We murmur our thanks, and he puts the car into motion. It’s only then I hear my phone ping and eagerly retrieve it from my bag. My heart races as I read the text.
Hey Wildcat. Been thinking about u nonfuckingstop. My dick’s going wild & I’m feeling cocky. So consider yourself warned. Buy something dead sexy for tonight. C u later. x
Britney sees the wide smile on my face and turns to me with an inquiring look. ‘Someone’s made you happy,’ she says.
‘Yeah,’ I say.
Barely able to contain my happiness, I lie back and watch the sun-drenched countryside pass us by. An hour later we turn into the fabulous pillars that straddle the entrance of the Hotel Principe di Savoia.
‘Wow, it’s breathtaking,’ I gush.
‘I know and I can’t wait to see our rooms.’
The driver drops us off at the main entrance and we go inside the massive foyer with its fabulous centerpiece waterfall. At the reception desk we are welcomed by a sultry Italian brunette and told that we have a suite on the top floor. She also passes a white envelope with both Britney’s and my name on it.
‘OMG! It’ll be so much fun, we have our own suite together,’ Britney squeals as I open the envelope.
‘What’s in the envelope?’ she asks.
‘Our stage passes and … a letter,’ I reply.
‘What does it say?’ she asks peering over my shoulder and reading the letter.
‘For a few seconds there is silence as we read the letter, then Britney is doing a happy dance right there in the posh foyer that positively smells of big money.
‘Ha, ha, ha, I can’t believe it. Cash asked Mrs. Knowles to open accounts for us in Fendi, Prada, Moschino, Gucci and Versace. We can buy whatever we want to,’ she sings.
‘Mrs. Knowles is really efficient,’ I say in a hushed voice. I’ve never been so spoilt in all my life.
‘Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant we’re all organized,’ Britney says as a bellboy approaches us and takes us to the top floor. Our suite is a to-die-for mixture of classical elegance and modern contemporary. Britney claims the bedroom overlooking the street and I take the one overlooking the garden and pool. The bathrooms are stunning with pink marble and Jacuzzi whirlpool baths. I throw myself on the bed and think of Cash. I can’t wait to see him later.
‘What do you want to do now, Brit?’ I shout across the room. ‘We have six hours before we need to leave for the stadium.’
‘Shopping obviously,’ she says appearing at my doorway. ‘What else is there to do in Milan? We’ll hit the shops on Mrs. Knowles’ list.’
I call the driver and we find ourselves in the Quadrilatero d'Oro (Rectangle of Gold). We visit so many shops that I lose count. For the most part I stare in awe at the beauty, the design brilliance, and the incredible choice I see on display in Milan. Bright colors, classic lines.
Britney buys a striped trouser outfit at Fendi and a really cute dress at Moschino. She also finds a luscious snakeskin bag at Gucci and a pair of boots at Prada. I find the perfect buy in Versace. A leopard print, tight, velvet mini-dress with a high collar. The sales assistant, a gay man with very beautiful eyes, then suggests a pair of shoes that I would never have thought of wearing with my print dress. A black Medusa tri-strap platform. I put them on and stand.
‘Very sexy,’ he says in his thick Italian accent.
‘They’re perfect. Get them,’ Britney says very firmly.
I walk up and down the shop. He wants wild cat. He’s got wild cat. ‘OK,’ I say.
It is nearly two o’clock and we are very hungry so we stop for lunch at Caffè Baglioni across the street. Between us we polish off plates of eggs and truffle, steak tartare, smoked salmon, and wash it all down with a bottle of champagne.
We arrive back at the hotel quite merry, a teeny bit tipsy, and with about two hours to go before we leave for the stadium. Already the adrenaline is flowing in my blood. I can’t wait to see Cash. It’s as if we haven’t been parted for just a few hours, but weeks.
Britney is in her room with the music at dance level decibels and is busy trying on various outfits for later, so I decide to avail myself of the Jacuzzi. I lie back and close my eyes. As the lovely sensation of jets of water gently blast my body, an image of Cash the first time he cheekily came into my bathroom with his mouthwatering wares on display comes into my head.
I remember his manly smell, his tanned muscular torso, his large hands as they spread my legs, and instantly my body starts aching for his brand of pleasure. My hands move of their own accord and start squeezing my breasts and caressing my nipples, anticipating how it will feel to be taken and fucked hard by Cash again.