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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 25, 2015 22:47:29 GMT -5
How could the hours pass so slowly? He'd barely slept, and he'd risen with the sun, and he wished terribly that he could have stayed in bed and passed the hours dreaming of Serafina. Pietro was full of nervous energy, and so horribly certain that she had woken up full of regrets. How could she not have? She was young and beautiful and brilliant and he was old, boring, violent ...
He tried to read, but his focus kept wandering. He tried to mark essays, but they were gratingly dull. He tried to sleep - he failed - he tried again - failed. He was frustrated and frightened and almost trembling with longing.
He smoked several cigarettes, tried to soothe his nerves with a glass of whiskey ... nothing worked, and when he finally heard the knock on his door, Pietro jumped. He took a final glance around the room; it was tidy and ready for company, just as always. Cigarette smoke lingering in the air, whiskey on his lips, Pietro opened the door and looked down at his visitor.
"Hello, Miss Latini. Please, come in."
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 26, 2015 1:01:40 GMT -5
Pretzels. Invented by an Italian monk in 610, they were created by folding strips of dough into what looked like the arms of a praying child... And oh, how much Serafina had prayed the night before and all throughout the present day.
After their evening at the bar and their short-lived moment of heat and bliss, Serafina had spent the majority of the day in her room. If she were being honest with herself, she had been sick most of it and tried to sleep as much as she could - usually only able to get about twenty minutes at a time. Her stomach was tensely knotted with nerves that she imagined it had aligned with her intestines to form a pretzel all its own, but as the time to go drew nearer and nearer, the more the began to regret it.
The hallways to the professors' living quarters was empty, and thank the Heavens for that. The papers were still clenched tightly to her chest just in case, and after knocking at the door, she almost felt like she could be sick again. What was she doing? He wasn't going to feel the same when she went inside. She was a about to be crushed, devastated, and torn to shreds. But as the door opened, she heard that sweet, sweet voice and knew she was going to have to face the music no matter the outcome.
Stepping inside, she gave a small, nervous smile to him and handed him the papers. "I know these were just for show, but I figured I should give them to you anyway," she said as a measly attempt at conversation before jumping into the emotional stuff. "You... You wanted to see me again? To talk?"
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 26, 2015 3:19:57 GMT -5
He closed the door behind her, turned the lock, and then found himself struck dumb. Fortunately, Serafina was speaking, and that at least gave him something to respond to while he desperately searched for the more important words. "Oh, yes. Thank you," Pietro replied as he accepted the papers and put them down on his desk. "I, ah ... I certainly appreciate your work. Yes, I want to talk to you. Ah ... would you like water?" His mouth was suddenly completely dry, his tongue like sandpaper, useless for creating any sounds other than meaningless croaks.
He poured two glasses of water, then turned back to Serafina and handed one to her. "Please, sit down," he offered, gesturing toward one of the chairs at the small table and seating himself in the other one. And then, for a moment, he just stared awkwardly at her before taking a sip from his water glass and clearing his throat.
Be a man, Pietro.
"Well, ah ... I have been reflecting on ... last night, as I'm sure you are aware. And, well ... I have admired you for some time, and while drink may have loosened my tongue, I stand behind everything I said. I have ... I just ... "
Another nervous gulp of water.
"I feel strongly for you ... about you ... well, both. And I hope you do not feel that I took advantage of you last night, because you would have every right to feel that way, but ... I must know if you still feel the things that you ... expressed."
Tongue-tied like a schoolboy. What a wonderful impression he must be making.
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 26, 2015 21:17:05 GMT -5
The way Serafina's fingers trembled was unnerving all in its own, but she accepted the glass of water with the steadiest hands she could manage. She took a small sip of it but felt immediately nauseous due to nerves, so she was relieved when he told her to take a seat. Getting off her feet would definitely help in this situation, so she gladly perched herself on the chair and looked across the table to him. He was just as magnificent - just as mesmerizing - as he had always been as she took him in as the man she had fallen madly in love with about three years prior. But what would come out of his mouth next was a complete mystery to her, so she found herself holding her breath subconsciously as she awaited his words.
To hear him tell her that he felt the same, though, and that he wasn't just confused the night before was absolutely mindblowing to her in that moment. Was this real? Was it serious? He wouldn't lie to her; he was far beyond that.
A bright smile lit across her face, and a deep longing spread out through her eyes. "You're... You're serious," she said quietly. But she couldn't even form words at this point, and she instantly set her glass on the table and got to her feet before closing the distance between him. As he sat, she bent down and cupped his face with her hands, kissing him deeply, passionately for a brief moment before pulling away. "Pietro... I have loved you for three years now.. I would never lie to you."
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 27, 2015 17:33:21 GMT -5
God, and there she was, right in front of him, touching his face and saying that she loved him - loved him! - and the feelings he had tried to fight since the night before, all the hope and joy and passion, swelled up in his chest. The way she kissed him, sober and right-minded and full of passion ... Pietro could barely handle it. "Serafina ... I love you, too."
He stood up then, wrapped his arms around her, and suddenly they were kissing with a sort of frantic desperation that came from waiting in torment for so very, very long. She was finally close to him, pressed up against him, and he was able to run his fingers through her hair exactly as he had wanted to so many times. The difference in their heights made Pietro feel an incredible sense of ... well, manliness ... that seemed to light a fire in his veins. All of his ideas about how he would be soft and gentle flew out the window, and he found himself pressing Serafina against the wall as their kissing became even more intense. All the pent-up sexual desires ... damn it, this was glorious.
He finally pulled his lips away from hers, breaths coming heavily, and pressed a kiss against her forehead. "Is this all right? Or too much?"
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 28, 2015 1:16:03 GMT -5
He loved her too?! Talk about a dream come true. It felt as if Serafina's insides were swelling to the point of explosion. Before she could really react, though, he had gotten to his feet and began to kiss her in return with an intensity that she was unfamiliar with. Even so, though, it was amazing - absolutely breathtaking - and she found herself returning the kiss as best as she knew how. Her back collided softly with a nearby wall only mere moments later, and feeling him towering over her with all of his strength was some sort of... Turn on? Is that what they called it? She wasn't entirely sure - poor naive thing - but it felt phenomenal.
He pulled away after a couple moments and began to ask if this was okay. Truthfully, she had always been told to never have sex before she was wed, but something about their interaction felt so right that it was almost incomprehensible. "No," she told him with a light shake of her head - breath still lingering with his in closeness. "This is just fine." Her breath was shaky and nervous, but her hands reached up to wind behind his neck anyway. "I... I wouldn't want this with anyone else." And with that, her lips were back on him, and despite her efforts to keep her composure, her tongue began to slip forward with lustful hunger - dancing just outside his lips.
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 28, 2015 5:00:37 GMT -5
Pietro was all too happy to oblige, to meet her tongue with his and press his fingers into her back and be as close as humanly possible. This was, quite literally, a dream come true. Here were all the hopes he had cherished, kept secret and close to his heart. Here was the stroke of luck that would change his life forever.
He just couldn't help himself. Suddenly he was lifting her up, hands at her tiny waist, lips still entangled with hers, and then crossing the small room with a few steps to collapse onto his bed. Every inch of her skin needed to be kissed, caressed, adored, and so he did just that: forehead and cheeks and nose and chin, wonderfully fragrant neck, then hands and arms - everything that wasn't covered with fabric was covered with kisses. He ran his hands through her hair, relishing in its silky warm tones, adoring every little bit of his sweetheart.
He was starting to get warm, so he slipped out of his jacket and dumped it unceremoniously on the floor - very unlike the fastidious Pietro. Oh, but neatness didn't matter, wrinkles were no worry, and who cared about fine materials anyway? He ran his hands down the sides of her body to her hips - tiny and beautiful, just like the rest of her. "You are so perfect," he whispered against her skin before nipping gently at the base of her neck and kissing his way back up to her lips. Every moment was filled with sensation, with glorious triumph and joy and love that almost seemed like it would burst out of his chest.
Undignified, yes, but so very, very worth it.
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 28, 2015 12:22:04 GMT -5
Her tongue was welcomed, which surprised her in a weird way. Serafina half expected him to be appalled by her sudden lack of manners, but perhaps he was just as hungry for her touch as she was for his.
And that was exactly what she got as she was pulled tightly against him before being lifted off the ground. She didn't care where he was taking her so long as their lips were still intertwined, so she kept kissing him and gripped the back of his neck a bit tighter to hold on as she was transported. Her back then hit the comforter of his bed - soft and amazing against her - but he stayed close, hovering over her. His lips trailed her exposed skin, and she felt small tingles and pulses course through her veins with each touch of his mouth to her skin. When he spoke those four simple words, her cheeks lit aflame with redness, as she looked into his eyes. "I am far from perfect, but you? The embodiment of everything I want."
And then he nipped at her neck, and she bit her lip softly. She probably shouldn't be enjoying this as much as she was - after all, they weren't married as they should have been for such an act to take place - but she couldn't fight it. She had longed for him for years, and he was finally at her grasp. So as their lips collided again, she pressed her lips back passionately against his as her fingers wound into his shirt to pull him closer to her.
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 28, 2015 17:15:20 GMT -5
And now he was at an impasse. He wanted - so badly - to start opening the buttons on her shirt, to expose more skin for his mouth to enjoy, but ... well, she was only seventeen. What if she didn't want that? And then she would be upset with him, frightened, and she would leave his apartment and he would have ruined everything.
"I suppose we can agree to disagree on who is more perfect," Pietro conceded, a grin on his lips as he took a moment just to look down at her, to trail a finger along her jawline, then down her neck to linger over the top button of her uniform shirt. His gaze flicked to the button, then back to her eyes. "May I?" he asked, waiting for her assent which, gloriously, he received.
Button after button, and then he had her shirt halfway undone and he tugged it open to kiss and lick along her collarbone, and then lower, pressing his face against the tops of her breasts and tenderly kissing, admiring, oh yes she was just as soft and smooth and gorgeous as he had imagined. Beautiful olive-toned skin that drove him wild ... his hands wandered to cup her breasts through the shirt and his lips continued to find every bit of accessible skin.
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 28, 2015 20:18:50 GMT -5
A slow finger began to slither from her jawline down to her blouse, and for a moment, her breath hitched from the action as if his finger had just somehow drawn out all of the oxygen from her lungs. Her eyes never left the perfection that were his own, and she smiled lightly at his comment about them being at an impasse in regards to who was more perfect than the other. "That is alright with me, but I think you already know how stubborn I can be," she told him with a very slight smirk. Still somewhat sassy, even now, as she felt his finger reach the top button of her blouse. A small nod answered his question, signaling to him that it was quite alright for him to unbutton her blouse.
His lips were hot like fire, trailing down to her collarbone and lashing out at it in the most sensual of ways. She took in a sharp breath through her nose, trying not to make much noise. After all, was she supposed to make a lot of noise? Would that be obnoxious to him or bothersome? She wasn't sure, but as his hands reached up to cup her breasts, she melted like butter in his palms. He moved further to kiss at her breasts, and she felt like she was burning at the steak. Burning for her sin of doing this with a man who not only was her professor but who wasn't her husband. Or was it burning of a different matter? Of an excited, explosive manner?
She didn't have the faintest idea as to what her role was in the bedroom with a man who was certainly more experienced than she - not that she wanted to think about that - but she had to do something. Her hands dropped down to the remainder of her blouse, pulling it out of her skirt and unbuttoning the remainder of it slowly. Her entire upper half was exposed now aside from her undergarments, and she reached up to remove his own shirt - slipping it off over his head.
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