Page 15 of Paolo DeLuca
Lyric turned the ignition, then turned it again. It took three tries before the damn thing roared to life. Her 1968 Ford GTO might be a classic, but it was also a piece of shit. She needed a new car, but her money situation didn’t afford her one.
“One day,” Lyric sighed, pulling away from the gallery.
She had just enough time to get lunch and then head home for a much-needed nap. Her middle-of-the-night painting session wiped her out more than she realized. Settling on picking something up quick and easy, Lyric pulled into her favorite drive-thru, then headed home. Before she reached her place, her food was gone, and the nap she looked forward to was just on the horizon. She greeted the old man who owned the café and sluggishly headed to the elevator. She wouldn't be taking the stairs for the second time in two days. As soon as she unlocked her studio apartment door, she felt sleep trying to overtake her. It didn’t take long before she was snuggling under the covers of her bed with visions of passion floating in her dreams.
“Oh, that feels so good,” she moaned as her body relaxed under his ministrations. “I needed this.”
The masseuse worked his hands into the deep tissues of her shoulder blades, then moved further down to the small of her back. Lyric’s eyes fluttered closed. The masseuse quickly glided over her ass and moved to her thighs. First the outer and then the inner. Lyric adjusted her legs, opening them slightly so he could get his hands between her thighs more easily and work her inner muscles. The right leg, then the left, working his way upward. So much so that he grazed her pussy. Lyric jumped. The intimate touch was unexpected. Just as quickly, he worked down her thigh and then to her calf muscles.
Lyric groaned. He’d moved to her feet, then gently laid them back down and worked up her opposite leg once again. This time, Lyric anticipated the grazing of her privates. Her body tensed anyway.
“You’re so wet,” he observed.
Lyric quickly raised on her elbows, turning to face the man. She knew that voice. “Mr. DeLuca! What are you doing here?”
“Hoping you’ll let me taste that sweet pussy of yours,” he answered. He was right. She was wet. The raunchy words from his mouth made her even more so; she wanted him to taste.
Lyric worried her bottom lip, trying to decide what to do. She’d wanted this man from the beginning, but before she could accept or decline, Mr. DeLuca advanced on her, grabbing the back of her neck and diving in, plastering their lips together. Lyric froze in astonishment as Mr. DeLuca licked the seam of her lips, asking for permission. Finally, with a moan, Lyric gave in, opening to him.
He rubbed her inner thigh, coaxing her legs wider so he could have access to her treasure. Lyric rocked forward when his fingers played at her entrance.
“You ready?” he crooned.
“Yes,” she answered as he pushed two fingers inside her.
Mr. DeLuca set a steady pace, and Lyric thrust her hips with every ministration until the tingling started at the top of her head.
“I’m so close,” she moaned.
Just then, his head dipped between her legs, and he took a long lick at her clit; that was all she needed. Lyric clutched the back of his head and pulled him closer as she rode out her orgasm. When the waves subsided, she let his head go.
“Good girl, il mio cuore batte,” he praised, slowly licking every drop of her passion off his lips.
Lyric jerked awake from her dream, dripping in sweat and so horny; if she rubbed her thighs together, it wouldn’t quell the heat, but it would make her come.
“That dream was so damn real,” she mumbled.
In the dream, she was in Mr. DeLuca’s office, like the night before. Her chest heaved, and her heart beat rapidly like it did when she thought he was about to kiss her. In hindsight, she wished she would have been bold enough to grasp the back of his neck and pull him to her. By the mere inches he was from her lips, she could have if she wanted to. Who the fuck was she kidding; she did want to.
“Ohh, this is bad,” she whined as she tried so hard to make the sensation of Paolo’s body heat disappear from her memory. “How the hell am I supposed to work for him?”
The answer was that she couldn’t. She couldn’t work there and still be attracted to him. There was only one thing left for her to do. Lyric needed to quit her job, but how would she do it?
