Evening In Italy

This story is fiction. However, it was written by Me and my wife as texts back and forth while she was actually on a trip, in Italy. Parts of the story are written from my perspective back home, these parts are noted with the 🗝 symbol. Then when the perspective changes to the my wife it is denoted with 💋 symbol. It was a fun and sexy way to communicate from afar. With time zones and completely different schedules, we would have to wait for the other person to read the continuing story. It made it sexy and exciting.

*****

Day,1 Morning USA, he texts to her. 🗝--"How is the trip going? I hope your flights went ok. Hope you and Ms. Ashland are getting along well. It is very nice of you to help chaperoning the class trip. She should at least be nice to you since you are spending one of our vacation weeks with her and the class instead of with me."

"On another note, I have been thinking about you in Italy. Alone, out and sightseeing. The kids off on one of the tours. You decide to go into a bar for a little wine and a place to relax, see what the locals are doing. Sitting with a glass of wine and noticing you have found an actual local restaurant. There are not any tourists in with you, just a couple of other groups of Italians drinking and chatting."

"You also notice that you have gotten the attention of an Italian man sitting at the bar. He keeps looking over at you trying to make eye contact. You decide it's ok if you flirt a bit, you know I won't mind. You smirk knowing it would probably turn me on knowing you are being sexy. So, you turn slightly in his direction, making eye contact as you sip your wine..."

Day 1, late Afternoon Italy, she texts back to him. 💋-- "My breath hitches as I realize the intensity of his gaze, his eyes so silver they appear to be frost itself. I hold eye contact for one beat, then two before slowly looking away. I bring my glass back up, slowly parting my lips and let the glass hover before I let it touch part my lips wider. I take a languid leisurely sip before setting my glass back down."

"The air feels heavy and charged like before a thunderstorm as I feel the weight of his attention. Out of the corner of my eye I see the bartender approach him. I use his momentary distraction to check him out more thoroughly. He is wearing dark suit pants and a crisp white shirt that is slightly unbuttoned. Ink black hair cut trim on the sides and a little longer on top adds to the professional look, but also betrays a bit of roguishness. His pants fit snuggly, and I can see that his legs are muscular -- a feature that never fails to turn me on. As my gaze travels up his thighs, I also notice how his pants are cupping a sizeable bulge in front."

"He finishes with his order and turns to find me checking him out. I boldly hold his eye contact letting him see that I am unapologetic in my perusal and give him a small sassy smirk before looking away."

"Knowing I have him on the hook, I create a distraction for myself by calling the bartender over for a refill. As I flirt and chat with the barman, I cross my leg allowing my dress to fall away slightly, revealing an expanse of my thigh to him. I wonder if he will continue his perusal or if he will be sufficiently motivated to approach me."

"I am not too concerned that I am escalating the flirtation, in a setting like this it is easy to end things just as quickly as it started. But my adrenaline has me wanting to continue, just for fun."

Day 1, late evening USA, he texts her before going to bed. 🗝-- I can see it all. As the bartender flirts with you and clears away your first glass you glance up to offer a smile to your admirer, however he is gone. You finish up your second glass of wine and realize that you need to go if you want to stop at the intimates shop you had seen on the way from the hotel. They had a couple of cute items in the window, and you thought you would stop in and see if the offerings were different than the lingerie shops in the US.

As you leave the bar you remember you can take a short cut to the shop through an alley and down a side street. This will be a lot quicker than going out past all the shops and people on the main avenue. As you walk down the side street you can feel the flush from the wine on your cheeks, and you smile enjoying the heat the stranger has caused in your body. Wondering what I would think If I knew you flirted so openly. You realize it is unlike you to check out a man so viscerally. Noticing his thighs, his shoulders and yes, the obvious bulge. You chuckle thinking you may have helped with the latter and I would never know about it.

As you continue walking and daydreaming, all of the sudden you feel a presence next to you. He is there, his hand is grazing your lower back. His brown eyes are sparkling, his lips smiling. "Squisita signora, you have an amazing smile. Why did you leave in the middle of our danza? I was so enjoying your eyes and cream of your skin is something missing in Italy."

Day 2, morning in Italy, she texts him so he will have it when he gets out of bed. 💋-- I am at a momentary loss for words, so unlike me. He can see the shock and surprise in my face as I fail to school my features. At the same time my heart is racing. It should be from fear that this stranger followed me, but fear wouldn't be coupled with this warmth I feel spreading all over my body.

I try to regain some composure, willing my pulse to calm down. I manage to rapidly spit out, "I had a small errand, to see a shop before it closed."

"May I escort you there? These alleys can be dangerous if you are not careful which ones you go down."

I nod in agreement. Giving him the address, we proceed, telling me he knows where this is at. As we walk along in silence, my mind is a whir wondering if he knows the store by the address, or if he suspects. Clearly, he is from here, perhaps he shopped there for a lover of his. Thoughts of trying items on for him has my cheeks and neck heating up again. I am sure that the blush on my face is noticeable. On que, he asks, "Senora are you well?"

"I think it must be a reaction to the wine," I pause looking at him, "and perhaps it is also your company." I say as I gave him a small smile. I can feel the tension in my body stretch out towards my fingers and down my legs, every nerve feels like it is on fire. Am I nervous that the situation is maybe out of my control, or perhaps excited? I still haven't done anything dramatically wrong, yet, would it hurt anything if I continue letting this "danza" unfold?

Day 2, Morning in USA, he texts after reading her text sent while he slept. 🗝-- As you walk down the winding alleys now being guided to the store you find yourself leaning into his arm? Holding his arm? You are not sure, but it is a pleasant feeling spread through your body. He chats to you pointing out small details of the old city a foreigner would never notice.

Your heart is finally starting to slow when you arrive at the store, but this causes another jolt of heat to pass through you. He opens the door and you both enter. The shop owner looks over and says something in Italian that you miss, your guide, what is his name you wonder suddenly, answers in Italian. It is then that you realize she figures you must be a couple. You decide not to answer and give away your English. Thoughts of your real-life flitter into your conscious, then float away. You are so far from home and the ocean surely will rinse all sins.

You begin to look around at all the beautiful intimates that the shop has on display. Your friend?, acquaintance?, soon to be lover? proceeds to begin looking through a small rack of some kind and you do the same. You are admiring a satin slip with fine lace edging when you again feel a strong hand on your back, this time lower, just where the curve of your butt begins, fingers gently pushing you toward a small sitting area in the back of the store. You realize that there are changing rooms there. In his other hand you can see he has something white. You allow him to guide you back to the changing area. He leads you to a curtained off room and hands you the items.

"You will be most beautiful in these," he says as he takes a seat in the chair. You draw the curtain to block his view of your changing. It is then that you glance down at the article he has chosen for you. A very small white panty, well a thong at best. The beautiful lace of the triangle that is meant to cover you is so delicate and fine. You know the small amount of hair on your mons will peak out over the top. The brassiere is also white. It takes you a moment to realize how the straps work. Enough straps to cause your breasts to perk out. Your nipples, which you realize have been hard since the bar, are only slightly covered by lace that matches the panties. Your breasts swell out the top in quite seductive manner, knowing this is one of the looks I love.

You are captivated by the mirror, and quite flushed realizing it is not me sitting on the other side of the curtain. Also realizing how much you want to show your new friend...

Day 2, Evening in Italy, she sends this text before going to bed. 💋-- Do I dare do this? We are still in a relatively public place and not much can really happen. I imagine you are there with us, watching the scene, watching me. I steel myself with a deep breath and slowly open the curtain. My friend is looking at his phone and doesn't yet realize I have come out. As I focus on him, in what I hope is a seductive pose, he finally looks up. I can see the desire in his reaction to my ensemble. He takes his time looking his fill. Then he rises and crosses over to where I am standing. Our eyes lock together as he trails a hand slowly up over my hip and settling it on my waist. I can feel the heat in his grip. My nipples harden even more as I feel his possession of my body.

I take a deep breath in and out, trying and probably failing to allow my rational brain to have a moment here to think. You are there in my subconsciousness, and yet I am here in the present. My hands tentatively float up his arms, my fingertips lightly tracing the muscles that lie beneath his shirt.

Day 2, Evening in USA, he texts so she will have it when she wakes in the morning. 🗝-- You know that the grip from his strong fingers is signaling to your body, signaling to begin preparing for an inevitable release. A release that will come from a joining dance that you know so well. A dance you have performed with me so many times.

He is standing at an angle to you and the firm grip pulls your side to his muscular body. You feel his firm chest on your shoulder, a muscular thigh pressing into your butt and that ever faint but growing swelling twitch igniting your hip that can only be coming from one thing. You know at that moment that you are causing this man, this large, beautiful being, to start giving into his animal.

In your ear, through your wisps of hair you feel his hot words "madame, state causando calore nel mio corp. Ho bisogno di trsmetterti questo calore molto presto!". You are not sure what he said, but the meaning is clear: hot. Your body translates it for you with a slight tremor and swelling of its own. Your breath is now shallow, and you can feel your knees beginning to soften and your blood beginning to concentrate to help your body prepare for an accommodation that you have all but given into. Somewhere thoughts of me are present, calculations are being made. But nature is also at play and desire is strong.

His tongue traces your ear, his hand traces your opening. You realize that you will now have to purchase the panties, they are in no condition to leave. An odd thought of whether you will wear them for me comes and is gone.

With a nip of your ear, he says "leave them on, put your dress over them. I will pay and we must go or else, I fear, I will take you here and now and the shop keeper will protest."

Day 3, Morning in Italy, she texts before going out for the day. 💋-- I quickly throw my dress back on and shove my original bra and panty into my purse. He has gone up to a small counter to pay for my purchases. I try to avoid making eye contact with the shopkeeper, the fewer people who can read my thoughts the better. She doesn't seem to mind, smiling and chatting away with my friend. She tells him "Cattivo, Cattivo" which I think means that we should have a good evening. But in his impatience, he is already turning away from her, striding towards me. He grabs hold of my hand, pulling me to him, as we leave the shop.

Back out in the street, I feel more in control of myself than I did in the small changing area. I attempt to resume a conversation, "Now that you've seen me mostly naked, perhaps I should know your name, no?"

He gives me a smirk and says, "In time senora. Perhaps now we should have a little bite to eat to keep our strength up for later."

This man will be the death of me! So, infuriating and so enticing all at the same time. What am I going to do about "later"? I can feel moisture gathering between my thighs, the neediness building inside me. I won't be able to hold out for too much longer. Should I end this now? Make up some excuse to go away, back to my hotel, alone? Or should I just bite the bullet and take a leap -- hoping you will understand that I was caught up in my desires? My thoughts whirl around in an eddy as we arrive at a family trattoria tucked into a small side street.

The restaurant is intimate and inviting. They seem to know him here, and he confidently guides me to a table towards the back in a beautiful alcove painted with frescoes and adorned with hanging plants. The waiter pulls my chair out and I sit down as my friend takes the seat next to me. The waiter removes the two extra chairs and leaves us to our private retreat. I look at the grouping of votive candles on the table before gazing up at those silver gray eyes flickering in the candlelight.

Day 3, Texts back after receiving her text when he wakes. 🗝-- The look in his eyes, the way he commands your thigh you know, he knows he has you. He orders some small plates not bothering to ask what you would like. But this doesn't bother you. He is being the 'il padrone' as all real men in this country are. With his broken English and his hands, he continues to ready you for a night you will not forget soon. He feeds you and strokes your back and thigh, the conversation is easy, and your defenses have left your body. Thoughts of me are becoming fainter. Your hands are resting? No exploring his thigh. Like an explorer of old, you smile when you find your treasure, nervous to touch it, but drawn to it also.

When dinner has finished, he speaks swiftly to the waiter in Italian. He looks directly at you telling, not asking, that it is time to go. He stands and you follow, not consciously, it is as if your body has taken control. As you pass the waiter you notice a faint smile on his lips as he wishes you both well. He seems to know it will be well.

As you proceed you realize how much you fight when I try to control you. Now you realize also how much you enjoy being controlled. In this situation there will be no consequence for being conquered. Or will there?

On the street he takes your arm leading you. He says it is not far, the weather is pleasant, spring is coming, and flowers are starting to open. There is a faint aroma in the air, it stirs you, is it flowers? Suddenly your mind starts, you realize the aroma is him, your nostrils flare as you draw upon this, as it flows into your nose down towards your chest, it continues with an energy directly to the spot that makes you a woman, caressing and enflaming that flower. You don't seem to be able to get enough of this ancient intoxicant, you lean closer to take another breath. As your mouth parts to draw in the elixir it is suddenly met with a barrier of strong, moist lips. He must have noticed you leaning in and took this as an invitation. It is a short but intense kiss, ending with a small bite of your lip. You realize he was tasting you, testing if his potion of man and strength was ripening you.

You find in your dreamy state he has stopped and is unlocking a gate. He lets you through to what appears to be a small foyer for an apartment building. He continues to lead you to a staircase, mentioning and motioning that his flat is at the top of the stairs. By this time, you realize your fight with guilt? desire? or just lust is lost. You will give this man your treasure and deal with the consequences later if they develop.

Day 3, She texts when she is back in her room in the evening. 💋-- I follow behind him up the stairs. But I decide that we need to level the playing field slightly, showing him that I am an active participant in this dance. I pull back against him on one of the landings, drawing him in as I kiss him passionately. I moan as he takes my mouth, swiping his tongue across my lips and deep into my mouth.

I continue to pull him closer until his body is flush with mine. I can feel the hardness of his chest, arm and thigh muscles, and his cock seems to have lengthened as it grows in his pants. My neediness is to the point that I flex my hips into him, feeling contact where I desire it most. He makes a low rumbly noise as I do this, gripping my head and pulling it back so he can continue to ravish my lips and neck. He finally pulls back slightly looking at me with dark desires. He swipes his thumb over my lips, now swollen from our kissing, as I close my eyes to savor the sensation of it. But he has other ideas. "Open your eyes," he orders. "I want to see your reaction as I own your pleasure."

I open them, a shiver running through me as I look deeply into his eyes. We continue up as he pulls me along again. He seems impatient to get me in front of him, or perhaps underneath him?

Day 3, He texts back in the evening after he returns home from work. 🗝-- As you reach the top of the stairs your patience has finally run out. He drops your hand as he rummages in his pocket for the keys. You take this time to stumble back against the opposite door. You reach down and grab the hem of your dress, pulling it well up above your navel. One word pleads from your lips as you lean against the wall presenting the panties he has bought for you "Senior", and as he turns you demand "NOW!". The ancient memory of a stairwell from your past rushes through your mind before a deep force takes over from within you.

He turns to see your muscular thighs, well-toned from all the hours of dancing, pressing forward from the wall, angled out to present the prize he has sought all afternoon. The small lace panties barely able to contain your sex. The slight amount of hair peeking out and your outer labia swollen to the extreme, seemingly trying to devour them. He drops the keys turning to you and starts to say "But..." You cut him off with another growl, more demanding, more wanting, more urgent. The word "NOW" deep and gravel again emits from your mouth.

Understanding the desire, one of his hands reaches for your waist, while the other deftly undoes his belt and fly. He is pulling you forward, but you resist, wanting to see the object of your desire. His hand is reaching into his briefs and slowly pulls out the object. Your breath, which has become short and shallow, catches at the sight and a "ugh" emits from your lips. The first thing you notice is the flare of the tip, it is quite impressive, with the glistening of his desire setting it off in your mind. Second is the sheer mass of the object, not merely the length, but its overall appearance of strength and power. This is something you cannot get from me, and your body must have it. Must contain it if possible.

At this point your body has taken charge, opening, and demanding. The hand on your waist tears the panties, leaving them to drop down one of your legs. Then with one hand on your ass and one guiding his mass he pulls you on. You lift one leg and stretch up on the other toes to give access. He requires no guidance from you, he places it and then it is there, and then in....