by Cristiano Caffieri
THE MARRIAGE ULTIMATUM
At one juncture in my life my girlfriend and I lived in the same city but in two different countries. Yes – it is confusing! I had a rather nice little apartment in Niagara Falls, Canada and she lived with her parents over the Rainbow Bridge in Niagara Falls USA. It did put a bit of a strain on our relationship having to pass through immigration and customs two or three times a week, but we did it for at least a couple of years before the subject of marriage came up.
Nina was a great looking girl, always ready to oblige sexually, although when I say oblige I should point out that it tended to on her terms. She was pretty, and she was fun to be with but like all relationships, there was a fly in the ointment, in our case that fly happened to be her father. He was a nice enough guy, we got along really well, but when Nina suggested we might get married one day I suddenly became the son he’d never had and he wanted me to join him in his mail order company. The operation, which sold party supplies, was obviously successful but I really couldn’t see myself packaging personalized paper plates, plastic glasses, and table napkins all day.
I tried to explain to her that I was a budding writer and then, thinking she was being helpful, she suggested that perhaps I could write some amusing ditties to print on party favors. She just didn’t see where I was coming from.
What really aggravated me more than anything was when she kept bringing up the fact that I was a security guard. It was as if she felt I should be ashamed. I knew it wasn’t quite like being a doctor, lawyer or a children’s party organizer but it paid my rent. And I’d always looked on it as a part time job, as first and foremost I was a writer. I’d written for the local paper, had two short stories published and had penned an industrial video script for a company that sold electronic capacitors. I was a bone fide published writer, how much more fucking proof did she need?
When I told her about the novel that I had buried inside of me she sarcastically suggested that I should leave it buried there, but then when she saw that I was offended by her comment me she offered me a deal.
“I’ll give you six months to write your novel and get it published and if you don’t manage that, and you still refuse to work for daddy – I guess there won’t be any future for us.”
I don’t like ultimatums, but I went along with it providing that during my probationary period, we would keep having sex two or three times a week. She agreed and immediately began to strip off to prove her sincerity.
Holy shit the sight of Nina’s beautiful tits and trimmed muff weakened me to the point where I would have agreed to almost anything, even a lifetime of packing party supplies. I never told her this of course, a woman should never be aware of the power she has in this regard. Fortunately, she was going through a hormonal phase at that time where she was as horny as I was and so I never really had to beg for it.
On that particular occasion, it was like our sexual organs were sending signals to each other, she was rubbing her crack as if it was getting really wet and my dick was throbbing like a pneumatic drill. I couldn’t get my clothes off fast enough, and when I was naked I quickly swept away the papers that were strewn all over my bed and literally threw her onto the covers.
I knew what she liked and I got down to it pronto. She loved me to suck her nipples really gently, barely touching them with my lips. And while I was puckering up to one nipple, I’d spit on the palm of my hand and just as gentle I’d rub it over the other.
She started to moan right away. I would like to have diddled her crack while I was sucking but she came so easily it was all over in a flash and so I usually gave her few little pokes and then I slipped down her creamy smooth skin and put my face between her thighs.
Nina always jumped when my tongue made the first contact with the lips of her flower and sometimes she’d grab onto my hair and raise her ass six inches off the bed. Once again I had to do everything gentle, she never liked the rough stuff. However, when she began to whimper my blood pressure would go up and I’d occasionally go into my primeval mode. To bring me back to how she liked it she’d pull my hair so hard it felt as if the top of my head would come off.
When Nina came, she came big time. She’d scream and squirm her ass around like a woman gone mad. Sometimes she worried me because she didn’t seem to be able to control herself, I often had to grab on to her wrists and hold her down in order to get my cock inside of her. She stiffened up when I drove it in and then when I started to slip it in and out she flung her arms back across the bed in complete surrender. On the occasion, I’m describing I figured that she felt she scored a victory over me and was looking forward to walking down the aisle six months hence.
It was like a first-night performance. When I blew my load, she went a little crazier than usual. She pumped her ass up and down to get every last drop of my cum and after that she sucked my dick taking a load in her mouth. A little later, on her initiative, we fucked again, doggy style and I was beginning to feel shagged out.
We sent out for supper that night. I hardly had the strength to pick up the phone to place the order but she was in fine fettle and jabbered on about some new houses that were going up on the American side and how her party packing daddy was prepared to take back the mortgage on one of them.
It was about midnight when she left but I was determined to start my novel as it seemed that I’d lose control of my life if I didn’t. I sat down at the computer and managed to type out “When Giulia walked into the room he knew his life would never…” At that point, my eyelids began to grow heavy and I walked over to the bed and just flopped.
On the day following my little orgy with Nina, I was assigned to do a 12-hour shift at a trade show. I always kept a notebook in my pocket so I could jot down a few notes when I came up some new idea for my forthcoming masterpiece. Just watching people file through the reception area and checking to see nobody walks off with an exhibit might look easy but after 12 hours you’re completely shagged – and bored to tears.
The show lasted for three days and then it was my day off. Early that morning I took a short walk along the promenade overlooking the Horseshoe Falls. I paused for a while to feel the spray on my face and to do a little meditating. Eureka! I came up with an idea – I was going to quit my job and become a full time writer.
Mrs. Brodie who lived in the ground floor apartment across from mine was moving. She was our acting janitor with responsibility for vacuuming the hallways in our rundown six-plex, emptying the garbage and clearing the sidewalk in the winter. For this she got a fifty percent discount on her rent. I figured if I took on the job, sold my motorbike and lived off the three thousand bucks I had in the bank, I could actually survive for three or four months and I would be a professional writer.
Back in the apartment, I began to belt out my story about Giulia the sweet Italian immigrant who was being pursued by a young millionaire who was crazy about her. My fingers swept across that keyboard like a concert pianist, but then suddenly my mind went blank. I was suffering from my first writer’s block and less than ten minutes after becoming a professional.
I moped around all day, occasionally tapping out a few words and then giving up in frustration. Fortunately, Nina called round and she was excited about a newspaper article she’d found.
“You don’t have to wait for months to get a publisher,” she advised me, “you can do what these guys did.”
“These guys – it’s all here in the paper.”
She handed me the newspaper and I must admit it made fascinating reading. Here was a bunch of young authors, many of them having been rejected by conventional publishing houses, who had made it big by self-publishing on Amazon Kindle. One of them was actually selling 100,000 copies a month.
“There’s no reason you couldn’t rake in the millions like they’re doing,” Nina laughed, “Just imagine that – all you have to do is bash away at that keyboard and before you know it you’ll be famous.”
Talk about getting carried away. She hadn’t even read any of my stuff and now she was turning me into a literary genius, and a rich one at that. I tried to explain the situation to her but she was in no mood for logic, she was in a state of misguided euphoria and there was not much I could do to bring her down.
Later in the evening as we sipped on some red wine she told me that she had her period but for good luck, she was going to give me the best blowjob a guy ever had. I’m not a superstitious person but I had to admit that even getting a blowjob was good luck in itself – so off we went to the bed.
Now she isn’t the only girl to give me a little fellatio but she is the best. Being sucked off by Nina is like an electrical current surging through your body, gradually increasing in intensity until it ignites your entire circuitry.
Her ball fondling is second to none and when she slipped her lips all the way down my dick it felt just like her vagina – but better. That night she was in great form and as those lips continued to perform their magic I thought I must be the luckiest guy in the whole country. As usual, she took my load in her mouth, let it trickle down her throat, and then continued to hold onto my dick for a while tickling it with her tongue.
I’ll always remember that day, because not only did she give me the thrill of a lifetime but she’d introduced me to the world of self-publishing. I had high hopes that I could join the ranks of those successful writers and unleash my creative talent upon the world. Nathan Dearborn was inspired – possibly not as much as Nina was but none- the- less inspired!
I stuck the article on the fridge so that I could see it from where my computer was sitting and occasionally I would talk to their photographs.
“What do you think?” I’d ask them, “Should I let Giulia go back to Damien’s apartment or should I let him sweat a little bit more?”
Of course, the picture never answered me, that’s what it’s like with inanimate objects – they basically stay inanimate. But much stranger things were to happen over the following days.
Now a full-time wordsmith I established a strict routine. I woke up, said good morning to my fellow professional authors on the fridge, had coffee, vacuumed the hallways, emptied the garbage and then sat at the computer for several hours. My diet consisted mainly of granola, yogurt, bananas and the occasional bacon sandwich. This was washed down with several gallons of strong coffee.
Nina wasn’t coming over quite so often because she said I was becoming mean and miserable. I suppose I was really. It was just that I was desperate to get on with the novel and even when the phone rang I was loath to pick it up. If a tenant had a plugged drain or something and came down to complain – OMG I couldn’t really be civil to them even though I tried.
I realized I was stressing myself out so that when a woman appeared in my room at one o’clock in the morning I wasn’t really shocked, I figured the lack of sleep and stress was causing me to hallucinate. I certainly recognized her because I always chose my leading characters, both women and men, by going to model agency photos on the web. Once I found someone that took my fancy I‘d print out their portfolio and tape it on the wall. This way when I was writing I knew exactly what they looked like. And the woman who was then staring at me from the other side of the room was Giulia.
She was very beautiful, just like you’d expect a model to look like. I daren’t say anything because I feared that I was perhaps having a mental breakdown and I thought if I started to talk to an imaginary character from my book it would just make things worse.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here,” she mused, sitting herself down in the big chair by the window.
I remained silent.
“You modeled me on that wimpy fiancé of yours – didn’t you? The one who likes her body to be treated so gently it’s hardly like having sex at all.”
I just swallowed hard, I really didn’t know what to do, I still refused to say anything.
“Cat got your tongue?” she teased.
“You’re not real,” I managed to mumble.
“Then why are you talking to me?”
“I’d just like you to leave.”
“Not until we reach an agreement,” she snapped, “I don’t want to be a carbon copy of that woman,” she said, referring to Nina. “she only gives you good sex when she wants something for herself – like a wedding band.”
I ignored her; I even shook my head from side to side hoping that I could dislodge her image somehow. It didn’t work and she just continued to talk.
“I want you to make me more passionate, more impulsive, and even more beautiful,” she said.
I hated to admit it but she was already incredibly beautiful – well after all she was a model and I’d dressed her up in glowing terms to satisfy my readers. She was what I imagined every man in the world desired in a woman, great tits, a great ass and the face of an angel.
“Perhaps we should make love,” she said, before I had a chance to answer her demands, “That would perhaps inspire you to write what Giulia wants from a man.” She got up moved over to the desk, “Would you like that?” she asked, stroking the back of my neck.
Her gentle touch, the sweet smell of her perfume completely freaked me out and I was hyperventilating as though I was going to have a heart attack. Then just as suddenly as she appeared, she was gone.
In spite of feeling that my brain was playing tricks on me, I did go to the keyboard to tweak a few scenes in my novel as she’d suggested. I thought perhaps I was modeling the character too much on Nina and something inside of me was beginning to question that and had caused me to hallucinate.
I was very tired after the rewrite so I knocked back a very large Rye and went to bed, only to toss and turn for most of the night. Several times I woke up thinking I could hear her calling my name and when I got up in the morning I felt that I could still smell that damn perfume.
IN NEED OF THERAPY
Giulia’s appearance that night affected me for most of the next day. I tried to eat breakfast but all I could manage was a few sips of coffee. Feeling that I was cracking up I looked through the yellow pages for a therapist. It seemed that they only took patients referred by your doctor and I so made an appointment for that afternoon and relayed my experience to him. He suggested that I should forget about the therapy for a while and just take a complete break from writing for three or four days. I walked out of the office with a prescription but I still felt I needed to have my head examined.
After stopping off at the drug store to get my happy pills I headed back to my apartment. I was almost afraid to go in case I saw her again, but I bucked up courage and burst through the door as if I was on a police raid. It was all quiet inside, I paid my respect to my colleagues, who were still clinging to my fridge door, made myself a Swiss cheese sandwich and spent the rest of the day watching mindless TV programs and drinking coffee fortified with brandy.
The medication helped me to sleep and I felt great when I woke up the next morning. I did my chores, actually cooked myself a meal and later in the evening, Nina came over.
I told her I’d not been well and as she always thought sex was the cure for all my ills she persuaded me to strip off and lie on the bed. She then proceeded to massage me, paying particular attention to my genitals, and then lowered herself onto my hardened dick and just slipped up and down with a gentle rhythm.
It felt good and I closed my eyes for a few moments and took it like a man. I didn’t keep my eyes shut because I loved to see her tits bounce up and down but when I opened them I got a shock. Standing right behind her shaking her head disapprovingly was Giulia. I grabbed onto Nina’s hip bones and stopped her from fucking me any further.
“I don’t feel that good,” I said.
She just sat there, still sitting on my cock and looking dumbfounded. I guess she couldn’t imagine any man being so sick they’d turn down a “cowboy.” Giulia had a big smile on her face and I guess Nina noticed I was looking over her shoulder.
“What are you looking at?” she asked, climbing off me, still being unable to believe that I’d stopped her pre-ejaculation.
“Nothing,” I replied, with my eyes still fixed on Giulia.
“Maybe you should go for therapy,” she said, “You’re acting very strange.”
At that moment that irritating character from my book spoke up, “You can do a lot better than her,” she grimaced, “you’re just wasting your time.”
I automatically put my finger to my lips to shush her and Nina, who couldn’t see her or hear her, thought I was shushing her.
“I didn’t say anything,” she said, looking confused, “You’re obviously not well Nathan I think you should take some of that medication the doctor gave you and go to bed.”
When she left to go home I decided to have a real talk with Giulia and tell her that I just wasn’t happy about her popping in on me whenever she pleased.
“If you made love to me,” she smiled, “you’d want me to be popping in on you all of the time. I’m far better at it that wimpy Nina.”
“Listen to me,” I yelled, “I have made you what you are, you’re a fucking character in my book and if I wanted to I could cancel you out and put some other bitch in your place.”
She pouted like and moved closer to me. I was only wearing my robe and I felt a bit vulnerable somehow and I started to back away from her. However, she kept moving forward and she soon had me pinned against the wall.
I hated to admit it but as those beautiful full lips got closer and closer I was overcome with the desire to kiss her. She just melted into my arms and our lips met in a lingering kiss. I almost expected to hear some angelic choir singing as our tongues entwined and I could actually feel her heart beating against mine.
When my hand caressed her breast she paused for a second, pulled away from me and took her top off, the breasts that I had created in my story were now inviting me to caress them. I nervously reached out to fondle them and she closed her eyes. The nipples were hard and erect and as I ran my fingers over them it sent shock waves down my spine. Giulia sighed and dug her fingers into my shoulders as I bent down to take the between my lips.
It was not the most comfortable position but it did allow me to unfasten her skirt and let it drop to the floor, followed by her flimsy panties, which she assisted me in removing. With my cock trying to bore its way through my pants I picked her up in my arms and carried her to the bedroom. I laid her down and quickly took off my clothes. My dick had swollen up so much it hurt and my balls were aching so bad I really thought I might blow my load before I ever got the chance to slip it into her lightly trimmed bush.
Kneeling between her legs I bent over and sucked on her tits. There were no gentle lip movements this time, I sucked and I sucked them hard. Unlike Nina I could stretch my arm down and run my finger in and out of her wet crack without her cumming right away.
Slowly I moved down her gorgeous body and started to lick the inside of her thighs, she whimpered like a little girl and then when my tongue flicked up the lips of her pussy she started to tremble. I placed my hands under the cheeks of her bum and crushed my mouth between her legs and sucked on it until she screamed and lashed around on the bed like someone possessed.
Without giving her the chance to gather her senses I just rammed it in as far as it would go. I completely forgot she was a fictitious character and I drove it in at a frenzied pace until my balls felt as if they would explode and when they did, I just kept pumping my goo into her and I didn’t want it to stop.
Entwined in each other’s arms we rolled around the bed kissing and fondling each other and she even said she loved me. As ridiculous as it seems I was completely infatuated with her, I never wanted this weird relationship to end – it was magical. We slept together that night but when I awoke the next morning she was gone.
ELIMINATING DAMIEN MCLEOD
I’d created the handsome, smooth-talking millionaire Damien McLeod as Giulia’s love interest, but now I wanted him out of the way. I was desperate to get rid of this guy who I considered to be my rival. Sitting down at the computer I activated the screen with the intention of writing him out of the story but it was blank, it appeared that a virus of some kind had wiped out all the files on my hard drive.
I knew I hadn’t lost all of my files because I always backed the important stuff up on a flash drive which I keep in my pocket in case of a fire or robbery. Feeling it was imperative to make the necessary changes I quickly threw on some clothes and headed for the library hoping to use one of their computers.
It was not until I got halfway down the street that I realized it was too early – they wouldn’t be open yet. Just as I was about to turn back I saw a vehicle speeding towards me. At the very last minute, it purposely swerved and jumped up onto the sidewalk. I clamped myself up against the wall of a building and it missed me by inches, it was so close in fact I recognized the driver – it was Damien McLeod.
There were several people on the street and an older man rushed over and asked me if I was OK.
“Some kind of a madman,” he said, “You should report it to the police.”
I knew I couldn’t do that, they would have thought it was me that was mad if I filed a complaint against a character from my novel. There wasn’t much I could do but go back to the apartment until the library opened.
As I opened the door I could sense there was a presence, I stopped and called out, “Who’s there?”
There was a faint rustling sound, and then I picked up the aroma of her perfume. Even though I knew she was somewhere in that room – my heart skipped a beat when she suddenly stepped out of the shadows.
“Thank god it’s you,” I cried, giving her a big hug, “thank god it’s you.”
“Damion is trying to destroy you,” she said, “he thinks you want to write him out of the story and that you’ve concealed a backup manuscript so that you can carry out your plan no matter what.”
“I have,” I replied, closing the door and bolting it, “I have it on a flash drive.”
“Perhaps I should have it for safe keeping,” she said, “He won’t suspect me of having it.”
“I think I’ll hang onto it myself.”
Her face changed when I said that, she looked positively evil and then she threatened me.
“I want that flash drive Nathan,” she said, sticking out her left hand, “Give it to me.”
Even though I was in a state of shock I believed I was still in command of the situation, that was until I saw what she had in her right hand. It was one of those tiny guns I’d seen women in the movies produce from their purses and it was pointing straight out my head.
“Damien and I want to stay alive forever and you’re the only one who can stop us,” she growled.
By this time my heart was beating rapidly and I was perspiring so bad I felt it dripping from my forehead onto my cheeks. I couldn’t believe this woman who’d made love to me so tenderly the night before was now threatening to blow me away.
“Come on, hand it over,” she snapped, “or I’ll shoot you where you stand,” she actually pressed the gun up against the tip of my nose as she said it, “hurry up – I mean it.”
I have no idea why, but I tried to buy time as if the US Cavalry might charge through my living room at any moment and save the day.
“I guess it was you that wiped my hard drive?” I said.
“Yes it was,” she smirked, “Now hand over the flash drive – I won’t ask you again.”
And she didn’t. My moment of hesitation got me a bullet in the foot. I fell to the floor writhing in agony and while I lay there she put the boot into my groin and told me the next shot would be fatal.
It was a bit of a struggle to feel into my pants pocket as I lay there bleeding on the floor but I managed it and handed to her. She laughed and placing it close to my face she then ground it into the floorboards with her stiletto heel.
“Now – Damien and I will live happily ever after,” she laughed. It was an almost maniacal laugh that made my blood run cold.
“Unfortunately we can’t take the risk of letting you live,” she said, raising the gun and taking aim at my head, “we don’t want you tampering with the story again – do we?” But then the expression on her face rapidly changed from one of dominance to absolute terror as she slowly faded away, leaving nothing but a wisp of white smoke and then even that disappeared.
It obviously hadn’t occurred to her that with no manuscript there was no story, and with no story, there were no characters – they were all gone forever.
My foot had some smashed bones but I was out of the hospital the next day and helped back to the apartment by Nina. She stayed around to look after me until I got back on my “foot” and I began to realize just how much she meant to me.
I’ve done quite well in the mail order business and I’ve actually penned a book on the subject that is doing quite well on Amazon. It’s enough to feed my writer’s ego but I sometimes get the urge to venture into fiction again, perhaps write a fairy tale book for our two kids. However, just in case I really do have the gift for bringing my characters to life I don’t want to take the risk of having Dragons and Goblins tearing around our kitchen. THE END
Copyright 2015-2016 Cristiano Caffieri
The characters portrayed in my stories are, for intents and purposes, fictional and any similarity with persons living or dead is purely a product of your imagination.
You may not sell, license, sub-license, rent, transfer or distribute any part of my stories or images in any format, or claim ownership.