A Fairytale in Venice

[MissVictoria]

OOC: This is a closed thread between Ariosto and I, but you are welcome to read!
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She had heard long ago that the waters had been contaminated, and that Venice was a dirty, stinking and ruined dream- but as Victoria passed her days in the fairytale city with its gold streetlamps and impressive architecture, with its dizzying array of art, and the market stalls set up everywhere, Venice itself came to seem a rainbow swirl of colours to her. They had been wrong, and now here she was. Her Nebraskan farmhome resolved itself into a dark mist that receded farther and farther with each passing minute, until she remembered almost nothing of it, the way she remembered only shreds of dreams upon waking.

The light in Venice was clear, soft and muted- mystical and romantic, especially the light in the mornings, just after the sun rose, and at night when decorative streetlamps, the oil lamps from cafes, and moonlight lit the way.

There was San Marco's Cathedral, overlooking the square, tall and everpresant, covered in rich mosaic. Inside it was just as fine, with candles to be purchased and lit, dark wood, a small display of rosaries for sale.

There was the Bridge of Sighs, along with the many other bridges, thick and sturdy, some plain, some decorated with elaborate stonework. Quite a few housed shadowboxes full of pink flowers that vined and drooped down.

There was San Marco's Square itself, wide and spansive, a museum to one side, open aired cafes and shops lining the edges. Pigeons scurried everywhere, vendors weaved amidst the crowds selling string bracelets, maps, portraits, postcards and roses.

She had paid 14,000 Lira for a cappucino this evening, so that she could sit out in the open air of San Marco's Square at a quiet cafe and watch the sun set over the water, not entirely distant. Only a sliver was viewable from where she sat, but the evening was pleasant, and there was a delightful trio playing music near her: a perfect combination of a violin, cello and piano.

She allowed herself to float with the music, staring off into the distance, her fingers lightly encircling her coffee mug. A slight breeze rustled her hair and she could smell salt and hear the pigeons rustling and settling, apart from the entrancing music.

An oil lamp was lit on her table in the darkening daylight, and the flame burned quietly, providing soft illumination. She was alone in a fairytale- but it had captured her so, that she was quite content.

 

[ariosto]

Venezia è una città molto romantica.

The voice was soft and right beside her.
She turned quickly and saw a man smiling at her.
A handsome man with long dark hair and beautiful hands. He was holding one out to her now.

La luce è bello...
His soft words tapered out when he saw that she was not comprehending them very well. He broadened his smile and took her hand drawing her up from the table.
She was startled at the strangers boldness and even more by her own reaction to it!
I said the light was beautiful. I said that Venice is a most Romantic city.

He was only a few inches taller than she but his grey blue eyes were commanding, his face something from a Renaissance painting she had seen and his voice was rich, deep and terribly magnetic. He spoke English with only the faintest trace of an accent. She wasn't even sure it was an Italian accent. Something...different.
He'd spoken English to her...!

How did you know I spoke English?!
He gestured towards her Frommers Guide which lay by the cappucino. His fingers were long and graceful there were traces of what...paint? against the nails, blues...some rose, some...

I saw your book. And besides, he grinned, white teeth against dark skin...
...besides you look like an American.
She stared at him blankly,
was that an insult!
He pulled her away from the table,
American women,he said,
Are the most beautiful in all the world.

Somewhat mollified she was about to ask if he were a painter, an artist, when he put a finger to his lips and said,
Listen...

A small group of musicians across the Piazza had begun to play a charming waltz and before she knew it Victoria was in the arms of the rash stranger and dancing through the starled pidgeons which rose like a burst of warm summer rain all around them.

 

[MissVictoria]

Whirled inside the vortex of pigeons, the air became clouded with rustling white and gray that briefly reminded her of snow- she noted this only briefly, before she allowed herself to be startled that she was suddenly dancing... even waltzing with the beautiful stranger. She did not know how to waltz. And perhaps that is what occupied her enough- following his lead- to not question the moment, and to let it encompass her.

It was something out of a dream. Never in her life had anything so extraordinary happened to her, and she held onto the sudden elation that this brought, until she thought that she would either burst of sensation, else wake up from a grand dream. Everyone else in the crowded square had ceased to exist.

 

[ariosto]

Late afternoon was turning into evening as they sat and drank their coffee together. They didn't dance again but listned to the sweet music as they talked and learned about each other...
He guessed that she was from Kansas...
"Close, Nebraska!"
He laughed as though that was the most marvelous thing in the world.

"Have you ever been there?"
No he never had but he'd been close to it several times.
"Have you traveled a lot in the States then?"
She stirred her coffee and waited...

"I lived there , for many years while I was growing up."
That explained the near perfect English.

She touched his hand and left her finger there.
"A painter?...You are an artist?"
"Oh yes! I paint Michaelangelos!" he laughed.
She was puzzled,
"You mean that you paint like..."

He took her hand in his and kissed her finger tips.
"No Victoria, I work as a restorer. I work in the Sistine now."
Here eyes grew wide.
"On the cieling, you..."
"Shhhh I will tell you all that in a minute...Now shut your eyes ."

Just as she had let herself so willingly be taken dancing by this stranger she now did as he told her without question
He took her hand in his and opened her palm. She felt a small cascade of hard round things fill it.
"Stand and hold out your hand."

She did, and was instantly assailed by the soft strokes of wings and the cry of the pidgeons as they landed on her arm and swooped low around her to claim the peanuts in her hand. Her eyes opened and beyond the wheeling fluttering veil of diving birds she saw Ariosto, for such was the name he gave her, smiling broadly in the low soft light of the evening. The golden rays of the sun turning him into bronze.

 

[MissVictoria]

He was the most fascinating thing in Venice.

I laughed outloud as hordes of pigeons flocked around me, cooing loudly and scurrying about. Through the midst of the feathers I could see him smiling a strange little smile- a smile that seemed to enjoy seeing me this way; an almost insistant smile; a smile that was beguiling.

I could feel my heart fluttering like the tempest of pigeons around me.

What was it now, about his eyes that reflected the sunlight and caused them to stand out from his other darker features? The sun had turned his skin the most perfect bronze, and his dark hair framed his face like something from a renaissance painting- but now it was his eyes that were upon me, and they seemed otherworldly, apart from his body. It is amazing how one pair of eyes can regard you so completely...

I felt my hand lowering. I felt the remaining peanuts drop to the ground, and was vaguely aware of the scuffle of birds at my feet. A pigeon flew between us, but our gaze did not waver.

Ariosto.... like the poet. I wondered if it was his real name. How I wished my name was something as intruiging- I wanted him to be as captivated with me, as I was finding myself to be with him.

I dared not move, with the pigeons at my feet- but in my mind, my lips were already exploring his naked flesh. I had already torn off his clothes in the busy piazza. His strong hands were exploring me, his kisses hard and hot.

From three feet away.

 

[ariosto]

For a number of years he had taken advantage of tourists in one way or another and when he'd first come over to Victoria it was with the idea of a quick but impressive tour of the City tourists don't usually see, followed by the grateful girl's sexual favors for an unspecified period of time.
But her utter trust and naive acceptance of all he offered disarmed him and he found himself wanting to invest more time, a great deal more time, in making her happy than as a selfish means to an end.

"Victoria,"
He said as the last of the pigeons departed in search of greener pastures, "How about a gondola ride to my part of town and I'll take you to a restaurant that is the hidden gem of Venezia!"

In the gently rocking boat it seemed the most natural thing in the world for his arm to slip around her shoulders and their thighs to closely touch.
He felt not only her joy at seeing the lovely city slide slowly into the lamp lit evening as they glided along the water but also a tense expectancy. He hoped he'd guessed the reason for it correctly as he leaned close and kissed her softly on the nape of her neck.
Do you mind?"...he whispered. hot breath against her skin...
His other hand touched the smooth skin just above her knee...

 

[MissVictoria]

The gondola slid silently through the inky black waters, that reflected the streetlamps above. There was no noise but the slight stirring of waters, a drip from an overhead bridge, and the occasional distant call of 'OY!', as the gondola drivers notified others of their presance.

She felt her skin jump in delight as her strange companion shared the close space, brushing his hand across her back, encircling her with one arm, his clothed thigh leaning against her own naked one, in her short summer dress.

The moon was overhead, and below in the water. She felt him moving her long hair to one side, then moving the tiny hairs underneath, meticulously, with his fingers. And his lips upon the back of her neck.

Now a jolt of electricity, and the tingling remnants as he whispers so very close, 'Do you mind?'

She felt unable to speak. His hand was upon her knee. So she remained, frozen, hoping he did not hear the breathy gasp she had produced moments ago. And she wished.

Wished with all her being that he wouldn't stop.

 

[ariosto]

Vittorio had carried Ariosto as a passenger from this same landing to his home many times before. Often with a young American companion. The two men were friends enough that the gondolier looked the other way when it seemed apropriate to do.
As was the case now as Ariosto tilted Victoria's head back and kissed her. He felt her hand come up to touch his cheek as the kiss began to linger and deepen. He brushed her lips with his tongue tentatively and recieved a positive response which was interupted by shouts from another Gondola bearing a colorful party of young couples which was heading back for the square.
They waved and shouted greetings at Ariosto which he returned with laughter and smiles.

"You know a lot of people."
Victoria said leaning up against him.

He hugged her close and kissed her again, his hand finding the same warm place it had enjoyed a moment before.

"You are cold!...such a dress! It can be cool in Venice at night."

"I'm not cold. Your hands are hot."
She grinned up at him and he slid his hand a few inches higher.

"Carissima you make them so."
He was leaning down for another kiss when the gondola bumped into a landing.

"Santa Elena, Ari..."
Vittorio stepped onto the dock and gave Victoria a hand as she climbed from the boat.
Ari lept up after her, clapped his friend on the back and gave him a friendly hug instead of the usual lira.

Victoria was looking around the small dark square with a growing sense of aprehension.
Something told her this was NOT tourist country.

 

[MissVictoria]

The square was dark, and certainly lacked the luster that was to be found in the more accessable areas of watery city. Here, the air was silent and moss grew at the edges of the brick pathways. The shadowboxes held vegetation that might have seen better days, and pigeon waste and feathers had not been neatly sprayed away from the brick.

Victoria watched as the man kicked at a metal tab on the ground, and the gondola driver slid silently away into the still black waters, lost in the approaching fog. She shivered once more, wishing that she had dressed more accordingly, but trying to appear as if she payed the cool mist no heed.

She was nervous, certainly, alone on the strange square with the dashing man, seemingly not a soul in sight. But she heard faint music in the distance, and against her better judgement she trusted this Ariosto and was held slightly in thrall at the way that he had suddenly swept into her life, turning parts into a glistening fairytale.

She saw out of the corner of her eyes as she perused the square, that he was watching her. Blushing faintly she realised that his eyes had wandered to her breasts, and she could feel that her nipples had hardened in the cool air and the excitement of the night. She brought a hand to her neck and rubbed the side, glancing over to him and smiling slightly when his eyes politely averted and then returned. As she brought her hand downward it grazed over her nipple, which began to ache for touch, and a small noise rose in the back of her throat, which she promptly cut off.

Instead, she took a step forward, standing close to him. He was a stranger, and yet he was her only protection here.

"Where are you taking me, then?" She asked softly, afraid to speak into the silent air.

 

[ariosto]

He slipped his arm around her waist and drew her to him.
You see over there?
He pointed at a warm window glowing from across the square in the purpling twilight.

That is Mario's. He makes the best food in Venezia and its not priced for tourists. I eat there. but....
He turned her towards a tall old building leaning precariously over the canal's edge and pointed at a shuttered window on the third floor.
But...that's my room up there and I have some good wine. Wine from the country, from a vinyard I know. We could share a glass before dinner perhaps....

He left the choice hanging in the dark salty air between them.
His arm had drawn her against him. their shoulders, hips, thighs touched. She could hear him breathing, steadily deeply. She looked up into his eyes. They were veiled in shadow but there was a twinkle in them hard to resist.

A decision...

The old wino Banelli watched Ariosto lead the pretty American girl into the tenement's arched doorway and waited for the light to go on in the third floor window. That Ariosto, he chuckled. Oh to be young again.

 

[MissVictoria]

He recognised that she was from a small town and shouldn't know better, Victoria realised.

But if I do know better, then why am I about to say...

"The wine sounds wonderful." she stated softly. A slight breeze lifted the hem of her summer dress on its wing, and she pushed it down quickly. "And to be inside... the night is chill."

She took his arm, placing her hand over the top of his forearm. It was warm where their skin touched, and she could feel the brush of his hip and leg through the thin fabric of her attire. Despite the night her cheeks were growing warm, the back of her neck, her hand where it touched his skin. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest, excited, aching, aware of possible danger.

Her breaths were shallow, she was afraid to breathe too deeply, to make too much sound. In silence, they began walking once more, their footsteps echoing on the brick paved square, first once then twice, mingling with the strains of far off music.

 

[ariosto]

The apartment was dark...all things were shadow shapes. Across the room she could see some fragments of the darkening sky through the many panes of the old windows.
He shut the door quietly behind her. She was so aware of his presence that it was hard to think of anything else.
His lips touched the nape of her neck, brushing across, warm breath stirring her hair.
She felt a touch close to her knee and she knew it was his hand reaching low and sliding up the smooth skin of her thighs carrying the light dress with it. He didn't stop but continued up the curve of her ass until her skirt was gathered at the small of her back.
Victoria leaned back against the broad hardness of his chest. She felt his heart pounding fast as was her own.
His thumbs hooked into the waist band of her panties and he slid them down along her legs until they lay around her ankles...

Then he stood up behind her and slid off his pants and shorts. He'd been erect for some time anticipating this moment and was ready and aching.
He raised her skirt once again and pressed his rigid cock into the cleft between her firm rounded cheeks...pressing and rubbing. Pressing and rubbing...

 

[MissVictoria]

There was the street, the darkness, then the apartment and the shadows around her. She briefly had time to recognize that it looked exactly as she expected it to, and then all thoughts were pushed aside as his presance swept over her, and her senses tantilized.

There was the tug of her dress at the small of her back, and then her panties slid slowly down her lean legs, constricting her ankles as her legs spread slightly.

Firm friction, and then the delicious touch of his rigid member coming close, parting the pleasant roundness of her ass and exploring the realms within. His manhood slipped from her pink rosebud to the tender outreaches of her wettened pussy, sliding her juices up and down, teasing and reaching, divine torment.

Instinctively she pressed back toward him, moaning and aching, her legs spreading further, her panties cutting even more into her ankles, but she didn't care.

 

[ariosto]

A crescent moon was setting outside.

Ariosto's hands were cupping her breasts, squeezing them gently...from the piazza below they could hear music drifting up...a concertina, a woman singing...
He pushed her forward a few feet and Victoria braced herself against the high back of an antique chair when she felt him pressing hard against her sex.
She gripped the warm wood tightly and opened her legs a bit more. His hands caressed the backs of her thighs then palmed and spread her cheeks. His cock slid between her lips, moving back and forth, the pressure increasing, opening her more and more each time.
He mumbled something in Italian as he leaned against her back.

Yesssss...yessssssssssss, It didn't matter what he was saying...yessssss do it...do it...

He tensed his calves and thighs powerfuly thrusting into her. The tightness and warmth of her passage was delicious...inch by inch he savored the sensations. Inch by inch he drove inside her...deep, deeper as the night itself deepened outside the windows.

 

[MissVictoria]

The perfume of her sex drifted on the breeze from the open window, to mingle with the sounds of the piazza below... there was no question that she wanted him. It was dark, but she wouldn't have it any other way- she could see the moonlight catching in her hair as it swayed from the motion of his thrusts.

I am... oh god... he.... him... the music... the... ohh godddd...

She felt her breath catching in the back of her throat, the pitch of her breathing increasing, and she supported his weight on her back as he leaned over, pressing into her.

She felt herself moving forward, her knees wanting to give out, the smooth leather of the chair catching against her forehead, the entire chair scuffing against the wood floor and sliding with a clunk.

One hand reached back for leverage, gripping the hard roundness of his rear, fingers straining, pressing backwards... wanting more... more...

 

[ariosto]

He held Victoria's hips tightly and thrust himself into her. She was tight as a virgin and he had to use a great deal of strength to enter her each time. He wondered if he was hurting her...
"Don't move." he whispered in the darkness.

She felt a sudden loss as he slowly pulled out and then his hands were gripping her thighs and she felt his tongue licking her. Long warm licks that slid between her swollen lips and then paused to work against her clit.
Over and over he repeated the stroke and she felt herself getting wetter each time.
Then his tongue was snaking into her...impossibly deep it seemed. She tensed up and gasped. He felt her bracing her legs and pushing backwards onto his face as he probed yet deeper.
He took her clit between fingers and began to rub as he sank his long tongue time after time into her loosening passage.
Ariosto had left one hand free and was stroking himself as he buried his face into her sex.
In another minute or so she'd be ready...

 

[MissVictoria]

She suddenly found his tongue filling her, an act she had never before experienced. She moaned her pleasure, envisioning how his face must look, digging into her most secret places. Then his fingers began to work, lightly tracing intricate patterns over her clitoris, and heightening her desire.

She moved her hips with his tongue, sinking back against him and wanting more... wanting him to fill her, wanting perhaps more than he could give...

 

[ariosto]

Long, slow, deep...then, quick light and teasing, he played with her sex. Working it with his tongue, feeling it moistening, tasting her arousal as it grew. His fingers never left her pearl, rubbing pinching moving it incessantly. He felt her shudder, felt her tensing up. Her hands were digging into the chair threatening to tear into the leather.
She was close.

He wanted to taste her orgasm, wanted to fill his mouth with it and he went after it.
Curling and twisting into her, he was a snake, a curling pink tipped cock licking it's way to the center of her soul.
Faster faster played his fingers across her clit...

Another intense shudder, her knees buckled , he caught her, held her up and pushed his face into her sex as far as it would go and felt her hot release flood into his mouth. His hands slid up to her hips and with the nectre still gushing he slipped his mouth away and thrust his cock into her again.
She gasped and cried out as he drove again and again into the midst of an orgasm that seemed to be going on forever.