The Payment. (Part 2)

The Payment.

Part 2.

I took a shower, I found a small black and white striped dressing gown in the closet. I pulled the dirty sheets off the bed and went to find the laundry. I walked into the kitchen, carrying the sheets, when I heard the door open. I thought Talia was back.

A little old lady walked in with her arm wrapped around a bag of groceries. “What are you doing here?” She asked.

“Talia brought me here yesterday,” I quickly replied.

The little old lady dropped the bag on the table and shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with that girl.”

She was short, chubby wearing a flowered dress and a white apron. Her silver hair was in a bun, neatly placed on top her head, exactly how a grandmother would look. “I am Nonni, why do you have those sheets?”

I smiled at her. “I’m Juliet. I’m looking for the washer to put these in.”

Nonni pointed at the door, right of the kitchen. “In there.”

I walked back in the kitchen. “If you show me where the sheets are, I’ll make the bed.”

She walked over and took hold of my shoulders. “My God! You are so thin. When did you eat last?”

I paused for a moment. “Yesterday.”

She pulled me to the table. “Sit down! I make you a sausage and potato Frittata.”

It was the most delicious thing I ever ate. Then, she gave me a Cannoli, and that was the most delicious thing I ever ate. I turned to her. “What does Talia do? I mean, for a living.”

Nonni reached over and pinched the end of my nose. “Best you to keep your nose right there. If Talia wants you to know, she will say.”

Nonni and I got along just great, we did the laundry, made the bed and cleaned the bathroom. For lunch, she made me an Italian melt, a glass of wine and another Cannoli. We were cleaning the living room, when Talia walked in and tossed her keys on the counter. God, how I loved her in those motorcycle leathers.

Nonni waved her hand at Talia, then said some things in Italian. She went back to sweeping the floor. Talia replied, with something in Italian.

She motioned with her hand and I quickly ran to her. “How are you and Nonni getting along?”

I gave her a big smile. “She is the best cook in the world! I love her.”

Talia handed me a bottle of wine. “Pour two glasses and come to the patio.”

On the patio, were four chairs around a huge fire pit. I gave Talia her glass and sat down. “May I ask a question, Talia?”

She nodded and took a sip of wine.

“What are you going to do with me?”

She shook her head. “I think I made a huge mistake. I should have left you with Estella, and taken her money instead.”

I quickly got on my knees in front of her. “Please don’t send me away.”

I placed my hands on her legs. “I love you so much. I can make love to you every minute of the day. Please, I would die before I went back to Madam Estella.”

Talia rubbed my cheek with the back of her hand. “Go run me a bubble bath and wait for me there,”

I watched her undress in the bathroom, loving every inch of her naked body with my eyes. She pointed to the sunken tub. “Get in with me.”

I know it was a cliché, still I thought I had died and gone to heaven. I couldn’t resist her breasts, I had to wash them over and over, kissing them softly through the bubbles.

Talia was the only woman that could make me wet by just her touch. Her eyes could open the door to my soul and I would drift. To feel her exploring me, was more than I could endure. I wanted to grab her and kiss her so hard, but I didn’t dare. She enjoyed the way I shivered and moaned under her touch.

Being in bed with her was like a fairy tale dream. The orgasms were like a thousand rainbows, appearing all at once. It gave me an inner satisfaction to know I could make someone as beautiful as Talia, scream with so much pleasure. I had to convince her I was the best sex slave, for her and her alone.

That evening, we slept in her bed again. She allowed me to worship her olive tan body, again and again. With lips covered in her juices, I would kiss her over and over until my tongue was sore. I would not stop making love to her, until she had enough and pulled me away.

The next day, Talia took me out to the garage. Inside was a satin black Ferrari. Against the opposite wall, were two large racing motorcycles. On the back wall, was a long bench with several tool boxes. Talia told me to sit on a stool at the bench. She reached in her pocket, pulled her pistol out and sat it on the bench. “Do you know how to use that?”

I quickly shook my head. “No. I’m afraid of guns.”

She picked it up, released the clip, pulled it back and bullet flew out. “It’s an M9A3 Beretta. If you want to stay with me, you will learn how to use it. Understood?”

I replied without hesitation. “Yes, Talia.”

End.

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