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Carla
The hotel bedroom was shades of white, and white was the colour of the T-shirt she was wearing. I pulled it slowly over her head as she lay on the huge white bed and slipped it off to uncover a plain white bra she didn’t really need to restrain her small firm breasts.
It was my first summer in Milan, and it seemed a long way from Sheffield. I was there to learn Italian; she was studying industrial design and was there on a work placement. We had been seeing each other for a few weeks but this was our first time together. It wasn’t exactly planned, not that anything about our relationship had been planned. Just before I came out to Italy I had sort-of broken up with my girlfriend (who might or might not still be there for me when I got back, it was complicated) so I didn’t consider myself to be on the market. But all that changed when Carla came into my life.
It was love (or lust) at first sight. Not that Carla was what I’d have called my type: short, gamine, dark-haired with soulful brown eyes — very Italian. What she saw in me I’ll never know. We met in a random bar; I was feeling lonely and a bit homesick and thought I would try and find some of this dolce vita that was supposed to be about. She was with a girlfriend and in the ordinary way I’d just have left her alone but there was something about her. She caught me looking at her a couple of times and I looked away, embarrassed. But when the girlfriend finished her drink and left, Carla hung around, even though her glass was almost empty.
I told myself I was just practicing my Italian and asked her if she’d like a drink. She hesitated long enough for me to convince myself that I’d said the wrong thing, and then she accepted.
So we’d been on a few sort-of dates, we’d had lunch a couple of times, we’d been to the cinema, and then some actual dates, there’d been a little necking. Tonight we’d been for dinner at a place she recommended and maybe had too much to drink and she’d asked me shyly back to her room. I wasn’t going to say no. We’d never done much more than kiss, not for want of trying on my part. I knew the hotel where she was staying but had never been invited in: a swanky modern place bang in the centre of town, well beyond most people’s budget, but her family were loaded so I guessed they were paying for it.
I discarded my own shirt and we lay together for a while, kissing and enjoying the closeness of our bodies. She kissed me back with enthusiasm and abandon, caressing my neck and shoulders. I unhooked the bra and she raised her arms to let me slide it off. Her soft olive skin was a shade paler underneath. There was a dark fuzz of hair under her upraised arms.
I had been obsessed with her breasts for a long time. She’d sometimes let me stroke them through her clothing, and I’d had the odd glimpse when she was wearing a low-cut top, but this was the first time I’d seen them in all their glory. They were lovely, pear-shaped and yielding to the touch. I gave them a lot of attention with my mouth and finger, especially the tender undersides. Her nipples were small and dark, and when I sucked on them gently she gave a little moan of pleasure. I’d never known her let herself go like this. It was incredibly exciting.
She was wearing loose black trousers of some soft material and they pulled down easily to expose the tops of her thighs. She raised her neat little backside to help. Underneath she had white panties with a pink love-heart embroidered on the front. I had to smile: so Carla. A few dark pubic hairs were sneaking enticingly out of the waistband.
I caressed the hot satin skin of her inner thighs and she sighed with pleasure. Then I very gently placed a fingertip at the tip of the love-heart, and was rewarded with a soft gasping cry. I began to move my finger in slow little circles.
“Yes, like that. Just there.”
I kissed her neck, and the place just behind her ear which I knew was sensitive. Carla was panting hard. She began to buck her hips a little in time with my movements. Soon she was tossing her head from side to side on the pillow. I could feel her body tensing.
“Mother of God, I’m coming!”
I’d dreamed so often of making her come. She cried out, and her fingernails dug into my shoulders. It was intoxicating.
I stood up and shed the rest of my clothes. Carla watched me through sleepily half-closed eyes, naked but for her pink ankle-socks and the little white love-heart panties.
“I don’t have a condom,” I admitted sheepishly.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got a coil.”
I didn’t quite understand what she said — Carla’s from the south, and I was still having trouble with her accent — but I got the gist of it. I was surprised: she’d always been so demure that I had half-expected her to be a virgin. Relieved as well.
Quickly I rejoined her and slid the panties down her legs. She kicked them away.
“I’m so wet for you.”
She was too, visibly so. Her bush was full and inviting, the lips of her sex a gebze escort rich dark pink like a damask rose. I couldn’t remember ever having been so hard. I was almost shaking. Carla raised her knees in the classic gesture of invitation: no language barrier there.
She grunted softly when I slid into her. She was so soft and hot and welcoming. I didn’t dare to move in case I came right there and then.
“You feel so good,” I whispered. I wanted to tell her she had a beautiful cunt, but my Italian wasn’t up to it. You never get the words you really need in phrase-books.
“You too. Fuck me, my darling.”
Finally I began to move, slowly, desperate to last, wanting her to enjoy every second as much as I was. Carla’s little sounds of pleasure were a more powerful turn-on than any porn-star screaming could have been. It was so intimate, for my ears only. Her face was incredibly expressive — I already knew and loved that about her — and now she was sexier than ever, squirming under me, every stroke acknowledged with a soft mewing sigh and a squeeze of her fingers on my upper arms. It was too much.
“Shit,” I said in English, and then in Italian: “I can’t hold it.”
“It doesn’t matter. Fill me.”
And I did: a scalding hot orgasm that seemed to go on forever. I was ashamed and relieved at once.
“I’m sorry.”
“I told you, it doesn’t matter. It was lovely.”
I stayed in her. We kissed some more. She began stroking my back.
“That’s nice.”
After a little while I started to get hard again. She gazed into my eyes.
“My God. You stallion.”
“You have that effect on me.”
She giggled. When other women giggled I found it annoying: somehow it was just sweet when she did it.
“I want to make you come,” I said.
“Yes.”
I began to move steadily, pulling almost all the way out, pushing all the way in. Carla began to move with me, sighing with each thrust as she had before. She wrapped her legs around me and I could feel the slight roughness of her socks against my calves.
“Does it feel good?”
“Fantastic,” she said. “Don’t stop.”
So I kept going, not varying the pace. I raised myself a little so that I could go a little deeper, and so I had space to caress her breasts. As soon as I grazed a nipple she cried out softly.
“Darling. Too much.”
“You want me to stop?”
“Oh God. I love it.”
I knew she was starting to get close again from the way she breathed, the increasing urgency of her movements. She turned her head this way and that as I began to go harder. Her cries grew louder, more staccato.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmured. “So sexy. Come for me.”
“I’m close.”
“I know.”
“Faster. Oh my God yes, yes, yes…”
Her second climax was even lovelier than the first. I could feel her insides clamping and relaxing, over and over. She collapsed beneath me, breathless, her face flushed and glistening.
“You darling,” she murmured. “That was fantastic.”
Still hard, I pulled out of her reluctantly and rolled over beside my lover. I felt exhausted and triumphant and blissfully happy. Carla snuggled into me. She touched my cock, hesitantly at first, then stroking it with greater confidence as I sighed with pleasure.
“He’s beautiful,” she said. “Can I ride him?”
“Be my guest.”
I rolled onto my back, happy she would be doing the work this time. Carla straddled me, teasing me for a while, toying with my cock.
“You’re so beautiful,” I said again, and I meant it.
“Darling.” She raised herself a little and slipped me inside her. “Oh, if you knew how that feels…”
Her cunt was like silk. She moved slowly, slowly, circling her hips around. When she leaned forward to take her weight on her arms, her breasts seemed to offer themselves to my hands. I didn’t resist temptation.
“I want this to go on forever,” she sighed.
It couldn’t go on forever, of course, but it was extraordinary while it did. Carla began to touch herself, much as I had earlier, and the muscles in her outspread thighs began to tremble. She was breathing hard, her eyes closed to focus on the sensations, her face an erotic masterpiece.
“Are you going to come again?” I asked. A stupid question, but I had the idea that talking dirty turned her on.
“Yes. Soon. You feel so good inside me… so deep…”
I started to push up into her, wanting to drive her over the edge, to see and hear another beautiful release. She whimpered plaintively, desperate to make it last, but after a dozen hard strokes like this she was gone. She fell onto me, almost sobbing. When she could speak again, she said:
“Incredible. So strong… no man has ever done that to me.”
I held her close. We were both sweating and her overflowing juices were sticking us together anyhow. But even though she was a mess, right at that moment she was the most beautiful woman in göztepe escort the world, and I told her so in my best Italian. Except for the part about being a mess, of course.
“You’re sweet.”
“I mean it.”
“Will you stay tonight?”
It hadn’t occurred to me to leave, even if I’d had the strength. “Of course.”
“I need a shower.”
“Me too.”
“Maybe later.” She kissed me fondly. “You still didn’t come again.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“But it isn’t fair.”
“I don’t mind.”
“And it’s such a waste…”
She reached down to caress my half-hard cock. I was surprised to find that I still had the energy to respond.
“So you still find me sexy even though I look like this.”
“You look incredible.”
“I must look like I fell out of a tree.”
“I have a thing for women who fall out of trees.”
She giggled again. “It’s so easy to be with you. I never met a man like you before. Italian men are so serious.”
“I’m serious sometimes. Carla, I’m falling in love with you.”
“And I’ve fallen in love with this.” A gentle squeeze of the head of my cock made me gasp. “Make love to me again, darling.”
“How do you want it?”
“Any way you want,” she said with a boldness I hadn’t known in her before. “But I want to feel you come inside me again. It was so good before.”
I still wasn’t sure if I could, but there was only one way to find out. I eased her over onto her back. No preliminaries were required. She was so open now that I slid in deep with barely any friction. Her welcoming moan was richer, fuller: she was no longer a girl but a woman. My woman.
I moved in her with a rocking motion, wanting to come but wanting it to last. She moved with me, her fingers caressing my neck and shoulders. To my surprise, and hers too I think, after a few minutes she began to build to yet another climax. Her soft straining cries became louder, more plaintive. With the finish-line in sight, I began to give it to her harder. I couldn’t take my eyes from her face.
She opened her eyes to stare into mine. “Together,” she gasped urgently.
I came first, barely. The instant she felt me spurt inside her she arched her back and shuddered.
“My God!”
“Carla!”
I kissed her, too overcome to speak. I couldn’t have found the right words anyway, certainly not in Italian.
Later we showered together in her lavish bathroom and I took her against the tiled wall as hot water streamed over us. I’d never done that before; maybe she had, she never spoke about other men. It was hard work, supporting her weight with her legs wrapped around me while I ploughed up into her, but it was fantastic for both of us. Carla came twice, her cries amplified by the echo of the bathroom. She told me I was insatiable, not that she could talk.
We dried ourselves off and collapsed into bed, leaving our clothes strewn around the room. Carla fell asleep in my arms and once again I felt that overwhelming surge of love and tenderness that she seemed to bring out in me as no other woman ever had.
I woke from a deep sleep somewhere in the small hours to the sensation of her hot soft mouth on my cock. For a second or two I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming. She had my balls in her hand and was sucking on the tip, running her tongue around the rim as if she was eating an ice-cream.
“Carla?”
She stopped. “Damn, I wanted to see if I could make you come without waking you.”
“You could wake the dead doing that.”
She giggled. “I think you’re still alive.”
I was rock-hard. She slid up my body, not quite relinquishing her gentle grip on my genitals.
“You’re very, very good at that,” I said.
“I know.”
“I should return the favour.”
“Another time. I want you inside me again.”
“Again?”
“Again.”
She guided me in, sighing deeply as I slid fully inside. She had already got me half-way there so I knew it wouldn’t last but clearly it had turned her on as well. I could feel her fingers moving busily as she gave herself some extra stimulation.
“I’m going to come any second,” I warned her.
“Yes! Do it!”
She wasn’t quite there when I came but she finished seconds later, panting hard.
When I woke up again — naturally, this time — it was full daylight and Carla was sleeping on her side with her back to me, still exquisitely naked. Very gently, so as not to wake her, I began to caress her shoulders, then her flanks. I kissed the back of her neck, the skin behind her ear. She rolled back against me, still asleep, so that the warm soft flesh of her buttock was against my cock. I let my fingers stray across her hip to the coarse hair of her mound. Very carefully, still not wanting to wake her with a false move, I searched blindly for the spot. I knew I had found it when she whimpered softly in her sleep.
I began to make little circles with my fingertip, halkalı escort just I had that first time I made her come. Carla began to squirm, rubbing herself against me. By this time I was iron-hard. I pushed between her legs. I could feel she was wet. I put the tip of my cock just against her entrance.
“My God,” she murmured, “yes.”
That was all the permission I needed to thrust right into her. She groaned and rolled over onto her front, her legs parted, her hands clutching tightly on the pillow. I fucked her steadily and deep. In this position she couldn’t move much but her deep sighs of pleasure reassured me it was good for her. I continually kissed her neck and shoulders.
“Harder,” she urged. “Yes, like that. Oh yes, I’m coming.”
“Come for me.”
“Yes! For you! Ohh…”
Her whole body seemed to quake as she reached a beautiful deep orgasm. I paused to give her time to recover.
“What a way to wake up,” she said fondly.
“I couldn’t help it. You’re so gorgeous.”
After a little while she disengaged herself and rolled onto her back.
“Will you do something for me?”
“Of course.”
“I want to watch you come.”
This was a new one on me. “Okay.”
“Actually I want you to come on me.”
“On you?”
“All over me. Come on my tits.”
I’d never had a woman request that before. It was especially surprising coming from a girl who, before last night, had been so shy and clean-spoken. But that only made it sexier.
I straddled her to give her the best view possible. Her eyes were fixed on my cock while her hand moved onto her sex. She looked incredible. I had had so many morning sessions imagining her naked body that I was ready for a quick finish. I began stroking my flaming cock while she got busy with her fingers.
“Do you want this?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I was breathing hard. “It’s all for you.”
“Come for me,” she panted. “I want it.”
“Oh, Carla…”
I came hard, over her belly, the back of her hand, spattering her shaking breasts. Carla whimpered as she approached her peak. With her free hand she massaged my come into her skin, over her breasts, her collar-bone. I had never seen anything so devastatingly erotic. She climaxed with a grunt, her back arching, her eyes closed.
“That was so hot,” she said. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“I think I need another shower.”
“I think you do.”
We showered, separately this time, and put on the white towelling bathrobes supplied by the hotel. While I was in the shower, Carla phoned down to room service for croissants, coffee and orange juice. If the waiter who brought them in was surprised she had company he did a good job of hiding it; but I guess that’s part of what you pay for in a place like that.
It was a pleasant morning, so we breakfasted on her balcony which overlooked a park. It felt as if we had been lovers forever, in a good way.
“Do you have to be anywhere today?” I asked her.
“I just want to be with you.” Her smile was heart-stopping.
“That sounds good to me.”
The bathrobe brought out her suntan. The way she was sitting, relaxed and with her thighs a little open, made it ride up a little, making a dark inviting cavern. Heaven knows I ought to have been satisfied with the amount of sex we’d had already but maybe she was right, I was insatiable.
“It’s a beautiful day,” she said. “Maybe we should go out somewhere.”
“In a little while.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning maybe we could stay in for a while.”
“I see.”
I put my hand on her thigh, just at the edge of her robe, so that I wasn’t quite touching her skin. I could feel the heat of her body, though. Carla sipped her coffee, playing it cool.
“Carla, I’m crazy about you.”
“Are you trying to seduce me?”
“Perhaps.”
“Maybe I don’t want to be seduced.”
“Do you want me to take my hand away?”
“I didn’t say that.”
I brushed her skin lightly with the very tips of my fingers. She didn’t react but kept on drinking coffee. I let my hand slide down between her thighs. It was pretty hot down there. Carla put her cup down and closed her eyes. I moved my hand towards her knee, so that the robe parted a little more. I switched to the other thigh and moved back up again, taking my time, teasing her.
“Touch me,” she murmured.
“I am touching you.”
“You know what I mean. Touch me there.”
“Where?” I wanted her to say the word because I knew it would turn her on.
“My pussy.”
“Like this?” I brushed against the lips of her cunt, barely making contact.
“Oh God. Yes.”
“I’d like to lick you there,” I said. “Would you like that?”
By way of answer, Carla turned a little to face me and spread her legs. I knelt between them. She was already a little wet. I could see it and smell it.
Knowing she enjoyed a gentle touch, I ran the very tip of my tongue along her crack, stopping just short of her clit. She whimpered. I did it again, slowly, making her wait, and then flicked my tongue over her button so that she gasped and her thighs quivered. I kept this up for what seemed like an eternity, gradually making my touch a little firmer until she was breathing hard and I judged she was close to the edge.
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