A tale of art and lust

I worked in an art gallery in Venice, ideal to meet girls who came around to check out the exhibit. One day, when I was about to close, a beautiful girl showed up, coming in but not entirely. The room was dark and it was sunny as hell outside, so my image of her was that of an angelical girl framed by a chiaroscuro. Gorgeous; long legs, small shorts, and a backpack. She had just arrived to Venice. I kept staring at her, and she smiled shyly when she noticed. I started fantasizing about having her right then and there. We were alone. She took her time, and when she was done, I closed. I started walking home, and she came along very naturally with me. She needed a place to stay. Not to appear too straightforward, I helped her getting a room. Besides, a friend of mine had come to visit.

The three of us spent the whole day together. We got drunk, and went to the flooded San Marco's square barefoot. This new girl and me couldn't stop staring at each other; but we didn't want to leave my friend aside. It actually made the tension grow between us.

While walking back home, rain started to fall again. We found shelter. Alone, the three of us kept on talking and laughing. New girl had my jersey on. She was cold. I started warming up her hands holding them inside mine. We kept looking at each other, less and less shyly. So I started caressing her thighs, discreetly. I wanted to see how she reacted to my touch. I wanted her to desire me, while our own complicity remained barely noticed by my friend. I wanted her breath to accelerate and become deeper, her cheeks redder, her legs shaky. So I continued my way up through her shorts. She still held herself amazingly well, looking at me with a kinky smile, arousing discreetly. I started going inside her with my fingers.

The rain stopped. We ran to my house; left my friend in there, and started heading to her place. We couldn’t wait any longer. I knew a hidden little garden facing a small canal. It was late, and though we heard footsteps from time to time, we didn’t mind enough for us to stop.