1 comments/ 12564 views/ 2 favorites The Seduction of Venice Ch. 01 By: farfalla818 She sat in the shaded courtyard watching the reflective light off the water dance on the concrete ground and the walls of the Galleria dell'Accademia. She loved Venice. It was that simple. It was bursting with tourists, with high prices, and with vendors peddling inferior goods, but she still loved Venice. It was elegant and vibrant in its decay. The light in Venice was truly spectacular. She looked for a moment at one vista and if she returned the next day, to the very same spot, she was greeted with another picture. This was simply because the light never stood still for Venice. The generous waters surrounding her guaranteed Venice would glimmer, as much as it guaranteed her slow descent into the waters. She truly was a woman in love. She sat at a simple metal table in an elegant if uncomfortable chair sipping her limoncello. She was obsessed with limoncellos—anything that got her access to ice in August in Venice. Shadows came across her table and slid on as she spent time deciding where she wanted to go next. She looked up for the long shadow that slid resolutely and unfaltering across her map. He was perfect, utterly perfect to her. She instantly thought, "tall, dark, and handsome." Casual, quality clothing molded along his defined frame. His light olive skin glowed in the Venice light. But his silvery eyes were it for her. It was all over. She was in very heady lust. And with the lightest of accents, a beautiful voice spoke to her. "Scusi, the rest of the tables are filled, may I sit here with you?" She nodded and said, "of course, please". He sat easily. He had his newspaper and espresso before him. He neither leaned back nor away, but seemed intent on studying the woman before him. She became uncomfortable and smiled at him half out of embarrassment. "I saw you in the gallery before. You seemed to be very much...interested in the Canaletto paintings of Venezia. You did give the Titians and Tintorettos a good glance too." He smiled as he spoke, and she could hear it in his voice. "Yes, I glided right past the large galleries," she said laughingly. "I came only for the visions of Venice—those are some of my favorite paintings anywhere. I love Venice. I love how he captures this city dancing in the light. There is such beauty." He murmured straight back, "such beauty". He was keenly observing blue green eyes that benefited from the Venetian light themselves—though they hardly needed it. Those eyes had startled more than one dreary worker in Mexico, Poland, Russia... They looked up from behind a cash register in their tiendas or tabaks to the next customer. And they were stunned by green/ blue eyes set in a pale white face. The young woman had received more than a few hasty complements on her eyes. The young woman also had no idea how captivating and contagious her broad, large smile was. She looked young for her mid twenties, very girlish and innocent. "Are you taking a holiday in Venice?" she asked. "Yes, a short one. And Venice is always a favorite haunt of mine. And you, I assume this is a return visit?" "My third. I came here during my university years while backpacking and a second occasion with my mother. And now I'm enjoying traveling on my own. Where are you from?" "I live in Roma but my family and where I spent time as a child is from a town called Caserta in the Campania region. The Amalfi coast and Naples is somewhat near." "I've been to Naples and to Pompeii." "Yes? And you did not go to the Amalfi coast?" "No, we were backpacking and we immediately left for Brindisi to.." "To catch the ferry to Patras" he interjected. "Yes, I know—how typical tourist of you." He grinned a perfect devastating smile. This man is an aphrodisiac in human form she thought. I'm melting away... "You're Italian and in Venice—possibly the most tourist filled of all cities," she countered. "Possibly, I agree signorina. And you are from?" "A northern suburb of Dallas, Texas. Don't say one word about the television show Dallas, I beg you." "I would never." He had yet to look away. His eyes held hers the moment he sat down. He neither moved closer or fell back in a relaxed stance. He remained as he was, confident as he was, and entirely the dominant comfortable male the whole time. "And why exactly does a man from Roma notice an American staring at Canaletto paintings?" "Naturally, you were in my way. I could not view them." He held a straight face then smirked. "Right, ok, I kept you from viewing them." "Actually, signorina, I was admiring the view I liked best." His eyes remained locked with hers and his tone even. Venice's morning gave way to the warm sultry colors of the afternoon, and she fell pray to the seduction of Venice and this man before her. "Do you have plans on where else you are going today? I assume there is no must-see list since you have been here before?" he asked quietly and as evenly as ever. And in three sips he finished his espresso while she said, "I had thought to return to Murano. I did not spend as much time as I wanted previously." "And Burano, have you been there?" "The lace island? Yes I have, but I have also barely explored there." "I like the colorful homes." "So do I—that's part of why I want to go. I want to get better photos." "May I accompany you, signorina?" "Sure," she smiled giving him his first experience of her face completely aglow, "if I'm not keeping you from anything else." "There is nothing else that would be so enjoyable." She kept thinking how on earth did I attract such a man? He's just going with you she thought. Maybe he's bored. As she gathered her things off the table, a hand lightly stopped her arm, "Signorina, I think we should introduce ourselves," he suggested with a laugh. "I'm Alessandro Giordano." "I'm Chris Whitman." "Isn't that a man's name?" "Yes, I'm named for my father. It's actually Christine, but no one ever calls me that. If you can't handle Chris, then call me Christine—no biggie to me." They stood up and walked over to the vaporetto stop. "Can I ask something else that might irritate you?" Alessandro asked with a very wry again. "Just to get all awkwardness and uncomfortable social silences out of the way?" "Sure, but I have a question: where did you learn English? Everyone speaks it, but your ability is a higher level." He grinned showing his perfect teeth—a complete requirement Chris had for European men. "I spent some time in Cambridge studying. Now for my question: what happened to your hand?" "I was born that way. The circulation was cut off in utero to my left hand. It probably dissolved away. I've always had one had." "So you had two hands but then lost it when you were born" "Yes, they guessed 7-9 weeks after I was conceived. And yes I SCUBA dive and everything else, and no I do not wear a prosthetic." "I just wanted to ask, so you were not wondering if I was wondering." "Thanks," she said laughing. I am having an absurd and embarrassing conversation with a god for a man in Venice. I love travel, she thought. "It's like your creator took an eraser to your hand after you were drawn. I mean you're perfect." "I'm definitely not perfect. I have a temper, I'm sarcastic, I have freckles on my arms." She looked down at her arms. He looked too. They got on the vaporetto. He never stopped looking. "You are perfect." he announced. And that was it, after a man like that has spoken, how can a woman disagree? She followed Alessandro off the vaporetto up the street in Murano thinking that man sure knows women. Hmmmm. That means one thing. He's probably been with hundreds of women. And he looks older. "Alessandro?" "Yes?" a very solicitous and very delicious Alessandro turned to Chris. "How old are you?" "39. And I'm guessing early twenties for you?" "25." He nodded agreeing with his previous assessment—she looked younger than 25. "Do we want to watch an exhibition of glass blowing or see a 'museum'?" "I really just want to walk around." They strolled up and down the streets. He frequently took her arm. He would brush up against her in hardly innocent ways, but by the time she looked up or reacted he was properly a foot away again. Italians!! And to think of all the men who'd pinched her ass in the 36 hours she'd been here! "What are you thinking about?" "What? Oh that I'm sick of having my ass pinched by random strangers, old men... It's the one awful thing about Italy." "It's a complement." "It's sexual harassment." He looked at her very incredulously. "Don't you dare say 'you Americans'—it really is very wro..." She stared at him. She could not finish her statement, and it seemed starting one was beyond her as well. "Yes?" a very smug and arrogant Alessandro asked. "You pinched me." "mmm, I did. It was a complement." "But I just said..." "You just said random strangers, old men got to, what you will not let me have the same privilege?" And now he was in her face, voice lowered, and intimately he placed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Shall we go?" "Yes" They moved on. When he pinched her, her body immediately responded. She couldn't remember ever being so wet, couldn't remember her breasts aching like this, and she knew she had never felt the currents in her body jolt like that from a man's touch. He's like a wine, a heady deeply intoxicating wine. And he knew what he was doing, dammit. They finally ate a small late lunch of sandwiches taken from a vendor. They picnicked and watched the waves. They moved onto Burano. Their conversation never let up—mainly because Chris was terrified to let it. If the conversation waned down, Alessandro's eyes darken and he stared at her or her body. He drank her in. She felt like a virtually eaten dessert and she was afraid of him, she became a chatterbox. Nor was he a fool, he realized what she was doing. If all he had wanted was an easy conquest, he would have been slightly annoyed. But he had decided the moment he saw her he wanted to romance her and then have her. And then the moment he saw her eyes he was not sure just at what point he intended to let her go. She was on holiday after having dropped her son off at her exhusband's. She'd been married to an Austrian—a weakness for Europeans it seemed. She was finishing a bachelor's in European history. He smiled at that. He already knew she was very intelligent. She spoke Spanish fluently; she spoke a little Italian due to two courses in college. She was up on current events and well-versed on general world politics and other shenanigans. She was very well traveled for a single mother who hailed from Texas. Her parents made sure she was. If she had been a man, they would have been buddies and talked politics and general American and European affairs all night just as they spending the day doing. But she was definitely not a man (thank God). Very importantly, she had unbelievably full, round breasts. He could not wait to get his mouth on them. They were on the vaporetto headed back for the main islands. He leaned in to his beautiful companion and turned her face to his. "Would you... care to join me for dinner, Christine?" "I'd love to, but I need to change clothes." "Not a problem". He dropped her off at her hostel. When he looked at it, he plainly asked, "How many roommates?" "3" "I see." "You see what just exactly?" "I see you have three roommates. I think when you are twenty-five and older hostels become less fun" "You do, well I wanted to save money for shopping and Venice is astronomical in terms of accommodations." "No, I understand, I was lamenting roommates." he said smiling at her. I bet he was "lamenting" roommates. "I just need an hour." "Fine, I will meet you here in one hour." Venice had cooled into a mellow, humid night. The lights went on, and the people came out to parade refreshed after siesta. Music started swimming through the air as groups performed for diners. Venice glitters at night. During her hour, Chris reshaved her legs. And then studied her available wardrobe. Chris travels very lightly. She is a huge supporter of one carry-on bag traveling. And her poor Patagonia bag had only a pair of pants and a 'on the shorter side' knit black skirt. Dresses are not practical for the money belt wearing set. She had a few shirts, nothing amazingly dressy or sexy. She was a practical nomad. She envisaged her closet. This does not compare with the shoes issue nor the fact she never carries a blow dryer. Two of her roommates walk in. They are both 19 and backpacking this month. They are apparently best friends since "forever". She would have bet $200 they were cheerleaders or dance squad girls in high school. But they had big internal frame backpacks. And a blow dryer. What greeted Alessandro was not as stunning a portrait as could be created in optimal circumstances, but it was damn good for the situation. Not only did they blow dry out Chris's hair, but the two girls had a curling iron and used it. The front half of her hair was done in large curls pinned up to the top of her head. She had done her make-up. She wore her skirt, one of the girls' tops that was at least somewhat sexy. She still had her shoes. Low, backless Børn Mary Janes. They were for walking, not seduction. Alessandro enjoyed the vision anyways. He nodded his approval and told her she looked beautiful. "May I?" He held out his hand to her. She took it. The Seduction of Venice Ch. 02 Alessandro studied Chris as he led her through the winding streets. He knew exactly where they were eating—at Antico Martini. It was overpriced like everywhere in Venezia, but the service was respectful and discreet, the food good if not great, and he was sure he could get them privacy. He wanted privacy. She was fascinating. He was bored like she had first guessed when he approached her. But he was bored with his life—not with her. He was a 39 year old bachelor—never married. He held degrees both in architecture and law. He owned an architect firm. Chris only knew very major architects. "At least she knew them," he thought. The general public rarely knows who built their important buildings. And they only sometimes appreciate them. "And at least she knew basic architectural elements—she knew the difference between the types of columns." He grinned. And she liked art. He saw her in the Galleria dell'Accademia. He fell in love watching her face. He just noticed her-he didn't know why. And he found himself following her through the museum. Usually, women approached him, but she never turned and acknowledged him. He enjoyed watching her in her own little world. After all the women, his body, his mind, his soul screamed at him to follow that one. And he did straight outside to the patio. Chris watched Alessandro studying her. She caught him grinning. She turned to him and asked what was he grinning about. "I got you to have dinner with me, baby. And you know columns." "Uh huh—we've been over that." She just grinned at him and shook her head. Crazy Italian. Crazy, gorgeous, sex god incarnate Italian…. Mmmmmmmmmmm….. "So any children?" "No, I have no children. I like them though. You have a son, right?" "Yes, 2 years old—he's my little love." The proud mama voice came in and spoke of her darling creature—her sweet and soft baby. "Course, I'm just his mother—he's 2 so he's over me now. Dogs and cats and boxes are way more interesting. His world expanded. I'm just the caretaker" she said laughing. "Do you want more?" he asked evenly—almost too much in a noncommittal tone. "Absolutely, always wanted 2. Always wanted a girl. You?" "Yes—always wanted them. I never cared about if it was a girl I had or a boy. I just always wanted a child." "So just never found the woman?" "Well, I thought so—I was engaged once." "And here I thought you were an eternal playboy." She laughed. But he stopped, took her face into his hands and said, "Carissima, I am going to play with you. But with you I'm playing very seriously." And he kissed both her cheeks. They stood like that very close together, faces bent towards each other. She looked in his eyes. She leaned forward. She wanted to taste his lips. He stepped back at the same moment. Her disappointment must have been obvious—her emotions always are. They fly across her face. He murmured, "later…" "So what happened with the engagement? how old were you?" "31 and I broke it off." "Why?" "Several reasons." "That really explains a lot, thanks" she said shaking her head. "If we talk about your divorce and my marriage that never happened we can have a very pleasant evening discussing bad things." He shook his head at her. "ok…." "ok???" He smiled at her. She smiled back. He basked in its warmth. "Here we are—Antico Martini." They were led back to a nice, quiet room. It was paneled with silk coverings that were hand-painted from the 18th century. A Venetian glass chandelier hung low above them. There were two other small tables besides theirs. But Alessandro had assured they would remain vacant for the evening. ***************** A cool breeze finally wafted its way into the suite and across Christine's bare skin. The sheet was twisted and barely covered her lower abdomen. She kicked one leg in the air, and then the other—stretching out luxurious in very kitten-esque movements. She had one heavy male arm draped across her chest though that encumbered her. She turned to her left and settled on her side coming face to face with Alessandro. He had been watching her. His arm tightened around her and drew her close. He nibbled on her lips. His hand cupped her breasts and Christine couldn't help but make the utterly female sound of contentment "ohhh…". He slowly kissed her deeper and deeper, engaging her tongue. She clung to him. He took his free hand and ran up and down her back, and then he pulled her left leg up on his hip. He fingered her. She was already so wet for him. He slid his tongue out of her mouth, and nibbled down the side of her jaw to her neck and gave that area considerable attention. "Please…." she moaned. "Mmmm, please what Carissima?" He inserted one finger and forced a second. She was gripping his upper arms. "Please, please fuck me." He stopped devouring her neck and looked her in the face. Both were breathing hard. "We are done with foreplay?" he said grinning at her. "We're done" she managed to say. "I need you now, please. Alessandro." He grinned. He loved begging. He pulled his fingers out and let go of her. Leaning over her body, he grabbed another condom off the nightstand. He settled back down in the same position. He tore it open, and held his dick steady as she rolled the condom down to the base. He pulled her leg high up on his torso and her hand helped guide him in her very wet pussy. She grimaced when he first entered. She was tight—even after one child. She had always been tight, and she had had a c-section--not a vaginal delivery. Alessandro kissed her pained expression away. "Relax. The more sex, the less pain." He grinned at her and then nipped at her shoulder while he drove in and out excruciatingly slow. Now it was feeling good to her. She reveled in having him inside her, his mouth on her, and his hands. This was so different from the first time they had sex. This was slow and relaxed. Alessandro started increasing his rhythm. He pressed further up with each stroke, grinding his dick against the sensitive flesh right in the upper canal of her vagina—the g-spot. She moaned. Her eyes darkened. She clawed his back. And she took his lower lip in his teeth. "My kitten responds just like a wild cat" he thought. "Better not tell her that either." He briefly paused and immediately she gasped "nooo…" "What do you want?" "Alessandro, please…" she cried out. God, he stopped. "Please, I was right there. Alessandro." One long torturous stroke in. "Alessandro…." Her voice started to escalate. He held her gaze. He stared into her eyes as he drew back and fucked her long and deep again. He let them regain their momentum while holding her gaze. He was leading, she realized. That was the point. "Are you going to cum for me?" "Yes, oh yes, just don't stop." He had been cupping her ass while he stroked. He started fingering her ass and stroked that opening. She closed her eyes and whimpered. "Don't close your eyes. Watch me as I fuck you." She snapped her eyes open. He leaned in and kissed her as she came. He felt per pussy contract around his dick. He felt the shudders through her body. And he caught her scream "Alessandro!!!" in his mouth. He didn't stop driving into her. She came a second time and the third fell on top of that one. He rolled her over onto her back. She panted heavily and in post orgasmic glow smile dreamily up at him. His face was intense as ever. "I want your mouth." "Please…..baby" she murmured. He could have had anything he wanted. She licked her lips. He felt himself about to cum, pulled out, ripped the condom off, and pulled her body down the bed. She leaned up for his dick. He gripped her hair and fucked her mouth a few strokes before he came in steady streams. She heard him say something in Italian as he came, but all she could concentrate on was the dick in her mouth and the semen she was swallowing. His dick went soft, his kitten milking every last bit of cum from him. He looked down at her. Her face and breasts were flushed, her eyes intense, and she had cum dribbling out of her mouth, down her jaw, onto the sheets. Her lips were swollen and so were her breasts. She was still breathing heavily. He leaned down and kissed her full on the mouth. He tasted himself—not his favorite thing but hell he kissed her after he ate her out earlier. The air wafting around them chilled down their sweaty skin. Suddenly both just wanted sleep. Christine got up. Alessandro looked at her. "Bathroom." she said. He smiled at her. He heard her brushing her teeth. He laughed. With what toothbrush he wondered? Do I have my semen on my toothbrush he started pondering… She walked back in. "Did you use my toothbrush?" "Ewwww. no. I have a toothbrush in my purse." "You do?" "Yeah, I was not a fool; I knew I could end up here." She grinned at him as she snuggled into him. He tucked her head under his chin. She mumbled against his chest. "We just had sex and you are worried about your toothbrush?" she asked incredulously laughing. "Be quiet now cara mia" he said grinning. "But I have another question." "Hmmm?" Why do women always want to talk after sex? Why on earth? he wondered…. "When you came, what did you say?" "I said 'Oh my God, my sweet fuck angel'" he said laughing. "Angel?" "You are innocent in your reactions and movements. And you haven't had a lot of sex." "Oh, I was bad. I'm sorry. I haven't had anyone since…" "I did not say that cara mia. I said your responses are not with, what's the God damn word in English, umm, they are honest responses. It's far more seductive than anything else." "Guile." "What?" "The word you want is guile. I'm sorry, I'll get better." "Stop apologizing, cara mia. Where did you get this ridiculous notion you were not good?" He turned and looked down at her. He looked into her eyes. He stroked her hair and kissed her softly. "You tasted like honey earlier. You were unbelievably sweet" he murmured against her lips. "You were wild like a cat, and so wonderfully tight. And I'm keeping you." "Keeping me?" "Yes, I called you my fuck angel. Mine to fuck. Mine." And he very poignantly said that directly to her looking into her eyes. She was getting used to his aggressive stances, his commanding gazes… She smiled at him and shook her head. She was unaware she was supposed to be intimidated by this male. She nuzzled in the crook of his arm under his chin. She thought of that dick. It was so perfect. God help her. It was uncut and thick. Good length. It was a bit longer than her ex-husband's 6 inches. And he smelled good and she felt incredible. She fell asleep right there. Alessandro stared down at his treasure in his arms. "Fuck, I am keeping her. And she doesn't get it." She liked me playing with her ass he thought… They needed to have a conversation about fantasies he decided. He stroked her breasts for awhile. The pink nipples were still hard and swollen. He would be biting them soon he thought as he slept holding his pussycat. The Seduction of Venice Ch. 03 Christine woke to the sounds of street life and the smell of coffee and breakfast wafting in from the breakfast area outside their door. Venice looked renewed after her downpour. Alessandro's room overlooked the Grand Canal. It was small, exclusive, and run by 2 Venetian brothers. The building was from the 15th century. She suddenly realized that she was also alone in the room. A vase of beautiful peonies and roses stood by the bed. There was a note written on the hotel stock folded in half beside it. It read: "Cara Mia, Come sei bella. I watched you sleep this morning and did not wish to disturb you. Call to reception and order your breakfast. I'll be back by 2 to take you to lunch. Please stay with me tonight. I got a call at 8:00 am this morning from my firm and am taking care of some problems. your Alessandro." Hers. That's incredibly sweet. What time is it? 12:42 PM. Whoops. "I'm skipping breakfast" she thought—"if we are just going out later at 2:00 PM." "I need to shower and... I have a toothbrush, but no clothes" she realized. She got up, dragged her damp clothes on, and went downstairs. She walked along to her hostel. Her room was empty. She unlocked her locker. She took her things into the bathroom. She stood under the water awhile. She lathered her body with body wash. Chris was in love with Venice, Alessandro, and also Henri Bendel's Wild Fig body wash, lotion, etc. Anything in that scent she loved. Her body ached everywhere. "Talk about feeling freshly fucked," she said aloud to herself half laughing. She cupped each breast one at a time and swirled over each with her body wash on a sea sponge. She dropped the sponge and ran her hand down her smooth skin to her pussy. She parted her lips and stroked the silky skin. She remembered his tongue there—she remembered the whole amazing night. ************************ She had sat there listening to his rich voice as he told her of his life the night before at dinner. They sat at the small round table close together on one side. She learned about his childhood, his baby sister Antonia, his older brother Alberto, and his parents Arrigo and Amelea. "All A's?" she had asked. He had grinned. "My mother thought it was poignant that both she and my father both had first names that started with the letter 'A' and middle names with the letter 'G'. So we all have the initials AGG." Too funny, she had thought. "What's your middle name?" she had asked. "Gabriele. Yours?" "Sarah with an 'h'. I was damn near being named 'Sarah Jane'." "That's horrible," he said laughing. They went through their first course easily laughing and talking. As it was cleared and they waited for the second, Alessandro reached for Chris's hand lightly resting on the tablecloth. He entwined their fingers. Chemistry. She felt electricity zip up her entire body. He felt it too. They had instantly connected and their bodies responded accordingly. The mental foreplay was as engaging as it was satisfying. But her body started to ache. He studied her face. "So how long do you have here for your holiday?" "I had 6 days before I go back for my son. This was my second day. And then I was thinking of taking my son with me and going on some day trips. I have to have him back in the evening to spend time with his papa." "4 days then to spend together." "Yes, four days." She smiled at him and sipped her wine. Did he say together? Alessandro brought her hand to his lips and kissed each finger. And each time a surge of pleasure raced through her body. Forget the wine, she was drunk from him. Heat rose up through her whole body. They heard rattling on the outside of the window. It managed to permeate their awareness and they both turned to look at the window. Rain was pelting down. "Wow, I wonder if the streets will flood tonight." "Yes probably. Acqua alta." "Acqua alta?" she asked. "High water." "I see...." She had forgotten what they were talking about. Because now he had finally reached for her. He was drawing her into his arms. His hand cupped her face and he kissed her. It was simple and sweet. He kissed her again. He slipped his tongue into her mouth. "Oh my God" she thought. Her body lit up. This was PLEASURE. And this was just a kiss. He slipped his left hand behind her neck and drew her closer. He cupped her left breast with his other hand. He withdrew his tongue and placed several firm kisses on her mouth. She looked into his smoldering eyes. She expected him to pull away. But instead he made a trail of kisses starting to the left of her mouth. he placed them all along her jaw line. He gripped her earlobe in his teeth and pulled. Then languidly pressed kisses down her neck... He nipped her with his teeth at her collarbone while he pinched her nipple. She was so wet she felt it between her thighs and start to soak her skirt. He dropped his left arm to her waist and wrapped his arm around her. He pulled, pinched, and tortured her left nipple. And then he lowered his head and took her right nipple in his mouth and sucked through her borrowed shirt. "Alessandro.... the waiter could..... Ohhhhh..... Ohhhhh..... Alessandro....." Forget it, she thought. And at that point she couldn't remember what she was forgetting. And suddenly, she was in the cold. The waiter had come in and Alessandro had immediately sat up inviting him to serve their main course. She looked down; there was a huge wet circle across her shirt. It was so obvious. She got very red. "Carissima," he started, "what do you have to be embarrassed about?" "The waiter knew. He saw my shirt, Alessandro." "Yes, I am sure he did. I am sure he admired your breasts when he first saw you. He did not need a wet shirt to make him look." he said laughing. "Still..." "They are discreet here; they all have their own women, wives, girlfriends too. Eat your veal parmesan. It's excellent." She just looked at him. Such confidence. Such logic she thought laughing to herself. She remembered getting caught with her ex-husband on the train from Vienna to Prague. He had been fingering her and they were making out. Suddenly the door was thrown open by the conductor to check their tickets. She was so embarrassed from that. And all through the rest of the ride, various train workers peaked into their room. But getting caught did make it tantalizing. There is something about illicit sex she thought. So that's why people want to have sex in public. They ate. Her food was really quite good, she agreed with him. The waiter brought out gelato because that's what she wanted. Menta it was called—basically mint chocolate chip. But gelato mint chocolate chip which was divine. He took the spoon and started feeding her. His left hand caressed her thigh under the table. He slid his hand up further under her skirt. He leaned in and whispered in her ear "Grazie." "For what?" she asked after swallowing her gelato. "For wearing a skirt." And then she felt her panties being pushed aside. He drew his face back and looked at her and grinned. "You are so wet" he said as he slipped his fingers in. He pushed one finger in and grabbed her lips and kissed her very willing open mouth. She surprised him a bit when she put her tongue in his mouth. He was used to her holding back so far. He took her tongue greedily. He pulled away and fed her the gelato again, keeping his finger in her pussy stroking. Then he put two fingers in. "Oh, ohhhhhhhh..... Alessandro...... Please..." "Please what? More gelato?" She never answered; he put the spoon in her mouth regardless. The flavor melted on her tongue, his fingers moved inside of her, and his mouth was trailing right between her breasts at the v of her shirt. She was on sensory overload. He pulled a bit back, but kept fingering her. She felt an orgasm building. He knew it was—he saw her eyes start to cloud over. He took a spoonful of gelato and spread it along her collar bone. He leaned in and lapped it up while thrusting hard into her with his fingers. He alternated the thrusting with stroking her clit. He spread more gelato on her, this time on the side of her neck. He felt her body start to buck against him. "Don't stop, Alessandro, please right there" she said as he stroked her inner walls. He reached into her shirt and pulled out her right breast. She was so into her building orgasm she made no protest. He spread gelato around her nipple and licked it slowly off the areola. She moaned and ground down on his hand. He took her breast in his mouth and sucked. As she came, he bit down. She cried out from the pleasure and pain. As she came down from her orgasmic peak, he drew her face in and kissed her hard and long. He fixed her bra and shirt. She panted and looked at him. "Oh my God, what have you done to me?" she asked him. "Are you finished with dinner, cara mia? Shall we go?" he asked nonchalantly like nothing had happened. She nodded yes. And Alessandro motioned to the waiter who was waiting in the doorway. Christine assumed he just arrived. But what Alessandro knew and did not volunteer was that the waiter had never left the doorway since he had served dessert.  They stepped out of the restaurant to see Venice in a downpour. Alessandro turned to her and asked "Do you want to try to wait it out?" "Oh no, we can go on, I'm ok with the rain." Of course where were they going is what she was wondering. They walked forever in the rain holding hands through the streets of Venice as she started to flood. They made it to Piazza di San Marco—the main plaza. The Basilica looked amazing in the storm. "Very cool." she breathed out. He nodded on top of her head, "Yes, very amazing to see her in this light." He stood behind her with his arms wrapped around her with her head tucked under his chin. They were seeking shelter under the awnings of one of the restaurants that lined the piazza. A string quartet was still playing to the patrons still there all seeking shelter. "I'm glad to spend this moment with you, cara mia." She turned in his arms and looked at him and said "me too." And he leaned down and kissed her. The rain lightened and they walked over to the pier near the Palazzo Ducale (Duke's Palace). They watched the lightning streak across the sky. "Will you stay with me tonight?" "Yes."  The rain fell harder. They ran through the streets together. His hotel was on the Grand Canal. It was on the top two floors of a 15th century building. The rooms were all suites and very unique. The floors tended to slant down from Venice sinking into the sea. They had taken the lift to the top floor. If you were on the floor beneath the top, you walked down a flight from inside the hotel. In the lift he had pressed her against the wall and letting his hands roam freely as he had kissed her. In his room, she walked in first admiring it. The room was done in pale gold and blue. Venetian glass adorned all the lighting. A 17th century chest flanked the 21st century entertainment console. The room was heavy and humid. There was no air conditioning even in this old palace. He apologized for the lack of cold air. "Oh no way, this is better. I wouldn't trade a room like this for the Marriott or Hilton in Venice." But she wasn't drying very fast in this heavy air and she was afraid to sit anywhere in the room with her wet clothes sticking to her. "When was the last time you had sex?" he asked. He knew the divorce was the summer before. But he would have bet a lot of money she had not gone wild when it was final. "February—with a friend of mine I have had since college. He was in town and I wanted it. It was just the one night. And before that was the summer before once with my now ex-husband because I had begged for it. It had been a year. And he got on me, got himself off, rolled off, and scrubbed himself in the shower. And I knew I didn't have a marriage anymore." "Mother of God. A year? Something was very wrong with your ex-husband." "I know. Sorry, didn't mean to drag in the bad things like you said early." "No, no cara mia. I just wanted to know how to go with you. You told me what I needed to know." he said as he stroked her arms. Up and down. The warmth started to spread to her whole body. He brought her into her arms and held her. "Are you on birth control?" "Yes, but I got pregnant on it the first time—I don't trust it." He walked over to his bag and pulled out a few condoms. He threw them on the nightstand. He took her back into his arms. "Christine, you submitted to me earlier, let me take control, you like that do you not? You are more aroused when the man takes control?" "Yes, I'm not really into bondage or sadomasochism or anything exactly. I just like the man to lead." "And I like it when a woman lets me lead, but responds." And with that he kissed her long and hard. He pulled back and peeled his shirt off. She drew in air. For 39, he had a fabulous chest with nice broad shoulders. The muscle had been there since youth and had toughened on his body with age. But it was hot—he still worked out and it showed. He smiled at the desire in her eyes. He was used to women's attention. They liked him—simply how it was. And he had been worried about this one. She did not play a game as he was used to. He didn't get coy advances, the flirting, the hair flipping.... He had been concerned at first his charm was failing him. Finally, she was going over his body with her eyes, assessing his assets. He really wanted her. He stepped out of his shoes and undid his belt buckle. Then he unzipped his pants. He watched her gaze fall as he pulled his pants and boxers off in one motion. "Like what you see?" She blushed like a virgin. "God help me," he thought, "she is like a virgin and I can't wait very long." She averted her eyes. She liked what she saw. "I'm acting like a child" she thought. She started to pull off her shirt. "No, I get to do that" he said. He put his hands on her hips and drew up her shirt as he caressed her body. He pulled the shirt up and over her head. He pulled her skirt down and she stepped out of her shoes. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra. He stopped to admire her breasts. He knew he was torturing her—making them take their clothes off in front of each other. Both lamps were still on. Her skin was pink—whether from embarrassment or from his touch he wasn't sure. Probably both. He pulled her panties down and she stepped out of them. He reached between her legs and slid his finger in. He pulled out his finger and put it in his mouth. He tasted her. "You taste so good, cara mia." He stood and kissed her. He told her to sit on the edge of the bed. "Now, lay back exactly where you are." Her feet were planted on the floor with the bed supporting her upper body. He pulled her down a bit bringing her bottom to the edge of the bed. He kneeled between her legs and pulled them apart. Her slick pussy opened before him and he enjoyed the sight. She was bare aside from the landing strip right above. She was trembling. She had no idea why. He leaned down and dipped his tongue in. He licked from the vaginal opening to the clitoris. He circled the clitoris and then dragged his tongue down to her opening again. She clenched her hand in his hair. She tasted so sweet. And then he worked her clit over. He stroked her with his tongue over and over until she came. Hard. He stood up and pulled her up the bed. He climbed in beside her and kissed her. She tasted herself on his mouth and his tongue. He caressed her breasts. He was so hard. He couldn't wait. She had parted her thighs and wrapped her legs loosely around him. He accepted her invitation. He ripped open a condom and rolled it down. She reached down and helped guide his dick in. He looked down to see pain go across her face. She was quite tight. "Cara mia? I thought you had a child." "I did" she gasped out, "but it was a c-section. See the scar?" And he did now, looking down, he saw the very thin line, nearly faded right above her mons. "It's ok, keep going." He did. He went all the way in. She felt great to him. And he did not have that much control left. He'd been playing with her for hours. He took her hand and held it above her head. He drove in and out frantically. He was going to cum. He felt like a teenager losing control too fast. To her it felt so good to have him fill her, to be possessed by him. She got over the pain. She ignored it. "There was nothing like a dick in your pussy. Nothing like a man fucking you whether it was good or bad." It left her satiated and feeling alive and human. He pumped in and out harder and harder. Then she brought her legs up higher on his body and clenched her pussy around his dick. It was over for him. As he came he leaned in and kissed her deeply. He braced himself above her and looked down at her. She smiled up at him. He was disappointed with himself for going so fast. And hell, it had hurt for her. "When your body gets used to sex more frequently," he started. "I know it won't hurt every time a man penetrates me. I have always been tight; my ex-husband hardly broke me in so to speak. I know....." She didn't seem too pissed off he had fucked her hard and fast and without much regard to her comfort. To the contrary, she was stroking his skin. He fell to the side and pulled her to him. They kissed until they fell asleep. The Seduction of Venice Ch. 04 For my friend who suggested the gondola experience in the first place. :) As always, I would really appreciate feedback. Thanks! * Chris came stroking her clit in the shower and sagged against the tile wall. She stepped out of the shower and quickly dressed. She walked back into her small room that she slept in once. She repacked her things setting the short she borrowed on her roommate's bed with a few euro. She felt terrible she did not have time to properly clean it first. On her way back to Alessandro's hotel she stopped in an internet café and called her ex-husband to check on her son. She talked to him and her heart warmed hearing his baby voice. By the time she made it to Alessandro's room, she was 24 minutes late. Unfortunately, Alessandro had finished at 1, so by 1:30 he was waiting for her in his room, pacing. She knocked on the door. He opened it. He smiled when he saw her. "I am so sorry I'm late." "Women are always allowed time. Men have to be punctual," he teased her. "All the same I apologise." "It's alright, just happy you came back." "I didn't wake up 'til almost 1 PM." "It's ok cara mia." She sat her bag down. He looked over her clothes and frowned. She saw it. "I travel very lightly. I was unaware I would be seducing an Italian. I was more worried about practical clothing to wear with my son," she offered as an explanation for her clothing. "But for tonight we need to find something more appropriate..." he said smiling. "Come here, Chris" he said softly as he held his arms out to her. She ran right into them and raised her face for her kiss. He happily obliged. It was a sweet and tender kiss. He ran his hands up and down her arms. He broke away. "If we do not go now, we will not have time to find you a dress." "A dress?" "Yes, love, we need to buy you a dress." She raised an eyebrow at him. "You did say before you were staying at the hostel to save more money for shopping. So I assume you will enjoy shopping..." "Ok, true. Let's go shopping." ***** The draw of Venice, the intrinsic essence that captures one's soul, is the way the light falls and dances around Venice. It reflects off the waters surrounding her and is in constant motion. The afternoons weigh heavy with humidity in August. Chris's clothes were damp and clung to her body. She had to peel them off as she stood in the dressing room in Prada. She had found shoes at Furla and Gucci. She had liked a small green purse at Versace, but could not find clothes. She was never much into their clothes. Chris stepped into layers of gauze. Each layer was another shade—silver, pewter, charcoal. The dress had a long slit up one side of the skirt and the deep v of the neckline was held up by ribbon that tied behind Chris's neck. The Prada dress was unique and shimmered. It would dazzle in Venice as its look changed too with each step Chris took. She picked out other clothes. But this dress held her imagination and affection. She would wear it tonight. The afternoon had been so sweet—just wandering Venice in her smoldering heat holding his hand. It had been perfect just because she had been near him. In fact for both of them, the afternoon was sheer pleasure and comforting. After all, both in silence and conversation, they enjoyed each other. As the sun was setting, they made it back to Alessandro's hotel room. All the ribbon tied bags were heaped on the bed. Chris started opening them and sorting them. "Christine?" "Yes?" she called over her shoulder. She started to turn around, but stepped back into his very solid frame. He wrapped his arms around her and started kissing her neck. In between kisses he said, "Come take a shower with me, baby." "Ok." she breathed. The bathroom was average size for American standards. The shower was really only built for one person. They pressed their bodies tightly together to fit in which suited both very well. They washed each other. It was more sweet than erotic. Alessandro cupped Christine's full breasts as he leaned in and kissed her under the pulsing jets of water. Her hand was at the nape of his neck fingering his hair. He slipped his arm down her back, caressing her, and then squeezed her bottom. He cupped her ass and pressed his finger in. She gasped and looked at him. "Do you like me to touch you here?" "Yes, I like it." He pressed his finger in further and her sphincter spasmed a second. Then it relaxed. "Do you ever play with yourself here?" Alessandro murmured into her ear. "Yes" she drew out at last. He pulled his finger out and pressed it in again. "Is that good for you, sweetheart?" "Mmmmmm, yes, yes, Alessandro....." she moaned. She reveled in the sensation. He put in a second finger and began using both fingers as pistons. "Oooooooohhhhhh, that feels good," she cried out as she sagged against him. Alessandro drew her mouth to his and engaged her tongue. With his other hand he reached between them and slipped his fingers into her pussy. She was slick with arousal and he started stroking her clit. She broke their kiss moaning and laid her head against his chest. She felt his fingers exploring her ass, stroking in and out. She felt his very skilled fingers stroke her clit. Her body was melded against him under the rushing water. She was wrapped up in his scent. His cock was hard pressing firmly into her abdomen. Alessandro looked down at the treasure he was holding and strumming. He felt her thighs shake from the pleasure. Her breathing was rapid. He knew she would cum soon. He felt ready to cum too—just from the sensation of being a voyeur and watching Christine revel in the sensations he gave her. He rapidly stroked her clit and roughly finger fucked her ass. She went over the edge and came. She felt the orgasm center on her clit and her sphincter. It ran down her thighs and up her spine. Her nipples tingled and she felt lightheaded as a single nerve of pleasure sung in her forehead. She felt her whole body go slack. Alessandro took her weight and kept her from sliding down while she regained her awareness. He turned the water down, but not off. He soaped up her breasts. He whispered in her ear, "Kneel." She simply complied and looked up at him with full blown desire. She reached out for his dick and licked around the head while stroking the shaft. She slowly took in its entire length inch by inch into her mouth. He withdrew and plunged back into her mouth. She cupped his balls and sucked on his dick. He held her head and pounded in and out. She did her best not to gag. He stood there lost in his own world gripping her hair and using her sweet warm mouth. He finally released her head breathing heavily. She looked up wonderingly that he had stopped, when he placed his dick between her breasts. "Your breasts are so beautiful. I am going to fuck them," he said smiling down at her. He squeezed her 36D breasts around his dick with his hands and began pushing in and out. He moaned. As she kneeled there, she felt completely aroused again that he was using her body like this. She made no word of protest. It completely turned her on. And it hurt. He was squeezing so hard, she was sure she would be bruised afterwards. She felt the veins on his dick as they stroked up and down between her breasts. She looked down and watched the head come between her breasts and down again. He was breathing heavily. "Do you like this?" he grunted. "Yes..." she whispered. "Yes? Louder, Carissima. Do you like what I'm doing to you?" "Yes, Alessandro. I like it. Please keep fucking me," she replied audibly. "My sweet fuck angel, you are mine. Do you understand? Mine." "Yours, yes, yours. Cum for me Alessandro." He did. He came in thick spurts all over Christine's breasts and face. She took her fingers and dipped them into his semen. She sucked her fingers clean. He watched her in his post-orgasmic state incredibly aroused and impressed. He drew her up to him and kissed her within an inch of her life. It was deep, passionate, and forceful. And above all, possessive. ***** She finished her hair and make-up. She was wearing her panties, her new Gucci stilettos and one of Alessandro's dress shirts unbuttoned. She walked out into the room. He was standing by the bed looking like a god. His dark suit was cut perfectly for him. He looked powerful and dangerous. She was wet again. She'd been in nearly a constant state of arousal since she'd met him. She walked over to the other side of the bed. She pulled off his shirt. He enjoyed that sight—Christine topless with her pink nipples hardened. The stilettos didn't hurt either. He made a mental note to himself, "fuck her in just those stilettos". Maybe tonight he thought. And he smiled as he grabbed condoms and put them in his jacket. She had stepped into her dress. He walked behind her and zipped the dress. He took the ribbons she offered him and tied them behind her neck. She looked beautiful. And he told her so. ***** Christine and Alessandro walked along the Grand Canal with Christine catching a lot of appreciative glances in her diaphanous dress. They walked back to the Piazza di San Marco and went up to a nondescript door under an archway lining the piazza. Alessandro gave his name to the maître d'. They were escorted to a beautiful table in a chandelier lit room. There were other couples and even tables of 4 and 6. "No private entertainment tonight?" she teased Alessandro. He whispered in her ear, "maybe not here." After dinner Alessandro walked her down to the pier. He stopped occasionally and just drew her to him and kissed her. At the pier, she admired the Doge's Palace lit at night. She studied it while Alessandro went over to a gondolier and negotiated for a trip in a gondola. Christine had never been and as touristy as it was—it seemed magical to her. Alessandro smiled at the gondolier. The usual rates at night were well over a $100 USD for a decent length trip. But this guy had just gotten three times as much to take them to a secluded area where no other gondolas travel. That and to look the other away. Alessandro slipped behind his treasure and wrapped his arms around her. "Would you like to go on a trip in a gondola with me?" She looked up at him and smiled. "Of course I would." Christine sat leaning back against Alessandro as their gondola glided across the water. He was stroking her bare thigh—the slit up the skirt was very useful he thought. She felt the warmth of his body and softness of his suit on her bare back. Venice glittered in front of her. She lost herself in the moment. Alessandro started kissing Christine on the side of her neck. "Alessandro, the gondolier can see..." "Mario." "What?" "His name is Mario, and I'm sure he's seen a lot more." "Alessandro." "Christine." He trailed his tongue up to her ear and sucked her ear lobe. Then he turned her head and kissed her. She opened her mouth for him as he turned her body in his arms. Now she sat sideways in his lap. She broke away flushing red looking at the gondolier. He was looking out into the water beyond them. She felt the bow behind her neck that was holding her dress up being pulled on. It came undone. "Alessandro!" she furiously whispered. "Yes?" he asked slowly, calmly, and in a regular volume. "Tie my dress back" she whispered emphatically again. "No." "No?" "No, I will not now. I will tie it later for you, cara mia." She turned and looked at him amazed. He pulled part of the dress down. "You wouldn't." "I'm going to." He pulled Christine to him and kissed her again. He slipped his tongue in and she forgot where they were. He slipped his free hand under the material of her dress and cupped her breast. The material fell further down exposing the other breast to the night air. She fought with him a bit in his arms but just gave in after a bit. The gondolier, Mario, watched and enjoyed the sight. Her skin was like fine blue veined Italian marble in the softly reflected lights. The sight of her breasts had made him hard. He thought of his girlfriend, Patricia. Maybe he could call her out of her uncle's restaurant tonight just for an hour or so. It's all he needed. And he would need he thought if he was going to get to see what this man had every intention of getting from this woman. Alessandro kept kissing Christine and caressing her breasts. He ran his hand up her exposed leg and thigh through the slit of her dress. He slipped his hand underneath the dress. Panties. "You had to wear them." "What?" Christine asked in a daze. He pulled the panties to the side and slipped his finger in. She was soaking wet for him. He started stroking her clit. She moaned. "I cannot believe you're doing this to me in public." "Where's the public, cara mia?" "The gondolier..." "Mario." "Mario is watching us" she stated exasperated with Alessandro as his finger stroked her clit. Alessandro smiled at her and then looked up at Mario. He said something to him and Mario replied. "See, I asked him. He says I'm allowed to do what I want with my beautiful woman. He, the public, does not mind." "Alessandro!" she protested. He kissed away her protests. He'd actually asked Mario if he enjoyed the view, and he'd said he liked her breasts a lot. Alessandro replied "wait 'til you see the rest of her." Alessandro's lips trailed down her throat and onto her breasts. He leaned over and took a nipple into his mouth. Christine moaned and gripped his arm. He continued to stroke the inside of her pussy. He needed to get rid of those damn panties. He pulled his hand free and started yanking the material down her legs. She was so aroused, she made no protest. He got them to her ankles and then over the stilettos. He threw them further down the gondola. Mario followed their path with his eyes. Christine unbuttoned Alessandro's shirt and kissed him down his chest as she went. "Keep going" he breathed. She climbed down from his lap and kneeled on the floor of the gondola. She unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. She pushed his boxers down and brought out his cock already hard from anticipation. She licked the precum from the head. She licked all the way around and then began sucking. Mario was rather stunned. He knew the man wanted isolated areas to have sex with her, but he couldn't believe the view he had. A woman in a very nice dress that was down to her waist was kneeling in his gondola and sucking the man. And she'd lost her panties... "Stop." She didn't hear him. She kept going. "Christine, stop, cara mia. I want to be inside you." She sat back and breathing heavily looked at him. He opened a condom and rolled down his dick. She climbed up into his lap facing him. Her legs wrapped around his body and she lowered her aching body onto him. Her pussy was warm, slick, and tight. It sucked him in greedily. Christine drew her breath in sharply as she felt him enter. She looked into Alessandro's face. His eyes burned her with his desire. She leaned down and kissed him. He grasped the back of her head and clutched her to him. He kissed her as she began moving up and down. It was sheer torture. They built up their rhythm. Mario called out to Alessandro. They were down at one end and they were going to tip his boat. The sentences finally penetrated his brain. He stopped Christine and she climbed off of him. "If you are on the floor..." Mario said to Alessandro. Alessandro nodded. He had Christine kneel again on the floor and brace her upper body on the seat of the chair. Alessandro pulled her dress up exposing her swollen and wet pussy. Mario had quite the view. Christine's breasts were hanging free, her hair was in disarray, and her breathing was ragged. And here her legs were spread wide as she kneeled in his gondola. Alessandro kneeled behind her and pushed into her. He placed one hand on the floor to hold his weight and with the other he cupped her breast. He began to pound Christine. She grunted. He squeezed her breast almost mercilessly as he thrust in and out. "Harder, Alessandro" she called out. "Yes, baby, I'll give you more." He let go of her breast and leaned back. He gripped her hips and relentlessly drew her against his body over and over again. He felt her pussy clench his dick and then heard her scream out his name. He let himself go. ***** She sat in Alessandro's lap—her face was crimson. She could not believe what she had done in front of the gondolier. Alessandro was stroking her hair and comforting her. All she could focus on was the bulge in the gondolier's pants. The gondolier looked over her body and she felt terrible and secretly turned on. Mario smiled at the woman's obvious discomfort. He wasn't very impressed with her modesty on display now. As they approached the pier, he spoke fast to Alessandro. Alessandro nodded at him. He helped Christine off the gondola and handed Mario several folded bills. As they left, Alessandro watched Mario pocket Christine's panties. Mario knew exactly what he was going to jerk off with in the near future. **** As always, I would really appreciate feedback, thanks!