Felicia

by S. J. Lewis

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Felicia

  by S J Lewis

  ISBN: 978-1-937831-72-1

  A Pink Flamingo Ebook Publication

  Copyright © 2012, All rights reserved

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means, including mechanical, electronic, photocopying recording or otherwise without prior written permission of the publishers.

  For information contact:

  Pink Flamingo Publications

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  Chapter One

  The sun was warm, the air full of light breezes and the sound of the low surf was repetitive and soothing. Felicia stirred, face down on the oversized towel she’d spread out on the sand, half asleep and feeling quite pleased with herself. She really should have come to Europe sooner. Back home in the States, she was just one more young college student, easily lost in the crowd. But here, thanks to her Midwestern good looks, she was regarded as something exotic, mysterious and infinitely desirable. Men drooled over her honey-blonde hair, her lithe young body and her long, lovely legs. They looked into her guileless blue eyes, they fantasized about kissing her full-lipped mouth, they practically fell over each other trying to attract her attention and, once they had managed to do that, tried to impress her, often by bestowing her with gifts.

  She didn’t really understand it clearly. There were plenty of other pretty young women around. Privately, she thought a lot of them were prettier than she was. But none of them were from the US, and that seemed to make all the difference to the men. She supposed that you could take just about any pretty young woman from here, drop her somewhere in the States, and have the men there make fools of themselves over her. It was an interesting notion.

  The sun grew warmer on her bare back. She was so very, very comfortable that it took a huge effort for her to rouse herself, but she’d spent quite enough time to maintain her glowing golden tan. If she stayed out here any longer she might burn. Sleepily, she groped for the strings to her bikini top, found them, and somehow managed to knot them back together. Then she rose up onto her hands and knees, holding that pose for a moment for the benefit of any man who might be watching her. She knew that there had to be some.

  There were other women on the beach, of course. Many of them were young and pretty. Most of those young and pretty ones strolled about topless. She could do that too, but didn’t for a number of reasons. One was that doing so would ruin the tan lines she’d cultivated so carefully. Marcello seemed to like them very much, and right now it was important and profitable, to keep him happy. Another was that if every other girl was going topless, the one who wasn’t had men speculating over what she might look like if she was topless. And finally, while the pretty, young, topless women all sported pert, perky little A- or B-cup breasts, hers were full, round, ripe C-cups. They were nice and firm, and she wanted to keep them that way for as long as she could. This meant that she and gravity were never going to be friends. In fact, gravity was her relentless mortal enemy and she had to use whatever she could to fight it. Besides, the right top could enhance her appearance and move men from speculation to drooling. She liked it when men noticed her that way. She really, really liked it.

  She stood up, slowly brushing imaginary sand from her hips and legs and firm, round ass. That also attracted male attention. It bothered Marcello when she did that, but he wouldn’t be here for a little while yet. Even if he had been here, she probably would have done it anyway. It kept him on his toes, knowing that there were plenty of other wealthy men interested in his exotic American playmate who would quickly step into his place if she found any reason to reject him. So he showered her with expensive little gifts and paid close attention to her moods and desires. And when they went to bed, he was very, very considerate of her other wants and desires. To be fair, she was almost as considerate of his, as long as he understood that she did not grant her favors lightly. It didn’t take much to keep him happy. She suspected that his wife, a tall, thin, elegant and much older woman, wasn’t as much fun in bed as she was. Felicia had never met the woman, but she’d seen some photographs and had once viewed her from a safe distance. But Marcello stayed with his wife because she controlled the wealth. Felicia understood that and was perfectly happy with the arrangement.

  She stooped gracefully to pick up her towel and the cute little wicker basket that contained her beach things, threw the towel over her shoulder and straightened up just as gracefully. She smiled as she made her way towards some beach chairs sitting in the shade. She walked slowly, placing each foot directly in front of the other. It made her hips sway very seductively and attracted even more male attention. As she walked, she reached up and freed her hair from its ponytail, then shook her head. She had gorgeous hair, long and thick. It fell as far as the middle of her back in long, loose curls. Marcello had told her that her hair always made her look as if she had just gotten out of bed after a long night of sweet lovemaking. It was already too late for her to get back to college in time for the next semester, but she was enjoying her current circumstances far too much to feel badly about it. Besides, back at college the weather would be turning cold. All too soon everything would be covered in a thick blanket of snow. She had never liked cold weather. She had always hated snow and the cold, gray, boring days that it brought. But here it stayed sunny and warm all the time. Here she lived a life of ease, like some pampered pet. She loved it, and she meant to enjoy it all to the fullest. She knew that it could not last forever. It had to end sometime. But she was young, and that ending was a long way off. So she lived in the here and now, which she found quite pleasant.

  She spread her towel out on the beach chair and stretched slowly and thoroughly before settling down. Once she was seated, she pretended to adjust her bikini, then took the dark sunglasses out of the basket and put them on. There was a paperback in the basket too, but she didn’t feel like reading just now. Behind the dark glasses, she could survey everyone on the beach today without any of them noticing. She rather liked doing that.

  Today was no different than most days. There were roughly two men on the beach for every one topless girl. While the girls all looked like they were in their late teens or early twenties, the men seemed to range from that age bracket up into their early fifties. Most of them were pretty fit. Felicia guessed that the ones who weren’t particularly buff had to be the wealthier ones. Large quantities of money had a sex appeal all their own.

  “Bonjour, mademoiselle.”

  Felicia looked up to see a tall, tanned young man smiling down at her. His black hair was wet and slicked back, his hard body glistening in the sun. He must have come out of the sea directly over to her. She let her eyes roam over his wide shoulders, his swimmer’s physique and the faint but distinct six-pack of his belly. He was quite attractive in a fiery Latin way, but not old enough to suit her. Even if his family had money, he was too young to have any control over any of it himself.

  “Je ne parle Francais, monsieur,” she replied with as bored a voi
ce as she could muster. She waved a hand as if to shoo him away. In fact, she could speak French, not well but enough to get by, but she didn’t want to be drawn into a conversation with this boy.

  “Italiano?” he persisted hopefully. Felicia simply shook her head.

  “Anglais?”

  This was getting tiresome. She didn’t know if he could actually speak English or was just trying whatever he could think of to stay close to the pretty blonde woman. It didn’t matter. She didn’t want a conversation in her own halting French, and she certainly didn’t want one in his fumbling English. She made a more vigorous ‘go away’ motion with her hand.

  At least he was able to take ‘no’ for an answer. He smiled ruefully and gave an unmistakably Gallic shrug before turning away and trotting off. Felicia watched him go. His ass was as nice as the rest of him, trim and tight, but she was pretty sure that that hard young body was his only asset. She snickered softly and relaxed. Marcello would be here soon. He had promised her. She’d already treated him to one towering tantrum when he’d failed to show up when he’d promised before. He’d been properly chastened and humbled, but had to buy her an expensive bracelet before she would consent to makeup sex. The whole experience had been very pleasant for her, but quite unpleasant for him… except for the sex part, anyway. But sometimes that’s what it took to properly train a man. Now she was reasonably sure that he would keep any promise that he made to her, no matter what.

  Secure behind the sunglasses, she looked out across the expanse of beach to the blue water of the sea beyond. She loved going to the beach, even back in the States. Going into the water was another matter. The Atlantic was far too rough and cold for her. The Gulf was usually too warm and still, with crabs and stingrays lurking invisibly in the fine sand. Here, the water was just right for a quick dip, neither too rough nor too shallow for a bit of swimming. Even here, though, she never felt like swimming all that often.

  She saw a pair of young women striding along the sand, lithe and lovely, both with long, dark hair, both of them wearing nothing but tiny little bikini bottoms. They were smiling, chatting back and forth, but spending more time looking around to see if any men were noticing them than they did looking at each other. Felicia smiled to herself. They were pretty enough, but the beach was full of girls who looked very much like they did. It would be hard for either of them to stand out in that crowd. Going topless didn’t help when there were so many perky little boobs already on display.

  She settled back more comfortably on the beach chair, one leg stretched out straight, the other with the knee bent and raised. She supposed that the first young woman who had dared to go topless on a beach had done so in order to stand out and get attention. No doubt she’d succeeded so well that pretty soon all of the other adventurous young women were going topless too. It was like that with belly rings back home. At first they were new and exotic enough that men were drawn to the women who wore them. Then over time they’d become more and more common, then more and more elaborate, until now some of them looked like tiny dangling chandeliers. Even so, they were too common now to attract the attention that that first simple ring had.

  Her smile widened. The way to attract attention was to stand out from the competition. It was really very simple. Sitting here with her long, curling blonde hair, and not topless, she managed to do that.

  “Have you been waiting long, my dear?”

  Felicia looked up and smiled as she recognized Marcello’s smooth baritone. His appearance matched his voice. He was tall, fit and handsome, with dark hair cut medium length and slicked back. Really, sometimes he reminded her of an American movie stereotype of a southern European man in his mid thirties.

  “Not at all, darling,” she replied as she reached up for him. His smile grew as he bent to kiss her. She put her arms around his neck and held him close to make the kiss last. He didn’t even try to pull away until she released him.

  “I had some business to attend to,” he said as he pulled another beach chair over next to hers.

  “But it seems that you had time to change your clothes,” she teased, pointing to his swim trunks, sandals and unbuttoned short-sleeved shirt.

  “I planned ahead, my dear,” he said as he seated himself facing her. “I always plan ahead for you.”

  “Really?” Felicia’s smile turned impish. “And what else have you planned?”

  He took her hand and kissed it, then kept hold of it. Whenever they were together he always wanted to keep in physical contact with her, skin to skin whenever possible. Sometimes she found it a little annoying, but not now.

  “Ah, I have planned a wonderful weekend for us,” he replied. “Sabina will be away until Monday, so we can spend those days together.” He leaned closer.

  “Tonight,” he smiled, “We will go to that nightclub that you like so much. We will drink champagne and dine on the most exquisite cuisine and dance until it is very, very late. And after that, we shall go to the little villa near the beach and…” he let his voice trail off as his smile became lecherous.

  “Oh?” Felicia countered coyly. “Did you plan for us to spend the whole weekend in the villa?”

  “No, of course not!” Marcello laughed. “That alone would not satisfy all of your voracious appetites, my dear. No, we will spend the evenings dining well, and the nights ‘clubbing’, as you call it, to be followed by lovemaking into the early morning hours. The rest of the time we can sleep.”

  “No shopping?” Felicia faked a pout. “I’ll need new ensembles for when we go dining and clubbing, you know.”

  “Ah, but there is an activity that I do not enjoy as much as you do,” Marcello said. “If you can find the time and the energy to go shopping – as I am sure that you will – I would ask you to let me stay at the villa and rest, for I am sure that I will need it.”

  Felicia laughed. “I will do that, my darling,” she said, patting his hand. “But when I return to the villa you must be awake and attentive while I try on my new clothes for you.”

  “But of course!” Marcello agreed quickly. “I love to do that. You always look so lovely in whatever you have chosen.”

  “But… Monday? What then?” Felicia asked.

  “Ah,” Marcello sighed heavily and shook his head slowly. “Sabina is scheduled to return that afternoon. So after that we must continue to meet at your charming little apartment, or in places like this.” For a moment, he sounded apprehensive, as if he expected her to complain. She could, and it would make him most unhappy and contrite, but it was all too possible to overdo the pampered, spoiled mistress act. If you make just enough trouble, it kept your lover on a short leash and you in control. If you make just the least bit too much, you become too much trouble and go from mistress to pretty young woman with no means of support in a foreign land, looking anxiously for a new sugar daddy. That could be awkward. Felicia knew that Marcello did the very best he could under the circumstances, and as long as he kept her in style she was willing to cut him a break.

  “It is a shame that your friends had to return home,” Marcello said. “I am afraid that you become lonely when I cannot be with you.”

  “Please, my darling,” Felicia looked at him over her sunglasses. “I can wait for you.” She thought that his real fear was that she would find some other playmate to occupy her lonely hours. That was understandable. But she was new to this kept woman business and it made her uneasy whenever she took an honest look at what she was doing. In order not to feel so uneasy, she had resolved to be true to Marcello for as long as she was with him. That was at least sort of honorable, though she could never bring the matter up with him. Marcello was living a deception, and she knew that people who did that started to think that everybody else was being just as deceptive as they were. If she protested her loyalty to him too much, in his mind he would only have more cause to mistrust her. She knew that he already had someone keeping an eye on her. She’d seen the man more than once, trailing her unobtrusively whenever she was out by her
self. He was small and kind of anonymous-looking in a balding, middle-aged way. She supposed that he was good at his job. If it hadn’t been for all the spy movies and detective shows she’d watched that gave her useful tips, she never would have been able to spot him. At first she had been irate that Marcello didn’t trust her, but in the end she just accepted it as part of the deal. She didn’t really have a lot of experience to go by, and it seemed logical.

  “What are you thinking, my dear?” Marcello asked.

  ‘What?” Felicia was jolted back into the here and now. “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering what I should wear for you tonight. It would have to be something from my wardrobe. I just don’t feel motivated to go shopping today.”

  She saw something like relief in Marcello’s eyes. Her shopping trips were never cheap.

  “Perhaps that fetching black dress with the spaghetti straps?” he suggested.

  “The one with the skirt slit up both sides almost to my hips?” Felicia smiled. “And it’s backless, so I can’t wear a bra with it? That one?”

  “Yes, exactly!” Marcello nodded.

  “Well, it would be good for going clubbing, but don’t you think it’s a bit daring for dinner?” Felicia asked.

  “Nonsense!” Marcello responded. “You are a beautiful woman. It is a beautiful dress. You will enhance each other.”

  “Oh!” Felicia sat up suddenly.

  “What is it, my dear?”

  “My hair!” Felicia wailed, running her fingers through it. “I’ve been out in the sun all afternoon and it’s a mess! Oh, Marcello, I have to go to the salon! I just have to!”

  Chapter Two

  The nightclub was crowded, loud and bubbling with excitement. Most of the crowd was composed of young men and women, either sitting close together over drinks at the tiny round tables, twined together on the dance floor, or twined even more closely together in the darkness of the draped booths along the walls. Felicia was in one of the booths with Marcello, but they were not entwined. Marcello certainly wanted to be, but Felicia wanted to dance.