Chapter 4

The sexually repressed Angelica was alone in bed that mid-week morning.

The maid Maria had left her arms with a soul-searching kiss and a promise to use her tongue later that night in a way that she had never experienced before. The excitement of that possibility caused her ride the soft pillow the maid had decorated with her lipstick and her drool from her panting mouth. She had ridden a pillow at home and allowed her sister to prod and poke her tight teenaged bottom from above like a lover driving her into a frenzy of heated action. Now, she was on he own but the friction from the packed feathers and the scent of Maria’s pussy rubbing into her face from the towel they had used to wipe her clean before she left made her squirt like street whore into the nice clean linen.

Her favorite uncle, Don Luigi, was fooling around with her injured twin sister Lucrecia with her silly leg all pumped up and sticking up in the air like a wounded duck. It truly disgusted her to think of them doing the nasty act in that sort of ridiculous situation. Her imagination rejected the thought of the pair of them contorting their bodies to adapt to the crazy need to copulate like obsessed animals in the middle of the night. Besides, she wanted to feel Don Luigi’s touch on her own skin with his gentle way of bringing her submissive side along for the ride.

Angelica stole out of the villa and walked filled with a sense of self-pity along the stone wall of the sea barrier carefully avoiding any broken glass or fisherman’s hooks. She wanted to dig her toes in the sand. The inviting beach shone brightly reflecting the romantic full moon hanging low above her head. She kept looking over her shoulder and in all the dark corners at the edge of the sand.

Her uncle had told them that some of the females in the town had complained of some perverted men wandering the streets at night looking for lone women walking the streets for what one might surmise was an opportunity to locate a paying customer for their easy virtue.

She found the story strangely exciting and her imagination ran rampant with scenes of her forced cooperation with one or more dark-skinned transients frantic to bend her over for quickie sex without her permission. Just the thought of being forced to perform like a slut was enough to make her inner legs wet and she knew her short attempt to avoid the sin of fornication was a complete bust. The priest would be saddened at her failure and she knew he would demand strict penance for her shortfalls. She felt sorry for the poor priest doomed to spend his life without carnal knowledge of the female gender and obediently allowed him to chase away her devils with his needy cock to atone for her sinful thoughts. It was a mutually beneficial interaction and they both seemed to be the better for it.

The shadows of the after-midnight nocturnal setting shifted constantly all around her.

The sound and headlamps of an approaching motorcar froze her against the seawall and she felt her heart beat a lot faster as the bright lights outlined her in her transparent night shirt against their solid bulk.

“Come over here, little sparrow, do you have any identification?”

She was relieved to see the blue light of the police car and knew the man was a policeman despite not wearing a uniform.

Angelica regretted the fact he was not in uniform because she simply adored a man in uniform. She had consorted with a pair of uniformed policemen just the previous month because her twin sister was down with a bad cold and she had to carry on for both of them. The aggressive men really put her through her paces in several different positions and had even showed her some new tricks that she had never seen before. They probably had learned them from the whores that they rounded up every night just to keep the evil-minded village wives happy at their discomfort.

The street women were not really what one could consider “organized” because there were far too many of them. Even the mafia stayed above the game because of the competition from the East and the far more profitable ventures into smuggling illicit drugs. In the old days, the criminal element avoided the dirty business of drug dealing, but these days, it was the king of crimes and it greased the wheels of the economy at all levels. Fortunately, the truly depths of the drug trade was centered in the metropolitan areas and was still removed from the innocent of the farming countryside. The youth in the cities were stained with the criminal need to sustain their habits and no sin was too terrible to commit in the name of finding a “fix”.

She put her hands up in the air because she felt like she was at the mercy of this unknown male policeman and regretted the fact she had not worn either a bra or panties under her shift. In the bright shining lights of the police van, she felt certain her body was on naked display and easily seen through the transparent night shift.

“Turn around and walk backwards to me, young lady. I have to search you to make certain you are not concealing any weapons or illegal drugs. Have you been taking any prohibited drugs or smoking any illegal substances?”