by Hawke, Jessa
I was born in the big city of New York and I presently live in Brooklyn, though I’m lucky enough to come from a reasonably wealthy family. Both my parents are science teachers at a local college, though I lack greatly in the academic area and delight in physical movement. I’ve attended many competitions throughout my childhood, but in adulthood I use my physical skills to raise money. My parents raised me to care for those who have less than myself, and so it comes as second nature to try and spread what little wealth I come across. Needless to say, I’m taking part in raising money for the homeless, of which, unfortunately, there are many on the streets New York.
In my job as a physio-therapist, for the wealthier members of the city, I like to step out of my mundane life, occasionally, and do something beneficial to those who have less than I do. That’s why I’m practicing my gymnast movements, to hopefully raise some money from the wealthier citizens to give to the poorer ones.
I’m well into my routine, when I notice a guy staring at me. Like I said, it’s not unusual, but most stare as their passing, he stands watching me, intently, making me conscious. I decide to approach him and give him my candid thoughts, as to his manners. As I get closer to him, I realize what a handsome guy he is, and that cools my temper, slightly.
“Hi, my name’s Katie,” I say, holding out my hand, having decided a friendly approach is more appropriate for a handsome guy.
“I know what I’m doing might look a bit geeky, but I assure you, there is reasoning behind it,” I explain, shading my eyes from the glaring sun as I look up at his handsome features. “I’m training for a charity event, and I ought to charge you a fee for observing,” I laugh, not the best of pick up lines I know, but my stomach’s turning butterflies.
I wasn’t really sure what had come over me, I never speak to strangers when I’m exercising, except for the occasional perfunctory good morning. There was something about this guy, and not just his good looks. He emanates a sense of control and power, and I feel attracted to it.
“I would love to donate, I’m sure it’s a worthy cause,” he says, grinning. His smile is slightly lopsided and makes him look even sexier. “However, there is a catch.”
He had an accent that I couldn’t quite place, but when I look closely, I can see his facial features are Southern European, Italian, maybe?
“That’s very generous of you, thank you, if you mean it of course? I can provide you with the website address for the donation. We need all the money we can get and, yeah, it is a worthy cause.”
“Of course I mean it, Renato Cuccino is always good for his word. But, like I said, there is a catch. You have to let me buy you dinner,” he makes his demand.
“I can’t have dinner with you, I don’t even know you,” I say, surprised at his cheek.
We’ve only just met and here he is assuming I’ll go out on a date, just like that, and just because he offered to make a donation. Still, despite my protestations, I do find the idea quite appealing.
“Come now, bella signora, I only wish to meet with you so we can get to know each other better, what is wrong with that?” he asks, cutting through my thoughts.
“You’re not American, are you?” I say, stating the obvious. “Are you on holiday?”
“I am Sicilian, but I work here,” he tells me, still watching me do some muscle exercises so I didn’t cease up. He makes no effort to move on his way.
“Please,” he says to me. “I was to have such a dreary day, heavy with business and very little pleasure. Now, I have met you, and this changes everything. Please, bella, will you meet with me? I take you anywhere you like to go, you choose,” he offers.
“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” I laugh. It’s not that I don’t fancy him, because this guy is built like a warrior. He clearly keeps his body fit by working out. I respect that, it takes a lot of focus and energy. “Where do you work?” I ask, trying to find out some more about him.
“I tell you all you need to know, only if you agree to let me wine and dine you, please?” he pleads. “I watch you dance, er do gymnastic, and I think of you as graceful and beautiful. Please, meet with me, let me enjoy your company and give a donation to your charity. Consider it one of those charity dates, whereby I pay the charity for a night out with you. What do you say?”
“I say, that you probably won’t leave me alone if I don’t agree, and I need to get on with my practice, so yes, I’ll meet you. Tell me where, and then leave so I can finish.”
“I pick you up tonight, I wine and dine you and make you laugh and be merry, and then I pay your price, yes?”
“Just to make it clear, I’m not the kinda woman who offers her services for money,” I smile at him, I can see his English is good, but it just came across wrong.
“Hah, please, it will be my honor to be with you, now say, yes, and I leave you to your practice. I too must continue with my running.
I pick up my gym bag and take out one of my business cards, handing it to him.
“Tonight you say? I would love to go to a Mexican place I know of. You call me and I’ll tell you where to pick me up. But, you must donate or the deal is off,” I finally agree.
To be honest, it’s not hard to agree, I like the look of this guy and we’ll stick to public places until I feel I know him better.
He takes my card and kisses it, then simply jogs off, without looking back. Phew, I really hope he rings me, he is one dishy fella.
2
I didn’t have long to wait, no sooner am I back in my apartment and the phone’s ringing. It’s Renato, and tonight I have a date. He’s offered to take me out of town and into the suburbs to a neat Mexican restaurant he recommends. I love Mexican food so could not resist, plus being in the company of such an attractive guy helps to sway me.
I’m a bit of a punk when it comes to dressing up, not at all a lady. I’ve always been so physically active that I never got used to wearing dresses and skirts. I checked with Renato that the place isn’t too classy because I hate the thought of such an outfit when I’m trying to relax. Now, I await my carriage, dressed in tight black denims strategically ripped in the right places, a sex pistols t-shirt, short leather jacket and black leather sneakers. My outfit might look like its come from a garage sale, but it’s all expensive stuff. That’s me, they don’t come much more unsophisticated as that. Oh, and my hair, well I wear it short and peppered blonde and black. Yeah, I know, not to everyone’s liking, but I’m comfortable with it, so other people can take it or leave it.
I’ve been brought up to think independently and be my own person. What others think doesn’t influence me, especially if they’re negative. I pretty much do my own thing. I’m very feminine in my own way, just not a flimsy and pink kinda way. I have a strong personality and everything in my life needs to be tough, or it will break and I’ll discard it.
My cell bleeps, informing me I’ve received a text, when I check it I see it’s Renato, letting me know he’s here.
Coming out of the double, glass doors to my apartment block, I see my date waiting for me with the passenger car door open and ready for my arrival. And what a car it is, a Bentley convertible. This guy must have some money to be driving around in such a car.
“Wow,” he says when he first see’s me, “You look absolutely stunning. Welcome to Renato’s ride,” he says, smiling at me.
“You do know that I’m no lady, so don’t waste your chivalry on me,” I tell him, a little uncomfortable at him holding the door open for me. “My parents taught me equality, so that means I get to hold the door open for you, later.”
“Lady’s come in all different kinds of packages” he replies, “and you look every bit the lady to me.”
I smile at his compliment, I usually find them uncomfortable but his seems sincere enough, and I liked it.
The drive to the restaurant takes around thirty minutes and we spend that time with meaningless chit chat. I try and question him about himself, his life and job, but he quickly changes t
he subject telling me he wants to know all about me.
When we arrive, he parks in the lot and I take his arm as we walk into the diner. Fortunately he has dressed casual too, blue denim pants and a plain white t-shirt, with a denim jacket. He actually looks quite sexy and I felt pretty special walking in on his arm.
It’s a small family run establishment, with around 20 tables. Away to the left is a small stage and a Mexican guy is playing a guitar as he sings in his own language. We’re led to a private booth, dimly lit but fairly close to the singer, making it all very romantic. The food is delicious. I have a wonderful time with my date, there is nothing pretentious about Renato, he is totally charming and I feel relaxed in his company. I believe he is a caring and protective man. He pampers me all evening, paying me compliments and giving me his full attention. I am swept off my feet by this new man in my life.
All to soon the evening comes to an end and we’re back in his car making our way to my apartment. Finally, he drops me off at the same spot that he collected me. I go around to his door and hold it open.
“Why don’t you come up and make that donation, I have the computer set up?” I invite him, half expecting him to say he’d do it later. To my surprise he agrees.
Once in my apartment, I waste no time logging on to my computer straight away. He is a man of his word and he gives a large donation to the code that I supply him with, on the charity’s website.
“I’m impressed, Renato, I did not expect that much. Twenty dollars would have been enough, but two thousand will go a long way to helping our cause. Thank you,” I say, a little embarrassed at a complete stranger giving such a great donation.
“Do I at least get offered a cup of coffee for my effort?” he asks, and I laugh as I switch on the coffee machine.
I can tell you with all honesty, he did not even attempt to kiss me. He was the complete gentleman and simply drinks his coffee, arranges to meet me again, and leaves. I have to admit, I feel a little disappointed that he didn’t make a pass at me. I’m no prude and making love to a sexy guy is right up at the top of my to do list. No matter, I’m seeing him again, only this time for lunch, tomorrow. Wow, tomorrow. I’m surprised either of us has the time on our hands, but I want to make time for him, so maybe he feels the same way about me.
By the time my head hits the pillow, I’m in a dreamy world of falling in love with a Sicilian stallion, hmmm, he is adorable.
3
Lunch the next day is unbelievable, sat in the sun drinking cocktails. I tell you, this guy is perfect and despite knowing very little about him, I’m falling for him big time.
We see each other every day for the rest of the week. He’s obviously a private person because any attempt to question him usually results in a change of subject. Still, when he offers to cook an authentic Sicilian dish at my place, this weekend, I cannot refuse. How can a girl resist?
While his dish is cooking, we put on some music and smooch. I can feel the heat of his body as he presses close to me. We have kissed, but not gone any further. I suspect tonight I’ll invite him to stay.
His meatballs are to die for, wow, his Sicilian mama gave him an amazing recipe, but he refuses to share it with me, how selfish is that? He also makes an Italian trifle that nearly blew my head off he’d put so much alcohol in it. We ate good food, drank delicious Italian wines and finished with Italian liqueurs. After dinner, we smooch again to slow music. Our closeness is having an effect on me, my skin tingles whenever it touches his, and I can feel a heat in my panties that can’t be ignored. As we dance, our groins press together and I can feel the unmistakable hardness that tells me he’s enjoying this as much as I am.
Finally, we collapse on my huge couch, and I throw my legs over his lap. He takes one of my feet and firmly massages it. Now that feels good as little shocks of pleasure run through my body like an electric current
“You like the massage?” he asks. “I am a good masseur. You have oils, yes?”
“I’m a therapist, of course I have oils,” I reply in exasperation. “It’s usually me doing the massaging so it makes a nice change to be on the receiving end. If you’re really good, I’ll return the favor,” I laugh, running out of the room, barefoot.
I head to my bedroom and open up a drawer full of body oils.
“Which flavor would you like?” I ask, teasingly.
He spends a moment savoring the aromas of a variety of oils, before deciding on one that we both like. It’s one of my favorites, a lovely smell of lavender and camomile.
He stands and looks at me, an unmistakable glint in his eye.
“This is no good,” he says gesturing towards me with his arms “ how can I massage while you wear those clothes?”
I try and act coy, but deep inside I can’t wait to strip off. I slowly unfasten my jeans and let them slip to the floor before stepping out of them, and quickly I lift my t-shirt over my head. Now I’m stood before him in only my bra and panties. I’m a fit woman, my body is firm and well toned, my stomach flat and breasts small, but well formed. I’m proud of how I look and I can see from the way he looks at me, that he likes what he see’s.
“Sei una bella donna,” he whispers, under his breath. I’ve no idea what he said, but it sounds sexy.
Laying on my stomach on the bed, he begins his ministrations. A pool of cool oil is poured on to my back, then he spreads it out with his strong fingers. Pushing them up my shoulders and kneading those knotty muscles. His firm fingers press into the muscles, releasing all my tension.
“Oh, you are good Mister Sicilian man. I’m going to hire you to be my personal masseur.”
“Time for the other side,” he bends down to whisper in my ear.
I turn myself around, shutting my eyes. I feel so chilled and relaxed I could fall asleep, if it wasn’t for the incessant burning between my legs. Already I’m aroused and he hasn’t really started yet. That’s when I feel his soft lips press onto mine and his oily hands knead at my breasts, slipping them out of the bra cups, slipping easily over the tender skin of my breasts. His fingers brush my nipples, causing me to gasp out in pleasure. I arch my back, pushing my breasts up higher and encouraging him to pay my nipples more attention. He ignores my efforts, instead cups my breasts, which easily fit in his large hands as he squeezes and massages them. The sensation is wonderful and I murmur my encouragement.
Eventually he does as I yearn and his fingers simultaneously stimulate my nipples, already rock hard and super sensitive. I almost climax, just at his touch. I open my mouth and moan lightly. He presses his lips firmly to mine, his tongue exploring my warm cavity, searching out mine. The feeling of his wet tongue flicking against mine, opens the floodgates. Any uncertainties I had, are quickly dispelled. My inhibitions are already loosened by the alcohol. Before I know it, I have my lips wrapped around Renato’s tongue and I suck it deeper into my mouth.
He leans forward until he’s laying right above me, his weight pressing me, pushing me into the bed. I have a momentary concern about the oils, on his clothes, but that is soon dispelled as his leg slips between mine, and his knee presses on my mons. With one hand he firmly holds my arms above my head as he kisses me passionately. I kiss him back with abandonment, our tongues dancing with each other, our saliva mingling, the taste of him is intoxicating and I can’t get enough.
He breaks our embrace, and bends his head to engulf one of my nipples into his mouth
“Ohhh,” I moan as his tongue flicks across my sensitive bud, his sucking mouth coaxing it erect.
I love my nipples to be played with, the rougher the better. They are so sensitive, but can take some playful abuse. His hand reaches over to the other nipple, which was feeling left out. Strong fingers pluck at the nipple, while a wet mouth sucks at the other. He’s no longer holding my arms, but I keep them above my head anyway, as though it were some unspoken command from him. I like the vulnerable feeling I get when stretched out this way.
Suddenly he is gone from my breasts and my nippl
es ache from the loss of his loving mouth and fingers. He climbs off me and stands at the side of the bed. It’s only then I remember once again that he is still fully clothed. I’ve been so caught up in my own sensations that I’d given him little thought. He quickly and efficiently strips off, first his shoes and socks are discarded. Then his t-shirt unceremoniously pulled over his head, revealing a tanned and muscular chest, tight curly hair on his chest and a flat washboard stomach. Next his hands go to the belt on his jeans as he unfastens the heavy brass buckle, completely removing it from his waist, before leaning forward and, using the leather belt, fastens one of my arms to the metal bed post. He quickly finds something else to fasten my other arm aswell. The feeling of vulnerability in this position raises my arousal levels to new heights. Before continuing to unclothe, he tweaks at both of my nipples, pulling on the extended buds quite hard and stretching them, lifting the mounds of my breasts to a peak.
