365 Days

by Blanka Lipinska

  Then he bent his arms and leaned against the wall with his elbows so his head left the stream of water.

  “You want something, or are you just watching?” Massimo asked, his eyes still shut.

  My heart was pounding like crazy. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. In my thoughts, I was cursing the moment I had allowed him to join me in that fucking shower, though truth be told, my protestations would have probably amounted to nothing. My body was rebelling against me, every cell in it yearning to touch him. I licked my lips, wondering how it would feel to have him in my mouth.

  I imagined myself standing behind him, water dripping from my body, and grabbing his manhood with my hand. Tightening my fingers around it. And him, moaning in ecstasy, aroused by my touch. I turn him around and push him against the wall. Then I take a step closer, my hand never leaving his rock-hard cock. Slowly I lick his nipples and trace my fingers up his dick, to the very tip, and then back to its base. I feel him getting even harder, and his hips starting to rock gently to the rhythm of my strokes.

  “Your expression, Laura, tells me you’re not thinking about the things you’re going to pack for our trip.”

  I shook my head as if I’d just woken up and was trying to drive off a lingering dream. Massimo was standing in the same position with his elbows against the wall. The only difference was that now he was watching me, clearly enjoying himself. I panicked and couldn’t think of anything to say. The only thing I could think of was sucking his dick. My panic lured him, like a wounded animal attracts a predator.

  Massimo started heading toward me, and I was doing everything I could to keep my eyes trained on his. He closed the distance between us in three steps. That was good. The object of my obsession vanished from my field of view. Unfortunately, the feeling of relief didn’t last. As he stopped right in front of me, his erect phallus delicately touched my belly. I withdrew, but he followed me. Each two steps I took, he only had to take one to get close again. Despite the shower being so big, I knew there wasn’t much space left behind me. When I reached the wall, the Man in Black pressed against me.

  “What did you think about, looking at it?” he asked, leaning over me. “You want to touch it? For now, it is touching you…”

  I wasn’t able to reply. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I stood there, defenseless, dizzy and drunk with lust, and he rubbed against me, pressing harder against my belly. The steady pressure grew rhythmic, pulsating. Massimo moaned and leaned his forehead on the wall behind me.

  “I’ll do it with your help or without it,” he breathed.

  I couldn’t resist anymore. I clutched at his buttocks. As I sunk my nails into his skin, he growled with delight. With a firm motion, I turned around and pushed him against the wall. His hands fell loosely along his body, and his eyes were alight with desire. I knew that I had to stop right now. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to control myself, and I’d do something I’d regret later.

  I spun around and rushed out. I grabbed a bathrobe on my way and threw it over myself, running through the door. I kept running down the corridor, even though I couldn’t hear his steps behind me, only stopping when I passed the garden and the stairs leading to the little marina. Gasping for air, I jumped onto the motorboat and collapsed on one of the couches.

  Trying to catch my breath, I analyzed what happened. The images in my head weren’t going to allow me to think clearly. The only thing I could see was Massimo’s gorgeous, erect cock. I could almost taste it in my mouth, feel the touch of its delicate skin in my hand.

  I don’t have the slightest idea how long I stayed in that boat, staring out into the sea, but at some point, I gathered my wits and returned to the residence.

  Carefully opening the door to my bedroom, I saw Domenico, arranging gigantic Louis Vuitton travel bags.

  “Where is Massimo?” I asked in a whisper, sticking my head into the room.

  The young Italian raised his eyes and smiled.

  “The library, I’d wager. Would you like me to take you to him? He’s currently talking to his consigliere, but I was instructed to take you to him whenever you’d like.”

  I entered the room and closed the door behind me.

  “Oh, believe me, I don’t want that,” I replied, waving my hands at him. “Did he tell you to pack my things?”

  Domenico didn’t interrupt his work.

  “You are leaving in an hour, so I thought you could use some help, miss. Unless you don’t want me to…”

  “Stop calling me miss. I can’t stand it. Besides, we’re probably the same age, so let’s skip the formalities.”

  Domenico smiled and nodded, signaling his consent.

  “Can you tell me where we’re going?” I asked.

  “To Napoli, Rome, and Venice,” he replied. “And then the Côte d’Azur.”

  I opened my eyes wider, surprised. I had never been to all those places. I hadn’t seen so many places in my whole life!

  “Do you know what we’re to do in each of those places?” I asked. “I’d like to know what to take with me.”

  Domenico stopped what he was doing and walked over to the closet.

  “I do, in fact, but I was told not to spoil it for you. Don Massimo will make everything clear in time. I’ll help you pick the right outfits, don’t worry.” He winked at me. “Fashion is something of a hobby to me.”

  “I’ll trust you fully if that’s the case. If we only have an hour to prepare, let’s get to it, shall we?”

  Domenico nodded and disappeared in the cavernous closet.

  I went into the bathroom, which was still filled with the scent of lust. My stomach cramped. I can’t do it, I thought. I went back to the bedroom, crossed the room, and went into the closet, calling out to Domenico, “Have my things from Warsaw arrived yet?”

  The man opened one of the large armoires and pointed his hand at a heap of boxes.

  “Yes, but don Massimo asked me to tell you not to wear those.”

  Great, I thought.

  “Can you leave me for a second?”

  Before I managed to turn around, I was alone.

  I threw myself at the boxes, searching for the only thing I really needed right now—my pink, three-pronged best friend.

  After some fifteen minutes of frantic searching through dozens of boxes, I finally had it. I breathed with relief, hiding my trophy in a pocket of the bathrobe. I hurried back to the bathroom.

  All the while, Domenico stayed on the balcony, awaiting my signal. Crossing the room, I nodded to him and he returned to the closet.

  I took out the pink toy and washed it thoroughly. It really was my best friend at the moment. I let out a soft moan in anticipation. Taking a look around the bathroom, I searched for the perfect place. I liked to masturbate lying down. I could never do it in a rush or when I felt uncomfortable. The bedroom would be best, but my assistant’s presence would only distract me. There was a modern white chaise longue in the corner of the bathroom, though. It wouldn’t be the most comfortable spot, but it’d have to do. I was desperate enough to lie on the floor anyway.

  The chaise was surprisingly soft and perfectly suited my body. I untied the bathrobe, letting it slip to the sides of my body, and reclined, naked and yearning for orgasm. I licked two fingers and slid them inside me to reduce the friction. Amazingly, I was still so wet it proved completely unnecessary. I switched the vibrator on and slipped its middle prong into my pulsating snatch. As the thickest part slid deeper into me, a second protrusion—shaped like a bunny—entered my back door. My body spasmed. I shivered, knowing it wouldn’t take me long at all to slake my desire. The third part of my rubber companion vibrated the hardest, caressing my puffed-up clitoris. I closed my eyes. There was only one image in my head, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. It was Massimo, in the shower, holding his beautiful cock in his hands.

  The first orgasm came after only a couple of seconds. The next waves came in increments of half a minute at most. After a short while, I was so
exhausted I had difficulty pulling the pink vibrator out. I brought my legs together.

  Thirty minutes later, I was standing in front of the mirror, packing my cosmetics into one of the leather bags. I glanced at my reflection. I looked nothing like the woman I had been just a week ago. My skin was tanned, healthy, and fresh. I’d tied my hair into a neat bun, lined my eyes delicately, and applied some dark lip gloss. Domenico picked a white Chanel outfit for our trip. Long, wide, off-white pants made of paper-thin silk blended in with a delicate flowy shirt with wide shoulder straps, giving the impression of being a single, unbroken overall. The peep-toe Prada stilettos complemented the outfit perfectly.

  “Your things are packed,” Domenico said, passing me my bag.

  “I’d like to see Massimo now.”

  “He hasn’t finished his meeting yet, but—”

  “Then he will,” I snapped disdainfully, leaving the room.

  The library was one of those rooms whose location I had committed to memory. I headed down the corridor, and the patter of my stilettos reverberated from the stone floor. As I reached the right door, I took a deep breath and pulled on the handle. I went inside and felt a shiver running down my spine. I hadn’t been here since my first conversation with the Man in Black, only a while after waking up from my deep sleep.

  Massimo was sitting on the couch. He wore a light linen suit and an unbuttoned shirt. Next to him sat a man with graying hair—very handsome and a lot older than Massimo. A typical Italian, I thought. Longish hair combed back and a well-groomed goatee. Seeing me, both of them jumped to their feet. The first look I got from the Man in Black was ice-cold. As if he wanted to scold me for interrupting his meeting. But as soon as his eyes swept my entire silhouette, his stare seemed to grow less severe. He said something to the other man, keeping his eyes on me, and started walking my way. He approached me and leaned over, kissing me on the cheek.

  “A pity. I had to cope without you,” he whispered, planting the kiss.

  “I’ve done the same,” I replied in a whisper as his mouth retreated.

  The words made him freeze for an instant. His stare was full of passion and anger. He took my hand in his and led me to his friend.

  “Laura, meet Mario—my right hand.” I walked over to the man to offer him a hand, but he swooped in, grabbed me by the shoulders, and kissed me on both cheeks. I still hadn’t grown used to that. Where I come from, you only kiss your closest friends and relatives.

  “Consigliere,” I said with a smile.

  “Just Mario is all right.” The older man returned my smile. “It is good to finally see you in the flesh. Alive.”

  Those words rooted me to the spot. What did he mean, “alive”? Had he assumed I wouldn’t live to see him? My face must have shown some of my emotions, as Mario quickly explained, “There are paintings of you all over the mansion. They’ve been there for years now, but nobody ever believed you were real. You must be as astounded as we are.”

  I could only shrug.

  “I won’t lie: this whole situation is a bit surreal and daunting. But we all know I have no power over don Massimo, so I humbly accept each and every one of the three hundred and sixty-five days he has given me.”

  Massimo burst out laughing.

  “Humbly…” he repeated, turning to his companion, who immediately joined in the merriment.

  “I’m happy I could improve your mood. Now, I’ll wait in the car so you can enjoy my absence,” I hissed, sending them both an ironic smirk. As I turned my back on them and headed to the door, I heard Mario say, trying to hold back the laughter, “Indeed, Massimo, it’s just as if she was Italian.”

  I ignored that and shut the door behind me.

  I stopped before I exited the house and went out to the driveway. The image of the dead man lying on the paving stones flashed before my eyes. I swallowed, took a furtive look around, and headed in the direction of the SUV parked outside. The driver opened the door for me and gave me a hand as I stepped inside.

  My iPhone was lying on the back seat, right next to my laptop. I squealed with glee, seeing both devices. I quickly pressed the button that closed the darkened window between the driver and the back seat. I turned the phone on and quickly my joy evaporated—there were dozens of missed calls from my mom, but not even one from Martin. It was weird and sad to discover that the man I had been with for more than a year cared so little about me.

  I dialed Mom. Her terrified voice greeted me immediately.

  “Oh, darling, I’ve been crying my eyes out. Dying of fear for you, goddamn it!” my mother exclaimed, on the verge of bursting into tears.

  “Mom, you only called me yesterday. Everything’s fine.”

  It seemed her motherly intuition told her otherwise. She didn’t back down.

  “Are you sure? Is everything okay, Laura? Are you back from Sicily? How was your trip?”

  I took a deep breath. It wouldn’t be that easy to fool her. Was everything okay? Well… I glanced down at myself, then around me.

  “It is more than okay, Mom. I’m back, yes, but I need to tell you something.” I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that she took the bait.

  “I was offered a great job in one of the best hotels on the island.” I tried sounding super excited. “They’re giving me a one-year contract and I’ve decided to accept. I’m just getting ready to go back to Sicily.” I waited for some kind of reaction. There was only silence.

  “You can’t speak a word of Italian,” Mom said.

  “Oh, please, what does it matter? Everyone here speaks English.”

  The situation was getting out of hand. If we kept speaking, she’d see through my deception. Wanting to avoid that, I continued.

  “I’ll come and visit in a few days and I’ll tell you everything. For now, I have a lot of stuff to take care of.”

  “Okay. What about Martin?” she asked cautiously. “I know he won’t leave his company. He’s too much of a workaholic.”

  I sighed.

  “He cheated on me during our trip. I left him. I know now that this is a great opportunity for me,” I said in the calmest and most dispassionate voice I could muster.

  “I told you! He wasn’t the guy for you, child.”

  Yeah, right. You should be happy you don’t know the new one.

  “Okay, I have to go now, Mommy. I’m entering the town hall now. Call me and remember that I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Be careful out there, darling.”

  I sighed with relief as I pressed the red button. It worked, hopefully. Now I only had to tell the Man in Black about my visit to Poland. It was inevitable now. In that moment, the car door opened, and Massimo deftly slipped inside.

  He took a look at my hand. The iPhone was still in it.

  “Yes, but it didn’t change the fact that she’s still worried,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the window. “Unfortunately, speaking to her on the phone did next to nothing, and I’ll have to go to Poland within the next couple of days. Especially since she thinks I’m already there.” I turned my head to the Man in Black, wanting to gauge his reaction. He was watching me.

  “Have you talked to your mother?” he asked with something approaching concern as the car began moving.

  “I expected as much. That’s why I’ve already planned for it. The last stop of our trip will be Warsaw. It won’t be as soon as you’d like, but calling your mother more often from now on should assuage her concerns and give us more time.”

  That was good news.

  “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

  Massimo kept his eyes on me for a moment longer. Then he lay his head on the headrest and sighed.

  “I’m not so bad. I don’t want to keep you here against your will. I don’t want to threaten you. But, tell me: would you stay of your own will?” He fixed me with a searching stare.

  I turned away. Would I stay? Of course not.

  The Man in Black was still waiting for a reply, but didn’t get one, so he turned to
his iPhone, scrolling and reading something on the Internet.

  The silence was unbearable. I needed someone to talk to. Maybe it was because of my longing for home, or maybe it was the morning shower. Still looking through the window, I asked, “Where are we going now?”

  “The airport in Catania. If the traffic is light, we should be there in less than an hour.” Hearing the word “airport,” I shivered. My back stiffened and my breathing quickened. There weren’t a lot of things I hated as much as flying.

  I fidgeted restlessly in my seat, and the pleasant chill of the air-conditioning suddenly seemed like arctic winter. Nervously, I rubbed my arms, trying in vain to warm myself. The goose bumps didn’t vanish. Massimo glanced at me with his cold eyes, but the ice suddenly turned into fire.

  “Why aren’t you wearing a fucking bra?” he snapped.

  I frowned and sent him a questioning look.

  “I can see your nipples.”

  I glanced down and realized he was right. They were visible through the delicate fabric. I dropped one of the straps of my shirt, revealing my shoulder. The tanned skin was covered by the lace strap of a beige bra.

  “Not my fault that all the underwear I own now is made of lace,” I said, impassive. “I don’t have a single padded bra, so excuse me, but I’ll just have to keep drawing everyone’s attention. I didn’t pick any of those things.” I looked Massimo in the eyes, waiting for a response.

  He watched the thin lace strap for a moment before reaching out with a hand and pulling my shirt even lower. The light fabric flowed gently down my arm, revealing my breasts. Massimo sat rooted to the spot, taking in the view. I did nothing to hide. After my morning meeting with my pink friend I was feeling sated and in control of my own head, even if it was only an illusion. The Man in Black drew his leg up the seat and sat on his side. Slowly, he pushed his thumb between the lace shoulder strap and my skin. His touch made me shiver again, but this time it had nothing to do with the fear of flying.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, trailing his thumb lower and sliding his whole hand under my bra strap.