Italian Holiday Pt 02

4.

The idea came to her after consuming dinner, as outside the porthole the light was fading fast and the lights inside the cabin were dimmed to allow for rest. Michelle opened the small purse reserved for business travelers and pulled out the complimentary socks. She bent her right leg and picked up the first sock.

"Too bad," escaped Colt.

"What?" looked at him Michelle.

His gaze planted in hers, Colt answered her with confidence that she found extremely hot. "Too bad you decided to wear socks."

"And why?"

"Because your feet are beautiful and it's a pleasure to look at them."

"They're getting cold," was the first excuse that came to her mind.

"I would gladly warm them for you," ventured Colt.

"How?" cast the hook Michelle.

Without saying anything, Colt reached out a hand, took her foot, lifted it up, and placed it on his own legs, then began to massage it slowly.

Michelle found herself holding her breath but made no attempt to move the foot.

"And then..." resumed Colt, and with a gesture Michelle never expected to witness, especially in a plane with other people who might see them, he took the foot again, lifted it and brought it to his lips, for a kiss as light as sensual.

In the darkness of the plane broken only by the images of a few turned-on TV screens, Michelle found herself shivering with pleasure. 'If Brent saw all this', she thought.

"Sounds like an effective method to me," she whispered in a sensual voice to Colt, looking into his eyes.

"Then I guess we can do without the socks, don't you think?" And before Michelle could answer, he reached down to her other leg, lifted it to knee height, slowly caressed it down her calf up to the foot, grasping it gently but firmly before placing it next to her right one. Then, taking the blanket, he covered his lower part of the body, avoiding prying eyes, and while resuming chatting began a long, gentle, slow massage, his thumb pressing the sole of her foot, his fingers caressing the toes, squeezing, spreading, running around them slowly.

"The advantage of business class. I'd fly around the world pampered like that," smiled the blonde manager.

If all this had excited Michelle, the same could be said for Colt, who had never expected such a situation but, now that those sensual feet were literally in his hands, was determined to extend the moment. Between caresses and massages, he also found himself touching the toe rings several times, twirling them around, making the gesture of pulling them off, before placing them back in place.

"One night, I was in Austin..." and Michelle started to tell him what the man had shouted to her while walking along 6th Street.

"I'm sure he would envy me a lot now," retorted Colt. And before Michelle could understand what was happening, he lowered his head, lifted her right foot and brought it to his mouth. For a few moments his tongue played with the toes, caressing them carefully, then closing his lips tightly, he began to slowly pull the foot out, slipping the ringlets off the toes and storing them in his mouth.

Michelle found herself aroused like never before in recent times, feeling her pussy throbbing and her head spinning as if she were drunk, as Colt went put her foot back under the blanket, then looked at her, smiled, opened his mouth and showed her the two little toe rings on his tongue.

"Oh God" was all Michelle managed to say, as under the blanket her foot came in contact with something hard, very hard.

No words were needed, no invitation, but now lost in her own pleasure, as ecstatic as incredulous for having finally taken a step that she had imagined so many times, Michelle let herself go. "Carpe diem," seize the day, the Latin saying of one of her favorite movies, 'Dead Poet's Society' with Robin Williams, was all that mattered at that moment. Her left foot joined her right one, and as Colt stroked her ankles gently, she began a slow but pressing masturbation to the cock of the man she had met only a couple of hours earlier.

The kiss that followed shortly thereafter was just the consequence of an increasingly hot situation, and Michelle almost laughed at one point as she thought of the world's most exclusive club, the 10.000 Mile High Club.

"Have you ever had sex on a plane?" she asked Colt, before sticking her tongue back in his mouth.

"No, have you?"

"Neither, but right now I'd do you and I'd let you do anything to me," she whispered to him as her foot slowly traveled along what appeared to be a very respectable cock.

"Undo your pants, I want to feel I properly", she added soon after, as Colt's hand had moved up past her knees under her skirt.

"You are an extremely exciting woman, beautiful, full of charm. And naughty" he murmured in her ear, his tongue caressing the lobe as, with some effort to avoid from being discovered, he unbuckled his belt, and unzipped his pants. A few moments later, Michelle's feet enveloped that hot, pulsating piece of meat, her fingers spreading around its base, beginning a very slow, sensual masturbation.

At the same time, Colt's hand had moved up between those thighs that for long years had been Brent's private property. Then, without Michelle offering the slightest resistance, the businessman's fingers reached the edge of her panties.

"You're soaked," he told her as an incontrovertible fact, as his fingers traveled up and down the pleasure-soaked fabric. Michelle in response squeezed his cock even tighter, accelerating the movement.

When Colt's first finger, having shifted the elastic of her slip, slipped inside her, Michelle let out a big gasp that for a moment made her fear that someone had heard her. She felt her pussy hot, throbbing almost as if it had a life of its own, as that long, thick finger, after coming out moved up along the labia to hunt for her swollen, hard clitoris.

"You kill me," whispered Michelle, before biting his lower lip in a carnal kiss. Then, reaching out, she slipped her hand under Colt's blanket, going to uncover the cock that was helping to send her over the edge.

"God, how big it is. And hot. How much I would like it inside me," she told him in an almost sobbing voice, as her hand sped up the work begun by her feet.

In response Colt sped up the movement of his fingers, his thumb joining his index finger to squeeze her clitoris, a gesture that caused Michelle's pussy to spasm suddenly. Immediately afterward, then, as his thumb continued to press on the little button, Colt almost fired two fingers into the pussy of the blond manager, whose husband sat unsuspectingly a few dozen rows of seats back.

It was the point of no return for Michelle, who suddenly relinquished her grip on the cock, grabbed the back of Colt's head and pulled it violently toward herself, drowning the scream of her own orgasm in the man's mouth as his fingers continued to relentlessly ravage her pussy, which seemed to melt with pleasure. Had it not been for the noise of the airplane, an attentive listener would not have missed the 'squish squish' sound of Colt's fingers between her legs.

It took a few minutes for Michelle to recover from her orgasm, as her heart began to slow down and her breathing became quieter. Meanwhile, Colt's assault had become a pleasurable caress, his fingers contouring her hot lips, her swollen clitoris, her panties soaked with pleasure. Michelle kissed Colt softly, wondering how Brent would react if he saw her at that moment, then with her left foot went back for the Texan's cock, finding it even harder if possible.

"I see I'm not the only one who enjoyed this. But I think it's time to return the favor, don't you think?" she said with a flirtatious smile, resuming the footjob.

"Tell me you're not a dream," Colt whispered, with a stare that pierced her, as with one hand he went to grab her feet, squeezing them even tighter around his cock and increasing the movement, and with the other went for a breast.

The lust in her eyes Michelle for a dream finally coming true, the woman increased the pace, never taking her eyes off Colt's face. Who at one point closed his, his body growing tense, his fingers squeezing hard her nipple.

"I'm going to cum," he warned her.

"Come on my feet," Michelle urged him under her breath, one foot continuing to press along the shaft and the other promptly rising to cover the bulb.

Moments later the first hot, violent spurt invaded the toes and the sole of her foot, followed by a second and then a third one, as Colt seemed to be in spasm.

"Fuck..." was all Michelle could manage to say couple of minutes later, as her feet slowly kept massaging the cock that was starting to lose vigor.

"Poor thing, they're all sticky", Colt whispered to her shortly afterward. And, making sure no one could see them, lifted the blanket and, first one, then the other, he brought both feet to his mouth, licking and cleaning first the toes, then the sole and finally the neck from his cum. The gesture, completely unexpected, gave another mini orgasm to Michelle, who helped herself to reach the peak for the second time in just a few minutes by fingering violently her clitoris.

After Colt readjusted the blanket, she pulled him to her for another deep kiss.

"Your cum definitely tastes good," she told him, tasting it from his mouth.

The two continued to kiss and talk softly, but the now deep night and the drop in adrenaline conciliated the arrival of sleep. "Let me keep your feet on my lap" Colt asked her. And that was how Michelle fell asleep.

_. _

When she woke up a few hours later, Michelle was at first a little disoriented, but that hand lightly caressing her foot brought her back to the craziest adventure of her life.

Shortly thereafter the stewardess served them breakfast, then, before landing, Michelle went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Her shaggy hair and tired eyes were witnesses to those few hours of passion. When she returned to her seat, she signaled Colt to come closer.

"This is a gift for you," she whispered to him, sliding in his hand her panties, still humid from her orgasms.

"And this is my phone number," she added. 'The second time I gave it to a stranger in less than 12 hours', she laughed silently.

Upon disembarking, the two exchanged a quick kiss.

"I hope to see you again, but even if I don't, I will never forget this night," Colt told her with a sweet smile.

"I have to confess something -- Michelle added before separating --. I knew about the anklet theory, and if I wear it on my right side, it's for that very reason. But, until this night I had never belonged to anyone other than my husband. You have been my first one on this new path I am starting. And it's been sublime. So, thank you."

She brushed his lips with another gentle kiss, then left.

_. _

Five hours later, landed in Milan, Michelle and Brent were in the cab that was taking them from the Linate airport to the hotel, when Michelle took her husband's hand and slipped it under her skirt, putting it boldly between her legs.

"What...?" Brent looked at her surprised.

"Get ready to hear a good story," Michelle winked at him.

5.

As luxurious as it was, state of the art in terms of design, comfort, and, above all, a fantastic view, with its large windows opening onto the new Milan, the area of Piazza Gae Aulenti, the Vertical Forest skyscraper, considered the most beautiful in the world, and the Isola district, the neighborhood that, in Milan's post-Expo blossoming, could be compared to New York's TriBeCa, none of this seemed to interest Brent the moment he and Michelle entered the room on the 22nd floor of the Verticale Una Hotel.

Credit should be given to Michelle for attempting to enjoy the beautiful view of one of Europe's most booming and fermenting cities, but she just had the time to deposit her trolley in the corner of the room, that Brent was already all over her. And if you think of him as a man over 190 cm with an athletic and powerful physique, you can understand how the poor little wife found herself helpless.

Embracing her impetuously, Brent literally threw Michelle onto the large king size bed and, before she could attempt to react, stuck his head under her dress and between her legs, assaulting her pussy like a thirsty man in the desert. He knew that Michelle was wearing panties when she boarded the plane for London. How she had 'lost' them was what he would shortly discover, but in the meantime the traces of pleasure that still soaked her pussy told him of a the red-light flight night.

The scent emanating from Michelle's sex after the long journey and her secret adventure seemed to ignite her husband's enthusiasm even more. After an initial assault on her pussy, Brent began to concentrate on her inner thighs, then went up to her labia, licking them eagerly as if he were a little dog in ecstasy over his mistress's return home. Then he started contouring them, but always being careful to avoid her clitoris with his tongue. He knew how particularly sensitive Michelle's little button was, and how much his wife appreciated being licked until she lost control. And because of this, almost sadistically, Brent persisted in not even touching it, despite the increasing pleas of Michelle, who at one point grabbed her husband by the hair and tried to direct him to the focus of her pleasure.

She tried. And failed miserably, because Brent grabbed her hands, locking them in his, continuing as if nothing had happened to circumnavigate her sex, his tongue tickling the no-man's-land between her pussy and anus, her labias drenched in desire sucked into his mouth, the increasingly copious liquid flooding his face. Michelle, increasingly frustrated, trashed violently her legs on the big bed.

Treacherous in his sexual torture, Brent moved with his mouth just an inch or so above his wife's clit but, instead of tickling it with his tongue, let out a violent blow that hit her sensitive spot violently. Michelle went wild. "Oh God, Brent, yes yes," the words stumbled between Michelle's gaping lips, feeling she was so close to orgasm. "Please, conti..." but she did not get to complete the word, that the ringing of their room bell alerted the two that their bags were ready to be delivered.

"Fuuuuuck" she moaned in frustration.

"Don't even try to move, you've wanted to act slutty and now we're starting a new game. Mine," Brent told her halfway between serious and amused, moving from the bed while lifting her dress. Her legs wide open and her pussy glistening with her juices, Michelle offered an irresistible erotic spectacle.

"But..." tried to object Michelle, before a slap on her pussy, not too hard but certainly firm from Brent, stopped her.

"I. Said. Don't. Move." He ordered. And as the doorbell broke the silence of the room a second time, Brent headed for the door.

"Your suitcases sir" the porter announced himself in a somewhat stunted English.

"Thank you, just put them there" Brent pointed him to a corner in the room opposite to the bed where Michelle, her eyes closed, held her breath, as if not looking and not breathing could make her invisible to the world.

But the porter, a young man in his twenties, tall, dark, and pleasant-looking, was anything but blind, and while trying not to be overly blatant, could not help but cast more than one glance toward that body lying on the bed, legs obscenely spread wide. Brent, a step behind, was enjoying the scene, his cock swollen in his pants.

"Is this okay here?" said the porter, trying to sound much more confident and unflappable than he was.

"Perfect, thank you," Brent replied.

The boy left the luggage on the floor and was preparing to leave, when Brent took his wallet, pulled out a ten euro bill, but then stopped his hand in midair.

"You can choose: this tip," and he waved the bill. "Or that one," and with a gesture he pointed to Michelle.

The porter looked at him, red in the face. In his time at the hotel, where he worked to pay for his studies, he had experienced several borderline situations, but that one...

Without answering Brent, he walked over to the bed.

"Wait. Here, too, you must choose. Either lick my wife to orgasm or get a blowjob."

Michelle, motionless and in some ways horrified, stiffened even more upon hearing those words.

The boy looked at her for a long time, uncertain of the situation. He had noticed the woman when the couple had checked in, and in observing her elegant walk he had found himself thinking about how he would have liked to sink his face into that toned butt. So, opposite to what 90 percent of men probably would have chosen, he knelt on the bed, his face inches from that glistening pussy, her well-defined labia almost seeming to ask only one thing: kiss us.

And the boy took no time to start kissing Michelle's pussy, his tongue voraciously parting her outer lips to dive inside her cunt, his mouth creating a kind of pneumatic vacuum in such a frantic state that to Brent it appeared as the boy, more than licking, seemed to try to eat his wife's sex. And when his teeth took possession of the clitoris, the tongue tapping over it firmly and insistently, Michelle went off. Her fists forcefully grab the sheets, trying to rip them off, while her legs clawed at the boy's back.

"Yes, that's it... keep going... oh God, I love this sooo much... Please please please..." she began to mumble and beg almost incoherently, as her pelvis lifted inviting the boy to conquer her sex even deeper.

When then the porter descended with his mouth a few inches, capturing her labia, biting and chewing them slowly, his tongue penetrating as deep as possible into her pussy and his nose contributing to the cause by pressing hard on her clit, Michelle took the road of no return. The floodgates broke the levees of her pleasure, her breath seemed to cut off in her throat, her hands grabbed the boy's hair and with an almost primitive violence began to press the face of a person that just a few minutes before was a perfect stranger, wiggling like an obsessive with her pelvis, the rubbing of his short beard on her inner thighs and pussy amplifying the sensation of pleasure.

As Brent, leaning against the wall, watched excited as never before in his life, his hand stroking above his pants a very hard cock, Michelle came violently. Her legs jerked in the air as if struck by an electric shock, before returning to violently clutching the boy's torso, her head beginning to thrash uncontrollably from side to side on the mattress as a guttural moan of pleasure accompanied a lavish explosion.

Michelle was experiencing one of the wildest orgasms ever, and the more she was cumming, the more the boy sank his tongue between those lips that felt like a river in flood, his teeth clenching the pulsing flesh, his face soaked from her orgasm. It was a long, violent orgasm, with peaks of pleasure followed for a very few seconds by a sensation of calm, before a new tongue stroke, a bite, or the clitoris sucked violently into the porter's mouth, gave Michelle a new climax.

She did not know how much time had elapsed since she had begun to cum but, when the porter pulled from her pussy his face soaked with her juices, Michelle found herself out of breath, out of energy, out of everything.

"You've earned it all, thank you," Brent said in an excited tone, handing the porter a 20 euro bill.

"Thanks to you. And should you still need me, ask for Lucio," replied the boy, before walking to the door, opening it and walking out, the face still lucid of Michelle's cum.

"You're amazing," Brent whispered as soon as the door was closed. But Michelle, exhausted from the long journey and orgasms, was already asleep.