Part I
Anna had anticipated her trip to Tuscany with something akin to giddiness. She could hardly believe the time had come. She'd been dreaming of a trip to Italy for years and her dreams were now being realized. When she arrived, it was hard to believe it was real. Somehow, it was even more beautiful that she'd imagined.
It is hard not to notice that, on the streets of Florence, young foreign women far outnumber any other category of people. Women feel remarkably welcome in Tuscany and Umbria, and the stereotype of the young Italian male -- out to prove himself the most irresistible lover on the planet -- applies more to Rome and the South. Having said that, the more exotic you look to an Italian -- voluptuous redheads, statuesque blondes, ebony-skinned beauties, or simply an American accent -- the more attention you can expect to get, especially at night.
Little did Anna know how true that was. She didn't understand the feminine reaction young Italian men were used to. Italian women usually ignore the men around them entirely unless it's someone they're already walking with. Many foreign women feel far safer wandering the deserted streets of an Italian city at 2am than they do in their own neighborhoods back home.
Such was the case with Sonya, so smitten was she by the beauty around her and the welcoming charm of the locals. If forced into honesty, she would have hesitantly acknowledged, too, that the amorous attention of the young Italian males made it all the more delicious.
It was in that comfortable, pleasant mood that she entered the tavern, looking to unwind a little bit after a truly wonderful, but quite exhausting day. She had no idea that the decision to do so would change her life forever.
He was a stunning looking man and their eyes met almost immediately. She could feel his eyes following her every move and it was intoxicating. She felt like the most beautiful, sexy woman in the world. She found herself taking her time to savor the moment.
She need not have done so, as it turned out. His smoldering gaze lingered on her the rest of the night. She would shyly turn and see him turn away. She could feel his eyes burning into her skin, and feel her clothes being stripped away by his gaze. It was exciting, but also a little unnerving. Excitement won out, though, and she basked in the experience, even ensuring she leaned just a little too far forward a few times, giving him a glimpse of her cleavage.
As the night wore on, she found herself flirting back, though with a little hesitation and doing so very subtly. Experiencing all of this after such an amazing day was a little overwhelming. While she felt like she was on top of the world, she decided to call it a night. She stepped outside into the warm air of a summer evening and, without warning, her world went black.
As she began to awaken, fighting through the fog in her mind, she started to become aware of her surroundings. Not sure what to expect (in the moments before she blacked out, her imagination ran wild, everything from showing up on an auction block to waking in a dungeon had flashed through her mind), she felt a little confused as well as surprised.
She could tell she was sitting in some type of chair but it was neither hard, nor uncomfortable. In fact, in other circumstances she might quite have enjoyed sitting there. As it was, it just added to her confusion.
The other thing that she realized was that her hair was being brushed. That is not a picture that ran through her mind in those brief moments before she lost consciousness. Long, gentle strokes. She began to hear words, in a soft voice, telling her just how stunning she looked, how truly radiant. She was told how he (and it was definitely he. A deep voice, with a soft Italian accent, though his English was flawless). He described how overwhelmed he was by the stunning beauty of her long auburn hair. Her full and sensual lips. The curve of her hips. The deeply arousing way she filled out her dress. The soft fullness of her swelling breasts.
Despite the uncertainty of her surroundings, the fear she felt, she began to relax a little and (if she was being honest with herself very much enjoying the attention) enjoyed the long, soft strokes of the brush through her hair.
What the hell is wrong with you, Sonya? Don't act like you like it. You'll only encourage whatever plans he has for you, plans you have no say in.
This continued for some time, those gentle, slow strokes. The soft words of admiration, of the irresistible charm he felt and the overwhelmingly powerful desire he felt for her. Despite her situation, it was something she wanted, needed, to hear after the loneliness she'd long felt.
Suddenly, she felt the chair shift a little and felt his warm, soft lips on her neck, electricity flowing from the touch of his tongue throughout her body. Unable to help herself she felt a shiver, though she quickly tried to hide it.
Don't give in, Sonya. This is insane. You need to figure out how to get out of this situation, not enjoy it.
She felt a little more in control herself after that, then she felt his hands move down over her shoulders to her breasts, hands sliding expertly under her dress, underneath her bra. By the time his fingers reached her nipples they were already hard. "Something tells me you don't mind this too much, signorina." she heard him say in a throaty voice.
She could hear the hunger as he spoke those words but found the inner strength to respond "No, I don't. Take your hands off me. I didn't ask you to do this. I don't want you to do this."
She knew the words were false even as he spoke them but she hoped he couldn't tell, hoping he'd take her words at face value. Part of her didn't want him to stop. To ever stop, but things were spinning more out of her control and beneath the pleasure, beneath the shivering arousal he brought out in her, she was just scared enough to mean what she said.
