Farewell, My Loves

by Jen Tirone

  And he definitely didn’t look like the kind of man to let himself get a potbelly.

  He was that striking, that handsome, his presence that remarkable, my nerves earlier today hadn’t let me really take it all in.

  Giorgio really grew up to be a dangerously handsome man.

  The boy I knew all my life was perfect to me before, and just as breathtaking now.

  My hollowed stomach quickly filled with a hundred fluttering butterflies again.

  I was actually grateful now my mother and sister dressed me because when he laid eyes on me, he stilled.

  “Bella,” was all he murmured, and I flushed.

  I knew it wasn’t the endearment but the compliment this time because he had stopped speaking mid sentence to babbo and his eyes wandered all over me, cataloguing every inch, not missing a single centimeter, unable to look away as if his eyes perused on their own accord.

  His presence, but mainly his reaction to me made all the stress from earlier today fade away, along with all my family in the room, and without a second thought, I walked right up to him, shyly kissed his cheek and hooked my arm with his.

  Giorgio didn’t seem like the kind of man my mother and sister were conditioning me to behave for.

  He was class.

  He was poised.

  He held full presence in a room, but just as he had so many years ago, he had eyes only for me, and a kindness I knew once again, he didn’t oblige many with.

  The way he was looking at me made me feel like such a woman.

  So we bid my family goodbye for the evening and took off for our first date.

  I couldn’t have been more awkward if I tried.

  The stilts hurt my feet, and the angle the heels put my ankles to stand in was just dangerous.

  I felt like a clumsy baby ostrich teetering about in their first steps out of the womb. And to think, it might’ve been an Italian who invented this! Damn him!

  I kept fussing over my hair and constantly pulling up the sweetheart neckline to try and cover more of my chest, and Gio had to have noticed none of this was my norm.

  He was a gentleman about it though, and acted like I was a precious lady anyway.

  We walked in what could have been companionable silence, but the butterflies gave way to the basket of nerves now, and again, I felt so inexperienced around him.

  His long legs ate up the street with his smooth stride, but my trembling tip toeing slowed us down.

  At one point my ankle did give out trying to keep up with his quick gait through the cobblestone streets, causing me to trip to the side, and just as Gabi imagined, it was romantic in the way he caught me.

  “Whoa, bella! I’ve got you,” he assured me with a smile as he held me closely to him.

  There in his arms, I was intoxicated with his masculine smell.

  He used to smell like sea salt when we were kids, either from the light sweat caused by running around on our adventures, or from countless dips into the coast.

  Now there wasn’t any hint of sweat; it was just him and a subtle cologne that made up this matured version of him.

  The delicious smell of him had me watering at the mouth, and his nearness was debilitating in two ways.

  First, I felt paralyzed in his arms unable to find the want to move.

  Second, it was arousing being this close to him. I’ve never been this close to a man other than my brother or babbo, and I’ve definitely never been held like a treasured delicacy.

  Something about his touch now ignited tingles, flushes and trembles I never felt before, but vigorously experienced.

  Why I closed my eyes and began to breathe faster, yet shallower, making me lightheaded in the process and feeling my face numb from it all, I wouldn’t be able to say, just that it happened being held in his strong embrace.

  I wanted something from him, but I couldn’t tell what. I just know my mind and my heart were not communicating to one another to make any sense to me, firing off a message of want, want, want…but want what?

  “Gianna, open those captivating green eyes of yours, bella,” he whispered.

  Slowly I did as he asked, and became enraptured looking into his sultry brown ones.

  “You’ve always looked at me like this,” he murmured as if to himself.

  “Like how?” I whispered back.

  With an earnestness I would never forget in my life, he answered me with a confession he seemed compelled to share.

  “Like I could do no wrong in your eyes; I can never disappoint you. You’ve always regarded me like I knew how to run this world, Gianna, and you made me believe it a long time ago, too. Those green eyes haunted me for years, making all that time away from you a fucking hell.

  “You looked at me with so much love and the way you’re looking at me now, that doe-eyed innocence veiled with need, you charm me, bella. The adoration in your eyes crowns me king, and no one else could ever bestow me with so much in just a look, than my queen.”

  Breathless, I knew this was it.

  He was going to kiss me.

  But not knowing how to, I was so afraid.

  Would I measure up?

  Doubting myself, I couldn’t take the worry permeating my every nerve anymore so I closed my eyes again.

  Gesu Cristo, this was going to be my first real kiss!

  With Giorgio!

  He cupped my face in his warm hands and then his lips softly brushed mine, giving me the most incredible shiver, making me aware of everything.

  My breathing labored. I could swear I felt the blood flowing through my veins all the way to my heart.

  For the first time, I noticed my heart was really pumping. Every compression that organ ever did before this moment was just biologically doing what it is instinctually here to do.

  Nothing more.

  Because now, suddenly, my heart was vibrating with pure need and with a speed I didn’t think I could survive if it palpitated any faster.

  From his beautiful admission, to the beautiful sensation of having his lips on mine, I was conquered by this beautiful man wholeheartedly.

  My eyes were closed but I felt tears spring to them with the intent of overflowing the feelings that had risen inside me.

  I didn’t know what else we were supposed to do beyond this, when Gio slipped his hands through my hair and slightly tugged my head back and pressed me closer to him so he could position me just as he pleased.

  The tug in my hair elicited a gasp, giving him entry to slip his tongue inside and caress mine.

  Dio, è stato incredibile!

  Innately I followed his direction and we kissed and kissed and kissed, as if we would never stop. As if we’d always done this, yet as if it would never be enough.

  I couldn’t tell how much time had gone by; just that I couldn’t get enough of his mouth, his lips, his taste.

  I wanted to do nothing ever again but kiss and breathe only him.

  It was euphoric being held in his arms, having his hands in my hair, on my face, our lips and tongues in total allure with each other’s, and he consumed me to the point I couldn’t think of anything else beyond the urge for more, more, more.

  I was desperate. So frantic. I kissed him with six years of pent-up yearning and overwhelming nostalgia that had embedded in my loneliness.

  I kissed him with sixteen years of shared history, and I kissed him with new, uncontrollable passion.

  I had been out of control and wild when Giorgio slowly pulled away, bringing us to a stop.

  His eyes were closed and we were both short of breath. His hands were still in my hair, but he began running them through it to try straightening out whatever he must’ve disheveled.

  Though I could care less. I just wanted him to keep kissing me.

  When he opened his eyes he stayed quiet a moment, surveying me, then cupped my cheek and gave me a soft quick kiss.

  I was instantly disappointed because... more.

  With a smile he whispered, “Ho saputo che sempre eri per m
e. Sempre.” I always knew you were for me. Always.

  “Gio, that was...” I didn’t even know how to describe it.

  “I know, Gianna. I know,” he lifts his head and smiles at me.

  “What do you know?” I ask, because I need to know if this felt as life changing to him as it did to me.

  “I know it was too beautiful to put into words. It was more perfect than I could’ve ever imagined in all the years I’d been imagining it. And it’s something we’re never going to get enough of, bella, even though it’s all I want to do right now... but I promised you gelato,” he finished with a wink.

  He placated me with another peck on the lips, but pulled away quickly with a chuckle and got us back on the move.

  I didn’t want to go anywhere!

  I wanted to experience that again, I was pouting and I couldn’t care.

  As awkward as it started, and as heartfelt as it got, things felt really easygoing from there.

  That amazing kiss was the icebreaker.

  Back on our slow walk, he had his arm around my shoulders, my arm was wrapped around his waist and I couldn’t help myself when I turned to him and inhaled his scent.

  Of course he caught it and barked out a good laugh, but I couldn’t help myself! He smelled incredibly good. I was that addicted, or I missed him that much.

  We shared many silent smiles with each other that night.

  We chatted a bit, but mostly enjoyed just being together again.

  I found I rather enjoyed being the apple of his eye all evening, and our quiet study of one another communicated more than if we filled the silence with idle small talk.

  His gentle eyes, his cherishing approach, and his unwavering attention overturned every scared nerve I was plagued with before. They were replaced with the desire to keep his attention.

  I found myself immensely thrilled and even perplexed he liked me so much. He was such a handsome man, yet such an enigma. He was deathly serious and acutely aware of his surroundings and his presence was severely intimidating, it demanded respect.

  If I’d never met Gio before and saw him for the first time today, I would never have imagined I would be what caught his attention. Looking at him, you’d imagine he would have the prettiest, most glamorous model on his arm.

  And yet, here he was doting on me.

  I couldn’t believe my luck when we were kids and I still couldn’t fathom it now.

  True to his word, he came back for me not really knowing if I was still what he wanted to come back for.

  With that realization, I wanted to do everything possible to make him happy. I wanted to make sure he didn’t regret it. I wanted him to be certain it wasn’t puerile oversight when he claimed me the day I was born.

  It became my personal crusade to be the woman who matched him both in wits and confidence. I would endeavor to act more womanly even though I didn’t have a clue how, and Giorgio’s life-long interest in me was going to pay off for him.

  Our first date was the beginning of a two-month courtship.

  Spending every day together we quickly fell right back into our friendship, only now kissing and barely there caresses were an added and a very enjoyable element.

  Teasing solicited a much different reaction now than when we were children and our competitions evolved from wanting to win races, to wanting to win over each other. Mostly on my part, because I can assure you, he’d already won me.

  I became very self aware the more time I spent with him and realized my initial awkwardness was due to my inexperience. Looking at him, it was more than obvious he was a virile man. The confident way he carried himself left no question to how he would engage himself that way.

  For a man who exuded seduction without trying, surprisingly he was the ultimate gentleman.

  You wouldn’t think Giorgio was traditional in the wait-for-marriage kind of way, but he was. He never ventured farther than kissing and seemed to be in no rush either. He was almost adamant about waiting.

  A good Catholic boy he remained.

  And truthfully, I was relieved that he wasn’t pressuring me. His respect for me had no limits. It was a given I was completely his and all that was left to do was make it recognized in the eyes of God now.

  The years of desperately waiting for him felt like a distant memory and the effort was rewarded with his unending devotion.

  When he asked me in his gentle voice one evening out for a sunset picnic on my seventeenth birthday under our G & G sempre tree if I still wanted to be his wife, there wasn’t a single ounce of reluctance in my bones when I genuinely answered yes.

  I was restless with desire by the time our wedding day arrived.

  I was ready to be Gio’s in every way, I was itching to get out of my cupcake wedding dress before I even had it on.

  Layers of lace covered me up to the chin in a high neckline, with long sleeves that might as well have covered my fingertips too. And layers and layers of tulle made up the skirt—puffing it out like I was Salerno’s very own princess.

  I couldn’t appreciate the workmanship of the handmade lace or the demure elegance of the dress. I felt claustrophobic with everything on. To top it off, my mama and sister made me wear a white corset girdle that was smothering on my skin, and then finished it all off with a petticoat underneath, making me feel as if I had another person sitting on top of me.

  I wanted out of that dress for the obvious, but mostly because of Giorgio. Yes, he had been a gentleman, but it didn’t mean he didn’t seduce me.

  His sultry, open-mouthed kisses swept me up in his whirlwind.

  He was riveted to everything I said; the attention to my every word became a heady drug for me.

  I not only felt wanted, I felt interesting.

  Giorgio also touched a lot. He was very hands-on, respectfully, but many times it seemed he didn’t notice he had reached out to do so.

  He’d lightly squeeze the side of my neck to make a point in conversation, or slowly stroke my cheek with the back of his hand for no other reason than to caress me. He would twirl a lock of my hair in between his fingers while I spoke, while a carnal desire was in his eyes.

  Many times he rendered me speechless with a lascivious look.

  I had come to crave his attention and his touch during the moments we weren’t together for our dates, and most especially when we were together with my family for dinners. He’d keep his hands to himself in front of babbo, and it drove me absolutely crazy!

  Sometimes, I’d brazenly reach for his hand underneath the dinner table.

  Those little stolen touches by the end of the two months had me in a frenzy of lust, I wanted him badly.

  My dress was beautiful but I was anticipating my first night with Giorgio more.

  I didn’t know what to expect, what to imagine.

  He’s been a dream, I didn’t know how our relationship could top itself any more than how lovely it had already been.

  Mama and Babbo were full of joyful tears when they came to collect me.

  “You are stunning, bambina. I don’t know how time flew this fast,” Babbo sniffed.

  My excitement coupled with the obvious nerves that accompany your wedding day and thoughts of my first time with my husband, had me on the verge of tears myself.

  “No, no! Don’t ruin your makeup. You can’t walk down the aisle looking like una pagliaccia!”

  A clown, my sister thankfully joked making us all laugh, resulting in getting ourselves together and finally, reaching the aisle where Giorgio was waiting.

  The church organs played and everyone stood.

  As soon as I turned down the aisle, Giorgio looked up with such awe on his beautiful face, he took my breath away.

  He was magnificent, as usual.

  And now I’ll belong to him.

  I’ll really be his Gianna.

  He’ll truly be my Giorgio.

  For better or worse.

  In sickness and in health.

  Till death do us part.

&nbs
p; We were now husband and wife.

  We were finally Giorgio and Gianna Moretti.

  Just as he promised, G & G sempre.

  After our small ceremony and celebration, we bade our goodbyes and made our way to his childhood home he’d been staying in since his return.

  Crossing the threshold was surreal.

  I’d been in here countless times, but this time I was cradled in his arms as his bride.

  He strode past everything with one room in mind.

  Standing together, staring into each other’s eyes he asked me softly, “Are you ready, tesorina? To be mine in every way?”

  I was, but I was also terrified.

  I wasn’t going to pretend because for months I’d been in a frenzy. I’d been engrossed with thoughts about us together like this.

  “Yes, Giorgio. I trust you... touch me,” I blurted.

  I know that from my cheeks to my toes I was blushing in embarrassment.

  Only he didn’t let it last long, because he ran his fingers gently through my hair and started to pepper kisses all over my face which made me relax a little, until he kissed my lips with such need, it seemed as if he’d been dehydrated and only through me could his thirst be quenched.

  I was inebriated with lust when his hands began to roam from my hair to my neck and shoulders, massaging as he felt along.

  He started to unbutton the back of the cupcake dress without stopping his skilled kissing hypnotism.

  He turned me around to unfasten the last few buttons in an agonizing pace.

  But with each opened button came a wet kiss to the back of my neck, my exposed shoulder, then the middle of my back giving me delightful shivers.

  His large hands squeezed my hips making them feel branded by his heated touch, then he slowly dragged them up my body, pausing right underneath my breasts. I thought he was about to cup them, but only teased me when he pressed my body against him instead. Behind me, he ran his nose along my jaw up to my temple and breathed me in deeply making me shake with need.

  “My God,” he whispered in my ear, “I’m going to devastate every inch of your body with my mouth. Starting from your greedy lips down to the tips of your toes, but most especially, bella, I’m going to devour your pussy.”