Violetta Good Bits Wall
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This book was originally titled Incest Shoe Us - but the publisher thought my focusing on shoes might be a bit too restrictive so they plunked for the Violetta title and put a Victoria Secret-like cover on it. Inside it's a very different matter - since both Violetta and I were going through major anguish at the time. Even so, there's some pretty hot sex betweenst the angst, like when Violetta travelling under the alias of Nicola Anderson - meets a dishy Italian boy - Johnny Gianni - on the plane to Rome where she hope to learn the secret of why her feet are cursed with shoesex power. She needs a good fuck to get her mind off the problems she faces, so the airplane bathroom seems the best location - and yes - Johnny wheres cool shoes and ends up becoming a pivotal character.


From Chapter Eighteen and Nineteen


"Fuck romance, Johnny. Let's just cut all this word dancing and have sex."

Johnny's eyebrows rocket up so fast they threaten to jump over the Moon. He's shocked. I'm relentless.

"What's the matter, Johnny? All talk and no action. Afraid to put your cock where your mouth is?"

"No, no, no, I was - "

"You have a condom, right."

"Of course."

"Then meet me in one of the bathrooms and bring your hard dick."

He makes to stand, placing his hands on the seat armrests, ready to launch himself out of the chair. I push him back into his seat.

"I'll go first. You come by in a minute or so."

"How will I know which bathroom?"

"I'll lock the door when I go in. I'll open it for you after counting 60 seconds. Be quick to dash in, but if the coast ain't clear then I'll just go back in and wait. You tap on the door when everything is cool."

"You think of everything."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you have brains instead of balls."

"Are you a spy?"

"I'm whatever you want me to be, Johnny. You just be a good fuck."

"I will. You will be impressed with my dicky, Nikki. I am already hard just thinking of sliding this into your tight, wet pussy. Perhaps you should bring something to stuff into your mouth so you don't frighten the passengers with your screaming."

He adjusts himself in his seat. He's right. There's a lovely bulge in those loose silk pants.

"Oh, don't worry, Johnny, if I feel the need to muffle a scream I know just what to stick in my mouth."

I stand and slide passed Johnny, careful to brush my ass across his body as I step over him. This toilet fucking will be much fun. I haven't had a dick since Tony, and thanks to the Cutrero Curse I don't have to worry about getting pregnant, although with a gigolo like Johnny he's still gonna wear a condom or he won't be invited into the pussy party. I don't know where he's been, but I know where he's going, and he'd better keep those cool cuban heels on all the while I fuck the ass off of him.

My legs are spread, my feet are bare and I'm fucking naked. I'm propped up between the plane wall and the toilet. Thank the gods of fuckdom that I'm in good shape since I'm supporting myself by my arms on the sides of the john. Johnny is between my legs, which are balanced on his shoulders. His trousers are down around his ankles. His purple velvet shirt is unbuttoned, displaying his hairless, tanned chest, BB nipples and flat stomach. His dick is hard, voluminous and condomed. He's going in and out of me in spectacular fashion, the locomotioning aided by his thrusts and my body lifts. We're a fucking machine, pumping with well-lubed efficiency. We don't speak, all the earlier verbal play unnecessary now that we communicate in the timeless body language of sex.

Oh, and he's still got his cuban heels on, so if I sneak a shoefuck later, I'll be able to see what Johnny's thinking about while I fuck him senseless seven miles high above the big, wet Atlantic Ocean. That's the method to my sexual madness. I haven't simply gone dick crazy. Johnny is going to help me in Rome. He doesn't know it yet, but he is.

Irrespective of my ulterior motive, this is some of the best hetero sex I've ever creamed on. Admittedly, the only other dick fucks I've experienced - not counting the hundreds of shoesex dicks I've bucked, fucked and sucked -were my virgin-buster fuck with Jimmy in the DNA alley in San Francisco, and Tony's half-brotherly lust in Oakland. Not the biggest dick-database, but combine it with my shoefucks and it's enough for me to know good from bad, and I moan without fear of contradiction that this Italian Johnny dude ain't bad.

Far from being uncomfortable and constrained by the confines of an airplane toilet, the fuck we enjoy is rich and expansive. Every little buffeting of the plane by whatever minor turbulence we encounter goes right through our bodies. Every shake and vibration thunders in my cunt. It's like the entire jumbo jet is super dildo-ing my pussy through Johnny's penis. The fucking plane even looks like a dick with that big bulbous head. Note: I'm enjoying myself so much I don't even make an oblique reference to the DK's Mister Perfection. No way, not me. I'm fun fucking in the airplane toilet. It's truly the best in-flight entertainment. Beats the shit out of movies and cocktails.

Johnny too is in sensory overload. Ever the narcissist I can tell he likes watching himself fuck me in the mirror. From my perspective he's getting an awesome peep show. He sees my tight naked body profiled for him, my cute face smiling, moaning, rolling from side-to-side. Every so often we make eye contact when he's not ogling my small tits, nipple hard and vibrating with every thrust. Tearing himself away from his 'mirror, mirror on the wall' posing he stares at my pancake-flat belly undulating snakelike as I ripple around his dick, alternating his view back to the mirror to look at my leg muscles taut around his neck.

I can hardly wait to get in his shoes and see what he's seeing, know what he's thinking so I can put the next phase of my conquering Johnny plan into action. He won't be able to hide any secrets from my prying feet. Yum, yum, just the thought that I'll soon be able to do me the way I'm doing him gets me juicier than an overripe kumquat. I don't really know if an overripe kumquat is that juicy, but the name just sounds like it should be mop and bucket-sex related, so what the fuck.

Johnny leans forward, kisses my hard nipples and this I major like. The gentle bouncing of the plane makes for mega-hot fumbles, where his nipple kisses slide away, sometimes pinching my tit with his teeth. Drippy making rough stuff. This kind of titty torture I can stand. To show I dig his attentions, I arch into Johnny, using my runner's legs and sit-up strengthened abs to curl forward, throwing my arms around his neck so I'm anchored to his body, held aloft by his erection and his teeth on my tit. His cock slides into me to fill my cunt, and now that my mouth's close to his, he lets go of my tit and our tongues fuck, lips locked as tight as our genitals.

Johnny picks up the pistoning pace as he approaches his climax. His balls bang against my ass with each rapid-fire thrust. I feel the solid slap of his sac all wet from my cuntjuices. It's a rude feeling. Makes me think of two in-heat animals fucking in mud. I can't resist looking in the mirror at the way his balls swing like the gong in a bell. Fucking good analogy that cause Johnny sure his ringing my bell. This is my kind of nasty sex, and it's obvious Johnny likes delivering the goods.

He grabs me tight around the waist during his final few thrusts before coming. What a fucking awesome sight - skinny tanned-boy Johnny and my skinny whitey girl flesh melded together by gravity in such a perfect way we could be a Mapplethorpe photograph.
My butt nestles in Johnny's crotch. My thighs climb his stomach, over his chest, where my knees bend just below his shoulders and crest above that Adonis physique, anchoring me by my locked ankles and clasped hands behind Johnny's neck. My body bends forward to accomplish this feat, and yup, there's no unsightly bulge in the tummy. Not even any folds. At twenty-two I still have my girlish figure, and fuck does it feel good on the abs and pussy to be fucked in this gymnastic way. My stomach muscles burn, my pussy throbs, and my body feels on fire. Johnny holds my waist, lifting me up and down his arching shaft, milking his come from his swinging balls. Every time we complete a pumping, my clit grinds on Johnny's pubic bone. At just the right moment in our fucking I release my grip around his neck and all my weight focuses on that tiny spot, rocketing many small orgasms from my pussy through every nerve in my body.

I defy anyone who fucks in this position, who knows the heroin-like rush of a threesome with Isaac Newton's wonderful sex toy - gravity, not the apple - to ever go back to the boring-ass missionary position or even doggy style. Okay, doing it this way requires some physical prowess, so it ain't for everyone, but if you want normal or relaxed sex, knock yourself out being mellow. Me, I want the kind of fucking only Olympic sexual athletes can attempt and enjoy, you know, like you know, err, 'I saw the dick so I fucked it' ath-a-letes.

Judges, hold up your cards.

Five-point-zero. Five-point-zero. Five-point-zero.

A perfect score.

Fuck yeah, I'm banking on Johnny thinking so. I wanna give him a fuck that makes him not want any other pussy for a while. I need a place to stay in Rome, at least until I find out the secrets inside Carlotta's boots, and Johnny could be my home away from home. Not speaking the lingo I don't feel too comfortable walking the streets looking for the wop equivalent of the Providence. Yeah, I could also not wait to get to Rome to try on Carlotta's boots and who knows, maybe I'd know where to stay, but I don't like the risk of slipping them on in the plane's toilets. Who knows what kind of evil shit I'd unleash. No way do I want to be responsible for the crash of TWA flight 69 from New York to Rome. No, I'll stick to fucking a pretty boy in the toilet, thank you very much. This is time off for bad behavior, and it very well could lead to a place to stay for a while.

I don't so much as come as comes - whatever the term is for a swarm of orgasms - I have 'em in stampedes. Every up and down cunt cycle brings multiple releases, each pussy melting building upon the last. I know I'm moaning, and I don't fucking care if the entire planeload of passengers hears. Neither does Johnny as he explodes deep inside my pussy and moans something that sounds like Jeeeesus sweet Jesus, and I actually feel the swell of the condom as his spunk expands the covering to match the contours of my convulsing cunt. What a fucking neat feeling. Whoever said safe sex was boring needs to experience Johnny's dressed-up dick up an orifice.

As our climaxes subside our legs melt. We kiss and tumble backwards, my ass landing with a sweaty bang on the toilet seat. Johnny collapses to his knees at my feet, but we keep kissing as best as we can, his black mop fringe cascading down his face, strands of it messing with our tongue action. I chew on his hair until he brushes it aside and plants kisses down my throat, tracing a path to the space on my chest that passes for cleavage. He bounces from tit to tit, adding a delicious dessert to the main course of coming and coming and coming.

Not content to call it a fuck, Johnny continues kissing lower until he reaches my tenderized twat. This is a real test of his overall coital capability. Of all the sexual arts, cunnilingus separates the men from the slobs. He's clearly eaten enough pussy in his short time to know just the right pressure in exactly the right spot, and thank the fuck he doesn't blow on it. He knows the value of eye contact, looking up at me while he's tracing my labia with his tongue, zeroing in on my clit, where he plants a kiss that ripples a nice closing orgasm to our fuck.

But wait, there's more.

He doesn't stop as I cream all over his face and my legs threaten to pop his head like that overripe kumquat which keeps squelching into my mind. He kisses little pecks and nibbles down my thigh, bending like a man with only one bone in his body to tongue the back of my knee. Oh fuck, the orgasms keep dripping as he licks down my calf and oh man, he's going for my feet.

He starts his shrimping by nibbling my heel. The nibbles turns to bites and he's fuck near making a meal of my foot when he stops with the chewing and licks my sole. Oh fuck me pink, this is too much of a good thing. Thanks to my power my feet are my most sensitive sex organs, and it's as if Johnny knows this, because he sucks each toe and when he plunges them all in his mouth and runs his tongue in between them and bites down with his teeth I go into orgasmic seizure. My body arches and locks into position as if I'm turned to stone. My inactivity doesn't last long. Oh shit, I'm going to scream the fucking plane down or die. I'd give my left tit for a dick to suck, to stifle my impending shriek, but Johnny's too busy sucking on my foot, and there ain't another cock in reach so I stuff my fist in my mouth and draw blood as my body convulses.

Johnny doesn't stop despite my thrashing body. He suckles the other foot, and I'm on my way to fuck heaven. My body melts into a giant sloppy pool of girljuice as I come in tidal waves that shoot up from my feet and wash out my cunt, violent tremors ripping through my body with every blinding crescendo.
As I slow my shakings and my vision clears I see Johnny looking up at me from between my thighs. Sure looks like he belongs there, smiling the look of a satisfied man as he speaks the first intelligible words to have passed between us since we began our toilet tryst.

"That is just a taste of what I'll give you in Roma."

I high-five Johnny and yell "she shoots she scores."


Read the rest of Violettta ... follow Violetta and Johnny through their Roman adventure and see how our Avenging Angel Sex Goddess discovers the key to her power through a sexual pagan ritual dating back to Ancient Rome.

If you like this Violetta Good Bit then buy the whole Violetta book full of even more Good Bits from ...

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