“I don’t believe in sex before marriage. It’s not a crime to want to wait for the right man, you know. You make it sound as if waiting is immoral,” I said, flushed. I felt as if I was abnormal or something.
“So what about Jeff, how many notches does he have on his belt?” Jackie asked, digging me in my side with her elbow. Before I could answer, Liz chimed in.
“Doesn’t Jeff pressure you for sex when you’re out together? He must be on you all the time. You’ve been together for near on two years. Has he even had a ‘whiff of it?’” Liz laughed at her own stupid joke.
“No, Jeff respects me. Not like the riff raff you go out with, Liz, with their, wham bam thank you ma’am. I’d be surprised when your time comes to get married if you can find a man you haven’t already sampled,” I said, meaning to cause offence.
However, Liz just laughed and said I was probably right.
“Well I think it’s weird Jeff hasn’t tried it on,” Jackie said. The look I gave made her blush, but she continued anyway, “What? I’m just saying that’s all.”
Looking back, I should have been more like my friends. Hindsight’s a bitch. When Jeff had confessed to me he was a virgin too, I thought, how sweet: we could learn together. How wrong was I? We were a fumbling mess, like schoolchildren playing at mummies and daddies. It took us a while to get the hang of things. It went downhill after we did discover where things went. Jeff would come immediately, feeling the warmth off my entrance. Sometimes he didn’t even have to get it in before he came.
It took months before he could control his premature ejaculation. After a while, he did learn to control it. But it didn’t get any better, because he’d finish seconds before me, which left me frustrated and bitter. I began to dread making love with him. However, at no time did I think I’d transmitted that vibe to Jeff until he mentioned it this morning. He’d never said anything before, he’d just let me alone. I felt so stupid, six years wasted when all I really had to do was tell him what I needed.
Yet, how did I do that when I didn’t know myself. I cleaned the kitchen then went to the study and opened up the laptop. Maybe I’d find something online that might help me make up my mind. Then I could tell Jeff tonight what I wanted. He did say we’d continue where we left off. I clicked onto the porn sites I’d heard Liz and Jackie talk about all the time. I’ve never watched a porn film before. I wondered how long they ran on for, as I glanced at my watch. It was grocery day and I wanted to miss the afternoon shoppers. I hated standing in long queues to pay for shopping.
I told myself I’d watch for an hour then leave to do my shopping. Thinking back, that was the worst thing I could possibly have done. With my lack of satisfaction the night before, I had a longing in my loins that needed to be sated.
The things I saw on the website made my body burn with desire. I felt my sweet spot throbbing with longing. I was a walking clustered of nerves, my nipples reacted to the lace of my bra. My snatch pulsated and contracted as I recalled the short movies I’d watched.
I switched off the computer and readied myself for shopping, feeling more aroused than ever.
I was tempted to stay home and practice masturbation like the woman I’d seen.
Just wishful thinking.
I was a few ingredients short for our evening meal. I had to go.
***
The task of shopping became a mission in itself. With my senses heightened, walking by the frozen food section had my nipples hardening, sending shock waves of desire and a carnal craving to my nether regions. I needed to do something about the way I felt. I became giddy and light headed. I had to get out of the supermarket and go home.
In my haste to get the shopping into the car, I caught the last bag against the boot lock. It ripped apart. I watched open mouthed as the contents scattered across the car park. I began to pick the items up, close to tears.
Jeff had fired something up in me that wouldn’t go away. Those movies only helped to make a bad situation worse. I was putting in some of the goods I’d retrieved when I heard an accented voice. “I think this is the last of it.”
I wiped my eyes as I gazed up at the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. He was tall and slim. Mediterranean looking, dark skinned with pale green eyes, shoulder length black hair and chiseled features with dimples. As I took the groceries from him, I noticed his hands. His fingers were long and perfectly manicured. Our hands touched and heat surged through my body. I staggered against my vehicle and he grabbed me.
“Are you alright?” he asked. The smile left his face, replaced by concern. Why was he concerned about me, a complete stranger? I couldn’t speak, my mouth opened and closed like a fish, my hormones were raging. I felt even more lightheaded than before. I swooned and his hand tightened about me, then nothing but darkness.
***
The sound of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons coursed through my subconscious mind, piercing its way into my consciousness. My eyes slowly flickered open. I was in unfamiliar surroundings and alone. The coat I wore was gone. I jack-knifed into a sitting position and noted my dress was raised to the top of my thighs. Nothing else seemed disturbed. I looked around the room. It was contemporary and very masculine. Everything had sharp lines in black, white, chrome or a combination of a least two of those colours.
The furnishings were a marked contradiction to the period of the Victorian style house, which had maintained some of its original features: The ostentatious, elaborate cast-iron fireplace and bay windows. My gaze followed the high polished wooden floor, the moulded border along the walls and around the hanging light. Yet, it worked well. I gazed around this room with the sterile white walls in search of my shoes, coat and bag.
It was weird, but I didn’t feel afraid even though I had no idea where I was or how I’d gotten there. What I felt was a glow of excitement in the pit of my stomach as I heard footsteps coming towards me. He stood in the doorframe. He’d changed into sweat pants and a vest top which accentuated his physique. My face reddened, and my breath quickened as I admired the bronze idol before me. My thoughts paraded all manner of illicit imagery across my mind’s eye.
Chapter Three
I swung my legs off the sofa onto the floor, but remained seated. “Who are you? How did I get here?” I asked, sure he could read the puzzled expression on my face.
“I’m Alessandro Agostino. You fell into my arms in the store car park. So I brought you to my home,” he said, leaning against the doorframe barefooted with his arms folded across his chest. A smile spread across his face. Damn, there should be a law against being so hot with dimples. The memories came flooding back and so did the feeling of wanting to feel fulfilled. My crotch moistened and my flush deepened.
“How do you feel now?” he asked as he moved towards me. “You gave me quite a fright, I can tell you.”
“I’m sorry,” I stuttered.
Having him so close to me set my pulse racing. I tugged at the hem of my dress, pulling it as far down as I could. I wanted to get up and leave, but my legs were like jelly.
“You didn’t have any identification with you except for your debit and library card. ‘Stacey Richardson.’ Sorry I had a look through your bag to see if there was anyone I should call.”
I looked towards my bag. Strange, I usually carried my driving license, as well as an emergency contact card, which came with the purse when I bought it. I’d thought it was a good idea and filled in my basic personal details: name, date of birth, allergies and my husband’s contact details. Then I noticed my wedding ring was also missing. I hadn’t put it back on after the washing up. I didn’t understand, I’d never forgotten to put it back on before.
“I must have left them in the car,” I said absently, mainly speaking to myself to rationalise why I didn’t have these things with me.
“No you didn’t, I looked there too when I brought your shopping over to my house.”
“You did what?” I was incredulous. “Why would you bring my shopping into your home?”
/> “It seemed like the logical thing to do at the time. You fainted. The things I saw in your boot needed to stay frozen. I had no idea how long you be out.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to appear ungrateful, but why didn’t you just call the emergency services?”
“I check your vital signs and you were okay. I saw no need to involve anyone else.”
“Are you a doctor?”
“No, but I have some medical training, and my diagnosis was you fainted. So, I brought you here.”
“Where exactly is here?” I was surprised it took me this long to ask the question of my whereabouts. Was I going mad? I was sitting in the home of a strange man; my groceries were in his freezer. He’d removed some of my clothing. Albeit only my coat and shoes. He had no business taking anything off me. He’d gone through my bag and car. Yet none of this appeared to faze me.
“I live across the street from the car park.”
I barely registered what he said, still a prisoner of my own thoughts.
I began to wonder, had I subconsciously planned this? I was without my wedding ring and appropriate identification. Something I’d never consciously do. I don’t even remember removing these items. The only thing I was sure of: my body was hot for this complete stranger. I needed to get out of there before I did something I couldn’t undo and regret for the rest of my life. I struggled to my feet and fell forward into Alessandro’s arms.
“I don’t know if I should take it as a compliment or condemnation, that the sight of me keeps you off your feet.” He smiled into my eyes, his arm holding me tight against his torso. My nipples hardened to the pressure of touching his chest. I pushed away hoping he hadn’t felt it too.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“If you apologise once more, I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”
“I’m sorry.” The words slipped out before I was conscious of even uttering them.
His lips found mine; his tongue forced my lips apart. My mouth opened to receive him. His tasted so sweet like caramel and chocolate. My hands moved to his hair as I dragged him in closer. As the kiss deepened, my body melted into his. My stomach flipped over to the quivering in my groin. Somewhere in the haze of my desire, I heard a voice say, this is wrong, you don’t even know this man.
I tried to push myself from within the circle of his arms, but I was either too weak or my body just didn’t want to respond, to separate from his. I loved how it felt when the pressure in his pants dug into me.
I finally tore my lips away and tried to put some distance between us, but only succeeded in falling back into the sofa.
“I can’t,” I said, and shook my head. “We mustn’t—I’m not…” I was about to tell him I wasn’t free to act this way. I was a married woman, this was wrong. But he joined me on the sofa and covered my face with tiny assured kisses, brushing my forehead, nose, cheeks and chin. I opened my mouth to protest. He covered my lips with his own.
I felt lost.
“Ti voglio,” he said, nibbling at my ear. “If you only knew how long I waited for this moment. Mia cara. I watched you from my study every week as you do your shopping.”
“You’ve been watching me? Every week!” This revelation gave me the strength I needed to push away from him. Was I in the home of my stalker? Still, the news did little to unsettle me. I was more curious than scared. This Adonis of a man had been watching me. A boring thirty eight year old homemaker dithering on the borders of middle age. There was nothing special about me. Plain in looks with mousy blond hair, my grey eyes and long dark eyelashes were my only redeeming features.
“Sì, cara, I watch you from upstairs at my study window. I see when your car enters the car park; then I go shopping too. I only buy a few things as I watch you walk around the store putting items into your basket from your list as you mumble to yourself. So many times I wanted to approach you. Today gave me that opportunity,” he said, absently stroking my hair. His desires burned into me as I gazed into his eyes
I felt surprised, yet flattered. How was it, I’d never noticed this Italian God before? Maybe I had and pretended not to. Otherwise, why am I here, minus my wedding band and ID? My body reacted to him sliding his hand up my leg until it reached my sweet spot. I sighed and fell backwards onto the sofa. His fingers traced the damp patch on the crotch of my panties and along my slit. All thoughts of being married, of Jeff, temporarily forgotten as I basked in the sensation running thorough my body.
My legs voluntarily separated to allow better access. I heard his sharp intake of air as his breathing became unsteady. “Mia Dio, la tua bellezza…” he whispered, pulling one of my legs onto his lap. He lowered his head to my knee and began kissing his way up my leg. The citrus scent of his aftershave and the pounding of my heart intoxicated me. A sense of euphoria crept up at me. I became giddy with the possibility of my snatch receiving special treatment twice, and by two different men in less than twenty-four hours.
Alessandro, raised my leg, which was nestled on his lap, and placed it over his shoulder and behind him onto the sofa as he moved between my legs and onto the floor in front of me. Pushing my legs farther apart, he shoved his face between them, covering my snatch with his mouth over the material of my panties. I gasped as he rubbed his face from side to side with the crotch of my panties between his teeth.
The sensation was like nothing I’d ever experienced; his hot breath against the material of my panties warmed me. It was amazing. He stopped, sliding his tongue up and down my slit to my crack, over the fabric lingering there. Shifting my panties aside his tongue darted in and out of my arse. I began to squeal, my voice sounded foreign to my ears. Goosebumps travelled over my flesh. My legs now on his shoulders. I grabbed his head, the silken strands laced between my fingers as I bucked forward pulling his head still deeper. As my orgasm approached, my toes curled and I began to gyrate about his head.
Alessandro left his ministration of my arse and moved to find my clit. He nibbled and sucked on my tender flesh. My mind skyrocketed to another dimension as the floodgates to my desires opened and released sixteen years of pent up desire gushing into his face, soaking my panties. My cries of ecstasy were extreme. It’s a wonder no one called the police to complain and have them check out the disturbance.
Alessandro’s hand attempted to pull down my panties. I grabbed his hands. “No please. I’d like to keep them on. I’m too nervous to remove them.” He looked at me with understanding. “It’s okay, I can work around them,” he said, and moved back to the sofa. He removed his sweat pants and rolled a condom onto his perfect penis. I watched as he struggled to pull the latex over his long, thick phallus. It looked too small, but he managed to stretch it. Leaving what looked like a little cap on top. I smiled, it reminded me of the Royal Guards standing on guard outside Buckingham Palace, in that little box.
I’ve only ever seen one other penis up close in real life and that was Jeff’s. Alessandro’s cock was so different. It didn’t have that extra skin Jeff’s had or those sticky out veins. It was as thick as Jeff’s, but looked terrifyingly longer. I wondered if I’d be able to accommodate such a monster cock. My throbbing snatch was aching to find out. Alessandro glanced towards me now he’d finished covering his dick with rubber.
“Do you want to touch it, cara?” he cooed, his accent became more apparent as his arousal intensified. “Voglio sentire il tuo tocco leggero sul mia cazzo.”
I had no idea what he’d said, but it sounded as sexy as hell. It was like music to my ears and set my juices flowing all over again. My body had never felt so alive. He took my hand, stroking it up and down his length. It sent shock waves up my arm, through my spine and settled in my centre. I could barely fit my hand around him. He lay back on the sofa, sighing with his eyes closed as I gently stroked him.
“Continua a toccarmi così. Don’t stop,” he said, covering my hand with his own.
Chapter Four
“Vieni, dolcezza, lascia che mi prenda cura di te.” He
said as he lifted me towards him.
“English please, I don’t understand,” I said, trembling at his words. I may not have understand the meaning of the words coming out of his mouth, but I understood what the glint in his eyes meant. It would translate in any language. The smooth deep tones of his voice relaxed me. Its slow Italian drawl aroused me. I was hot and I was ready.
“Come, I will care for you. I will hear you scream my name from your lips.” He set me down to straddle him as he moved the crotch of my panties to the side.
I placed my hand against his shoulder. “Sorry Alessandro I can’t do this facing you.”
“This is not a problem.” He turned me around so I was facing away from him. “Place your hands on my knee, cara, for balance. I will do the rest.” His voice thickened and deepened with anticipation, his accent stronger as I leaned forward and bent towards him. He pulled me back to him, his fingers exposed my crotch as he teased my panties to the side and hovered me over his fat tool.
Gently sliding me down to sit on him.
As I felt him stretch my entrance, my mind immediately went to Jeff. It was Jeff I could see and feel filling me up. I slithered a little further down on his member.
“Easy, cara, you are as tight as a virgin, we are going to have to take it slower so I do not hurt you.” He groaned in surprise. “La tua figa è così fottutamente stretta. I love it,” he said as he took control of my hips, rocking me back and forth, bringing me down onto him a little at a time. The more he pressed into me the more Jeff’s image appeared in front of me as a hologram.
This projected vision of Jeff was leaning against the fireplace with his dick in his hand, wanking as he watched the hot, sexy Italian fuck the living daylight out of me. He was smiling at me, accepting I had another man’s cock stuffed inside me. He nodded and licked his lips. The image got me so turned on, I forgot what Alessandro had said about taking it slow. The image I had in my head of my husband watching me being fucked by another, made my cavern sodden as the juice flowed from my body like heavy rain.
A Question Of Size: Stacey's Story (The Right Fit Series Book 1) Page 2
