Sexting My Mr. X

A New Life In Italy

Chapter Two

Iris

I hurried down the stairs, my heart still pounding—not from the thought of the journey ahead but from the lingering heat of that last exchange with Mr. X. I wished we could continue, but I had a flight to catch.

The summer air outside was warm, thick with the smell of sun-baked pavement. The driver stood leaning against the side of the sleek black car, glancing at his phone.

"Miss?" He straightened when he saw me.

I nodded, lifting my suitcase as he quickly took it from me and deposited in the car booth. “Thank you.” I murmured.

I turned back to the house, and in those few moments, it felt like I relived every year spent within its walls. I remembered watching my parents’ marriage crumble, shattering the perfect family I once sketched in my elementary art class. I saw my mom spiral from depression to coming home reeking of alcohol, often accompanied by men far older than her.

Sometimes I’d hear it, other times I’d accidentally see it—her tangled in moments I was too young to understand but couldn’t unsee. Believe me, I never planned to witness my mother being with different men, but it happened.

And now she was gone. I had always pretended she wasn’t there when she was alive, but her absence felt like a piece of my life had been ripped away, leaving an empty, aching void.

I missed her. I never thought I would.

Now, I had to go away from this home and every memories attached to it, and I do hope I’d find happiness wherever it is I was heading to.

“Shall we?” The driver asked.

I took in a deep breath and nodded at him. “Let’s go.”

As I slid into the backseat, I couldn’t help but glance at my phone again, half-expecting Mr. X to send another teasing message and get me right in the mood just with his perfect words. My heart gave a flutter as I unlocked the screen. But there was nothing. Silence. It felt odd, like something was left unfinished. And it made me doubt if it was really the best to go away from here. It felt like I’d lose Mr. X if I leave again.

The car pulled away from the curb, and I stared out the window, watching the familiar streets blur past. Leaving felt strange. Really strange. The biggest part of my life was being left behind.

I knew too much for my age, but not because I’d ever experienced it myself. I was still untouched, barely experienced in the physical aspect.

My mom had been so overprotective, making sure I never stayed out late or got too close to boys. She kept me locked in a bubble, even as her life spiraled in ways she couldn’t control. I had watched, learned... and yearned. And that’s why Mr. X existed, wasn’t it? A secret outlet for all the things I was never allowed to explore.

I leaned my head against the window, letting the vibrations of the car hum through me. My stomach twisted with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. I was leaving behind everyone and everything I knew, flying halfway across the world to a country that wasn’t mine, to a father who had practically become a stranger.

Italy.

The land of art, history, and love. It was supposed to be beautiful. I wondered what kind of life awaited me there. Would my father’s new wife accept me? Would I be an outsider, forced to play the role of the dutiful daughter in a home that wasn’t mine?

And then there was my stepbrother.

I hadn’t met him yet, only heard about him in the past. He was my age, apparently quiet and reserved, but I wasn’t sure what that meant. And then there was his sister, a teenager, just a couple of years younger than us. It all sounded so perfect—on paper. A neat little family. But life was never that neat, was it?

I glanced at my phone again, half-smiling to myself. Maybe I’d need Mr. X more than ever now. Something to hold onto while I navigated this new world, maybe Mr. X would be the part of me that’d come along with me on this new journey.

The airport came into view, and the driver pulled up to the curb. "Here we are, Miss."

I thanked him again, feeling the weight of my suitcase as I stepped out of the car. The bustling energy of the terminal hit me like a wave, people rushing in all directions, lost in their own worlds. I took a deep breath, pulling my suitcase behind me as I headed inside.

A few hours later, I was on the plane, watching the clouds blur beneath me as we soared through the sky. My mind drifted, wondering what the next few days would be like. Meeting my father again after so many years, meeting my stepfamily—people who knew nothing about me, about the secrets I carried, or the ways I wanted to live my life.

I couldn’t help but wonder if this would be another bondage, if I wouldn’t be allowed to live just like my mom had nearly suffocated life out of me.

I closed my eyes, letting the beautiful parts of the memories pull me into a light sleep. My thoughts swirled, mixing with memories of Mr. X and the unknown future waiting for me.

We landed at Airport, and as I stepped off the plane, the grand terminal came into view. The architecture was sleek and modern, with towering glass walls reflecting the sunlight, while the polished floors gleamed under the artificial lights. The space buzzed with travelers, some eager, others weary from long flights, their voices blending with the occasional announcement over the speakers. The scent of fresh espresso filled the air, reminding me that I had truly arrived in Italy.

My phone buzzed almost immediately. I glanced at the screen: Mr. Brown.

That was dad.

“Hey,” I answered, trying to keep my voice steady and as calm as it could appear.

This was the second time he was calling me in the last fifteen years, the first being the day my mom died to send his condolences. Every other discussion had been done through text, and he never saw the need to his only daughter during the traveling procedures.

Oh! I was no longer his only daughter, there was my step-sister.

“I’m at the park, waiting for you. Follow the signs, and you’ll find me.” His voice sounded so casual, as if fifteen years hadn’t passed since we last saw each other, as though he could recognize me if he sees me.

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me, and followed the directions to the meeting point. As I approached, I spotted him instantly—holding a board with my name on it, like some cliché airport pickup. The sight of him stirred no emotion in me, not like I expected that. It had been too long. Honestly, I didn’t miss him, and I wasn’t exactly thrilled to see him again.

When I reached him, he pulled me into a hug, stiff and awkward. I stood there, arms dangling, uncomfortable with the sudden display of affection. This was the man who left me when I was just five, who never looked back, never cared how I coped with the divorce. He never wondered if I missed him during those long, lonely nights when I cried myself to sleep because I needed my dad.

“Must’ve been hard losing Sara,” he said, holding my hands and giving me a look that I guess was supposed to be empathetic.

I just nodded. In truth, losing Mom wasn’t that different from losing him. She had been overprotective, sure, but in her own twisted way, she shielded me while indulging in her wild life. I was practically gagged from experiencing anything normal for my age, kept locked in my room while she went out with her latest lover. And when they came home… well, I didn’t need to hear the details, but I did, night after night.

Dad gestured toward the car. “Come on. Let’s get going.”

I followed him to the parking lot, my suitcase rolling quietly behind me. As we neared the car, I spotted them—his new family, or perhaps my new family. A woman and a teenage girl stood by the car. I didn’t need introductions to guess who they were.

My stepmother. My stepsister.

My gaze flicked between them, searching for the third piece of this unfamiliar puzzle—my supposed stepbrother.

We were still a few steps away when the girl rushed toward me, throwing her arms around me like I was an old friend she hadn’t seen in years. “You’re as beautiful as they said,” she gushed, her face lighting up with a wide smile.

I stood there stiffly, my arms at my sides, staring blankly at her.

“Iris, this is your sister,” Dad said, his smile warm as he tapped my shoulder. “Hailey. She’s been so excited to meet you.”

“Sixteen in a few days!” he added proudly. “She insisted we bring you here before her birthday. She couldn’t wait to celebrate with her big sister.”

“I have so many plans already!” Hailey interjected, grabbing my hands as she bounced with excitement. “I heard people in New York throw the best parties, and I know you’re going to help me make mine amazing. I can’t wait!”

Her enthusiasm didn’t touch me. I felt… nothing. No warmth, no connection. Just emptiness. Maybe a little jealousy. Birthdays? That concept didn’t exist in my world. My mom ignored every single one of mine, even when I begged.

My 20th birthday came closest to being celebrated, but it ended with me locked in my room, the sound of her shouting drowning out my protests. I smiled when I thought of Livia, the way she’d covered her bedroom walls with sticky notes, crafting a detailed plan to help me sneak out. “Iris,” she’d said, shaking her head, “you’ve got the worst mother. She’s using you as her emotional punching bag because she’s still broken over the divorce.” And she was right. That’s why I stayed. I couldn’t leave her alone with her demons, no matter how badly she hurt me.

“Yes! She smiled!” Hailey’s squeal jolted me back to the present. She looped her arm through mine, pulling me closer to the car. My attention shifted to the woman waiting beside it—my stepmother.

Her stare was cold, almost icy, her lips pressed into a thin line as her eyes raked over me from head to toe. I cleared my throat, unsure how to bridge the tension. “Good day, Mrs. Brown,” I said softly.

She didn’t reply. She didn’t even blink. Her eyes narrowed slightly before she turned and got into the car without a word.

Dad placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, whispering, “She’ll come around.”

Hailey, ever the optimist, flashed me another bright smile. I nodded, dropping my suitcase into the open trunk, bracing myself for whatever lay ahead.

We got into the car, Hailey eagerly dragging me into the backseat beside her while my dad and my stepmother took the front. The drive was a mix of awkward silence and Hailey’s incessant chatter about everything under the sun. I answered when I could, though mostly with nods and polite hums, my mind still processing everything.

When we pulled into the driveway of a sprawling villa, I couldn’t hide my reaction—a mix of surprise and intimidation. The house was massive, easily big enough to fit our old home in New York multiple times over.

Dad turned in his seat as the car came to a stop. “We’ll need to pick up some groceries to prepare a proper dinner to welcome you home,” he said with a smile.

I nodded. “That sounds fine.”

“Oh, take your time,” Hailey chirped, already stepping out of the car. “I’ll show Iris around the house—and maybe even some of Italy if we have the time!”

Her voice was bright and clear, with no hint of an Italian accent. I’d been trying to catch even a sliver of it, but her English was perfectly fluent. Wondered how.

Hailey grabbed my bags before I could protest, waving me toward the house with an excited grin. “Come on! You’re going to love it!”

I followed her inside, still marveling at the sheer size and elegance of the place. The marble floors gleamed, chandeliers sparkled above, and every corner seemed to exude luxury. I paused in the entryway, taking it all in, until Hailey’s light tap on my arm snapped me out of my daze.

“This way!” she said, guiding me down a long corridor before stopping at a door. She pushed it open to reveal a spacious room with a plush bed, large windows, and tasteful decor.

“This is yours, I set it up. Go freshen up and meet me outside—I’ll show you more once you’re done.”

“Thanks,” I said, stepping inside. But before she could leave, I hesitated. “Where’s is your brother? I haven’t seen him.”

“Dom?” Hailey smiled mischievously. “Oh, Dominic is out with his friends. You’ll meet him later. Now, hurry up! You’ll love the backyard!”

I nodded and closed the door behind me, setting my bag down near the bed. The room was beautiful, but I barely spared it a glance, eager to find the bathroom and wash off the long trip.

I opened the door leading to the ensuite bathroom, and the sight that greeted me stopped me dead in my tracks.

Under the running water of the shower stood a guy, around my age, completely naked. His wet hair clung to his forehead, droplets of water trailing down his chiseled chest and abs before continuing their path along the most enormous c**k I’d ever seen.

I swallowed the huge lump that suddenly appeared in my throat. My breath hitched. My feet were rooted to the spot, my mind blank, and my eyes utterly unwilling to shift from his… c**k, which swayed with every move he made.

He had a tattoo on his chest that sprawled from his right shoulder to his waist level.

The only sounds in the room were the steady spray of water and the frantic thudding of my heartbeat. He turned slightly, his hand reaching lazily for the soap, utterly unaware of my presence.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. Who was he? Could this be Dominic, my stepbrother? No… Hailey said he was out with his friends. So, who the hell was this? A stranger? A stalker?

The thought jolted me, a sharp gasp tearing from my lips before I could stop it.

The guy froze. Slowly, he turned to face me, his expression shifting from relaxed to shocked in seconds. His wide eyes locked on mine, and then realization seemed to crash over him.

“Holy s**t!” he yelled, scrambling for a towel hanging nearby. His hand flew to cover himself before he hastily wrapped the towel around his waist. “Who the hell are you?”