Dolce Far Niente

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The sweetness of idleness is like most pleasures, typical in its brevity.


Izzy lay on the bed. The mattress was very comfy. The sheets smelled of fresh linen. There was no reason for her to get up. She could lie there for ages.

Maybe a few more minutes.

How long had she been lying there already?

She took a deep breath. A smile. There. She was perfectly content . She turned her head to look at her right. She wiggled her fingers. She blew at them, but hardly any air reached her hand, instead making the light hair on her arm shiver. It was a pleasant tickle. She did it again. She rested her head on her shoulder.

Izzy turned her head to look down at her body. She was wearing a pink silk robe that crossed at the front, forming a delicious cleavage between her supple breasts. She liked the look of her heavy breasts when she was on her back. There was something about that shape. She liked the bra. Should wear it more often.

She smacked her glossed lips. She loved the feel of her full lips pressing against each other. She pressed them together again, more slowly.

“Wish somebody else was pressing their lips against mine” she pouted, thinking.

She stretched her arms, tensing the muscles in her arms and back, and with one swift movement, she rolled onto her side bringing half of the soft sheet beneath her cover her. She brought her hands to rest under her head and after stealing a quick glance at the clock, she closed her eyes.


She took a deep breath. Her eyelids fluttered, attempting to open. She slowly breathed out.


She was staring at the clock in disbelief. No progress. What a disappointment.

There was no point in trying to pretend like she was enjoying lying on a bed doing fuck all except for trying to keep her mind vacant.

She turned on the TV, the radio and opened the curtain. She looked at the metal loops on either side of the window and decided to bother with tying the curtain.

Someone was speaking in a foreign tongue, more voices joining in, now chanting as another voice, male as well, was singing “Shawty had them apple bottom jeans (jeans)/Boots with the fur” to a hip-hop beat.

She began toying with her lower lip, pinching and twisting it. She slowly ran one finger across the soft flesh, slowly enough to memorise each dry groove, dipping slightly in the middle, at the natural curve of her lip.

Two men were now in a quarrel, shouting over each other. The third one had moved onto “next thing you know”.

Izzy raised one eyebrow, smiled and swaying her hips to the beat she sang out with him

“low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low”

She wished she actually had somebody to get low to. That man.

The way he held himself, the graceful, confident movements, the way he checked his cufflinks every ten minutes. And she stared at him long enough to see him do that multiple times. She could’ve been sat there on her own, in silence, with no company, just looking at him…

Like a damn bored fool.

“Hi, I hope such a fine gent like you isn’t here by himself”

“I am indeed” his eyes roamed all over her body. “And is this magnificent lady all by herself tonight because ” He paused to look into her eyes “I don’t understand how no man who has beheld you has not wanted to be your companion this” he slowly spoke “night”.

Izzy sat down in front of him.

“I can assure you, there has been plenty of wanting, but… not all who want can succeed in fulfilling their… wants”

His gaze moved from her eyes to her lips and lingered there before slowly moving back to her wide bright eyes.

“And is there joy to be had for any… one of those who desire?” his eyes seemed to flicker with dark desire in the soft candle-light.

“If… he who wants has the desire that is strong enough… then there is every chance for the joy to be had”

“Then…” his eyes fell on her cleavage and drank in the delicious sight with pleasure coursing through his body “may I have the opportunity to have… my own desire tested?”

Izzy burst into laughter and even snorted. She slumped on the vanity table and propping her chin on her folded hands, she looked up into the mirror. She widened her green eyes and they became almost circular. “What am I going to do with you?” She pressed her index finger to her he left eyebrow, smoothing it out, shaping it.

With a heavy sigh, Izzy got up and strode to the kitchen. She opened one cupboard and found it to be empty. The door slowly closed with not making a sound. Disappointed, she looked at a couple of others, but all she could find were some dishes. She opened the fridge. Its hollow insides lay illuminating empty shelves. She rapped the fridge door with her fingers and then closed it angrily. It defiantly took its time.

She looked out the window. Lights glimmered peppering the darkness of the city. She’d rather be there, in the buzzing and brimming lights of the city, even in the cold. Two girls walked past the building wearing sleeveless dresses. It can halkalı escort be ignored.

She dropped into a fauteuil and leaned back. With a glum look on her face, she watched the changing scenes on the TV screen, as a warehouse exploded and three men, defying the flames, were confidently striding towards the camera. She turned her gaze to look at the carpet.

Unlike boredom.

“Madam, the gentleman at the table by the window has asked to give this to you.”

A single A5 sheet of thick white paper, folded in half, was placed on her table. She took it in her hands and looked at the table. Four men in suits were sat in leather armchairs, enveloped in cigar smoke, nursing a bottle of cognac and talking. They laughed and she thought that one of them took a furtive look at her. She quickly diverted her gaze at the piece of paper.

She unfolded it and looked at the single inscription in black ink.


Izzy put it onto a plate that had remnants of chocolate mousse. She should’ve got a panna cotta. The mousse was always too sweet.

She felt eyes on her and immediately looked up. The men were consumed in a debate.

The mousse was too rich.

“A bottle of Perrier, please”

“Certainly madam” the waiter nodded, and after clearing the table, he walked off.

He was good-looking enough. Ordinary. A pleasant smile. Polite. But he gets paid for it.

She took a sip of the Perrier. She felt the refreshing sizzle of the bubbles on her tongue and smiled a little.

Neither of them looked exceptionally good. Not that she could make them out that well. They were more like hazy three-dimensional silhouettes. Expensive, but ordinary haircuts, clean-shaven faces and dark suits, almost disappearing in the dim-light of the room.




Three single digits in glossy gold colour. She raised her hand to knock and paused, listening out for footsteps or even voices. Silence. She knocked.

And the man that opened the door was him. The tall, dashing, standing-oh-so-close-to-her him.

“Hi” he said simply, with a smile spreading across his face. Izzy stood dumbfounded, feeling like a fool, shocked to see him. “Come in” he opened the door wider to let her in.

For a moment, she couldn’t move, just looking at his face. And what a face it was. It was well proportioned, with a patrician nose, and full lips, but his eyes were the most mesmerising part. They were of that grey-blue that can look so ordinary, but framed by those dark eyelashes, it was anything but. His smile turned lop-sided “Well?” he almost whispered.

She stepped into the room, brushing past him, feeling his solid frame against her side.

Blue. Gold. Green. Expensive. A fire-place with gold-framed mirror above it, a colourful and elegant flower arrangement on the mantle-piece. A four-posted bed peeking out from the bedroom.

“I saw you sneaking glances at our table and well” he came up behind her, handing her a flute of champagne “I was right”

“About what?”

“You’re interested” she felt his breath against the sensitive skin on the nape of her neck and couldn’t stop the shiver. She didn’t know what to say to that, this acute speechlessness irritating her.

“So what will it be?” he snaked an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. She could feel him. His lips just brushed against the same spot on her neck, and she longed for them to linger on it. She nearly whimpered when they left.

“What do you mean?” she almost breathed out.

“Clothes? Jewellery?” his lips brushed against her neck again, and that electric feeling was the only thing that she could concentrate on. “Cash even?” he whispered in a low voice, nuzzling her neck.

Clothes? Jewellery? Money? What was he talkin-

And then it hit her.

She spun from his embrace and walked back a few steps, sizing him up.

“What’s wrong?” he looked at her concerned.

He was what? 6 ‘ 3″? And looking at his figure, his shirt-clad torso, he was well built, probably the athletic type. Even though the few wrinkles and his hair, but especially the maturity in his eyes, told her that he was maybe in his early forties.

And she was young. Dressed in this expensive, revealing dress. In the room of a man she did not know.

How could she be so stupid? He was talking about paying her.

“I think there was a misunderstanding” she looked him straight in the eyes and put down the flute of champagne that she never got to taste. She started quickly walking toward to the door “I believe you had me confused with a call girl or whatever it is that they’re called these days” she grabbed the door handle, she wanted to get out of the room, from this man’s presence, she felt her skin heat “I hope you have more luck with someone who’s willing to sell their… services”

She pushed down, fully intending to leave, but felt her hand being jerked away from the handle, a strong hand gripping her taksim escort wrist. “Wait, wait, just wait. Don’t walk out like that!”

“Let go of my hand.” She was getting angry “There’s no reason for me to stay here”

“Can I just explain?”

She turned to look at him “What is there to explain? You wanted to pay for sex” she emphasised the last word and his grip tightened on her hand “but I’m not a merchant of it” Izzy looked at him with steely eyes, the look that she had practised so many times. He was supposed to get scared, that look was supposed to make him confused, a stance that seemed to conflict her previous docility, forcing him to back off.

Instead, he saw it as fire, flaring up to ignite him. He backed her into the door, slamming it shut with his free hand. “What-“

“I’m trying to say” he almost hissed, she was astonished by this sudden explosion of emotion and strength “what I’m trying to say is that I was willing to do anything to get you” he let go of her hand and pressed his body to hers, his hands coming up to her waist, caressing her through the dress, down to her hips, whilst his lips worked on her neck, placing tender kisses on it “if you were-“

“But I’m not” she managed to say barely above a whisper, not as angrily as she would’ve liked.

“You’re not, no” he was kissing his way down her neck to her shoulder

She brought her hands to his head and moved it away from her neck, to make him face her. She wanted to look into his eyes when she said that:

“My body is NOT for sale” he was looking down at her, with those beautiful enticing eyes of his and all she could think about was that she had yet to feel his lips on her own.

Fuck that! “He thought I wanted to sell myself!” her inner voice was screaming.

His lips spread into a lazy smile and he slowly shook his head, never taking his eyes off her “No, it is not”

His smile made anger shoot through her and she abruptly pushed him on his chest.

“Leave me alone! I must go!” the unexpected push made him stumble backwards a little and she used the space between them to point her index finger at him, accentuating her words:

“You- you do NOT get to assume that I sell myself and then expect affection from me!” She was now shouting, losing control over herself, irritated that this man who dared to assume, to assume that-

And she wouldn’t! She doesn’t! She never did!

But most importantly, she was getting hot over him! She was angry with herself for-

“Fuck you!” she screamed out “Fuck you and your kind!” she was breathing heavily and could feel her face heating.

And then she turned around and stormed out.

She couldn’t resist him. She could feel the wetness at the apex of her thighs. No! It was the boredom. She was almost running down the corridor to the lift.

She felt her wrist being grabbed, halting her.

“Fuck off!” she spat out, turning around, to look at his angry face.

“God, you swear so much!”

“No shit, Sherlock!” she couldn’t contain her anger “let go of my wrist” she was breathing heavily “you’re fucking bruising me, that’s abuse!” she could almost feel her heart pumping furiously.

At those words, he backed her into a wall, pressing his body to hers, his face contorting “Now you listen to me” his fingers were digging into her upper arms “You DO NOT swear at me!”

Only now was she realising how much taller he was than her. And bigger. And stronger.

“Or what? You’ll call me a dirty whore?” the bigger he seemed the more intent on attacking him with words she was.

“Will you just fucking listen to me?” his voice was rising “I was led to believe that you were a call girl by the people I was with! They told me… For fuck’s sake! They’ve seen you with businessmen!” his grip on her arms tightened even more as his face got closer to hers “That they shower you with gifts! Put you up in expensive flats! God, I” he paused to look straight into her eyes, to make sure that she was looking at his “didn’t, do NOT care and it seems like they had you confused with someone else”

Her face was expressionless. She was listening to the pumping get louder and louder, her chest rising and falling rapidly, greedily taking in as much air as possible. Her eyes were developing that burning sensation and the moisture was welling up.

She opened her mouth and she enunciated every word as clearly and slowly as possible:

“Fuck you”

Izzy was at a breaking-point and was about to spit at him and flee, but he got to her first.

His lips came crashing down on hers, his hands moving away from her arms to cup the back of her head so she couldn’t move away. His right arm dropped to her waist, to press her into him, make her feel him.

She didn’t know what to do, how to act. She could feel his length, pressing into her. He was relentlessly assaulting her lips, his tongue probing for entrance. But she couldn’t give in.

And then he did it. He slowly moved his hand down her lower back, to her butt and she şişli escort gasped, allowing his skilled tongue to enter her mouth. He was tasting her, drinking in the sweetness of her mouth. She tasted like the most luscious chocolate.

Conflicting emotions were raking her chest, battling inside her. She was lost in this kiss, her hands coming to his chest, but this time, to feel him, the firmness of his pecs.

“You taste like” he sucked on her lower lip, as if soothing her bruised lip and they both moaned as he whispered “chocolate”.

Her own tongue moved on its own accord and entered his mouth, mixing her velvet chocolate with his woody cognac. She explored his mouth, just as he just did hers, but more slowly, savouring the depth of the kiss.

All the while, his hands were slowly creeping up her body, and God, how he wanted to feel her skin, but he’d have to make do with the feel of her curves. Her dominance was making his mouth sensitive with this prickly sensation, especially his lips, the pleasurable tingles skittering down his body, to his throbbing member, the part of his body that was claiming most of his concentration.

She could feel his hands travelling up her body and then they landed on her breasts, finally giving attention to her erect nipples. As they teased and manipulated her ample flesh, he broke the kiss momentarily:

“Your breasts are just am-” his breath caught in his mouth as her hips involuntarily moved against his groin that was painfully growing with arousal. “God” he hissed “That was, uh, unexpected.”

Interpreting the movement as a sign of her last resistance crumbling, he grabbed her butt “wrap your legs around me, baby” and lifted her up. She complied and he groaned at the friction on his crotch.

As he started kissing her deeply, his hips began to move slowly, dry-fucking her, and only succeeding in making them both even more aroused.

“I think that we” god, she was so out of breath “we should take this somewhere more private” she looked into his lust-filled eyes and he nodded, smiling at her.

“Hold on to me”

He didn’t want to break the contact, so he carried her to his apartment, her slender legs wrapped around his waist.

“I’m Izzy”


“What do you do?”

“Does it matter?” he freed one hand from her back, to open the door.

She felt a pang in her chest. She shouldn’t have asked that. In any other situation… but not in these circumstances. She lowered her eyes and biting her lower lip she shook her head.

“I chase after stunning-looking young women” he said with a smirk. They were now in the bedroom, by his huge bed. As he slowly lowered her onto it, he added “and devour them” sealing the promise with a deep delicious kiss.

“God I want you so much” he groaned as he fit himself between her legs. He moved onto kissing her cleavage, and slowly lowering the straps of her dress. “Let me see them” he moved his hands to the top of her dress and impatiently moved it down, exposing her bra-clad breasts.

She looked at his eyes open wide as he took in her practically exposed orbs, the black ornamented net only teasing his imagination. He moved off her, offering her his hand. She took it, and he almost lifted her up “you’re wearing too much, baby” he whispered in her ear as he moved to nibble on her neck.

Her body was relaxing to the most indulgent sensations and god, how she loved his ministrations on her neck. Izzy wanted to feel him, more of him. As his hands moved to rid her of her bra and dress, she moved her hands to his shirt, trying to unbutton it and having hard time undoing every button. His lips were just too distracting.

She felt the clasp on her bra open and her breasts being freed from their confines. The dress followed her bra as it slid down to the floor.

He moved back to look at her.

His eyes were glazed over and his look was that of hunger. For her body. She moved towards him, but he stopped her:

“Just… I want to look at you” he seemed to find it hard to speak. She had the most beautiful figure that curved in every feminine way, the Hogarthian serpentine lines dipping at her waist and curving around her supple globes and shapely hips. And her crotch. She was wearing matching knickers, that had that floral ornamentation, giving him a shielded view of her pussy through the fine dark mesh.

Izzy was burning up, just standing there, looking at his tented trousers and him, gazing at her. She could feel her briefs getting soaked with her juices. He was taking too long.

“Nate” she moved to him. She stood on her tip-toes, taking off his shirt, she moved her lips to his ear and thought that she needed to inject a bit of speed into this “I want you to take me to that bed and” she slowly moved her hand down his firm abs, towards his groin, making him almost hiss at the sensation “fuck me senseless” she cupped his erection “burying him to the hilt in me”

She practically squealed as he picked her up and brought her to the bed, dropping her on it. She quickly unbuckled his belt, and pushed down his trousers, then boxers and gasped. He was impressive.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it” his deep voice rumbled in the silence of the room. He shook off the clothing, as she got rid of her last article of clothing and lowered himself on to the bed, on top of her. They now were both naked. Skin against skin.

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