Steffie’s Stories: Vinny’s Girl
Foreword
Hey guys, it’s Stefania Bertolli. My family calls me Steffie, but I’ll kick your shins if you do. Stef is fine though. It felt cathartic to get that last story off my chest–you know, “My Sister’s Stand-In”–and despite my shitty grammar (partially due to finishing it at 2:30 am) a bunch of you seem to like it. Now, I’m hooked. The fact is, that kind of crap happens to me all the time. I can’t help it, I love sex and I think people can tell. I’m a stage actress and occasional musician, which means I have a lot of encounters. A lot. Like, an embarrassing amount. Sometimes, my nature gets me in trouble with my family. That’s the only time I feel bad about it. If you want to know more about that, read “My Sister’s Stand-In” now a New York Times bestseller. Just kidding. Could you imagine? Anyway, this next story is even more embarrassing. It’s also longer and a little wilder than the last one, so hang on tight.
1
I had a key to Gina and Marc’s big, beautiful house–my home away from home–in the suburbs. I loved it there; my apartment is tiny and I’m getting too old to think a shitty four-level walk-up is cool. Now, I love Gina and Marc, but there were two even bigger reasons for me to visit every other weekend.
“Aunt Steffie!” cheered Isabella as she ran to me with open arms. I scooped her right up in my arms and kissed her chubby cheek.
“Izzy, I missed you!”
“I missed you too!”
Izzy was five. She was a baby yesterday. How time flies!
“Austeffi” Ludovico called from the playroom, running out as quickly as his wobbly legs could take him.
“Hi Ludo!” I beamed, scooping him up for a kiss. “I love you!”
“I duv you, Austeffi!”
I cannot tell you how much joy those kids bring me. I love being their aunt! I’m not just saying this out of bias, but they are beautiful. Everyone says it. They got the best of both parents.
“Where’s mom and dad?” I asked.
“In their bedroom,” Izzy answered. Dad made us breakfast, then told us to watch TV until they came down.”
“Is that so?” I smirked. “Well, you do that. I’ll go unpack.”
I dropped my bag off in my room. It’s their third bedroom, closest to theirs, but it was mine. No one else stayed there. I even kept some of my things there. I unpacked and through the wall heard the playful laughter of two people in love making love. Shit. That was my breaking point. I snuck into the hall and cracked the door open. There they were, in all their glory.
Fuck, I had always wanted to see this. Yes, of course I wanted to catch them fucking. Gina was always my hero, and Marc… Well, I learned how to be a good sister-in-law around him, but the one time we made love was still the best sex I ever had. Don’t get me wrong, I had amazing lovers, like Olympians of sex, who left me sore, weak, and happy, but it still wasn’t as fulfilling that time with the man I had a crush on since I was a little kid. It taught me that love made sex better. I know, corny. True though. I learned to tell the difference, thanks to him.
Marc was behind Gina, thrusting his thick, handsome cock deep into Gina’s wet pussy. It made a glorious squishing sound. He was lost in the action, his eyes glazed over. I missed that gorgeous cock.
Gina, on all fours, was in ecstasy, but in typical Gina style, she was dead silent. Not a loud moaner like her sister, I guess. Her breathing was loud though, panting really. It was oddly sexier. I admired that she didn’t just take it, she gave back. She was rocking into his thrusts to double the impact. Hey, I do that! I knew she was cool.
You don’t truly know a person until you’ve seen them fuck. I know. I’m really fucked up. I should not be watching my sister get rammed by my childhood crush, but here I was. I couldn’t pass up the chance. I don’t know why I did it. It felt intimate; I guess that’s why. I felt closer to them. Anyway, the best part was about to happen.
“Now, Marc,” she cried. “Please, do it now!”
Deftly, Marc withdrew his cock from her twat leaving a line of her pussy drool, and shoved it hard and fast up her exposed, puckered asshole. Amazing, but please don’t ever try that with me, boys. I need it eased in slowly.
“URGH, UUUUH, OH YEAH!” Gina wailed in sweet orgasm. “AUUUUuuggh God. Oh God…” she whimpered. She straightened up and her beautiful, God-given ass clutched Marc’s dick tightly, tugging it straight up as she stretched back to rest the back of her head on his chest. She reached back to put her hand on the back of Marc’s head and pull it in for kisses, which she knew she would get from her perfect man. He devoured her neck adoringly. She wriggled in post-orgasmic pleasure and at last…
“Aaah,” Marc blurted in a fast moan. Gina quickly bucked back and forth on his cock to make him finish strong.
“AAAAUUUUUUUgggggghhhhhh! Ugh, ugh, uuuuuuugh! Ugh, fuck. Oh, fuck yes!”
Marc mecidiyeköy escort came hard. I loved watching my handsome, sweet, silly crush fuck my role model ofwomanhood.
She tilted her head back and kissed his lips. He plunged his tongue in her mouth and she sucked it like his cock. Her clenched ass refused to surrender its prize. I think if she could, she’d keep it up there forever.
She slowly lowered herself back on all fours, like a sex ballerina, face in her blanket, ass up. What a graceful slut, I thought, My hero!
His exhausted pecker slid itself free. No condom. Wow, his jizz was up her ass. That must feel weird dripping out. Amazingly, no grossness on him. What? How? My entire problem with anal is the… uh, residue, but that cock was clean as a whistle. Gina was clearly a seasoned pro.
Thinking I was Gina years ago, Marc offered me anal sex and said, “You want your favorite?” Clearly, that was no joke.
I quietly closed their bedroom door, closed my bedroom door, and masturbated for the shortest time I ever. Seriously, I think I came in 20 seconds. It was sloppy too. I was so wet watching them fuck. K, I’m twisted, so what? Fuck you.
I was redressed and downstairs a minute or so later. You learn to dress fast in theater. I heard the pipes running and knew they were in there together, washing each other and kissing. I just knew it. God, I loved them. If everyone had marriages that good, everyone would be married and all pron would be instructional videos for your partner.
I sat on a stool at their kitchen island and tried to restrain my wicked smile or they’d know what I did. Gina would probably just roll her eyes, but Marc would get embarrassed and then she’d be mad at me.
“Austeffie, pick me up,” said little Ludo, scuttling into the kitchen, and I gladly did (of course I washed up before touching him, you dicks).
“Hey there, Cutie Pitootie. So, what are you gonna eat at the restaurant tonight?”
“I donno. Donuts?”
“Donuts!?” I laughed. “That’s not dinner!”
He snickered.
“You want Chicken Francese?”
“Yes, chicken,” he replied. “No, Francheesy.”
“Ah,” I giggled. “So, order one chicken breast, but tell them to hold the Francese.”
“Crunchy chicken,” he nodded.
“Well, of course!” I squealed, snuggling him.
“Who’s that I hear?” Marc’s voice boomed from the staircase. “Is the freeloading Tart of Greenwich Village in my kitchen?”
I smiled at the voice of my sister’s sweet, playful husband and replied, “You mean your free babysitter? And listen good, mister, my friend Jacob proudly refers to himself as the Tart of Greenwich Village and he will fight you. Well, he’ll give you a stern talking to…and then get drunk and grope you.”
He walked into the kitchen with that big, goofy smile of his, threw his arms around me, and planted a big, wet kiss on my cheek. I lived for those.
“You hungry,” he asked.
“Nah, I had some fruit before the drive.
“What the hell is that? Eat something.”
“You know I barely eat. Stop being so Italian!”
“Well, that makes one of us,” he said, grabbing a muffin from the cupboard.
“Put it back,” Gina said sweeping into the room.
Marc gave her a fake sneer, like some cartoon villain, and threw it back in the cupboard. He walked into the den. Ludo chased after him yelling, “Don ead a food, fat daddy!”
“What’d you call me,” he boomed, scooping up his son and tickling him, setting off a cascade of little boy laughs that made Gina and I smile widely.
“Hi Steffie,” Gina said, gently kissing my temple. Then she slid down to my ear and whispered, “You little fucking pervert. Hope you enjoyed the show.”
Fuck. The bitch notices everything. “Ain’t gonna lie,” I smirked, “It was a hell of a show.”
“You’re a creep,” she replied. “Just be glad Marc didn’t see you peeking through our door or I’d have kicked your ass. It would have messed him up. You know how bashful he is, and he still walks on eggshells around the topic of you and sex.”
“Fine. I’ll be more careful next time,” I winked.
“Next time?” she exclaimed, pounding her fist into her hip.
I chuckled, winking and biting my tongue.
We hung out for the rest of the day. Marc and I watched cartoons with the kids, then I took them to a playground while he slept on the couch, remote still in hand. Gina did some work because that’s what she’s usually doing. Apparently, thirty-five is old for a woman in the business world, so she works twice as hard now to remain invaluable. I’m so glad I went into acting. There were hungry nights and a lot of heartbreak, but there was fun too, and when the curtain fell, you could kick back a little.
She was still a good mom though. She would chit-chat with Izzy over coffee and juice and always dropped whatever she was doing to breastfeed Ludo when it was time. I thought Ludo was a little old to still be breastfed, but she taksim escort bayan read somewhere that it raised kids’ IQs by a couple of points and, as she said, “I want those extra points.” That’s Gina, always doing the extra credit homework. Like I said, great mother.
Before long, it was time to dress up for the party.
2
I hadn’t seen Mom and Pop in almost a year. They retired down to Florida. They were a good couple too, just like Gina and Marc. Gina was mom’s favorite. Vinny was the apple of her eye. Me? Not so much. She loved me, sure, and I loved her back, but I went my own way in life and she didn’t approve. Pop’s love for us was more equal, and so were his opinions. He thought Gina worked too much, he thought Vinny didn’t work hard enough, and he thought–well, knew–that I was a puttana like his sister, Francesca (my favorite aunt–so I took it as a compliment). They both loved Marc and rode both Vinny and I, saying, “When are you going to find someone good to settle down with?” Sometimes that made me never want to settle down, other times, it hurt.
Vinny, as it turned out, did, and that night we were going to meet her.
I liked my life. I liked the stage, the multitude of friends, the parties, the freedom, and goddamn I loved the sex. I was pushing thirty by then, and had done it all: threesomes, orgies, other women, you name it. I fucked friends, strangers, and once, I fucked family. I was grateful my one-time affair with Marc was so easily forgiven because if I lost Gina or my family, my life would probably follow.
I did wonder if I ever would find someone for me. Would I ever have kids? Did I actually want either of those things? I’d find out a couple years after this night, but that’s another story.
Anyway, we all arrived to the restaurant together. That was Pop’s thing: the family arrives together, leaves together. Pop was a pain in the ass, what can I say. Good father though. Mom went out of her way to satisfy thost oddities of his. She enjoyed being a society woman, and that’s what his money did for her. She was forever grateful. Don’t get me wrong, she loved him immensely, but he was older than her, dumber than her, and they sometimes lived parallel lives. I think they liked it that way though. He built himself up from a small businessman to the most sought after maker of plumbing parts on the East Coast, supplying to everyone from your local hardware store to national big box stores. Mom was his prize, and he cared for her as well as he did his business, us, and his tomato garden.
“Oh my God!” exclaimed a high-pitched Tennesee accent from across the room as we entered. “It has got to be Vin’s family!”
We all stood in shock, eyes wide, skin pale. There she was: Vinny’s girl.
She was radiantly beautiful in the worst way. Long, almost platinum, blonde hair in a high ponytail erupted out of a perfectly-shaped head with huge, blue eyes and lashes that reached out ten feet. She had a little button nose and bee-stung lips painted pink to match her tight dress. Her long neck was propped over two basketball-sized pillows of flesh that jiggled madly, broadcasting their inconceivable realness. Her fit, narrow waist fed into firm, fit, round muscular hips, thighs, and ass cheeks all propped up in 8-inch heels.
As she bounced and jiggled her way towards us, Gina muttered, “I guess Barbie is making blow-up dolls now.” Mom shushed her, while Marc, Pop, and I tittered. Mom was not amused one bit.
“Mommy,” Izzy whispered. “She has really big boobies.”
“Don’t stare directly at them, you’ll go blind,” I said. Marc had to fight so hard to hold in his laughter it sounded like he was sneezing internally.
She was upon us.
Pop got a tight hug that stunned him for two full minutes, then she turned to Mom who grabbed her shoulders, holding her back. With a painted-on grin, she said, “Lisa. My goodness! Look at you. Just…just look at you.”
“Thanks, momma!” Lisa said. “Can I call ya momma?”
“Ehhhhh. Heh heeeeeeeh,” she replied. She was saved by her grandson.
“You so bootiful,” Ludo said, completely fascinated.
“And you are cuter’n a Junebug, ain’tcha?”
“I don’t know,” Ludo shrugged.
“I’m Izzy!” his sister exclaimed, hugging Lisa.
“Oh my gosh, and ain’t you pretty as a peach!”
She grabbed them both and hugged them tightly to her bosom. I was honestly afraid they might asphyxiate.
“I’m Gina,” my sister said, “Their mother.”
“Oh, hey Gina,” Lisa grinned, jumping back to her feet for another tight hug. “Wow, you are movie star-beautiful, and I’ve met some of those people, so I know. Vinny’s told me so much about you.”
“Has he,” Gina replied, wondering what her brother would have to say about her.
Lisa ran her long fingernails through her hair just over her right ear, and with shining eyes, a slightly sultrier voice, and a naughty smile, she said, “That şişli escort must make this handsome bear of a man Marco.”
He raised his hand for a shake but she slapped it aside chuckling “Oh, pshaw,” and hugged him tightly, mashing her dual airbags into him.
Gina did not like that. I squeezed my sister’s hand to make sure she didn’t seize Lisa by the throat.
Marc? Yeah, he was Marc. With a bright red face, he stuttered, “Oh, wow hiya! It’s just Marc actually, only uh… you know, only Pop and Vinny call me Marco, b-b-but since you’re marrying him, I guess you can call me Marco too, but, but it’s really Marc just so you know. Either way is fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Thanks! How are you?”
Always the smoothie, Marc.
He lightly put his hand on her back to not reject the hug, but did not give her one of those big Marc bear hugs. He looked at Gina, scared for his life, but he would be fine. It was Lisa who should have been worried.
She turned to face me. It was weird. She was just as affable with me, but there was something else in her eyes, some kind of admiration. I realized my reputation probably preceded me, and she was already wondering how much trouble I’d be. I think she was hoping I’d be a lot.
“We’re gonna be gooood friends you and me, Stefania,” she said with a wink. No hug though. That seemed odd as I’m the huggiest Bertolli of all. I may have even raised my arms for a hug then dropped them embarrassingly. Honestly, I was disappointed. I wanted to squeeze her and see if that massive sweater meat of hers was real. Was any of her real? I honestly felt like she was hiding something.
Vinny finally emerged from the cigar bar downstairs and gave us all huge hugs, especially his niece and nephew that I knew he loved as much as I did. He may have slipped them both five bucks.
He hugged Mom and Pop, Gina, and a big back-slapping hug for Marc (they were good friends). As Lisa led them to the table, finally, a hug for me.
“Say it,” he said.
“What?” I said.
“About Lisa. Say it. Get it out now.”
I just stared at him and my face slowly melted into guffaws of laughter.
He nodded, looking somewhat deflated. “Thanks, I knew you’d approve.”
“Don’t pick on me,” I said. “I probably like her better than anyone else in the family. It’s just… Jesus, Vinny, she looks like Jessica Rabbit’s sexier cousin! How well do you know her? I guarantee you Mom is thinking gold digger and Gina is thinking sex toy.”
“I know what they’re thinking,” he said. With surprising sincerity, he continued, “But what do you think?”
Vinny and I loved each other and had good times together growing up, but we weren’t terribly close. He went off to become a financial powerhouse travelling the world while I stood in chorus lines hoping I’d get the part. (God, I hope I get it. I hope I get it. How many people does he need? Sorry, theater moment.)
Gina spent the rest of the night practically on top of Marc. She sat so close to him that she was practically on his lap, and held his hand or put an arm around his waist whenever they were standing. It was cute though. She was on high alert, guarding her treasure, and he was just happy to be so close to his austere wife. He kept stealing little kisses from her cheeks and neck when she’d move close and she’d whisper, “Stop it.” She went so far as to ask Mom to watch the kids so she wouldn’t have to leave his side. You didn’t have to tell that doting Nonna twice! Besides, she knew what Gina was doing, and if I knew her, she thought it was a good idea. I have to admit that I also didn’t like her flirting with Gina’s Marc. Maybe it was guilt, but I didn’t like the idea of anyone getting between them.
The food was great! I ate half of my food, which for an actress is a statement. Marc housed his plate and started helping himself the Ludo’s leftover pasta when Gina stabbed his hand with her fork. He put his down.
“Oh, I just love a man with an appetite, don’t you?” Lisa said to Gina while staring at Marc and adding a wink that made him clam up. What is she doing? I wondered. It was like she was testing them, or Gina at least.
Over dessert, she asked Gina and I to be her bridesmaids. I answered with a quick yes. Gina stuttered, trying to find a way out of it when Mom put her hand on Gina’s and smiled. “Of course she will, and you have a flower girl and ring-bearer ready too.”
Izzy’s face lit up like it was Christmas.
3
“Stephania Bertolli?”
“The one and only.”
“And Gina Arcieri?”
“Hello.”
“Good afternoon, ladies. Ms. Bloom and the rest of your party are waiting for you in the bachelorette suite.”
The woman at the front desk handed us key cards and we headed to the elevators.
It was my second time in Vegas, but my first time in a fancy place right on the strip. There’s something magical about a casino. It’s like a circus for adults, but you’re part of the show. You’re either a clown, a trained animal, or a daredevil. The clowns…well, you know. Plenty of clowns in this town. The trained animals are at the slots and family shows, and the daredevils are bitches like me, ready to let it ride; and by that, I mean on some dick.