No man could have such good fortune and be endowed. The universe was never kind. But she’d heard stories quite the contrary. And naked photos, leaked on several blogs last year showed him swimming with his sweet dimpled ass in the air and his yummy cock hanging low. His dick, subjected to gossip, was touted as large as an Evian bottle. The memory from those images made her pussy ache with need. She wondered if she could take him—Jake David Johnny JFK Jr. Evian bottle and all.
* * * * *
It’s the Taj Mahal. The Tittoni’s estate entrance stood as she imagined—baroque in design, ornate in style, gaudy in size and gilded from top to bottom. An expansive stucco exterior didn’t intimidate her compared to the Park Avenue high rises Lex had lived in as a kid. It was the man inside who terrified her. The prince held her fate in his hands. At his whim, she could be relegated to poverty for a second time. It was one thing to rebuild once, but twice—impossible.
Pushing the intercom’s button, she tried to stand taller and licked her lips. Here I flippin’ go. A sweat bead ran down her neck, coming to rest between her breasts. The humidity increased by the second, causing her favorite yoga style pullover, a cream colored sheer jersey trimmed in chiffon she’d designed and titled “The Jet Setter,” to cling to her. It felt tight, shrinking. And her underwear rode up in places which hadn’t seen action in a long time. She should’ve at least worn a thong or maybe nothing at all. Why she’d sported her granny panties was anyone’s guess.
A small video screen embedded in the pillar to her left lit up. A man in a vest, no doubt a butler asked, “Posso aiutarla?” The voice came over again, “May I help you?”
She smiled, despite the man’s brisk tone. “Yes, thank you. I’m Lex Easton, here to see Prince Massimo Tittoni. I’m from Easton Essentials.”
Thin lips compressed together. The man released and divulged, “I’m sorry, Signorina Easton. His Majesty is on holiday until the fall season.”
Massimo told her he’d be here. She needed to talk to him. “I spoke with His Majesty yesterday over the phone. I came from New York—I must see him. Please!”
His eyes widened. “Uno momento prego, I will check,” he grumbled and the screen went blank.
“HEY—hello?” Was the butler going to leave her out in the blistering sun and salty ocean air to ripen akin to a blood orange? Her skin would peel at any minute. This is hell.
An eternity passed and the gates opened. Then a tall figure walked down the main driveway.
“Signorina Easton, my name is Roberto. We spoke on the phone. Benvenuta to the palace of the Tittoni family.”
Much better. Lex breathed in relief as he extended his hand taking her roller bag. “I’m the estate manager. I live here on the island year round.”
In a tuxedo? How uncomfortable. Wearing a black bow tie with matching cummerbund, he dressed similar to a waiter, perhaps one who served caviar at a five star restaurant.
“Is the prince able to meet with me? Did you tell him I’m here?”
“His Majesty is aware you’ve arrived. But he can’t see you right now. He’s out by the garden pool entertaining. He asks in the interim I give you a complete tour.”
“How kind, although I’m not sure we have time. I’ve got to make the last boat to the mainland. It leaves in two hours, but I would care to use your restroom and freshen up.” She looked around for the garden or a pool and didn’t see either. “Where is the pool?”
He eyed her without conviction and responded, “We have three pools, the Olympic sized indoor pool off the gymnasium. It’s used for calisthenics.” One long finger pointed south as he continued, “An ocean view pool with natural salt water for sunning, and my personal favorite.” He gave her a fake smile, “And the garden pool.” He stopped and stared at her. “It’s a nudist pool, for pleasure. His Majesty created it to resemble the Garden of Eden.”
“Nice to hear the prince lives up to his tabloid reputation. He gets publicity on his social activities.” She offered him a tight smile in return but felt a little guilty for being snarky. After all, she came here for business. She couldn’t let her mind wander about poolside pleasures.
“The prince instructed he will join you for dinner in the Tancredi wing’s formal dining room, on the main floor at sunset. He’s offered to put you up at a villa for the night. The windows face the sea. You’ll have Malta views. Farther out is Tunisia. We’re very isolated out here. You may sun and swim your day away.”
She hadn’t packed a swimsuit. She didn’t own one.
“Thank you, but I won’t be staying. I’ve rented a room in Sicily for the night. Tomorrow I fly to Milan for a work event. I need to meet with His Royal Highness and get my shipment cleared through customs from your factory.”
“Sì I’ll show you to your room. You may use the facilities as you requested.”
Lex nodded allowing Roberto to lead her through the grounds, passing row after row of exotic looking flowers. Their sweet smell, heightened by the island’s heat, made the air rich, intoxicating and heavy, resembling steeping dessert tea with sugarcane. Her senses awoke, turned on by a flowery smell. Pearl white dahlias, baby pink roses and amethyst lilac bushes reached for the sun’s rays, each blossom fuller than the other. In recent times, she felt she was those sweet flowers, reaching for the sky, ready to be plucked and enjoyed. But it hadn’t happened in god knew how long.
From somewhere behind the main manor, Lex heard high-pitched laughing. The direction remained unclear.
Those aren’t kiddies giggling.
“Here we are, Signorina Easton. You’re in the Plaza da Villa. A smaller guesthouse. If I’d known you planned on visiting, I would’ve prepared our larger quarters, on the south side.” He pushed the oak double doors open, allowing the sunlight to spill into the suite.
A “small villa” here could be a penthouse in the Big Apple. Its imperial design included a master bedroom with spa, two smaller bedrooms, and a sitting area with fireplace, dinette, and four balconies with panoramic seashore views. The eye catching suite dripped spectacular. How unfortunate she wouldn’t be staying long enough to enjoy its amenities. In any case, she loathed the beach. Pale as the moon, she didn’t care to show much skin.
She stepped into the lavish living area. “Roberto, I won’t be here long. I’ve taken up enough time, thank you.” She reached in her purse to pull out a tip but realized she’d given her last dollar to the boatman.