Page 94 of Mafia Mistress

I moaned, rolling my hips.

His nostrils flared but he continued rolling the condom onto the dildo. When he finished, he crawled onto the bed. “Open your legs.”

I obeyed, but I asked, “Is this going to hurt?”

“Absolutely not.”

I doubted that, but I didn’t argue with him. He promised we could stop if I didn’t like it. “Okay, paparino.”

He froze, his lips parting in surprise as he looked up from between my thighs. “What did you say?”

Had the internet let me down? I’d searched for the perfect word earlier, when I woke up to use the bathroom. “Paparino. It means a daddy in the bedroom. Like, a benevolent older man that takes care of you. At least that’s what I was told.”

The translation hit a little close to what I’d been trying to avoid, that Fausto was my sugar daddy. I didn’t like how that made me feel outside the bedroom. But inside the bedroom, the name definitely fit him. Here, he could be my paparino.

“I know what it means. I just never…. Madonna, you surprise me at every turn. I like this name very, very much.” To prove it, he growled and buried his face in my pussy, eating me out with abandon.

My back arched, pleasure rocketing through me at lightning speed. “Holy shit,” I whispered, my fingers threading through his thick hair. He used his tongue on my clit, circling and flicking, until that was all I could feel. He was everywhere, surrounding me. The room fell away and all I knew was Fausto’s mouth driving me out of my mind.

Then there was pressure at my hole—but not the one I was expecting. He spread my legs wider, and I could feel the slick tip of the dildo as he used gentle pressure, circling the tight ring of muscle no man had ever breached. He didn’t push, however, just massaged, and my body eventually relaxed, loosened up, until he was able to slip it inside.

I gasped, unsure about this invasion. It didn’t hurt, but it was strange.

“Relax. This is not as thick as my cock, and you will need to take it all first. Let me stretch you out.” He returned his lips to my clitoris, suckling on the little bud, and I could feel him working the dildo deeper. It was so much sensation, but it all felt amazing.

“Hold behind your knees,” he told me as he shifted. “Lift your legs.”

I did as he said, and the dildo slid in even more. “Oh, fuck,” I moaned, the orgasm gathering in my spine and toes.

Still, he didn’t rush. Fausto was being very careful with me. His hand rocked back and forth, the slick toy tunneling deeper each time. Soon I was meeting his thrusts, needing more than he gave me. I was so close to coming, my thighs shaking. My mouth hung open, my entire world suspended as what I needed remained just slightly out of reach.

Then his hand met my skin, the toy as deep as it could go.

The fullness. Oh, God. So dirty. I needed more.

Suddenly, it was too much. I came hard, my shout echoing in the room as I bucked and rocked under his mouth and hands. It was more intense than anything I’d ever experienced, my lower half clenching around the toy inside me. I loved it.

When the pleasure ebbed, I started to drop my legs. Fausto came up on his knees and kept my left leg in the air, still holding the long toy with the other. “Stay,” he said. “I am not done with this ass.”

To prove it, he fucked me with the toy, his mouth glistening with my arousal. His bright gaze followed the movement of the toy, his skin flush with lust. “Yes, you like this, don’t you? You need a big cock in your ass, no?”

I licked my lips, my chest heaving. How was I so turned on again, immediately after having an orgasm? I whispered, “Only if it’s yours, paparino.”

Cursing, he removed the toy and tossed it onto the floor. Then he flipped me in one motion onto my stomach and pulled me to the edge of the bed, with my legs dangling over the side and onto the floor. He grabbed the lube while he stepped between my thighs, spreading me wide. “I cannot wait to be inside this tight little hole.”

I heard him slick up his cock then felt the tip of him at my back entrance, circling as he’d done with the toy. Several seconds later the head popped inside. I hissed through my teeth. “You said it wouldn’t hurt.”

He stroked my back, petting me. “That is the worst of it. Relax, baby.”

I liked hearing the English endearment from him. It was almost as sexy as when he called me “dolcezza.” The burn ebbed and again I was left with fullness. Fausto began moving then, slowly pressing forward, rocking back and forth, while he reached between us to stroke my clit. My whole body tingled as he stretched me out. I panted, a light sweat breaking out on my skin, but there was no pain. Just a pressure that I couldn’t tell if I liked or not.

“You are being such a good girl,” he praised, smoothing his palm over my buttock. He straightened and grabbed my hips with both hands. “Look at you letting me inside. Sucking me in. Madre di Dio, it is the sexiest thing I have ever seen. Do you like it? Do you like taking your paparino’s cock in your asshole?”

God, his filthy, filthy mouth. When he talked to me like that I would do anything he asked. And he probably knew it.

He drove deeper, making me gasp. “Yes,” I whispered, dragging the word out on a long whine. “I like it very much.”

“My dirty piccola monella.” He gave a real thrust of his hips this time and it drove him all the way in, his hips meeting my asscheeks. “I knew you could do it. There, now doesn’t that feel good?”

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