by Daphne Dawn
“I’m sure it’ll be amazing.” She picks up a menu, but I can’t help feeling cold inside.
I had felt more for this woman in the space of a day than anyone before. I thought I could control my feelings, keep myself in check.
But here I am, heart on the line, and I don’t even remember putting it out there. She stole it.
She disappears behind the menu, and it feels like her light has turned away from me. Why had I even imagined that a woman like her could love me?
That’s why she ran off with my brothers. She had measured us carefully while we were fucking her and obviously decided I didn’t make the cut.
She puts down the menu and smiles at me. I smile back, trying to reassure myself as she gives my arm a squeeze.
“You okay?” Her dark eyes search mine. “You look a bit lost.”
At least Marco seems to be getting the hint. I see him rise from his seat.
“Better fly my friends. Places to go people to see, you know how it is.”
And then he’s gone. Finally I can relax.
I smile at her—for real now. I have never felt this way before. She’s worth fighting for, and I’ve never gone down without one.
All I can do is keep going, show her who I am and hope that she accepts me. That I’m good enough. It’s only slightly better than not trying at all.
29
Sofia
I can’t believe how fucking gorgeous Franco is. I want to run my fingers through his thick dark hair.
Life sure is strange. One minute I’m on the racetrack, the next I’m in my sexy red strapless dress and high-heeled black shoes about to have dinner with Franco in a fancy restaurant.
He stares at me like he’s about to devour me. Who knows, maybe I look the same way? I try not to make it too obvious to him, though.
Skip the drinks, dinner, and dessert, whatever. Let’s jump to the sex.
Who needs all this shit? I might as well make it three for three, right?
I mean, this has been the most perfect day for me. I don’t get many of this kind of days very often. Usually, my days plainly suck.
But not today. Today is the most fucking perfect day ever.
It started with Antonio. We checked out a painting at the art gallery. I won’t forget that anytime soon.
I totally got the painting he showed me, the one of the faceless couple embracing and kissing in such a sensual way.
Shit, that painting made me wet. So wet, in fact, I was extremely ready for the sex I had with Antonio right there in front of the painting.
I gave him the best fucking blowjob ever. I could tell how much he liked it by the way he moaned when he came inside me.
I savored every minute of that blowjob.
And I’m sure he did, too.
I sucked his cock and got it as hard as I could. Then, I took his whole cock in my mouth while he thrust his whole body into me.
Oh, I shouldn’t forget about playing with his balls, too. Of course, an older couple almost caught us. They thought something was wrong.
That had only made the sex all the more exciting.
I felt like a damn teenager. We even giggled when we left the room.
I really didn’t think I could top off my trip to the art gallery until my time with Marco.
Marco took me to the F1 racetrack. I met a couple of the race car drivers before Marco took me for a spin in his buddy Carmine’s race car.
But the best part was the sex right there in the F1 car’s driver seat. Shit. That sex in the car was fucking amazing.
He had put my hand on his cock. I felt it start to get hard right away. He had placed his hand between my legs, and I could feel the wetness almost immediately.
I didn’t hesitate going down on him as soon as his cock was hard. I sucked on his balls, while using my hand to stroke his cock.
I had taken his cock in my mouth and kept right on playing with his balls. I couldn’t stop once I got started. I still have no idea what made me act like that.
But I enjoyed every fucking minute of today. Nothing could ever change that.
Now here I am with Franco, wondering how my day will end.
Any thoughts of my mission almost ground to a halt.
Truth be told, I’m having my doubts about what the senator told me about this mission. I’m really beginning to think he was wrong about these guys.
They aren’t as bad as the senator made them out. I hate doubting myself over stuff like this, but the senator is funding this mission so I can’t afford to piss him off.
I think back on each of the good things—besides the sex—that happened today.
Antonio supports that artist. Marco lets the payments slide for that race car driver. I see nothing bad about either one of them.
In fact, I see Marco as someone who’s trying to do better. He’s trying to change who he is and be more of an honest person.
“Are you ready for me to order dinner?” Franco asks, bringing me back to reality.
“Yes, of course,” I say. “I am pretty hungry.”
He waves the waiter over and orders for both of us.
Once the waiter has left our table, I ask Franco, “So, exactly, what do you do?”
“Besides run the escort agency, you mean?” He smiles at me.
I shake my head. “No, I mean tell me about running an escort agency. I mean…”
I pretend to search for the right words. “If you believe what’s written in paper, it’s not a very…” I hesitate.
“You should never believe everything you read in the paper,” he interrupts, and his smile tugs at my insides.
I’m almost sorry I’ve opened this can of worms.
“I guess, I still can’t see how you can run that sort of business without being, you know, ruthless.”
“Our business is different,” he says, and our eyes lock.
“In what way?” I ask.
I didn’t know an escort business could be good and clean. Now he’s got my full attention.
“For starters, I don’t allow anyone to work for me who doesn’t want to,” Franco begins. “You know how some escort companies force their girls to do things they don’t want to?”
“Like what?”
“Like work their asses off and not pay them. Like subject them to men who don’t treat them with respect. Those types of things.”
I nod my head in understanding. The nagging doubt from earlier intensifies.
“I’m not like that. The men I allow my girls to escort respect them, and I pay my girls what they’re worth.”
I nod again.
“In fact, I pay my girls’ health insurance and make sure they’re looked after.” He folds his hands on the table.
“That’s great,” I mumble and feel awfully small. “Sounds like you care about them.”
“I do. Without them, I wouldn’t have a business, right?” Franco grins at me.
“Of course.” I return the smile.
“I could take you to visit one of our establishments if you like. You could even meet the girls. I bet they would love to meet someone like you.”
I’m so mesmerized by Franco’s voice that I find myself lost and staring into those amazing eyes of his for a moment or two. Finally, I find my voice.
“I would love to visit one of your brothels. How about tomorrow?”
The sooner the better, with the senator busting to hear from me.
30
Franco
Our table is at the fucking far end of the restaurant. It sits to the left and is out of the way of all other tables.
It’s not a busy night, and there are no other diners within our vicinity.
The flame flickering on our table catches her eyes.
My heart is beating a little faster as I get lost in them. It’s like floating in molten chocolate.
This is one fucking amazing sex goddess.
I change my seat. Instead of sitting across from her, I slide in beside her. Slowly I inch closer and let my hand glid
e under the table where I find her thigh.
Gently, lightly, and feather-like, I caress her inner leg.
It’s easy to draw tiny circles onto her stocking-covered skin. If I could, I’ll rip them off her. But that might attract unwanted attention.
The tomato she just bit into has juice spraying in every direction. A bit dribbles down her chin. I lean forward and lick it off.
Our eyes meet.
I can tell we’re on the same wavelength.
There’s a bit of a badass girl there, waiting to be let out. And I let her. I want to see what she’s got.
Is she a V-8 girl, or will she fizzle out into something much less exciting?
“I think I’ll just go to the little girls’ room,” she whispers and gives me a wicked smile.
Her eyes are smoldering. I’m already breathing a little harder, fuelled by pure fucking anticipation.
I watch her sashay as she walks away from the table.
When the waiter approaches and asks me something, I look at him blankly.
“Is everything to your liking, Mr. Monatello?” he repeats, looking a little nervous.
It really is a fucking shame how people treat us as if we walk around carrying machine guns under our jackets.
Truth of the matter is, I don’t even know how to operate a gun. Sure, Dad tried to teach us, but I skipped most of those lessons. And the first changes we made to the family home was to get rid of the internal private underground shooting range.
“Perfect,” I say in the nicest way possible.
This seems to have the opposite effect. It’s as if I’ve struck the poor man with a cattle prod and run about a million volts of electric currents through him.
“Perhaps you could bring us two Manhattans, please,” I say hoping this will make him go away and help his tension dissipate.
He scurries away and nearly collides with Sofia who comes back minus her stockings.
Clever fucking girl.
The second she sits next to me, my fingers go under her dress again. Instantly, I feel her wetness.
I knew we were on the same wavelength.
Before the nervous waiter returns, my finger is already playing with her clit. Instead of rubbing, I simply push against it.
The soft ‘Oh’ that escapes her lips are enough for my cock to push against my tight pants.
Her eyes dart nervously around the room.
“It’s okay,” I murmur into her ear and kiss her lightly just below her lobe. She shivers at my touch. “I’ve ordered a drink and when it comes I’ll ask for some privacy.”
Her lips curl up a tiny bit at the corner, and she looks at me.
“You think that will work?”
I nod. “You’d be surprised how much fucking power our surname carries with it.”
Understanding crosses her face.
Her grin widens.
It’s a different waiter that brings our Manhattan.
“These are on the house, Mr. Monatello,” he tells us as he puts them down in front of us. “Is there anything else?”
I’m not entirely sure what the fuck is going on, but I cease the moment.
“Just some privacy,” I say and look him straight in the eyes.
He nods and leaves.
The second his back is turned, my finger leaves the warmth of her clit and pushes slowly into her hot wet pussy.
I watch as her fingers reach for the drink. She brings it to her mouth, takes a sip, and then offers me the glass before putting it back.
The gesture is loaded with sexual tension. I take a sip and savor it.
“It’s not bad for a start,” Sofia murmurs and looks me straight in the eye. “There’s something I’d much rather be drinking right now, though.”
Her words are like a vice grip around my cock.
She’s able to caress and tease without even touching me.
“Oh, Sofia,” I groan and push my finger deeper into her.
“Will this help ease your discomfort?”
A gentle pressure on my crotch sends tiny electric shock waves through me. I glance around.
No one is watching our table.
Instead of an answer, I start pulling my finger out and pushing it back in again. Her body responds. I can feel her hips buck back and forth, in rhythm with my finger.
Her eyes get that far-away look in them, and the walls of her pussy are grabbing me as if they don’t want to let go.
Faster and faster, I finger fuck her until her hand grabs tightly around my crotch, and I know she’s coming hard and fast. My cock pushes against the flimsy material of my pants and her hand.
It’s almost as if I’m going to shoot a massive load into my boxers. Seems a fucking waste.
Sofia’s breathing is fast and shallow.
When she’s finished riding her wave of orgasm, she smiles and leans toward me.
Our mouths meet. It’s a kiss that starts slow and gentle and quickly turns into something else.
We nearly devour each other in a moment of intense passion.
Time slows right down as we both get lost in this kiss. It goes on forever. I don’t want this moment to end.
31
Sofia
I’m so hot, I need to fuck him right here, right now.
Common fucking sense has gone out the window. My brain has taken a leave of absence and left my lust in charge.
My pussy needs some cock, and I’m going to get some.
A dense fog pushes all thoughts of the mission, getting the dirt on these guys, and the senator far, far into the background.
Mission.
What mission?
The mission I may have agreed to join too hastily.
When the kiss finally ends, I rest my forehead against his and revel in this moment. For the first time ever, I feel a deep connection to a man. It’s amazing and unreal at the same time.
I don’t want to keep being the person I’ve become.
“How about some dessert?” My voice is barely more than a whisper.
Franco nods. “Ice cream?”
I had something else in mind, but okay, I can work with that.
Franco leaves me for what feels like hours, but in reality was only for a few minutes. He returns with two tall glasses.
My eyes widen as I take in the gelato served in them.
When he sits next to me again, I pick up the spoon and scoop some of the ice cream.
It melts in my mouth, and I close my eyes.
This is the best fucking ice cream I’ve ever tasted.
“Not bad.” I turn to him. “But I still need something else.”
There’s a crease in his brow as Franco tries to work out what I want.
“Espresso?”
With a little laugh, I shake my head.
“Something much bolder and more satisfying,” I murmur and put my spoon down.
I glance around.
And then, I glide onto Franco’s lap and straddle him. As I get into position, I push my dress up a little.
The change in his expression confirms he knows what I’m after.
His hands grab my hips and pull me toward him. I feel his fingers slide into the waistband of my slip. There they stay for the briefest of seconds before he tugs and pulls and the elastic snaps.
With victory in his eyes, he pulls the flimsy bit of material out from under me. To my surprise, he scrunches it up and brings it to his face.
He holds it to his nose and inhales deeply.
“My, my, we’re horny tonight, aren’t we,” he murmurs before letting the slip disappear into his pocket.
At the same time, my fingers fumble to free his massive cock. I can feel it push toward me, begging me to let it out, straining, like a guard dog at its chain.
“Slowly, Signora Sofia.” Franco leans toward me and grabs my shaking hands. “Slowly.”
When I finally manage to free his cock, it stands straight up in the air. I glance at it and feel my insides tingle with anticipation.
I close my eyes as his thick cock pushes my tight pussy apart.
Once he’s all the way inside me, I stay where I am. I reach behind and grab the gelato from the table together with the spoon.
His cock is pulsing and my pussy’s agitating for more than just to have him resting inside me.
My right hand scoops some vanilla ice cream and brings it to his lips. I watch him open his mouth, and his tongue comes out to taste the waiting sensation.
He closes his eyes and swallows.
Now, I have a spoonful myself. As the cold dances across my tongue and slides down my throat, fireworks start to explode inside me.
Before I know what’s happening, Franco takes over. His hands wrap around my hips and start to lift me before letting me come down again.
He’s making me ride him. He needs to fuck me like I need to fuck him.
His testosterone and my horny hormones are connecting and bouncing between us like isotopes in a nuclear reactor.
Faster and faster, he moves me up and down as I spoon-feed him ice cream. One for him, one for me.
By the time the bowl is empty, I’m ready to come.
The walls of my pussy are contracting, milking his cock. The way his fingers are digging into me and the look in his eyes tell me it won’t be long before he shoots his load into me.
By now, my insides are erupting like an angry volcano, and hot molten lava spreads through me, mixing with the coolness of the ice cream.
I look around one last time before I put my forehead against his and surrender to the moment. Vice-like, my pussy grabs onto his massive cock as he starts shooting his cum into me. His body quivers and shakes, and his grip around me tightens.
Just then, I feel myself come.
My body shudders and my own fingernails dig into his back. At the same time, I move my face downward and bite his shoulder.
“Mama mia!” he growls, and I feel his aftershock.
When we’re both done, I stay where I am. His cock is still inside me.