I had been to Venice several times and was never disappointed by its magic. Yes, there are hordes of tourists throughout the year, but what can you expect if you seek out such a preposterously over-the-top, baroque city-on-an-island? A man-made fairytale confection, doomed to eventually sink into the lagoon that surrounds it, like a latter day Atlantis.
I had met Alicea on a European dating site. We 'clicked' from the word go and when I suggested a long weekend in Venice, she didn't need asking twice. "Well, as you've been there three times before and obviously know your way around, why don't you make all the travel arrangements?" I happily agreed. "But do tell me what to bring, darling?"
I very nearly replied: "As little as possible," but managed to come up with something slightly more alluring. "I'd love it if you could, maybe 'dress down' a little - say to an imaginary age of seventeen? Would you mind?"
There was an alarmingly long pause and I wondered if I'd over-stepped the bounds of propriety with this feisty twenty-six-year-old. "Hey, I love that sort of young / old set-up! Me in ultra-short pleated skirts and revealing blouses? You in a crumpled old lightweight suit? That sort of thing?"
"Exactly!" My worries about our thirty-year age difference evaporated.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A week later we rendezvoused in one of the terminal buildings at London's Heathrow Airport. We'd never met face-to-face and I nervously scanned the travelers in the bar I had nominated. Then, tucked away in a far corner all alone, I spotted my 'date'. She was wearing a jaunty pink-ribboned straw hat, a pink silk blouse, faded blue jeans shorts, white ankle socks, and pink suede pumps. In front of her on the table was a half-empty Pina Colada cocktail. She looked good enough to eat.
She smiled coquettishly as I sauntered up. "Hi, Nick. Hope you didn't mind me starting? Thought I'd get into the holiday spirit as soon as possible!"
"Good girl! Let me get you another - we've still got almost an hour before our flight is called. I'll be right back."
I returned with our drinks and took a seat opposite her. Without looking up from her second pineapple cocktail, Alicea gently ran one of her shoes up my calf. She made a slurping noise with the straw to attract my attention, gazed up demurely and asked, "Young enough?"
I had a job to stop spluttering with laughter and managed, instead, to whisper, "Perfect!"
She continued her adorable charade on the flight and soon had the young steward who served us our supper swooning with admiration. Making sure our two meal trays neatly abutted on their drop-down shelves, Alicea deftly slid her napkin over my legs. Just as I was about to place a forkful of spaghetti Bolognese in my mouth, I felt an inquisitive hand gently stroking my crotch. Without even glancing sideways - and as if enquiring about the food I was consuming - she whispered, "You like?"
I choked on my spaghetti so violently that our steward had to bring me a glass of water. "Anything for Madam?" he enquired courteously.
"I wouldn't say no to another Pina Colada."
"Certainly, madam."
My very own Lolita quietly returned to her ministrations.
_ _ _ _ _
The high-speed launch transer from Marco Polo Airport to the start of the Grand Canal is always an electrifying experience, with the approaches made doubly exciting as dusk falls on the city. The dome of St Mark's Basilica was bathed in crimson light.
Neither did our canal-side apartment atop a faded seventeenth century palazzo disappoint, although one could hardly have described its amenities as twenty-first century. The carpets were threadbare, the curtains were moth-eaten and even the cooking utensils looked as if they should have been in a museum. But Alicea, bless her, was wholly un-phased, pronouncing it all 'simply delightful'. Standing on tip-toes she gave me a slow, lingering 'thank you' kiss.
I uncorked the bottle of Prosecco we had purchased at the airpot and handed her a huge cut-glass goblet. "Now I'm going to do something exceptionally naughty for you," she purred, slipping out of her shorts and unbuttoning her blouse.
She sauntered over to the balcony which overlooked the Grand Canal, still busy with traffic and two huge cruise ships. I was reasonably certain that perched up on our top floor, no one would be able to spot the naked figure of my nubile lover. "Come and stand behind me, Nick" she instructed, unbuttoning my trousers and sliding my jockey shorts to the floor. "Nice and close!" She leaned over the stone balcony rail and poked her posterior out provocatively.
"Want to take me from behind?"
"What? Here? Now?"
"Why not? Slide into my bumhole, why don't you? You're always messaging how you love the view of my puckered sphincter. Well now's you chance to try it for size!"
Not only had this outrageously sexy set-up got me stiff as a flagpole, but I was already starting to leak copiously. She reached behind her and smeared some of my pre-cum across the top of my glans. "There you are, big boy - Nature's own special lube!" She moved her other hand back and parted the cheeks of her bottom as I eased myself slowly into her.
Once I was snugly inside her, she moved her two arms forward to better grip the ledge of the balcony. Her head dropped forward as I thrust, and she moaned: "Oh you fucker! You dirty fucker!" An exaltation that was enough to tip me over the edge. I gripped her hips tightly as I emptied my seed deep inside her.
Half-an-hour (and three goblets of Prosecco) later, Alicea was sitting cross-legged and naked on a threadbare old chaise lounge. She gave me a wicked grin. "Well, who'd have thought it?"
"Thought what?"
"Who'd have thought that within an hour of arriving in Venice for the first time, I'd be fucked up the arse!" She roared with laughter as she downed her wine.
_ _ _ _ _
For the first night of our vacation we slept soundly, wrapped in each other's arms. I woke at first light and went into the tiny kitchen to find coffee-making items. The chipped old blue enamel jug had seen better days, but the Italian coffee beans the owners had left us were top quality. As were the sugared almond amoretti biscuits.
Alicea had dragged the chaise lounge out onto the balcony and was sunbathing topless. With her eyes closed behind huge pink sunglasses I was able to admire her small perfectly-formed breasts and pert little nipples. I recalled her telling me in one of her early emails that she had never had to wear a bra. I stood before her in my jeans and T-shirt, slowly stroking myself. She peeped over the top of her shades. "Good moring, sir. And how are we feeling today? Perky already by the looks of it!"
"Fine, thanks. You?"
"Good, thanks, though I need to get some sun."
"Well, we also need to get some food supplies pronto, if we're not going to starve to death in this garret. I'm going to take the vaporetto to the Rialto Market. It's always a good idea to get there early for the best fruit and veg."