Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

The bell clanged again when the door swung back shut. “We’re about to close,” she said.“I’m here about the job? The one…”She smiled briefly as she looked me up and down, then stared into my eyes. “And how much experience do you have with herbalism?”“I worked in an herbal shop for a year in high school.” She nodded slightly and waited for a moment, her unblinking brown eyes watching me. “And some botany classes.”She nodded more appreciatively. “Good.” She then asked me a couple of questions and seemed satisfied that I could answer basic stuff. “I need an assistant with the basics and no cotton stuffing between the ears. You’ll probably find the work boring as hell. If I hire you.”She went and locked the door and turned the sign around. “Come back with me.” We went into a small office and she looked over my small resume, far too small I feared, asked me about my work history, and asked, “Who pointed the job your way?”“Mrs. Cacciato.”She nodded, “One of my best suppliers. How do you know her?”“Did some work for her last summer, before going to college. She has a handyman now but urged me to apply to you.”She nodded and smiled slightly. “I need to make a call.” She dialed and said, “Chiara, buona sera.” I goggled as the only Chiara I knew was surnamed Cacciato. After a second she laughed, “Yes, he’s right here.” She listened for three minutes with only an occasional word in Italian as she watched me with a curious and then quickened expression, then said, “Well, I’d say you’re my new employee…assuming, of course, you don’t mind working for a nosy Italian woman.”“Is there any other kind?”She smiled, “As many as Anglos without a smart mouth. In other words, no.” We laughed and she showed me around the shop, telling me my job would be to unpack, sort, pack, mail, clean up, manage the maintenance, and in every other way make her life sweet and unhectic. “Do you agree?”I stuck out my hand and said “Sì” as we shook.“Chiara ha detto che parli.”“Un poco.”She smiled, “Sì.”“So, what should I call you? ‘Mrs. Strega’?”She laughed. “It’s Ms, and that’s just the store name. ‘Giulia’ is fine.”“So you’re not strega? I’m almost disappointed.”She laughed, “As well you should be. That would be too precious. No, it’s Borroni.”“So, when should I be in?”“Nine.” The next day I learned the ropes, trying not to stare too openly at Giulia, who was in that stage of perfection among Mediterranean women of indeterminate age roughly between thirty and sixty, though her silver hairs suggested she was toward the upper end. Even before that job I had a thing for Italian women, any women of that complexion really, and working in close proximity to her set my throat dry and my loins ablaze. My third day she caught me staring down her blouse as we opened a small box; I blushed and she smiled. After that, I blushed less when caught peeking and she smiled more widely.The Monday after I started, she closed shop for lunch and we chatted as we ate. Soon the phone rang, a short personal call; she answered in Italian that seemed odd.“That was…I guess I don’t know Italian at all.”“That was my sister. Your Italian’s fine for a foreigner…who can’t speak.”“Damn.”She smiled, “We’re Calabrian. Hardly northerners.”“That’s…let’s see…the boot heel.”She nodded. “So no, you probably had a lot of trouble catching most of that.”“Yes, it scarcely sounded Italian, some of it.”“That’s because some of it was Greek, you know.”“Greek…I heard of that. They…you still speak it?”“Some do. We speak only a little. Mother made sure we learned some so we could talk to her side of the family. The grecanici. Father gave us our Italian names, mother our middle names.”“And your Greek name?”“You’ll laugh.”“I won’t.”“Pisti.”I managed not to laugh and asked, “Which means?”“Fede.”“Which means?”She smiled, “Pisti.”We laughed and we chatted about Calabria until reopening. “You take the counter. I have to go into the Sanctum Sanctorum.”“That room down the hall? What’s in there?”“Secrets.”“What secrets?”“My mint.” She smiled to herself. “Oh, I make the occasional love philter when someone from the old country pays the right price.”I smiled, “So this is Casa Strega.”She smiled in return, “It’s Casa Mia. La Cosa Mia.”I hesitated for a second and finally said, “No, I am not going there. I am not touching that one.”She grinned, “A smart brain to go with your smart mouth.” After that I caught her watching me appraisingly, and then with approval. It didn’t matter who caught the other; I always blushed while she only smiled. After three weeks we had monthly inventory and closed early. For four days Giulia had worn a dazzling ruby nestled at the top of her cleavage, and no matter how I tried to avert my eyes it caught them and drew me in as if sinking into a red-tinted dream. As always, she simply smiled.At eight I coughed, then coughed again; I took a cough drop and continued working.After inventory, she said, “You’re officially part of the Casa now.”“Part of Casa Strega.”“Part of Casa Mia. Which means we have to celebrate. But first, I’m worried about your cough. Wait a minute, I have a home remedy.”“From which home?”She laughed, “Casa Mia, of course.” She indicated the storeroom and joined me there with a small vial. “Drink it quickly. Hold your nose. It’s pretty nasty, actually.”It burned going down and the aftertaste was redolent of skunks and swamps, but it settled warmly in my chest and belly and seemed to radiate to other places, especially my loins. She watched my eyes as I stared at the ruby on her chest and said, “There, that will keep you until you go to bed.”After another minute of watching my face closely, she said, “Good, now the celebratory wine.” She opened the bottle and poured each of us a large glass, and she raised her glass and said something intriguing in what I took to be Greek. I raised my glass in return and said, “To the most beautiful boss in the world.”“To my devoted employee and new friend,” she replied as she took a sip, watching me as I sipped mine.I replied, “To an intoxicating woman.”She said nothing and simply watched. I suddenly felt a little faint and she said, “Here, let me help you to the couch.” She lifted me by the arm with one hand and grabbed the bottle of wine and her glass with the other, and I sat down and leaned back.“The remedy can make you a little woozy at first.” The Anadolu yakası escort bayan wooziness in my belly was the least of my problems; I had trouble sitting so as to hide my reaction six inches lower, until I stopped thinking about it as I stared at the ruby and her cleavage.She smiled, “Much more comfortable now, I see.”“No wooziness.”“That too.”I took another sip of wine as she refilled her glass, and as she leaned around to set the bottle back on the floor I saw her blouse was halfway unbuttoned. She turned back around and sat there staring at me with her arms wrapped under her bust, pushing her breasts up so that the necklace rested on them.I finally tore away from the ruby and stared into her eyes, and her eyebrow lifted slightly as she said, “You seem fascinated by my necklace.”“It’s…beguiling.”“Yes, my husband loved it. He found it bewitching. He said it was at the perfect height. The perfect setting for such a jewel. Don’t you agree?”I nodded and stared back down and she said, “Here, look closely. It’s quite a work of art.” She leaned toward me and took my hand in hers, lifting it to a mere inch from her breasts, and put the ruby in my hand. I leaned in closer to only a few inches from her and stared at the ruby and the light olive of the skin beyond it, the top of her brassiere in view. She smiled slightly and said, “I rarely wear it. It draws too much attention.” She pulled my hand down to rest within her cleavage and added, “From the wrong men.”The back of my hand rested against her chest, the palm enveloped by the softness of her breasts, and I felt her heart beating strongly and slowly against my hand. She pulled my other hand to her right breast and leaned in to kiss me. Her mouth devoured mine as I eagerly explored her breasts, her soft body resting against me, her heart beating faster. She pulled away to look into my eyes and asked, “Have you ever been drained? Fully and completely drained in four hours of pure bliss? Every last drop and every last desire emptied out of you into a woman’s body so ravenous for you that you pass out at the end from your very soul entering her?”“No.”“You will.”“Have you?”She smiled, “Not recently.”We soon had her topless and she held my head to her as I suckled at one erect nipple, then the other. Her skin was flawless and taut apart from the sag of her breasts, which filled my hands and mouth. She whispered, “We’ve both wanted this for so long. Don’t stop.”Soon I felt her hips circling and her breath trembling as she sat hard and happy on my erection, her thighs on each side of my waist as she held my mouth in place. I felt her reach down to caress my waist, then she stood up long enough to slide her jeans and panties off. Her thighs were thick and taut, the thick triangle at the top as jet black as much of the hair on her head, and when she rose above me to pull my pants down, her scent seemed to fill the room, a sweet odor superimposed on the aroma I knew of a woman’s sex.She settled herself easily onto me, taking me fully into her in one slow downbeat. She knew exactly which rhythm she wanted and settled into it, the squishing of her fluids deafening in my ears, and she said, “The best thing about my love philter is that it helps you last so long and recover immediately. Besides being very very good for coughs.”I laughed in surprise as she smiled down at me, and she said, “I so rarely choose a man. Don’t worry, it’s not really a love philter. I left out those ingredients. Your heart is your own, but our bodies are each other’s now.”We moved quickly as she watched me happily, owning my body and knowing how flawlessly beautiful I found her. She rode me with her hands on my shoulders, my hands roaming and exploring her body. Her hips were wide and soft, her waist thick and muscular, and her belly, the hottest, wettest, and tightest I had ever experienced, received me with each thrust she made on me. Finally, after fifteen minutes she flushed and sped up to almost superhuman intensity. She stared into my eyes as she clamped down on me painfully, allowing me to watch her passion in her eyes for the first ten seconds until my own climax swept over me and into her. Even though it was the most intense orgasm I had yet had, hers continued for another minute after my last spasm made me slam hard into her as if burying myself.“It’s been a few years,” she whispered as we lay in each other’s arms. “I’m glad you’re here for me. Come, let me show you my bedroom.” We picked up our clothes and she got the wine, and as she walked up the stairs in the back to her apartment over the shop, her wide ass aroused me to new passion. At the top, she looked down at my crotch, slick with our juices and throbbing for more, and said, “Yes, that’s half my income, that.” She opened the door and once I was inside I immediately pushed her against the wall, lifted her so her left leg circled my waist, and heard her squeal as I thrust resurgently into her. She climaxed twice in ten minutes as I took her vigorously and remorselessly, the lust I had built up for her over the past month finally finding an outlet into something more inviting than a handkerchief. I soon bellowed as I launched my seed into her again, her squat little body matching every lust-drenched thrust of my own, her scream more deafening than my own.I pulled out long enough for her to lead me to her bedroom, and in the dark, she received me again as I plunged into her. “See, I do masterful work,” she moaned as I plowed her deeply, knowing nothing but the softness of her body and the tightness of her cunt as I lost myself inside her, my body on fire with finally knowing her fully. She sang in another climax that pushed me over the edge, and finally I rolled off her and softened slightly.“I promised I’d drain you,” she said proudly. “You’re not even halfway there. You will never forget this night. You will never forget me. Nor will I.”She turned on her bedside lamp and said, “I know what a man like you wants. I want it too.” She pulled a tube from under the mattress and lubed my newly hard cock, then her breasts, then her fingers, and as she worked two fingers inside me she said, “Use them like I use you.” As I thrust up between her breasts, her fingers rammed hard inside me, driving Escort Kurtköy me to greater efforts into her all-enveloping breasts. The ruby twinkled in the light as it jumped with each thrust on its silver chain, the head of my cock just visible at the end of the stroke deep in her cleavage, her fingertips caressing my prostate as I stared at my dream coming true. Her other hand caressed my face as I sweated with my efforts, and when I started to thrust blindly, she said, “Give your strega your tribute. Show me how bewitching I am. Coat them with your lust.”With a sudden pressure, she rubbed my prostate, and with a scream I shot hot and thick onto her neck and chin and up to her hair. Her eyes opened wide and she grinned as stream after stream landed on her chin, then her neck, then simply launched all over her breasts. Afterwards, my cream dribbled slowly down her cleavage onto her belly as we both stared at my explosion. She finally let my cock spring free from her breasts and winked. “Still hard?!?”I pushed her onto her back and crouched above her mouth. I spread her thighs and dove deep into the thickly forested grotto I had explored with my cock as she opened her mouth wide and took me inside. I sucked greedily as I breathed in her odd mixture of ocean and floral scents and felt her swallow my seed twice as she climaxed three times against my face.Winded, she pushed me off and said, “You’re probably nearly drained now. I know what will turn that trick.” She handed me the tube and said, “Turnabout is only fair. I like it rough at the very end, but slow till then.” With those words I came erect one last time and smiled as she rolled over, my dried cum still coating her. I lifted her hips and in a sense of unreality prepared her for my entry. As I entered her the unreality was replaced by a feeling of pure existence in the moment, the last part of her body opened fully to me and fully welcoming me inside. I was soon inside her to the full and she bucked up against me as I pulled out and thrust home again, and again, and again.I lasted ten minutes and might have lasted longer but for the intensity of her third climax. My last secret fantasy finally coming true, my lover screaming in evident pleasure to keep taking her up the ass, her dirty language stoking my fire to the utmost, I felt her tighten around me as she screamed at the top of her lungs, and it seemed that my soul entered her body and hers entered mine as I drained the last drops of my seed inside her and passed out just as she herself collapsed in unconsciousness.I came to an hour later and shook her; she looked at me groggily and smiled, “I’m glad you’re here.”“I’ll stay as long as you want.”“Let’s wash up and sleep.” When we returned to bed she lay happily spooned in my arms. I held a breast for a while before reaching down to cup her crotch and she chuckled, “Don’t worry, it’s not going anywhere.” A few hours later I woke briefly in the pre-dawn, lying happily in her arms as she spooned me, and fell asleep again in complete satisfaction. I awoke alone at eight. I smelled coffee and heard puttering with pots and pans and smiled. I sat up and looked around. I walked to her mirror and looked at myself. I wasn’t emaciated, no matter how much I felt like it. I saw her driver’s license in the center of her make-up area. For a second I hesitated, then I looked closely. Height, 5′2″…yes, that felt right; I remembered with complete satisfaction how thoroughly I had covered her as her body had received me so many ways and so many times. Weight…130 pounds. A perfect weight it seemed. Date of birth…I stared. I heard a noise and saw her smiling at me in a beautiful blue silk robe.“I knew you’d want to know. It saves me feeling old by telling you.”I smiled back. “It doesn’t bother me.”“I’m younger than your grandmother, I hope.”“Which one?”She laughed a little abashedly and I smiled. “My mother’s side of the family has them young. My father’s side has them old.”She laughed, “Well, I don’t have to worry about you marrying me for my social security money for another three years at least.” We laughed and she added, “Oddly enough, the women in my family always have children when they’re twenty-one…”I handed her the license and said, “But this doesn’t have the most important information.”“Oh?” She saw me glance curiously down her silk-clad body and she smiled. “Young men and their conquests. 38, 34, 42. Sometimes 40.”“And…”She smiled again, “C-cup.”“Perfect.”“Are you still drained?”“Yes.”“So am I. It’s always like that the next day.”“You’re still the most beautiful woman in the world.”“My charms still captivate you! Our libidos will recover after a day or so. So now we get to talk. Thank God we open at noon today.”“And we’re closed tomorrow.”She grinned and nodded happily. “Oh, I’ll probably be open all day and all night. Taking massive deliveries, you know. In and out, in and out. I’m glad I have my new assistant to do all that work for me.”She came up to me and settled in my arms. “I’ll set you free when you go back to school, but until then you’re all mine. I have a very dirty mind, and I haven’t used it for far too long.”After a long kiss, we went to the table for breakfast. “So tell me,” she asked, “Why were you so taken with me from the instant you saw me?”I grinned, “Mi piacciono italiane.”“Perchè?”“My first was Italian…Italian-American. And after that, so was the second…and the fourth…and the fifth.”“And the sixth?”“Oh, she was half-Greek, doncha know. Older woman, utterly bewitching.”“She sounds dangerous.”“I’m sure she could be.”She smiled happily and poured us more coffee. After a pause, she asked cavalierly, “So which was Giuseppina Cacciato?”I marveled and finally said, “Number four.” After another pause, “That must have been an information-packed telephone call.”She shrugged, “Chiara felt guilty for firing you after finding you fucking her daughter. Begged me to hire you. Mostly, I think, after seeing the guys she took up with after you said ciao. She, of course, will never let you see Giuseppina again until she’s been married off, but she still felt guilty.”“That makes absolutely no damn sense.”She shrugged, “Darling, I gave up trying to understand what goes on in that woman’s head years ago. She worships virginity, but then once Maltepe escort a woman’s married, it seems anything goes. She buys a potion like I used on you the day after Tony goes out of town and comes in two days later walking funny, telling me all the details as if she was the first woman to do them, thanks me for the perfect weekend, and buys another one for when Tony gets back. But until a woman’s husband extracts the cork of her virginity on their wedding night, that vintage stays bottled. She’s still pissed about Giuseppina being…uncorked. Chiara’s Italian—she should know wine needs to breathe before you drink it.”We laughed and she continued, “And the men she goes for! Darling, it’s no surprise she never noticed your charms until Giuseppina brought them to her attention. That woman only has taste in her mouth. I hope you got to sample Giuseppina fully before being banned from the vineyard.”“It was probably our tenth time, so yes, we were very good friends by then…Darling.” She smiled and I added, “I like being your darling.”She shrugged, “You’re my darling, my dear, my joy, my bedmate, everything but my dearest. He’s gone.” She got up and served us our plates. “Now eat up. You need to restore your strength for tonight.” She smiled, “I’m glad you have such a weakness for us. For me.”“Yes, it’s like a hook set in the deep reaches of my mind. I saw you that first day and nearly bent you over the counter for an hour.”“You’ll get to.” The rest of the summer passed in a feverish blur of coupling and work. Every night she welcomed me repeatedly inside her, and twice a week she put the lube out on the bedside table. After we had used each other to repletion one night, I asked her, “Were you always like this?”She thought. “Having a man inside me? Yes, after I learned about it. I started late, seventeen, almost eighteen. The other ways of pleasure with a man I learned with my husband. It was my gift to him that soon became my gift to both of us. He’d never had a woman…well, in the other two ways, so it was a series of blessed discoveries for both of us. We had a good twelve years together. I can never replace him, but at least I can satisfy my body.”“And help others…”“True.”“Are you really a strega?”“Oh, who knows? I don’t even know if the philters do anything but bring to the surface what people want anyway. They let women let themselves go completely, give themselves fully to their men, act out what they always wanted without feeling guilt for deciding it consciously. I don’t need them once I choose. I take what I want.”“But you…”“Had a pessary in me? Yes, it was part of the ceremony. I love the way men react when they smell it.”“Like nutmeg, in a way.”“And other scents, floral and musky.” She laughed, “Yes, my own special potpourri just for that special man.”“But it doesn’t do anything?”“I doubt it. Apart from the promise I make by applying it. Like we’re both being entranced.”“Well, they both worked wonders on me.”“You’d have done me anyway.”“But not like that.”She smiled obscurely. “Perhaps not. Men are so suggestible.”We laughed and soon fell asleep. I looked at the clock above the door. We had ten more minutes before I had to leave, so I sped up. My hips slammed hard against Giulia’s ass as my quickened rhythm pushed her over the edge. She squeezed down on me and with a rush, my final orgasm flooded out of me and into her. I held her as I softened in her, cupping her breasts overflowing my hands, and she panted as we caught our breath.After a minute she pulled away and said, “One moment.” She returned with a glass of water and watched as I drank it. “There, now you’re free.”“Until next summer?”She shrugged. “Time marches on. Find yourself a good woman your own age. She doesn’t even have to be Italian.”“After you, she probably will be.”“You could do worse.”She hugged and kissed me and whispered, “Take care of yourself. If you need it, you’ll have a job here next summer, even if nothing else can happen.”We kissed a last time and she unlocked the door and turned the sign. I stood outside as she raised the blinds, and we waved good-bye as friends, nothing more. I turned to walk away and saw a middle-aged woman of solidly Italianate appearance watching me curiously with one raised eyebrow as she stood waiting for someplace to open; she looked away after a second and I rushed off to the bus station. Life restarted at school and the semester passed quickly. I returned home for a short end-of-autumn break, five days that I would spend quietly in my mother’s house, as she was headed out of town for what she called a meeting that I suspected from the lilt in her voice was strictly with the body of some new man. The first day I rested, and the second day I got up early to spend all around town. After an early breakfast, I passed time in a renovated zone, enjoying the ambiance of hypermodern construction with, no doubt, property values to give one a nosebleed, and wandered off to the larger museum of our fine burg. I preferred the smaller one with the model dinosaurs and the planets and the bugs in jars, but I’d seen them all a hundred times.I was closely examining a painting of what seemed to be an alien invader passing poorly as human when a door opened from the offices and a familiar face appeared. At sea, I tried to place her; jet black hair in braids wrapped around the ears in what I thought of as a vaguely Roman do, shining brown eyes, full red lips, thick neck, round face, and solid figure inside a red sweater, plaid skirt, and black hose, but there was no need to puzzle my brain. She stopped when she saw me, smiled in astonishment, and turned to face me, staring into my eyes the whole time. I focused all my attention on her and faced her squarely. After a few seconds she smiled as I walked up to her, and when I came close she said, “Hi.”“Hello.”“The Casa Strega boy.”A-ha! “No longer. As of the moment you saw me, in fact.”Her lips pursed and her head tilted as she looked up at me. She seemed at a loss for words for a moment, then said, “I am in dire need of good coffee.”“A crucial part of a day.”“Come with?”“Gladly.” I had never been so glad to ditch a $10 ticket, and as I took a quick glance around the gallery I knew I was missing nothing. We strolled out the door as I asked, “Do you work here?”She laughed, “Thank God, no. I had to check the library for some information about a show I’m thinking of organizing.”“Quite the mover and shaker!”“So many men say,” she smiled with a twinkle in her eye, and I thought of nothing to say. She said with a grin, “They love my dancing.” After a second she went for the kill, “Both vertical and horizontal.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32