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Authors: Andres Mann

Tags: #incest, #obsession, #strong american blonde heroine, #strong romantic elements, #military battles, #villain protagonist, #strong and moral men, #strong adult content

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BOOK: Tess Awakening
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The doctor seemed pleased. “Every case is
different, Mr. Vickers and we should be thankful that your wife
regained consciousness. Frankly, we were ready to transfer her to a
nursing home. She must be a strong woman to have overcome the
trauma. All she needs now is some therapy to help her regain her
faculties. It will not take long. I will make the arrangements to
transfer her to the rehab facility.

Jake was elated until he had a horrible
thought: How was he going to tell Tess that she lost the baby and
that little Morgan had been abducted?

He immediately called her father and told him
the news. General Turner was relieved until Jake explained his
predicament. “I will be right over, Jake.”

The two men hugged each other, thankful that
the nightmare of Tess’s coma had come to pass. Now they had to
discuss how to tell Tess that both of her children were gone. They
decided to wait until they could no longer avoid breaking the news
to her.

 

Chapter 49

Chiavari

Carmen and Nicola needed some rest and
recreation, and at Nicola’s suggestion, they decided to spend a few
days in Italy. He had left a few days earlier; she had to take care
of a few things before departing. The plan was to connect when
Carmen arrived in Italy.

Landing at Milan’s Malpensa airport, Carmen
was surprised by the size of the facility and the lack of amenities
that other major airports had, such as motorized walkways to help
people walk to the main terminal. The place was not a model of
organization, and hardly anyone spoke a word of English. She
finally managed to rent a small Fiat 500. It was her first car
without an automatic transmission for quite some time, but she got
used to it quickly.

She headed south on the Autostrada toward
Genoa. Her ultimate destination was a little city on the Italian
Riviera called Chiavari, where she would rendezvous with
Nicola.

Carmen thought that renting a small car would
be appropriate for the local conditions. She was wrong. Once on the
road, her little 500 repeatedly shook when passed by nice BMWs,
Audis, Alfa Romeos, Porches and even a few exotics. ‘I thought that
the economy was bad in this country, but you wouldn’t know it by
the cars. It seems that North Italians are doing quite well, thank
you.’

The travel guides did not mention that as you
approach Genoa, the road turns into hairpin curves through the
mountains. She stopped at a rest area, grabbed a ham and cheese
panino
, and examined the map. A closer look revealed that
the Italian Riviera was sandwiched by mountains on the north side
and the Mediterranean on the south. The Autostrada was built
relatively high on the hills, with many bridges crossing deep
gorges. Many of the towns could be reached only by finding your way
down the hills to the shore. Without good reflexes, the journey
could be challenging.

She got back in the car and suffered
additional humiliation meted by more powerful cars zooming past
her. Eventually, she reached her destination. At least the
highway’s toll gates were surprisingly modern and accepted cash as
well as credit cards.

She drove into Chiavari and congratulated
herself on having purchased a GPS navigator before driving the car.
It would have been hard to find her way through the ancient winding
streets. She had to drive up a hill to find Nicola’s family house.
The place was perched on a cliff, and she had to park the car in
the only available space below the house. She grabbed her small
suitcase and walked up the stairs clinging to the side of the hill
until she made it to the house perched above. Nicola welcomed her
with a warm kiss. After cleaning up, she dined on the terrace with
Nicola and his parents. The place overlooked a splendid panorama of
the town below with a view of the coastline.

Carmen now understood why Nicola’s complexion
was a gorgeous slightly dark shade, like a great tan. His mother
was from Eritrea, a former Italian colony in East Africa. She was
also beautiful, even at her age. Nicola explained that such mixed
marriages were common in Italy, and hardly anybody blinked. After
World War II, Eritrea reverted to the rule of locals, but many
Italians stayed for a while and married Eritrean women.

Carmen kept watching the panorama below. “I
had no idea that such a beautiful place existed. It is really
gorgeous.”

Nicola provided some insight about the town.
“Chiavari is a great place to live. It is a summer resort, but not
a large one. It is populated by real people who have lived here for
centuries. They are very proud of their town and take great care of
it. The Center is graced by vaulted porticos around the buildings.
The founding fathers designed a livable city that protected the
locals from the elements at all times of the year. Tomorrow we will
go down and I will give you a tour.”

In the morning, the couple dropped their bags
at Nicola’s apartment at the beach and walked all over town. They
enjoyed the sophisticated shops, the outdoor market in the square
across from the old castle now used as City Hall. They observed
well-dressed locals discriminately selecting delicacies for their
evening meal. They stopped at a bakery and bought some focaccia, a
delicious flatbread that is a staple of the region.

Carmen wanted to explore more the town. One
of the things that amazed her was that unlike most of Italy, there
was a virtual absence of graffiti on the walls. She walked the
streets and boulevards lined with gorgeous mansions. Nicola
explained that at the turn of the last century, locals who had made
their fortune in America returned to their hometown and built
several great houses. The locals called the buildings
Palazzi
Americani
. Some were later turned into upscale apartments, but
quite a few remained as single family manors owned by the wealthy.
This explained the fancy cars and the expensive shops under the
porticoes.

She returned to the apartment and showered.
Nicola took her out to dinner. The local fare included a lot of
seafood, but she was surprised that most restaurants also offered a
considerable selection of thin pizzas that seemed to be a favorite
of the local diners.

Nicola ordered dinner for both of them,
focusing on local specialties. They had raw octopus ceviche, fresh
from the sea, prepared with just a little olive oil and a spray of
lemon juice. The typical Ligurian dish was Trenette al Pesto, a
classic Genoese dish combining basil pesto with the region’s
version of fettuccine, as well as string beans and potatoes. They
then had a broiled seafood plate plus Tiramisu for dessert.

Even though she already knew the answer,
Carmen asked, “Do you always eat like this in Italy?”

Nicola stated a well-known fact about the
Italians. “We like several courses called Piatti — primo, secondo
and so on. We like variety and we enjoy our food, in fact, eating
well here is like a religion. It’s a hallowed practice, like going
to Church.”

“Well, it seems to work. People look
happy.”

“Happiness is relative. The Italians have
always been masters at accommodation. They have been oppressed by
foreign powers for so long, that they learned to adapt no matter
what the situation. Right now, they are not at all happy with the
European Union imposing all kinds of standards on just about
anything. The general complaint here is that you have to work four
months of the year just to pay off the thieving government. They
may not be far off from the truth. What they really hate now is
that since Italy became part of the EU, it is increasingly
difficult to escape taxes and the bureaucracy. So, we feel
oppressed, but still manage to get by, because that is what we have
always done.”

There was another fact about the region. The
town was made for walking and parking was hard to come by. As a
result, few people carried extra pounds; in fact just about every
one of the locals seemed to be in exceptionally fine physical
shape. The women were small, thin and gorgeous. The real surprise
was the men. Quite a few of them were over six feet, masculine and
handsome. Many had blonde hair, blue or green eyes; they were also
well dressed and classy. Carmen saw the possibilities. She realized
that a promising hunting ground was laid at her feet.

The thought of hunky Italian men titillated
Carmen. They finally retired to the apartment and she wanted to
make love; actually she really wanted to have sex. This time, she
wanted to do it her way, quickly, without the slow buildup that
Nicola liked.

He came into the bedroom with two glasses of
Prosecco wine. Carmen was already in bed, lying on her side,
looking very much like Goya’s Maya Desnuda in the famous
painting.

Nicola sat next to her and put a glass
against her mouth. She took a sip and moved over, making room for
him. He smiled, put the glasses down and gently kissed her. Carmen
put her hands behind his neck and insisted he kiss her breasts.
This always worked with the guys, the great thing being that it
would always generate immediate lustful interest and a beautiful
erection. It was the same in this case, but Nicola still wanted to
play first.

Carmen was not in a mood for playing. She
yanked him down on the bed and with a little effort, put him on his
back. She knew that he was strong and could easily overpower her,
so she used the guerrilla tactic of surprise, kissing him to
distract him and immediately impaling herself on his manhood. He
gasped, surprised, but she did not give him time to react. She
started to move, grinding herself against him, faster and faster,
forcing Nicola to stand still until she exploded into an orgasm.
She needed a minute to catch her breath and knew that he had not
come. She got off of him and lay on his side. She spread her legs,
ready to offer him a reward for “behaving.”

Nicola did not like quick sex but realized
this time, that’s all that was going to happen. He guided his erect
member into her, eliciting a gasp. He slid deeply inside and
started to move aggressively. Carmen felt invaded by an Egyptian
obelisk. He was a little too big, especially when he thrusted so
fast and deep into her. She felt like he was ripping her apart,
holding her down with her hands above her head. He was not even
trying to kiss her; he just plunged deeply inside her, over and
over again. The nightmare of her being raped when young was
returning to her consciousness until an intense orgasm erupted deep
into her body. Nicola did not stop; he kept moving every which way
into her, feeling her muscles clutching around his shaft. She
exploded again and again until he finally climaxed with a last deep
thrust.

Carmen was angry. She was overpowered, and
she hated that. On the other hand, she marveled at the fullness of
his manhood inside her. She could not believe that she had managed
to accommodate him. She felt his shaft slowly softening, his hands
on her breast and his tongue into her mouth. She could hardly
breathe. Nicola finally withdrew and fell on his back beside
her.

“Why did you do that,” she asked, still
panting and soaked in sweat.

“I did what you wanted,” was his
response.

“I got off the first time when I was on top
of you. That’s all I wanted. I let you on top of me so you would
come as well; instead, you practically raped me. You are twice my
size, for God’s sake.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes, it hurt. You are so damn big.”

“Would you prefer a smaller man?”

“I prefer a man that does what he is
told.”

“That’s not what I want, Carmen. In my view,
making love to a woman is like indulging with a fine brandy. I warm
the glass in my hand, swirl the amber liquid around, observe the
nectar cling to the side of the vessel; then I take the first sip
and savor the taste on my tongue. I then take a second sip, this
time enjoying the fullness of the liquor. I keep doing it until it
is gone.”

“Very poetic, except that I am not a glass of
booze. I know what I want, and I don’t like to be controlled, not
to mention being plowed by a locomotive.”

“So you did not like my plowing into
you.”

“Oddly, it hurt, but I liked it. You almost
split me apart, but I liked it. But you might try doing it a little
gentler next time.”

“I am delighted that there will be a next
time, love.” He took her jaw and turned her to him. He kissed her
with passion and she loved it.

“Nicola, we need to reach an understanding.
Sometimes, I just need sex, short and sweet. I also enjoy your more
leisurely approach, which is great. If we are going to stay
together, you need to read me better.”

“Touché, I am will be waiting for your
instructions with baited breath.”

Carmen grabbed the pillow and whacked it at
him repeatedly. “It’s a two-way street here, buddy. Develop some
sensitivity.”

“I promise I shall be a devout practitioner
of sensitivity.”

Carmen whacked him again until Nicola grabbed
and hugged her tightly against his chest.

They fell asleep into each other’s arms until
a loud noise startled her. It sounded like a passenger plane
landing over them.

“It’s the train,” Nicola informed her
matter-of-fact. The beach is separated from the rest of town by the
railroad. The train station is only one block away.

“When do you get any sleep here?”

“It’s not a problem, you get used to it.”

The next morning, they went to the beach
across from their apartment on Corso Valparaiso. An amazing
concrete boardwalk sported powerful nozzles that sprayed water
upward, creating a beautiful fountain effect at the far edge of the
walkway. Marinas and shops below were bustling; handsome people
enjoyed their passeggiata and a few kids played on bumper cars at
the playground.

“They say that a big storm is coming. We need
to keep alert for a couple of days.” Nicola knew his weather.

BOOK: Tess Awakening
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