When in Rome

HER & HIM | KINKY LOVE | DIRTY TALK | TABOO

Linda is re-learning pleasure after an accident left her with a scar she struggles to accept. During a romantic trip to Rome to take her mind off of the past turbulent months, her boyfriend surprises her with a dose of kinky love. What will the neighbors think of their dirty talk?

Photo of a woman lying in the bathtub with petals and flowers around her depicting the main protagonist of the story by Lisa Opel
© Hannah Postova - Unsplash

Gazing at the domed ceiling, Linda inhaled the sweet scent of the rosewater bath. With the candles flickering as the warm autumn breeze swept through the window, she closed her eyes and sank into the glow of the water. Violin strings and a guitar echoed in the atrium below, Italian ballads ringing through the stucco-covered walls. It felt as if a Romeo was about to crawl in through the overgrown bougainvillea, hydrangea and azaleas on the small French balcony overlooking the courtyard. The voices of other hotel guests were audible but indistinguishable, and, as she gently washed, she found serenity in the anonymity of the city.

It had been three months since the accident, and the scars on her limbs were still fierce and angry-looking. Martin had suggested the short city break to take her mind off of the constant hospital appointments, worry and stress. A weekend to simply let our ‘souls dwindle’ and our hearts rest, he’d said, full of love and calm.

And he hadn’t been wrong.

They’d spent the day roaming through the cobbled streets and twisting, narrow paths. Steering away from the main tourist hotspots, they had cosied up in a tiny restaurant, brimful with memorabilia and an upright piano in the corner, covered with melted candles. They had eaten fresh mozzarella di bufala, pasta alla gricia and bucatini all’amatriciana lapping up the dolce far niente (sweet idleness) of Rome.

They had strolled over the daily market on Piazza Testaccio and kissed in the orange glow of the sun. Ending the day early, they had taken a coffee to go and hiked the Pincian Hill to overlook the city while the sun slowly set. 

It had been idyllic, and Linda had felt the weight of the past months melt into the sun behind the Colosseum.

Her own Romeo was warbling to the musicians outside. A giggle escaped her mouth, and she was delighted at the light-heartedness of the city. Calling out to him, she slid her hands between her thighs, overcome with desire.

Martin entered the bathroom wearing only his tight, white boxers. Her loins fizzed.

‘I’ve got a surprise for you when you’re finished in the bath.’

‘Ok, I’ll be out in a minute,’ she murmured as he left, her fingers now gliding through the soapy suds, over her pubic mound and onto her clit.

It had been a long time since she had connected with her ‘new’ body. The scar below her belly button was one of the mild ones, but, still, she hated looking at herself. Closing her eyes, she allowed just her feelings to steer her actions. And surely enough, she was aroused, relaxed even. Rubbing herself rather furiously now, she could feel Martin’s presence in the room. Overcome with a little shame, she smiled coyishly.

‘You look like a goddess when you touch yourself,’ he grinned, leaning against the doorframe.
‘I’m about to cum,’ she gasped, holding onto the side of the bath with her other hand.

‘Parlami d’amore, Mariù’ rang out in the courtyard, with an urgency and depth that filled the walls of the bathroom with passion.

Breathing a little heavier, inwardly shivering with gratitude that she was here and gazing at this incredible man before her, she lifted herself out of the bath. The soapy water glistened on her naked skin, trailing down her scars and over her pubic hairs and nipples.

‘I want you to feel yourself again, mi amore.’ Martin gazed into her eyes as he helped her out of the bath and wrapped her in a warm, thick, white towel.

As she dried herself, Martin disappeared momentarily. Standing, vulnerable and naked on the cold tiles of the bathroom, she glimpsed the moon through the open French balcony windows. Moving a little closer, covering her breasts with her arm, she could smell the evening air: a mixture of mythology, history and pizza. Yes, definitely pizza.

Martin pressed himself against her from behind and whispered in her ear:
‘I want you to trust me tonight.’

Hesitating momentarily, Linda felt a sudden jolt in her stomach. Excitement, passion, a thrill she hadn’t felt in a while.

‘I trust you.’

The blindfold felt cold and silky as Martin secured it over her eyes. A mixture of soapy water and anticipation wet her inner thighs. With her arm still covering her breasts, she suddenly felt very aware of the open balcony doors.

‘They can’t see me, can they?’
‘No,’
he assured her, ‘but they might hear us soon. Now lean forward and hold on.’

Linda again paused.

Surely they could see her from down in the courtyard. Her heart was beating faster. Grabbing the balcony and letting go of her breasts, she brushed past the scar on her arm. Not being able to see it, she merely winced a little at the memory. But, all of a sudden, it didn’t matter. Whether tipsy from the aperitifs and wine or merely buzzing from the energy of the city and her orgasm, she felt both exposed and invigorated.

‘Night & Day’ trilled through the courtyard, the busy chatter down below oblivious to her nudity. Unaware of her story, her scars. 

She felt more present than ever before, her body feeling everything and her mind blank. She allowed herself to feel and not see or think.

Linda inhaled, closing her eyes beneath the blindfold. Her nipples were hard, and the breeze had raised goosebumps all over her skin.

Martin trailed his hands up the back of her legs, over her butt and round to her breasts, lightly, lovingly.

‘I want you to tell me your needs and desires, Linda. Tell me what you want.’

‘But I, um, I…’

‘Where do you want me to touch you, Linda?’

Linda thought for a moment and then everything became clear.

‘I want your lips on my skin.’

‘Where?’

‘Everywhere.’

Martin did as he was told and kissed Linda from top to bottom. Behind her ears, down her back, her butt cheeks, her thighs… first gently, then rougher, nibbling and biting, relishing in the tiny squeals that emanated from her mouth.

She was getting more and more turned on and, subsequently, finding her voice again, filling her body with pleasure instead of pain and anguish.

‘Lick me.’

Martin licked up the inside of her thighs and nestled his nose between her butt cheeks. She smelled delicious: tangy, musky. Linda’s juices mixed with his saliva as he dipped his tongue in, slowly. Leaning back further, still grasping the balcony, she pushed into his face. Although she couldn’t see, she knew he must be hard. Yet, she was selfishly enjoying this.

‘Just like that. Don’t stop. And play with my clit.’

‘I’m so hard right now,’ Martin mumbled through her vulva.

‘I want you to make me cum,’ she groaned, the orgasm building inside her.

Martin obeyed, his tongue fast, hot and heavy.

‘Linda, fuck. You’re going to make me cum.’

‘Not yet,’ she replied and slipped off of him, turning around and removing the blindfold.

‘On your knees, and lick me till I cum.’

Leaning against the prickly plants and hard balcony frame, she spread her legs. Martin awkwardly got on his knees; the little stones and sand were probably incredibly uncomfortable.

Staring up at her, he smiled. ‘You look divine, Linda.’

Martin kissed along her scar and licked down over her pubes to her clit. His fingers thrust in and out and finally, with his two fingers in her, pushing against her G-Spot, and his tongue circling her clit, Linda burst into orgasm. And not only did her body scream with passion, she did too.

When she opened her eyes again, Martin had cum all over the floor and her feet. Her back was slightly sore from the balcony frame and the flowers, and her feet were freezing.

But she was now also aware of the rapturous applause and raucous calls of congratulations echoing through the courtyard.

Martin grinned. ‘I think that’s for you.’

Linda smiled and bowed to him. ‘Well, you weren’t too bad yourself.’

‘When in Rome, hey?’


 

This story explores the reality of accepting our bodies after traumatic events and using dirty talk as a tool to invite pleasure in via spoken word. Should you be affected by any parts of this, please seek help with professionals.

Should you wish to experiment with blindfolds, please always agree on boundaries and safe words. For more information on this read the following short guide by Yana Tallon-Hicks.

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