I fell in love with my wife on a holiday in Italy. I was visiting Florence for a few days five years ago. It was high summer, blazing hot, and I was walking along the Arno towards the Ponte Veccio when I first saw her.
She is a stunning Florentine beauty. Mocha-skinned in the summer, with flowing raven locks and musty dark eyes. She also had curves to die for.
As she stood leaning against a column, gently licking a melting gelato, I fell for her, and had to go introduce myself. We got chatting, went out for dinner and I got a kiss. But being a good catholic girl, nothing more. I managed to convince her to come and visit me in London, and she did so a few weeks later. A few more reciprocal visits and we fell deeply in love.
She agreed to move to the UK, and we later planned to marry. I am financially secure, so she was able to move in with me without worrying about work, although she continues to work part-time in the art world - something she was doing in Florence before she met me.
This gives her the opportunity to travel a lot, which allows her to engage in her second favourite activity - extramarital sex.
We had married about 12 months after meeting - rushed I know, but we had fallen so deeply in love. Now, I had mentioned she held sex back because she was catholic. That is true, but not strictly accurate. She had held sex back from me, because she had decided it was time to marry to get her strict catholic family off her back - as they disapproved of her promiscuous ways. My wife is a total nympho, and I admit I can't keep up.
Before I met her, unbeknownst to me, she was well known in Florence as a total slut - she would fuck anyone who took her fancy, and with her seductive curves and beauty it wasn't hard for her. She had fucked men from the art work - dealers and curators, baristas from coffee bars, even random men on inter-city trains.
She had decided I would miss out, so our marriage was 'done properly' the catholic way - just conveniently ignoring her previous sex life.
So we had a beautiful church wedding in an ancient church in Florence, both our families were there. She looked amazing in her figure-hugging bodiced wedding dress - like something on the cover of a wedding magazine. I felt like the luckiest man in the world, and still do.
However our wedding day was also the first day of her cuckoldry. Apparently on the way to her hotel room the night before, she had bumped into an old lover, a passionate lover with a big dick that she couldn't resist. I imagine her biting the corner of her lip they way she does as she gives into temptation, and her pussy flooding with desire.
He spent the night before my wedding pounding my fiance several times over. Of course, I didn't find this out until much later, but needless to say, my wife was strangely tired on her wedding day.
When we left the reception and headed to the hotel for our honeymoon, she was strangely subdued - I didn't know why until later. She fell asleep several times on the way to the beautiful Tuscan country villa where we were to stay for a few days.
I knew I was expected to consummate our marriage, but I was highly nervous. I wasn't the most sexually experienced man, and most of my previous efforts had resulted in swift completion, plus disappointment for my partner.
We made it to our marital bed, and to be honest I was struggling from stopping myself from coming just at the sight of my wife in her white satin and lace bridal lingerie for the first time.