Staring at the ceiling Thursday morning, I was hungover and annoyed since this wasn’t my ceiling. I must stop letting myself getting talked into things. Not that it wasn’t enjoyable, but I didn’t have the time or energy right now.
Last night was a fantasy. I was briefly an Italian with an attractive man and lucky to be noticed. Like eating the most mouth-watering, flavor-packed slice of tiramisu dessert, you could imagine. But something you have once in a blue moon. And not something I’d ever attempt to make at home or believe I could since it would never measure up. That summed up Matteo.
Matteo was lying on his side with his back towards me. His back was beautiful matching the rest of him. He reminded me of the Roman statues I’d rushed by at the museum on Saturday. But he wasn’t missing his penis or anything else. I could confirm everything was there. I’d become familiar with every inch of his body. Matteo was built like a Roman god without any fat or loose skin. He must have superior Italian genes.
Last night after dinner, we returned to my apartment. I wanted to return the book I’d borrowed about clipper ships and show him why I was so excited about my trip. Showing him the clipper ship illustrations and trying to explain how it all works wasn’t easy after sharing a bottle of wine and drinks. When he saw the pictures, he wasn’t excited but warned me about the dangers at sea. How far I’d be from medical facilities or doctors on such a small ship and long journey. But I shrugged them off.
And then it happened. We kissed. Axel smiled down at us from his perch on the shelf, and I froze. Matteo convinced me to come upstairs to his place. He probably wasn’t comfortable under Axel’s watchful eye either.
When we got to his apartment, we were laughing, and I bet the Roman god of wine named Bacchus was too. Matteo picked me up and carried me over the threshold into his apartment. Like newlyweds, which we weren’t, and I had no intention of ever being again, but I didn’t care. I was floating on air after being charmed all night, and what must be a primal desire pulled me to him. I was intoxicated, not only from the wine but now that my cruise was a reality.
The only disturbing part of the night was when he pulled a small case from under the bed and asked if I was interested in any of his toys. He had an array of colorful dildos, vibrators, and all sorts of sex toys. But when I glimpsed a pair of silver handcuffs, I shivered. Handcuffs weren’t toys, not after what I’d been through, and I started to leave. He sensed my fear and put them away while whispering reassurances and kissed me to convince me to stay.
My five minutes were up. I couldn’t lay here and re-live the entire night again, even if it was special. I’d do that later if, or more likely when, I was bored at sea. Matteo noticed I sat up and reached out to hold me in his arms wanting to cuddle again. I forced myself to ignore him.
“Morning, sleepyhead. I’ve got to get going. Go back to sleep.”
“Kat, don’t leave yet. What time is it?”
“About eight. I must go. Too much to do for my trip. I’m sorry.”
“One quick hug goodbye, please Kat.”
I wanted to, but he may not limit it to a hug.
“And you’re leaving me. I may never see you again.”
“I’ll be back in January.” I slipped on my underwear.
Matteo’s eyes looked sad, and he was right. I may never see him again. He explained last night his work might last about a year. He was on a special visa with grants supporting him, and when the money ran out, he’d have to return to Milan.
I leaned over to hug him and touched his skin. He was still naked under the sheet. His skin was soft but firm. He kissed me still tasting of red wine and garlic.
“Bad breath, I know. I’m sorry.” But he ignored my apologies, and his tongue searched and found mine.
“Mine’s the same.” He kissed me more passionately, this time, moving down uncovering my breasts. “Was it as good as you remember?”
“What do you mean?” I was annoyed with his implication that I’d stayed chaste for him.
“Well, I heard you hadn’t had sex for a while, and I’m glad to be the one.”
“What? Who told you that? And whoever did is wrong, I’ve had sex.”
I couldn’t believe he’d said something so personal and rude. He lifted his head up, and I quickly put my legs together blocking access.
“Ah, I know, you have with me.” He rested his chin on my stomach and looked me with sleepy but kind eyes.
“No, someone else, before.” I didn’t want to argue or explain I’d had sex the night before with Greg. My dry spell was a long time, and I didn’t want him to think I was desperate and sleeping with anyone.
“Oh, good. How was it?” He asked reminding me of his doctor-patient questions yesterday.
“Fine, but it’s none of your business.” I pushed his head to the side and looked around for my underwear again. Finding them under the sheets, I slipped them back on and stepped into my jeans before he got any more ideas.
He rolled over on his stomach propping himself up on a pillow watching me.
“Touchy. Doesn’t sound like it was that good. No fuochi d'artificio?”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by this. I pulled my knit top over my head. He rolled over onto his back and was opening and closing his fists and making popping noises like a game of charades.
“Do you mean fireworks?”
“Yes, fireworks. Exactly.”
“Well, no fireworks.” I sat on the bed to pull on my boots. I could tell Matteo was dying to hear more. What the hell, I can be honest.
“He didn’t come.”
“Didn’t ejaculate? Oh no. How disappointing,” he said chuckling.
“Not for me. But he wasn’t happy about it.”
Greg was frustrated and apologized even though I said it didn’t matter. The alcohol from the ball didn’t help, and we were both tired. He’s old and probably in his sixties. But at least, he didn’t need Viagra.
“Oh. I can only imagine. I’ve never had that happen. At least not yet.” He looked down at his penis as he lay there in the full Monty pose. “Poor man, but at least there are medical treatments to help.”
I didn’t want to tell him more personal details about Greg or my limited sex life.
“Is he your boyfriend? I didn’t know you had one.”
“No. A close friend.” Greg’s style included nothing oral but kisses in expected places without any supplemental toys or games. Plain, straight, simple, vanilla sex. Matteo would call it boring. He probably found sex with me dull after I refused to play with his toys. I wouldn’t be here right now if Greg were my boyfriend. Didn’t he realize I couldn’t be unfaithful?
“Kat, please, come back here. I want to give you some more … what did you call it?”
He motioned by closing and opening his fists in the air again.
“Fireworks?” Even though he was the best lover I’d ever had, I didn’t have the time.
I leaned down to give Matteo a quick goodbye kiss, and he said something in Italian in my ear. I had no clue what he said. It should be ‘to get my fat ass out of here.’ But whatever he said, it was a devilish trick, and I was under his spell again.