Backdoor Man

Backdoor man: Gabriela

"NO FUCKING WAY!" I thought as the machine played a very clear message from an unexpected but entirely welcome caller.

"Hi, Mark, it's Gabby, well Gabriela. We talked the other night at the game. Uhhhh, I was wondering, well, if you weren't doing anything tonight, uhhhmmm, maybe you wanted to hang out," the unsteady voice of Vinnie's beautiful olive skinned girlfriend questioned.

Then, as a means to save face or assuage her nervousness, she followed, "Ummmm, I mean, no big deal. The lacrosse team is away, my roommates are in the city, and well, I was chilling. You seemed like a pretty cool guy, and, well, I still feel bad about how Vinnie acted, so look at it as a peace offering. Maybe, you wanted to have a couple drinks, eat some pizza, and watch a movie or something. If not, I understand. You are probably busy, but just wanted to reach out."

She quickly left her number and hung up.

I was intrigued and certainly curious. Gabby was a young woman with a distinct blend of elegance and confidence. She had a presence, marked not only by her beauty, but also intelligence that she neither flaunted nor hid. She carried herself with class and dignity, seeming to say and do the correct thing at all times, no matter the situation.

I called back and we chatted briefly. It was quite evident that she had composed herself. She, matter of factly, informed me that she was watching some movies, eating pizza and having wine. I should bring beer if I wanted some.

I arrived at 6:30, twelve-pack in hand, a slew of questions rushing through my head. Gabby answered the door with a gentle smile, a firm hug, and the ever present Italian kiss on the cheek. Pulling back after our embrace, she took the twelve-pack, placing it in the refrigerator. She had already removed one, opening it and handing it to me. It was a simple gesture of providing for me, but one that I would come to look forward to.

Walking to the phone, she asked, "Is there anything you want on your pizza, well, besides sausage? I'm calling Geno's."

"Nah, that's fine," I stated, a bit taken aback by the simple beauty of this woman in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Gabby's casual dress enhanced her natural beauty even more. She wore very little makeup, one of many differences she had with the other Italian girls at school. Her natural olive skin with her high cheek bones, thick but shaped eye brows, and full lips certainly highlighted her ancestors of Southern Italy.

Her naturally curly dark brown hair framed her expressive face perfectly and it wasn't blown out like many of the young women of the day. It was natural.

If that was not enough, her modest breasts revealed that she did not have a bra under her t-shirt. Lastly, her nicely shaped ass looked just as good in her sweatpants as they would have in a sexy summer dress. She was simply a naturally beautiful woman possessing many qualities of a runway model molded into a focused, determined, and proper lady.

Curiously, her eyes stayed on me as she dialed and ordered. Informing me that the pie would arrive in a half hour, she then held her glass of red wine up, toasting me with a simple, "Cheers."

She had three movies: Sixteen Candles, The Killing Fields, and Dead Zone. Impressed, I grabbed the Molly Ringwald flick and put it in.

"Figures," she stated, matter of factly, a slight air of disappointment.

"Well, I thought we could start with the fluff. You know, ease into the more serious stuff as the night progressed," my shit eating grin certainly broadcasting the innuendo.

"Plus, seriously, the pizza will be here soon and I assume this movie would be the one where we could miss some parts."

Her wary look was supplanted by brightening eyes. My satisfactory comment relaxed her quite a bit. Later, she would share that my simple response was a welcome change from the macho rhetoric that she endured on a daily basis, not only at school, but back in her neighborhood and at home.

The pizza arrived. Sitting on the couch, we ate and drank as the John Hughes film played on, more so as background noise. We genuinely enjoyed each other's company, learning more about her and certainly sharing more about myself with her than I usually did with someone I was encountering for just the second time.

Gabriela was part stereotype, part someone distinctly different. She was a good, confirmed Catholic girl, the little sister to three older Italian brothers who were extremely protective of her reputation.

She went to the same Catholic school as Vincent Giordano, the neighborhood boy who had been a friend since kindergarten. He was the stud athlete; she was the hot cheerleader. The Italian families were very close. He was well behaved around her, deferring to her wishes, always respectful and doting.

But the unspoken idea that "boys will be boys" or "men have certain needs, even husbands" were ideas that she did not wholeheartedly support. Regardless, the proper Italian woman had been conditioned from a very young age to defer to men and their needs, even being taught to look the other way at times if a man strayed to fulfil his more lascivious desires.

Now, she had an opportunity to explore her needs. I appeared safe and she surmised that she could proceed unencumbered by the patriarchal traditions of her upbringing, family, and social circles.

__________

GABBY'S THOUGHTS:

I was really nervous. That's not who I am. So, I called him. I just wanted to know more about this guy. He was different than the other college guys and he was only a freshman. I couldn't put my finger on it, but he just carried himself differently, as if he was a bit more mature beyond his years.

Even when Vinnie was acting like a douche to him, he didn't puff up his chest, talk shit, or fight. He sat back and let things play out, which led to nothing. Once Vin couldn't elicit a response, his zeal for fucking with Mark dissipated and he went away to play quarters, but I could see a smug expression of pleasure on Mark's face. It was totally different than what I was used to. My brothers, friends, or any other guys I knew in the neighborhood would have at least challenged Vinnie in some manner, but Mark chose to just let Vin's obnoxiousness fizzle out.

More importantly, Mark's concern was whether the little slut sitting on his lap was emotionally okay. He was not preoccupied with his own ego nor did he become overzealous with machismo.

I know why Vinnie made a deal out of his woody. He was jealous, as I know that little blond slut had sucked Vinnie's dick, if not having also spread her nasty legs for him. And, I guess since Mark is pretty reserved and hard to read, that definitely irks Vin a lot as well. Mark was not only working on Vin's side piece, but he was non-apologetic, which must have pissed Vinnie off to no end. As for me, it was so fucking satisfying to watch my boyfriend get shut down for once, as it was rare. I appreciated it.

Mark just gave off a different vibe. That was his allure. So, I called him, not really knowing what to expect, but knowing I wanted to know more about him. To what level? Not sure, but hey, fuck it, I had to call. He was unlike any of the stereotypical Jersey guys I knew. So, certainly his uniqueness made him attractive, and, well, I can't lie. His "woody" was pretty significant. It had me curious.

I have only been with one person. Vince was my childhood friend, high school sweetheart, and we were still dating in college. His mother and mine had already picked out the reception hall, discussed names for grandchildren, and certainly expected to have the Giordanos and Lombardis become family. But, I was not going to be like all of them, not entirely. They were good women, supportive, loving, and decisive, but they also accepted the indiscretions of their men without question, choosing to ignore the dalliances of their husbands in favor of God and family, forsaking their needs as women for others in the family.

Well, if it is good for the goose, then it is good for the gander. There was no way I would stand by my man, unless we were equals, not that he had to know that we were.

__________

With the pizza demolished, Gabby instinctively began to clear the coffee table as she had been conditioned to do since being a young girl. Her feeble protests were ignored as I helped her with the clutter on the coffee table. I was a man, and being so, she was supposed to wait on me. It was just how it was and how she was raised.

As we negotiated around each other in the small kitchen, Gabby's face became flushed. I knew Gabby's heart rate was increasing as she probably noted a small tingle deep down.

We managed well until she turned from the refrigerator with another beer at the same time I turned from the garbage can. My right arm caught her waist as we gently collided. Pressed closely together, my hand holding the small of her back firmly, she shuddered.

Taking full advantage of the opportunity, I leaned in, connecting my lips to her pillowy soft ones, kissing her fully, with purpose, fully enjoying the energy exchange as we continued to explore the other's mouth. Gently, I pulled her entire body to mine, pressing her into me as our tongues danced with each other.

It was evident that the feeling was unlike any other Gabriela had ever experienced. Was it because she was cheating on her long time boyfriend? Was it just the heat of the moment? Was it just the newness of someone different? She was not certain, but she knew that this was decidedly different, and it was merely a kiss. Pulling back, the stunningly beautiful dark haired beauty was a mix of trepidation, anticipation, and hunger.

"Uhhhh, well, that, that..."

"That was nice," I said, simply, directly, and accurately.

"Yes, but, uhhh, well, I don't, well, I don't..."

"You don't have to worry about me, Gabriela. I am not going to say anything. I do not expect anything. And, most of all, you don't have to do anything that you don't want to do. I am not that kind of guy."

She paused momentarily at my response, a bit off balance. Not sure how to react, she continued with her mild protest, not registering my very tempered response.

"Well, yeh, it is just that, well, you know, Vinnie. Uhhh, we have been together a long time."

"Yes, I know. And I know you guys plan to marry, and I know that he has fucked Heather, and probably other girls, and I know you are supposed to be the good, supportive, proper lady for him. Yes, I understand. I understand the hypocrisy of the patriarchal society. I have seen it before."

Again, she paused, slightly bewildered, as if she was trying to interpret my response for something greater.

"Well, uhhhhhh, yeh," she responded, floored by my insight into her thoughts and feelings. No man had ever shared such empathy. Her bewildered look remained as if she was asking, "was this fucking guy for real or just a figment of my imagination?"

"So, it begs the question then, Gabriela. Why am I here?"

I was pushing her a bit, but I felt it was the time to do so. She had been very receptive to my kiss, engaging fully as the electricity of our connection was quite clear. The energy between us was daunting to her and I knew it was much more than Vinnie was sparking.

"Uhhhh, well, uhhh, you know, I, I, uhhhhh, well, fuck! What do you want me to say, Mark?"

"Gabby, I am not asking you to say anything. I am not expecting you to say anything. But, I do know one thing. You are an extremely sexy woman, and not just looks. Yes, your body is perfect, tight, toned, excellent ass and tight abs. Your face is beautiful and you carry yourself with confidence. But, more so, you have an innate intelligence that is entirely your own. Although you have been brought up to be the 'good Catholic girl and dutiful wife,' you express your thoughts, ideas and values even if they counter the patriarchal norm. I find that extremely attractive."

As I talked, I moved closer, my hands cupping her perfect ass cheeks, gazing into her eyes, holding her firmly to convey my ideas were not just a line.

Our lips met, passionately exploring each other's mouth, I pushed her against the kitchen counter, pressing my already hardening cock into her stomach as I caressed her back, my hands moving around her toned body, massaging the sides of her taut breasts.

Gabby moaned into the kiss, her hands wrapping around my neck, encouraging the embrace, inviting more exploration. The flutter I felt inside, although not unfamiliar, had only been felt with one other person, Monica. Although Gabriela Lombardi was not as experienced or polished as Monica Jensen, she carried with her a similar grace, dignity, and command. Those qualities, I was beginning to learn were paramount in me connecting with a woman deeply.

"MMMMM, you are a great kisser," Gabby stated as she pulled away from me, her warm breath on my neck as she nuzzled into my chest, gathering herself, maintaining a semblance of restraint by not looking into my eyes.

"Thanks. It's easy when the person you are kissing is equally as talented," I stated matter of factly, noting her hug me a bit tighter, yet still avoiding eye contact.

I pulled back a bit, filled the empty wine glass on the counter, then grabbed my beer, her free hand and guided her back to her couch. We sat as the nice neat fairytale ended the Molly Ringwald movie. The good girl gets the great guy and all is happily ever after.

I was kind and I rewinded the tape, as it says on the corny stickers on each rental. I popped in "The Killing Fields", sitting down next to my hostess, casual and relaxed. I nonchalantly placed my hand on her left knee, patting it reassuringly, but then placing my arm behind her, not touching her as my arm was above her on the cushions, but opening my right side to her.

The graphic nature of the film was enthralling, but more importantly, Gabby slowly sunk into me more and more. At first, as the beautiful Cambodian countryside was depicted, she kept her distance, but then as more and more atrocities were depicted on the screen, she slid into my side, unconsciously seeking comfort. I dropped my arm around her, gently rubbing her right arm, as her head fell upon my chest, allowing me to smell the sweet lilac fragrance of her shampooed hair.

As the movie ended, the captivating Italian beauty tilted her head up toward me, kissed me on the lips, simply stating, "Thank you."

With that, she got up and went to the bathroom, leaving me to contemplate the situation. I filled her wine glass and grabbed another beer, finished it, then started another. After over two hours of violence and atrocity, I was due for a couple brewskies.

I called to Gabby, "You okay in there?", truly concerned with the amount of time she was taking.

"Uhhh, yeh, yeh, be right out. I am almost done," she replied in a forced reply that revealed her uncertainty.

When she came out, her forced smile was apparent, as well as a slightly reddened hue around her eyes. Her uncertain eyes spoke to her conflicted mind, not really looking at me, more like looking around as if she misplaced something.

I handed her the glass of wine and she took a big gulp.

"Listen, Gabriela, you don't have to..." My words ended abruptly as the beautiful brunette placed her hands on either side of my face, kissing me intensely, pushing her tongue deep inside, hungry for it, passionate, needy, wanting.

Pulling back, still holding my face, she was panting heavily. "Mark just shut up and come fuck me," she directed, standing, my hand in hers as she pulled me to the bedroom.

__________

GABBY'S THOUGHTS:

When I went into that bathroom, I stared in the mirror and composed myself. Mark was a nice guy. He was a lot of things that Vincent was not, but Vin was my boyfriend and I knew I just couldn't. I was a good girl and I was true to my word, so I was going to thank Mark for a good evening and then he would go home. That was the plan.

I actually had to pee, so once resolved, I sat down. And then, then I broke down. I don't know where it came from or even why. Well, hey let's not lie, I knew why. Vinnie had cheated on me many times. I mean a lot. But, I turned the other cheek. I didn't want to be a slut. I didn't want to disappoint my mom, my nonna, my family. I needed to avoid the temptation. Why did I even invite him here? What the fuck was I doing? The tears began to flow, and once they started, it was hard to stop them.

Mark must have thought I was getting sick or something, but he let me be for a bit. What the fuck was I doing, inviting him here? What did that make me? Was I being a whore, a jezebel, a slut? I cried out of shame. But, then another thought occurred to me. What if I was a guy? How would it look then, huh? I would be a stud, a player, a man's man. What the fuck is that bullshit? Why do I have to be the supportive, dutiful, puritanical woman when my man does what he wants?

Fuck that. I have a guy here who is hot, empathetic, and I am pretty sure has a big cock. Although Vinnie is hot, the other two qualities truly elude him. It would be nice to see how the other gender lives. So, fuck it, I am going to do a little living.

Trying to compose myself, I washed my hands and face, trying to hide my consternation. I hadn't worn any makeup because I didn't want to lead Mark on, not knowing what would happen tonight. So, I just dried my hands and face, dabbed a little perfume, Obsession, on the nape of my neck and headed back out finding Mark sitting, watching t.v., drinking a beer.

The concern on his face was evident as he began to talk. I think it was to assuage my concerns about what he expected. Well, talk time was over.

__________

Gabby pulled me into her room, me pushing the door closed with my heel. Turning to me, she pulled me into her, kissing me passionately. I pulled her ass cheeks to me, pushing my ever hardening cock into her stomach. I am only 5' 9" and Gabby is a bit short of 5' 5", but she was feeling my growing member through her thin tee-shirt as she rubbed back on me, enticing me to harden more.

Pulling back, I removed her t-shirt, exposing her already stiff nipples. Instinctively, she began to move her hands up to cover herself, still programmed with the modesty of a proper young lady. Taking her hands, I placed them at the bottom of my shirt and she automatically pulled up as I bent toward her, allowing her to free me of the garment.

Her bashful smile was supplanted by a growing need in her eyes. In her moment of limbo, I bent forward, taking her left breast in my mouth, enveloping most of it, as my pointed tongue probed her eraser hard nipple. Gabby shuddered as both her hands cupped the back of my head, gently pulling my head firmer to her.

I spent quite a while exploring her breasts, licking, sucking, nibbling, and biting here and there, careful not to leave a mark, but insistent enough with my sucking that her shuddering and writhing prompted her to fist my hair with both hands, pulling me back from her. The look of amazement on her face was breathtaking, as if no one had cared to explore her in such a manner. And, for my assessment of Vinnie, he probably did not have a large arsenal of moves when it came to foreplay.

I smiled broadly, watching the Italian beauty's chest heave in excitement as I kneeled down, pulling both her sweatpants and panties off together. She stepped out of both legs and while I was down there, I pulled her socks off as well.

Standing before me was one of the finest bodies I had ever seen. There was not an ounce of fat on her, but instead she had a nicely defined body from years of weight training, pilates, and running, aside from cheerleading. She was certainly a striking image, fully capable of being the poster child of Venus herself.

I kissed her deeply, as her naked body pressed against my half clothed one, her hands manipulating the button on my jeans, then working the zipper down. Before she could place her hands on the waistband, I secured each wrist in each of my hands.