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 enough 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?
She turned and went back into the bedroom. She went over to her bags, opened them, and began to unpack. She had more outfits than she would need for the weekend, but she liked having choices. The bedroom had two huge walk-in closets. One was stuffed almost to bursting with women’s clothes, and shoes, and handbags, and much else. Felicia had looked into it, but had been careful not to touch anything. Nothing in the closet would have fit her anyway. The other closet was Marcello’s, and it had much more room. She hung her dresses in there. She’d keep her underwear and shoes in her bags. Small items were too easy to misplace, and it would be very bad for her lover if his wife found another woman’s things anywhere in the bedroom.
As she lounged soaking in the huge bathtub later, Felicia began thinking about her future. What she had with Marcello was certainly fun and lucrative, but she knew that it couldn’t go on indefinitely. It was all based on sex, and while that part was certainly fun too, sooner or later he would grow tired of her, or she would grow tired of him. Or maybe something would happen so that he just couldn’t maintain the double life he was living now, or he would simply see her less and less often, still paying the bills but leaving her alone, unhappy and bored. It could happen. From what she’d read in books and magazines, it would almost certainly happen. She really ought to do some thinking and planning about what she would do once that happened. Unfortunately, the books and magazines weren’t much help there. She supposed that she could go back home and pick up where she’d left off at college, but that seemed so terribly dull and grinding. She’d become accustomed to wearing the best fashions, going to the best places, dining at the fanciest restaurants, and she didn’t want to give all that up… at least, not yet. She was still young, still hot, and could probably attract another sugar daddy if she had to, but she’d have to learn more about how such things worked. That would mean getting Marcello to introduce her to other men in his circle, and she wasn’t at all sure how to get him to do that. He’d been going to some lengths to keep her all to himself, either because he was worried that she might be attracted to some of his friends or because he worried that word of his lovely American playmate might somehow get back to his wife. But he was perfectly willing to bring her here to the beachfront villa even with the two women servants here, so he must have some way of keeping secrets. She debated speaking to the servants about it and decided against it. Her high-school French just wouldn’t be up to that kind of effort, and even if the servants spoke English they would certainly tell Marcello, which could lead to unnecessary difficulties. This was something she would have to do some more thinking about. In the meantime, it was still quite enjoyable being the mistress of a virile older man.
***
“My darling…” Marcello said as he closed the bedroom door behind them that evening. His voice was low and husky, the desire in his eyes unmistakable. Felicia simply smiled back at him, tilting her head to one side. She had worn her hair loose tonight, and one long, curling strand of honey-blonde hair fell across her eye. She wasn’t dressed particularly suggestively, but the dress she wore clung here and draped there in such a way as to accentuate the lush curves of her figure even as it covered them up.
“Yes, my dear Marcello?” she responded coyly. “Is there something that you want?”
“You know that there is,” he said as he slowly came closer to her. “I want you, you lovely temptress. I want you!” He took her in his arms and pulled her close for a kiss. Felicia dropped all pretense of being coy as she put her own arms around him and kissed back. She felt his hands groping for the zipper to her dress and moaned for him. He turned into a wild man, almost tearing the dress off of her in his lustful haste. Felicia moaned again, but inwardly she was laughing, delighted with herself at being so utterly desirable to such a desirable man. She moved in his arms, helping him to remove the dress, stepping out of it when it finally slid to the floor. Now she was in her bra, panties, stockings and high heels and Marcello’s fingers were deftly unhooking the bra. Whenever he was in a hurry to undress her himself she knew that he was aroused to a fever pitch and on the edge of losing control. She loved having such power.
Her bra came loose. He yanked it off of her roughly and seized her breasts with both hands, kneading the soft flesh with his fingers, sucking each nipple in turn before crushing her in his arms and kissing her again, his tongue probing between her parted lips. Incredibly aroused herself now, Felicia deftly slid off her panties, then tore open Marcello’s shirt because unbuttoning it would have taken too long. They were like a pair of animals now, and she loved that too.
They stumbled over to the bed and Marcello pushed her down onto it before letting go of her and stepping back. Felicia writhed on the bed, moaning, as she watched him hastily undress. She kept her legs apart, knowing how much it could inflame him. She still wore her stockings and heels. He kicked aside his briefs and leaped at her, landing short but quickly scrambling up to mount her as she raised her knees and spread them wide. She wrapped her legs around him as he easily penetrated her deeply. He began thrusting wildly, and she moaned again, just as lost in the moment as he was.