I see it in her eyes—desire. The same desire I saw years ago from the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
I am breathless and unsure of what I want to do next. That’s not true.
“I’m going to feast between your thighs.”
“I want you inside me,” she begs.
“I know you need to fuck, and I’m not without need. But I have been starving, Valentina, starving without you.”
“Take what you want, Franco. Everything I have is yours.”
Ignoring the true meaning behind her words, I kiss her cheek, then down her sensual throat until I lick across her belly.
She whimpers when I lick over her center, tonguing her hot, bare, swollen lips. Then I kiss up to her flat, trim belly again. Her belly that held the two children she bore. Two beautiful children.
She rubs the side of my head gently, as if she knows what I am thinking. Then she holds my head against her body, and I take just a moment to mourn the time I lost with her, with them.
Turning my head, I rub my lips against her soft skin before working my way back down her body.
I push myself between her legs and kneel. “Sei bellissimo.” I run my finger over her bare skin, feeling the damp heat again as I inhale her fragrance.
She whimpers when I bend down to place my lips softly against her skin, and then I lick her gentler this time.
“You taste so much better than I remember. I have never tasted anything so exquisite before.”
I spread her wider now and lap at her hot cunt, wondering how I survived all these years without tasting her. How I will survive any tomorrows without her.
I slip my tongue inside her slit and taste her juices. I lick hard, then slowly up until I’m almost at her clit, and then back down. She gets wetter and wetter as I try to devour her lick by lick.
She cries out my name and God’s as she thrusts against my mouth. We are in purgatory together, and she deserves so much more. She deserves heaven. Therefore, I finally circle her clit and suck it between my lips. And in her cries and moans, in the way her body responds, at the wetness covering my mouth, I know I have delivered her there.
I look up at her and watch as she basks in her release. I allow her a moment to enjoy it before shoving my tongue harshly inside her as I thrust my cock against the mattress, fucking it like I should be her. However, my need is driven by the addictive taste of her cunt, overtaking my need for my own pleasure.
When my balls are so tight I feel them nearly in my throat, I throw my head back and allow her name to release into the cool, evening breeze as my cum spills on her silk sheets.
“Franco,” she pants. “Did you—”
“Shh,” I tell her, laying my face on her thigh and kissing the soft skin as she gently rubs her fingertips over my scalp.
“But …”
“Valentina, bellissima Valentina, shhh,” I sigh.
“Okay.”
After several moments, my eyes become heavy.
“Are you asleep, Franco?”
“Not yet,” I whisper.
“Will you sleep between my legs, amante, or share a pillow with me?”
“This is heaven, Valentina. I prefer to be here. But if you need—”
“Stay, amante, stay.”
I wake groggy but not confused. I look down between my legs to beautiful black waves of silky hair covering my bare abdomen. I feel her lips against places I know well. Places I have been stabbed or cut.
I don’t move. I lie still in selfish acceptance of the care she gives me. Then I feel myself harden fast, so fucking fast.
With her fingertip, she lightly traces my head before she leans down and licks it.
She licks up the underside of my cock, her tongue flat, applying the perfect amount of pressure. Then she reaches down and cups my balls. I allow my legs to fall apart.
She looks up at me, and then back down.
“You want to taste me, Valentina, do it.”
She licks the pre-cum from my tip then licks it again before looking up, seeking approval as she strokes me up and down.
I push into her hand as she pulls her hair to one side then descends, taking as much of me as she can. With her tongue flat against my heated veins, she sucks hard as she ascends. The breeze blows against my wet and heated, saliva-soaked skin. Then she wraps her hand around it, the warmth of her touch as welcoming as the harsh suction on the half of my cock still in her hot fucking mouth.
She pumps harder, sucking fiercely before she descends again, gripping my cock as if it’s hers to do with as she pleases.
Her mouth leaves me momentarily as she slides her tongue down the underside again, not stopping at the root. She sucks one of my balls inside her mouth, rubbing her tongue around, under, and on top while gently sucking. She lets it fall out of her mouth, licks up my cock again, and then back down where she sucks the other ball the same way.
Pushing myself up on my elbows, I watch her suck both in her hot, wet mouth then listen to her moan as if it pleases her. I know it does.
“Voglio mangiarti la fica.” I want to eat your pussy, I tell her, sitting up and gripping her hips before swinging her body around.
Her pussy on my face and her mouth on my cock, I momentarily believe I am in heaven, not stuck in purgatory on my way to hell.
She grinds against my face as I thrust into her mouth, giving, receiving, tasting, sucking, pleasing, and taking pleasure.
She gasps as her pussy contracts around my tongue. She’s coming.
“Don’t stop, Valentina, don’t stop.” I replace my tongue with my finger and suck her clit as she pumps and sucks me until I come with her.
Panting, she begins to dismount, but I hold her still by gripping her ass and pulling her down atop me. I wrap my arm around her waist and hold her heated, sweat-slicked, cum-moistened skin against my body.
After several moments, she sighs. “I need a shower.”
I look left and see it’s just after one in the morning.
She slides off me, naked and beautiful. I watch her walk to the bathroom and consider getting up myself, but I’m fucking exhausted.
I hear water running, and then she walks out of the bathroom, still naked, her hair pulled to the side. She walks to the bed and holds out her hand. “Come join me.”
“I don’t want to move.”
When she leans down and kisses me, I realize, as much as I missed her pussy, I may have missed this affection even more.
Against my lips, she whispers, “You smell like pussy.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
She laughs. “Come with me.”
“I don’t think—” I stop when she kisses me again.
She whispers against my skin. “Come.” She then takes my hand and pulls me up. I step off the bed and follow behind her.
Nine years ago, I wouldn’t have been impressed with the grandeur of her home, but after living in a ten by twelve room for most of those years, walking into a bathroom twice the size reminds me of leaving my childhood home and walking into the Segretti estate.