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ATasteofRome

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by Lucy Felthouse




  A Taste of Rome

  Lucy Felthouse

  Ryan Stonebridge and his friend Kristian Hurst have traveled to London and Paris on their gap year adventure before starting university. Now it’s on to Rome.

  The American girls they met in Paris are along for the ride, providing lots of sexy fun for the boys. But as none of the foursome are looking for commitment, there’s still plenty of scope for hooking up with the locals. Voyeurism, cougars, risky outdoor sex and threesomes abound in the Italian leg of the boys’ European adventure.

  An EC for Men contemporary erotica story from Ellora’s Cave

  A Taste of Rome

  Lucy Felthouse

  Chapter One

  Ryan came to the conclusion that perhaps this journey wasn’t so horrendous after all. He’d been a little miffed that the American girls, Shanna and Taryn, had wanted to tag along from Paris to Rome with him and Kristian. He’d been keen not to end up with any chicks who wanted more than a one-night stand, figuring that any romantic entanglements would screw up their footloose and fancy-free gap year trip. Their last year of freedom, without commitment, before they went to University and had to grow up, buckle down.

  In the here and now, however, Ryan decided that Shanna actually wasn’t that bad. It seemed she was determined to spice up the never-ending coach trip from Paris to Rome. Eight hundred and seventy miles, thirteen hours. They’d known when they’d booked it that it would be nigh on intolerable, but it was the cheapest way to travel. And having sat in the increasingly stuffy, tiny coach, Ryan could see why. It made cramped seats in coach class on a flight feel like first class.

  Shanna had removed her jacket as the crap air-conditioning was utterly failing to cool down the cabin. It had been draped over her lap for a while before she slid it across so it covered part of his too. Ryan frowned, wondering why she thought it was a good idea to make him warmer. He was already melting in the heat. Then she slipped her hand beneath the jacket and moved it over his crotch. She squeezed his flaccid cock, making her intentions absolutely clear. He realized that if he continued to stare down at their laps it would be painfully obvious to anyone who glanced in their direction what they were up to. So he leaned over and kissed Shanna’s cheek, nuzzling her red hair out of the way to murmur into her ear.

  “I’m going to try to act natural.” Then, remembering what had happened to him back in London when he’d ended up with cum-filled boxer shorts, he added, “Can you, uh, catch it in a tissue?”

  Grinning, Shanna revealed the flimsy white material in her other hand. It appeared she’d already thought of that. Saucy wench—he liked her. She was a fun girl, gorgeous-looking and a great lay. Had things been different, he might have considered pursuing something long-term with her, but it wasn’t going to happen. He and Kristian had this one chance, this few months to live life to the fullest, do what they wanted, do who they wanted, go where they liked, and he wasn’t going to throw it away for a green-eyed, cute-accented chick. No way.

  He wasn’t worried about upsetting her, though. He knew that she and her friend had a similar pact and outlook on their European travels. They too were hooking up, having a good time and moving on.

  Ryan grinned out of the window. Life was good. A sexy girl was about to get his cock out on a coach and toss him off, and he was heading to the third destination on his gap year adventure. The Italian capital awaited and he couldn’t wait to see what it had in store.

  Before he got there, though, he was going to have another orgasm on public transport. First the toilets on the Eurostar, now beneath a jacket on a coach. God, what was it with women and doing it in cramped, risky places? And Blanche—the French bird on the Eurostar—and Shanna weren’t the only ones he was thinking of. He was beginning to forget what it was like to have sex in a bed. Not that he was complaining—Christ, no. If a sexy woman propositioned him, who was he to refuse?

  By now Shanna had undone his belt, button and fly and released his cock from his boxers. It had taken a while as she’d had to keep her movements slow, subtle, so no one realized what was happening. As a result of all the fumbling, his dick was rock hard by the time she got it out, and it sprung eagerly into her hand.

  She leaned her head on his shoulder and he slipped his arm around her, pulling her close. Anyone who looked now would just see a couple of young people having a cuddle. Or possibly a hot redhead sleeping on the shoulder of a young man who could either be her boyfriend or a total stranger.

  Carefully, she began to stroke him, getting into a rhythm that would drive him to climax without anyone knowing.

  Ryan turned back to the window, giving the appearance of looking out at the darkening sky. Shanna’s grip tightened, her movements grew faster and he grew closer to coming. He dug his teeth into his bottom lip in an attempt to regain some kind of control. It didn’t help—his hormones raged and the familiar tingle at the base of his spine was a dead giveaway.

  Looking as chilled out, as casual as possible, he turned to Shanna and whispered, “You’d better get that tissue ready—otherwise I’m going to make an awful mess.”

  She gave a single nod of understanding and moved her other hand beneath the jacket, slowly, languidly. It probably looked as though she was just changing position, rather than anything naughtier. Ryan, however, was at the stage where he didn’t care. If anyone happened to look across, happened to confront them, he’d hold a hand up to keep them quiet until he finished.

  Nothing of the sort happened. Shanna’s hand brought him to the edge then teased him over it, leaving him with clenched fists and a tightened jaw as he shot his load into the tissue she’d cupped over the head of his cock.

  After a few seconds, as his prick ceased its leaping and twitching, he finally relaxed, giving Shanna a brief nod to let her know he was done. He began to get his clothes straight again. She grinned, carefully pulling away from him, then murmuring that she was off to the on-board toilet.

  He hoped for her sake that there wasn’t a queue. Standing in line holding a spunk-filled tissue would be far from pleasant.

  Closing his eyes, he told himself it was just for a moment, just a few seconds of rest.

  The next thing he knew, there was a load of commotion as everyone prepared to disembark the coach.

  “Come on, sleepyhead.” Shanna nudged him. “We’re here.”

  He gave her a dopey smile and followed her out into the aisle, then helped her to get her bag from the overhead storage before grabbing his own. They exited the vehicle, finding Kristian and Taryn waiting for them.

  “Hey,” Kristian said, giving Ryan’s shoulder a playful punch, “took some waking up, didn’t you? Were you having sexy dreams or something?”

  Ryan rolled his eyes. He’d had real-life sex—well, foreplay—before he’d fallen asleep. Why on earth would he then have hot dreams? No unconscious activity, however erotic, could beat the real thing. “No, I just dropped off, that’s all. Now shut up. Let’s go. The hostel is across town.”

  Ryan, Kristian, Shanna and Taryn pulled their respective bags onto their backs and made for the nearest Metro station. The girls were staying at the same hostel as them—as organized before leaving Paris—and they’d probably go for dinner together that night, but after that they’d made no concrete plans. Ryan, for one, had some culture on his itinerary. It was his first time in Rome and he intended to make the most of it.

  They arrived at the shared dorm late—so late that they murmured good nights to one another to avoid waking the other inhabitants and carefully made their way to their respective beds in the darkness. After changing, Ryan fell asleep almost instantly, into a deep and dreamless slumber.

  He awoke to the sensation of a body pressed against his—a curvy, feminine body—and a hand around his shaf
t, teasing it to tumescence. Letting out a gasp that sounded more like a groan, he found his mouth immediately covered by a hand.

  “Shh,” the voice said. The hand continued stroking his cock, which was almost fully hard, “it’s me.”

  In his still half-asleep state he came to the conclusion that Shanna was tossing him off in a mixed-sex dormitory and they could be caught at any moment. The chick really was addicted to crazy, risky sex. Just then she began to shift positions and he heard a slight crackling noise before she rolled a rubber down his cock, then straddled him and slid onto it. She was wet, red-hot and eager. Rocking slowly on his dick, she pushed her hands under the T-shirt he slept in and caressed his torso, occasionally letting her nails scratch the naked flesh. He wanted to moan, to cuss, to grab her hips and buck roughly up into her until they both yelled their climaxes, but he couldn’t. Not unless he wanted to wake up a room full of people. He wasn’t sure if there was a law against this kind of thing, but he didn’t want to take any chances and end up in an Italian jail.

  So he made do with a hand on her hip and a hand between her thighs, rolling, pinching and rubbing at the swollen nubbin of flesh there. Shanna did a remarkable job of keeping quiet, though he noticed she’d begun breathing more heavily when he started touching her there.

  Shifting slightly faster on his cock, grinding harder onto him, it seemed the redhead was growing closer and closer to orgasm. Part of Ryan wondered if perhaps he was dreaming—a delicious, sexy, dirty dream. But the sounds—despite their quiet nature—the sensations, the fact his balls were about to explode, made him think otherwise. He really did just have a bit of a nymphomaniac as a temporary fuck-buddy. He was an incredibly lucky man and he made the decision that, before the four of them parted ways, he would pay Shanna back somehow. Maybe he’d fuck her in the Colosseum or the Vatican. That ought to appeal to her penchant for danger shags.

  His thoughts—however shallow and sordid—were soon wiped out when his orgasm approached. The pleasure centered on his cock and balls radiated throughout his body, leaving him with a sense of euphoria before pulling back into his crotch once more. He managed to hold out for just a few seconds more, and as soon as he sensed Shanna was teetering on the knife-edge of her own climax, he allowed himself to come, continuing to rub her clit as he did so. Heaven knew how he managed it, but he did. He pressed his lips together tightly to stop himself making a sound, which grew even more difficult as Shanna’s cunt began to ripple around his shaft, gripping and releasing him with strength and speed.

  Soon—too soon, in his opinion—he finished coming and the blissful feelings dissipated. He relaxed, sinking more heavily into the mattress beneath him. He had no idea what the redhead planned to do next, but he didn’t mind either way. Cuddle or scarper, he was really too tired to care.

  For the second time in two days, he awoke to the sound of other people moving around. He opened his eyes, stretched languidly, then glanced down to see if his bottom half was covered up. He couldn’t quite remember what had happened after he and Shanna had fucked, and for all he knew he could be flashing his morning-glory-hard cock to everyone in the room, still encased in the rubber.

  Thankfully that didn’t seem to be the case. The thin sheet was pulled up to his bellybutton, and a subtle hand down his shorts revealed his hard-on was free of protection. So she’d fucked him, taken off the condom and pulled his shorts up. What a woman!

  Sitting up slowly, he looked around to see who out of their little group was still asleep. It seemed the girls were up and out. Kristian was firmly in the land of nod, his mouth wide open, snoring a little. After waiting for his erection to go away, Ryan slipped out of bed, walked over and gave Kristian a nudge to wake him, then grabbed his stuff and headed out to queue for the bathroom.

  Chapter Two

  Half an hour or so later, he was heading to the café where the four of them had agreed to meet for breakfast. It was directly across the road from the hostel and was a bar-cum-restaurant type place. A bit of a mish-mash, but they didn’t care.

  His stomach rumbled—he was definitely ready for something to eat. He pushed the door open and walked in, and a shiver went through him as the air-conditioning unit pushed freezing air right down the back of his neck. They were expecting a hot day, then, if they had the air-conditioning on already.

  He looked around and spotted Shanna and Taryn, already tucking into some food. He made his way over to them.

  “Morning, ladies,” he said, slipping onto one of the spare stools. “How are you both today?” He glanced at Taryn, then fixed his gaze on Shanna, waiting for some kind of acknowledgment of what had happened the previous night. Or earlier that morning—he wasn’t sure what time it had been.

  She grinned back at him. “I’m good, thanks. Sorry we didn’t wait for you guys, but we were ravenous and we’re heading over to Castel Sant’Angelo today. We’ve heard it’s best to get there early to avoid the queues.” There was nothing other than fondness, than politeness in her words or her gaze—she was obviously very good at keeping a straight face.

  He nodded. “Sounds great. I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet—there’s just so much!” He glanced at Taryn now and was surprised to see a huge smile on her face—much bigger than he’d have expected given what he was saying. She looked as though he’d just told her the funniest joke ever written and she was holding back a hysterical laugh. He smiled back uneasily, and it was only when she gave him an outlandish wink that the penny dropped.

  Fuck! It hadn’t been Shanna who had seduced him in the night at all, it had been Taryn. His cock stirred beneath the table as he thought about what happened, relived it in his mind. Now he thought about it, he probably should have known. He’d slept with both girls—at the same time, in fact—and there were no exclusivities between them, no secrets. It was just that he was more often with Shanna and Taryn went with Kristian. She’d obviously fancied a change—either that or she couldn’t wake Kristian up so instead he’d gotten lucky. Either way it didn’t matter. It had been an intense lay—so hot, so quiet, and ever so slightly different to Shanna. He couldn’t quite put his finger on the differences, especially since he’d been half-asleep at the time and not exactly paying attention to detail, but they were there.

  Taryn’s grin had dimmed somewhat, until he returned it with a wink. That seemed to please her and, job done, he reached for the breakfast menu.

  Just then, Kristian ambled up to their table and sat down, totally oblivious to what was going on. Ryan would fill him in once the girls had gone. Or maybe not. He didn’t want to seem like he was bragging or anything.

  “Morning, mate,” Ryan said, clapping his friend on the back. “How you doing?”

  “Morning, Ry. Morning, ladies. I’m all right. You?”

  “Splendid. I’m going for the biggest breakfast they do. I’m ravenous.”

  “I won’t bother looking at the menu, then. That sounds great. And so does coffee.”

  “Yes, coffee.”

  A waiter arrived at their table, pen and notepad poised. Ryan and Kristian spoke almost no Italian, so lots of pointing at the menu and making gestures commenced.

  “Christ,” Ryan said, running a hand through his hair, “we could end up with anything, here. It’s a good job I’m hungry.”

  Taryn waved a hand dismissively. “He did just fine with our orders. We are in tourist central, after all. I’m sure he understood you.”

  Ryan nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. So you two are going toCastel Sant’Angelotoday. What about you, Kris?”

  His friend shrugged. “Um, as long as you’re not going to another bloody art gallery, I suppose I’ll go wherever you’re going. You’re quite good at the itinerary malarkey.”

  “Gee, thanks. And you make it sound like I’ve been to a million art galleries since we left home. I’ve been to one Kris, just one! Stop whinging, otherwise I’ll leave you to fend for yourself.”

  Kristian rolled his eyes. “I did all right ge
tting to Paris, didn’t I? I’m sure I could manage.”

  “Well, whatever. I can’t be bothered to discuss this with you anymore. But as it happens I was thinking of going to Ostia Antica today, not one of the many, many galleries in Rome.”

  “What the hell is Ostia Antiques?”

  Ryan caught the look on his friend’s face and wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “Ostia Antica is an ancient Roman settlement—it’s what used to be the port city. They used to send goods like grain and stuff up to Rome on barges. But the sea level has retreated and the river has changed course, so it’s no longer at the mouth of the river. But I’ve heard it’s really cool.”

  “Actually, that does sound pretty good. Though it’s beyond me how you remember all this stuff. I bet you know how old it is, don’t you?”

  “Maybe. What can I say? I’m not just a pretty face.”

  Ryan was saved from some ribbing from his friend by the arrival of their breakfast. It was indeed what they’d asked for, and was joined seconds later by their coffee.

  “Oh, yum,” Ryan said, rubbing his hands together. “This looks delicious.”

  “It’s huge, though. We might be here until lunchtime finishing it all.”

  “I’m sure we’ll manage. Plus we can’t hang around too long if we want to get the train out to Ostia.”

  “Hey, guys,” Shanna interrupted their exchange. “We’re leaving now, but here’s the money for our food, okay?” She held up a bunch of euros and put them down in the middle of the table. “That should be about right, but if it’s more we’ll give it to you in a bit. Catch you later.”

  They exchanged goodbyes and both men watched as the women walked across the restaurant and out of the door. “Bloody hell,” Kristian said, turning to his friend, “those girls are so hot. If circumstances were different…”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve thought something pretty similar myself. But they’re not, unfortunately. Come on, eat up.” He didn’t want to continue that particular conversation any longer. It sounded as if it might ruin their trip.

 

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