36. Joao
36
JOAO
S tefi wants to visit a nightclub after dinner. “Let’s go dancing,” she says when we finish our meal, her eyes too bright and her voice filled with false cheer. “I want to do all the things we never got to do.”
The conversation about my friends upset her, but I don’t understand why it matters so much. Doesn’t she know that I don’t care? She’s my everything—I will always choose her.
But if my wife wants to dance to Polish pop, then that’s what we’re going to do, because I would happily give her everything she desires and more.
The nightclub options in Szczecin are not extensive. There are two choices, and we take a cab to the noisier and more crowded one. Once we arrive, we pay our cover and head inside.
Not going to lie; I’m a little grumpy about the crowded venue. I’m reasonably certain nobody knows we’re here, but even so, masses of people are always risky. Someone could walk right up to us and shoot, and we wouldn’t even realize it until it was too late.
But one look at Stefi’s face, and I know she’s done with threat assessment. If I’m being honest, so am I. It’s hard to be on high alert all the time. It’s no way to live.
I brave the crowds and get both of us beers from the bar, then let her drag me onto the dance floor, doing my best to look cheerful about it.
Stefi puts her arms around my neck, her body pressed tight against mine. “Guess what?” she whispers. “I’m not wearing any panties.”
Looks like the music is putting her in a better mood. That’s good—I hate seeing Stefi upset. I know from experience that she’ll talk only when she’s ready to, so rather than push the conversation back to Venice, I follow her lead. “Tsk, tsk,” I say sternly into her ear, fighting back a smile. “Is that any way to behave, Signora Carvalho?”
She gives me a startled look. “Signora Carvalho,” she says, testing the name out on her lips. “I like it.” Her smile widens, and she winks at me. “I’m a bad girl. What are you going to do about it?”
A young guy who’s had too much to drink starts grinding into my wife from behind. I stare at him, murder in my eyes. “Try that again, and I’ll kill you,” I tell him flatly.
No matter how drunk you are, there’s a lizard part of your brain that tells you you’re in mortal danger. The guy looks at me, knows I mean every word, and hastily beats a retreat.
Stefi just chuckles. “Jealous?” she teases.
“I’m trying to decide if breaking his arms and legs is worth the hassle.”
She laughs again. “Forget him,” she breathes into my ear. “I don’t want to spend the night in a Polish prison. We have better things to do.”
We do indeed.
I look around and realize that nobody’s watching us. A group of young women wearing identical tight pink T-shirts and short skirts have just entered the club, hooting and hollering and laughing loudly, and all eyes are immediately on them. It’s a bridal shower, from the looks of it, and judging by how unsteady some of the women are on their feet, this isn’t their first stop.
I take advantage of the crowd’s distraction to glide my hand under Stefi’s dress and feel her bare cunt against my fingers.
Her eyes go wide, and she sucks in a breath from the sudden touch.
But she doesn’t pull away.
“So wet.” My voice comes out in a low growl. “Such a bad girl, going out without panties.” I pet her clit, and she clamps down on my finger, and fuck me, that’s hot. I steer her to one side so she’s up against a wall and shield her from view with my body. Then I hold up my bottle of beer. “I’m not a fan of the lager.”
“Umm, okay?” She has no idea where I’m going with this, but from the sparkle in her eyes, she’s okay with being surprised.
“It doesn’t have any taste.” I take her wrists firmly in my hand and pin them above her head, then slide the bottle up her skirt and slowly ease the neck inside her slick cunt. I pull it out and take a long drink, the heady taste of her mingling with the cheap beer. “Much better.”
“Joao,” she exhales, half-shocked, half-turned on.
“Yes, Stefi?” I slide the bottle in again, pull it out, and have another drink. “Is something the matter?”
Her eyes start to glaze over, and then she shakes her head. “No,” she protests. “This isn’t fair.” She looks around the room. The bride-to-be is doing shots off some guy’s abs, and everyone is riveted by the spectacle. Something tells me this isn’t a daily occurrence in Szczecin. “You already made me come in a crowded room in Warsaw. It’s my turn to return the favor.”
I’m about to ask her what she has in mind when she unzips my trousers and reaches for my cock. Predictably, it’s hard and ready for her. She strokes up and down my length once or twice, then, before I even have a chance to process what she’s doing, she drops to her knees right there, wraps her pretty pink lips around my cock, and takes me into her mouth.
Fuck.
I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. I can’t see the club entrance, and I don’t care. Neither of us is watching the crowd for threats, and it doesn’t matter.
She takes me deep, her cheeks hollowing out, and her tongue sliding around my length, and my knees almost buckle it’s so good. Pleasure jolts up my spine. “Stef,” I groan, sliding my fingers through her curls. “You’re killing me here.”
She looks up at me with a smile in her eyes, then takes me in deeper, licking the underside of my cock from the base to the head. I think I’m going to lose my mind. She sucks me deep, completely focused on my pleasure, her head bobbing on my length, her curls dancing.
The squeeze of her mouth is perfection.
My grip on her hair tightens, my vision starts to blur. My head falls back, and my hips thrust forward. It doesn’t take long for my balls to tighten. “I’m going to come,” I growl, gripping her shoulders to warn her. Her vivid green eyes sparkle even more, and she takes me deeper down her throat, and that’s all it takes. I erupt into her mouth.
She swallows every drop, then gracefully rises to her feet and holds her hand out for my beer.
My head still swimming from my climax, I hand the bottle to her, tuck my cock away, and zip up. She drains the rest of the contents, then she winks. “You’re right about the beer. It is pretty tasteless.” She gives me a cheeky grin. “Want to get out of here?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
On the way back to our hotel, we pass a sex store.
I don’t know why I’m surprised. Even in the age of the Internet, every tourist town probably has a sex store tucked away in a side street. This one looks nicer than most. The window is brightly lit and decorated for the holidays. Dildos in shades of red and green are strewn around a male mannequin, who’s dressed in a Santa hat, a leopard print thong, and nothing else.
Stefi starts to giggle. “You should buy it,” she says through her laughter. “I would pay serious money to see you in a thong.”
I change directions and walk toward the shop door.
Stefi’s eyes go wide. “Seriously?” she asks in delight. “You’re going to buy it?”
I open the door and beckon for her to enter. “Sorry, little fox. I would do anything for you, but I draw the line at a thong that looks as thin as dental floss. We’re here for handcuffs.” We head inside, and I direct her to the rear of the store, past the neon pink fur cuffs and the leather restraints to the basic steel variety. “I thought we’d play a game. Wanna see who can get out of them first?”
Stef could never say no to a challenge. “What do I get if I win?”
“I’ll go down on you. But if you lose?—”
“I’ll have to go down on you? So basically, win-win?” Her teeth flash in a grin. “You’re on.”
We pay for our handcuffs, then head back to the hotel. She wriggles out of her dress, and I suck in a breath and reach for her, blindsided as always by how beautiful she is. I kiss her deeply, my pulse racing, then push her back on the bed and feast on her.
It takes us a while to get to the handcuffs, but we eventually take them out of the shopping bag. I pull her hands behind her back and put the cuffs on, kissing her neck and her shoulders as I do. Then I get mine on. “Ready?”
Stefi’s eyes are bright with anticipation. “Ready,” she responds. “Let’s do this.”
Eight years ago, I was faster than her at getting free. Tonight, she wins easily, getting out of her handcuffs a full minute before I do. I’d like to blame the fact that she’s naked, but that’s just an excuse. She’s just better than me. She’s spent the last eight years on the run, and it’s honed her skills into a blade. While I’m struggling to get out of the restraints, she slides her hand down her stomach to her cunt and slips a finger inside.
“Don’t mind me,” she says innocently. “I’ll just entertain myself while I wait for you to break free.”
Watching her touch herself does not help. She strokes two fingers down her slit and then places them on my lips. I forget all about getting free and suck them into my mouth, my cock jerking at her taste, my brain turning into mush.
“No, no,” she chides, laughter in her eyes. “This won’t do. What if you’re in danger and need to get out of your restraints?”
“I’ll sit back and wait for you to rescue me.” I twist my wrists, and the cuffs release with a click, and then I pounce on her, sweeping her into my arms and tossing her onto the mattress. “Now, I believe I have a forfeit to pay.” I spread her legs hungrily. “And Stef, I always pay my debts.”