Connor couldn’t help but laugh aloud at how things turned out. No one would hear him as his small, one-bedroomed apartment was situated on the third floor of an old, stucco-fronted building a klick or two from the center of Milan. The noise of the traffic in the street below would drown out any sound that he might make.
It would help if he closed out the drone of the traffic, but he wasn’t intent on doing that. Instead, he leaned on the railing, that was set into the walls on either side of the window, on the outside. The ornate ironwork and a small fake balcony allowed him to gaze safely out over the rooftops and at the city’s skyline. Not far below his vantage point was a small park, the grass turning brown, and the only greenery was the canopy of the trees lining the paths that crisscrossed this open space.
He walked along them, every day, on his way to work at Studio Cattaneo, a niche architects’ practice where he was spending two months as an intern. A graduate from Manchester School of Architecture he already had some three years of invaluable experience under his belt and the two months placement was something he had dreamt of for some time. It would allow him to deploy his knowledge of advising clients on delivering urban regeneration projects, giving new life to redundant city buildings, for multi-use occupation, in an ever-changing world that was becoming ever more reliant on technology and remote working.
He was only into the start of his third week of the two-month placement, the practice in London that he worked for had an association with Cattaneo, as they were known, and Luca Cattaneo had nothing but praise for his work so far, his timekeeping not to be criticized, but the days were long. He loved the hours, with a start of the day at around nine in the morning, a two-hour lunch break if you wanted or needed it, but finishing, some nights, at eight or even nine. The work itself gave him a buzz so he didn’t mind the hours he kept.
Luca and his PA mentored him, but he was left to get on with tasks that were set on various projects within a multidisciplinary and international design team of experienced architectural professionals whose names were on some of the buildings which he had already visited alone, out of hours, or in the company of a woman who had befriended him, or had he chased her when they had met quite by chance on his first Saturday afternoon at one of the many iconic galleries that were scattered about the city.
He had only been in Milan, and at work, for a week but Emilia Fiore already beguiled him, her olive skin, dark eyes, and luxuriant silken dark brown hair, verging on black, being cut short and brushed back from an almost perfectly oval face. Its style revealed stud earrings, of various shapes and colourful hues, and Emilia possessed what could only be described as a luxurious figure; one that she clothed smartly, and stylishly, and only hinted at what lay underneath.
To be in her company, when he had chanced upon her at a gallery and Emilia was alone there, took some of the sting away from having been ditched by his girlfriend of two years. The news had come in only too modern ways, by a curt text message that had been looked at when he was in the stillness of the gallery and with Emilia close by his side, a touch to his arm or a few words murmured to him, as they stood close, drawing his attention to what she wanted him to see and for them to talk about. It had soon become clear that they had shared interests and that neither was afraid to voice an opinion on what was to be seen.
‘Is it bad news?’ she had whispered in her lilting voice, her English heavily accented and her look on him wondering.
‘Yes, but I can take it,’ he had sighed but he was not the least surprised at what was to be read on the screen. The hours spent at Studio Cattaneo, and his absence from her, had been too much for Becky and she’d never understood what drove him to put in the hours, both at home and, now, here. But the sight of the buxom woman beside him offered a wonderful distraction and her knowledge of the art on display was worth listening to if he could concentrate on that and not on her, the modest clothes she was seen to wear in the office having him wonder what lay underneath. ‘I think this is how you say it: “Una relazione è finita”.’
‘Mi dispiace,’ she had replied on a touch to his arm that lingered for only an instant, but enough to let him know that she was sorry and bound up with him now, in what had happened, and what might follow while he was in her company and they both worked at Studio Cattaneo. ‘I go through that too, a while ago, if you understand me?’
‘I do, but I don’t understand how it could have happened.’ It was a clumsy way of saying it but he meant every word.
‘Meno dei tuoi complimenti,’ she had responded, smiling, but the look in her eyes upon him suggested that she liked to hear him tell her that.
‘È solo la verità,’ had gone on to tell her but he had not pressed the point.
They had walked on in the low light of the gallery, the walls painted in a range of soft pastel greys and blues, some greens, that showed off, to full effect, the gilded frames of iconic works of art by their famed creators.
‘There is so much to see and to learn…’
‘Yes, Connor,’ she had agreed in her captivating voice, ‘ and I visit places like this to take my mind away from bad things. I step out into another world, tu mi capisci?’
‘Si…yes, I understand, and it helps to have company when you do that.’ They had stopped to admire a giant painting of the Last Supper. ‘I won’t be offended if you want to walk on, to be on your own if that’s what you need. People back home have a word to describe young guys with an older, and may I say attractive, woman…’
He knew that he had fallen for her natural beauty. It seemed that she may have realized that too, for she wore little makeup, just a touch of a soft reddish-pink lipstick on her lovely, full, lips. It was a look that other women might envy and that belonged to a woman some years older than he was. He simply found Emilia alluring and sexy, a curvaceous woman that had him wondering how she could have been left for someone else.
‘Be quiet on that.’ There had been the briefest touch of her slender fingers to his lips, her wonderful hazel eyes stilled as Emilia looked at him. ‘How it looks does not matter to me…and if it does not with you, I hope?’
‘It doesn’t and it won’t.’ He flirted with her and she responded.
Everything in this city, from its people to its squares, colourful buildings, and a breathtaking range of architectural gems, was engaging his attention and in her company, here and now, or when they met in the office only briefly. Then, he felt that he had fallen under her spell. Perhaps Emilia already knew that and dared not tell him, just yet, for she gave him no sign of having taken that in.
And then, they had strolled through the streets talking animatedly about what was to be seen, her arms brushing his, a look and smile exchanged, a pause to take something in before they had ended up seated in a café under the domed roof of glass and metal tracery that covered the Victor Emmanuel shopping arcade.
How he had wanted the woman that had seen seated before him, her fingers twirling a pendant necklace that hung on her breastbone, the graceful ways that she would sweep back her hair, short as it was, as if to draw his eye to her. Emilia seemed to have a passionate heart beating beneath her skin, under her large firm breasts, the movements of her hands so expressive of what she was talking about.
‘I hope that this is not the only time we are together like this,’ he had admitted, his eyes drifting over her and glimpsing her cleavage as she leaned against the edge of the table and said something to confide in him. The woman’s dress sense was perfect, effortlessly chic even for a weekend, maybe because it was a weekend, and she could express herself once more, by wearing tapered slacks, tan-leather pumps, along with a loose-fitting flouncy blouse with lace trim.
She had gripped his hand to acknowledge the unlikely pass that he had made, touching her leg and reaching under the table so that it was less obvious. ‘I would like that too, my smart young Englishman. You dress well and I like that in you, even when you are in the office. You have standards and I do not see that too much in younger men now.’
He had invested in two lightweight suits; one in sky blue and the other tan, believing that to be in a city renowned for fashion he had to try and play his part, the suits worn with a neatly pressed cotton shirt open at the neck. Emilia had noticed, whereas no one else had commented on it but all abiding by the standards that Luca Cattaneo set.
‘And when can we meet again?’ he had prompted, only too eager to press the point.
‘Soon, over lunch perhaps, discreet and just the two of us, Connor. But…but I cannot let others know that we have met like this. Discretion is importante, you understand,’ she suggested earnestly and had reached across the table to touch his hand that fidgeted with a cardboard mat before he took a sip from his drink. Their snack lunch was finished, and Emilia had known that he had work to do that afternoon along with a visit to moneyed clients that Luca wished him to meet, even if it was the weekend. ‘So, I will give you my email address and we can talk that way and see where your interest in me takes us.’
To my bed lovely woman, if I have my way, he thought but his look upon her would have given the game away. Emilia’s soft, wondering, smile and unblinking answering stare suggested that she was with him in what was happening and that he had been bold enough to make known from simply his look upon her.
♥
Emilia waited for her laptop to boot up and soon signed in. A familiar screen saver appeared and when she checked her inbox she was disconcerted to see an email from Connor sent, it seemed clear, from his iPhone. He had listened to what she had said over lunch about discretion, but she had not added patience. She had soon taken to wondering if she possessed that too, urgency, where it concerned meeting up again.
The image of the young man’s face was already etched into her memory – she would take a picture on her iPhone sometime to remind herself of him and, perhaps, show her closest women friends and those who could be relied upon for discretion. They would, no doubt, be dismayed at her choice of a young man, his thoughtful look, his impossibly straight eyebrows, and lovely green-brown eyes that, she often sensed, were taking in every detail about her. She understood what had provoked that look upon her and it confounded what so many had said about how ‘reserved’ the English were. That his girlfriend had shown him the door seemed not to have lain behind that look upon her and she felt uncommonly thrilled that it was so.
Hello Emilia! I’ve only just come home from work, the meeting with Luca going well and the building we looked at was unreal. Only in Italy can you see such forward-design thinking. Only in Italy could I have met someone like you. I am glad that we had time together today. Surprises are everything and so is discretion! C
Emilia smiled and tapped out her reply, choosing to do so from her laptop which she found easier, the keyboard not so fiddly that you had typos, or she made them, slender as her fingers were, and the neatly varnished nails cut square.
Hello, I am glad you are home Connor! It’s way too late to be at work even if you love what you’re doing. There’s one Italian lady, or woman, that is flattered by your ways with her. Call me ‘Emi’. I would like that, and it is less formal. Emi
Their exchanges began to fly, thick and fast, Connor deciding to close out the night sounds from the street below. He couldn’t keep from thinking of her, the woman with her hourglass figure, nicely rounded hips, and, frankly, her large breasts that were full and rounded in shape. He’d seen her often enough, about the office, in her work clothes, to know they were firm or else a support bra would detract from her shapely beauty and distort the clothes she wore. He’d taken all of that in when they had been together, and he craved to be with her so much more, the woman who was no pampered beauty but who engaged his attention simply because of who she was; by being with her in the museum of art. Hearing her talk knowledgeably had informed him that it was so, and she would be the antidote for all that had played out with Becky, an ‘ex’ now, back home.
Well, Emi, you no longer need to wonder if I’m thinking of you and that I want to go out on another date. Nothing has to happen, and everything can. I would like to be with the woman you are, in a stimulating atmosphere, and when it suits you. I’m trying to keep a hold of reality and not assume too much. C
He wondered if their exchanges would continue to be as lengthy as they had begun, but long text messages hinted that Emi was becoming ever deeper involved with him and not keeping her messages, or replies to his, brief and to the point until moments ago.
Enough for tonight, Connor! Emi
And so, in the office, time was still found to send a cryptic message to her, and to give a warning of a text that she might find shocking. It would be sent after they closed at the end of a working day. Emi resisted the temptation to provoke him into sending it earlier than he had planned. But she did send a few words.
Hello, sorry to intrude but were you planning to tell me of a fantasy lurking in that head of yours? Emi
Perhaps! Connor
As he sent the text Connor wondered if he should go so far as to say just what was on his mind about them. Texting was all very well, a tease, but it did nothing for the ache of longing that he felt for the woman, older as she was than him, but with a figure that wound his clock. He hadn’t seen her as ‘hot’, or even sexy, although he had noticed over the short time he had been at Studio Cattaneo that she did not allow younger women to outdo her in their appearance. Emilia was always perfectly groomed, her eyebrows were plucked, and she wore just a touch of makeup, just enough to accentuate her beautiful Latin features and wonderful skin.
It was getting on for midnight when Emi texted again.
Why keep me waiting, tu provochi! I may have heard it all before but not from you. Emi
Oh, she felt provoked, did she? He smiled when he read that, yawning as he made his way into the bedroom, the double bed shoved into a corner so that the early morning sun, through the window’s thin curtains, didn’t wake him earlier than he wanted.
Emi, tu bella donna! You’ve provoked me into telling you what is on my mind and has been for a long time, ever since we met for the first time out of the office, in that gallery. I want to be with you, to touch you, to caress the little bumps that you have (!). You’ve seen me looking at you, so it’s no secret what I feel, is it? I want to press my lips to your skin, to feel your breasts against my face, and then to feel your warmth around me. There, the secret’s out and now I’m wondering if you’ve had the same thoughts and when I would ask it of you. Sleep on it, as I will and I’ll see you tomorrow, tu bella donna. A picture of you would be wonderful, one that you agree to me having. C
She read it in bed and reached out to the bedside table when her iPhone bleated to announce that a message had been received. She touched herself feeling a rush of longing course through her body. She drew the hem of her thin nightgown up over her thighs as she read the text and the message between the few lines. Yes, Connor had come onto her and, yes, she knew what he was after besides a picture. Friends, singles just like her, had taken some at a birthday feast, and only of them, women and no men anywhere to be seen.
C, I am still awake, and your text has not come as any surprise. That you feel the way you do for me is, though. Make of the picture I am sending what you want. Reality is better than the image, I think, but I would say that wouldn’t I? Emi
She hoped he wouldn’t play with himself in frustration, jerk off with his hand working rhythmically, just as she had been tempted to do while waiting for his text that expressed his interest in her. No, it was an expression of his lust for her, but he hadn’t put a foot wrong in the time that they had known each other. He had said nothing but had let his eyes do the work, until now.
A horny young man, a gifted architect, and a demonically hard worker wanted her body, her big-breasted and broad-hipped body, and she was ready to meet him in their shared quest to ease the tension that had arisen between them.
Sorry, C, one last thing. I know where your apartment is. I deal with some admin work as you know. So, it’s all I can do not to get out of my empty bed and come to your place. Think of that and me, won’t you? Tomorrow, during our lunch break, we can find a way to settle this, okay? It’s forward of me, I know, but you have broken through this Italian woman’s defences and now there’s only one answer for how she feels. Emi
♥
‘I loved the pictures that you sent,’ she heard him murmur as Connor stood by her workstation, a roll of drawings thrust under his arm to make it look as if they were talking business. ‘You are una bella donna. Make it real, for me, please, or tell me I shouldn’t be feeling the way I do whenever you are near me?’
‘I have, I texted you.’
‘I know, but I wasn’t to be here with you when you say it.’
Emi nodded; she felt the night had been passed with thoughts of nothing else but lying with him. ‘One o’clock in your apartment Wait for me there. I will leave here after you.’ She paused for only a moment. ‘Which picture was it that you liked the most?’
♥
She didn’t want it to look as if she was in a rush to go to lunch, but her thoughts drove her on. Her shoes seemed to clatter too loudly on the pavement, but they were in time with her raging thoughts of her kneeling before him and taking his prick in her mouth. Then she wanted to brazenly stand with her legs parted so that he could see her sex, her hands tugging on his hair and to have him eat her out, to use his fingers as he did so, until she had come several times. She wanted to lie back on his bed and for them to call out to each other that it was happening, that they were fucking each other, and he did what he wanted with her breasts.
Their heavy swell had been revealed so teasingly in one picture that she had sent him, her tank top scarcely covering them. She wanted to feel him in her body, at the edge of her pussy, then penetrate and take her. She wanted the young man to rhythmically make love until their bodies convulsed from pleasures shared and they had eased away their frustration of talking and looking, not doing it.
She had never put a foot wrong at work, had never lusted after or been claimed by a co-worker, but here she was, at the street door to his apartment block and she looked up to see him wave as Connor looked down from the wide-open window he stood at.
He wouldn’t hear what she wanted to call out to him, the noise of the traffic was too great. It wasn’t so different from where she lived, but it was her place. Connor would have her in his love nest, a place for just the two of them, and it would be but a temporary haven where they would know of each other and put to an end their frustration.
How wonderful that she would be loved again and in the afternoon. She needed to have her mind and body filled by a new and attentive lover, the first time so special as you learned of each other, could see and touch what had lain hidden from sight and imagined, even hoped for.
♥
‘Which picture was it?’ she gasps through his kisses, her hands tugging on his shirt and then sliding over his stomach as she fumbled for his belt. He’s pulling away her blouse and his eyes widen. Connor groans as his eyes take in what she will bring to his sight and touch, the firm swell of her breasts now to be seen straining in a thin bra.
‘The black top with its many shoulder straps, thin and so sexy. It was like a second skin, but now I can see and touch you for real.’
‘Touch them…love them…love with me!’ she gasps as Connor presses his mouth to their swell, sinks his lips over the thin fabric, and closes his lips around one nipple and then the other. There is only urgency as they undress, the rage and flurry of kisses and questing caresses as they fall naked on the bed, his face between her breasts, his mouth on her nipples as her hands reach for him and she knows now what he will bring to her.
‘So thick and long! You frighten me with your desire!’
She lifts her hips from the bed, and she gasps in sudden pleasure as the domed tip of his penis glides into her in a single stroke, her moist warm flesh eagerly wrapping around it.
‘You are so wet…so…so ready,’ he groans as he seeks to plumb her body, to go deeper and she moves so that she can take him where he so wants to be.
‘Go on…go on, you wonder! I’m yours…I’ve known this would happen with you when we first met!’
They give in to their raging passion; tenderness and concern are forsaken. They lust for each other and move to take all that can be shared, her body wanting his attention upon it and to feel his rocking and tamping moves take her breath away. Emi claws at his skin, writhes, and bucks her hips to meet his plugging of her in a tempestuous mix of slow and erratic rhythms.
‘Sorry, but this won’t take long…sorry…sorry.’ He kisses, the act of possession more important than paying attention to her body and all that she brings. She has welcomed him and seeks to love without restraint.
‘It’s the same for me!’ she cries out, possessed by the delicious feeling of how her body is being claimed and how Connor fills her. Wave after wave of pleasure rage through her and she grips her breasts, pinches her nipples as he leans over her and loses it. ‘Yes!’
Emi clings to his body as Connor crushes her in his embrace. She gasps and lifts her hips from the bed on feeling the spurts of his release splatter deep in her body, her fingers digging into his buttocks, and she shudders; she is overwhelmed by the rapid snaps of her orgasm, their kisses silencing snorted breaths of pleasure as they chase every moment of consummation and their lust for each other.
‘Emi, you wonder, you feel so good around me!’ he calls out.
‘There’s more, darling Connor…but tonight.’ She wraps her arms around his neck, her clammy thighs around his waist, and basks in the heat of their bodies. ‘You have pleased me…done so well.’
‘I wanted to do that.’ Connor eases away, enough, to look down into her eyes and kiss her parted lips, gently and gratefully. He finds the warmth of her fleshy body intoxicating; her ways of loving utterly draining.
‘I know, I felt that too.’ She pulls him down against her once more. ‘Stay close to me like this, please. I need that.’
In a perfect world, she knows, they would lie together with him still deep inside her body and they could submit to the languor and pleasure of a passionate and prolonged tryst. They would share moments of slow lovemaking, and take time to delight in each other.
Connor eases out of her and she shivers, brushes a wondering hand over his back, and sees, really for the first time, how toned and slender his body is. There is such energy and passion in him, and she makes Connor turn and look at her for the first time.
‘Glorious…naked…and beautiful,’ he murmurs before bending over her to kiss her parted lips. ‘Glorioso…nudo e bello,’ he says again, and he relents in needing to move away and get some lunch to share, a drink at least. It would be only too easy to become lost in what they have discovered. ‘There will be other times…’
‘Si, I know, but we have crossed a bridge and I do not know what is waiting for us.’
♥
There was no pattern to their times together, or when they would meet at his apartment and take to each other in more measured and prolonged trysts. At such times Emi would be overwhelmed once more by his passion to know of her fulsome body that she always clothed so discreetly for her days in the office.
But at the weekends that would change; out would come the camisole tops, strappy vests, a camisole dress, and even a cropped red and white striped vest that she had worn with white baggy pants, floaty and gathered at her slender ankles, her sandalled feet beautiful, Emi’s manner relaxed. He had a picture of her clothed in that way for a blisteringly hot day, seated on the low wall of the marble fountain in Piazza Castello, licking ice cream. He had known again, later, what had lain behind her soft smile as she looked at the camera.
The weekends would pass in a rush of sightseeing, Connor working on making a model of a design idea for Luca, or she preparing a meal and humming quietly to herself as her iPhone played music. And then came the frenzy of lovemaking following the rush to undress, the grope of hands that were pushed away and to tease for a while longer.
‘Your attention on me is unquenchable,’ she had said to him, the Italian word so evocative of what he felt, as they walked into the Sforza Castle close by, her explanations of the history all around them silencing him for long stretches as he listened, in rapt attention, to the wonderful woman beside him.
‘And I allow you to wear me out,’ he had laughed before jumping away from her playful slap to his arm.
A month of his internship had already passed, Connor’s use of Italian improving, his pronunciation so much better and his struggle for the right words was often helped by Emi who did so naturally, as if they were partners. At such moments they would exchange a glance and smile. The bonds of affection seemed to be tightening all on their own and Emi would say so, but to herself in a barely audible whisper. She was smitten by the younger man beside her, getting deeply involved with her smooth-faced lover with his brooding brown eyes, his lean body, and always chirpy conversation that carried their times together along. His vitality astonished her; his vitality was something she needed; his vitality and closeness were missed when they weren’t together. She lived in a vacuum, so it felt, for her friends did not know whom she had fallen into step with.
Her time of the month had passed, passion having been replaced, for a while, by companionship and the tightening bond that dismayed her for its suddenness. Connor was already speaking of what a wrench it would be to leave the city, the studio, and most of all her.
‘You are my goddess, mia dea,’ he had told her and she understood his English yet was taken by his use of her native tongue. His loving of her then had made her feel that it was so, but Connor had murmured it to her as she stood by her workstation, a roll of drawings under his arm and in a rush to get to a client meeting with Luca and others. ‘I can make lunch…’
‘I can be with you all night in your place,’ she had answered in a whisper and not looking at him but to see if anyone was looking on at them. They weren’t.
‘Until tonight, mia dea.’
It kept on being enough that he said it to her and that he meant it. Could she let go and not feel that she had to deny that, crazy as it was, she was falling in love with the young man who was far from restrained when they were alone together, but attentive at the same time; considerate and not selfish.
A deepening bond was forming, and she didn’t want to think about how it would be broken when his internship came to an end.
♥
Emi lay back, propped up by the pillows behind her shoulders, a satisfied smile to be seen on her full lips that were now a soft natural colour, the brilliance of her soft smile engaging him all over again. Her beautiful, regal face was flushed from what had been shared, Connor kissing her lipstick away, or her mouthing of him had begun that in what he now knew were her practised and tempestuous ways of loving with him, all restraint forsaken.
His bed had rocked and tapped the wall as they loved, the covers shoved to the floor as they writhed in pursuit of each other, her energy so much a part of Emi’s passionate and experienced ways. A gold pendant, with the letter ‘E’ embossed upon it, hung at the hollow of her throat and matched the gold stud earrings, with a blue jewelled center, she had worn ever since they had met for another tour of a gallery, of modern art this time, that Emi said he simply had to visit. The day before had passed as if in a whirl, and they had ended up in his apartment once more and she hadn’t left it. Now, her skin had a soft glow, the darker brown of her nipples only making them seem larger and so suggestive of the woman he had loved with through the night and into the early morning.
‘What is it now?’ she asked. Emi’s smile was all the more beautiful, her teeth a glacial white compared to her lips. She looked up as she teased him by brushing her fingers suggestively over her breasts, their indolent sag engaging his attention once more as Connor stood naked before her, unashamed. ‘Have I not satisfied you enough?’
He remained captivated by the sight of her, by the memory of the silken soft skin of her thighs when she had wrapped them around his body. It was during such moments that he felt that he had been taken to unbearable heights by the woman who lay before him, each of them having seduced away any restraint through kisses and caresses, the loving away of any inhibitions they may have felt.
‘I just love seeing you, like this, or with your clothes on. You are so much a woman to me. Nothing you do can keep that from me.’
The longer their affair continued, the more difficult it became for him to work in Cattaneo’s drawing office, trips with Luca to meet clients a welcome distraction but only delaying what would follow when they could be alone again, the tempestuous ways that they pursued when took to each other once more.
‘And I do not know where this will take us.’ He knelt on the floor beside her, and she moved to kiss him; drew his head down to the tumble of her breasts. Oh, how they ached from the attention that he had paid to them. ‘I do not dare to think too far ahead either.’
‘Then don’t, because I’m not. I am trying to keep every moment I am with you alive and cannot let that get in the way of my work. Luca would get to wondering what has happened to me.’
‘And what is that?’
‘You know that already, Emi…I have shown you or tried to.’
He stood up and moved away from the bed, sought to gather up his clothes and get ready to go back to the office and continue his work, somehow. The office lunch hours passed with them rushing to get to his apartment and his bed.
Emi followed him and he could not keep from embracing her once more, standing behind her and cupping her firm, but heavy breasts, in his hands. He caressed them slowly, wonderingly, Emi’s hands joining his in their shared touches upon them before she reached behind her back to grip his far-from-flaccid penis. It was not erect, but she knew that to continue in her claims upon it would soon have the desired effect.
‘Will you ever have enough of me?’ she asked, her voice trembling and her halting breaths revealing the effect that he again had upon her.
‘No, I don’t think that I ever will. You’re a beautiful and passionate woman and I am lucky to be able to be with you in every way that matters, while I am here.’ He had gloried in her hourglass figure, in the warm flesh of the woman he now held in his arms and was reluctant to let go. ‘You exhaust me in your loving. You share with me, and you guide me…you’ve certainly taken me.’
She squirmed and was able to press against him and share in deep, open-mouthed kisses, then meeting his wondering look upon her. Connor then eased out of her embrace and went down the hall to the cramped, fully tiled, and echoing bathroom. Emi followed. A douche of cold water might calm them both down.
‘I need to wash you off my skin, here,’ she smiled in the mirror as she met once more his look upon her and where her fingers lingered. ‘I cannot wash away the thoughts that I have of you, of us being together. I need to be careful, or you will spoil me.’
‘Nothing else?’ he asked, again embracing her and sliding his hands over her wet skin. He wanted to hold the woman whose reflection he saw in the mirror and to keep on seeing her wondering smile.
‘We can talk about it tonight when we have more time, and if you think I should be here again?’
Connor cupped her face in his hands, and she gripped his wrists meeting his wondering stare into her eyes before they drifted down. He could see and feel her press against him. To do that, once more, inflamed his senses but he simply had to go back to the studio.
‘Yes, I want that, and if I have the energy.’
‘That goes for me too,’ she laughed before rising on tiptoes to kiss him. ‘Now, we must go…go back to another world.’
♥
The change in their worlds came with the news that Studio Cattaneo announced it using an internal email. Connor’s internship was to be extended and altered so that he travelled between the practice back home in the UK and here in Milan. His life, such as it was with Emilia could blossom still further if they each chose for it to happen.
‘I no longer have to worry,’ was all that Emi had texted on their private iPhone link when she had the opportunity to do so and on hearing the news that, despite their relationship, he had been unable to disclose.
A celebratory dinner had been shared in a hidden gem of a restaurant, to celebrate; the narrow and cobbled street it had been found on lined by old-city towering properties and with their balconies festooned with flower trays. The time had passed slowly, they had both wished it to be so, and much had been spoken of that was deeply personal.
‘I can love with you and not have to wonder when it will be for the last time,’ she had confessed, leaning over the edge, on her side of the table, to grip his hand that he slid across the polished surface. Emi’s cleavage and the baubles of her necklace that lay against it, had been a deliberate provocation, the actions of a woman who was often in control of what would follow between them.
‘So, you think it will be different from now on?’ he smiled and drew the waiter’s attention so that the bill could be paid.
‘There is only one way to find out Tesoro.’
He would treasure, for sure, what he hoped would follow, Emilia in his bed and the window open. At this hour of the night, the streets beyond were quiet and the soft evening breeze wafted the curtains in a mesmerizing sway that matched their mood.
♥
Emi moved to lie against him, her cheek pressing down on his chest as she gazed down before reaching to take his now flaccid penis and stroking it. Long and thick it remained, its domed tip glistening from the sex they had shared. She kissed the hood and held his sac that was no longer full and heavy, kneading the rough and wrinkled skin.
‘You bring so much to me,’ she now kissed, her lips moving over his belly as Connor’s hand swept lazily over her back in slow, wondering, sweeps. She couldn’t keep from shivering, every nerve in her body and she sensed in his also, feeling on fire.
‘I do that to a passionate woman,’ he replied in a low, satisfied voice, ‘but you’ve heard that from me before.’
‘And I love hearing you say it.’ She moved to sit on him, straddled his hips with her fleshy legs before leaning forward to have her breasts, her nipples, sweep over his body, then down over his penis, Connor reaching down and pushing it between them so that she could caress it, her halting breaths again on his lips. She did not kiss him, simply shared in slow breaths of pleasure and acknowledgment of all that they had succumbed to once more. ‘We will have to be careful, love safely…my time is due in a few days, and I do not want anything to happen that makes you feel that you are obligated to me.’
He had heard the word, ‘obligato’, spoken out in fear.
Emi had not asked him to use a condom, even if her ways had resulted in him flooding her with all that his sac could hold, the excruciating pleasure not to be contained when their loving tipped them over the edge, and he’d burst; when he had sent bolts of his semen coursing through his prick and into her, the sensations that she aroused a searing heat that only their orgasms could extinguish, and that saw them settle in each other’s embrace and recover from their spent passion.
‘I’ll do what you ask of me. I don’t want anything to get in the way of us being together, Emi. I have known that almost from the moment we met in the gallery that first time.’
The moment had come, it now seemed, to acknowledge that infatuation with the voluptuous woman that he gazed at was becoming so much more. Emi seemed to draw as much comfort from being with him as he took from loving her; doing that in ways that went far beyond all that he had experienced with women before. Only the weeks of his stay in Milan were no .longer counting down inexorably; he could plan a different future with her and their relationship if that was how they each wished it to proceed.
Connor saw her wondering smile as she moved to gaze up at him and he was startled on seeing that, and the softer look of Emi’s eyes upon him.
‘Has it gone that far?’ he asked, moving to kiss her as she moved so that he could do so. ‘You want me to stay in your life, like this and so much more?
‘Si, it has.’
Bewildered, Connor had seen a look of contentment on Emi’s wonderful lips that suggested she too felt that the door on one life had closed, and another had opened, or it stood ajar, waiting for them to pass through and lead a new life, and to do that together.
♥
