Chapter 20: In Search of Relief
POV: Beatrice
It was early when the sun broke into the room, caressing my face and gently waking me up. The sound of Stefano's shower echoed off the wall, creating a morning soundtrack. As I tried to snuggle further into the crumpled sheets, I closed my eyes, wanting to drown out that sound, which curiously didn't exist two nights ago. Did he shower in his office when he had too much work to do, or when he decided to kill someone? I couldn't conclude, as I knew almost nothing about him except the quality of his touch. I didn't want to, but instinctively, my mind wandered to the shower stall, Stefano's eyes closed as the water fell over every part of his probably cracked abdomen, and then touched his large, thick member. I closed my eyes and remembered how he held my waist, as well as the feel of his lips on mine. It was pleasant, even too pleasant for a man I hated. My mind wandered to a place where the hatred for Stefano and the memory of how he fucked me were a toxic mix that consumed me. While I tried to ignore what was happening in the next room, I couldn't help the feeling that I was thirsting for relief that overwhelmed me. I touched my cell phone, opened the images, and looked for the naked photo of Andrea that he used to send me on days when he thought I had just gone to bed, when in fact I had just rung a man's doorbell. I used them when I didn't feel any pleasure in the bed of some old pervert who couldn't bear the thought of having me only as his companion. Unfortunately, I still had to do it, for myself and Davide. Looking at these photos used to turn me on a bit, although Andrea wasn't a flawless man when it came to sex, unlike the way he made me feel special. I watched him as I slid my hand from my waist to the end of my shorts, taking them off. I touched my damp panties and didn't have to pull them away to know that I was curiously totally wet. I slid my hand over the fabric, leaving the device aside, while the other lifted my blouse, touching my breasts, squeezing them just right, lifting them, circling them, the image of Andrea above me, his member fitting between my thighs, his hand on my hip.
In a matter of seconds, the image of the short man, his hands rather small, was transformed into the thick, rather rough fingers of Stefano, which were three times bigger than mine. I could still feel Stefano's tongue running across my breasts from five years ago. I pressed my sensitive spot, gasping at the sensation, remembering his fingers, feeling as if he brushed against it. I pulled off my panties, desperate for something more, turning to face the bed, my face against the pillow, my breathing irregular, as my hands descended to my vulva, the hairs growing back rubbing my skin like Stefano's trimmed beard used to do when his mouth was there. I spread my legs and raised my body a little, leaving my ass slightly tilted, sliding my finger between the lips of my soaked pussy. Instinctively, I moved my ass at the same speed as I slowly touched myself, in circular movements, my hot pussy contrasting with my cold skin. A low moan escaped my lips as I stopped to insert a finger into myself, missing the thickness and size of Stefano's member, that had consumed me, instigated me and taken me to unimaginable levels of pleasure, all in equal measure, like no one else had managed. I traced every inch of my entrance with my fingertips. I started a gentle back-and-forth movement, allowing the pleasure to grow gradually as I slid one finger in after the other. I increased the speed of the movements, intensifying the sensations, while my mind was lost in provocative thoughts, imagining what Stefano would look like naked and exploring, curiously, the beauty of his member, which I hadn't seen, only felt.
I bit the tips of my lips, trying to avoid another moan that begged to come out, louder, more intense. I was insatiable, my fingers were no longer enough, and I needed to touch myself. I rotated my body again, still thrusting a few fingers inside me, while my other hand went to my mouth, I wet it, sucking as I had sucked Stefano's cock into my throat, and soon I was touching my sensitive spot, aware of the sensation. I pressed there while circling quickly, my body arched, my eyes closed, my mouth opened despite the force I tried to put on my lips, and involuntary moans came out of my mouth. I pulled my fingers out, bringing them to my mouth, tasting myself, even though Stefano's taste was also clear in my mind.
Two strokes, that sound was enough to break my trance, to bring me back to reality, where I realized that I was touching myself while fantasizing about Stefano. I gave in to the impulse to remove my hands, although my desire to continue persisted, an urge that seemed uncontrollable. I took a deep breath, struggling to get back to my senses.
"Just a minute," I said to whoever was at the door, struggling to regain control of my breathing, aware of the need to contain myself. Seconds later, when I managed to put my shorts back on, but before I could run to the bathroom, wash my hands and open the door, it was opened by Stefano, who was standing in front of me, perfectly dressed, even without those formal pieces he used to wear, his brown eyes landing on the photo of my cell phone that I hadn't yet turned off, and then moving up to my face, as he leaned against the wall, arms outstretched.
"Stefano... What are you doing here?" I asked shrilly, breathing unevenly, swallowing as I stood up in a daze, my hair disheveled by the reflection of the mirror in the wardrobe, while I turned off the screen, holding it tightly in my hands.