tagErotic CouplingsItalian Ice

Italian Ice


Anthony was working the counter when she came in. She was precisely the reason he'd opened his little shop in this neighborhood. She was well-dressed in a cream colored blouse that looked like silk and a pencil thin grey skirt. She carried a briefcase, but more importantly, she carried an air of professionalism and money. This neighborhood could afford to splurge on the best gelato in town.

He watched her approach the counter on mile high thin heels and only glanced away at the shout from the back corner of the shop. His nephew Carlo and his friends were playing a game on one of the laptops Anthony had added for customer convenience. Carlo was supposed to be working the counter, but with business slow like today, he didn't really need Carlo and the kids were less of a bother with Carlo.

Anthony turned his attention back to the woman, taking a moment to appreciate the sleek style of her dark brown hair, drawn up to a tight swirl and secured with pins that sparkled of diamonds. Her blouse was high at the neck, but clung to full breasts, draping over her sweet curves until it tucked in at her waist. She had set the case down and her arms crossed at her chest, unconsciously plumping her breasts. She was biting her lower lip, her wide brown eyes focused on the flavors in his cold box. He felt a stirring at the picture she made - especially her full red lip caught in her perfect white teeth - and ordered his cock down. Customer, he reminded it sternly, buying gelato. But the concentration on her face had him imagining her kneeling before him with an identical look just before she slid her hands over his cock.

Back to work, he ordered himself. She hadn't moved, so Anthony softly cleared his throat. She glanced up and gave a hesitant smile. "So many to choose from," she said, her voice lightly accented with something European.

Anthony returned the smile. The selection was something he prided himself on. "We have twelve flavors today," he said, waving a hand along the counter, "Can I offer you a taste?"

"Oh, yes, that would be wonderful," she answered, hesitating again before pointing a long elegant finger at the third flavor. "This says saffron," she said, "I'm curious. It's a beautiful color, but I've never had saffron unless it was savory."

Anthony reached for one of the mini spoons and opened the case. He took a small sample and lifted it to offer it to her. She took it and gave a small lick. Anthony focused in on her lips, her tongue darting out, and held his breath as she smiled and slid the small spoon between her lips with a little sound of pleasure. She pulled the spoon out slowly, swirling her tongue over the tiny bowl, her eyes on his. His groin tightened as he imagined feeding her gelato naked. "Oh, that's divine," she said, "Can I have one more taste?"

"Absolutely," he answered, his wide smile masking the ache below his belt. She could have as many as she wanted if she'd just lick that spoon like that again.

"I have a weakness for chocolate," she confessed, her hand waving a little, telling him she normal spoke with gestures. He could appreciate that - his mama was Italian and you often had to duck when she was worked up. "This chocolate looks rich, but it says cinnamon as well..."

Anthony reached in to get a sample. "I think you'll find it's a good combination," he said, offering another small spoon. She used her tongue more this time, not slipping the spoon into her mouth, and he visualized that tongue licking his bare skin, training down to his...God, he had to stop this or he'd go mad, he thought.

"Mmmm," she murmured, her eyes closing in pleasure. Anthony stepped closer to the counter to disguise the growing bulge in his slacks. "Oh, that is a good combination," she sighed. She bit her bottom lip again and he had to fight a groan.

"Any more tastes," he asked.

"No...," her voice seemed breathier, lighter, "I think I'd like a scoop of the chocolate cinnamon." She looked up at him, "In a cone." He hardened at the thought of her licking a cone, but moved to put her order together. Just as he handed the cone over the counter, the teenagers ran by on their way out of the shop. One jostled her arm, another bumped her, and suddenly the gelato fell onto her blouse and then the floor.

"Oh no..." They both said it at the same time. Anthony was torn between embarrassment at the accident and anger at the teens. He turned and pointed at Carlo, who stood still and pale, obviously knowing he was going to take the brunt of the punishment. "Work the counter," Anthony ordered, "No more games."

As Carlo hustled behind the counter, Anthony came out to the front. "Let me clean this up," he said, taking her arm gently, "Please send me the cleaning bill. Or, better yet, please purchase a new one and send that bill as well."

"No, no, it was an accident," she answered, staring down at the dark stain. Her accent deepened with her distress. She looked up at him. "If you have some place I could wash up," she started.

"Yes, sure, anything," he answered, then forced himself not to babble, "Please, let me show you into the kitchen. I'll get a mop and clean this up..." He waited a moment while she picked up her briefcase, then guided her around the end of the counter and through the door to the kitchen. She looked around in interest and set her case on the spotless metal table next to the sink. "I'll be right back," he said, grabbing the mop and bucket from beside the door.

Anthony glared at Carlo as he cleaned. Carlo was busy wiping imaginary spots from the counter, wishing he was invisible. "Listen," Anthony started.

"I know, Uncle Tony," Carlo burst out, "I'm so sorry. Take it out of my pay. Just don't tell Mama. She will kill me."

Remembering the last time he'd pissed off his baby sister Carla, Anthony had to bite back a smile. He could imagine her wrath, the torment she'd plan for her oldest son. "I won't tell her," Anthony said sternly, "But no more friends while working."

"No. I'll tell them to stay away," Carlo promised, crossing a hand over his heart, "I won't mess around anymore."

"Okay," Anthony conceded, knowing it wasn't the teen's fault, "Wash the windows and work the counter if anyone comes in. I'm going to see what I can do for our chocolate coated customer."

"Sure." Carlo grabbed the glass cleaner and rag from under the counter and hurried around to the front.

Anthony hid another smile as the boy scrubbed at the glass. He took the mop and bucket back through the kitchen door - and stopped dead in his tracks. The door swung shut behind him as he stared at the woman's naked back. She was turned away from him, bare to the waist, running the blouse under water. He couldn't move, couldn't speak as his eyes trailed down her creamy skin to the top edges of a swirl of tattoo at her low back. His mouth went dry and his eyes shot up to the mirror over the sink, meeting hers in the reflection.

Neither moved until she smiled. She dropped the blouse in the sink, turning off the water, then reaching around her back. She undid the skirt, letting it slowly slide to the floor. Anthony's cock nearly ripped through his pants as his eyes traveled down, over the intricate tattoo to firm bare ass cheeks and down long pale legs. She wore only thigh-high stockings and those killer heels, her pussy exposed as she bent to step out of the skirt and pick it up. She placed it beside her briefcase as she turned, giving him a full on view of firm full breasts and - God help him - a small heart shape of curls above her shaved pussy lips.

"Chocolate makes me so...aroused," she smiled, sauntering towards him. He finally had the presence of mind to glance back and make sure the door was closed. He wouldn't want Carlo...She slid her hand over his chest. "The accident was a...a perfect opportunity," she purred, sliding her hand down to stroke over the bulge in his slacks, "I need you."

"I...we...I," he stammered, caught between vicious desire and propriety.

"Come now," she laughed softly, her fingers unsnapping his fly, "I saw it in your eyes as you served me gelato. You want me too." Her hand slid into his pants, finding him hard and bare. "Another who doesn't like to wear undergarments," she smiled, stroking his rigid shaft, "It means you're always ready for a little..."

"We can't," Anthony managed. It was his store. If anything happened in the store, he needed to be available. He was the manager. He groaned as she gave his cock a gentle squeeze.

"Are you afraid the boy will catch us," she murmured, curling her hands in the waist of his pants and dragging them down as she sank down. Her legs were spread wide as she squatted before him and he caught the scent of her arousal. It only tightened his groin more. "Let him." She smiled again, sliding her long fingers over his thighs, lifting his polo shirt to brush her lips over his belly. His cock pressed her chest and he groaned again.

"I'm the manager," he tried one last time, catching her hands before they could touch his cock. He needed to stop...God, he needed her.

"I can't leave yet," she whispered, blowing lightly on his cock head where it bobbed before her face, "My blouse is wet." She leaned forward to give his head a lick and he trembled with need. "I'm wet," she looked up at him, the concentration he'd seen earlier weakening him. "I'm all but dripping for you." Her voice was smooth, seductive, her accent thickening. He thought of Italy, vibrant colors, hot summers, lust. One sharp tug and her hands were free to cup the base of his penis, to stroke his thick shaft.

"Please..." Anthony groaned as his head fell back, his penis aching for more, her long fingers wrapped around him, squeezing rhythmically. "Oh, yes...yes." She held him up to his belly and lowered her head to lick, starting at his balls and stroking to just under his head with her tongue. Again and again she teased him and he rocked towards her in need.

"You taste so...Italian," she smiled, lowering his cock to swirl her tongue around his head, teasing his slit with the tip. "The hint of garlic is bred into the skin," she murmured, holding his cock as she leaned forward and bit the tender skin where his hip met his thigh. His groan was low and hoarse, coming straight from the gut. "Very tasty," she whispered, returning her attention to his cock. He'd begun to ooze precum and she licked the bubbles like she'd tasted his gelato, the tip of her tongue darting between her lips.

"Anthony," he managed, closing his eyes as his whole body throbbed, "My name is Anthony." Her tongue swirled his tip again before she slid his head between her lips. He forced his eyes open, looked down, and all the blood drained to his groin. She was all but naked before him, her red lips wrapped around his thick penis, her fingers stroking up and down his shaft - his earlier fantasies didn't come close. She pushed her mouth down and he watched in fascination as his length disappeared into her mouth. Deeper, she took more, more, and he groaned as she swallowed his entire cock. She slid back, his shaft wet and glistening now and then swallowed him again.

He couldn't believe it, he thought as his head fell back and pleasure built in his belly. Here he was, in his shop kitchen, this beautiful naked woman giving him the best blow job of his life, and then he was going to fuck her. When he'd opened the shop, he'd never imagined this. He froze then, hearing voices through the kitchen door, and she let his cock leave her mouth with a pop that had his eyes crossing. "Oh, God," he groaned. If Carlo...the voices continued, but the door didn't open.

"Don't worry so much," she murmured, wrapping a fist around his cock, just under his head. He grunted as she gave him a firm squeeze. "So the boy sees you fuck me," she said softly, "He wants to fuck me too. You will be a hero to him." With that she wrapped her lips around his cock head and sucked hard. He grunted again, his hips jerking. The hand on his shaft pumped as she sucked, his cock swelling eagerly, his balls tightening in lust. Her lips glistened now as she teased him with her tongue, suction tightening her cheeks.

"Yes," he mumbled, "That feels so good..." She slipped her free hand under his balls, stroking him, squeezing him, and he groaned, shifting to widen his stance, to keep his balance as his world narrowed to the heat in his groin. She kept pumping, stroking, sucking and he rocked with the need to fuck her. His cock was harder than he ever remembered the throbbing almost visible as the veins bulged. "Please," he groaned, "I'm gonna cum..."

At his words, she popped his head out and shifted away from him, rising gracefully to her feet. "I want you to cum inside me," she demanded, hands on her hips, "Not in my mouth, in my pussy." His mouth watered at the sight of her, her creamy skin flushed, her body slender yet well-curved. He reached out and yanked her to him with an arm around her waist.

"Oh, you do," he grinned, sliding his hands down to cup her firm ass. Her heels made her almost the same height as him, aligning their sensitive parts perfectly. He rocked her hips against his, his cock against her belly, and savored the way she shuddered. "I can take care of that," he growled, burying his head in her neck, sucking, nibbling her skin. She moaned, sliding her arms around his neck and rubbing her body against his. His hands tightened on her ass before sliding to her hips and over her back.

"Yes...Oh, Anthony," she whispered as his hands cupped her breasts, squeezing lightly, enjoying the fullness that filled his palms. She arched to him in need. "Fuck me, Anthony," she pleaded.

"In time, sweet thing," he answered as he spun her around. She clutched at the table and he stepped out of his slacks, pressing himself to her from behind. He nuzzled the back of her neck as his arms wrapped around her, one hand cupping her breast, the other pressed low on her belly. "My way," he growled, nipping at her ear. He shifted his hand between her legs, cupping her, stroking his fingers over her soft, shaved folds. She was wet, hot, already and she whimpered as his fingers explored her.

"So tender," he murmured in her ear, loving the shiver as his warm breath teased her, "I've never felt a woman as bare as you before. Your skin is so smooth, so hot." She whimpered again as he pressed a fingertip between her folds and stroked the length of her slit. Her ass rubbed his groin and he shifted, his cock sliding against the crack of her ass, teasing her as much as his hand. "I can't wait to taste you."

"No tasting, just fuck me," she said, but there was a plea as well as an order in her voice. "Shove that cock up my hole, Anthony." Her voice was breathy, aroused, and he smiled.

His finger found her clit and she moaned. He rubbed her clit eagerly, enjoying how her hips rocked, his cock jerking as she ground herself against him. She was right, though. He wasn't going to last. "You win," he growled, swirling his tongue over her ear, her neck, "Let me get a condom..."

She caught his arm as he shifted away. "Fuck me, Anthony," she whispered, "No rubber, no nothing, just your cock."

"If you want." He gave in easily, preferring sex without a condom. More sensations that way.

His hands settled on her hips as he dragged his cock head up and down her crack. She shivered violently and he chuckled. A slight tilt and his head was poised at her hole, his tip feeling the heat of her. "Fuck, baby," he growled, thrusting into her. Her hoarse cry blended with his groan as her pussy wrapped tightly around his penis. She was slick, her body on fire, and Anthony couldn't stop the bucking against her, his cock jerking back and forth inside her. She shuddered and he felt her juices envelope him.

"Damn, baby," he groaned, drawing back, looking down to see the cum glistening on his shaft. Juices oozed from her hole and his mouth watered again. He swallowed hard as he thrust in again and his dark red flesh disappeared between her pink pussy lips. He pushed until his entire shaft was inside her, his hips flush against her ass, and felt her inner muscles ripple along his length. She moaned again.

"Harder," she panted, "Fuck me harder, Anthony." He tightened his fingers on her hips and plunged his cock into her, driving again and again into her heat, hammering her cunt. "Yes..." she whimpered, widening her legs to tilt her ass up and open herself to him.

Sweat broke out on his skin as he thrust and released, pounding his cock into her like a piston. He widened his own stance to drive into her at a new angle and she cried out, one hand clutching the table edge as the other reached back and caught his wrist. "There," she gasped, "More." He grinned, pleased to be giving her as much of a rush as he was getting. His hands slid to grip her thighs at the junction with her hips and he bent his knees to hammer the spot she wanted.

"Oh my God," she cried, both hands gripping the table edge as she arched, as her body jerked with each thrust. Again, again, again, and she came hard, bending over the table as she gasped, her body clamping tight around his cock, then opening as her cum enveloped him and spilled over his balls. Anthony kept thrusting, panting as his cock swelled with seed, as his balls clenched. His jaw worked, his teeth grinding, as everything in his body tightened until he couldn't hold back the eruption. His cock pulsed, semen spurting inside her, as he groaned, shaking. Wave after wave of release went through him and out his cock until he all but collapsed on top of her.

It took minutes before he could move and slip his spent penis free of her wet embrace. She shuddered as he slurped out and turned around slowly as he stepped away. Anthony just stared. He couldn't believe...He fumbled around for his slacks, yanking them on over his nakedness. "I...we...you," he couldn't form sentences as he looked at her.

She smiled. "Very nice," she said, "I may come back again, Anthony." She caught the briefcase with one hand and then turned to flip it open. Inside was cloth and she shook out a light blue dress, then slipped it over her head. She tossed the grey skirt into the case, then moved to the sink to wring out her blouse. "That more than makes up for the blouse," she commented, tossing it into the case, then clicking it closed.

She faced him, all spring time and elegance, not looking like she'd just had wild sex in the kitchen of a gelato shop. "Better than my last client," she smiled again, sliding a hand over his cheek in affection, "But then I guessed that when I saw you. Tell your boy thank you. Otherwise, you could never afford me."

Anthony just watched, stunned, as she sauntered out. When he stepped back into the shop, she was gone, and a dark-eyed Carlo was watching him with a smirk.

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