HOWIE
I watch my princess as she scoops a helping of spaghetti on her dish. My neighbors, the Count and Countess of Umbria, have come to dine with us. We sip wine and laugh. Lacy is the center of attention. In the dim light of the candles, I see her face shining. Her breasts sit perky in her new pink silk gown. I have given her everything a girl can dream of.
Except for one thing. I see her hand hovering above the pasta. The Countess reaches over and hands Lacy a bowl of parmigiana Romano cheese. Lacy’s left hand grasps it. I see it again. There’s a vacancy because her ring finger looks startlingly bare. There is simply no ring.
People might say I’m crazy. After all, they’ve said it before. I’ve only known Lacy for a month, and I know it’s too soon to propose. She’s only nineteen after all. The girl’s too young. But that’s just where people would be wrong. At this ripe age, with her juicy body and sensual smile, my baby needs to be protected and kept in the lap of luxury, given every sexual pleasure in the world. She is the most perfect specimen of womanhood to grace any continent. I see the Count, even in his old age, admiring my Lacy. She smiles and laughs and makes conversation in broken Italian and English. She’s been studying the language ever since I told her we were going to visit Italy. That’s how excited my little princess was to come here.
And the next two weeks are pure pleasure. We laze by the pool, letting sunlight kiss our limbs. We retreat from the midday sun to make love in the coolness of our bedroom. We eat all the time, my girl downing her pasta like a champ, just the way I like.
Finally, after two weeks in paradise, we board the private jet once more. My darling has a tan from sitting out by the swimming pool in her yellow and white striped designer bathing suit. One day, I convinced her to take it off and sunbathe in the nude. It was a gorgeous vision, and of course I devoured her. How could I stop myself from thrusting into that tight little pussy slit, from milking those hard young breasts?
Not that there was any milk actually coming out. But maybe, just maybe, with all this dirty unprotected sex we’ve been up to, my baby will be pregnant soon. Which makes the ring an even bigger deal. I’m not old fashioned, but I just think it would make things even more magical between us. The vow of fidelity. The merging of our two worlds. Two people becoming one. After all, I don’t have a family anymore so Lacy’s it, and I want to keep her close. I look at her angelic sleeping face as we cross the Atlantic in my jet.
Finally, she wakes like Sleeping Beauty awaking from her centuries-long slumber.
“Are you looking forward to getting back to The Penthouse?” I tease.
“Of course! I can’t wait to get back and see Edwin, and of course, my Aunt Margaret. I even brought back a bottle of limoncello for old Albie!”
I chuckle, helping her step off the plane and board a helicopter that will deliver us at my building.
“Albie does like a drink from time to time.”
The helicopter lifts off and we’re soaring, approaching the island of Manhattan from up above. The view is breathtaking, but nothing compares to my baby.
“And the portraits? Are you ready to get back to being painted?”
“Oh, Howie. Yes I am. I just think maybe you should come with me to the next session?”
I hear the question in her voice.
“Come with? Why, does the painter make you uncomfortable?”
She speaks quickly.
“Oh no, it’s not that. It’s just that I think you would help him if you shared your vision of the paintings with him. I want to make sure you get exactly what you’re paying for.”
I nod as we soar over Central Park. She’s right. It was kind of an oversight on my part to begin the painting process without meeting the artist. I just trusted Edwin to make an informed decision.
“Is he a well-known painter?” I ask curiously. Not that I really know anything about art. All those gallery parties I’ve been to throughout my last decade were pretty boring. But then again, it wasn’t their fault. It was me. I was a shell-shocked mess after the war, and nothing could touch my soul.
Until now. I take Lacy’s left hand in mine. I feel her ring finger and the space I want my ring to go. I lean over and kiss her neck. That’s one of her favorite spots. She starts to melt in her chair. My little girl is horny. I should have known. It’s been hours since I last suckled her pink clit. We’ll be heading straight to the Jungle Room once we land … and I’ll make my favorite girl scream with the best of them.