Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 05

17.

Now, the Ancient Quarter was waking up at its usual lazy pace. Elizabeth had grown to think of this part of the city as being like a pampered dowager cat, awakened daily by the caress of the sun and stretching lazily to greet each morning. Today was no different as the sun crept with feline grace down the stucco sides of the buildings, giving the morning a soft yellow glow.

Elizabeth stood quietly at Joseph's side looking absent minded through a storefront window on the Corso del Rinascimento, just where it connected through little alleyways to the Piazza Navona. Her heart was full of anxiety as she tried to wrap her head around all the conflicting emotions she felt. She was trying desperately to work out a solution that would not destroy her marriage, not hurt her husband and yet still permit her to explore the feelings that were pulling her so hard to go even deeper into the kind of relationship this beautiful man standing so close to her had proposed. She could feel his warmth as he held her, his strongly muscled arm wound casually around her waist. She could smell his scent conveyed to her by the little convection currents wafting up from the paving stones. It actually made her mouth water and she shook her head trying to clear the feeling of desire from her brain.

Joseph could see that in her reflection in the storefront glass and he looked over at her quizzically. "My woman, something troubles you. Unburden yourself to your man."

"That's just it Joseph. How can you possibly be 'my man'. I am married you know, and until a few weeks ago I thought I was happily married. Now you offer this entirely new and entirely alien idea of what marriage can be and I am so torn. On the one hand, nothing I have ever done is as exciting as what we have shared. Nothing has ever been as earth shattering as the way you make me feel when we are . . ."

She looked over her shoulder as if she expected someone might be spying on them and it made her feel even more guilty. Seeing no one she continued, this time in a husky, barely audible whisper.

"As when we are. . . intimate. Oh God, Jusef! I can barely manage to hold it together. I want you so fucking bad I could just rip your shorts off and suck your cock right here. Do you understand how much you're in my brain; how crazy you make me?"

Joseph said nothing, instead squeezing her waist and pulling her closer. His brow furrowed as he considered how to respond. She had just called him 'Jusef,' the Islamic version name that he had explained only a parent or an intimate -- like a wife or lover would use -- spoke volumes to him about how she felt about him right now.

She continued, still in a whisper, but growing more breathless as she unburdened her soul to the tall black man whose side now tightly pressed against hers, "On the other hand, I really love Michael and after all we have 18 years together, we made a child together after all. I could never do something that hurt him. I mean I already have cheated on him with you, and I don't want to hurt him any more. Can you understand that? Does my marriage mean nothing to you for heaven sake?"

"Elizabeth did last night's conversation in the car mean nothing to you. Do you not understand what I was proposing? Believe in me, my woman and know that, yes, your marriage will be redefined but in a way that benefits all three of us, and especially Michael. We are all in this future together."

He paused a moment for effect, but before he could continue, they watched an ugly double decker bus cough up a glob of badly dressed tourists, probably American. They filled the cobble stone alley leading to the piazza, and Joseph grimaced in frustration.

"Come, we need privacy. Let's get away from these people"

Joseph took Elizabeth by her wrist and began striding purposefully through the clutch of tourists and down the narrow alleyway like a shark through a school of minnows. She never failed to appreciate his strength and the easy, unconscious dominance he exerted over her. Now was no exception as they parted the throng, some of them even running nervously into the narrow walls on either side. In truth, she loved being pulled along by him. It made her feel that Joseph was in complete control of her, and that secretly excited her sexually. Even now she could feel her juices wetting the panty material at the apex of her running shorts. She was not ready to admit to herself how much she loved being submissive to him and would have been shocked to know how much more submissive she would become to him.

He jostled a portly man and his blowzy wife and over his shoulder he heard to man complain grumpily to his wife, "Damn -- look at that fine looking little gal and the way that porch monkey is pullin' her along. I guess they ain't too particular over here. You'd think she would know better than to be seen with a damn nigg. . . "

Before he could finish the sentence, Joseph halted and looked hotly back at the man. The prince's jaw was tight and his glare cut the man down without a word being spoken. Now Elizabeth looked back in anger as well. To further aggravate the bigot, she took Joseph's hand and placed it firmly on her butt cheek holding it in place with her own hand. Joseph squeezed, then rubbed her firm ass cheek possessively as they slowly continued and broke out onto the piazza ahead of the tourists.

The man's wife looked at her husband, angrily silencing him in a loud voice, "Damn it, Albert. I told you to watch what you say, Some of them can understand English, you know. Besides, I wouldn't mind a taste of dark meat myself if they was all built like that one."

The husband was about to reply, but all he could manage was a growl. Elizabeth had heard the remark and thought to herself, "No bitch, he's mine. Anyone who wants him is going to have to claw their way through me to get to him."

She leaned against him body and put her arm around his waist, then suddenly blinked, shocked at what she had just told herself. She could scarcely believe what she had just admitted to herself and again the internal conflict between loyalty and passion began another skirmish.

Across the large Piazza Navona, they could see that the gelateria at the opposite side of the oval square was just opening, A swarthy worker was rolling up the awning. The place had become Elizabeth's favorite, and Cesare, the proprietor always gave her a free sample on nights when she strolled in. Once, she saw him animatedly jabbering away to the other workers and making a gesture with the middle finger of one hand through the circled thumb and forefinger of the other while his eyebrows wiggled. She didn't need to speak Italian to know the meaning of the gesture, and had actually been a little flattered that he was thinking of her sexually.

Today his face broke into its usual broad smile as she glided into the shop. He thought to himself how sexy she looked and how much he would love to screw her tight little body. He could see her nipples dancing under the sheer material of her running top. His mouth watered and his dick stiffened as he mentally ravaged her. He knew she was American from her previous attempts at conversation but thought she could be mistaken for northern Italian from her pale skin and dark hair. Not for the first time, he thought how much she reminded him of a young version of that American actress Rachel Weisz he had seen in movies imported from Hollywood.

When he saw the coal black countenance of the man who was obviously her companion his face turned to a scowl. This was the first time she had ever visited the shop with Joseph and the owner was shocked and confused. He had seen her with a mousy looking man whom she introduced as 'mio marito', my husband. Clearly this was not the husband, but who then? His jaw dropped as he saw the familiar, possessive way Joseph again took her wrist and led her to one of the glass fronted bins and he thought to himself, 'cosa una piccola puttana' -- what a filthy little whore. This is the last time I let that slut foul my shop.

Nonetheless, he forced a smile and waited on them. She ordered her favorite, blackberry, while Joseph decided on pineapple. When they strode out of the store the owner stuck his right thumb between his lips making the gesture of scorn behind their backs.

They found a tiny table under an umbrella tucked outside the building's side window. Elizabeth tasted the confection and rolled her eyes in sheer delight. She dug a little with her spoon then offered it to Joseph's lips, feeding him lovingly. "You have got to taste this. It's just like the creamery near my dad's auto dealership when I was a little girl. Gosh, it's so good."

She had fond memories of her dad brining her to work back in South Bend, in the summers with some of her other siblings. He would treat them all to ice cream and let them climb all over the new car interiors, much to the dismay of the car salesmen. She recounted this to Joseph and loved the way his face lit up as he smiled and that made her smile too. He explained that pineapple was the first gelato he had tasted when his father had brought him to Europe for the first time when he was 12. He scooped some onto his middle finger then offered it to Elizabeth. She licked it off his finger then took his finger between her lips, then without pausing moved her mouth back and forth slowly over his finger. Her meaning was transparent and intended to be provocative. Indeed it worked as Joseph's thick member stiffened uncomfortably.

Ironically, a few of the tour group had made its way around the broad piazza and the same man and his wife were staring at them, unable to tear their eyes away. Seeing them from the corner of her eye, Elizabeth's vexation with them grew, and just to be provocative, she held his finger just at her lips and said loud enough for anyone around them to hear, "Mmmmm, I wish this was your hot black cock I was sucking. I think we should go back to your place so you can fuck me hard darling. Who knows, maybe today will be the day you put your black baby inside me."

The couple's eyes grew wide as saucers, and they beat a hasty retreat backing away so swiftly from the interracial pair that the husband tripped on his own feet. As they disappeared, both Elizabeth and Joseph broke into gales of laughter. He took her hand and placed it over his cock, covered only be the sheer material of this running shorts. As the laughter died away and she felt the power and warmth of his hard, thick member, her insides churned. In the back of her mind, she wondered -- and not for the first time this day -- whether the signals coming from all over her body were simply animal lust or evidence of something deeper.

She was concerned that the latter was definitely the case and that she was, even against her will, feeling a growing love or something very much akin to it for this handsome and powerful man. They began to talk in hushed tones and Elizabeth placed her hand over his on the table. The conversation was wide ranging but she could not bring herself to talk about what was obviously on her mind.

A bit later, Joseph made a round trip to another shop and came back with cappuccinos and biscotti for the both of them. They sat talking about their childhoods and growing up in vastly different parts of the planet for the next hours, barely moving.

It was not just the physicality of it; she realized that if Joseph were just a random (but admittedly wonderful) cock, she would not be having these feelings. There was something more she knew, but asked herself how this could possibly be happening this quickly. Running the gamut of emotions made her feel rather crazy and unsettled -- earlier in the morning she had been ready to tell Joseph she never wanted to see him again.

Now here she was thinking about changing the ground rules of her married life, the only ground rules she could imagine. At least that's what her Midwest American sensibilities seemed to be reminding her. Again she returned her hand to his leg and felt for his semi-hard cock along the inside of the sheer running shorts. Joseph's breathing quickened but he managed a neutral countenance as he asked casually, "Did you mean what you said about wanting to be bred with my progeny?"

She squeezed her eyes tight as if to banish her titillating remark. When she opened her eyes again, Joseph sat, staring impassively, waiting for an answer. "Oh God, Don't you see that can never be? Joseph, we need to talk. We need to settle this before I go crazy." Her hand massaged his cock and her mouth watered involuntarily. She sat quietly, waiting for him to continue the discussion they had begun an hour ago in the alleyway.

He cleared his throat and began addressing her in even conversational tones; "My dear Elizabeth, you and Michael have been together for years now. You know that your marriage is secure but you also know that he is not a man capable of satisfying your needs in bed. You didn't know that until fate put me into your bed, but you know it now don't you?"

She gulped then nodded. He continued, revealing to her that her husband, far from being shocked at what he was proposing, was asking how he could make it happen. He told her they had talked just this morning and Michael was already asking -- begging really -- for Joseph to take command of their lives. "You may not be talking about it to one another yet, but you are both thinking the same thing. It occurs to me that you are simply afraid of change, afraid of the risk. Yet ironically, both of you know instinctively that this can work. When we are in bed, you are completely submissive to me, which is as it should be. It is my right to expect that of my women. Yet, you seem to be fighting me. Why not simply have the discussions you know you want to have with Michael, so that we can move on to the next stage. You know you want it, and now you can be sure Michael wants it just as badly. Let us return to your flat and conclude the discussion we began last night. Only then will you see just how much Michael wants your marriage to evolve."

During the conversation she had, without realizing it, been inching close to him across the small table and rubbing her leg between his well muscled legs. Each time she felt the friction of his soft skin against hers, her body involuntarily tingled. Making up her mind quickly, she rose and took his and looking him steadily in the eye, offered her wrist to his strong hand. The meaning was unmistakable. She was offering to follow his lead, but she very much wanted him to take that lead in talking to her husband. Her heart was racing and she could scarcely believe what had been discussed was real. Her marriage with Michael had grown stale and was in need of redefinition, but could this radical change be the right medicine? She had felt so badly knowing she had cheated on their commitment, but if it had his blessing it could scarcely be cheating, could it? Still, it troubled her enough to bring it up as they ambled, physically close toward the Teatro Pace with its tall awning crested windows and earth toned buildings.

"Joseph, there is one thing I ask of you. Please never let Michael know I cheated on him. I mean, what we are about to do will have his blessing, and that is an altogether different thing -- which I admit I don't completely understand -- a husband wanting to share his wife with another man -- but he is delicate in many ways and I don't want to crush his ego."

Looking down at her, he kissed the lush, soft hair on the top of her head, and said reassuringly, "I will grant that dear Elizabeth. I don't want to see him broken either; I need -- we need -- him to be a enthusiastic supporter of this new marriage arrangement. I have the greatest respect for marriage; just because my peoples' definition of marriage differs from you narrow western concept, doesn't mean I don't. Our traditions go back to very ancient times. To us your western traditions are the aberration and an insult to nature. We take our cues from nature, from animals like the lowland gorilla where a few males have access to all the females and the other males assume a grooming role for the females, attending to all their other needs."

Elizabeth looked thoughtfully then asked, "Yes, but how do those other gorillas, err . . . I mean, how do all the other men -- the inferior ones. . . Find any . . . You know . . . sexual satisfaction?"

"A fair question, my princess. Sometimes they get satisfaction in simply watching and playing with themselves. Sometimes they turn to the other inferior males. Sometimes they leave the troop to find other, unaffiliated females as potential mate. Sometimes they offer themselves to the superior males. It depends.

"As you know, I was involved in such a relationship once before. What seemed to work for him was to watch and sometimes offer himself to me. I expect it will be the same with your Michael."

Elizabeth had a sudden thought as they turned into her flat, "Why did they decide to leave this new kind of marriage if it was so perfect then?"

Joseph shrugged as he pushed the door lever. "As the participation in this style of marriage continues to grow, so does the level of commitment. Certain things are demanded of a wife that, frankly, Lisette simply could not handle. We can talk about that later, but right now my task is to help you see that our little Mikey is very ready to embrace the idea. In fact, if I do not take you in your marital bed today, I believe he will be very much disappointed. Just follow what I am about to tell you."

Joseph went on to explain how how wanted her to handle the conversation with her husband. Some of his instruction seemed to border on cruelty to her and that was something not in her nature. When she protested, he explained that denial and rejection from a wife were huge turn ons for a cuckold. "And make no mistake," he told her, "A cuckold is what Michael wishes to be, and together we will help him grow into that role. We need to help him embrace that side of his nature, to maximize his pleasure, so there will be times when I will order you to do things that will seem to be punishing him. In those times, I advise you to watch his physical reactions and you will see for yourself how much excitement he derives. Do you understand me? Does his make sense to you?"

Elizabeth had her doubts, but her lust clouded her thinking. She was hopeful he was right. Certainly she could never imagine her typically American husband offering himself to Joseph or any other man for that matter. As far as being willing to share her, he seemed to be more than willing to embrace that. In part that disgusted her and diminished her regard for him for some reason.

18.

In their prolonged absence, Michael had showered, shaved and dressed in light beige linen trousers and a soft blue pastel sweater. He was barefoot, choosing to remain casual on this lazy weekend. His imagination had been running full throttle, with his thoughts spanning a number of possibilities. When he heard the metallic scratching of the latch, both his excitement and anxiety rose dramatically.

Joseph preceded Elizabeth up the stairs, and led her by the wrist over to her husband. He released her to address Michael, then stood just behind her. At 5 feet 8 inches, she was already an inch taller than her husband, and now a bit more so in her cushy running shoes. She looked down into his eyes, searching for something, although she wasn't sure what. She took his chin in her hand and looked down into his eyes. "Darling, Prince Joseph and I had a long talk after our run today. I'm sure you know what the topic was. The three of us need to talk. Ok?"

He bit his lower lip and nodded his head. Looking up into her shining eyes, he answered, "Umm . . . Yes, I guess I know. I mean, I know what you want to discuss. Does this disgust you? Do you hate me?" His head lowered and stared down at his feet.