am known in some circles as a bit of a gigolo. Yes, old women
mostly, hunting for a large cock and pretty face. I was walking
along the lido, smoking as usual, when she approached me. Five
hundred thousand lire for letting her try to wrap her lips around
it. "It suits me," I said and the deal was done.
balcony was like a stage. The curtain was red velvet, a light
breeze fluttering the hem. "Get yourself hard. And wait for
me to call for you," She commanded. I stripped and started
rubbing. I pride myself on being able to get excited without thinking,
just by touching myself. I also liked women who tell me what to
do. "Stuff that in me! I must have you!" Yes, certainly.
At your command. I don't like to get involved, really.
stepped onto the balcony, expecting to play out her fantasy. She
had one of those tiny, pinched mouths, outlined in a smear of
red lipstick, that she was determined to use on my cock. I liked
seeing her struggle with it, trying with no small amount of desperation
to get the head of it to go, watching her cheeks puff out when
she finally had wedged it in. But she was hot and determined.
first it was a matter of showing off for the woman across the
canal. Then something changed. Her eyes got a sort of fire in
them. She stood up, her eyes never leaving mine. "Rip my
dress off!" she whispered hoarsely.
grabbed the collar and ripped it straight down until it fell from
her. Her nipples were the color of old mahogany and stood from
her chest in knobby hardness that I wanted desperately to suck.
Her cunt had been shaved entirely and recently oiled so that it
gleamed like polished marble.
jumped up on the chair and wrapped her arms around my neck. Then
she stepped off the chair, hanging on to my neck while trying
to lower herself onto my cock. It took a while for her to get
it in--I had to grab the cheeks of her little ass and jiggle her
until she was fully impaled. Then I could feel her. It was as
if her pussy was alive, as if it were composed of thousands of
soft little balls all roiling around so that my cock was being
massaged as if by a thousand fingers. Then there was her weight
on it, her legs clamped solidly around my back. Rather than jump
up and down, she moved in slow circles so that my cock was swirling
around her hot vagina like a fat stick stirring thick pudding.
she started to orgasm. I can always tell. She bit my shoulder
and held it for a long time. Then all sorts of smutty words escaped
from her tiny mouth--she didn't stop swirling my cock around in
her cunt but now I could hear the smack of its wetness. I wanted
to fuck her. I wanted to fill her like a man.
waited for her to come down, for the words to lapse into a thick
sigh, then I walked her backwards, placing her bottom on the railing.
It was the right height so I could slip my cock out until the
head was just inside her, then plunge in all the way with enough
force so that her head was jerked backwards over the water. Again
and again I pumped into her. Through eyes half closed from the
exertion of it I looked at the man and woman masturbate across
the way, watching us. I gave them what they longed for--I plunged
harder and harder, lifting her ass off the rail. She didn't seem
to mind, she trusted me to not let her fall.
oh my God, Vincenzo," she repeated over and over. I reached
down and caught her lips between mine and felt her tongue thrust
suddenly deep into my mouth. I slowed down my thrusting to play
with it. We were a circle now, complete, her inside me, me inside
felt her hot pussy clamp down onto my cock and that's all it would
take, the waves of her orgasm began to pull the thick strings
of come out of me with a force that almost hurt--I could feel
the power of it from my ass to the tip of my cock.
went limp, slouching on the rail. I lifted her off and laid her
on the cool tiles of the balcony, a string of my come linking
us right up until I pulled back to look at her, coiled like a
baby in a crib, satisfied, a puddle forming between her slender
legs, her shaven pussy gleaming in the moonlight.
I cannot get involved, I told myself as I went inside to find
to Venice I
Venice II - Anna's Story
Italian Story Index
(c) 1998 by James Martin. All rights reserved.