Sex Supreme

Monica Bellucci, one of Italy’s most stunning women was talking, with Bella de Vecchi, curator, and the wife of Leo de Vecchi, owner of the De Vecchi’s Gallery. Bella was introducing her their art collection. While they were talking, a gorgeous man in dark Persol glasses strode out of the room. He was clad in sporty black wool stretch racing ensemble, leather loafers sans socks.

“Bella, I like the work of Giorgio Cattani’s and I picked out two. Also I’m taking the sculpture work of Kiki Smith. It’s fascinating, I love it.”

“Oh, dear boy. I’m glad you like them. You always choose the best. By the way, Guilo, my dear have you met Miss Monica Bellucci?

“Not until now in person.” He raised his glasses over his head and gazed into Monica.

“Miss Monica Bellucci this is Signor Guilo Langella.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Bellucci,” Guilo said breaking into his charming grin.

“You can call me Monica,” she said extending her hand.

“Monica it is,” Guilo said gently taking her hand and kissing it.

“Monica I’d like to get to know more about you. I am going to a dinner concert tonight and I wish I had a date. Andre Boticelli and Susan Brighton will be singing in this concert. I hope I’m lucky today to have you as my date if you are free tonight, 7:00 am, here’s my card. I have no one else in mind to date until I met you. Bella, I am inviting you and Leo too.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful I’m sure Leo would love it too. It’s our 35th anniversary today”

“Congratulations” said Guilo and he kissed her cheek.

“You also better come, Monica, make it a date tonight,” Bella said.

“Yes, I accept the invitation,” Monica said in a low key, modulated voice.

“Very well. Call me please where I can pick you up Monica and I’ll send a car for you Bella and Leo at 6:30 tonight. I must go, so I’ll see you all tonight,” Guilo curtly said and headed towards the big door.

Bella led Monica’s hand and they moved towards the window. They saw him walked toward his gleaming black Porsche Boxster.

“You can’t say no to Guilo, he’s a lovable guy, if I were younger I’ll jump to bed with him,” she laughed. “He’s a fine young and wealthy bachelor and loves beautiful women. I wonder if he’ll ever marry. Look how gorgeous he is, 6’ 2” tall, perfectly tanned, and handsome. I guess he’s also good in bed. I envy you. You’re lucky to have him. Enjoy your youth,” she rambled on.

“I think you’ve already said enough things to excite me.”

“Dear God, I know an adorable guy when I see one” Bella giggled and squeezed Monica’s arm.

Bella still attractive even in her late 50s, wearing black top and white tailored pants, and Monica, a head stopper at 5’ 9 1/2”, in a striking haute couture dress by Christian Dior, looked back to the paintings the two were previously talking about.

Monica called Guilo and he suggested that due to his busy schedule, he’ll send someone to pick her up earlier and bring her to his home and from there they’ll go to the concert. Since she’s got nothing to do she said yes.

Monica was picked up by Sergio in a limo and proceeded to his home in the hills overlooking the sea. It was indeed a beautiful place and just upon entering the property Monica’s pussy throbbed with delight.

Guilo stood on the entrance of his villa, looking handsome as he was wearing a multi-striped Diesel body-hugging shirt. He was visibly happy to see her. Sergio opened the car door for her and her shapely long creamy legs revealed by the slit of her dazzling maroon hablon dress graciously made its way out from the car. She stood tall and awesome in her heels, dressed to the nines, and complimented by a full make up and tasteful, elegant jewelry. She had let down her beautiful long hair and her perfume reached out like saying, “I am here.” Guilo kissed her hand and then led her inside. Two lovely, incredibly long-legged maids opened the door and made their curtsy bow. Both were uniformed in black sleeveless micro mini dresses with white lace hem for slip effect, small white aprons tied to their narrow waists, white lace cap, and black fishnet stockings. They were Mimi and Alma, domestic helpers, to featherdust the chandeliers, fluff the pillows, upstairs and down. Then there is Benito Peralbo the liveried butler who also greeted.

Monica marveled at the interior of the house. She gravitated at the paintings and then to the grand piano.

“Do you play that piano?”

“Yes, all the time, allow me Monica and I’ll show you.”

Guilo started playing Chopin, op. 6. Then he instructed her. She was amazed at how simple he teaches. She’d wanted to play the piano since she was a little girl but never had the chance. Now because of this man she was able to, the etudes or short ‘studies’ designed to prepare the hands for the technical challenges found in larger works. She smiled demurely but deep inside she was fully excited.

Then Guilo led her to the terrace and sat at the table where Benito arranged it for them. The afternoon fragrant breeze and the view of the sea were glorious. Pink roses adorned the table. She wished they’d just stay here for the romantic evening.

“Mind if I smoke?” she asked as she fished a stick from a wafer thin gold case.

“No, I do smoke too,” Guilo said leaping to attention to lit her cigarette.

“You’re a man of means. What do you do basically?”

“We have a family business and I have capable men and women working for me. Perhaps God made me very lucky. I don’t work I am just a think tank. The only two things I do with equal intensity are make love and race cars.”

Benito poured wine into their glasses and then served his favorite grilled cheese sandwich. Monica took the wine and refused some tarts and pastries offered.

Then a supermodel beauty appeared dwarfing the short balding man she was with.

“Ah, Monica this is Lori Williams and my lawyer, Vittorio Pesci.” The exchanged of ‘how do you dos’ cordially ensued. Guilo made an excuse for awhile and they talked in soft voices away from Monica’s earshot. Monica wondered who was that Lori to Guilo. She was so beautiful and she wanted immediate answers. Then they bid goodbye and left them.

“That lady wants me to father her a child,” he began. Monica’s eyebrows raised a bit.

“However, she’s interested only in my sperm and once the deed is done, the pup becomes the property of the six-foot-one Amazonian blonde and her rock-musician girlfriend Pietra Templo.

“What about the insemination part?”

“Oh yeah, the insemination part? Well, I’ve got to do that in a cup.”

“Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll get dressed up now and feel free to roam around. Bernie will be at your side to accompany.”

To Monica, she felt it was like foreplay touring around his house. She ended up in the powder room.

At six thirty, Guilo dressed in black tux drove with her in his blue Mercedes-Benz SLK while his driver had already driven the Bentley to pick up the de Vecchi couple.

Andre Boticelli and Susan Brighton, the British singer, wowed the dining crowd and Monica immensely enjoyed the dinner concert.

Guilo invited Monica to sleep over the house and she was greatly pleased. She was showed into a big guest room with a closet like a section in women’s dress and apparel section. After a night cap and a piano rendition they retired into each other’s room and Monica had a beautiful rest. When she woke up in the morning she was excited like a little child full of promises to enjoy a beautiful day with her new found man, handsome and so wealthy.

First agenda of the day, was a frolic and swim down below at the private beach. Monica wore a purple blousson jacket and an expensive Louis Vuitton bikini set. Guilo was in a Solar Tan Thru swimsuit. Its unique, patented fabric allows the sun to penetrate so that tan lines are imperceptible.

It was a fine spring day, the sun was lovely, and the two became like old lovers. They frolicked, hugged, kissed and rolled in the sand like the love scene in the movie “From Here to Eternity. Then they found a secluded area where they indulged in their libidinal push buttoning. Guilo was on top of her locked in torrid kisses that never seem to end as her fingers sank behind his back depending upon the degree of pleasure Guilo was giving her. Guilo divinely touched her huge shapely boobs and fresh-as-a daisy cunt. He made love to her with excruciating deftness that every nerve of her body down to the minutest fiber were roused.

Next, Monica found herself in the seat of Guilo’s red BMW Z3, the beemer that appeared in “The Golden Eye” – a James Bond flick. Guilo wore white crew neck and Monica was in an A.P.C. T-shirt and jeans. Guilo showed her the speed and thrill, up curves and mountains and she thought she came.

Back in the house, they went to the pool and played again in the water, seducing each other. She was in turquoise thong bikini and he in black Speedo. Then two masseuses arrived, a male for her and a woman for him. They lay on each table and were hosed down with warm mineral water, then rubbed with Epsom salts, hosed down again and imprisoned in a sort of “hot box” for fifteen minutes or so. When the attendants liberated them, they began administering the massage that put them into slumber land.

After dinner and wine they listened to music and even danced the tango. Then late into the night, Monica whispered that she wanted to see his bedroom. It was simply decorated room as she unexpected it to be. Aside from the fireplace it is a cozy room, with oak furnishings, pastel shades on the walls and ceiling and bed with Egyptian cotton for the sheets and pillow. It can only be described as the room for sleeping and loving. Beside the fireplace laid a fur of a white polar bear where the two began kissing. Guilo was just swaddled in Sunspel, a fine cotton skivvies that yields a feel that approximates silk. As Monica runs her finger through it, she noticed that it is first-rate underwear. He also smelled a manly fragrance and all there was left for her to do was get naked and make love to this man. As she knelt on the fluffy fur, she unfastened her haltered beige crocheted top and sexily shimmied her hips as she pulled down the matching bikini. She lay naked on the fur and waited for him to do the next move as she gingerly rubbed his thigh. His body was rightly tanned and muscled but not bulky. She thought of the way he made love to her on the beach and then on top of the hill in his BMW. Each was different but they made her feel like a woman and even drew the fiery side of her in sex.

Guilo examined her body like an anthropologist but played it like he would play a violin. Her boobs thrust up to the ceiling and there was a great arc of her ribs sloping steeply down to her soft belly the pelvic bone hinting just enough at the juncture of an abundant flesh of well-contoured thighs. In the center between the hips lies a dark patch of pubic hair, not unruly but seemed to be brushed into opposite direction emanating from the slit. Her muff was silky to the touch. When he touched the opening slit he caught a sleek wetness that glistened in his fingertip.

Guilo stripped his underwear and his cock, thick and livid sprang in its full seven inches. He rolled to her side and kissed her. They lingered for awhile in those kisses that seek and build sweet warmth and attachment. He captured her rigid nipples in his lips, fondled her richly endowed breasts and muttered adoration to every skin he nibbled and caressed.

When he was down on her, Monica held his head over her pleasure spot, making him concentrate on that, and she began to lift and lower her hips, telling by the pressure of her fingertips on his temple to lick harder or more lightly, higher or lower, left or right. She felt a finger pushing into the moist interior of her secret fold and a moment later a wet finger pushed into her pink star below. It was shocking at first but she learned to love it. He thrust his tongue deep inside her while she ground her cunt frantically against his face. “Gosh, it’s too much, it’s killing me but don’t stop, I’m about to come”. When she came, she was all shook up.

In sheer exhaustion she lay prone on the rug, eyes closed not being able to return his loving kisses. Moments later she felt his hand opening her, then his cock pressing and rubbing it up and down and she thought: Oh God it feels good.

He began to move in and out, slowly at first and then faster. She opened her eyes. His face was above hers and he was gazing at her. Then he bent his neck and looked down to where their bodies were joined. He was fascinated at how his cock goes in and out of her, and so did she. Suddenly he slowed his pace, thrusting long, and deep and then he whispered in her ears. “Kiss me while I come,” he said, and he moved his lips to hers. She felt his ragged breathing as they kissed thrusting their tongue into each other’s mouth. She loved this moment when he came. He gave a guttural cry as his back arched and lifted. It shuddered her hips as she felt him spurt inside her.

When it was over he lowered his head to her shoulder and moved his lips gently against the soft skin of her neck, whispering words, which she could not make out. After a minute or two he gave a deep sigh of contentment, kissed her mouth, then raised himself to his knees and kissed each of her breasts in turn. Finally he kissed her pussy. Her body responded instantly, and she moved her hips to push against his lips. Knowing that she was getting turned on again, he began to lick; and the thought of him licking her while it was still dripping with his semen drove her mad, and she came immediately, crying his name until the spasm passed. Nobody had ever done that to her before.

He slumped beside her at last. His arm was around her, her head on his shoulder, her thigh lying across his hips. They touched one another lethargically, she reaching down to toy his limp dick, he moving his fingers in and out of her sopping cunt. She licked his chest and tasted salt perspiration on his skin. She loved his smell.

Moments later they soaked themselves in a warm Jacuzzi. Then after toweling dry themselves they went to bed and after an hour of conversation and laughter they fell soundly asleep.

They woke up at 10:00 am and he was hard as the proverbial rock. She examined his dick and her finger traced the network of veins and felt the one that visibly throbs.

“You like my cock?”

“Yes,” and she showered it with licks and kisses. She parted his legs just to be able to extricate his nut sack and also tea-bagged them in her mouth. Guilo moaned.

“What about my cunt, do you love it?”

“Absolutely, show it to me.”

She knelt astride him and she reached out to kiss it licking the meaty inner lips that peek between the outer lips. “It’s delicious”

“I gotta pee first.”

“Well, let’s go and look how we take a pee.”

“You go first,” Monica said as they were facing the toilet seat.

“Oh, it’s so hard I couldn’t.”

She grasped it and it was like wood.

“I’ll go first to induce you.”

“He laughed and began to relax.

She cocked one foot on the toilet rim the other on the floor and peed with a powerful stream. Then it dripped, followed by a short geyser and finally a few drips until she was done. Guilo snapped some toiler paper from its attachment on the marbled wall and started dabbing her pussy tenderly. She closed her eyes and felt for the first time a man doing it to her. It was endearing. Then he peed finally like a race horse. She held it, felt the vibration and tapped after he’s done until there was no more drop and she was exhilarated.

Then they went back to bed and fiercely made love with each other. They tried various positions and loved every second of their love play. Finally, he was on top and when he had kissed her, he reached a button on an intercom hidden on the side table and called in Mimi. While he paused Monica put her finger on her clit and teased it, as she was about to come. “Yes signor, good morning!” Bring here the cup I told you. The one for…”

“Yes. Hurry up I am about to come”

Monica seemed perplexed.

It seemed like Mimi bolted the stairs. She knocked and Guilo called her to come in. “Come here quick, I’m coming, catch my semen with the cup when I pull out, understand?”

“Yes sir,”

He heaved and knelt upright then pulled out his cock from Monica’s gaping pussy and a streak of white semen shot out from him. Involuntarily, Mimi cried “Mama mia” then as she gazed, fascinated, at the tiny hole in the end of his organ, another jet came, and another, and a fourth, spurting up into the air and Mimi was quick enough to be able to catch all of them and the others that dripped. Finally she asked what to do with it. He told her to put it in the fridge. “You’re a good catcher,” Guilo said. Then she was dispatched.

“How many times have she done that?” asked Monica.

“First time”

“That was for the beautiful woman yesterday?”

“Yes, if I decided to give it to her?”

“Have you done this before?”

“No, this couple made an ad for an Art Magazine and I answered it. They chose me among the applicants.”

“How will she know it came from you?”

“It will pass the genetic test.”

Downstairs Mimi hurried to Alma to tell what she witnessed and showed her the cup. She was trembling and Alma was turned on by her story. She couldn’t believe her boss had done that at the very intimate moment of having sex with one of the most famous women in Italy. It was mindboggling. As soon as Mimi kept the cup in the fridge capping it airtight, the two pretty maids went into the den. Mimi sat on a leather sofa, yanked one of her legs on the arm rest and began feeling herself through her soaking panties. Alma mimic her and both got turned on looking at each other. Soon they stripped off their panties and fingered their excited pussies until they came with shuddering impact. Afterwards they giggled and returned to their work.

Upstairs Guilo and Monica were talking.

“You have pretty maids, do you also fuck them?”

“I don’t mess around with them, they are protected under contract and are paid professionally.”

“Don’t you get tempted with them?”

“Sometimes, but I don’t run out of women to fuck”

“Did you ever think of settling down and fuck only one woman for the rest of your life.”

“No, I love women and sex. But now that you’ve mentioned it perhaps I won’t throw the chance of getting married someday.”

“Until you’ve met the right woman, of course.”

“The right woman died years ago.”

“Oh, really so you’re looking for the woman just like her?

“No”

Monica kissed his limp dick and it rose back to life.

“Do you want another fuck?” she asked.

“Yes,”

“Gosh, you’re a fuck machine!”

Then they made love again with her on top. They sweated a lot till they reach the pinnacle of that sweet body sensation they greatly have learned to cherish.

* * * *