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This story was written for the 750 Word Project 2024. The setting is Lake Iseo in northern Italy, and the story was inspired by a photo challenge issued by @EmilyMillerLit in the Authors’ Hangout.
Below this line are exactly 750 words
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“Wine,” I said. “Red, please.”
The girl behind the counter smiled; her coral-pink lips and brown eyes just as enchanting as they’d been earlier, when she’d been cavorting in the shallow water with her friends.
“I love how brave you are,” she said, as she decanted a slender glass. “Wearing that chemise. All the boys were staring. You are very elegant.”
I scoffed and rolled my eyes; she grinned at my blush.
“Boys,” I said. “They are easily led. The real enjoyment is… elsewhere.”
“It is?”
“Mm,” I said. “Oh, that is good. I love our local wine. This is from Villa Elisa, down on the west shore where the Oglio joins the lake.”
“Really?”
She picked up the bottle and stared at the label. “You’re right,” she said. “Huh. I never noticed that.”
“You’re from Iseo, aren’t you?” I said, enjoying the way she pursed Maltepe travesti her lips when she was thinking.
“Yes,” she agreed.
“So am I,” I said. It was true, in a way.
She smiled. “A local? At this place? Impossible,” she laughed. “Only the rich tourists from Milan come here. Oh, so tiresome. So, if you’re local, where are you from?”
“Monte Isola,” I said, softly.
She stared at me. “The church on the island? No way. That’s so cool! So you live there?”
“I look after it, yes,” I said. I smiled.
“That’s so amazing. I always look at it and wonder what it’s like there.”
“Old, and quiet. Boring,” I said. “That’s why I’m here. Looking for fun.”
She laughed, then… paused, and glanced around, as if checking we weren’t being watched.
“What kind of fun,” she said, softer.
Her hand rested on the counter; I reached out and touched it with my fingertip.
“Oh. You know. Fun.”
I heard the soft, shaky breath she took. She was young, and full of life, her cheeks were pink with the warmth of youth.
“If only there were some to be had,” Maltepe travestileri I added, letting my voice go warm and soft.
She swallowed, glanced around.
There was nobody else around yet; it was still early.
“You are very pretty,” I whispered. “I bet you taste good.”
She shivered; I noticed the way she shifted, as if she were squeezing her thighs together. I smiled, stared up at her, and slowly sipped my wine again.
“Come with me,” she said suddenly. “Quickly, before someone sees.”
Giggling, she took me by the hand and pulled me around the bar, then through the dark wood door into the small little kitchen behind it. My hands were already at her buttons, tripping them one after another as she spun, breathlessly.
“We don’t have much time,” she panted. “Whatever you want to do to me, it must be quick.”
“This time,” I gasped. I tripped the button of her trousers and pulled them and her sheer black panties down her glorious thighs; she squeaked as I put my hands on her bum and lifted her onto the counter.
“Oh God,” she moaned.
Her fingers travesti Maltepe knotted and twined in my hair as I tongued her, she began to writhe and mewl as I put a finger into her.
She was hot, and tight, and smelled divine; I was brutal, hard, fast, and all too soon she was panting and grunting as she came for me.
“Oh, oh God, oh God,” she whimpered. “Oh, you are good…”
And she slipped off the counter onto shaking legs and fumbled her hand up under the sheer fabric of what little I had clothed myself in. Light flashed behind my eyes as she parted and entered me.
She, too, was skilled, and it was far, far too brief.
I leaned against the wall, watching her as she tugged her hair straight and rebuttoned her shirt. She gave me a knowing smile, then leaned in, kissing me once in a way I’d almost forgotten.
“I am here all the time,” I whispered.
“So am I,” she answered. “Next time, plan better. I want more of you.”
She snuck out; I followed. We were still alone.
“I finish at ten,” she said. “Come find me.”
“I’ll be right here,” I whispered. “I always am.”
She grinned, and was about to speak when another customer walked in.
I finished my wine, and blew her a kiss. Then I wandered out into the night, to stare at my waters where I glittered in the silver moonlight.
She was perfect.
I would love her for as long as she wanted me.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
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