Home > life, writing > A Time To Fly (9) – 18+

A Time To Fly (9) – 18+

Writhing beneath her blankets, Belinda dreamed of Vincenzo Taglioni.  She felt herself in his arms, being held firmly and kissed all over by his eager young mouth.  She was on the beach with him again.  He was lying on a blanket on his stomach, taking the sun when he asked her to spread him with cream.  She took the tube and squirted a dollop onto her palm and spread in over his broad back, her small, dark hand slipping over the defined muscles.  She put another dollop in her palm and spread it over his tight buttocks.  She felt the solid curve of the muscle.  It felt wonderful on her palm, slick with cream, sliding over this gorgeous young man’s behind.  The thrill filled her, and she yielded to the temptation to lean down and kiss the roundness.

Vincenzo rolled over onto his back, and Belinda found herself facing his young manhood, reaching toward her as if trying to touch her.  She was about to reach for it when Giuseppi came out of the trees, walking naked toward them.  He sat on the blanket beside Vincenzo.  Now the young man and the mature lover sat naked before her, both their organs reaching eagerly for her.  As her mind grappled with what to do first, she came slowly awake.  She had been sleeping for six hours.  It was eight in the evening and Belinda slid out of bed and went to her shower.  She stood under the warm jet of water and recalled the shower experience at Giuseppi Guererra’s palatial home.

After she towelled herself dry and spread skin cream over her entire body, she fixed her hair, put on a touch of makeup, and went down to cross the alley to the sidewalk café.  As she approached in the faint light of the street lamps, she could see that many of the tables were occupied.  It was a warm, fragrant night, and perfect for sipping cappuccino in a sidewalk café.  She was scanning the tables, looking for a vacancy, when a man stood up at a table in the middle of the area and waved her to him.  As she approached, she saw that it was Vincenzo Taglioni and she walked quickly toward him.  His rich, warm voice welcomed her, and his white teeth in the wide smile gleamed in the dark.  Belinda felt grateful that she was given another chance to meet with Vincenzo.

       “Please share my table,” he said.  “I am very pleased to see you again.”

       “Thank you, Vincenzo,” she smiled.  “I am happy to see you again, also.  I want to apologise for my attitude the last time we met.”

       “No need at all,” he said.  “I admire you all the more for not being too readily available at the drop of a hat.” Belinda had a brief twinge within her chest as she recalled the night’s debauchery, and wondered what Vince would think if he knew about it.  “I hope you do not have to run off again,” he said.  “I would be very happy if you would spend at least part of your evening with me.”

       “I’m flattered,” she said.  “Are you not concerned about being seen by your friends as you go about with a woman old enough to be your mother?”

       “Not in the least,” he said.

       “And you are not worried about being associated with a black woman?” she said, her brow furrowed with concern.

       “Don’t be silly, Belinda,” he said.  “This is Italy, not America.  We do not bother with such odious distinctions.  You are a strikingly beautiful woman, and obviously very sexy and intelligent.  I suspect that you can cook, too, which would make you a completely desirable woman.”  Belinda blushed through her dark skin and looked at her hands in her lap.

       “If I were to spend the evening with you,” she said.  She looked up at Vince to read his face when he answered, “where would we go?”

       “There is a small club I like,” he said.  “They have entertainment that you might enjoy, as well as good food.  A singer performs there who is gaining popularity day by day.”

       “That sounds nice,” she said.

       “And there is a terrace beneath the moon where we could dance,” he said.  “I will be proud if you will accompany me.”

       “I hope you won’t regret it,” she said with a shy smile, “and I will be proud to accompany you.”

       “Excellent!  Please excuse me for a moment while I make a phone call,” he said.  “Please do not disappear.  I shall return momentarily.”  Vince left the table and strode toward the restaurant.  Again, Belinda watched his retreating backside.  The broad back and beautiful buns again ignited her imagination.

       “Shall we go?” he said when he returned to Belinda after a short time.  He held his hand out to her and she slipped her hand into it.  His grip was warm, dry, and gentle as he easily drew her up from her chair.  He slipped his arm around her waist and guided her between the tables out to the street.  To her surprise, he led her to a small motor scooter, a white Vespa.

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