PUSSY PAUSE IN PONZA WITH THE ITALIAN STALLION
Lorenzoand I have been on his family’s yacht anchored in Ponza for a weekend now. In that weekend we have not had sex once. Not even a blowjob. Not even going down on me. Frankly my clit could use a break from the countless barrage of poundings it has suffered the past month. Lying on the swimming deck, I smiled as the sun grazed across my bikini clad body. The Italian sun has not only overdosed me on vitamin D but has effectively turned my Italian olive skin to a golden, sun-kissed bronze. The boat rolled gently on the waves as we were anchored off the coastline. A deep sigh escaped from my lips as I stood up begrudgingly and walked to the railing of the swim deck. I had the most magnificent view of Piscine Naturali. The clear turquoise deep blue waters surrounded by all natural white cliffs were mesmerizing. A smile of appreciativeness crosses my face and in a way I feel the spirit of my Nonna with me in that very moment. The muggy salt air swirled lightly around me from an offshore breeze as I smoothed out the black fabric out of my ass cheeks before walking into the cabin off the deck. I don’t think I have been this relaxed continuously before. The sights. The sounds. The smells. My air-dried curls were raked with my fingers into a loose ponytail, hanging low between my shoulders.
The main cabin was expansive with a small kitchen, two leather couches and a fully stocked bar encapsulated in all glass windows. A steady movement to the side gathered my attention outside. Lorenzo paced the deck holding his phone on speaker phone. Antonio’s frustrated and pensive voice clearly heard across the ship. A stern look crossed Lorenzo’s face before raking his fingers through his thick hair. His muscled shoulders glistening from the sweat beading from the summer sun. His tan swim trunks were tight around his hips and ass. The man was unlike anything I had ever seen before. I reach down to the table next to me and place a Bluetooth earbud headphone into my ear and my phone before sitting on the leather sofa across the cabin. As I sat just under the small window in front of him, I quickly pressed the translate on an app on my phone in my hands.
“Le tue priorita risiedono nella famiglia e non con qualche puttana,” Antonio says, his voice muffled through the speakers.
I look down at my phone as the app translates in front of me.
Your priorities lie with the family and not with some whore.
“Ouch,” I breathe.
“Guarda la tua bocca,” Lorenzo seethes through clenched teeth.
Watch your mouth.
“I Marcelli sono una maledizione che non lasceró intaccare questa famiglia,” Antonio’s voice dripping with venomous anger.
The Marcelli’s are a curse that I will not let affect this family.
How are we a curse?
“Non parliamo di chi ha rovinato questa famiglia,” Lorenzo says in a hushed whisper, careful of his immediate surroundings.
Let’s not talk about what happened to that family.
“Lorenzo,” Antonio warns.
“Your loyalties will either lie with me or with him. You decide,” Lorenzo says, hanging up his phone and throwing it onto the cushioned chair beside him.
He grasps the railing on the side of the ship. His head hanging over the side. His chest rising and falling with deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. I put my phone down on the couch and the earbud headphone with it. I walk upon him outside the open doorway near him, careful not to startle him.
“Hey,” I whisper.
My hand grazes across his naked lower back, my fingers snaking around his hip and gripping around his cut abs. He deeply sighs as he relaxes under my touch. My lips feather-light kisses from his shoulders down his spine. He takes a shuddering breath and lets out a deep sigh.
Antonio clearly knows about the Marcelli curse. Do I tell him I eavesdropped on his conversation or let it be?
I let his body free of my grasp and turn away from him. Before I can walk away, his fingers grip my hands roughly. I faced him, my fingers grazing across his tattooed knuckles.
“What do these stand for?” I asked.
“Ace of spades for being in charge. A snake for being prey. Italia,” he says, pointing to each of his fingers.
“And the skull?”
“Reminds me I will be with the family business until the day I die,” he whispers.
“That’s very depressing.”
I can sense his eyes on me, and a smile graces my face. He looks me up and down. His eyes sparkling. His grin dimpling his face. His fingers graze the inside of my bikini bottom, trailing across my waist.
“You like?” I ask.
“Love,” he says smugly.
His large ring covered hand covers my cheek and pulls me against him for a fierce kiss. My manicured nails teasing his v lightly. As he pulls away from the kiss, he rests his forehead against mine.
“Everything okay?” I ask, my voice soft, afraid to hear the answer.
“Just a disagreement with Antonio. It will be fine,” he says.
“If you need to get back to work, we can go back,” I insist.
“Come for a swim,” he says, diving across the railing into the clear waters below.
The ship rocks back and forth gently with the small waves off the coast. He pops out of the water quickly, wiping water away from his eyes and off his hair.
“Enzo, I’m serious.”
“So am I,” a dimpled smile beamed across his face.
This man is certifiable. Am I wrapped around his finger? Or is he wrapped around mine?
I was a formidable swimmer, but even I struggled to maintain the speed in which the man swam towards the cave in front of us carved into the cliffs. The rock wall is the only remains of a volcanic eruption. The water was warm and truthfully swimming in these natural pools were unlike anything I have ever swam in before. It was warm bathwater and perfect for skinny dipping. As I swam through the open cliff face, Lorenzo floated carefree in the water inside.
“Is this where you kill me?” I giggle softly.
“I wanted to show the most beautiful woman, the most beautiful place on the whole island,”
“Enzo?” I ask hesitantly, gripping his muscled forearms with my hands.
Grabbing my hand in his, “Come on.”
He held my hand as we swam further into the cave, which was lit the most miraculous turquoise blue from the glare of the water. As we swam further inside, the water became less deep, and we walked along smooth rocks inside the edge of the cave. My palm running along the smooth white rock of the cave walls.
“This is amazing,” I whisper.
“The caves and tunnels carved out of the rock for women to bathe in so their skin would not get burnt by the sun.”
Nodding my head in agreement, “Makes sense,” I say.