1 March 2002 11:20 p.m.
When I left the house today, my father was sitting on the sofa watching TV with a vacant look. He asked me where I was going without any real concern, and I felt a response would be superfluous, since nothing I said to him would have changed the expression on his face. He would have remained supine.
If I had told him, "I'm going to the apartment a married man just bought for the express purpose of fucking me," it would have provoked the same effect as "To study at Alessandra's house."
I shut the door softly. I didn't want to disturb his abstract thoughts, so distant from me.
Fabrizio has already provided me with keys to the apartment. He told me to wait for him there, he would arrive after work.
I still hadn't seen it; you can just imagine how much it mattered to me. I parked my scooter in front of the building and entered the dim, deserted lobby.
The voice of the concierge made me jump, and a sudden warmth surprised me. She asked me what I wanted.
"I'm the new tenant," I said loudly, emphasizing each word because I foolishly thought she might be deaf. In fact, she immediately explained, "I'm not deaf. Which floor are you on?"
I gave it a moment's thought and said, "The second, the apartment that Signor Laudiani just bought."
She smiled and said, "Ah, yes! Your father told me you should lock the door once you're inside."
My father? I let it slide. It was pointless to explain that he wasn't my father, apart from the obvious embarrassment it would entail.
I opened the door, and as soon as the key clicked, the stupidity and senselessness of what I was about to do really hit me. It was stupid to start something I absolutely did not want. With his dim-witted voice full of enthusiasm, Fabrizio had told me this afternoon would be special, we would inaugurate "our love nest" with something memorable. The last time I did something that somebody had called memorable I sucked five cocks in a dark room reeking of grass. I hoped that today at least the theme would be different. The entrance was small and quite dulclass="underline" a red carpet gave it a bit of color. From there I could see all the other rooms, but only in snatches: the bedroom, a tiny living room, a kitchenette, and a utility closet. I avoided going into the bedroom so I wouldn't see what that simpleton had hung on the wall. Instead I headed for the living room. Passing the closet, I couldn't help but notice three colored boxes stackedon the floor, so I switched on the light and went in. On top of the boxes was a note written in big letters:
OPEN THE BOXES AND WEAR ONE OF THE THINGS INSIDE
I was definitely snared; my curiosity was piqued.
I rummaged through them, and, all in all, I must admit that he showed some imagination. In the first box was lingerie, pure white and lacy: a sheer slip, panties that were at once sensual and chaste, a pushup bra. Another note placed inside said, for a baby who needs to be cuddled. First box rejected.
The second box contained a pink G-string with some feathers attached behind it, quite like a rabbit's tail, a pair of fishnet stockings, pink shoes with vertiginous high heels, and another note: for a bunny
WHO WANTS TO BE CAPTURED BY THE HUNTER.
Before rejecting it, I wanted to see what the third box would yield.
I liked this game, this unveiling of his desires.
The third box is what I chose: a shiny black bodysuit in latex, accompanied by long high-heeled leather boots, a whip, a black dildo, and a tube of Vaseline. Apart from some cosmetics, the box also contained a note that read, for a mistress who wants to punish her slave. There could be no punishment better than this; he himself had proposed the means. Below the note was the postscript: if you decide to
WEAR THIS, YOU SHOULD CALL ME ONLY AFTER YOU PUT IT ON.
I didn't understand why he made this request, but it was fine with me, the game was becoming more interesting. I'd make him come and go as I pleased-perfect!
I could tell him to shove it up his asshole without any remorse or guilt. But I was annoyed that I had to play this intriguing game with him. He didn't rank high in my estimation; it would have been fantastic to have all these opportunities with the Professor. But I had to play: he'd done too much to ensure a few fucks with me, first the apartment, now these gifts. I saw my phone flashing; he was calling me. I didn't answer; instead, I texted him that I had chosen the third box and would call him later.
I went into the living room, opened the window that gave onto the balcony, and let in a little fresh air to get rid of the musty smell. Then I lay down on the carpet with the warm, enveloping colors. The fresh air, the silence, the diffuse light coming from the setting sun was lulling me to sleep. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply till I perceived my breathing as a wave ebbing and flowing, breaking on the reef, and then withdrawing again into the vastness of the sea. A dream was rocking me, and passion held me in its arms. I didn't manage to make out the man, although I knew very well who he might be. His identity escaped me; his features were indistinct. We were fitted together like a key in a lock, like a farmer's spade thrust into rich, luxuriant soil. His erect member, after nodding off a little while, again began to thrill me with the same shudders as before, and my broken voice showed him how much I was enjoying the game. My desire was making him sluggish, as if I were a cool, fizzy spumante that packed the necessary punch to exalt his senses and send him high as a kite.
He felt increasingly exhausted by my body and my movements, which were rapid and yet slow enough to make him lose any sense of time. I slowly detached my buttocks from his sex so that the arrow did not abruptly leave the open, vermilion wound. Then I observed him with my Lolita smile. I seized the silk garters that had just bound my wrists, this time to tie his. His closed eyes signaled a desire to possess me hard and violent, but I felt I wanted to wait… and wait…
I then took my black stockings, the thigh-highs with the lace band, and tied his ankles to two chairs I had moved to the edge of the bed. Now he was open to pleasure, his and mine. In the midst of that naked body rose the staff of love, so erect, confident, and inflexible that it did not take long to master my pink secret once again. I climbed up on top of him, rubbed my skin against his, sensing our mutual shudders, driven by gentle waves of pleasure. My rigid nippleslightly caressed his torso, its hair pricking my smooth skin, and his hot breath met mine.
I passed the tips of my fingers over his lips, slowly massaging them; then my fingers entered his mouth, gently, smoothly…His moaning made me realize how exciting fingers might be in their journey of discovery. I placed a finger on my dripping rose, moistening it with dew, and then placed it on the coral tip of his stiff penis, which at the touch vibrated slightly in the air like the flag of a commander victorious in battle. Astride him, my buttocks turned toward the mirror and thus reflected in his eyes, I lowered my bosom and whispered "I want you" in his ear.
It was divine to see him at the mercy of my desires, stretched out naked on white sheets that received the outline of his tense, excited body. I took the scented scarf I was wearing when I entered the house, and I blindfolded him so that he could not glimpse the body I permitted him to serve.
I left him there quite a while. Too long. I was crazed with lust, I wanted to straddle that perennially erect shaft, and yet I also wanted to make him wait longer, to wait forever. Finally I rose from the kitchen chair to return to the bedroom where, bound, he was expecting me. He could hear my steps, deliberately quiet and stealthy, and he emitted a sigh of gratitude. He jerked before my body slowly swallowed him up inside it…