I would have continued searching for her as I had the previous four years if she had taken Camille with her. Since she didn’t, I redirected my anger to something more positive—as I try to do again now.
My attraction to Lucia is sufficient enough to force this train back onto the tracks in a shamefully quick time. It’s as immediate as the swelling of my cock when she glided onto the stage in a paper-thin dress and an oversized wig concealing her features.
I could have let her keep her shield of anonymity, but I was selfish. I was as desperate to see her face as I was to announce my plan.
A nanny position wouldn’t tie her to me for life, but it would guarantee me fourteen years to woo her.
Even someone as devious as Matteo could have an angel siding with the devil in that time. It wasn’t foolproof, but it was the only plan I could think of that wouldn’t involve forcing her into submission with my dick.
No wonder my plan failed.
While pumping my cock, I flare my nostrils, hopeful to catch a snippet of Lucia’s scent on my skin. Pre-cum pools at the top when my efforts pay dividends. I can smell the scent of her arousal on my mouth, hand, and cock, but I also catch the faintest whiff of her perfume.
“Yes,” I whisper, my thoughts now not solely on my own release.
I imagine Lucia’s desperation reaching a fever pitch and her handslowly slipping beneath her panties. I’d want to watch, so I’d have to order her into my room and demand she fan her legs wide for me.
Again, the thought has me on the brink of release.
I tug my dick harder, almost cruelly.
When my balls pull in close to my body, I throw my head back and stare at the ceiling. My pumps don’t slow as my body shudders through release. They taper a little so I can savor the tingles that have been few and far between the past five years.
I won’t allow another long stint of abstinence to happen.
Lucia Martinez flipped more than my life plan on its end when she jabbed her finger into my chest.
She rewrote history.
