Being Luca's is published today, so I have to tease you from there now don't I?
Luca stared at his feet. His shirt stuck to his torso and his damp trousers rasped against his dick, which to his intense joy was in its usual state around Leigh. It pushed against the fine linen, and begged to be free to play with her. Why hadn't he gone against his normal habits and put some boxers on? At least then there would be less chance of his trousers being stained with pre-cum as well as red wine.
Because I thought there was as much chance as a snowball in hell at feeling like this.
"Well?" Leigh prompted him. "Speak now or forever hold your peace. That's spelled p e a c e, not p i e c e, as in cover your bits in case I do them an injury."
"Cara you couldn't do them any more injury that they have at the moment."
Leigh leaned forward. "How do you mean?"
He shrugged. In for a penny. "To be crude, since we, she, then … ah since you left me I can't get it up?"
"What? You mean you've been trying to fuck the world and his wife and realized you can't?" She screeched the words and Luca winced.
"No, I promise you, no. I've tried to help myself but with no luck. My cock has remained as deflated as a balloon with no air in it."
"Or a condom with no dick?"
He chuckled. "That's about it."
"So er why?" Leigh gestured to his front, where a hard ridge was outlined under his trousers.
"That, my dear, is one of the mysteries of my body. This," he ran his hand over the length of his cock, "hasn't come out to play for months. One glimpse of you and he's begging for help."
"Well he can beg away. I don't take other peoples left overs. Soiled goods and all that."
"Do you think I was a virgin when we met?" Luca asked her. By god he knew in her eyes he'd done wrong and boy had he paid for it. Over and over. Without uttering one word in his defense. Tried and convicted on the words of a trashy paper and an even trashier columnist. And after tomorrow he reckoned he'd be paying for the rest of his life. Which if he didn't get his act together and concentrate on his job could be a shorter period of time than he would like.
Leigh looked startled. "No of course not. Nor was I."
"But we took each other then, didn't we? Soiled, used, second hand, whatever."
"That was different. It was before us."
He nodded. "Of course it was. And we promised to forsake all others, and it looks like I didn't. But Leigh, we've never ever talked about that night. You've never let me tell you what happened."
"I know what happened," she said. Her mouth was set in a stubborn line. "I came home for the weekend, to help your mum cos she had broken her arm. You won the race and the championship and celebrated by fucking a whore. My alleged best friend. You didn't even ring me to tell me you'd won, let alone you'd been playing tonsil tennis and cock in a cunt with someone else. I found out when a gossip rag journalist rang me at 5 am to ask if it was true, and did I have anything to comment. That was a fine wake up call I tell ya.'
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