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“Now you can come, Vanessa.”
She moves a hand and strokes her clit. I hump her like a dog fucking a bitch in heat. Vanessa moans and screams. I am relentless. I keep slamming into her.My favorite sound?My balls slapping a woman’s ass when I am pounding into her pussy.
“Oh God Bobby, I’m coming! Don’t stop!”
I don’t think of Vanessa as I fuck her. I think about Gwen, my virgin bride. I haven’t fucked an 18-year-old in years. I wonder how tight her pussy will feel while my cock rides her. Will she be wet? Will she come? I imagine Gwen’s wet pussy throbbing around my cock. Her naked body writhing under me. Moaning. Beautiful innocent face… My cock explodes into the condom. I pull out of Vanessa. I rip off the used condom and zip my pants. I toss my used condom into the garbage can. I sit down at my desk.
Vanessa is getting dressed. Her face is flushed from her orgasm.
“Bobby, do you want to approve any of the clothing or the wedding gown?”
Business as usual. I like that. I don’t want her to ask, “was it good for you?” I hate that crap.
“No, I trust your judgement. We understand each other. If you have any questions or problems with Gwen, you can call me directly.”
I hand her my business card.
She puts it in her handbag and leaves.
I look forward to fucking her again.
Gwen
I walk down the curved staircase. My father sits on one of the pristine white sofas in the living talking to an exotic-looking woman. She sits on matching sofa across from my father in a tight-fitting pearl grey Chanel suit with black high heels. She wears her black hair in a sleek and shiny bob that falls slightly below her chin. She is tall and thin. Athletic. Runner’s body. Bobby Vincenzio’s type. I feel jealous.
This woman must be the stylist. She is supposed to turn me into the perfect mafia boss’s wife. Her brown eyes fix on me as I sit next to my father. My father is mesmerized by her.Ugh!
“Gwen,” my father stands up, “This is your new stylist, Vanessa. She is going to help you choose a new wardrobe and wedding gown, among other things.”
“Nice to meet you, Gwendolyn.”
Vanessa holds out her arm. I reach over the coffee table and shake her hand. Her nails are blood red, long, and perfectly manicured.
“Hello.”
Vanessa smiles at me. She has perfect white teeth. She must bleach them. She has a mistress vibe about her. I bet she likes rich and powerful men, like Bobby.
“Well, I have work to do. Have fun!” My father leaves the living room.
I notice a middle-aged woman, probably a seamstress, standing in the living room. She has a tape measure around her neck and a pin cushion with pins on her wrist. There are at least a dozen rolling garment racks filled with designer clothes, including a few racks of wedding gowns. Our living room looks like an upscale boutique.
“Mr. Vincenzio – Bobby – wanted the clothes brought to you. He does not think it is safe for you to leave your house right now. Most of the clothes are in your size, but everything can be altered by Helen.”
The seamstress nods her head.
“Gwen, we should get started.”
Vanessa points to a make-shift wooden platform in the middle of the living room - large enough for me to stand on. There is a full-length mirror next to the platform.
“Helen will take some measurements first. Do you mind stripping down to your underwear, Gwen?”
“Okay.”
I walk over and stand on the small platform. I slip out of my jeans, tee-shirt, and Birkenstocks. I stand on the platform wearing only a white cotton bra and white cotton bikini panties.
I hear Vanessa sigh as she sees my underwear. Oh brother.
“We will have to order you some nicer lingerie. Your figure is fuller than I expected.”
