The Man of My Dreams: A Forbidden Box Set Collection

by S. E. Law

  But this afternoon, quite a few ladies have come together for my big sendoff. There’s Natalie, whose glinting brown eyes tell me that there’s a naughty something in her gift. She’s with Gary and Gascon, two handsome truckers who were introduced to her through the use of glory holes.

  Then, there’s Naomi, who met her boyfriends, Aaron and Andrew, while being pounded on a washing machine. It’s a dirty story as well because evidently, she used an XL sized toy while balancing on top of a washer. Aaron and Andrew got one glimpse of that naughtiness, and they wanted Naomi for keeps.

  Plus, the other ladies have stories just as scandalous, and it’s wonderful. I adore them all. We get along well because we all perform nasty and taboo acts with our men. The dads in our club are gorgeous and handsome truckers, so why not?

  Ladies laugh and chatter around me while digging into their food. There’s a lavish spread on the side table, and unlike many women-only parties, my friends actually eat. I see Layla wolfing down some guac with chips, while Sienna helps herself to another huge cupcake. Good girl. We’re all bigger sized, but the men in Dads and Daughters appreciate it. They adore our curves, and worship the generous assets that we bring to the table.

  Suddenly, June stands up and claps her hands. She’s curvy too, with wild brown curls and a sassy look.

  “Hey everyone, let’s gather around for the gift opening,” she announces. “Melissa’s leaving for Italy and I want to see what everyone got her. Dried spaghetti? Tomato sauce? An apron that says Tutti Frutti? Wait, is that even Italian?”

  I mock groan a bit.

  “You know, I’m not bringing that much to the Continent. I want to travel light, and Italy’s a first world country. I can buy everything I need there.”

  But the ladies giggle and ignore me before seating themselves in a circle on the couches. Gaily wrapped presents are placed next to my chair, and we all laugh and chat a bit more. Then I pick up one of the packages, and read the card.

  “Oh thank you, Layla,” I say with a smile at the beautiful girl with honey-colored hair. “What a nice sentiment.”

  Layla laughs and smiles. She recently had a baby so I’m grateful for her presence today. She could easily say that she’s busy or that her child’s sick, but instead, Layla’s taken the opportunity to see me one last time before I go.

  “Of course,” she says graciously. But then her smile becomes wicked. “Wait until you see what it is.”

  I rip through the wrapping paper and then stare at the gift. It’s a four pack of baby bottles, each one with a different colored nipple.

  “Wait a minute, is this for me?” I ask with confusion.

  “Of course it is,” says Layla indignantly. “Who else would it be for, silly?”

  “But I don’t have any kids,” I reply, totally flummoxed. “These bottles are clearly for babies.”

  This is where the older girl gets a devious look on her face.

  “Yes, but say you meet a man, fall in love, and he gets you pregnant. Say you have the baby, and not only does the baby like to drink milk, but your partner does too. These bottles will come in handy because you can store breast milk for your baby while feeding your man. Both of them will have lots to eat!”

  The other girls giggle while I flush.

  “Oh my god, is that what you’re doing with Tyler?”

  Layla nods with satisfaction, and for the umpteenth time, I notice how large her bosom has become ever since she got pregnant.

  “Oh yeah,” she says coyly, cupping her girls suggestively. “These babies are feeding two guys: my baby and my man,” she adds with a wink.

  The girls gasp and giggle even more.

  “So all the lactation rumors about you guys are true?” asks Alizeh, her eyes wide. “Tyler’s drinking your milk too?”

  Layla nods proudly.

  “Yes,” she says. “I enjoy it to be honest. I love feeling my man’s lips on my ruby nips, and let me tell you, we often do that with milk streaming everywhere.”

  I giggle, so titillated.

  “Oh my god, that sounds hot. I had no idea that breastfeeding could be so naughty. You go, girl! Does anyone else do that too? I know we’ve had quite a few babies born lately.”

  With that, Naomi smirks conspiratorially.

  “Well, I haven’t had a child, but if you open my gift, then you’ll see what my dirty story is,” she says, nodding to a sparkly turquoise gift bag next to my chair. I peer inside and my eyes almost pop out of my sockets.

  “Wait, but what are these?” I ask, reaching in before holding up two black pieces of rubber. My hands go through them, and they look like five pound weights, but they’re not. Their purpose is unclear. “Is this exercise equipment of some sort? In case I want to get in shape while I’m in Italy?”

  “No silly,” interrupts Megan. “Can’t you tell? They’re wall grips, so that you have something to hang onto when the going gets unruly.”

  I stare at Megan and then back at Naomi.

  “Are you serious?”

  Naomi nods smugly.

  “Definitely, girlfriend. What do you think I was holding onto during my first time with Andrew and Aaron? My ride on the washing machine was rough and tumble, and I needed to brace myself while getting pummeled from below.”

  I gasp because of course these are wall grips. I should have recognized them immediately. You bolt them onto the wall, and then hold on while your world is being rocked by a man, or in this case, by two men. Naomi met her boyfriends Andrew and Aaron while she was enjoying a toy at the Lodge’s laundromat, and let’s just say it was a miracle she didn’t fall off from an overload of pleasure. I smile coyly and slip the black rubber implements back into the bag before tucking it under my seat.

  “Thanks,” I say with a wink. “You’re right, these are going to be really useful, and I have no idea where I’d find them in Italy. Good foresight.”

  Naomi winks right back at me and then holds her hand out for a high five, which I return.

  “Do they run with the bulls in Italy?” she asks idly. “That could be fun. Or is that Spain?”

  “I think it’s Spain,” chirps Megan while nodding. “But with the way this party is going, Melissa’s going to need several bulls just to use all these gifts!”

  We all laugh, and then another package is thrust into my arms.

  “Me next!” says Natalie with a whimsical smile. “My gift is more of a gag gift, but I hope you like it anyways.”

  I smile at her and unwrap the red wrapping paper. Inside, there’s a two-pack of toilet paper.

  “Natalie, they have toilet paper in Italy,” I say with a droll smile. “Other European countries use bidets, but I think Italy is one of the ones that still has regular flush toilets.”

  “Oh this isn’t for the restroom,” she says with another breezy grin. “Or rather, it is, but you won’t be using the toilet. You’ll be wiping seed from the corners of your mouth because you’ll be perfecting your oral techniques while using special holes in the wall.”

  I laugh, because of course this is the perfect present from Natalie. My friend met her boyfriends Gary and Gascon while visiting the restroom with the blue door here at the Lodge. The blue doors are actually a code. They tell users that there are glory holes inside the restroom, and quite a few members of Dads and Daughters like to use them on a regular basis. Even though we all know one another, sometimes the added excitement of anonymous interactions is appealing. Plus, Natalie met her men through the use of glory holes, so really, anything can happen.

  It’s one of the things I love about our group. The club was created a long time ago to service the needs of long-haul truckers on a temporary basis. These men work sixteen hours days, and when they pull into a rest stop at night, they put in a call to the local Lodge. Then, a daughter is sent to greet him, and to act as a “hostess” for the evening, if you will. Of course, it’s all temporary. After a hot night together, the trucker drives off the next morning, and the girl returns to the Lodge wi
th a happy smile and a used, sated body.

  But despite the relationships’ transient nature, more than a few hook-ups have turned into something real. Natalie, Naomi, and Layla all met their long-term partners through Dads and Daughters. Plus, even June, our local rebel, met her three lovers, Finn, Fred, and Forest Connaught through the club. It’s worked out in so many ways, and I can’t wait for it to be my turn.

  After all, that’s part of the reason why I’m going to Italy. I’ve been at this Lodge for almost a year now, and yet I haven’t met a man for a long-term relationship. There have been many hot, muscled truckers who gave me nights of bliss and days of pleasure. But long term? No, I haven’t found anyone yet. At least not here in our small town, which is why I want to discover Milan.

  “Are you sure?” Alizeh asked me when I told her about my plan.

  “Yeah, why not?” I asked. “I’ve been with this Lodge for a year now, and I want to spread my wings a little. I’ve never traveled internationally,” I say ruefully. “I’m one of those Americans who’s always stayed in the lower forty-eight.”

  Alizeh laughs with me. She’s a petite blonde and probably only weighs about half of what I do. Yet, we’ve become close friends and I’m genuinely fond of her. She’s naturally shy, but she loosens up quite a bit once you get to know her.

  “I’m not doing much better,” she says ruefully. “I’ve been to Hawaii, but otherwise I’ve never left the continental United States.”

  “I know!” I say with an emphatic nod. “I haven’t even been to Canada because I’m so pathetic. So when they said they were looking for girls to help start up a new lodge in Milan, I thought why not me? I can do it. Plus, I hear Italian men are very handsome.”

  Alizeh giggles with me.

  “They’re more than just handsome,” she titters. “They’re called Italian Stallions for a reason, you know.”

  “Oh really?” I ask archly. “And where’s your proof?” I joke.

  Alizeh nods with a sly smile on her dainty lips.

  “Well, I was with two truckers last week who are of Italian-American descent. So yes, they’re not Italian Italian like the men you’re going to meet overseas. But they were definitely huge down there, and it was amazing. I couldn’t even walk right the next day.”

  I laugh even as my eyes go wide.

  “Are you serious?”

  Alizeh flushes a bit and nods.

  “Yeah. I had to sit on an ice pack for a few hours the next morning because I was so sore down there. But now, I’m back in business,” she says cheerfully. “I’m all stretched out and ready to go.”

  We both laugh because even though this job is illicit and taboo, it’s right for us. We discuss the trials and tribulations that come with this line of employment, but we love these so-called “problems” too. To be honest, I’d love to get stretched out like that one day. I’ve been with some enormous men, but somehow, my body is very flexible. I definitely feel like my sugar walls are challenged, but I’ve never been pushed to the edge the way Alizeh’s describing.

  “So Milan,” she says again. “Oh wait. Aren’t you afraid of coronavirus? I heard that there’s been an outbreak in Italy.”

  I nod somberly.

  “I am a little afraid of that, but I’m hoping the Italian government gets it under control before I arrive. I don’t know. Why? Do you think I should back out?”

  Alizeh looks thoughtful.

  “I don’t know. I mean, coronavirus is really scary, but aren’t eighty percent of cases really mild? Most people recover from it with no problem, right?”

  I nod somberly.

  “Yes, but it’s the twenty percent who get severe pneumonia which makes it scary because it’s not the weak and the old who are necessarily in that twenty percent. It could be anyone. A Chinese doctor who called out the Chinese government on their deficient response to coronavirus was only thirty-four when he died. He didn’t have a compromised immune system, nor was he a smoker. That’s why this virus is so frightening. It could hit anyone really hard, and there’s no cure.”

  My blonde friend nods and looks thoughtful.

  “Well, the Italian government has definitely put a lot of safety measures into place. I heard that people can’t go out anymore. Italians stay at home 24/7 now, and serenade each other from their balconies because they’re so bored.”

  I nod. Social distancing can take many forms, from school closures to stand-alone isolation hospitals. Italy has basically put their economy into a standstill while coronavirus rips through the fabric of their society, but it’s for a good cause. They need to save Europe before the sickness strikes Berlin, Paris, and London with a vengeance.

  “I feel terrible because I saw a picture of St. Mark’s Square in Venice, which is usually overflowing with tourists. It was empty,” I say somberly. “There was no one there.”

  “Then you have to go,” says Alizeh smartly. “To help a country in need.”

  I smile ruefully at her.

  “But at what expense? My health? My life?”

  Alizeh shakes her head.

  “I think you’re going to be fine, Melissa. Of course, I’m no doctor, but I think if you take basic precautionary measures, everything should work out. Wear a mask in public if you need to. Wash your hands for twenty seconds. Avoid anyone who’s recently been to China or Japan. But imagine the Italian Stallions on the other side of the Atlantic. They must be so lonely and depressed with this whole coronavirus thing, and your presence will help cheer them up.”

  I nod.

  “I know, and that’s our job, right? As daughters, we exist for the pleasure of the truckers who need us. Maybe there are fifty Italian truckers at this very moment who could use some pep. I could do the job.”

  “You could,” nods Alizeh. “Hey, maybe I should go along too!”

  “No,” I laugh. “Our lodge is only sending one girl, and I’ve already volunteered. It’s fine. But if we need anyone, I’ll definitely tell them to give you a ring,” I say.

  My friend smiles.

  “Okay, sounds good. Eat lots of pasta while you’re there,” she winks at me.

  I giggle, and then we went our separate ways that day. But now, it’s really happening. It’s my going-away party, and I’m wearing a white blouse, red skirt, and a green bow in my hair in order to honor my new country. There are streamers, balloons, and even a big cake in the colors of red, white and green. We talk gaily while devouring cannoli and sipping cappuccinos. But in the back of my mind, I wonder if I’m really ready. After all, I’m leaving everything I know in order to meet Italian stallions. Will the country deliver, or will I be a lonely girl lost in a foreign land? There’s only one way to find out.

  103

  Melissa

  Oh wow. The hotel lobby is beautiful but deserted. I look around the palatial interior and take a deep breath. Evidently, Milan is suffering from a dearth of tourists, just like Venice.

  “Hello,” I say to the receptionist with a bright smile. “Melissa Knight, checking in.” She has bright blonde hair swept into a low bun, and a face mask on. Ugh. Her fingers type at the keyboard while searching for the reservation, but then I feel something come up behind me. There’s a frisson in the air, and a hot chill runs down my back.

  Immediately I turn and see the two most gorgeous men I’ve ever set eyes upon. They’re both at least six four, with inky black hair and penetrating blue eyes. They have chiseled jaws and wide shoulders that look like they could mow down a house.

  “Signorina Knight?” asks one in a low growl. “I’m Domenico, and this is my friend Matteo. We’re from the Milan Lodge.”

  I nod while growing hot inside.

  “Hi, nice to meet you,” I say while sticking out my hand for a shake. My tiny palm disappears into their huge grips and I feel dazzled while I look into their blue eyes, as if I’ve been out in the sun too long. “I just got off the plane,” is my babbled reply. “I’m just checking in now.”

  “Perfect,” says Ma
tteo with a small bow. “The Continental Hotel is one of the nicest places in Milan to stay.” With many men, a bow would come off as ridiculous or even worse, condescending. But his Italian air gives it a chivalrous feel, and I feel myself heating up inside all over again. It’s like I’m Snow White meeting Prince Charming for the first time. Or two Prince Charmings, for that matter. Domenico grins as the receptionist hands me my key.

  “May we escort you to your room, Signorina?” he asks courteously. “No need for a bell hop.”

  I smile.

  “Well, I only have that one bag over there, and my backpack,” I say.

  “We’ll take them,” says Matteo while swinging the backpack easily over one shoulder. It’s a forty-pound weight that I was laboring under, but to him, it looks like nothing more than child’s play. At the same time, Domenico takes my suitcase as if it weighs nothing.

  “Perfect,” he growls. “Are you ready?”

  I nod.

  “Ready!”

  With a bright smile, we make our way across the lobby area to the elevator.

  “The hotel is really deserted from the coronavirus pandemic,” I say ruefully. “I think we’ll have the hotel’s public spaces to ourselves.”

  “All the better,” says Matteo with a knowing glance. “We’ll be able to enjoy our time together to the maximum.”

  I stare at him as my cheeks flame. He didn’t say anything untoward, and yet there’s a subtle double entendre in his words. What did Matteo mean exactly?

  But the two gorgeous men merely smile at me again, their blue eyes enigmatic. I try to make conversation once more, feeling a bit unsure.

  “So you’re from the Milan Lodge?” I ask.

  Matteo and Domenico share a glance and then chuckle.

  “Well, I think “Lodge” is a little too generous at this point,” laughs Matteo. “We hardly have a structure yet, much less a full-fledged lodge.”