True Choices (10 page)

Chapter 12 HER

Curled up under a cashmere blanket, the sound of the jet engines and the soft flight attendant voices relaxes me, but I can't sleep. Max made me lie down on the sofa for a little bit, but I'm too wired. I want to pinch myself. He's been extravagant before, but this was beyond my wildest dreams.

Me, little corn-bred small town girl, in a private lux jet on my way to Rome. I've only been to Italy once before. And not in this kind of style! I look around at the muted tan tones and deep wood work of the plane. We've had non-stop offerings of food and drink. The bathroom has a shower and a large vase of orchids. I think this jet is as big as my apartment was. I snuggle into the deep sofa more, I could get used to this.

Max walks towards the back where I am and I quickly close my eyes. "You're not fooling me..." He rubs my head and sits on the sofa next to me.

I open one eye. "I tried to sleep, honest...I'm just too excited! I don't want to miss anything!"

He laughs and moves so I can sit up next to him. "I'm excited to show you Italy too. This is my second favorite place in the world. Ron used to take us every summer for a family trip when Jake and I were younger." He pulls me onto his lap and looks at his watch. "We'll be landing in about forty minutes. Our hotel's on the north side of the city."

"What time will it be in Rome when we land?"

"We should get there a little before 5:30...should give us enough time for an aperitivo and passeggiata before dinner." He tweaks my nose.

"I'm glad you picked Italy for our honeymoon...Thank you! For everything so far, Max!" I kiss him, exploring with my tongue, tasting the strawberry still on his lips. I feel the familiar longing that this creates in us both. His cock hardens.

He holds me back, laughing. "You'll have to wait till we're in our room for that, baby!"

"OK...but your walk may need to be delayed, Mister!"

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"This bed is like a great big bag of fluffy goodness! I could stay in it all day! And look at this canopy...it's a cloud!" I sit up, pulling a surrounding thick white curtain onto the bed.

"You better get up and get ready for dinner or you'll be enjoying a close up view of that bed post, little girl." He's smiling at me though. He pulls our luggage up onto the stands waiting for them. I jump out of bed and unzip mine next to him, still nude. He already took a shower and has his pants on.

"Where are we eating...fancy or casual?" My luggage is full of new skirts, tops, and dresses. Max insisted I visit Cassandra at Needless again and have her pick out appropriate things. I was irritated that she knew where we were going on our honeymoon, when I didn't. But I do love all my new stuff.

"Casual tonight I think...I haven't made any reservations...we'll just follow our noses to a good spot." He tweaks my nose again.

I stop smiling when I see him holding the belt. I didn't know he'd packed it. He smiles at the pout on my face. "Put this away and get ready quickly. I'll be downstairs having a drink." He kisses my cheek.

I put the belt in the closet and walk back slowly, still pouting. I thought our honeymoon would be a spank-free time at least! My butt still aches from last night.

I watch as he finishes dressing. A lightweight sports coat covers the light blue shirt and his strong shoulders. My strong, handsome husband.

"I'm starving! Get ready!" He playfully smacks my hip. But he adds a little sternness, "I'm giving you thirty minutes to be downstairs," he looks at his watch, "That's exactly 7:30."

"Yes, Sir." But I continue moving slowly towards the marble bathroom, watching him. Once I hear the door to our room close, though, I hurry to get ready. This hotel smells like heaven! Even the toilet paper is scented! I open every jar of fancy salts and soaps, choosing a rich amber colored one for a hot bath.

We had a gift of champagne, strawberries, mini-tarts, a candle, and chocolates waiting for us in the room. I finish my glass of champagne and nibble a little chocolate before running out the door.

In the small elevator, I adjust my boots and twist the hem of my dark blue dress around the right way. I didn't wash my hair, since it wouldn't be dry in time, just pulled it up in a loose knot. And I'm not wearing any makeup. I smile at myself in the mirrored panel...just the way Max likes me.

I look at my watch. Dammit! I didn't adjust for the time change, but I can still tell that I have only minutes to find him downstairs. I tap my heel impatiently waiting for the elevator door to open.

Unfortunately it opens on the second floor and an Italian couple gets on...slowly, squeezing together next to me. I smile, but I'm still tapping my foot. As soon as the doors open again, I dash out and look around. I can hear laughter coming from a bar area and head in that direction, hopeful.

I see Max sitting at the bar, drinking a glass of wine and laughing with another man and the bartender. He smiles at me and looks at his watch. I stop myself from looking at mine, still hopeful.

"Here is la mia bellissima moglie, Lucy." He introduces me to the man and the bartender. I smile as he puts his arm around me and kisses my cheek. "Right on time, baby." I breathe a sigh of relief.

Max continues talking to the man who turns out to be a small town official from Michigan named Ben. Max keeps his arm on me and gives me his seat, but he doesn't order me a drink of my own and only gives me a sip of his wine. The bartender asks with gestures and smiles if I'd like anything, but I look to Max to answer, just as he would like. He only shakes his head imperceptibly, so I decline with a small smile.

I've actually become very used to this aspect of our relationship...he orders everything. I wait...for his pleasure....and he gives me little gifts of drinks and food...what he thinks I'll like or knows I'll want. I blush thinking of how this makes me feel, how this makes me think....like a puppy waiting for a bone...a treat...from my Master.

"Would you like a glass of wine, Lucy...I have a bottle open...?" Ben lifts his own glass and leans towards me.

I'm feeling bold, being far from home, so before Max can answer, "No, thank you. If my husband wants me to have anything, he'll order it for me." I look shyly up at Max who has his crooked grin up with a raised eyebrow. He lifts my chin slightly with his finger and kisses my cheek. I know I've pleased him and my pussy gets that jolt from my stomach again.

"You are a very lucky man, Max..." Ben stares at me though as he says this.

I was feeling bold...and I don't like this man. Something about his overbearing, overly loud nature. I know, don't judge a book...but after interviewing thousands of people, I trust my instincts when it comes to quick judgments like this.

"Yes. I am. And we should get going. Lucy, I'll be right back, I'm going to drop the key with the front desk." He kisses my cheek again and walks away.

"So..." Ben smiles at me and leans in again. "Do you want that drink now that your
husband
isn't watching...?" He almost spills his glass sloshing it over my legs.

"No...No thank you." I look towards the direction Max left. And this creep puts his hand on my knee. My instincts kick in and I slap his hand hard. "Get your hand off me!" I say this louder than I intended, the bartender is quickly over to our side again. But Ben just sits back and laughs at me.

Before Max, I probably would've handled that a little differently. I wouldn't have been so quick to show my anger at being pawed by a stranger. I would've tried to be politely firm, maybe gently pushed his hand off or moved my leg to lose it. I never liked overly friendly pushy men before Max, but now I see that I don't have to allow a man to get away with touching me like that. I don't need to be polite to inappropriate strangers.

Max returns and takes my hand while I stand. He leans over the bar and leaves an extra tip for the bartender with a nod. Before moving away though, he turns his head and says quietly, very close to Ben, "Touch my wife again and there might be a story about you being thrown into the Tiber in tomorrow's La Repubblica." Max doesn't move, but when Ben sits back more, he steps away.

When we're outside, I quickly turn to Max and put my hands on his chest, "You're not mad at me, you
can't
be mad at me?!"

He smiles and presses my hands against his chest. "No, baby, you did fine. That guy was just an asshole." He puts his arm around me and turns us onto the street to walk. "Let's head down the Via del Corso for a while and we'll find a place to eat on a side street."

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"My feet are killing me...I don't think I could've walked another step today!"

"Not even for another scoop of stracciatella?" He's laughing at me. We've had gelato at least once for the last seven days and I always get the same one.

"Not even for that!"

The sun has set and the lights of the city shine back at us. The night air is warm enough that the restaurant's terrace is still candlelit and we can enjoy a drink outside before our reservation. 

Max takes yet another picture of me, this time with the Dome lit behind me. "I can't help it. You're just so beautiful!"

"So we've been under the Coliseum, under the Vatican, through Hadrian's, we've walked for hours and hours...what's on the agenda for tomorrow?" I don't even know how long we're staying; he won't tell me. I know that I have a lot of unworn clothes still, but I laugh realizing how much I've given to Max the past few days.

I haven't had a say in anything this entire trip. He's planned everything out, from private tours and cars, to where we eat. I asked to go back to a shop yesterday and he wouldn't let me. He didn't explain why, just told me no. And I didn't argue. A test maybe? He's usually so indulgent of my wants and needs.

He's shown me parts around Rome I didn't know existed. The tomb below the Vatican, the sacred mosaic, our feet following the path of Popes. The exotic fountains of Villa d'Este with the best gelato outside the gates. An underground Osteria. A warehouse of restored museum pieces. A private garden with rare sculptures of liquid beauty. A cooking class with three Nonnas. I think that one was more for him. He wants me to be a good cook.

"
You
are going to pack us up tonight...we're heading to Capri tomorrow."

"Yeah! I've never been south of Rome! How are we getting there?" I'm excited to see a new area of Italy.

"That's enough questions, little girl. You'll pack us up when we get back to the hotel, we have an early departure tomorrow.
That
is all you need to know." He squeezes my arm and smiles smugly at me. I know he's enjoyed this total control...since our wedding day, he's had absolute power over me. And I've never seen Max happier. I smile knowing that he's happy with how I submit to his control...making him happy makes me happier.

Chapter 12 HIM

"I could get used to living on an island." I take another shot of the Faraglioni, still not tired of our view out to sea.

"I could get used to living on
this
island!" She laughs, stretching on the lounge chair, arms straight in the air, fingers wiggling. I snap another picture of her and she laughs harder.

In Rome, we ran around all day, down, up, through, around the Eternal City. Seeing everything again for the first time together. I felt like a kid. This leg of our honeymoon has been more relaxed. Our routine has been to do only one thing in the morning and spend the afternoon around our villa and pool. We've explored most the island, rented a boat, hiked past the flimsy gate up the Via Krupp and through the Gardens, around the Villa Jovis, over the rooftops to Anacapri. But always back for an afternoon of swimming and lounging, fucking and napping.

The tourist season is ended here; the pace is slower. La Piazzetta is quieter, shop and restaurant owners stop to talk more, haggling anything.  I negotiated the price for a lobster dinner with the owner of a restaurant last night; we were his last customers before closing up and heading to his vineyard on the mainland.  He threw in the best fresh scampi I've ever had too. Of course, he sat and drank half our wine and charged us for the pleasure of his company...but that was a part of the bargain.

"I like the idea of you on an island..."

"Oh...why's that?" She's squinting up at me, her eyes brighter than the sea in the setting sun.

"I could keep you all to myself. You'd be trapped, only able to come and go as I please...I'd be your Caesar..."

She laughs and reaches her hand out to me, "Don't you already have that power...without need of a sea?"

I kiss her hand. This trip has been good for her. The perfect start to our lives as man and wife. She won't be surprised when we're back home and I expect the same behavior. She
is
on an island of my choosing, and I'll keep her there.

I step back to the terrace wall. Waves lap the rocky beach below. "Come here." She gets up immediately and comes to me. I love her lack of hesitation on this trip.

I turn her to face the water and stand behind her, pushing her forward, placing her hands flat on the stone wall, looking out to the jutting fragments of rock. She doesn't resist. I hold the skirt of her dress up, exposing her nice round ass, the top of her pink frilly thong peeking out. She raises onto her tip-toes, just the way I like, arching herself to me.

"Do you know why I'm going to spank you, Lucy?"

"No, Sir." Still no hesitation. Only an added hunger lines her voice.

I run my hand up her leg and squeeze her right cheek hard, she breathes out slowly, staying on her toes. "Because I want to. Because I can." I smile. "Because I can't imagine a more perfect view than your bottom matching the reddening sky."

She swallows hard, "Thank you, Sir."

I slap her right cheek hard, pushing her forward, bending her elbows with the blow. A soft moan escapes her lips, but is made louder by the next slap to her left cheek. I alternate between them, right left right left right left, taking my time between each flat whack, pushing her forward each time, waiting for her to come back for more. She stays on her toes, only whimpering softly with the last one.

"Keep your dress up and stand facing the sea." I take her seat on the lounger and watch as the setting sun outlines my beautiful girl. Her skin glows against the darkening sky, my handprints matching the sun's fingers stretching across the water. She stands with her shoulders back, the dress high around her waist, chin up.

When the last of the light dips into the water, "You may lower your dress and turn around."

Her smile is wicked. She starts to move towards me, but stops with a startled cry and her hand to her mouth. I turn in the seat and follow her stare. Up the hill to our right is another villa, with a terrace. A man in a light suit has been watching the sun set on Lucy too. I start to chuckle as Lucy runs into the living room.

As I stand to follow, the man raises his hand in a wave, a tipping of his non-existent hat to me. I smile and raise my hand to him.

"Lucy...you know better than to run away from me like that..." but the chuckle is still in my voice.

"Did you see? That man was watching us?!" She's whispering like she could be overheard by someone in here.

"So what? That's no excuse for you leaving my side..." I try to put a little sternness into my voice, but fail miserably. The look on her face is just too damn funny! "Come here."

She moves into my arms and I kiss the top of her head. I walk us to the sofa and lie down, propping my head up on the arm. She watches as I undo my pants and pull my cock out. She's on her knees quickly and I breath sharply in as she grabs my cock in both hands and puts her mouth around me in one movement.

Her lips tighten and relax, her tongue pushes and wraps as she raises her head and hands up and down my cock. She's learned how I like it.  I yank her head back and my good girl whines, not at the pain, but at being forced to stop. "Get on me." She stands and drops her thong quickly. Putting her knees into the sofa, she lowers herself onto me. Just like I like, all the way down, her dress pooling around us.

Hands behind her back, she slowly raises herself up and down. She's gotten good at this. Her legs are stronger from jogging.

I like watching her, head back, eyes almost closed, concentrating on her movements, squeezing me like I like. But I like fucking with her too. I grab the front of her dress and yank her towards me, stopping her from falling against me at the last second with my palm. Her hair blankets over us, her hands still behind her back. I push her with my palm and pull her with my other hand squeezing her tender ass. She continues to try to rock her hips against me more, but I'm controlling our movements now, pushing and pulling her faster.

I give one final push and she sits up, hair whipping to the side, I slap her exposed cheek hard and she cries out, eyes wide open, not moving her hips. I growl, "Don't stop," and keep my other hand on her ass, pulling her towards me. She moves her hips and I pull her into me deeper when she rocks away, slapping her cheek again.

Her eyes take on that look I can't get enough of, soft, yielding, wanting. She's told me that her fear of me makes her even hungrier for me, for my love. I continue slapping her with each quick pull forward and she keeps her chin up like I've taught her, squeezing and crying out. I yank her head back as she cums loudly, her body rocking against me, stealing the last of my own control with her spasms.

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"Nic, I'll text you when we're ready to head back." He nods and drives off. I put my arm around Lucy and head towards the restaurant just off the square. She looks beautiful in a tight tan sweater and skirt, showing off her sandals from Anacapri.  We walk by the busy tables on the cobblestones and the owner's wife welcomes us with hugs and air kisses. She says she held our favorite table for us and we show ourselves upstairs, to the balcony.

"Ah, hello!" I stop and turn to the man sitting by himself at the table next to the balcony.

I frown for a moment, trying to place his face before I slowly smile. "Hello, neighbor." Lucy stands waiting next to her chair, she knows not to sit without me. But she can't see the man I'm talking to. "Lucy, come say hello." I see her flush as she stands at my side, recognizing the man who saw her spanked earlier.

"I was beginning to think that I was the only tourist left on the island." The man laughs, appraising Lucy up and down, before meeting my eyes again. "It's always nice to see other Americans on holiday." His accent has a hint of British, maybe London, but too muddled with a stronger New York accent. He puts out his hand and we shake, "Names Randolph Richards...a horrible joke I think from my British Mum." He laughs at himself and his cheeks turn as rosy as Lucy's.

"I'm Max Traeger. This is my wife Lucy." She continues to only shrink next to my arm. In a voice that has her jumping, "Don't be rude, little girl."

"Hello." She says quietly, only raising her eyes for a moment.

"Charming." Randolph smiles at me. "Have you eaten here before? I only just arrived yesterday..."

"Yes. This has become our favorite spot." Something about how embarrassed Lucy is acting makes me want to embarrass her even more. I see his table is set for one. "Are you dining alone? Would you like to join us, Randolph?" I'm pleased to see the redness in Lucy's cheeks deepen. She puts her hand lightly on my arm, but doesn't say anything.

"I'd be delighted, Max. Oh..." He looks around for the waiter, but isn't getting anyone's attention.

I speak up, "Pasquale," the waiter stops in front of me and gives me a quick handshake and air kiss hello, "We'd like Mr. Richards here to join us for dinner. Please add a setting to our table." He moves quickly to make this happen and pulls the table out a little for Lucy to sit on the outside. She smiles a thanks to him, but continues to keep her eyes down.

The waiter hands both of us a menu and walks away. "Don't you need to see a menu, Lucy...or do you already know what you want? Perhaps you can help me with a choice...?"

She looks to me to answer, actually pleads a little with her eyes. I grin, "You're being rude again, Lucy..." The hint of threat obvious.

"...My husband orders for me..." She says this very quietly, but I'm proud to see that she keeps her chin up. "The mussels last night were very nice." But she hasn't looked at either of us. Her hands wringing her napkin into a tight twist.

Randolph grins at me. He's probably in his 60's, a portly belly more than started. I grin back. He seems to get the picture pretty quickly, "Your wife is very charming indeed, Max."

"Thank you. This is our honeymoon actually...and Lucy is still learning." I wink and he laughs out loud again.

"I believe I witnessed a lesson earlier tonight," his grin turns a little embarrassed. Lucy lowers her head and shrinks in her chair at this. "I'm afraid I have to apologize for
my
rudeness...I just couldn't take my eyes away."

"No...I should apologize. No one's been in that villa since we arrived. I should have checked first." I look at Lucy, her face is paled. I think she's holding her breath. "Lucy, sit up straight." She immediately does, but her eyes and chin stay down.

"We should celebrate your matrimonial bliss! Oh...what was his name?...Right...Pasquale! We need your finest Amarone...and you might as well bring two bottles to save yourself a trip." He pats his stomach and relaxes back into his seat, smiling from me to Lucy. "I don't think I've met a couple quite like you...well, not since I was a boy anyway."

"The days when men were men...?" I laugh at using this phrase, but it probably suits his cowboy image of that era.

"Yes...and women were still treated like property...?" He wags his bushy brows at me with a little giggle.

Lucy squirms in her seat, looking at me sideways. I smile at her, taking her hand under the table. "Exactly."

Randolph giggles again and Lucy blushes more. "I find it very refreshing. No misunderstandings about who's who and what's what. Very refreshing."

Lucy finally stops looking so uncomfortable with the help of a second glass of wine and more of the spaghetti alle vongole she liked. He has her shyly giggling over a story of a couple he met last month in Venice, also on their honeymoon. Apparently Randolph had enjoyed cigars with the husband earlier in the night. But over dinner, the man kept spitting into his wine glass.

"And making the most horrible sound while doing so. It was drawing quite a bit of attention to our table. The wife only laughed and looked like he does this sort of thing all the time." I'm laughing picturing Randolph in the middle of a restaurant with these two. "Well...to put it delicately...the sight of the side of this man's wine glass was too much for the large meal I had enjoyed up to this point." He pauses dramatically to take another sip of wine. "I lost that divine meal on the floor of the restaurant!" He starts laughing harder, waving his hand in front of his red face.

"But what was worse," he interrupts himself with laughter again, "when I came back to the table, the waiters were clearing the floor, I was giving Euros to anyone with a hand out in retribution," he stops to laugh again, "and this sweet elderly couple was trying to get away from the mess. The
husband
...he's
still
spitting into his glass!" We're all three laughing hard now. "And this sweet elderly woman almost slips on the floor. What do you think the man had to say for himself?" He laughs too hard to tell us for a second, wiping at his eyes. "Yo, that'sa his tomato!" He does a perfect New Yorker and we're all holding our sides laughing.

"That's awful! Did you get out of there as quick as you could?"

Randolph continues laughing too hard to answer Lucy, "No...I ordered dessert." She laughs harder at this. He sobers enough to add, "I was hungry after all," and pats his middle.

She giggles more. "I wouldn't have given up dessert either!"

"Well...with your permission...?" He looks to me; I nod, "I saw a few I'd like to try from here, but I can't possibly order all three just for me...you'll help me, won't you, Lucy?"