Le Belle Donne

(This story is a part of the Blackedmerica series, which is set in an alternate history.)

Chapter 1

Just outside San Casciano dei Bagni, on a picturesque vineyard, a beautiful Italian woman in her early forties picked another drove of grapes from one of the many bushes and put it down in her basket.

Grazie Dio...

Corrina Martaci exhaled lightly as she took off her straw hat and wiped some sweat from her forehead. The warm weather she was used to, but today it was especially humid.

Though suddenly she lit up with a smile when she felt a sudden gust of wind come in from the north and touch her face. Unbuttoning her already partly open dress, she leaned towards the breeze and felt the heavenly air flow in through her dress and caress her naked breasts.

Though as soon as it had arrived the wind faded.

Oh...

Corrina hadn't expected the wind to last, but she wished it could have stayed a little bit longer. Luckily her basket of grapes was almost full so she could get some shade when she took it over to the cellar.

With her straw hat back on, she took down a few more droves until the basket was full.

Finito...

She smiled and was about to pick up the heavy basket.

Behind Corrina, Lorenzo had just finished pruning the southernmost vines and had gone to sharpen the rake when he had caught the sight of his stunning wife. Her shapely behind, even though her dress was something a goddess would be envious of. Lorenzo felt his penis stiffening just imagining feeling her buttocks. A smile grew on his lips when he thought back to the African tourist that had spent the night at their bed and breakfast. Lorenzo had been knelt down beside his wife, who had been on all fours, and he had spread her butt cheeks and intently watched as the black man slowly eased his cock into Corrina's tight butthole.

"Oii!" If Corrina hadn't attempted to lift her heavy basket full of grapes, Lorenzo would have probably spurted in his work trousers.

"Ehi." Instead, Lorenzo called out to his wife and got her attention before she picked up the basket.

"Let me get that for you." Lorenzo hurried over to Corrina and picked up the basket.

"Grazie, amore mio." Corrina leaned over and gave her sweet husband a small peck on his cheek.

"Prego." Lorenzo smiled feeling grateful to be able to help his wife.

"I wonder if this heat will ever end?" Corrina lightly whisked on the front of her dress, back and forth, to create some cooler air.

"I... wonder..." Lorenzo paused when he got a glimpse of Corrina's amazing chest. Her breasts looked even more spectacular, if that was even possible, from the shine of her sweat. Lorenzo found himself lightly licking his lips as he watched a single drop of his wife's perspiration run down the fullness of her soft breast.

Hehe...

Corrina pretended not to notice her husband's gaze and continued to tease him by whisking on her dress, letting him get an eyeful. Even though it was so warm outside, she couldn't help but get a bit horny from her husband's attention.

"Well, we should maybe get those grapes inside." Corrina looked at the heavy basket Lorenzo was carrying and smiled. Though her husband was somewhat scrawny, she knew that he could carry the basket. He had worked on farms his entire life so he had that farmer's strength, but she kind of wanted him to put the basket away so they fool around for a bit.

"Uhm, yes of course." Lorenzo had to try and adjust his trousers as he walked. His erection, though small as it was, was still pushing hard against the insides and made it harder to walk.

"Oh, did you tell Alberto and Isabella to prepare the guestrooms for the start of the bathing season?" Corinna remembered as walked along the dirt path between the vines, towards the storage cellar where they kept the grapes cool after harvesting them.

The bathing season had become a celebrated part of the year in San Casciano dei Bagni, where a lot of tourists visited the valley to enjoy its many hot springs. More visited than the hot springs were the famous bathhouses. A few of which, even date back to 500 BC where they were first built by the Etruscan King Porsena. Legend says that he built them so that his wife Semni and the wives of the nobles of the Royal court could enjoy the company of Nubian men whilst also bathing in the nourishing water.

"Actually, Isabella just came by before. She was on her way to meet up with Adriana down by the lake, and that Alberto was just finishing up the guestrooms." Lorenzo told his wife.

"Well, I guess we'll have some time for ourselves then." Corrina looked at her husband and smiled. She knew how much her son was in love with Adriana, the girl from the nearby vineyard, and that he would probably sneak down to the lake.

Lorenzo recognized the lustful look in his wife's eyes which only made his erection push even harder against the insides of his trousers.

To the south, between the vineyards of the Martacis and their neighbors the Abruzzos, laid the beautiful and peaceful Venci Lake. Near its northern shore, in the warm yet cooling water, Isabella Martaci and Adriana Abruzzo were skinny dipping.

"Hah." Isabella smiled and laughed as she ran her hands through the water and splashed her closest friend Adriana. As she continued, her long black hair, now drenched by the lake's water, flowed down her back and side to side with each wave of her arms. The tall eighteen-year-old girl had been blessed with her mother's beauty, a slender physique like that of Milan's models, and perky breasts that seemed to defy gravity.

"Hah, I'll get you back." Adriana smiled and began to splash her friend back. Adriana, who was a year older than Isabella, had wavy dark brown hair and a slender yet curvaceous body. Though her curves were mostly centered on her sizable chest, and to say that her breasts were big would be a gross understatement. Her amazingly huge breasts ran in the family, her sixty-year-old grandmother Ornella most likely had the largest breasts in the valley.

"Hah." Each time Adriana ran her hands through the water and splashed her friend, her massive breasts would softly bounce into each other and make fleshy waves of their own.

Whilst they doused each other with the soothing water, Isabella noticed how Adriana kept glancing over at the shore.

"You know, I think he'll be here." Isabella eased up on the playful water throwing for a moment.

"What? I'm not looking for anyone." Adriana looked over at her friend, pretending not to know what she meant.

"Oh don't give me that, it's pretty obvious that you're looking for my brother." Isabella had seen how her friend looked at her brother. It was pretty clear that she had warm feelings for him. And with Alberto, it was even easier to know that he was in love with Adriana. Not only, from the way, he fawned over her, but from his art.

Her brother was, in fact, something of an artist. Whenever he had some spare time from his chores or the work on the vineyard, he often, or more than often even, sketched in his notebook. Isabella often teased him a little about it, but in all honesty, she found her brother to be a very talented painter. She was even sure that one day his art would be on the walls of the galleries in Florence, Milan or even in Rome.

And the reason Isabella knew that her brother was in love with Adriana, was because most of his art was of her.

Over at the Martacis, the warm air swirled its way in through the large open windows of the barn's loft, where Alberto inspected his work. Just a few weeks earlier he and his father had replaced the loft's doors with windows and finished converting it into the third guestroom. It had been quite a bit of work, but they had both been quite proud of the outcome.

Though he was eager to get down to the lake, Alberto went through the room with a fine tooth comb. He really wanted to make sure that everything was just right, especially since a few of their guests each summer were black. The bed, which of course was the cornerstone of the room, was an Excelsior, one of Italy's top brands. Having brushed off the cool and soft bamboo sheets, Alberto looked over the furniture, which consisted of a small oak table with two matching chairs. A shelf, also made of beautiful oak, that held a couple of noteworthy books.

One being Franco Pugliese's autobiography,

A Beautiful Journey,

where Franco and his wife Berenice, after having spent their honeymoon in the cape of South Africa, take a wonderful nine months long trip through Africa, at the end of which, Berenice gave birth to a beautiful black baby boy.

Along with the books, there were also several art pieces from Italian artists on the shelf. One of the creations,

L'abbraccio

, featured an inner set of ten small spheres of different colored wood, surrounded by a circle carved in Ebony.

The Embrace,

which was its English translation, had been a gift to Alberto from Valeria Trevisan, a local artist, who was one of the few people Alberto had shown his own art.

Valeria had been quite taken by Alberto's talented illustrations and had even asked him to do a nude portrait of her. At first, Alberto had, of course, blushed at the thought of seeing the beautiful twenty-five-year-old woman naked. Though he had in fact seen her partially nude before.

Once when he had stopped by her small shop in the comune of San Casciano dei Bagni, to show her some of his illustrations, he had caught a glimpse of her in her work studio. Not only had she been topless, but she had been sucking a black man's big manhood. Alberto had tried not to peek at them, but Valeria's full naked breasts and the way she was making love with the man's black cock with her lips made it impossible.

The only thing, in Alberto's mind, that could have possibly been more beautiful, would have been if it had been Adriana in there.

The aroma that embroiled Valeria's persona when she came out with the black man from the back was a fragrance that Alberto will never forget. It was a mixture of the delightful oil that she bathed in, and the musky smell of the man's cum.

Alberto had watched when the black man had come all over Valeria's breasts. Streams of hot cum splashing against her amazing breasts. After which she had smeared her breasts with it, covering them completely.

The last part was something Alberto knew was quite common amongst women. When he was younger, he overheard his mother talking to some other women in town about how they loved to smear the black man's juice all over their chests. Not only could they enjoy the delicious scent, but it also made their husbands horny, knowing that they had been with a black man.

Even though Alberto had become quite flustered when Valeria had asked him to paint a nude portrait of her, he had eventually agreed. When she had slipped out of her dress, Alberto had gasped at her naked beauty. Her long, slender and shapely body was a sight to behold. Her wavy and flowing brown hair added to her pretty face in such a way that he could not find words to express its wonder.

During the painting, he found himself having to excuse himself several times to go to the bathroom.

Naturally, Valeria knew the reason why he had to go, and it wasn't to pee. Instead of going, she had told him that she didn't mind if he spurted in his pants when he painted her. Though at first, he had been a bit embarrassed at the thought of doing so. It wasn't that he hadn't come in his shorts before, he had done so on many occasions, especially when he had found himself looking at Adriana. But he had never done so in front of a woman who knew that he was looking at her, and coming. At least that was what he told himself. If he had to be completely honest with himself however he was pretty sure that Adriana had caught him a few times, especially with the way she had looked over and smiled at him.

When Alberto had finished the portrait, Valeria had been so moved by how it turned out, that she had given him,

L'abbraccio

which was Valeria's representation of the black man's love for all women, of all ethnicities.

Up in the barn, next to the shelf, Alberto had put up a copy of the latest rendition of the classic Italian

Benvenuto in Italia

poster, which featured the Italian president, Ilaria Pisano, posing nude in the middle of two naked black men. Alberto felt his small penis rise when he looked at the naked and cheerful forty-two-year-old woman, who along with the hung black men, who both were a foot taller than her, waved and welcomed everyone to Italy with bright smiles.

The

Welcome to Italy

poster had been a presidential tradition since 1952 when Italian president Giacomo Tocci got the idea for the advertisement. In the poster, where he posed nude, his penis hanging limply between his meager balls, Giacomo is seen with a welcoming smile whilst handing over his eager and joyful wife Benedetta to a big and naked black man. This also became the way male Presidents posed for the poster, whilst female Presidents, like Ilaria, posed in their manner.

When released, Giacomo's poster became an instant success and sparked an epidemic amongst married couples who all wanted to pose for a similar photograph. A type of framed photograph which grew into a prominent and highly adored feature in the Italian home.

Alberto's parents had their framed picture next to the dinner table.

Mm...

For a split second, Alberto could see himself handing off Adriana to two big black men, which made his feeble penis push against the fabric of his shorts.

"Well, I guess that should be about it." Alberto brushed off the sofa which they had been able to add to the somewhat larger guestroom in the barn. Though it was a decorative sofa, it was mostly there to offer a comfortable place for a man to sleep whenever his wife spent the night in the bed with a black man. Something, mostly due to space, that his parents hadn't been able to offer in their other guest rooms.

Early on, when his parents, Lorenzo and Corrina had just opened up their home as a small bed and breakfast to guests of their beautiful valley, they had found that whenever a couple had invited a black man over, or when a black man had rented the room and invited a married woman and her husband over, that the husband would always spend the night on the floor.

Lorenzo and Corrina had felt so bad when they realized that since there wasn't any room for a sofa or a second bed, that, of course, the husbands would have to sleep on the floor after having performed

la resa.

La resa

was a cherished and very romantic Italian tradition amongst married couples, where the husband, just before his wife was about to go to bed with a black man, announced to the black man that his bed and his wife are now his. Usually with the words;

Il mio letto e mia moglie sono tuoi.

Tradiontainlly,

La resa

, had been a custom that men did after they got married, and not before. However, in a recent feature article in the

Corriele del mezzogior,

a popular Italian newspaper, a journalist had asked the question; Should young unmarried couples also be able to use the popular tradition? The article, which made it clear that there was a huge desire amongst younger and unmarried Italians, sparked a national debate on

Rai,

Italy's largest public TV channel.

The debate, hosted by beloved news anchorwoman Giulia Ferri, became one of the most watched debates in recent times Italy...

"Bentornati, I'm Giulia Ferri, and we are in our final hour of the national La Resa debate." The greeting and bright smile of the busty thirty-nine-year-old woman were met by applauds from the studio audience. As always she looked utterly stunning. Her golden brown hair rested on the shoulders of her white silk blouse. A blouse that unveiled the soft and tanned skin of her majestic breasts through a cleavage that one could almost drown in. The way that her sizable breasts moved when she walked, jiggling slightly with each step, revealed the fact that she was braless. During the debate, her jugs had even fallen out when she had leaned forward to interview the many black men who had given their invaluable opinions.

Other than her blouse, Giulia wore a short and matching skirt that snuggly wrapped around her round and shapely bottom. A bottom that was pushed up and accentuated even more by her glamorous high heels. The short nature of her skirt also showed off her long, beautiful and smooth legs.

"Before we get started, I would just like to once again thank the ambassadors of the proud African nations of Kenya, Namibia, and Congo, Mr. Jaali Omond, Mr. Quinton Mbumba, and Mr. Muteba Lunda, for having taken the time to join us this afternoon." Giulia paused for a moment as the audience applauded.

"Like with all important votes, I know that we have all asked the black men in our lives what their thoughts are on the matter, and how they are going to vote." The audience members all nodded.

Paulo Bianco, a young man in the audience, who had driven all the way from Lecce with his fiancé Carlotta clapped proudly, whilst he tried to focus on what Giulia was saying. His attention, however, was drawn towards his beautiful fiancé Carlotta, and the handsome black man who sat between him and Carlotta. Precum flowed from the tip of his small penis as he glanced over at them. The black man had his hand down Carlotta's skirt and was fingering her sweet pussy. Paulo could tell that she was holding back the urge to moan since she didn't want to disturb the debate. Occasionally the man would lean over and passionately kiss Carlotta, whilst his hand slid across her chest, fondling her soft breasts.

"And with the wise words from Mr. Omond, echoed by his fellow ambassadors, I think we have a clear indication in which way the vote is going to go. But, before we reveal the result, we have a couple more guests to hear from." Giulia turned and walked over to a young man who sat in one of the five studio chairs. On her way over, the camera captured her curvaceous behind and the way she sensually swayed her hips.

"Buongiorno, Pietro." Giulia greeted the shy nineteen-year-old that she had met for a couple of minutes during the break, along with his girlfriend Mia.

"Buongiorno." Pietro nodded politely. The young man tried his best to keep eye contact, but his eyes did drift down and get lost for a second in Giulia's deep and soft cleavage.

"So, Pietro..." The young man's awkward and shy gaze reminded Giulia of her husband Salvatore. He had been like that when they had met, and even now after ten years of marriage, she still found him looking at her in that same shy manner. Of course, it was also because he absolutely loved her breasts. Giulia loved how Salvatore's eyes would light up after a black man had splashed her breasts full of cum, and Salvator got to lick and suck them clean. Having seen how lovingly Pietro looked at his girlfriend Mia, and the way he, from time to time, glanced down at the snug top that hugged her perky breasts, Giulia could tell that Pietro was probably just like Salvatore.

"You would like to be able to perform La resa before you are married?" Giulia could tell that she had to coax him for a little bit until his shyness faded.

"Yes... I..." Though still nervous about being on camera, Pietro managed to gather himself after having listened to Giulia's soft and comforting voice.

"I... just feel that La resa is so much more than just a tradition. It is a way for us to truly express our esteem for the black man. And whenever a handsome black man takes my beautiful girlfriend..." Pietro looked past the camera and out to the front row where his girlfriend Mia sat.