The first time he came to me, I was just finishing the Sunday dishes. “Mom, there’s a man at the door,” Michaela called.

“Who is it?” I asked, walking down the hall, tea towel in hand.

Michaela had left him standing behind the screen. “Are you Mrs. Stevens? Mrs. Rose Stevens?” he asked, all olive-skinned and sable-haired, with a patch over one eye and a long scar defiling his cheek. If it hadn’t been for his outfit – a pink and white seersucker suit topped with a red bow tie – I would have thought him a vicious marauder come to steal my soul.

Hands on hips, I asked. “Are you with the circus?” His appearance was peculiar indeed.

“Oh, the nature of affection,” he replied dryly, smoothing the front of his blazer.

“So what are you selling?” He was no Jehovah’s Witness.

“Well first, I was going to give you my spiel – the very same spiel that I bestow upon every potential customer – but sensing you to be a woman of candor, I will divulge my intentions immediately." He paused, a playful depravity traversing his face. “I am here Madame, to sell you my services.”

“Your services?” I asked, wondering what such a man could have to offer.

“That is correct. I have some brochures here in my briefcase, but if you would kindly step out onto the porch, I would be more than happy to give you a demonstration.”

Apprehensive but curious, I proceeded into the gentle evening air. “Do you have a name?” I inquired curtly.

“It’s Vittorio Raphaele Neroli Pennacchia,” he announced, holding out his hand. “But please, call me Victor.”

When our palms connected, a familiar warmth stirred within my loins and I unwittingly studied him up and down, noting the breadth of his shoulders and the thickness of his legs. “It’s nice to meet you… Victor.”

Moving in close, he stared at me directly, his gaze as fierce as a million passions denied. “I know you, Rose.” He lowered his voice. “I know you better than you know yourself.” Oddly, his aplomb set me at ease and I found myself glancing back into the house, adventitiously hoping for some privacy. Then, like he could read my mind, Victor leaned in until our noses almost touched. “No one will bother us. Now tell me Rose, are you happy?”

“I beg your pardon?” I couldn’t believe the question.

“Are you happy?” he repeated, studying my face with his good eye – a bronze orb fragmented by lively, golden flecks and framed by eyelashes so long that with each blink, I could feel him dragging me further and further into an abyss of salacious ruin. As strange as this may sound, all I wanted to do at that moment was to strip naked and lie down right there on the stoop.

“H…h…happy,” I sputtered, my lips parted.

Pressing his lower half into mine, Victor whispered, “Succumb to your desires, Rose.”

Looking to where our bodies converged, I knew that something unexplainable was happening. With my family no more than twenty feet away, I was prepared to do anything this man might suggest. “I… ummmm…. maybe if you kissed me.”

“A kiss…” he replied, seductively moistening his lips. “A kiss will cost you, my dear.” Staring longingly at my chest, he started slowly undoing the buttons on my blouse, stroking the back of his fingers down my neck. “Your skin is so smooth, Rose. Does your husband like to caress it?”

About ready to swoon, I grabbed his shoulders. “Oh, Victor…”

“Think about my proposal.” His breath was as sweet as honey. “I must be going.”

"Do you have a card?” I asked breathlessly.

“Yes.” He fished into his pants’ pocket, pulling out a piece of paper emboldened with his name in black letters.

“No number?”


“How will I reach you?”

“Dream of me Rose and I'll come back,” he said, picking up his briefcase and heading down the steps.

“Dream of me…” I muttered, watching wistfully as he drove away.


As you might expect, every night thereafter, I did dream of Victor, the images of us together growing increasingly corrupt. As promised, exactly seven days later – with everyone gone for the afternoon – he returned. “Hello, Rose,” he said, eyeing me smugly.

“Hello Victor. I’m glad you’re here.”

I’m sure you are. You’ve been dreaming about me, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” Somehow, he knew.

“How would you like to accompany me to my vehicle?” He pointed to a white cube van parked ominously in front of the house.

I didn’t hesitate. “I would like that.”

“Allow me then.” He held out his arm and led me down the walkway. “After you, Madame,” he said, opening the passenger side door.

“Thank you, Victor.” I climbed in and sat with my hands in my lap.

Walking nimbly around, he then slid into his own seat and turned to face me. “So how are you?”

“Fine and you?”

“I’ve missed you, Rose,” he said, toying with the chain around my neck.

“Really?” I wanted desperately to believe him.

He placed his hand on my thigh. “Really.”

As if I’d been branded, I jumped. “I like you, Victor.”

“I can tell.” He squeezed my knee poignantly.

“What shall we do?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t care.” It was true – I didn’t care what we did as long as we were together.

Victor’s face lit up, his teeth like pearls next to his dark complexion. “How about if you show me your beautiful legs.”

“Like this?” I pulled up my skirt, inviting him to touch me.

“You are very warm. Are you sure you’re feeling well?”

“I’m fine. It’s just that…” I could barely speak, his fingers inching toward my crotch.

Feathering a few kisses onto my neck, he wormed his way past the elastic of my underwear. “It’s just that what?”

“It’s just that you make me so hot.”

“That’s why I’m here. Now open for me. I want to check something.”

“What?” I wanted him to say the words.

And he did, confidently enunciating each syllable. "I am going to check your pussy, Rose - your pretty pink pussy. I want to see if I make you wet." Expertly negotiating inside my panties, Victor then inserted two fingers into my channel and thumbed over my clitoris until I couldn’t help but raise my hips, taking him in more and more until I was grinding away with the rancor of a trapped animal.

“This is crazy!” I wailed at last, hurtling toward climax.

Locking his gaze with mine, Victor watched as I shattered, looming guardedly to contain my movement and engage me fully. “You needed that, didn’t you?” he said once I'd settled.

“I’m sorry I made such a mess of your truck.” The leather beneath me was sticky and wet.

“Oh, Rose. That is hardly a concern. I only hope that you enjoyed yourself.”

“Of course I did. And God forgive me, but I’m already craving more.”

“Let’s leave God out of this, Rose. Besides, we’ll have to save ‘more’ for another day. It’s time you went back.”

“I suppose.” Admittedly, I could’ve stayed with him forever, my legs spread wide, my vagina filled with his digits.

“But I will keep your scent on me.” He lifted his fingers to his nose. “And I will think about you every chance I get.”


The next month was hell waiting for Victor, and just when I thought he'd never return, I heard a knock at the door.

“Rose...” Wearing his usual outfit, he appeared as handsome as ever.


“Are you alone?”

“Yes.” I was glad it was a weekday.

“Shall we?”

“Of course.” Out to the van we went, this time to the back.

Inside, the cargo area was pristine, containing only a small chest, a stool, and a padded platform the size of a double bed. With no windows, when he rolled down the panel door, day turned into night. “Hold on.” He flipped a switch and a soft glow permeated the space. “There. Now take off your clothes.”



“What are we going to do?”

“You’ll see. Trust me.”

In earnest, I flung off my sweater and reached around to unfasten my brassiere, the cups popping up as my breasts fell heavily – swollen and tender.

“You have the most beautiful bosom,” Victor said, removing his suit jacket. “I will take delight in suckling it. Would you like that?”

“Mmmm,” I shuddered, visualizing him plying my mounds.

“OK, now your bottoms.” Victor sat on the stool, extended his legs and leaned against the wall.

Wriggling out of my pants and underwear, I was eager to proceed. “How’s this?”

“Don’t move.” He was fiddling with his trousers to release his manhood, and once liberated, he pumped the purple pillar, intently regarding my form. “You are excited,” he said.

As if he wasn’t. “Yes.”

“I can detect your womanly aroma from here and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I don’t?”

“Well, I want you to touch me, but I only have to be in your presence for my excitement to mount.” A telltale line of moisture trickled from my vagina.

Murderously, he gave his penis a shake. “Come closer.”

“As you wish.” I padded over to within inches of his face.

“That’s better.” Letting go of his cock, he seized both of my hips, brazenly nuzzling into my pubic hair.

“Oh, Victor,” I groaned, the tip of his tongue darting into my bush.

“It’s so good to finally taste you, Rose,” he mumbled. “But we must stop. There’s no telling what might happen if we persist along this path.”

“Victor…” I’d assumed his services would include the two of us intimately engaged, our bodies bound in a myriad of ways.

“I have something else for you instead.” Haphazardly stifling his rampant erection, he brushed past me to get to the storage box by the door. “I am going to lock you up,” he said, wielding a contraption made of crisscrossing metal bars. “You are going to set your neck in here.” He pointed to a leather collar. “And I will bind your wrists and ankles with these cuffs.”

“I am to be your prisoner then?”

“For a while anyway. Now onto your hands and knees. Let’s get you hooked up.”

“OK.” I’d never seen anything like it, and once shackled, I couldn’t help but tremble.

“Don’t worry, my darling. I would never hurt you,” Victor soothed, crouching by the box again. “Soon you will be experiencing a joy so intense that even your worst troubles will vanish. And just so you know…” He turned to give me a knowing wink, “…this van is sound proof.”

“Hurry, Victor,” I cried.

Armed with a few more items, Victor promptly positioned himself at my rear. “Just some final preparations and you will be ready.”

“Ready for what?” I had to know what was coming next.

Ignoring my question, he squirted a dollop of something cool and wet onto my buttocks, smearing the substance around from my tailbone to my bellybutton. Then, plunging what felt like most of one hand into my aching cavity, he began twisting and turning his fingers like he was digging for gold. “You're progressing nicely," he said. Yes, despite the lubricant, I was as accommodating and wet as I’d ever been.

"What are you going to do?” I was nearly frantic.

“Patience my dear. Good things come to those who wait, though I must say, you seem quite intoxicated by the situation,” he laughed, retracting his hand. “In all my life, I’ve never seen a woman so agitated – not to mention sodden – as you are right now. And believe me Rose, I’ve seen quite a few.”

He punctuated the statement by exalting me with a spirited swat on the derriere, following it with another and yet another until I was begging for mercy. "Victor, you're hurting me."

“Oh, you poor dear.” He stroked the affected area. “Is this better?”

“Much better,” I purred.

“And this?” he asked, thereupon nudging my gaping orifice with something else, something blunt, something undeniably inhuman. “It's time to submit Rose. Submit like you've never submit before." Arduously advancing the thingamajig until I was utterly stuffed, he then pressed a button and the whole device began to churn and shake.

“Ooooh...” I sobbed, endeavoring to contend with my special surprise. "This is… this is… glorious."

"I'm glad you approve," Victor said coolly, retiring to his seat. Massaging his cock and pulling roughly at his testicles, he seemed content to observe, but when I started to howl – overwhelmed by the stimulation – he stood, forcefully shoving his drawers to his ankles. “See what you do to me, Rose?” He aimed his penis at me as if it were a gun. “How am I to manage when you insist on driving me mad?”

Thrilled that I could affect him so, shockwaves radiated throughout my body. “Victor… I… I… I’m going to cum…” And I did, longer and harder than I ever had before – my body convulsing and surging until my pussy was numb. “Victor, help. Make it stop!”

Instantly, he hastened to adjust the machine, halting the vibrating but only slowing the whirling to a dull hum. “How’s that?”

“OK,” I gasped, drenched in sweat.

“You are such a good girl Rose and so enthusiastic,” Victor said, kneeling in front of me. “I want to slide my own cock into your pussy so bad.”

“Why don’t you?” It seemed like the logical next step.

He shook his head. “I can’t. But would tasting me suffice?”

“Oh, yes…” I opened my mouth, hungry to possess whatever part of him I could.

“Purse your lips tight.” He pulled back the foreskin on his penis, the eye opening as if in surprise. “I want to know what it's like to penetrate you.” Briefly tracing over the edges of my amenable pink ribbons, he anointed me with his salty cream before thrusting forward. “Oh, Rose. You are a goddess,” he thundered, twisting fitfully at my hair while forcibly fucking my face. "Take it all."

Attempting to do just that – saliva and pre-cum dripping from my chin – I devoured his cock, simultaneously heaving back onto my contrivance of titillation in a swell of rapture and resignation.

When I could no longer move, Victor wound into me languorously, undulating his hips and cradling my head. "Oh Rose. That was unbelievable." And just when I thought he was about to detonate, he shoved away from me like I was somehow holding him hostage. ”That’s enough!”

“What’s wrong?” I panted.

Widening his stance – his chest heaving, his face glistening – he bawled, "I give up!" At that moment, Victor flogged his dick vehemently, gobs of thick, white cream spewing all over the floor. “You are perfect, Rose. Almost too perfect," he declared, squeezing his shaft to purge every last drop.

“What's that supposed to mean?” His statement made no sense.

“Well, my darling, it means that I am forming quite an attachment to you…” He'd begun unbuckling my constraints, “…an occurrence that is highly unadvisable in my line of work.”

"Oh dear. What are we going to do?"

"Get dressed. We'll work something out."

Thereafter exiting the van – the bright sunshine warming our already radiant faces – Victor pulled me in close. In front of a lady and her dog, we kissed passionately – our tongues wanton, our moans intemperate.

I set my palm to his chest. “Victor. I want us to make love.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for that, Rose? If we do, things will change.”

“I don’t care.” I pressed into him, rocking to the rhythm of our charged lust.

“You realize that if we make love, we will be bound to each other forever.”

“I wouldn't have it any other way.” The thought of never seeing him again was unimaginable.

“I’m afraid Rose, you must come away with me then.”

“When? Now?"

"Yes, Rose. Right now." My fate was set.


Inside the house, the children had just returned from school and were scouring the cupboard for snacks. “I can’t find the peanut butter,” Michaela shouted.

"Don't worry, love. Your mom and dad will be home later." Maggie the babysitter walked into the kitchen. "They have a special date planned for tonight."

Outside, as the van pulled away from the curb, Victor and Rose clasped hands over the armrest, their love as strong as the day they'd met, their passion still ablaze after fifteen wonderful years.