I was ready and euphoric, I put a music channel on the TV in the lounge.
The doorbell rang on time. I made myself wait a few seconds before I went to open the door and when I did, the cloud of perfume that I’d covered myself in left me reeling as much as the sight of Simon. My eyes got lost on the firm smooth skin and the half un-buttoned shirt leaving his chest bare. His pecs and shoulders filled his shirt almost stretching the cotton, his hips left me guessing how tight his waist was.
As my eyes were looking up, his had fallen to my chest and legs. Maybe he was realizing that I also knew how to dress decently and show off what had been well hidden underneath pleated skirts and army trousers.
“You’re...”
“Cute?” I anticipated, with a little smile.
“Yes, very.”
“Thanks. You’re not too bad yourself.”
I pulled him inside before anyone could see him from the road.
“Will you come out with me later? I’m going to the Qube with some mates.” He wanted to go to Rome, one of the biggest and most buzzing clubs of the capital and instead of going on the pull he wanted to take me. On the other hand, thinking about it, I was his pull of the evening! Result!
I smiled at the idea of going with him and then I remembered that Vincent would have come to check that I was asleep after his dinner. However late he was, I was sure that we would’ve been even later, so I had to decline the offer with a heavy heart. I took two Budweiser out of the fridge hoping it would’ve made us a bit more at ease being alone together. Simon sat down in the lounge and got his kit out to roll a joint.
“You haven’t got anything stronger?” he asked looking at the beers.
I did have something. Half a bottle of Passito was left in the fridge after the lunch party. I poured us a glass each. He expertly slid the paper, tobacco and grass in-between his fingers. I was mesmerized by his dexterity, until he passed the joint to me while he cleared up to make sure there was no trace.
“Do you mind if I don’t smoke for now?” I asked, tucking it back into the pack of cigarettes on the table. Sooner or later I’d have to tell him that I didn’t smoke before he worked it out.
We made a toast. The taste exploded at the first sip and filled my palate, strong, sweet, a bit spicy, I could feel it warming me up.
He downed his glass and came to sit on the sofa next to me, and turned his whole body to face me. He told me a bit about his week and he made me laugh, then he asked me a few questions about mine, but it was pretty obvious that he wasn’t interested in the answers. All of a sudden he put his hand on my knee. “If you don’t want to smoke what do you want to do?”
You decide: a game of Top Trumps?
My leg felt heavy, as If I couldn’t move it any more. “Have you just come to smoke?”
“No, not at all. I’ve been thinking about you all week.” He took my hand, so I could feel how tense he was too. “Do you want to go up to your bedroom?”
“What for?” Now who was playing the fool?
He reached into his back pocket and took out a condom and put it on the coffee table. A simple explanatory gesture that paralyzed me.
I bit the corner of my lip: suddenly I wasn’t at all sure I wanted to go all the way.
“Straight away?” Escaped my lips. The guy did not waste time.
“We’ve already talked about it. Do you want to dance first?”
He got up to the sweet sounds of “Walk on the Wild side” by Lou Reed and started to move damn sexily, bending his index finger inviting me to join him.
“You’re totally mad.”And I like you sooo much.
I laughed feeling the wine and the circumstances go to my head. I had hardly danced in my life, I let him take my hand and draw me to him. We moved across the carpet bumping into the table and the tools for the fireplace knocking them on to the floor making a terrible racket, but we didn’t care.
“Hey honey, take a walk on the Wild side” Lou Reed continued singing.
While I was holding onto his shoulders letting myself be led his hand moved down onto my arse, gripping it firmly. He was tall, and smelt good. I chuckled happily into his shoulder, my heart beating so hard I was sure he could feel it as well. Leaning against him, I could feel his too and it was one of the most exciting things that had ever happened in my life.
“Please, be with me tonight” He whispered.
His cheek brushed mine, and we found ourselves staring into each other’s eyes, drunk with reciprocal desire. I closed mine and we met, finally he kissed me. It was soft, only a bit invasive, with the taste of Passito from Pantelleria. My heart beat faster and faster.
Simon pushed me onto the sofa and unbuttoned his shirt taking the words I was about to say out of my mouth. He let it slip down his arms before he took it off; he was magnificent, I absolutely needed to touch him. I had no time to take in the sculpted shape of his pecs before he came down onto me, slipping his hand underneath my shirt. He squeezed chaotically, rubbing himself all over my body, heavy and a bit clumsy.
“Wait” I tried to slow him down as I felt parts of the top yield. He expected to undress me without taking my clothes off. “Simon, wait...”
“You want me to stop?”
“No!” Absolutely not. “Only that...” I helped him as best as I could slipping my sleeves off, then I gave into his eagerness squashing my face up and squinting my eyes while he kissed my neck tickling my cheek with his thick hair. Fortunately he couldn’t see my face, because I was definitely expressing myself in a series of not very seductive facial expressions, result of my efforts to stop myself laughing or to hide my discomfort, whilst not playing down what I had finally conquered.
Here, it was no longer a pillow that I squeezed against my boobs or between my legs, but a perfect example of horny alpha male, in every way. One that I thought I could only have in my dreams. I liked the idea, and yet I felt a bit removed from the situation, despite the palpitations.
“Just let me take my top off before it breaks” I pleaded opening my eyes and refocused.
I was stunned.
Above us, leant against the back of the sofa, Vincent was looking at me with a furious expression. For a few moments I was stunned and only vaguely aware of Simon’s hand taking my breast out of the cup of my bra.
Reaching out I grabbed his hair. “Simon!”
“You just told me that you don’t want me to stop” he muttered, resisting my grip and trying to reach my nipple with his mouth.
“But I want you to. Stop right now!” Vincent used a guttural voice that sounded like a roar. The black suit that he was wearing for his dinner party made him look even older and more authoritative.
Hearing him, Simon jumped out of his skin.
“Son of a bitch!” He Leapt to his feet not caring about leaving me half naked on the sofa or about showing his erection that was easily visible pushing at his jeans. His mouth was covered in my lipstick. “What... what... what are
you doing here?”
“I’m here to send off any pricks that aren’t capable of keeping it in their trousers.” Vincent took his shirt, balled it up in his hands and punched it into Simon’s chest. “You’ve had enough fun. Get out of here.”
“I was invited” Simon argued, puffing his chest up. Sitting on the sofa, I held my shirt across my chest to cover my boobs. Vincent had ruined a moment that should have been private and he had no right. I felt the blood rush to my head. “You leave, more like” I argued getting up. “I don’t need you!”
He pointed his finger at me using a force that almost threw me backwards, without even touching me, just for show. “You and I will talk about this later.”
“Didn’t you have a dinner? You said you’d pass by afterwards, later on!”
“He said that on purpose” Simon glared at him whilst putting his shirt on.
Vincent was only a bit taller than Simon, but his nerves seemed harder, even though Simon had bigger muscles.
“Are you still here? There are tons of girls that I imagine can’t wait to open their legs for you. Do yourself a favour and keep away from this one for the next two months.”
“Or what?” Simon was agitated. I stopped him putting myself between them and placing a hand on his chest.
“I’m sorry” I said softly. “Let me talk to him. You go, you don’t need to ruin your evening too. We’ll talk about it another time, OK?”
I didn’t know how to say it better, but I needed to separate them as soon as possible for his own good and for mine. Besides I wanted the whole situation to be over immediately. “Please, it’s for the best.”
“Are you sure?”
“Surer than sure.”
He gave me a kiss on the cheek that purposefully brushed the corner of my mouth, then he picked up his cigarettes. Followed by Vincent, he reluctantly went to the door.
“Call me later.” As soon as the door closed, I tipped my head back and let my shoulders droop. I didn’t want to cry, but I was dangerously close, the only thing that stopped me from doing so was anger, stronger than disappointment.
“Are you happy now? You've ruined everything!”
“One thing I asked you, one, and it was to not invite guys over while you’re my responsibility!” Vincent screamed back toward me as he walked. It was the first time I’d seen him this angry and I was glad it hadn’t happened before because he was terrifying.
Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to send Simon away, I was thinking of him and not of myself. I curved my shoulders a bit as if I were waiting for a physical blow. “We were just kissing. Can’t I even kiss a boy now?”
He picked up the condom still sealed, abandoned on the table, clamping it in his fist. “Just kissing? And you were going to use this to play dominoes, I suppose.”
The fear I felt of him didn’t stop me from saying what I was thinking. “I'm an adult now, if I want to be with a guy, nobody can stop me.”
“Have you ever done it before? I mean full sex?”
Even my father would never have asked me such a private question. That was a subject I would never have covered with my parents; sex was kind of a taboo in our house so it was odd to talk it with a family friend.
“Yes or no?” He insisted. “Can’t you even answer?”
I don’t know if my cheeks were on fire more for anger or shame. “No, but it doesn’t mean anything... he likes me, I'm happy with him.”
“Oh yeah, you could see from your expression how much you liked it. You're young and inexperienced, Giada, a girl like you can end up in the hands of the first idiot that comes along, all muscles and no brains.”
“Simon’s not stupid.”
“Maybe not, but you can’t tell on the first date. Nor can you let him do this on the first date.” He held up the abandoned condom between two fingers. “Do you realize that you didn’t even know him until a week ago?”
“I'm not stupid either.”
“I know you're not. But you’re... you’re... Christ!” He put his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “You'll understand in time what you are,” he whispered, holding back what was going to escape his mouth and calming himself down. “Now get dressed, please.”
In fact, I had goose bumps and I was getting cold with my stomach uncovered. He didn’t take his eyes off me for a moment while I started to dress; it seemed to me that he’d decided to control every single movement in the true sense of the word.
“Your Dad should know,” he said sitting on the sofa.
I was fucked. I could see my two months of freedom going up in smoke.
“No, please,” I said, begging him on my knees, grabbing a flap of his jacket. “They won’t leave me home alone if you tell him."
He paused at the point where my fingers tightened the cloth, nodding a decisive yes. “I won’t tell him, he has the right to enjoy this farmhouse thing.”
I bit my lower lip trying to camouflage my triumphant smile.
“But you have to stop behaving like this.” He was referring to my attitude towards him, trying to corrupt him by begging on my knees.
“Can I continue to see Simon if I promise you that we won’t go all the way?” My eyes were beseeching, intent on softening him up.
“Christ...” he cursed again as if I’d made another terrible mistake. “Giada, you don’t have the faintest idea of what I can be like. I suggest you don’t give me a reason to show you. I repeat: you can’t see Simon, he won’t stop and you'll let him do it, because that’s what you’re like.”
“What am I like? Now you're exaggerating!” I left him stewing in his anger, and stood up to tower over him. “What do you know about me?”
“More than you think.” He grabbed the wrist that had been tied by the scarf that morning. It was a perfect, resolute grip, which led me with a firm twist to collapse to sit beside him without much effort, as if he had me trained.
“It might be a good idea to use your scarf to tie yourself to the radiator, it might be less boring.”
Then do it. That strange voice sounded in my head.
I moved over to my side, he on his and I ended up leaning forward against his thigh. I felt extremely aware of my bare legs on the fabric of the sofa, the heat of his thigh under my hand, and the pain in my wrist I’d already felt before. My head was spinning, I skipped a breath and my cheeks turned bright red again. I didn’t understand what had come over me.
But he did.
He smiled boldly, as if he’d found the answer he was looking for, a confirmation of his secret question.
His mobile started to ring sending me an electric shock that made me awake from my dreamy state.
“Your dinner,” I managed to say, aware of the fact that our quarrel had just vanished into nothingness, without apparent reason, turning into who knows what.
Vincent pushed me gently to my side and let my wrist go. He answered the phone saying that he couldn’t go to dinner because something had come up. In the meantime, he shook his head and picked up the bottle of Passito. He poured two fingers into the glasses on the table and when he hung up he gave me one.
“You said it was too strong for me,” I said skeptically.
“But you seem to have ignored me.” He put it in my hand. “Go on. It’s not ideal to taste it on an empty stomach but we both need it.” He savoured the first sip and then threw the rest down his throat and poured another.
He stared at me from head to toe, stopping on my made up face. “But look how you’ve made yourself up. You scrub up nicely.” He shook his head again, drinking another.
I rubbed my lips on the back of my hand to clean it off, but the lipstick was almost all over Simon's lips. A little laugh slipped from my mouth.
“What are you laughing about?” He asked.
“Nothing. It’s just that I was thinking of Simon going to meet his friends without realizing that he’s all covered in lipstick.”
He laughed, too, silently.
I took my heels off and put my bare f
eet on the couch, making myself comfortable. “You can go to your dinner, my innocence is saved this evening... unfortunately.”
He could say whatever he liked: I’d find a way to be with the guy I wanted anyway.
He took his shoes off too, stretching his legs across the table. He gave my hair a tug, so smooth after being straightened it was inviting touch. “No, you won’t get away with it that easily. For punishment you will have to put up with me all evening. Anything good in the fridge?”
We defrosted the famous pizza and ate it on the couch in front of the television. We argued for the remote control, then we ended up agreeing on a reality channel in which a guy was forced to eat nasty things.
After a while I’d stopped making stupid comments and my eyes were closing. Vincent turned off the TV and covered me with a blanket.
“Good night,” he murmured, putting my mobile phone near me on which he’d dialed his number, ready to press the green button to call. He left it beside my face and left.
Hearing the door close, the sudden thought of being alone in the house at night made me more vigilant, I opened my eyes a little and saw the light on my phone’s display. ‘Simon.’
I opened the message.
“Everything OK?”
I replied. “OK, but next time we need to be a bit smarter.”
Smarter than Vincent.
That was the new plan.
Chapter 4
On Sunday Vincent came to visit me three times, without any warning, each time finding me pouring over my books. Some of the time I really was studying, while others I was just staring at the pages fantasizing about Simon. My body wasn’t doing anything wrong, but Vincent couldn’t know what was going on in my mind.
When my parents came back at 8 pm, tired out, he told them everything was fine. He probably only did it so as not to spoil their exciting new experience, but I was grateful to him anyway.