Stranger (8 page)

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Authors: N.M. Catalano

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BOOK: Stranger
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Aubriana’s is a lovely little fine dining restaurant while still having a casual feel with exposed brick and is decorated in deep rich colors.  When we enter there is a woman’s voice filling the air singing with so much emotion and lust as if she’s seducing her lover with her words.  The dining room is fairly full for the middle of the week and I glance around to see if there is anyone that I recognize.  Not seeing anyone I know I let out a small breath of relief.

We are led to an intimate table in the corner with Marco’s hand possessively on my lower back sending electric tremors through me.  It makes me feel like he’s claiming me, like I belong to him.  That is what I miss from a relationship, belonging to the man I love.  He holds my chair as I sit down then seats himself next to me.  His knee rests against mine under the table as his hand gently takes mine in his on top.

I can tell the waitress has fallen under Marco’s spell because she’s blushing and fidgeting standing at the side of our table.  He appears not to notice, politely giving her his full attention. Typically someone with his obvious status would be pretentious and cocky.  Not him. This man is definitely not a dick. Marco orders the brown sugar cured Scottish Salmon skillet roasted with baby spinach, toasted country ham and black eyed peas vinaigrette.  I get the slow roasted organic Springer Mountain Chicken with creamy mashed potatoes, English peas, roasted pearl onions and sherried chicken jus lie.  I decline the wine because I don’t want to have a headache tomorrow but I really think it’s because I want to be able to process every little detail of tonight not wanting to forget a thing. We eat from each other’s plates and feed the other tastes from our forks when something is just too good saying things like, ‘You’ve got to try this.’ During our meal Marco always keeps contact with my body either with his leg against mine, his hand holding mine, or wiping the corner of my mouth. Our conversation is light and flows naturally like we are long time lovers knowing all of our intimate secrets, all the little things that make us happy and those things which get on each other’s nerves.

When the lovestruck waitress clears our plates we sit back in our chairs relaxed, gazing at each other.  Marco’s arm is across the back of my chair and he’s lightly stroking me with his fingertips as the underlying lust that has been simmering between us all evening begins to heat up.   I lean in closer to him placing my elbow on the table and rest my chin in my palm looking into his eyes.

“So, Greek, huh?”

He laughs lightly and nods his head.

“Yes, Greek and Italian.  My father is Greek and my mother Italian.  They owned a Greek diner in upstate New York while I was growing up.  That was my first job, of course, and I hated it.  They worked all the time and it killed me to see how much it took from them.  After I graduated high school I went to college in the city at NYU and studied business.  I loved Washington Square Park.  All the talented people there on the weekends was amazing.”

I laugh.  “I know.  I went to FIT, (Fashion Institute of Technology), and lived on West 4
th
Street next to the Pink Pussycat Boutique.  I used to hang out there all the time.”

“You’re kidding me?”

“Totally serious.”

“And was it the park or that adult store you hung out at all the time, Elizabeth?”  His tone has changed to a sultry, dark, challenging lick across my skin

“The park,” my body reacts to his voice more than his words.

“Did you shop there?” 

“No, I was too young.”

“Would you now?”  His eyes take on a hint of something, what, I don’t know, a challenge maybe.

I think about the question just a moment visualizing myself blindfolded with Marco using toys on me.

“Yes.”

A seductive smile lifts his lips.  And he hesitates as if he’s thinking about my answer.

“And are you a fashion designer?”  His demeanor shifts very slightly, hardly noticeable but I feel it more than I see it.

I laugh.  “No.  I worked for an accessories designer when I lived in the city. Back then I thought I wanted to be in that world.  But now I think it’s haughty and shallow.”

“Yeah, I agree with you.  Don’t hate me for what I’m about to tell you but while I was at NYU someone approached me in Washington Square Park and asked me if I wanted to do some modeling so I took him up on it.  I was a kid and thought, ‘Partying, beautiful women, it’s a man’s dream’.  It paid ok but it didn’t satisfy me.  I finished school then moved to Florida and got into what I’m doing now. I...........”

I raise my finger to his lips, shushing him.

“Don’t.  Let’s just be the two people that we are in this moment.”  I move in closer, our faces just inches from the other.

He looks searchingly into my eyes and I know he’s trying to figure out what I mean by that.

“I think that
you
are the woman of mystery, Ms..............?”

I can’t help but smile at his insinuation.

“DiStefano.  My name is Elizabeth DiStefano.”

A big grin curves his luscious lips.

“My Italian beauty.”  His mouth comes down on mine consuming it as his hand wraps around the back of my neck holding me close.  We kiss as if we were alone, not caring that we’re in a room full of people because right now it’s just us.

There is a shuffling noise that pulls us out of our intimate bubble and we look up to find the waitress standing a foot or so from the table blushing a deep scarlet unable to look us in the face and Marco begins to chuckle. I squeeze his thigh under the table to scold him.

“Um, would you care for dessert, sir?”  He looks at me with one brow up questioningly.

“I have cookies and cream ice cream at home.”  I smile suggestively at him.

His eyes deepen at the suggestion as a grin lifts his lips and he says, “My favorite.  Just the check please.”

It just got really hot in here.

The walk back to my apartment is perfect, the stars fill the clear night sky and I can hear owls hooting in the distance as horse drawn black and white carriages stroll past giving a hint of slower times.  We hold each other close, his arm tight around my shoulder, mine around his waist as he’s telling me how much he likes the charm of Wilmington.  He says he was surprised to find the growth of the area and how it still is able to retain its warmth.  I tell him the little bit that I know about the area and what it is that I love here.  I love that it has so much to offer in an intimate way, I love that people still talk to each other and strangers nod and smile their hellos in passing, I love that I have watched children grow up and they still remember me telling me about the time they remember the most.

When we arrive at my door the street is quiet as he takes the keys from me and he unlocks the door, stepping aside for me to enter first, a gentleman is always a gentleman no matter how dirty they are in private.  The door closes behind us in the darkness and solitude of the room and he immediately pulls me into his arms, devouring me in his kiss with his hands all over my body.

“This is where I’ve wanted you all night, Elizabeth,” he whispers against my neck.

“It’s all I’ve thought about all week, Marco,” my words come out as a pant.

“Common.  Let’s go have some ice cream,” with a wicked look in his eyes he takes my hand and leads me to the kitchen with the only lights illuminating our way coming in through the windows. 

“You have a beautiful place, Elizabeth.  It feels very comforting.”  Stopping, he leans me against the end of the breakfast bar.

“Thank you.  I love it,” I reply high with arousal, I’m surprised that I can even speak coherent words.

“It shows.” His eyes narrow at me.  Our mouths are having one conversation while our bodies are having another.  “Don’t move, baby.”  He says low and firm, desire obvious on his face. 

After turning on only the nightlight above the stove he goes to the freezer, pulls out the container then looks through the drawers to find a spoon and takes it out.  He comes and stands in front of me, removes the lid and spoons out some of the sweet cream then puts the spoon to his mouth and slowly wraps his tongue under it with his upper lip on top.  He’s staring into my eyes as I watch his mouth intently imagining it on my body. 

“Mmmm, delicious.  Would you like some?”  His voice is so sultry it strokes my skin.

My eyes still on his mouth I can barely answer, “Yes, please.”

Marco slowly touches my lips with the spoon and I have to tongue a taste.  He pulls the spoon from my mouth and brings his mouth to mine, sucking the cream from my tongue.

“Mmmm,” he moans in my mouth.  “But I think it can taste even better.”  He puts the spoon in the container and sets it on a chair. Leaning in he lays both hands on the counter at my sides bringing his mouth close to my ear and whispers, “I’m going to eat the ice cream off of you, Elizabeth.”  My jaw drops.  And he smiles seductively satisfied with my reaction. 

He slides one hand up my arm to my ponytail and holds it lightly as his mouth grazes my ear.  “You have beautiful hair, baby.”  Wrapping my hair around his fist he pulls my head back slightly giving him access to my neck.  He nibbles and sucks me there inhaling deeply.  “I love how you smell.  I lied back in bed after you left the other day so I could smell you again remembering every delicious part of you.”

“And what did you think of?”  I pant.

“What I wanted to do to you next time.  Now, I need you naked.”  And his hands undo my belt then reach down and grab the hem of my dress pulling it off.  He devours my body with his eyes.  Kissing me passionately, he removes my bra, cups my breasts and thumbs my hard nipples.  His mouth lowers to each nipple sucking and flicking the tips with his tongue.  His hands slide down the sides of my body as he crouches in front of me and begins to unzip my boots, taking each one off, kissing and caressing my legs and slides my panties down. I grab handfuls of his hair and push his face into me.  All of my clothes and shoes are in a pile to the side.  He has his hands on my hips and nips my pubic bone hooking his tongue to my clit sending shock waves through me.  I push myself into his mouth holding on to his ‘just fucked’ looking hair and tug.  He stands holding the backs of my thighs and lifts me on to him, wrapping my legs around his waist as my arms go around his neck.  He sets me on the counter as I’m grinding into him trying to satisfy the ache he’s made in me.  I am just about to become desert.

He guides me down onto the stone surface. “Lie back, Baby, I want to enjoy you,” he commands sealing his words with a deep kiss.

Taking the ice cream container in one hand he begins to tantalize one breast, sucking, biting and licking the tip.  The shock of cold ice cream suddenly on my nipple sends waves of heat to my sex followed by his hot mouth immediately sucking it off.  I push it hard into his mouth while my ass writhes into the hard surface beneath me.  He does the same to the other.  The coldness feels like fire.  He continues, filling my belly button with it then licks it off burying his tongue in the crevice and I feel it straight to my core.  I will never look at ice cream the same way again.

“Oh, God, Marco....”

Grabbing my hips, he pulls me down so my ass is at the edge of the counter and guides my legs around his neck.  I want to shove his face in there and ride his mouth hard and fast.  He begins to lap up my juices, taking my clit between his lips and sucks it sliding one finger slowly inside of me as he does. 

“God, Elizabeth, you’re so wet.  I love how you want me.”  His finger is thrusting and twisting in and out of me.  I want more, I want him inside me filling me up.   I clasp down on it clenching it in my inner walls.  His tongue flicks my clit before his lips grab it and suck it in.  He goes back and forth between flicking and sucking.  He’s killing me, keeping me right there and he knows it.  He pulls his mouth off, his finger still inside of me as it thrusts and turns.  Then coldness hits my clit making my back jump off the counter.

“Aaahhhhhhhh!”

Two fingers are thrusting inside me now, twisting, curving and rubbing the front of me as his mouth comes down and takes hold of my clit covered in ice cream between his teeth.  He swallows the cream taking my button of electricity between his hot lips and sucks. I immediately cum, spasming, writhing, holding him tight between my thighs, as I’m pulling his hair and screaming his name.  Fucking me with his fingers as his lips hold my clit, he laps up my juices as I come down.

“Wow, that was....”

“We’re not finished yet, baby,” he says, his voice low and rough and he pulls me to him wrapping my legs and arms around him.  “I’ve got to be inside of you.”

He lifts me to him with hunger in his kiss and carries me to my room.

My bedroom is like a place where a sheik would keep his harem, done in deep reds and golds with a black wrought iron headboard with only a small lamp glowing on the nightstand.  I want him to use me like a harem girl and do very naughty things to me.  He places me gently on the bed and begins to undress as I enjoy the presents he unwraps with each piece of his clothing.

He’s looking down at me and I feel the need I see in his eyes.  “You are so sexy, Elizabeth.”

“You make me feel that way, Marco.”

“Good, I want you to know what you do to me.”

His shirt is off and he’s unbuttoning his pants, letting them fall and I look hungrily at his erection straining against his black boxers.  I take in all of him with my eyes burning him to my memory, tucking it away in my secret place so I can take it out when I want to feel him close.  Pushing his boxers to the floor he bends to take something out of his pants.  He rips open the condom packet and slides it over his huge erection.  Climbing up the bed to me I wrap myself around him once again.  We kiss and stroke each other fiercely as if we’re starved, devouring each other with our kisses, licks, sucks and caresses, feverishly rolling all over the bed. He pulls me so I’m on top of him.

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