by Hawke, Jessa
“Is that good, my sweet?” he asks, in a heavy husky voice.
“Hmmm,” is all I can manage in response, but in my head I’m crying out that I love it.
He pulls back, releasing my stiff buds and making the soft flesh of my breasts, ripple, as they fall back into shape. The pain on the end of my breasts is exquisite, even more so with my hands tied above my head.
He continues to strip, quickly unfastening his denims, and hooking his thumb in the waist of his jeans and boxers, pulling them both down together, before stepping out of them. As he stands back up I see his erection for the first time, it is huge and stiff, and throbs as it bounces up and down in front of me. I feel a little trepidation at the thought of fitting it inside of me, it looks too big, not necessarily long, but really thick.
Renato quickly climbs back on the bed laying on top of me. He pushes my legs open with his knee and slips between them. I can feel his cock nuzzling at the folds of my labia. He seems to hold it there for an eternity, teasing me, each time I push forward, he pulls back a little, just out of reach.
“Bastard,” I cry out. “Just fuck me, please. Fuck me.”
I know it makes me sound like an easy lay, but I don’t care, I really need this man inside of me.
Renato does not respond to my obscene pleas, but he does move a little forward until just the tip is inside of me, again, holding it there. I desperately want to push up, but I know if I do he’ll simply withdraw, and that’s the last thing I want to happen. I stare up into his face and it is impassive. He is in complete control of his emotions, just as he is in compete control of me.
Finally, he slowly pushes all the way into me, until our pelvic bones are pressing together with the end of his cock pressing deep inside of me. Despite the girth of his member, I’m so wet that it slips inside easily. He makes no attempt to move, instead he dips his head, biting and licking at my breasts and nipples again, leaving little red marks in my flesh. His stiffness is still embedded deep inside of me, teasingly. Without warning he suddenly withdraws, leaving my pussy feeling bereft of his thickness, I moan lightly in disappointment and beg him once again to fuck me. And, he does. Oh, how he does. He starts to fuck me, slowly at first, burying his cock deep inside of me, before almost completely withdrawing until just the tip is left inside. Then he thrusts it back in again. Faster and faster he fucks me, my body is pressed deeper and deeper into the bed.
His fucking becomes more urgent, and I sense that he must be close to his climax. With each deep thrust he pushes me closer to my own orgasm. Suddenly, he presses his cock deep into me, and he cries out, a deep guttural groan, as he ejaculates into me. His cock even thicker, almost feeling like he might split me in two. I desperately want the release that I crave. I want us to cum in perfect unison, grinding and pumping together with my clit rubbing against his course pubic hairs.
“Go la mia bellezza, ride it, let it come,” he whispers into my ear.
Aroused even further by his words, I press down deeper. Grasping one of my nipples between his finger and thumb, he pulls it so hard that I feel it could separate from my breast. The pain, while extreme, only serves to push me over the edge. My whole body is wracked with spasms as I cum so strongly that I scream out my pleasure, not caring who hears.
4
I’ve been with Renato for a whole month, and our time together has been wonderful. He is the perfect lover and partner, treating me with the utmost of respect and returning my love in abundance. Everything is so very perfect, until I start to feel unwell.
“Have you had enough of my meatballs already?” he asks, one evening, when it’s his turn to cook.
“I love your cooking, it’s just the smell of garlic is making me feel a bit queasy. I must have eaten something bad and its upset my stomach.”
“For a moment there, I thought you’d gone off my cooking,” he laughs. “I tell you what, I make something a little lighter, does that sound better?”
“You are far too good to me, Renato, but yes, I think I can manage something fairly dry. By the way, I meant to ask you, I thought I saw you at the bank today, with a few guys?” I mention, suddenly remembering the incident. “You’re colleagues all looked really stern, so I didn’t come over to say hello, I gathered it was some big business deal in your property job.”
“Yes, we were there on business,” he said, a little abruptly as if that was the end of the conversation.
“It’s just I’d heard on the news that there’s been a shooting in that bank. I hope you weren’t still there when it happened?”
“No,” he almost shouted, making me jump a little.
“Okay,” I say, a little shakily, “no need to shout at me, I’m only here, not across the street.”
He came out of the kitchen and sat beside me.
“Sorry, it’s just been a difficult day, and you know how I hate to talk about work in my down time. Okay?”
I simply nod my acquiescence, he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. He never wants to talk about his work. He’s very guarded when I try and bring the subject up, secretive even. Maybe he’s a spy or something secretive.
We eat in silence, he seems to have a lot on his mind. In the end I was relieved when he said he wouldn’t be staying the night.
* * *
Renato did not ring me the next day. In fact, it was three days before I heard from him again, and when I picked up my cell to reply to his call, it seemed we both had something urgent to tell each other. Neither of us wanted to give our information over the phone, so we agreed to meet that very evening. He said he would come to my apartment, which was fine, I didn’t feel like socializing anyway. He had his own key, so when I heard it rattling in the lock, I turned off the TV program I’d been watching. I have to admit, I feel excited at my news and hope he will be too. I jump up to cuddle him as he comes into the living area where I’m sat, feeling so pleased to see him. His smile seems a little forced, and he doesn’t appear that pleased to see me.
That was until he picked me up and swung me around. It made me feel so good that he was glad to see me after all.
“I have missed you,” he said, in his delectable Sicilian accent. “You light up my life like nothing else can do.”
I squeal with delight at his greeting.
We collapse in a heap of love on the sofa, staring into each other’s eyes.
“I have missed you too,” I pout. “Where have you been? Why haven’t you contacted me? I thought you’d gone off me.”
“So many questions,” he says, stroking my lips with his beautiful fingers. “Come, let me taste those soft lips,” he demands, pulling my chin up to his and planting his delicious mouth onto mine.
After our long and passionate embrace, we finally pull away from each other.
“Okay, who’s news is going first?” I dare to ask, hoping I could be first because I’m about to show this man just how much I really do love him.
5
“I like the sound of your news, because you look happy,” he tells me. “You must go first.”
“Okay, I’m just gonna say this. Here goes,” I was nervous to tell him, but I was sure it would cheer him up from his dire mood. “You’re gonna be a father,” I say, calmly, trying not to be a crazy girlfriend.
“What?” he yells, standing up. “Did you not take precautions?”
“I…I…I thought we were in love,” was my pathetic answer.
Oh my god, he doesn’t want our child, he doesn’t want me. I got the whole wrong idea. I look at him blankly, unsure what to say. It was clear the news did not please him.
“This is not good, Katie, not good at all,” he informs me.
“Oh,” I retaliate, softly, “for some odd reason, I thought you’d be pleased.”
“When I tell you my news, you will understand my situation better,” he says, but I could not think what he meant. Either he wanted my child, or he did not.
Sitting back down on the couch, he takes both of my hands into his big
strong palms, looking into my eyes again. I can see he’s struggling with something, but what can it be?
“Katie, I do love you, that is why I have a problem with this situation. If I did not love you, you’re being pregnant would mean nothing to me,” he starts to explain.
I say nothing. I’m too dazed, I honestly thought we were a couple in love and this would simply be the icing on the cake.
“I am married,” he admits.
Suddenly, my sickness feels tenfold. Why didn’t I see this? I’ve been a fool walking around with my eyes closed. I should have picked up the signs, I’m not stupid, am I?
“But its’ not how you think, I hate my wife,” he continues. “She is the daughter of my boss, and there lies the problem. My boss is a member of a very powerful mafia family, from my country.”
“Mafia?” I repeat the word, in a trance like state. I cannot believe how my world has suddenly turned upside down. “What does that mean?”
“Our marriage is… kind of an arranged thing, in a way you could say that she owns me. It seems she took a shining to me back home, in Sicily. My family were in debt to hers and it was agreed that I would marry her, and the debt would be cancelled.”
He paced the floor looking so unhappy.
“I swear, she means nothing to me, in fact I hate her. She is hard and cruel and treats me as some kind of trophy. She knows she owns me and she makes me suffer for that everyday of my life.”
“Surely you have rights, Renato? This is America for goodness sake. There are such things as divorce,” I say, not really understanding why he’s so tied to this marriage.
“I have no rights, my love,” he tells me, with a look of hopelessness in his eyes. “I married her to pay a debt. I am, in effect, a servant of this mafia family. I have to do as they ask, if I don’t…..”
He left the statement unfinished, but I could tell that he feared the worse of consequences should he disobey them.
“What? Surely they cannot go around killing people, Renato?” I’m shocked at the thought.
He almost laughed at my words, but instead he just smiled.
“Ahh, my Katie, so naive, it is one of the little things I love about you. They have people killed everyday, you remember the bank manager on the news?”
Oh god, so they had shot that poor bank manager, I was speechless at his revelation.
“I am an illegal immigrant, so to speak,” he informs me. “I have no legal rights to stay in this country. I do so because my wife wants me as her bed toy, and her father is very influential. If she finds out I’m having an affair, it is dangerous for you. If she finds out I’m having a baby, she can arrange to steal it away from you. “His daughter cannot have children, and if she finds out I have a child on the way, she has the power to do terrible things,” he tells me.
I can’t believe that my child is in such danger. I don’t know if I feel fear, or anger, or sadness, I just know that I will not let some mafia bitch take my child away from me.
“We need to part, just for a little while,” he tells me. “Be patient, my love, all will be well in the end.”
6
I haven’t seen Renato in three months, and believe me, all sorts of thoughts have rushed through my head. Has his gangster wife found out and had him killed, will she come looking for me next? I really feared for his life and I would intently watch the news each night looking for any thing that might indicate his death.
Despite everything, including the early morning sickness, I do my best to get on with my life. I decide not to tell my parents about the baby, they would only ask too many questions and I don’t have the answers. As time passes, I come around to the conclusion that he’s not coming back, maybe because he fears for me and his child, maybe because this way is just easier for him. In reality, he did not know me for that long. I sort of blame myself for believing we had both fallen in love with each other. I truly believed he was the one for me, but perhaps I should have checked that he felt the same way.
I stroke my belly and realize that at least I love my child. I know my parents will, aswell, they’re always nattering about having grandchildren, just not out of wedlock. Ah well, these things happen to many a girl, I’m not the first and I’ve got to stop feeling sorry for myself. I’m actually a very energetic person, normally. Jogging, gym and swimming constantly. I seem to have just got down to the swimming at the moment, and everything else has stopped, due to my constant sickness. It’s terrible going through all this worry alone, but what can I do? I’m just going to have to accept that I’m going to be a single mom, and my family will also have to take that on board. That decision made, I decide it’s time to tell the grandparents the good news. Once they come to terms about the absent father, they’ll still be ecstatic. This child will not lack love in its life, just a father.
Looking out the window of my apartment, I see the mail man leaving the block so decide to go downstairs and get the bills from my mailbox. Don’t know why I’m in such a rush to open up bills, but I know if I have anything in there, that’s what it’ll be.
How wrong I am, there is not one bill. However, there is a letter for me, but I don’t recognize the writing. Who on earth writes letters these days? Walking up the stairs I study the hand writing and see how beautiful the scrolling is. This is written by a talented writer, someone who has been taught that the written word is important and takes their time with every letter.
I’m so obsessed with the style of calligraphy that I realize I haven’t opened up the envelope yet, which I do so. And, there it is, a letter from Renato. My heart flutters and I have an urgent need to sit down.
He starts by informing me that this is the safest way to contact me, for now. Soon, he will be in touch with me and I must make a decision to either leave the country and make my life with him, or he will support me financially if I don’t wish to do that. Asking me to keep the pregnancy quite for as long as I’m able, he then finishes off by assuring me of his love, and how much he misses me.
By the time I’ve finished reading my lover’s beautiful words, I’m sobbing my heart out. He does still love me and want to be with me. Everything is going to be okay. I’m not sure how I feel about leaving the country, but if it means I can be with him, then it’s a sacrifice I’m happy to make.
7
We sit opposite each other at a cafe table with our coffee, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes, longingly. Both of us just wanting to be be with one another. We are simply a young couple in love, and just for these moments, we can forget the reality of our dire situation.
He contacted me a few days after the letter, sending me a text and asking me to meet him here, today.
“I am so sorry,” he apologizes. “What this must be doing to you?”
“Yeah,” I laugh, “trust me to fall for a bad boy.”
“I have had to do many bad things that I’m ashamed of, Katie, but my heart is good, I promise you,” he tells me with pleading eyes, and I believe him.
“I know, baby, I know,” I try to let him know that I understand, but in reality I have no idea what these bad things he’s done are, and frankly, I think it’s better that I never find out.
Do I want to know? I love this guy, I don’t want anything bad to infiltrate our relationship. All I want is normality, I want us to be a normal, happy family.
“Listen to me,” he says, leaning forward so no one else can hear our conversation. “I can finance a whole new life for the both of us, but that is exactly what it would be, a new life. You could not risk telling your parents where you are going, because the less they know, then the better.”
My stomach does a flip, can I leave my parents behind? Can I take away their grandchild, the one they’ve longed for, for years? I could get up and walk out now, leave this man in my past. I know he would tell no one of his love child, he would not want to put us in such danger. My mind is in such a turmoil, what should I do? Run away with him, start a new life somewhere else?
&nb
sp; “I know this is a hard choice for you Katie,” he says to me, as if he can read all the questions that are going through my head. “I will honor whatever you chose. I can keep you safe, if you decide to continue your life here. I will finance you and our child and only ask to see you both occasionally. Or, I can finance us all with a new identity, a new life. I cannot guarantee we will never be found out. At first, my wife will be furious and will make demands of her father. Her father owns me and he will want his revenge for certain matters. My mother and father are dead so he cannot get to me that way, but he will search high and low for a number of years. This is why, if you stay with me, we must take on a new identity.”
He pauses and sips at his coffee. I mirror his actions and take a sip of mine. It’s cold but I prefer it that way, I’m only just able to begin drinking coffee again. The mere smell made me ill, but now I manage it, if I cannot smell it.
