Why don't you get a taste?
Golden girl Alison Rivers has it all: brains, looks, money, a father who adores her, and any man she wants... Or so she thought.
When she sets her eyes on Lorenzo Visconti, her academy's Italian, irresistible principal, sh...
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I was exhausted. I had been hopping from meeting to meeting for almost the entire day, trying to organize the students' finals, the graduation ceremony, etc. The only highlight had been Alison, who had also offered to lend a helping hand, saying that, as a student, she could 'give some valuable insight' and also reduce the amount of work I had to do.
After drinking my usual glass of Cotswolds at my favorite bar, I found myself in my car, driving home. The roads weren't that busy, so I allowed myself to move some of my focus to a particular thought, one that frequently kept me up at night: Alison.
It had been about two weeks and a half ever since we had put an end to our sexual relationship, yet our... Friendship was becoming deeper and more serious with each passing day. It had gotten to the point where something would happen to me and I would impatiently wait to see her again just to tell her. I very much looked forward to spending time with her, especially considering how happy she looked to just talk to me. She made me feel special.
But it meant nothing, I still loved my wife.
I unlocked the front door and walked inside, ready to welcome the weekend with a book in hand and maybe a charcuterie board on the side. I could already savor the delicate taste of the Brie on my tastebuds when I faintly heard more than two voices coming from somewhere downstairs.
And that third voice was unmistakable, for it sounded like a siren's song, a melodious hum that lured you in and stripped you of your resistance. It belonged to her, to Alison. "We've already set the table, so you're free to come with the food!" She said enthusiastically, most likely addressing my wife.
I first directed myself towards the washroom to wash my hands, before cautiously stepping into the dining room. I wasn't worried about Ali, after all, I knew that she wouldn't open her mouth and expose us, for she didn't want to risk not seeing me anymore. However, the thought of Olivia and Alison in the same room still managed to fill me with nervousness.
The young beauty was the first one to lock eyes with me. She smiled brightly and then blew me a kiss. Only a blue summery dress covered her body, showcasing a decent amount of cleavage to be considered both sexy yet proper. "Oh, good evening, Mr. Visconti!" She exclaimed, bringing everyone's attention to me.
My wife, who was busy arranging the spaghetti alla carbonara in each plate, looked up and saw me standing in the doorway. "Hi, babe."
"Hey, dad." Voiced Richard.
I greeted them back and took a seat at the head of the table, hearing my stomach grumble at the sight in front of me. The amazing smell of the main course wafted around and into my nose, already bringing me a bit of pleasure.
Olivia leaned in to press a kiss on my lips— as she always did, yet this time I didn't turn my head and I just let it land on my cheek, hoping that she wouldn't make a big deal out of it. She wasn't that type.
