WIFE'S FEET SHARED IN ITALY PART 2
As the afternoon went on. Vincenzo and I massaged my wife's beautiful feet. Both of us savoring the sensuous aroma and taste. Both of us were drooling over her sexy soles and enjoyed taking her toes in our mouths. Carol was in heaven letting two men have their way with her feet.
Eventually we took a break for another glass of wine. The evening air was thick with the scent of citrus and the warmth of the Italian sun. Vincenzo and I remained in quiet reverence at Carol's feet, our hands and lips had traced delicate paths along her soft skin. Her sighs of pleasure wove into the indulgence she had just experienced.
Then, suddenly Carol excused herself, standing gracefully and disappearing into the house, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the setting sun.
At first, I thought nothing of it. Perhaps my wife needed a moment to freshen up. But as minutes passed, an unsettling curiosity took hold.
I rose, glancing at Vincenzo, who met my eyes with a knowing smirk.
"I'll check on Carol," I said, stepping inside.
The house was quiet, save for the distant sound of the rustling leaves outside. I moved down the hall toward the bathroom and noticed the door wasn't fully shut. A soft gasp drifted through the small gap, stopping me in my tracks.
I nudged the door open slightly, and the sight before me stole my breath.
Carol sat perched on the bathroom counter, her short dress hiked up, her panties pushed down around one ankle. Her fingers danced between her thighs, her head tilted back, lips parted in a silent cry of pleasure. I could see her soaking wet pussy dripping down her legs.
She was lost in it. Completely unraveling.
For a moment, I simply watched, my cock stiffening at the sight of my wife pleasuring herself. Then, as her orgasm crested, her name slipped from my lips. "Carol?"
Her eyes fluttered open, locking onto mine in wide-eyed shock, her body still trembling from release.
"You couldn't wait, could you?" I murmured, stepping closer to her.
She shuddered as I reached out, my fingers tilting her chin upward. Then I kissed her, tasting her lips before she even spoke.
"Having you both worship my feet like that... it drove me crazy," she whispered, her voice thick with lust. I wanted to fuck her right then but we had a guest waiting. She regained composure, wiped her wet pussy and thighs and pulled her panties on.
I smirked. "Then let's not keep our guest waiting."
She slid down from the counter, smoothing her dress, but there was a new energy. I was amazed at Carols behavior but I was not complaining.
Dinner with Vincenzo & Sophia
By the time we returned, Vincenzo was reclining comfortably, swirling a glass of red wine. He looked up at Carol, as if sensing the shift in my wife's demeanor.
I broke silence, "We'd love to have you for dinner," I said.
Vincenzo's brows lifted. "Grazie, Would you mind if my lovely wife, Sophia, joined us?"
Carol and I exchanged a glance.
"Of course," she answered in a playful voice. "The more, the merrier."
Later that evening, as the sky deepened, Vincenzo and Sophia arrived.
Sophia was stunning--olive skin, dark waves of black hair cascading over her shoulders, an elegance that matched her husband's confident charm. But it was Carol who commanded the room.
She wore a short, flowing summer dress, the fabric light and airy, swaying with every step. And I knew the secret hidden beneath it, I had her remove her panties. Her cute round tight ass lurking just beneath the hem of her dress.
Vincenzo noticed, too. His eyes flickered down as Carol bent slightly to pour him a welcome glass of wine, the hem of her dress lifting just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her beautiful bare bottom.
Dinner was rich with conversation, laughter, and glances that lingered too long. A subtle game had begun, and all of us knew it.
The evening unfolded over candlelight and rich Italian wine, the air thick with something unspoken but undeniably present.
Our dinning room bathed in the golden glow of candles, provided the perfect setting. One could sense the boundaries of propriety blurring with each passing moment.
Carol sat across from Vincenzo, her movements deliberate, every flick of her wrist, every slow sip of wine, a quiet invitation. Her dress--a whisper of fabric barely clinging to her body--shifted with each movement, the soft breeze from the open terrace teasing its hem higher.
Vincenzo noticed. So did Sophia. If I didn't know better I could almost sense that Carol was playing footsie under the table, the way she was moving in her chair. Was she?
I watched as Sophia's dark eyes flickered between Carol and her husband, a coy smile playing at the corners of her lips. She leaned in, resting her chin against her hand. "Carol," she mused, her voice smooth as silk, "you seem... radiant tonight."
Carol smiled, a slow, indulgent curve of her lips. "It must be the company."
Vincenzo chuckled, swirling his wine. "I'd say that's a compliment." He winked at Carol.
The conversation danced between casual and suggestive, each word laced with a charge just beneath the surface. The wine flowed freely, loosening inhibitions, sharpening gazes. I felt the shift--the moment when the air between us grew thicker,
Sophia's fingers traced absentminded circles along the stem of her glass. "You know, Vincenzo has always had an appreciation for beauty," she said, her gaze flickering to Carol.
