7 Days

Day Three

We spend another eventless day on the beach. I might as well be wearing a neon sign that reads “Deprived and desperate for Carlo.” I must look pathetic. But, hey, there’s satisfaction in being horny too.

Carlo surprises me with a new dress from the apparel shop after I mention I’ve only brought the two. With a man like him, a woman doesn’t belong in anything else. The dress is beautiful and fits perfectly.

I don’t know if it’s because I’m so listless, probably from horniness, but we have a quiet dinner at the hotel, then go for another late night walk on the beach.
When Carlo pulls me back against him, I know I’m in for another ride.
“Carlo, please, you’re driving me crazy.” It’s my feeble attempt at getting what I want.
“Am I?” he says softly.
“You know you are. I can’t take it any more.”
“Shhhhh,” he hushes me, licking the tip of my ear.
His closeness alone is enough to seduce me beyond reason. I begin to moan.
He unbuttons the top of my dress while he continues to lick my ear. I was instructed not to wear anything underneath and he reaches in and cups my tit. My back arches and offers him the other one.
“You have nice full tits, baby.” He squeezes them. “They’re so womanly.” He unbuttons the dress lower and parts the top to expose them. He pinches both nipples while he torments my neck with his tongue.
When he pulls the front of my skirt up, I’m already silly putty in his arms. He knows he can do as he pleases–not that I would object if I could. Leaning against him, I close my eyes and revel in his power.

The night breeze feels good against my naked pussy, but not as good as Carlo’s fingers. He strokes gently. I don’t think it’s had a moment of dryness since meeting him.
He applies more pressure. I don’t argue. But I’ve been cut off too many times to get my hopes up. I suppose you could say I’ve been trained to enjoy whatever he offers and not expect more.
Despite no expectations, I find myself approaching orgasm. He hasn’t let me get this far before. And I’m not about to interrupt. He drives me to the edge and holds me there. Just the right stroke and I can achieve ecstasy.
“Open your eyes, Isabel.”
I do. A man stands in front of us, watching. I didn’t hear anyone, but then I’ve been lost in lust for three days. I simply moan and return to my pleasure.
“Keep your eyes open.”
It’s an order, so I do it. My attention returns to the man, but my pleasure is too great to let it go entirely.
“I want you to see him watch you,” Carlo adds.
“O’ God.”
He reduces the pressure on my clit and my body demands it back with exaggerated movements from my pelvis.
“That’s good. See his pleasure from watching you ask for it?”
My eyes lower automatically and I see the bulge in the man’s pants.
“That’s the same pleasure it gives me,” Carlo says softly.
The man’s eyes remain on me, but his hand reaches for his crotch.
“Go ahead, let him know just how badly you want me to fuck you.”
“Oh, Carlo,…” I murmur. My hand slides up his arm and hooks behind his neck.
Beyond my understanding, his deliberate humiliation of me is only making me want to worship him.
“Spread your legs.” Carlo gently pushes his foot against mine to move it. “Show him your want, baby.”
Slowly, he removes his hand from my cunt and leaves it exposed.
Suddenly there is intensification in everything–my desire, my needs, my humiliation. I could stop, but I want it all–every bit of what he’s doing to me.
I fight breathlessly to keep my eyes open while I add a squeal to my continuous squirm.
“Isabel, show him your pussy,” he whispers. “Let him see you do it for me.”
The words make me gasp with an ache. I move my feet further apart on my own accord and bend my knees to push my cunt forward.
I’ve been possessed–this can’t be me taking such pleasure in something so degrading.
Carlo keeps me suffering through it for a moment, then reaches for my clit. And suddenly, I’m coming.
Ordinarily, I scream after a lengthy frustration, but only moans come out of my mouth now. Carlo holds me tight against him and pinches my clit in the way it should be.
He doesn’t insert any fingers. I’m sure he knows without insertion, satisfaction won’t be complete, but beggars can’t be choosy and I’m grateful for this much.
“Yes, baby, he’s watching you cum,” he says, emphasizing my humiliation.
I remain aware of the man through the entire orgasm. I find myself feeding off his pleasure–the pleasure that he’s deriving from me.
His presence is so humiliating, and so emotionally satisfying. Probably more so for Carlo.
Carlo brings me through expertly–just the right touch, just the right place, just the right tapering to bring me back to my sanity.
“Thank you, Isabel,” he murmurs when I’m drained. He holds me up like a rag doll.
When I open my eyes again, the man smiles. “Just lovely,” he says in his English accent as he takes my hand and lays a kiss in the palm.
I feel like I’m being applauded for having just sung an aria. I must be staring at him blankly.
“Bloody well done,” he addresses Carlo.
Carlo is holding my skirt and me up in one arm and stroking my hair back. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“Very much so.” The man looks me in the eyes when he says this.
“Hope we haven’t caused you too much of a problem.”
I don’t know what Carlo means until the man raises his hand and looks at it, flipping it front and back.
“Nothing that I can’t handle,” he says with a smile. Then his glance moves back to Carlo. “Be seeing you, then.”
It almost rings like a question. I’m sure he’d love to be entertained by us again tomorrow night. I can’t say I would mind it either.
“Yes, be seeing you,” Carlo repeats.
The man gives him a nod and me, another smile. As he walks away, he gives us a wave good-bye.

Carlo surprises me again. He doesn’t leave me when we arrive at my room. Without a word, he leads me to the bed and removes my dress. He lets me lie in his arms and holds me. Feeling secure, I sleep. I dream about Carlo.

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