“Yeah, and if I remember correctly, it can also be manually inflated by mouth.”
Thoughts of her enticing innuendo swirled through my head as I swept my gaze upward over her tan legs and full breasts, before settling upon her angelic face. Sweet mother of God was she attractive, and it certainly didn’t hurt that the chilly air was whipping up her nipples into two very formidable and delectable looking treats. She noticed my undivided attention and smiled self-consciously before taking another drink of rum and slipping back into the water. Rather than sit on the other side she moved across the Jacuzzi and placed her hands on my thighs as she slid between my legs—the move bringing her lips to hover only inches from my own.
“Just so you know, I’m a little nervous,” she said.
“It’s OK, I’m nervous too. I’ve never been immersed in hot water with a half French, half Italian girl before.”
“You’ll do fine as long as you take care of both halves.”
We hovered there awkwardly looking at each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Her heart was now visibly pounding in her chest, her breasts rising and falling with each breath as she stared nervously into my eyes.
“I really want to kiss you right now, but I feel like it’s my first time all over again.”
“Don’t worry. We can take it slow.”
I moved in and kissed the right side of her neck then slid up and kissed her ear, goosebumps forming on the surrounding skin. I moved left and kissed the other side of her neck then pulled back to find her smiling.
“Oh, how I’ve missed this,” she said.
This time, she came forward and kissed me straight on the lips, lingering only a split second before both of us opened our mouths and touched tongues. She tasted of sweet rum and every second of contact was adding ever more heat to our burning desire. I reached my arms around her back and pulled her body into mine, inadvertently pressing Tag Junior firmly against her lady fruit. She let out a soft moan then began to slowly grind her hips against mine, every passing second pushing us farther into the mindless abyss of lustful abandon. We continued to kiss and make out like a couple of sex crazed teenagers, and it inspired me to run my hands up her body and take hold of her breasts, where I realized I had forgotten that there was fruit in this tree, and it was time for harvest. I lifted her up out of the water and brought my mouth to each of her nipples then encircled them slowly with my tongue. She wriggled and moaned in sweet delight, but, when I pulled back, I noticed that she was looking a little pensive.
“Are you ok?” I asked.
“Yeah, but I have something I’d like to do, and it requires you sitting up on the edge of the Jacuzzi,” she said.
“Not a problem. What did you have in mind?” I asked, as I as I followed her wishes and exited the hot water.
“This,” she said, as she reached down and took hold of Tag Junior.
“Oh, I see.”
“Yeah, I haven’t played with one of these in a while, so I was hoping you might indulge me,” she said.
“It’s OK. I’m one of those rare breed of men who enjoys letting a woman have her way with his manhood.”
“Good to know there’s at least one of you left in the world.”
We shared a smile at the reference to our earlier exchange on the deck.
“Yes indeed, and some days I feel as rare as a unicorn and twice as horny.”
She stood up, kissed me, then took hold of my manhood and started stroking it ever so gently, almost tauntingly, as she stared up into my eyes. At last, she smiled devilishly then began moving her tongue around the tip—each pass making me ache with desire. When I thought I could take no more, she slid the tip fully into her mouth, running her tongue along the underside while she used her hands to stroke the shaft and cup the balls—the resulting pleasure so intense that my head was spinning. Truly, her long dark holiday from the pleasures of the flesh had not dampened her lovemaking skills in any way. It was, therefore, only a matter of seconds before I was in danger of ending the evening prematurely. Letizia, however, was relishing her task and looked particularly bothered when I interrupted, but I had some serious reciprocating to do. I switched places with her, and she looked down at me nervously.
“I really want you inside of me right now,” she said.
“And I want to be inside of you too, but Rome wasn’t built in a day. You’ve been out of the game for two years. We have to take it slow—check your fluids and warm up the engine, so to speak.”
“Trust me, it’s warm and there’s plenty of fluid.”
“Well, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
I kissed her left thigh, then right and slid closer until I was only a breath away from her golden essence. Her heart was now pounding, her entire body shaking in anticipation as I bridged the final distance and touched down in her center. She gasped loudly, her back instantly arching as she leaned on her arms to steady herself.
“Oh, fuck! I don’t know if I can handle it,” she said.
I paused and looked up at her.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be as gentle as a lamb.”
I returned to her essence then slowly dragged my tongue up over her long neglected clitoris, and she let out a wanting moan of pleasure. I made slow deliberate circles, and she started to call out, her cries growing in frequency, her hips rocking ever so slightly fore and aft. I increased the pace and pressure, and every movement of my tongue made Letizia gasp, moan, and wiggle until her thighs began the unmistakable shaking that preceded an inevitable climax. Her entire body suddenly went tense, her back arching and her breasts thrust towards the heavens as she cried out and came with the fury of an erupting Mount Vesuvius. I continued my efforts until she was fully spent and out of breath—her breasts still heaving up and down as she recovered.
“I think it’s safe to say that I’m warm now,” she said, after a moment.
“That makes two of us.”
She leaned forward and stared intently into my eyes.
“I’d love to continue this inside on the bed, but, honestly, I can’t wait that long.”
“Me neither.”
I moved closer, and she guided my plough unto her field, stopping only when heaven met earth.
“Oh God! It’s like being a virgin all over again.”
“Not for long.”
I started moving slowly and purposefully in and out, taking my time so we could kiss, explore each other’s bodies, and relish every second. One moment I would press all the way in and kiss her hard on the lips, while the next time I might lean down and tickle her nipples with my tongue, all of it eliciting deep lustful moans of pleasure. It wasn’t long, however, before our passion grew in intensity, and I was inspired to thrust ever harder and deeper, always making the extra effort to grind my hips against hers. This additional motion brought more attention to Letizia’s clitoris and caused her to start crying out so loudly, that I was pretty sure the entire house, if not the entire island, could hear our carnal coupling. Still, I refused to let such worries interrupt our sweet lovemaking, for the woman before me had suffered two intolerable years of abstinence and, therefore, deserved all that I could give. Her chest was heaving, her body shaking with the impending power of a star about to go supernova as I poured on the final burst of energy that every sprinter kept in reserve. I put every fiber of my being into the effort, pounding my hips into Letizia’s—my body colliding with hers like storm waves rolling up onto a shoreline.
“Oh God! Oh fuck! Oh God! Oh shit! Oh God!” we screamed, the cacophony of our carnal chorus compelling us to continue coupling.
We were working in concert like the gears and pistons of an old steam powered locomotive—our efforts allowing us to crest the hill of arousal and race uncontrollably down into the welcoming valley of climax. Sweet glorious mutually shared release overtook our bodies and Letizia let loose one final mighty scream—the glorious end of two years of abstinence echoing off the hills and out over the ocean. When we could
continue no longer, we came to rest and held each other, two people entwined as one in the stillness of the night. Somewhere off in the distance, I could hear a seabird, and even farther away, the horn of a ship plying the straits of Messina. It was a perfect moment between two lovers—that is, until the clapping started.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Beginning of the End
AS A PRIVATE investigator, I’d filmed plenty of people having sex, but I’d had never had the unfortunate experience of ending up on the other side of the camera—though I imagined this felt pretty similar. Actually, it might be worse considering it had been a live performance for the entire house and possibly even the neighborhood. I looked over and saw Lux, Corn, Babs, Bridgette, and Angelina all standing on the raised seating area that was supposed to afford the master bedroom’s deck with greater privacy. Such was not the case, however, as I now realized that it made for a lovely viewing platform that gave all of the members of our dinner party a bird’s-eye view of the Jacuzzi and its occupants. At least everyone looked amused, that is, except for Babs, whose expression was a swirling mixture of scorn and loathing. I could only imagine how much fun breakfast was going to be. We grabbed our clothes and the bottle of rum and quickly headed for the door to the master bedroom.
“Next show is at seven a.m.,” I said, as I followed Letizia inside, catching Babs’s menacing glare just before leaving the deck.
“Wow. That was incredibly awkward,” Letizia said.
“Yeah, do you think we should have bowed.”
“Well, it would have been a more appropriate end to such an excellent performance.”
“Agreed, so what’s Angelina still doing here?”
“She was too drunk to drive home, so she stayed over.”
“I hope she enjoyed the show.”
“I’m sure she did.”
There was a knock on Letizia’s door, and my first thought was that it was Babs coming to tear off my head, so I threw on my pants and prepared for the worst. Letizia wrapped herself up in a towel and went to the door, but, thankfully, it was only Angelina. She was practically glowing as she swept into the room, grabbed three more glasses from the tray on the vanity, then made a mad dash for the rum, which was now sitting on the bedside table. She poured us all a tiny snifter then held up her glass.
“Ah, buono, Letizia, I am so happy for you!” she said, clinking our glasses and taking a sip.
“It’s only sex, Angelina.”
“Only? Tell me you don’t feel better.”
“I do, but…”
“But nothing! You needed that kind of release after having lived like a nun! Grazie, Tag. Grazie!” Angelina said, as she leaned over and kissed both of us on the cheek before saying good night and heading out the door.
“Are you ready for round two?” Letizia asked.
“Sure, just let me stretch my legs and ice my balls first.”
“I’m only kidding. You’ve earned an excellent night’s sleep.”
Thank God. Another round like that and the police might show up. Letizia disappeared into the bathroom for a quick shower, while I sat on the bed and sipped my rum. Five minutes later, she reappeared, smelling of flowery shampoo, and I decided on a quick rinse as well. When I stepped out of the bathroom, she had already turned off the lights and was waiting for me in bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, she threw her arm and shapely leg over mine and drifted off to sleep, her quiet breaths the only sound other than the sea gently lapping the shore. I was definitely going to miss Sicily.
I should have known that my joke about an encore would end up being an omen of things to come, as at seven twenty-one a.m., I was awakened by a very deliberate and particularly effective alarm clock. Instead of the usual annoying buzzer or sound of the radio, I awoke to the pleasant surprise of a mouth on my manhood. Letizia, it turns out, was an early riser and soon had me fully arisen. The magic of the previous evening was not lost on the morning, and soon, with the aided comfort of her soft bedding, we were switching positions, creating new ones, and doing everything she had been missing for the last two years. Just as we had the night before, we reached orgasmic eventuality, both of us calling out in unabashed delight until falling back on the sheets to recover, spent and coated in a fine mist of lovers’ perspiration. Judging by the decibel level we just achieved, I imagined that the entire house was now beginning their day with the dramatic end of our morning lovemaking.
“Do you want coffee before you do your man business?”
“Definitely.”
We got dressed and headed upstairs, ironically now trying to be as quiet as possible, though I doubt that even a half-deaf narcoleptic could have slept through that ruckus. We entered the quiet kitchen, and she made us both a lovely looking cappuccino, which she even dusted with a dash of chocolate and cinnamon. Buono! Cappuccinos in hand, we headed back downstairs but paused at the beginning of the hallway.
“I’ll see you upstairs for breakfast,” she said.
“Sì, la mia piccola patata,” which was Italian for yes, my little potato.
“Oh, Il tuo italiano non è male,” she responded, which meant oh, your Italian isn’t bad.
“Grazie!” I responded, legitimately pleased to have received my official second words of praise for my Italian language skills—the first obviously having been from my sexy barista Ambra.
We kissed and parted ways, each of us heading off to our respective room, and I was almost to mine when I saw that Corn and Lux’s door was open. Lux soon appeared, apparently wanting to talk to me.
“Good morning, man-whore.”
“Good morning indeed. How did you sleep?”
“OK, but, Corn would prefer to still be sleeping.”
I looked inside and saw him lying down holding a pillow over his head, looking like a child who didn’t want to get out of bed.
“Are you having trouble with your little one?”
“I am, actually. It seems he doesn’t want to wake up, though I can’t hardly blame him considering we were all kept up late and woken up early.”
“Well, you might try holding a piece of bacon under his nose,” I said.
“That’s mean.”
“Not if it works, and he wakes up and eats it.”
She regarded me a moment, slowly shaking her head side to side.
“Seriously now, Finn—what the hell happened to you?”
I leaned in close and lowered my voice so that only Lux could hear me.
“I never told you this, but after I left the CIA, I joined NASA and became an astronaut.”
“Fuck off.”
“No, I’m serious, and five years ago when I was flying an experimental reentry vehicle, my flight systems went down, and I had to make a horrific crash landing. I was a man barely alive, but the good news is that they rebuilt me, stronger, faster, and able to satisfy more women with a single penis. I am—the bionic man-whore, and that night on the beach, if you’d listened a little more closely while we were taking back our little moment in time, you’d have heard my penis making that bionic t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t sound.”
“Are your balls also bionic—because I am about to test them out with my knee.”
“Yeah, but being bionic makes them super sensitive, so I’ll just be heading back to my room now.”
As I left Lux, I made the bionic t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t sound until entering my room and locking the door behind me in an attempt to make sure that nothing ruined my final morning in Sicily. I walked over, opened the French doors, and felt the chill of the predawn air as I stepped outside and cast my gaze upon the beautiful calm waters of the Mediterranean. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but there was enough light to cast the entire sea and sky in a lovely shade of azure blue. The seagulls were already up and about, and their high pitched cries were the only noise to break the silence of the morning. I was certainly going to miss this place and especially my lovely hostess. Unfortunately, my moment of quiet reverie was rudely interrupted when the tub of love started grousing
in the adjacent room. Perhaps Lux had tried my bacon trick after all. I turned my attention back to the view and took another sip of my cappuccino, and realized the warm beverage was bringing forth the unmistakable feeling of an imminent morning movement. I looked at my watch and timed the contractions. Eight seconds, which meant it was time to go—literally. I strolled into the bathroom and pulled the little chord that opened the blinds. The sun was just about to rise over the hills of mainland Italy, and the view would be too good to miss.
I sat on the toilet and gazed straight ahead towards the window as I waited for the warming rays of the sun to travel their ninety three million miles to this humble bathroom. My muscles relaxed, the earth turned, and suddenly the room was ablaze in morning light. It was as though heaven itself were blessing this dump, and I could almost hear the angels singing as I closed my eyes and enjoyed the radiant warmth of the sun gently kissing my face as my anus bid farewell to the remains of the previous day.
It was a perfect moment until I sensed a presence suddenly blocking the sun, and I opened my eyes to see a figure standing directly outside my window. My vision was obscured by the brightness, but I could make out a man, and he appeared to be wearing some kind of headscarf. Oh fuck. The terrorists had found us, and I had been caught unawares and vulnerable on the Goddamn toilet. How ironic that I should meet my demise this way. I started to think about whether or not I should wipe when my antagonist moved closer, and, to my astonishment, I realized it was Corn, and he was laughing his ass off as he stood there with a towel draped over his head. Motherfucker! He should know better than anyone that ruining my dumps had always been a harbinger of doom.
“Very funny, asshole!” I yelled.
He laughed and walked out of view, and I thought about yelling that I had fucked his wife, but, fortunately, a cooler head prevailed, and I sat quietly brooding on the toilet. I finished up, entered the shower, then tried to relax, but my heart was still racing from Corn’s little stunt. Eventually, the combination of hot water and floral scented shampoo brought me back to mental and physical homeostasis, and I turned off the water and stepped out to dry off and get dressed. I chose the usual black pants but decided to mix it up and throw in the black and blue knit pullover that the sales girl back in Switzerland had said brought out my eyes. Last, I brushed my teeth and took one last look in the mirror. Shit, it was time to face the music.
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