When in Rome

This is my first submission to Literotica, comments are welcome and encouraged!

--

He was going to be late again. He watched as the tram that usually took him to campus every morning departed. He'd have to wait for the next one. Luckily it seemed Italian public transport was pretty consistent, at least better than in the States. But it was just another thing to get used to for his semester abroad.

College life had been relatively uneventful for the most part so far. He'd had the same girlfriend since high school, so there were no disastrous attempts at dating, no drunken parties, and no awkward one-night-stands. It was in all honesty, too uneventful, and both him and his girlfriend had agreed in the airport that things had run their course. There was no point in waiting around for months to continue something that neither of them were particularly enjoying. It was a bittersweet goodbye, but oddly relieving. Though neither of them would have said it, the passion had been gone long before they decided to call it off.

Now here he was in Rome, all the newfound freedom in the world. Or at least all the freedom that you can get with a transport pass. And, he reminded himself, the transport schedule might be necessary as well. After another fifteen minute wait, he sat down on the trolley that took him to school every morning, opening his phone. He was doing the mental math of just how late he would arrive when a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"

Scusa

?"

"Hm?" He looked up from his phone.

"

Vabbé se mi siedo qui

?"

A striking young woman was standing in front of him. Her short black hair contrasted against her pale skin, with piercing light green eyes. She had high cheekbones, soft full lips, and an aquiline nose that was strong without dominating her face. Overall she struck a balance of softness and boldness that was almost understated, which made her frankly gorgeous.

So gorgeous in fact, that he almost didn't realize she had asked for the seat next to him. With a quick glance around he saw that all the other seats on the tram had been taken.

"Ah,

si

," he said.

He hoped she hadn't caught on as to why it took him just a little too long to answer her, but he reasoned that someone who looked like her might be used to it. Reassuringly, she didn't seem to notice his brief moment of infatuation, or at least didn't make it known. She sat calmly next to him for the rest of the ride, occupied by a book. He, on the other hand, was trying his best not to appear as fidgety as he felt. I need to get it together, he thought to himself, so overwhelmed by a simple interaction with a pretty lady.

--

That night the tram was absolutely packed. This was not unusual, Roman public transport was notoriously overwhelmed. So he braced himself for the crowd and held the overhead bar.

As the stops progressed and more people streamed into the car it got tighter and tighter, until someone decided to shove, setting off a small ripple of human dominos. Somebody suddenly thudded into his chest, and as he recovered from his disorientation he heard a familiar voice.

"

Oddio, scusa...

" followed by muttering what were either apologies to him or curses to the other passengers.

Oh my god. It was her again, standing only inches away from him. Her head turned to face him and suddenly he had locked into a gaze with those piercing green eyes.

For a few moments, neither moved. They just stared into each other in stunned silence, and his thoughts raced. She had to be able to see how nervous he was, right? Was he being weird?

"...

ti ricordo

," she said quietly, "

da stamattina, no

?"

A beat passed. Her brow furrowed slightly.

"Uh, I thought you speak Italian?" she said cautiously, in thickly accented English. Oh god, he had short circuited.

He finally spoke, "Oh,

scusa

, eh,

si lo parlo, ma, io appena

... em," he stuttered.

Now he was really crashing and burning. He wouldn't have had the courage to tell her in English that he had been stunned by such a beautiful woman, what was he supposed to say in Italian? She laughed lightly and he could feel himself turning redder with embarrassment.

"

Vabbé

, I can speak English if you want," she said. "I should practice anyway." She had a smooth voice, pleasing yet confident and firm. Jesus, even her voice was beautiful.

"You're the one I saw this morning, no? The boy who let me sit next to him."

"Ah yeah, that was me," he said. He didn't really know what else to say, with them standing so close together. Just being in her proximity seemed to make him a little stupider.

"Yes, you looked familiar," she said.

"Yeah, you too. I definitely recognized you too."

They both nodded with polite smiles, and then diverted their eyes for a bit. Another awkward silence. It was hard to think straight only inches from each other's faces. The situation would be intimate with any stranger, but with one he found so attractive...

She turned back to him. "You are American, yes?" she asked.

"What?" he said, caught a little off guard. "How do you..."

"It is easy to tell by the accent," she said with another slight laugh. "The British tourists always sound a little funny, but I think the Americans sound..." she hesitated a second, suddenly second-guessing the choice of words she had arrived at.

"Sexy."

He could see in her face she wasn't quite confident in her decision to say that. Her pale cheeks were now tinted pink. She looked away from him again.

"Oh," he said, trying to bring back the conversation to soften her embarrassment. "That, that's interesting, I never thought about what my 'accent' would sound like to other people. You never really think of the way you speak as having an accent, y'know?"

She turned her head back to him, relieved for his ignoring her faux pas.

"Yes, exactly," she smiled.

For the rest of the ride, their standing so close together was no longer so uncomfortable.

--

He saw her again the next morning, as she approached him with a friendly "

ciao

". They began to get to know one another, at least on a surface level. They enjoyed each other's company, and he found himself looking forward to his little commute to see her again. But something about the way she looked at him stuck with him. Her visage was always subtly focused, as if she were calculating something. He got the impression she was partially occupied, thinking about far more than she let on.

Until one day, during their usual commute, she suddenly rose from her seat with purpose in her movement. She stood by the door to the tram.

"Your stop is next, yes?" she asked him.

"Wait, did I..." he began. He looked out the window of the tram, it was easy enough to lose your surroundings in conversation. But no, he hadn't gotten close to his apartment yet.

They'd taken this ride together more than a few times, she had to have known he was on for a few more. Or, he guessed she wouldn't, because she always got off before him... at this stop.

He turned to her, and could see the calculations on her face. She had a look of feigned innocence, plausible deniability. A hint of a smile she was trying to hide, and if you looked closely enough just a touch of nerves. She was watching him intently. This was a test.

"Oh, yeah look at that", he said, trying to play it off coolly, "You're right." He could see now that hint of a smile peeking through stronger. He had chosen the right answer. Is this what he was doing? He decided to drive it home.

"I can't believe I almost missed that," he added on as he stood and walked over to her, soaking his tone in that playful air of tongue-in-cheek aloofness. Her hint of a smile grew into a full smirk. He stood in front of her and they were once again close, so close, both testing their limits face to face. Yet they held firm with their stares, pushing just a little farther into that space that was at once vulnerable and exhilarating.

"Yeah, you should really be more careful", she threw back, matching his act with her own sarcastic reprehension.

Candidly, he had no idea where this was supposed to lead. He had no idea if he was prepared for whatever she had planned, but when he let his desires come to the front of his mind, he knew that he wanted to find out.

He followed her lead off the tram, and stepped into a new neighborhood. Under pretty much any other circumstance this probably would have made him nervous, but in her company it was exciting instead.

For a while he trailed behind her on the sidewalk in unspoken tension. Until he broke the silence:

"So, where are we headed again?"

She turned her head behind to show she was listening.

"I mean, I almost missed my stop, so I guess I'm just a little disoriented today," he continued.

She stopped walking and spun around, rolling her eyes jokingly.

"Ah yes, your memory is really awful today. Well you are always talking about how you want to explore the city, so I'm showing you the best coffee in Roma, remember?" exaggerating the final word sarcastically. Then she paused and her face changed, a little more genuine and shy. "I hope you didn't have any other plans?" she asked.

"No, not at all," he reassured her. Admittedly, there was very little in the world he wouldn't have canceled to be doing what he was now.

"Good," she said, her confidence returned.

--

The coffee bar was small and cozy, the type of place that was populated by locals, where the barista remembered you after a visit or two. Being as he was already in foreign territory, he let her lead the way a bit. She spoke to the barista and he handed her two

maritozzi

, cream-filled brioche pastries. Luckily his grasp on the Italian language was strong enough that he was able to pay for them without interruption. She took the pastries and set them down at one of the very few small tables, sitting across from him.

"These are my favorites," she told him. "Here, try, I'm sure you haven't had these."

She was right, he hadn't, so he took a bite. Oh wow, she wasn't lying, these were good. The dough was fluffy, and the cream had the taste of vanilla and light citrus. For a minute they both just enjoyed their pastries, and he had almost forgotten the mood that had been set just before.

"Wait a second," he began, wiping some powdered sugar and cream from the edges of his mouth, "I thought you said this was the best coffee in Rome? These are delicious, don't get me wrong, but shouldn't we get some coffee too?"

She smiled. "Well, the coffee here is quite good, and I do like this bar, but I prefer the coffee upstairs."

"Upstairs?"

"Yes, upstairs. Part of why I like this bar so much is because it is right outside my apartment." She locked her gaze onto him again. Her plans were all falling into place. "Well, would you like some coffee? I promise it isn't far."

At this point, it seemed they both firmly understood what she was saying without saying it.

"Of course, that sounds fantastic," he replied.

As they made their way to her apartment the air between them seemed to crackle. They were standing very close again, with no hesitancy left. His mind still raced. There was no way he could be misreading this now, right? She unlocked the door and let him in. A comfortable, if admittedly a bit small, one bedroom apartment.

She gestured for him to take a seat in the kitchen as she placed down her keys, then began shuffling through the cabinets.

"You know," she said, pulling a moka pot from the cabinet and setting it on the stove, "if you'd like, there is something else we could do, before coffee." She turned back to him. There was no mistaking it now, but he was still cautious.

"Oh yeah?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "What would that be?"

She stalked her way closer to him. Slowly, purposefully. His chair was turned towards her, and she was standing directly above him now, her body daringly close to his body again. She bathed in the moments that passed between them, choosing her next words carefully.

"I feel like..." she began, "you must know what I mean by now."

He smiled. The line was finally crossed.

"I think I do," he said, raising a hand to pull her face towards his. Their lips met, and they began to make out. She stepped forward more and herself onto his lap, her legs straddling the sides of the chair. They rhythmically swayed with their bodies and mouths, each finally giving way to the desire that had been boiling underneath.

Her hands rested on his collar and the back of his head. One of his hands was still placed on her face, while the other explored. He trailed down her back, arching her body as she pressed into his lap, then traced around to tease her torso beneath her breasts.

She pulled back, panting and with her hands still on him. She stared, and those beautiful bright eyes were piercing straight through him now. She pulled his head close to hers, still slowly rising and falling into the pressure that had now built in his lap, and when her mouth was nearly touching his ear she spoke confidently, desperately:

"Fuck me."

If there was any doubt somehow still left in his mind, it had melted away into arousal when he heard those words. He stood, careful not to drop her on the floor, and she led him to the bedroom as they both buzzed with anticipation.

Once they arrived at the bedroom, both of his hands grabbed her firmly by the waist, and pulled her back into their passionate kissing. They each leaned and pressed their hips into the other, and his hands slid down slightly to grip her ass. He moved one hand all the way up to lean her head backwards as he began to tease and kiss her neck, working his way down to her collarbone.

He stepped forward, guiding her to sit on the edge of the bed. She slid up out of her pants, revealing thin black panties that were already sheer with arousal. He kneeled on the ground at the foot of the bed and slid them slowly down her legs.

He lunged forward with his mouth open, pressing flat the full width of his tongue to envelop as much of her at once as he could. She gasped. He relented suddenly and inhaled gently, curving his lips to graze teasingly over her clitoris as he moved his head lower. His tongue traced along her labia, leading upward, but intermittently paused for him to gingerly suck instead, collecting saliva in his mouth for him to then layer back onto her waiting entrance. All the while his hand was wrapped around her upper thigh, squeezing and gauging the tension of her legs attempting to push together as measure of her satisfaction.

Meanwhile, she had stationed one hand absentmindedly over her mouth, attempting to cover her gasps that gave way to moans in case one suddenly escaped her louder than she wanted it to. Her other hand wandered, sliding under her shirt and bra to massage her breasts.

This continued until his trailing tongue finally returned to her clitoris, at first inquisitively prodding, then licking in heavy, rhythmic strokes. The hand previously covering her mouth jumped to the top of his head, running her fingers through his hair and holding him closer. She was no longer inhibited by the sounds she made, and he could hear her muttering in sync with his tongue:

"...please...pleease...pleassse...yes...y-yyes...yes...please..."

Soon her words were muffled as her legs shuttered together around his head, her soft thighs quieting all noise for a moment except for the rushing blood of her racing heartbeat. He could feel her tensing, so he cemented his pace, lapping and pushing relentlessly, just the right way until-

Her legs tightened more and became still. The hand she had rested on his scalp froze. Even under the muffled beating of her heart he could sense her breathing stop, and she tensed her entire body. For a few heartbeats he simply basked in the fortune of his circumstances, squeezed between the legs of a beautiful woman. Her sweet nectar flowed gently into his mouth, coating his tongue. Her legs released slowly, and he could hear a quiet sigh of relief escaping her lips.

With the hand she had resting on his head, she guided him up to kneeling over her on the bed. For a second they both just beheld the other.

"That was amazing," she said. She pulled him in, and held him in a long kiss. "But, I hope you are not... done already?"

"Of course not," he grinned, as he leaned in and kissed her again.

"Good. You haven't even taken your pants off yet," she teased.

"Well maybe we should fix that."

He leaned back to kneel upright, lifting his shirt off. She removed her shirt and bra as well, revealing small breasts capped with puffy nipples that were alert with lust. She then leaned forward to sit upright and undid his belt. She looked up at him with a mischievous smile as she pulled down his pants. This whole affair had made him harder than he had ever remembered being, and he strained desperately against his underwear.

As she hooked her fingers into his waistband and pulled it down, her eyes widened slightly with a mixture of surprise, excitement, and a little apprehension.

"Oh..." she said. "You have...a lot to work with." In truth, he didn't think he had anything truly exceptional, but he had gotten enough comments to understand he was at least a little gifted in his endowments. He definitely didn't mind the confidence it brought him.

"Oh yeah?" he teased. He decided to lean into her compliment. "You think you're gonna be able to handle it all?"

She reclined back onto the bed, that look of bold, daring mischief returning to her face.

"I want you to give me everything you have."

His heart fluttered. In that moment he was suddenly aware that he could not believe the situation he had somehow found himself in. Here he was, kneeling above the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, her entire body lithe and smooth, achingly awaiting his touch.

He needed her.

Now.

He positioned his knees so as to lower his pelvis on top of hers, and put his arms down to lean forward above her. He pressed his weight into her mound, teasing her with the pressure without entering her. He continued this, building a rhythm of pleasure and denial, building momentum, until neither of them could take it anymore.

His hand positioned his cock as he slid just its beginning into her. They both gasped. She was overflowing with wet arousal. He patiently pushed into her more and more, watching her beautiful face as it was gradually overcome with pleasure. Her eyebrows raised together, her mouth dropped gently open in a breathy moan, and he continued to bury his length in the wet, warm velvet of her body. As he bottomed out with a sudden jerk, her head jumped slightly backwards in a mixture of pleasure and surprise. She had asked for everything he had, and he would give it to her.

He then began to laboriously pull out of her, savoring every sensation. The air was cold on his member now that it had been soaked in her passion. He intended for them both to feel it all. Each of his motions in and out of her body were almost torturously intentional, and they both grew hot with growing anticipation.

One of her hands impatiently caressed her sensitive breast. She rocked back and forth with him, chasing his body with her own. Her other hand found its way to just above her entrance, where she massaged and teased herself further. He started to increase his pace, and their moans and exclamations grew louder and more overt. He did not only increase in speed but importantly also in force, creating lewd, wet slaps.

Now they had arrived at a rhythm that would push to the precipice of being completely overwhelmed, but it was steady instead of frantic. Her hands were wildly grasping for something to either bring her back to sanity or drive her further from it. She was unsure whether to grip the sheets tightly or desperately grab at her breasts, unsure whether to cover her mouth, unsure if she cared if her neighbors heard her, how could she care when she could think of nothing else, feel nothing else but this. Her hands decided on embracing him, pulling him ever closer to her into another passionate, loving kiss. Everything, everything! She had asked for everything and now they were both giving everything. Everything in the world was only what was here and now.