One year ago ...
Although the meeting wasn't entirely without merit, it was dragging on and on. I could see from the windows that the snow outside was really coming down, but I knew Andrew would be waiting by my desk to meet me for lunch. Being in customer service had been like a calling to me because I loved helping others, but oftentimes, I felt like I didn't have any real power in my job and the tedium of official red tape could be a bit unwieldy at times.
Today's meeting was no different, for the most part, giving us helpful tips, but also full of lots of policy and procedure on what we could and couldn't offer to our customers. However, what was different today was the breathtaking view. Joining us was a mysterious man from our home office in Italy and he was a sight to behold.
Flawless tanned skin, jet black hair, and eyes as dark as Andrew's that seemed to be pinning me in place when I glanced over at him were directly across the long conference table from me. His exquisite tailored suit clung to his muscular form, showing almost too good of a body for a man who spent all of his time working at a desk in an office.
I was a happily married woman, but my eyes could still enjoy what was before them. I may have found myself staring back more than I should have to properly focus on the meeting agenda.
"Finally," Bob, who led the other product team, said, "I'd like you all to officially meet Antonio Bianchi from the Milan office. He'll be leading our counterparts over there, so he is going to be spending the next few weeks here to get familiar with how we do things in New York. He'll be taking some time each day to sit with some of you for an hour or two and listen in on each of your calls. I know we're keeping you all from your lunches, but please take a minute to introduce yourselves to Antonio. Any help you can give him in settling in would be appreciated." Bob looked right at me and added, "Violet, Antonio was telling me that he was looking for a good place to find good Thai food in town. I know you were telling me that you have a specific restaurant you're very passionate about. Maybe you could pass along the information?"
Bob was such a nice guy that I didn't think twice when he asked me. I smiled and replied simply, "Sure."
As soon as we adjourned, Antonio was at my side. Those dark eyes continued to undress me where I stood as he extended his hand to shake it, perhaps a bit too close to my chest. "Hello, Violetta."
Antonio's deep voice was almost as arresting as his appearance. A little casual flirting surely seemed harmless enough, especially since he would be headed back to Italy for the long haul in two weeks and was likely about to see Andrew in person in just a few minutes. I could always use the thoughts of Antonio as ammunition for even hotter sex with Andrew later tonight.
"It's nice to meet you, Antonio," I told him, "I'd love to help you find the Thai restaurant I'm talking about, but I'm late for some lunch plans that I have. If you'd like, I'd be glad to exchange cell phone numbers and I can get you the information later?"
"Certainly," he said, speaking in his almost lilting accent and pulling out his cell phone from his tailored suit pocket, punching a few buttons, and handing it to me, "Why don't you enter your number in and I'll send you a text right now?"
I took the phone and quickly entered my number under 'Violet Riley', then handed it back to him. He typed out a quick text and then I got it on my phone:
Text from unknown number: Ciao Violetta
I smiled and replied back, simply: Got it. Thanks. I'll send you the restaurant name after lunch.
As I walked to my desk, Antonio followed. When I arrived, Andrew was standing there in his tank and shorts, straight from his workout, all of his muscles on display, looking simply luscious.
"Vi," he nearly groaned, his face spreading into a wide smile as he saw me. We weren't a PDA type of couple, so I just joined him at his side. "Are you ready to go?"
"I am, just as soon as I slip my boots on," I told him, as I grabbed my purse from my desk drawer. I slid my heels off and slipped my feet into my snow boots, then turned to see Antonio standing behind me. "I'll talk to you after lunch, Antonio."
~-~
When I returned from lunch, Antonio was pulling up a chair next to my own at my desk with my boss, Barbara. "I'd like to have Antonio sit with you first, Violet," said Barbara.
"Certainly," I told her, putting my purse in the drawer and sitting down.
A few minutes later, Antonio and I had gone through some of the basics and I'd taken a few phone calls. While I was on the phone, Antonio listened in on a second muted headset.
After one of the calls, he reminded me about the Thai restaurant, so I sent him a text with the information. He replied back: Grazie, bella ❤
I translated the message to see that it said, "Thank you, beautiful"
I tried not to blush as I read his reply.
Later on, Antonio asked if he could excuse himself for another cup of coffee. It seemed a good time for a break, so I set my phone to away and we both stepped away. Oddly, as soon as he stepped away, Antonio headed to the men's room. A minute or so passed and then my phone vibrated. I opened it to see the notification of four new messages from Antonio Bianchi. Clicking in to the messages, there were three text-only messages and they were all in Italian, and then there was a photo message, which was still downloading - remarkably slowly because of bad cell phone reception in our building. I didn't speak Italian, but I was tempted to translate it all while I was waiting for the picture to download.
The translation came back as: Could you please send me another picture of your feet, Vittoria? The American woman I'm sitting with is making me so hard. I can't wait to give you this when I'm back in Italy again.
I shrugged, assuming it was an odd translation, but clearly a text meant for someone else. Still, I let the picture finish downloading, and then was astounded by what I saw.
The biggest cock I had ever seen outside of a porno, was completely visible on my phone, with Antonio's hand tightly wrapped around it, fluid dripping from the tip.
While it still was clearly not a message meant for me, this was not a wrong translation - except for perhaps the part about feet? This was a sext and a dick pic, and drop-dead gorgeous Milan office Antonio Bianchi was likely jacking off in the men's room - because sitting with me had made him hard - as I sat there next to the coffee machine staring at the picture of his massive erect manhood with a dripping wet tip.
I wish that I could say that my mouth ran dry in shock, but I found myself salivating at the thought. I stood there at the coffee station in the break room, staring at my phone screen and the picture, pondering that. There was something so exciting about knowing I brought a man to that point, especially seeing the results; knowing he was so aroused that he couldn't help but touch himself - that he was so turned on it was already giving off the beginnings of a release. I would never do anything about it with him, but the thought of that beautiful thick shaft dripping like that had me dripping, too.
A few moments later, I saw Antonio walking back towards my desk and took a deep, cleansing breath. I had about ten seconds to make a decision as to how I would handle this situation.
Clearly, he would discover his own mistake soon, so it was probably best to come clean with him that I saw it. But ... how?
I took one last look at the work of art on my phone screen and pressed delete. Goodbye, lovely picture of a lovely cock I'd likely never see again. I began composing a reply text and typed out:
I think you sent me someone else's text by mistake. I don't speak Italian, so I just deleted it.
Before I could hit send, Antonio was standing behind me and said, "Ah, there you are, bella. I couldn't figure out how to work the coffee maker. Perhaps you can help me?"
I cleared the text from my phone screen, figuring it would be easier to just tell him in person. I began to set up the Keurig for him. "Sure, Antonio. Umm, just so you know, I got a text from you a few minutes ago. I think you sent it to me by mistake, though. It was all in Italian and I don't speak the language, so -"
In an instant, Antonio whispered at my ear, cutting me off. "Did you translate it like you did my earlier text?"
I took a deep breath. I'm a horrible liar, so I had to go with the truth or he'd know I was lying. "Yes."
Still at my ear, he murmured, "I don't mind if you saw that text message. Did you see the picture?"
Shit.
"Maybe a little." I held up two fingers, to show my words, and shrugged. "I deleted it, though."
The deep rumble of his voice nearly against my earlobe had raised the hairs on my neck as he said, "There's nothing little about what you saw in that picture, bella. Did you like the picture?"
Double shit.
Time to shut this down quick before it goes completely off the rails. Without facing him, I replied, "I'm a happily married woman, Mr. Bianchi."
"Was that your husband that I saw you with before lunch?"
Not what I expected him to ask, but it was a good segue. Andrew was a big guy and could be intimidating. If he held some fear of Andrew, perhaps it would dissuade this train of thought. "Yes, that's Andrew."
"Is that his real hair color?" he asked.
My brows knit in confusion, unsure why he would ask that question. "Yes?"
"Ah, so he is - what is the expression you Americans use - 'fire crotch'?"
Fire crotch? Another translation issue? "I don't understand what that means."
"Is his hair that orange color ... everywhere?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "Yes."
"Although I would love to have you all to myself, your husband is very beautiful, too. I'd be very interested in joining the two of you in your bedroom one night while I'm here in New York."
Oh.
Oh!
My eyes went wide with understanding. "So, you like men and women?"
Antonio smiled at me. "Women more than men, but I find each to have its own ... appeal. What do you think? Would this Andrew be open to my joining you together? I would love to pleasure both of you."
I shook my head repeatedly, nearly laughing at the idea of even approaching such a subject with Andrew. "Emphatically, no. Andrew is not the kind of man to share and he only likes women, rather firmly, I'm afraid."
"Ah. Well, if anything should ever change and the two of you would be open to it, or if you'd be willing to join me alone, you have my number. You are a very beautiful woman. Your face, your breasts, your ass, and your very beautiful feet."
Wait - feet? Was that a bad translation? Did he really mean feet? Or was he trying to refer to something completely different?
Whatever the case, my cheeks burned at his compliments. "Uh, thank you, but I don't think that will change anytime soon."
"If you're willing, I wouldn't mind a picture of your lovely feet, though."
Surely, he didn't really mean feet? It had to be a bad translation.
Right?!?
"Let's get you this coffee and then get back to work," I told him.
"Bene," he said, "but I'm going to need extra sugar in that."
~-~
Author's Notes:
Have you ever sent a message (email, picture, or text) to someone you didn't mean to send it to or to someone you wouldn't want to see it - or have you ever gotten a message not intended for your eyes? What happened after it was received?
Votes and comments are always loved and appreciated. You guys are all so beautiful.
Bonus points if you can guess who I was picturing about for Antonio when I wrote his character into the story!