#shay replies

Risotto: He never thought he’d be back in hometown inSicily especially so soon. It had been a little over 5 years since he had lefteverything behind. When he was assigned an assignment to take out a targethere, he wanted to pass it on to someone else, but the situation called for him.Evidently, almost nothing had changed, only a few new businesses had poppedup and some of his favorite stores he loved visiting as a child had closed down. Hedidn’t have the luxury of walking around in the open; he would stand out toomuch and be recognized. Using Metallica to cloak himself in case he needed togo out, other than that he had to hide out in his motel room until his mission wascomplete. This whole assignment had Risotto convinced Boss was doing this tospite him in hopes to bring up old memories. Boss doesn’t know much aboutRisotto or his stand, but he does know where Risotto originates from. He probablyexpects the assassin to “feel” something “nostalgic” from this trip. Begrudgingly,old memories stirred up for Risotto, memories of the family he abandoned. A smallprice to pay to avenge the murdered child of his cousin. It wasn’t like Risottohad many happy memories here. All his life he felt estranged and detached from thepeople of the Sicilian town, only ever feeling attached to his family, thebeauty and history of his home, and someone special.

Until he was 18, Risotto was once an awkward short teen, hitting his growthspurt when he was 16 and towering over his classmates who often bullied him forbeing the shortest and then for being the tallest. His neighbor and classmate wereoften there to speak up for him and defend him. The bullying never got to Risottobut to watch someone defend him with such passion, feelings began to develop.They spent much of their time together; she was there to support Risotto and theNero family when their family member was killed by the drunk driver even whenRisotto lashed out at her to leave him alone. She stuck by his side, and she was the one who Risotto lost his first kiss and virginity to. He thought she couldbe the one who could help him make peace with the cruelties of this world, butwhen he heard this family member’s murderer was going to be free after justfour years, any thoughts of settling down and living a normal life no longerexisted for him. He left his family and left her without a word.

He found himself thinking about her without warning one night andmindlessly went out without hiding himself to walk and feel the cool airagainst his skin. He needed to feel something, to experience the nostalgia ofbeing back home at least once. He knew it was a senseless and reckless thing todo, but he didn’t care. On his walk, he heard his name being called out, knowinghe had been recognized by a local. Deep down, maybe it was something he wanted.To be remembered as the young, awkward, Sicilian boy and not the cold-bloodedmurderer he had become. When he turned to look at his caller, his breath hitchedwhen he discovered who it was.

“Is that really you?” He heard no resent in her question, just confirmher suspicions. As she walked closer, her eyes and smile grew wide, extending herhand to wave eagerly at him. “Long time no see, Ris!” Just like nothing haschanged, she softly punched his chest, and he couldn’t fight his smile.

“It has.” He wanted to say more but couldn’t bring himself to. He simplysmiled down at her, hoping she would continue, but she equally struggled to saysomething, making the air awkward.

“Who’s that?” A small voice bringing them out of their own world. Risottohadn’t noticed the small presence holding the hand of his former lover. A smallgasp escaped his lips when he saw the little girl with ashy hair and red eyes. Thislittle girl couldn’t be…

“He’s an old friend of mine, sweetie.” She explained, nonchalantly. Herbehavior made Risotto question if this was his child. The little girl’s appearanceand the time he left, it added up but her casual attitude made him questionhimself.

The little girl remained watchful and looked Risotto up and down, observinghim. He watched her for a reaction, but the little girl gave him nothing,completely stoic. Though, she did stick her tongue out at him when he staredfor too long.

“Are you just visiting or…” His childhood friend asked, unsure if shewanted to know his honest answer.

“Visiting.”

“Oh. I see.” He watched as disappointment made its way onto her features,but she quickly perked up. “If that’s the case, come have breakfast with ustomorrow morning! We were just out buying some last-minute groceries, turns outwe were out of eggs and milk and a few other things. You should come over beforeyou go!” She offered, hopefully.

When Risotto opened his mouth to decline, a simple “okay” came outinstead. His childhood friend enthusiastically told him where she lived and thebest to go over while the child frowned and pouted, scrunching her nose at Risottobut said nothing. When her mom wanted to continue her conversation, she pulledat her mom, telling her she was tired and wanted to go home. They bid their goodbyesuntil the morning.

Risotto had a mind to simply not show up, but his mind was not beingreasonable, so he found himself eating breakfast with the mother and child.Risotto and his childhood friend talked and caught up. She spoke animatedly abouther career and hobbies while Risotto nodded along. She did all the talking andnever once made Risotto explain himself for leaving so abruptly without sayingso much as a word to her. While she spoke passionately about herself, she madeno mention of where this child came from.

“Can I go play outside?” The child asked before pushing her empty plateto the middle of the table.

“Oh. Don’t you want to get to know Mr. Nero?”

“No.” She said bluntly.

“It’s alright. Let the child play outside. She must be bored just hearingus talk.” Risotto interjected. He wanted to speak privately anyway. The child narrowedher eyes before heading off outside.

“I’m sorry about her. She’s can be very straightforward about her thoughtsand feelings.” She apologized, getting up to wash the dirty dishes. “People sayshe’s exactly like me when I was her a-“

“Who is her father?” Risotto interrupted 

She pressed her lips into a thin line and went silent, letting the sink faucet run, the running water replacing their conversation with neither of them moving an inch for a couple of minutes.

“I-“ She paused again. “I’ll discuss this…” She sighed. “I can’t say, not when you’re leaving again.”Her voice shook.

“So she is mine?” Risotto asked one last time to confirm.

“I…Yes. I’m sorry…” She breathed, Risotto watched as her shouldersshook but didn’t move to comfort her. He had his own feelings he needed to sortout. What did this mean for him? Did this change anything?

“Has she ever asked about me?” Risotto wondered out loud, catching himselfand her off guard. She looked down at her fiddling hands and thought deeplyabout his question.

“Only once.” She said honestly. “Only once did she ask where her fatherwas. When I told her I didn’t know, she never brought it up again.”

Risotto bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself composed; hecould not let this get to him. Not here. He got up before asking permission tospeak to the child.

“You're not going to tell her, are you?” She instinctively moved to block the door. He could see the fear,distress, and hope in her movement, expression, and voice. Fear and distress as to what the child couldfeel and hope that it could mean Risotto would stay.

“I am not. I just want to speak to her if you’ll let me,” Risotto reachedout and held her cheek to calm her. She relented and gave him permission as shesat down to collect herself.

Risotto found his child sitting by a tree, seeking shelter from theunforgiving sun and saw her filling in a coloring book. She must have grabbedit before heading out. She glanced up when he approached, giving him a quick “hi”before returning to her messy coloring. Knowing that this little girl was hisdaughter caused his heart to lurch, and he was angry at himself for it but choseto ignore it in the moment.

“Hello,” he greeted awkwardly, seating himself next to her.

“… Hi.” She responded quietly, not looking at him. Risotto noticed her downtrodden faceas she colored absentmindedly. As the adult, Risotto figured he had to strikeup a conversation, but his child beat him to it.

“That’s the happiest I have seen mom in a long time…” She opened up, “EvenI never made her that happy,” she said mumbled bitterly. Risotto didn’t know a childher age could saying something with such bitterness. She stabbed her cartoon onto the page and color furiously,breaking the crayon in the process. “… Thanks for making mom happy, I guess,”she muttered.

Unable to find the right words, Risotto placed his large hand on her headand gently ruffled it. Without direction, his child leaned into him and restedher head against him. The sadness on her face chipped away at his heart. Thiswas his child, and he had no way of comforting her; he couldn’t tell her who hewas to her. Not when he couldn’t stay.

“Are you my dad?” She suddenly threw her question at him.

He paused before asking, treading light. He didn’t want to break his word to the mother. “Why do you think that?” He wanted to know.

“Because of how happy mom was when she saw you because we share the samecreepy eyes.” She said, pointing to her own.

“Creepy?” Risotto repeated?

“That’s what all the kids here say about them. My eyes are creepy,” shesaid, matter-of-factly and unbothered.

“They aren’t creepy,” Risotto expressed, a protective and sudden paternalside manifesting, wanting his child to be confident in her appearance.

“Are you my dad?” She repeated, ignoring Risotto comment.

He remained quiet, knowing his silence was both an answer and not an answer at once,and she seemed to accept that and chose to go back to drawing. Things suddenlybecame tense, and Risotto realized he had made a mistake and stayed too long.He had to go. Without warning, he used Metallica’s ability to cloak himself andleft without uttering a word to his daughter and former lover. As time passed,the young girl’s mother came by to check on her.

“Where is Mr. Nero?” She asked her lonely daughter who told her that heleft a while ago.

“He told me to tell you sorry that he couldn’t say good-bye and that he’llmiss you,” she lied, hoping she lessened the blow for her mother.

“Is that so?” She smiled understandably, kneeling to give her daughter asoft kiss on the forehead. “That was very kind of him. Thank you, bambina.” Thelittle girl trembled and wrapped your arms around her mom’s neck, fighting theurge to cry. “There, there, my little sweet pea. There is no reason to cry.” Shetook her into her arms and carried her away, leaving her coloring book behind andtaking her inside.

The mother and daughter did not come out the rest of the night when Risottofound himself on their property once last time. He was tempted to cloak himselfand see them one last time but now had enough sense to know it was not a goodidea and would stop him from going back to Naples and his team.

As he began to walk off, he noticed the coloring back, picking it up and flippingthrough the pages. He smiled at his child’s reluctance to stay inside the lineand using random uncommon colors for common things. He didn’t expect to takeany gifts for back home, but he carefully placed the coloring book in hissuitcase when he finally headed back to his new home in Naples.

In your past relationships, you couldn’t do half the things you’ve done with Melone. You felt no shame asking him to get you a collar or to use a strap. You felt liberated. 

You first met him out of the blue, when he approached you as you struggled to carry your bags back to your apartment. Noticing you had run of food, you hurried to a nearby shop. In your hast and body aching for some kind of food, you had forgotten to bring your shopping utility chart that made the process easier. That’s how you found yourself sweating and red-faced, walking back with hands full and arms aching until an alluring voice as if you needed help. Before you could say anything, a tall blond man gentle lifted if from your own hands, reaching out to take the other.

Despite insisting of your own competence, you were transfixed by his smile and welcoming eyes, giving in to his gesture. Part of you thought it was a bad idea allowing a strange man to know where you lived, but your attraction for the man was stronger than your rational side.

It seems the man, Melone, had the same idea as you because when you reached your place, he had secured your phone number with ease. You would be ashamed to admit that this was after a heated make-out session and another way to thank him on your living room couch.

Not know what came over you, you had invited him in, offering to make him coffee as your own ‘thank you’ gesture. He followed you closely behind, ‘accidentally’ brushing up against you as you in your small kitchen. While he could have taken a seat at your table, something about the situation made your groin ache, so you never offered him a seat.

Melone was certainly a man who communicated with as much physical contact as he could get it. Often placing his hand over yours when you began talking about yourself. He was bolder than any man you’ve met; he was a man who knew what he wanted and went after it. Again, you felt your lower stomach pulsate with desire.

You took your coffees to the couch, using the opportunity for your bodies to be closer. As he sat, Melone placed his cup of coffee on the table and put his arm around your waist, pulling you to him until you were hip to hip. Despite his appearance, there was strength underneath his lean frame. 

“Don’t be so distant, amore,” Melone purred into your air, making you quiver as you felt his hot breath on your ear and neck. “How will we get to know each other if you continue to be so shy.”

You were a loss for words, mind going haywire when his hands caressed your ass, giving it light squeezes. He was shameless, but could you judge him when this is what you were desiring as well?

“Do you always allow strange men into your home or am I only one?” He brought his other hand to your hip and pulled your body closer until you were on his lap. You gasped when you went to answer, feeling his soft lips on your neck, nipping and kissing over and over. You rubbed your legs together, concentrating so a moan wouldn’t escape. “Well, amore?” You took deep breathes to regulate your breathing.

“You’re the only one,” you said breathlessly. You could feel him smile into your skin and didn’t fit when he started to suck, undeniably leaving a bruise. You cursed yourself, calling yourself loose for letting a man you’ve met less than 2 hours ago to suck at your neck, but it felt exhilarating and wanted more. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt adrenaline rush through your veins.

“A true honor.”

Nipping and sucking of your neck quickly found their way onto your breasts as you straddled Melone and let him lift your shirt, exposing enough to let his mouth and tongue give your sensitive nipples the attention they’ve been craving. You gasped each time he had them in between his teeth. 

While he gave your breasts his attention, you rewarded his kindness by grinding against his growing erection. You felt like a tease, half-expecting him to throw you off him for not making an effort to do more like a previous relationship, but Melone seemed to like the friction and tormenting letting you continue, occasionally feeling his moans vibrate when he engulfed your tit with his mouth.

Your own excitement and eagerness were impossible to hide, quickly throwing aside your own hesitance and decided to listen to the in your core, choosing to satisfy it. You took his head and pulled him off your tit with a ‘pop’ and brought him into a heated, sloppy kiss. As you kissed, you pressed down harder onto his hard cock until you were both moaning into each other’s mouths. 

In your dazed state, you lowered yourself onto the floor and on your knees, fingers quickly working off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. He spread his legs wider to give you more room between his legs. He lifted his hips slightly to assist you until you were faced with his cock. 

In all your life, you never expected yourself to lick your lips when seeing a guy’s dick, much less have it water. You felt like you should feel ashamed, but at the moment you wanted to take this pretty man’s cock and suck the soul out of him. In the past, you’ve been berated by your previous partners, mocking you for your technique and making you feel self-conscious about your abilities, but you found yourself on your knees for this man and hoped he would be kinder.

You took him into your mouth instantly and without warning, letting your enthusiasm get the best of you. Melone wrapped his fingers into your hair and pulled you off, forcing you to look up at his dark eyes.

“Use your tongue,” his warned making you shiver, making you desire him more. Stopping to collect yourself, you began instead by kissing his inner thighs, earning an approving hum from him. You imitated the same nipping and sucking he gave you, shifting your eyes to watch his cock twitch as you moved closer. He wasn’t expecting for you to lap your tongue over his balls, focusing a guttural moan from him that only increased in volume as you took his balls into your mouth before you moved your attention to his cock, glistening in precum.

Your tongue collected the translucent drop that traveled down the base of his cock willingly until your tongue was on the head of his cock using the tip of your tongue to give attention to his slit. 

“You eager little slut,” he huffed, “and we’ve just met.” There was no judgment or scrutiny in his voice, only amusement and glee, making you smile. You made sure his cock was covered in your saliva before taking him once more, this time his hands tenderly pushed your hair to the side, his fingering working to massage your scalp. You could feel his cock twitch more and more as you bobbed your head, using your tongue to focus on the underside of his cock.

Your jaw began to hurt, making you pull back every now and then to rest before going back. Making this guy cum was harder than you thought. At first, you kicked yourself thinking your technique was bad until you looked up and saw the mischevious smile on his face. He did this often and a lot. He wanted you to work for it.

Sucking him and fondling his balls seemed to do the trick, watching him as he bit his bottom lip and beads of sweat started to drip down his face, forcing him to pull you off him until ribbons of cum landed on your face and hair. You remained still, eyes closed so his semen wouldn't get into your eye. 

You felt him get up and come back with a wet towel probably from the kitchen and helped you clean up.

“My apologies, amore,” he said, wiping himself off from your hair. “It would have been rude of me to force you to swallow something so distasteful. I haven’t been eating my fruits lately.” He booped your nose and kissed it. 

You looked at him with doe eyes, going back to the same bashful person he had run into and his eyes darkened with lust.

“I’ve been so kind to me,” he held out his hand for you to take to direct you to the couch and onto your back, pushing your knees open with his body and preventing you from closing them. “Let me return your kindness.”