“And what do you want now?” I ask, our sexuality tethered together, my instincts dominating my actions now. It almost surprises me, the thoughts I used to think silently now coming out in actual words.
“Now, I want you to take off your panties, lay down and spread your legs.”
I chuckle with a blush, nod, and begin to slowly pull my panties down my legs. I do as he says and spread my legs, resting my body back against the pillows. I’m obeying not only Antonio but the woman inside me who for so long has waited to be set free.
To my surprise, he moves to lie with his head between my legs and shifts his hands beneath my ass cheeks, lifting me to his mouth. When he licks his tongue slowly along my slit, I can’t help but gasp at the soft, warm sensation. I’ve never been eaten out before; last night we were too busy with each other’s bodies to get to this kind of slow-paced, sensual act of pleasure. I swallow my embarrassment and focus on relaxing my limbs, letting the pleasure take me over. He licks me a few more times, pushing his tongue deeper to spread the lips open. When I’m splayed and soaking wet, he presses his tongue flat against my clit.
“Ah, shit,” I say quietly, closing my eyes and savoring the feelings Antonio is pulling out of me. I’m tender and sensitive after the long night of mind-blowing sex, but I can tell he’s taking it easy on me, working me gently with his tongue.
With his left hand still holding my ass, he pulls his right hand out and presses his finger slowly into me. It draws a moan from my lips and a whoosh of breath from my lungs. The skin inside me is bruised, but I welcome the feeling of him invading me again. His tongue relaxes me, softly licking and pressing and sliding against my clit. The pressure of his finger moving slowly inside me added to the heated soft sensations of his tongue are almost enough to send me over the edge, but instead, I stay still, loose, relaxing my body and allowing Antonio to pleasure me, to console my sore and tired pussy.
* * *
Time seemsto have slipped away from us, it’s already noon and I can’t believe Antonio has been with me the whole time. Food is left for us again by Sophia who quietly knocks and leaves the food on a cart outside.
“Can you get it?” Antonio asks, he’s putting on his shirt and pants.
Opening the door temporarily exposes me to the other voices of the house, to the reminder that Antonio’s whole other life exists just a few steps down the hall. I look down to the tray of food, noticing a cream envelope addressed to Antonio between the two metal cloches. A bottle of wine rattles within an ice bucket as I wheel the cart inside.
“There’s a note for you.”
His reaction is subtle, private messages passed on dinner trays are apparently a normality to him. He opens it, reads it, then folds the paper, putting the note back in the envelope. Every inch of me wants to ask what it says, though I have to remember my place. He pours me a glass of the chilled wine, then a knock comes to the door.
I go to get up, but Antonio waves his hand and tells me to sit. He walks to the door and pulls it ajar, just enough for him to stick his head out. A strange man’s voice mumbles incomprehensibly for a short minute before the door closes.
“After we eat, I have to go,” I’m told.
“You have to go?” I sip from my glass and reveal the plates from under the metal cloches—roasted cod fish with cherry tomatoes.
“There’s something I need to take care of,” he tells me, then cuts into his fish without any elegance. “I won’t be back tonight.”
I don’t even pick up my cutlery. I just keep the wine glass clenched in my hand. It feels like he’s abandoning me.
He lifts his head and frowns. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Now, eat your food.”
I shift in my chair. “Is this what it’s like for the women in the lives of men like you? Doomed to be kept at an arm’s length?”
Antonio stops eating and takes a large gulp from his glass.
“No,” he says simply, then takes another bite, forking fish and tomato together, a look of certainty on his face, but I’m not sure.