Repercussions - Part Eleven (A continuation of ‘The Bet’)Franco rested his spinning head

Repercussions - Part Eleven (A continuation of ‘The Bet’)Franco rested his spinning head against the roof of the Fiat. The steel felt cool in the evening air and he closed his tired eyes taking a brief moment to enjoy the silence. The day had been a whirlwind. First waking up next to Pamela, his new … lover? Wife? He did not know for sure. All he did know is that with her he was happy. With her he felt somehow complete. They had woken up in each other’s arms, making love gently, softly, naturally but with a passion and a confidence he had not known in a long time. Their pace was easy and unhurried. There was none of the desperate, insane fucking that he experienced whenever he was with Eleonora. With her it always felt like a mad race to make her cum, to drive her latest lover out of her mind before his balls gave out. Each time hoping and praying that it was his name and his cock on her mind and not some memory of the last young, hard bull that had abused her body for his own selfish pleasure. It had gotten to the point where he was certain that Eleonora did not even want to make love with him. All she wanted, all she lived for, was that feeling of complete helplessness as some nameless bastard was beating her body raw, the thrill of simply being fucked and abused, screaming as collapsed under the hot spray of some heartless and selfish stranger. Something he could never give her despite all the love he bore for her. All he could do was to hope and pray that each time she had consented to his lusts, that he could somehow compete with all the men who had taken her deeper, rougher, and harder than he ever could. That his wife and his love would cum, singing out his name in heated moans as she did theirs.There had never been with Eleonora the mornings and hours he had spent with Pamela. Lovely mornings of smiling, laughing, passionate lovemaking. Of quiet breakfasts sharing kisses as they watched the television from the bed, their legs entwined. The animated conversations of their future. Of a place in the country away from everyone where they could simply escape from the world, having just themselves for company. They had talked about her job, his fledgling business, their hopes and dreams. Of all those things they would love to see and do and experience. Places where they might make love and the silly lover’s games they might play. Of a house with so many rooms and such a view. Of soccer games and meaningless things. And more seriously and in quieter words, their mutual desire for children. Both were only-children, and both had always dreamed of large families. At least five, they had agreed; three boys, two girls. Each one the apple of their eye. Of Christmases and Easters. Of having that crowd of people around the table to love and to laugh with in their old age. Having their children and grandchildren to laugh and tease as they kissed passionately as if they were still young lovers eager to start their lives.They had fallen into each other so easily. Their lips meeting as if the two of them were drawn together by more than simple want or need. It was just so easy with Pamela. So light. As if all the troubles and cares in this world somehow fell away when he was in her presence. He found himself walking with confidence again. With pride and more importantly with direction. With Pamela he felt a certainty about the future. Even now they had embarked on a great step. It was a daring plan to be sure, but the pieces had seemed to fall into place well enough. Just days ago, before they had found each other, he would not have dared hope for any of it. He would still be the frightened little Franco, that pathetic mouse who could not please his wife. A small, weak, and desperately uncertain shell of a man who woke up each day divided against himself fearing for the next time another man’s name passed his wife’s lips. He reached down and jiggled the belt around his trousers. He had lost weight certainly. Unable to eat or sleep or tend to his business without a flash of anguish eager to burn across his mind, the thought of his wife’s insatiable need and his own broken dreams playing like dull razors across his heart. The horn from a passing truck broke him from his reverie. Ever since this last fucking plague the streets had been nearly deserted and the lack of street traffic had left the quiet little town a place of ghosts where once it was filled with late night shoppers and couples making their way to and from the piazza. All day long he had heard the complaints of vendors and merchants, their stores and their pockets empty. Most it as a disaster, as another end of the world. Yet, to a daring man, the end of the world could be an opportunity to rise with the one that took its place. Pamela had said those words to him just that morning as they shared a cappuccino in bed. Just before that lovely wicked smile returned to her face as she settled herself between his legs and ordered him to grab the head board tight. He was her Franco now, she had mumbled as she sent his pulse racing with her tongue, and it was time again to remind him of that fact. He had done as he was told, closing his eyes in anticipation, not objecting to her words in the least as she bathed his balls with her fiery tongue. Smiling at that memory, he tapped the key-ring and locked the car doors with a high-pitched chirp and turned to make his way to the front door of his apartment building. It would not be his for long, he thought, as he and Pamela had already mentioned putting it and her apartment up for rent, finding a place of their own where their children could play and neither of them had to worry about where to park their fucking cars. Once again, he thought of his friend in America and his insanely large house. They lived in mansions these fucking Americans! There was a picture on his cell phone. His friend sitting on his porch with his wife and family, eating a slice of pizza of all things, smiling and happy. The words “Waiting for your stupid Wop ass!” texted across the bottom. That was something else he and Pamela had talked about and something Eleonora never would.The keys jingled in his hand for a moment. As always, he fumbled through them trying to find the right one to fit in the first of five locks that kept the outside world at bay. For the last few nights, he and Pamela had slept together. That first night here at his apartment, the next two at hers as his own was filled with too many bitter memories. They had made plans for him to move into hers for the time being. After he had made his peace with his wife, that was. He had not seen Eleonora since the last Thursday. It had been the better part of the week and they had yet to speak, yet to straighten out the utter mess their marriage had become. He had promised himself to be strong. Not to involve himself in fruitless conversations. If there would be a conversation at all. The last he had heard of her she was on her quest for her dark prince. The tall, strutting black who had very nearly fucked her to her death the week before. Franco still remembered his own flowing tears as he had entered that shattered room and beheld his wife still trembling, covered in a lake of the bastard’s spunk. The bull’s laughter still ringing in his ears as he carried his beloved Eleonora to the shower, bathed her, cared for her… only to hear another man’s name rise from her muttering lips. He had made up his mind then and there. He was not capable of being the husband she needed. Of bearing with a smile the shame and humiliation that accompanied her sexual desires. He would end it, he had decided. Somehow. Someway. And in the best way to make such a decision, he had gotten drunk. Drunk and mad and crazy enough to toss Simone down a flight of stairs and to make love to a woman who might quite literally be the soulmate he had always dreamed of. Hell, if he were lucky Eleonora was still getting her rocks off laying at the bastard’s feet like some sort of paperback novel’s white slave girl. He had not bothered with the elevator. The thing was too slow, and he was amazingly too full of energy to wait for the damned thing. He took the third floor in so many seconds and jingled the correct key into his hand as he approached the door. He should have known from the grayish light coming from beneath the door that someone was home. Yet lost in his reverie he had barely noticed the gentle glow coming from the bedroom, or the fact that two of the living room lights had been switched on, dimly illuminating the small apartment with a soft radiance that was engineered for one purpose. Franco looked up sharply, his eyes dancing across the erotic vision which had appeared in front of him from the darkness of the adjoining bedroom. He sucked in a shallow breath as he regarded her. She was stunning. Golden locks that fell like cascading water over her shoulders, smoothing over her body like liquid fire. It shimmered as she moved towards him, a feline grin stretching her crimson lips to reveal her pearly white teeth. She was sex and beauty and desire incarnate. He let out a strained cough into his hands, trying to pull himself together in front of the goddess that decided to grace him with her presence. She moved towards him, her red dress hugging every luscious curve of her hips and breasts sending this thoughts reeling dangerously in his head.Eleonora grinned easily as Franco tried to put himself back together the best that he could, his mouth still hanging open at the sight of her. It was not so easy when she was so very close, her apple blossom perfume drifting around him, enchanting him. She laughed a soft tinkling sound that pulled him in and made him sigh. How was she doing this to him? Casting her spell so effortlessly? She reached out a delicate hand, her nails a deep scarlet that matched her lipstick. It took him a moment before he realized her intentions as she pressed her hand into his own, his large fingers engulfing hers.Franco found her smile dazzling, forcing him to shiver slightly as he felt her hand upon his, moving him effortlessly back to the bedroom. He wanted to reach out to her, feeling a strange need to hold her close to him as if she would disappear in a puff of smoke if he did not. Every move she made was a distraction. The sway of her hips, the flashing of her smooth white legs, that way her hair swept back across her bare shoulders. He had meant to talk to her, to tell her their life together was over. He had promised himself to stay strong and to… to…  how was he going to get through this, he wondered?“In her arms.” a little voice whispered into his ear, making him shiver a little as she led him by the hand. Eleonora laughed at his discomfort, her sun-kissed tresses bouncing as she did. A tiny spark of something dangerously disarming danced in her eyes as she glanced back at him. She grinned at him, delighted when she saw his eyes traveling up and down her body just as they used to do when they were young lovers. Franco’s heavy breaths and stuttering words were music to her ears, his obvious lust for her feeding her feminine pride. God, how he wanted her still, she thought happily, all of her and they hadn’t even spoken to each other yet. Franco let out a small moan, mesmerized by the way those bright green eyes trailed over him, drinking him in. He had worn his classic suit to work that day, a light charcoal-grey with a red tie to match, his nod to the coming spring season. Helplessly, he allowed her to pull him into the bedroom, to slide his tie from his neck and is jacket from his shoulders. Still utterly stunned, he let her push him back on the bed climbing up along his hips to straddle him, to slowly unbuckle his belt as she looked into his eyes with that smoldering glare. She leaned a little closer, breathing him in. She had caught his scent when she straddled his waist, but now she was absolutely reveling in it. Rich and smoky, so different and so familiar, it made her knees weak. ’Fuck me right now’ she wanted to whisper while he was shuddering nervously under her, while she was breathing in his delicious scent.“Eleonora… I… I… we need to talk.” Franco finally managed to weakly stutter as she pulled his belt slowly from his trousers, casting it away like a snake to a dark corner of the bedroom.Franco cleared his throat, trying to shake off the storm bursting inside his head. ‘Focus!’ he wanted to scream at himself, but how could he focus when the very woman he had loved and desired all of his life was sitting on his lap, her pink tongue licking at her bottom lip so enticingly; her perfume cruelly claiming his senses? She was intoxicating, and he was already drunk on her.“Not now, my Franco. Later. Perhaps.” She finished slowly, her voice dropping with sultry notes. She licked her lips, her heart stuttering at the husky change in her tone. She wanted to eat him alive. She looked around slowly before lowering her eyelashes and leaning a little closer to her man. He instinctively leaned up towards her, following her lead like a charmed snake. “Perhaps not at all. Since when have you and I ever needed words, my Franco? Mmmm. Don’t look now, but I think your cock is getting hard for me. So hard and so eager. Whatever should I do about that I wonder?“ Eleonora smirked when he immediately looked down at his crotch, his alarm coloring his face red. He breathed out slowly, closing his eyes, trying to hide his obvious arousal. He had not yet recovered his composure when he felt her lips pressing softly along his own.She let out a small moan, a beautiful sound that made his hard cock twitch in his trousers. He loved that sound. He lived for that sound. She leaned a little closer, her fingertips reaching out to graze across his cheek, spreading a wave of heat across his face. His body rose at her touch and he shifted under her, pressing his hardness up between her thighs to press against her soft mound. Eleonora sucked in her breath at the feeling, loving the way he had responded to her so perfectly, and loving the way her own body reacted, the warmth of her juices spreading her swelling pussy-lips at his touch."Mmmm, yes… I think I know what my Franco would like.” She whispered, crawling up on the bed and removing her heels one then the other, exposing her feet to him. Slowly, luxuriously, she slid back on the bed catlike, running her legs together sensuously as she played her toes up along his thighs.“Eleonora…”, Franco whispered, watching her eyes flicker as she ran her toes along his hips, teasing his throbbing cock as she ran her feet up and down along its length. She nodded, a wicked grin playing along her knowing smirk, making him shudder at the pure heat she radiated. Franco groaned as h felt her toes playing at the head of his cock, forcing it to grow even harder, straining against the front of his trousers. Even now he could feel the first drops of cum emerging in thick white  droplets from the straining head. Franco leaned his head back into the coverlets, groaning at the intense feelings radiating from his crotch. He was enraptured, he was enamored, he was in love.Every nerve in his body was on fire, crying out to touch her, to claim her, to fuck his cum into her warmth. He was in physical agony as she worked him. Daring to touch her, his greedy hands roamed along her bare legs. He moaned in blissful agony when he felt her panty-less as he slid his hand up between her thighs. He imagined himself touching her, squeezing, tasting, thrusting deep, his heavy balls slapping her ass. He was already as hard as a rock, his cock practically begging for her as she increased the torture, reaching down to free his aching shaft from the confines of his trousers.Eleonora moaned, more than excited that she thought she could be, feeling her husband’s fingers stroking gently along her exposed pussy lips, feeling the heat radiating from his throbbing cock overruling her senses, maddening her. She fumbled at his buttons and zipper even as she twisted herself in half to increase the pressure of her feet as she stroked his hardness with more fervor. Unable to cope with his trouser buttons, she growled in frustration, wanting, no, needing him inside her, now. His own groan mirrored hers, feeling the wave of pleasure and need gripping every nerve in his body. “Eleonora… please”, he begged.“Yes, Franco. Yes. Fuck but I need your cock.” She mewled, as she tore down his zipper and thrust her hand inside to pull out his hardened shaft. It was bigger than she had remembered. Thicker too, and with those perfect, bulging little veins made purposely to tease and pleasure the depths of her pussy. All she could think about was mounting that beautiful pole, of feeling it plunging into her, hearing him moan in ecstasy as she gripped him tight and drew him in deep. Suddenly he was on top of her, pulling her dress up over her hips furiously as he positioned himself between her legs. She almost squealed as she felt him drive into her, feeling him touch that little spot so deep within her that even the biggest cocks she had so far fucked had yet to find. He was so big, so strong, so fucking animal tonight! They fucked in rhythm. She scratched at his back, hearing the satisfying sound of her manicured nails tearing his shirt. He grunted as he drove into her over and over again, her own hips meeting every fevered thrust, driving him ever harder. He was lost in her, lost in the sensation of her tight little cunt gripping at his shaft, so overwhelmingly hot and hungry. He was her madman, and she was his loving bitch. They belonged together. How could they not? Each time he thrust into her pussy she could swear that she touched heaven. They fit. They were perfect.She was almost hysterical now as she cried fiercely into his shoulder, biting down hard, muffling her screams in the cloth of his ruined shirt. She came hard and long, her cries like a siren’s song that called to his own bursting release. He pumped into her, frenzied, desperate to hold on just a little longer, to feel this just a little longer. To make her cry out just one more time. He pounded brutally into her even as she shuddered in his arms, screaming breathlessly in his ear as she came along his thrusting cock. Franco let out a loud groan as his own orgasm exploded through him, her quivering body milking him for everything he had to give. They both moaned in unison as his heat flooded into her, Franco slamming into her with a last few weak thrusts before holding himself there, his sated cock twitching deep inside her soaked pussy. When they finally caught their breath, Eleonora grinned up at him, her eyes tired but shining brightly.“It will be different, Franco,” she panted, “I promise you. I know I have not appreciated you.”“Different, yes.” Franco kissed her, long and deep, “We have so much to talk about. Us, our, lives, our marriage, our… everything.”Eleonora smiled, one delicate finger tracing down along his jaw. “Yes, my Franco. Everything. Everything will be different now, I promise. I understand what I’ve done wrong. Hurting you so. Ignoring you. Taking you for granted. That will all change now. I am going to make you so much happier.”Franco’s mind was swirling. He could feel his cock twitching, still pressed between her soft pussy lips. The feeling of her lovely feet stroking up and down his hips and back filling him with renewed desire, leaving him breathless as he felt her petal lips teasing at his throat. “You have no idea how happy that makes me, my Eleonora. But… but Pamela…”Eleonora laughed, slapping at his shoulder playfully even as she lifted her mouth to his, “Oh, my Franco. It is alright. I understand perfectly. I have taken men. It is only natural for you to want other women as well. It is my own fault for neglecting your needs, my own fault. If you feel like taking some other strumpet from time to time, who am I to object? We can make it part of our game from now on.”Shaking his head, pulling back from her kiss, Franco had a look of confusion on his face as he took in her words. His mind was still reeling from their sex, still lost in the sensations of her warm body pressed tightly to his own. Eleonora leaned back into the bed as she pressed her hips up, forcing a soft moan from him as she flattened her feet on his ass and pulled him deeper into her utterly soaked pussy-mound. It took whatever sense he had left to utter the simple word,“Game?’“Mmmmm, yes. Our game.” She replied, smiling brightly as she gazed up into his eyes, “But now we shall truly play it together. I don’t want to just have you sitting there like a bystander as I have my fun. You can direct me, tell me what you would like, even pick and choose my lovers if you would like. And when we are done, I will be so good to you, my Franco. Not simply a bag of potatoes for you to carry home. How utterly stupid and selfish I was. Can you ever forgive me?”“Forgive you? You mean… you mean you want to continue finding… finding other men?”, he said, aghast at the words coming from her perfect petal-soft lips. “Well, of course.” she laughed, “But now I understand what I’ve done to you. How I have hurt you. Ignored you. Ignored the needs of my man, my husband, my greedy lover. It is you I should have bragged about, not them. You I should have regarded my true lover not those stupid strangers.”Franco rose from her embrace, kneeling upright between her thighs as he cupped his face into his hands, unbelieving of what he was hearing. As he did, the head of his cock popped from her folds, spraying a bit of cum across her belly as it fond release. Eleonora could only laugh as she drew the bit of white goo from her belly and licked it lovingly from her fingers. Franco saw none of it, his mind still reeling from the truth, “No. no. no…  what about… I mean… oh, I am so confused now.”Eleonora giggled, raking her fingernails across his belly, playing her fingers through the soft manly fur. Until now she had not realized, or not fully appreciated, the long hours Franco had spent at the gym and on his bicycle. Faced with such competition he had risen to the challenge, sculpting his body into an athletic mass of muscle and delicious hardness. She found herself biting her lip as she traced his defined abs, her eyes drawn to the bulging muscle of his arms and legs, shivering as she thought again on how his thrusting strokes had grown more and more powerful over the last few months. All things she had shamefully failed to notice as she was seeking out new and bigger cocks to fuck. “There I no need to be confused, my Franco. You are my husband. My hero. The man I care for and adore. The man who owns me. Wholly and completely. I had confused those other men as lovers. Only you are my lover. They were, they should have been, simply objects for our play. Fleeting and meaningless. I will not make that mistake again; I promise you.”By this time her eyes had fallen the distance from Franco’s chest and stomach down to his half-hard shaft. Though not as big and brutal as the ones she had found with all of those fucking pigs at the club, it was still of a good size and beautiful to look upon. Finding herself suddenly with the need to feel her husband growing hard between her lips, hearing his fevered moans, Eleonora twisted herself upon the bed to bring her mouth to it, reaching out in sensual eagerness with the tip of her tongue. She moaned as she felt his hand in her hair, swooning to the thought of his newfound masculinity. But that turned to confusion as, instead of drawing her closer, Franco yanked her back sharply pulling her away from her intended occupation. Instead Franco rose from the bed, standing bewildered as he pushed her away from him repeating, “What have I done? God, what have I done?” as he drew away from her in his embarrassment. “Franco! Whatever is wrong? Come back to bed!”, Eleonora pleaded, a look of fright wiping away her smile as she watched him scutter about the room madly, searching for his lost tie and nearly tripping over his discarded suit-jacket. “I thought you said… I thought you meant it would be different.” He pleaded, caught halfway putting his tie around his neck, staring at her as she looked up at him from the bed, her once lovely dress gathered under her breasts, ruined with dark stains. In mere moments his dreams had been shattered once more, “I do not want to play these games with you. I do not want other men and other women in our lives, Eleonora. I want a home in the country. To get out of this fucking town. I want to build a life, I want to work up my business, have children. I thought we both wanted to start a family together. Don’t you want children, Eleonora? A life?”Eleonora knelt on the bed her face growing red with anger at Franco’s continued stupidity. “Children? What, so I can grow fat and ugly with my tits hanging down and stretch marks across my belly? It that what you want of me? Franco, we are young and alive and there is so much to do and to experience. Let us live while we can, my Franco. Life is a game to be played and enjoyed, don’t you see?”His hands shaking, Franco slid up his zipper and fastened his belt once again, each movement punctuated by shuddering sobs. How could he have been so utterly blind? So utterly taken away by her? Was he that weak?  That faithless to himself?  Now as he looked on her he could no longer see his dream, his love, his life. All he saw was the failure of his marriage, of having fooled himself with dreams of a life he could never have. At least not with her. “I am leaving, Eleonora. Pamela is…”“Pamela! That whore!” she spat back at him, red rage coloring her face, “You I can forgive. You needed a cunt to fuck. She knew who you are, she was supposed to be my friend, and yet she fucks my husband the lying tramp! Oh, do not worry, my Franco, I have my plans for her!”Franco turned disgusted at what he was seeing now. He slid on his suit-jacket and slid his hand through his hair as he made for the bedroom door. As he left, he felt the need to make things as clear as possible with his wife… while she was still his wife, “I am leaving now, Eleonora. I am leaving and will be filing for divorce in the morning. The apartment is under my name, so I want you and your fucking things out by the end of the week. If there is anything of yours left I will toss it onto the street.”Her eyes filled with the terror of his words, Eleonora crawled to the edge of the bed, her words stuttering through her shock, “Franco, you cannot mean…? I won’t let you…”“You will not contest it. Unless of course you want me to drag a dozen of your lovers in front of the judge?” Franco surprised himself, his voice grown low, his feelings which a moment ago were hot with passion had faded off into cold contempt. “I will be starting a new life, Eleonora. The life I should have had. One with a family and a wife devoted to me and to me alone. No more games. I hope you find what you are looking for, Eleonora. But it will not be with me.”He left her there, not turning back, afraid to show the tears running down his face as he reached for the front door. Behind him he heard her sobbing, her head in her hands, wondering what had gone wrong. Wondering  what was left of her life without him. Until this very moment, Eleonora realized, her life was built on one solid truth; that Franco loved her and that he would always and ever be there to support her in all of her efforts and desires, always giving and never taking. Now he was gone and perhaps for good, driven away by her own unthinking selfishness. She placed her hand upon her belly, still feeling his warmth within. She wanted to move, to crawl off the bed and somehow put herself back together, but for the life of her she had no idea what to do now. She could not stay here. Even with Franco’s heartless decree the place held too many memories for her to bear. She had few friends to turn to and her family would ask far too many questions for her comfort. If the truth of it all were ever revealed her reputation and her life here would be utterly ruined. With nothing else to do and nowhere for her to go she fell into the pillows and wept, wondering for the first time in her life what hell would take her now. -- source link
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