Felicia

by S. J. Lewis

  “Please, darling,” she coaxed as Marcello ran a hand slowly up her thigh. “I spent simply hours at the salon to look beautiful for you tonight. Don’t you want to show me off?”

  Marcello nibbled at her ear, which was awkward because of the big gold hoop earrings she was wearing. “I think it is you who wants to show you off,” he purred. “But I thought I had made it very clear to you that I truly appreciate how much time you spent making yourself even more beautiful for tonight. Can you not tell how ravishing I find you?” He took Felicia’s slim-fingered hand in his and guided it to his crotch. “Can you not tell?” he asked again, his breath warm and moist on her neck. Felicia shivered at the sensation. She left her hand in his lap after he let go of it and stroked the bulge in his expensive Italian slacks gently.

  “But, darling,” she said softly, “you’re a little bit drunk. You had a little too much to drink at dinner. And you had more to drink here. If you come and dance with me, it will give you the time and exercise you need to work off all that alcohol, so that when you take me to bed you’ll be able to appreciate it all the more.” She squeezed the bulge gently and went on in a low, purring voice. “I can promise that it will be memorable.” She thought that she sounded a bit corny, but Marcello seemed to like it when she spoke to him like that. The plain fact was that if they left now, her lover stood an excellent chance of falling asleep on the ride to the beachfront villa. The driver could help her get him inside, but even if she could waken him once they were there the mood she had been carefully cultivating all evening would be gone beyond recall. It had happened once before, leaving her incredibly frustrated. Whether Marcello knew it or not, when he did something as crude as moving her hand to his crotch it excited her immensely. He was usually so smooth and urbane and sophisticated she was sure that when he did things like that it was because he found her so very, very desirable that he just couldn’t help himself. But perhaps tonight she had gone a little too far in making herself beautiful, succeeding so well that all Marcello wanted to do was fuck her. She was looking forward to that part of the evening, of course, but she was nineteen – or she would be in a couple of months – and she wanted to enjoy herself in all the other ways available to her. Right now, she wanted to dance.

  “It is always memorable with you, Felicia,” Marcello said, his words slightly slurred. “So why should we wait any longer? I want you now, my darling.”

  This wasn’t working. Felicia slipped away from her lover, smiling seductively at him the whole time so that he wouldn’t get huffy.

  “I have an idea,” she said. “Why don’t you sit here and watch me dance for you?”

  “Truly?” Marcello seemed confused, but not entirely against her idea.

  “Yes,” Felicia replied. “I will do my very best to seduce you into dancing with me. But you must stop drinking anything but sparkling water from now on. Agreed?”

  “Yes, yes!” Marcello nodded emphatically. “It will be as you say. I want very much to see you dance for me.”

  Felicia immediately rose and walked the few steps to the edge of the dance floor. This part wasn’t too crowded, and the band was playing something nice and slow. They usually played sets of five songs and had just started their third. After that, they would take a break and the club’s resident DJ would crank up some Euro-techno-stuff with a fast, driving beat. Felicia hoped that Marcello would be in a proper state to take her home before that happened. She was wearing the dress that Marcello had suggested to please him, and she did look incredible in it, but she could not wear a bra with it at all. If she tried to dance to anything fast, her breasts would shake and wobble and there was a real danger that they might slip out.

  She turned to face her lover. He was sitting with his elbows on the table, looking alert and expectant. She smiled slyly at him once and then turned her back to him and began dancing. She let herself drift along with the slow, sensuous beat of the music, raising her arms up over her head and setting her feet well apart in the expensive black pumps she had bought that afternoon. The dress slid away from her legs, baring them to mid thigh as she began to sway her hips slowly from side to side. She only made small movements at first, but gradually they became larger and more sweeping until her upper body began swaying in the opposite direction as her hips. She hoped that it was holding Marcello’s attention, but she still had her back to him. She could see other men watching her, though, as well as some women. It was time to turn around and make it clear to her growing audience that she was doing this for one particular man, and not to attract the attentions of many men. Still, she couldn’t help smiling at the thought that so many other men were finding her desirable. She tried not to think about the women who had been eying her so speculatively.

  Marcello looked utterly entranced. She smiled at him, hoping that she had the right mix of sweetness and sensuality. From his answering smile, she thought that she’d succeeded. Her blonde hair was coiled atop her head in the elegant style the hairdresser had selected for her, and for a moment she thought about undoing it so that those long, loose curls that Marcello found so fascinating would tumble about her shoulders. But it felt warm and humid in the club now, and it would be even more so for her with her hair down, so she left it up, even though she knew how loose hair would enhance how she looked while she danced. She let her arms fall slowly and gracefully to her sides and lowered her head as she swayed to the beat.

  The song ended. Felicia stayed where she was, still moving slightly, still with her head down. She could feel Marcello’s eyes on her, and that was exciting. She could also feel other men’s eyes on her, and that was also exciting. It felt as if she had some mystical power to compel men to watch her. It was intoxicating, to be the object of so much desire. Then the music started up again. She raised her head to look at Marcello. He was still at the table, leaning forward on his elbows, his eyes bright, his expression avid. She reached out one hand to him. He almost toppled the table over in his haste to get to her, and quickly she was wrapped up in his arms and he was kissing her with a passion that she hadn’t felt in him since their first night together. She began to sway again in time to the music, and Marcello had to sway with her. What they were doing wasn’t exactly dancing, but she didn’t care. She was content to wait until Marcello had to breathe and break the kiss. She smiled up at him.

  “Dance with me,” she said. “Just hold me and dance with me for a little while longer.”

  Marcello said nothing, but he loosened his grip on her just enough for them to dance as she had wanted. She leaned her head against his shoulder and smelled his cologne.

  “You have bewitched me, Felicia,” he murmured.

  “Mmmmmm…” she purred. “That is exactly what I was trying to do.”

  “You have done the same to many of the other men here as well,” he continued. “I consider myself to be extremely fortunate.”

  “As do I, my darling,” Felicia said happily. “I could dance with you like this forever.”

  “Ah, but I could not,” he said. “I desire you. You must know that. When this dance is over, we will go to the villa, and there we will do a very different dance together.”

  Felicia had intended to stay longer than that, at least until the band had finished their set. But Marcello seemed to have recovered from his earlier drinking far more quickly than she would have thought possible, and in truth she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  “As you say, Marcello,” she agreed. “But I do not think we will need a band for that.”

  He laughed, and slowly spun her around. As Felicia’s eyes swept across the club, she thought that she saw a familiar face. It looked like the man she had spotted following her before, but her glimpse was too fleeting, the lighting too uncertain for her to be sure. When Marcello spun her around again, she looked to the shadowy alcove where she had seen him. All she saw was a young couple talking animatedly to each other over the drinks they held in their hands. There was no sign of the man. Had she just imagined him? S
he must have. There was no reason for the man to follow her as long as she was with Marcello, was there? No, of course not. She thought of mentioning the matter to Marcello yet again, and yet again decided against it. She had nothing to hide, but if Marcello wanted to ease his mind by having her watched while he was not around, she didn’t really mind. Anyway, she was in Europe. They probably did things like this all the time.

  By the time the song ended, she was more than ready to go to the villa with Marcello. Her flesh felt very, very warm wherever he touched her, her skin was tingling, and her head felt oddly heavy. She could recognize the signs of her own arousal. When Marcello took her by the hand and started to lead her away out of the club, she didn’t resist at all.

  Stepping from the warmth and noise of the club out into the cooler, quieter night air helped to clear her head, but only a little. She waited as her lover called for their driver to take them to the villa. She’d only been there once before. Usually, the trysts they shared were at the cozy little apartment he had gotten for her back in the town. It was comfortable and plushly appointed, but compared to the opulence of the villa it might as well have been a bare-bones efficiency apartment back in Louisville. The villa had no less than three bedrooms, each with its own magnificent bathroom. There was a broad veranda that overlooked the beach, with a hot tub at one end. There was even a small permanent staff at the place, no more than a cook and a maid, both heavy, older women who seemed to take everything in stride. Felicia had no idea if they approved or disapproved of her coming there, but they both seemed to like Marcello immensely, so Felicia assumed that it was all right. It had occurred to her the one time she’d been there before that for all Marcello knew his wife brought her own lovers there whenever he wasn’t around. That was another thing she never brought up to him.

  Their car was practically a limousine, large and quiet and comfortable. The driver was separated from the passenger compartment by a retractable screen, and once he had raised it after getting his instructions, Marcello was all over her, his lips eagerly seeking out hers, his hands roaming at will over her body, both over and under her elegant dress. All she could think of to do in return was to put her hand on his crotch and stroke the impressive bulge there. She shivered and shuddered and giggled girlishly as he took the most outrageous liberties, her excitement growing. She felt his hand slip under her dress to fondle her breast, his fingers seeking out her nipple. It was already swollen and wonderfully sensitive and she squealed as he tweaked it lightly.

  “Now I know why you wanted me to wear this dress,” she said breathlessly between ardent kisses.

  “Soon I will want you to not be wearing it,” he replied just as breathlessly. “In fact, I want to start undressing you now.” Felicia wasn’t sure what he meant until she felt his other hand, also under her dress, grip the waistband of the tiny bikini panties she wore and start to pull. She giggled again, but made no move to help him.

  “Please, my darling,” he gasped into her ear, and Felicia relented. She raised her hips up off of the padded leather seat and stayed like that as he fumbled the panties down. Once they were past her hips she settled back down as he slid them down her long legs. He let go of her just long enough to get the panties completely off of her. He flourished them once triumphantly before thrusting them into a pocket of his jacket. Then he was at her again, kissing and fondling. Felicia felt gloriously wicked and decadent as his fingers brushed through the curly blonde hairs of her pussy. She had spoken with him about shaving or waxing, but he had told her that he much preferred at least a bit of hair down there, so she had settled for trimming it so that it wouldn’t show while she was wearing a bikini to the beach. Now she appreciated how his touch could tickle and tease her so wonderfully without actually making contact with her skin.

  By the time they arrived at the villa, she was so aroused that she felt a little drunk herself. Marcello had to help her out of the car, had to help her stand as he paid off the driver, even had to help her walk up the winding path to the entrance of the villa. The lights were already on, and as they passed between the flowering hedges that bordered the path Felicia saw the front door swing open. She was too far gone to be able to tell which of the two servants had opened the door. The light was behind the woman, putting her face in shadow. Marcello guided Felicia through the doorway and then up the wide staircase to the bedrooms above. He all but carried her the last few steps. She had one brief worry that the woman below could see that she wasn’t wearing any panties and immediately dismissed it. She was a servant, and what did it matter what she thought of the antics of her employer and his American mistress?

  “This way,” Marcello said as he led her along the hallway. “The master bedroom opens towards the sea. We will make love to the sound of the surf.”

  That sounded wonderful to Felicia. She had been in the master bedroom on her one previous visit here, and remembered the huge, comfortable bed, the sliding glass doors that opened out onto the wide, shaded balcony. Marcello laid her down gently onto that bed, then left her briefly to throw open those doors. She felt a breath of night air that carried a tang of salt with it, heard the sound of the surf, and then Marcello was with her again, carefully but quickly removing her dress. She helped him as best she was able to and soon she was naked except for her jewelry and her expensive black pumps. Marcello stood over her, his eyes drinking in the soft loveliness of her body. She wished that she could see herself through his eyes. The way he looked at her was as if he was gazing upon the most beautiful thing in the world. It was flattering and immensely pleasing to her. Surely he had seen many other naked young women in his life, and yet he always had that look, that special look, for her. She lifted her arms to him, her expression sweetly pleading. But as she had teased and enticed him back at the club, now he did the same to her as he undressed, quickly but without haste as he remained standing, looking down at her. She saw the hunger for her in his eyes. It made her shiver in anticipation. He kept his body in excellent shape. She drank in his wide shoulders, his deep chest and his flat, hard belly with her eyes. When he shed his pants, her gaze went to his hard, swollen cock. It was long and thick, though not especially so, but he knew exactly what to do with it to drive her wild. She didn’t even mind when he wanted her to suck or lick it a little, because in that way she could give some special pleasure to the part of him that gave her so much pleasure in return.

  The last thing he did before he got into bed with her was stoop to remove her shoes and toss them aside. Then they were tangled together on the bed, she wrapping her long legs around him, he wrapping his muscular arms around her, both of them pulling each other closer, closer as if they were trying to melt together. Felicia dug her nails into his back as she felt his cock sliding deeply into her. She moaned.

  Chapter Three

  Felicia stretched languorously and luxuriously in the bed, enjoying the feeling of the silk sheets against her bare skin. She had aroused Marcello even better than she had hoped last night. Their first lovemaking had been fierce and hungry and had left the bed in a tangled mess. Their second had been slow and wonderfully thorough. Now it was late morning, or possibly early afternoon. She didn’t care which it was. All she wanted to do was lie in this wonderful bed and feel very, very good. Marcello was inventive as well as skilled and last night he had been insatiable as well.

  Best of all, she didn’t have anything at all to do for the day but wait for her lover to return. One of the servants had brought her breakfast in bed some time ago. She had been ravenous enough to eat every bite of it. In fact, she’d still been a little bit hungry after she’d finished the last morsel, but not enough to get up and do anything about it. Instead, she had taken a nap. Now she wondered if asking for lunch in bed would be going too far.

  There was a light breeze ruffling the gauzy curtains by the sliding glass doors. It brought a faint tang of sea air. She could hear the low surf, and even the cries of seagulls. She didn’t much care for seagulls as a rule. She’d seen en
ough of them up close to regard them as nothing more than pigeons that lived at the beach, but she had to admit that they did look pretty in flight, all soaring and gliding with the winds.

  She yawned and stretched one more time. She really should get up, she thought. She’d be spending enough time in bed with Marcello tonight. That thought made her giggle girlishly. It always excited her when he got that randy, hungry look in his eyes and she knew that it was her, and her body, that he was hungering for. She lifted the sheet and looked down at herself. She really couldn’t blame him. Her skin was a light golden tan all over, except for two small triangles of creamy white centered on her dark pink nipples, and two more slightly larger ones on her loins and her tight round ass. She just couldn’t bring herself to wear a thong bikini. It just looked too damned uncomfortable. She could see the little tuft of her curly pubic thatch, a shade darker than the hair on her head. She might have to trim it again soon, but not today. She really didn’t feel like doing much of anything today besides resting up for tonight. She hoped that it would be as memorable as last night.

  It was time to get up. Actually, it was past time for that. She threw the sheet back and strolled, still naked, out onto the porch, feeling deliciously wicked, even though she already knew that it was all perfectly private. The parapet was high enough to screen her completely from anyone on the ground below. There were other villas to either side of this one, but all of them faced towards the beach. No one could see her. She stretched, her arms above her head, as she thought about what to do with the rest of the day. She didn’t feel like going shopping, and she didn’t have to. At Marcello’s suggestion, she had packed a couple of overnight bags back at her little apartment. Now they sat, still unopened, on the long, low dresser near the bed. She supposed that she really should unpack them and hang her things up to get rid of any wrinkles, but it could wait. She’d been wondering what to wear for when Marcello returned, but now she was wondering how he would react if she greeted him as she was now. She couldn’t help giggling again. It might not be a terribly sophisticated thing to do, but maybe if she was wearing nothing but her high heels from last night? She wasn’t sure how he would react to that, but she couldn’t imagine that he would object. Wasn’t it terribly flattering to a man when a woman wanted to display herself in front of him?