Lunch that day was memorable for the setting. We traveled to one of the many local Tuscan hilltop villages, and under the shade of a grape arbor, indulged our tastes in local food and wine. The sun beat down on the surrounding hillsides, flooding the panoramic view with a brilliance that almost hurt the eyes. The table banter was light and amusing, the two girls teasing each other, and the adults gently goading them along. A soft breeze kept us cool enough under the umbrella of vine leaves not to want to retreat inside in search relief from the heat of the early afternoon sun.
Andrew sat at the head of the table, Lori-Anne next to him, with the rest of us spread out either side. Helen, my wife, sat next to me. Our hunger sated, we lounged around the table, sipping at the remaining wine, idle chatter filling the air. Penny sat sandwiched between her grandchildren, refereeing their teasing. I looked at Helen. Our eyes met, and we smiled at each other. She slipped her hand in mine, and gave it a squeeze.
"Idyllic." she said.
I smiled again, and nodded agreement. It was indeed a perfect afternoon.
The restaurant owner arrived with a platter of cheese and bottle of brandy, soon followed by espresso and a large bowl of local fruit. We continued to indulge until the sun began its descent behind the hills. Relaxed and happy, our little band finally packed up, and filling the two cars we had arrived in, headed back to the farmhouse.
Later that evening we gathered out on the patio at the farm house, watching the girls splash around in the pool. The flagstones radiated their stored heat from their exposure to the daytime sun, and the breeze kept the air in motion, creating an ideal ambiance. Penny headed up for an early night, and not soon after Lori-Anne rounded up the kids for a shower and bedtime. Andrew remained and we chatted about the day for awhile, before he too headed off to bed, leaving Helen and me alone.
We sat there for awhile, savoring the remains of the evening. I had not felt to utterly content for a long time, and shared that thought with her. She smiled and nodded.
"Time to hit the hay," she said "before I nod off."
No dispute! I rose and stretched. Helen leading, we made our way inside, closing the door and shutting out the night. Upstairs all was quiet, a faint snoring coming from Andrew and Lori-Anne's room as we passed.
Our room at the end of the hallway was directly under the roof, but the heat of the day was disbursed by the cross current of cool night air from the bedroom window out through the bathroom window. I headed into the bathroom, shucking off my shirt and shorts as I went, and tossing my briefs into the hamper by the bathroom door. Relieving my bladder into the toilet, I could hear Helen moving about as she turned the bed down and disrobed. I finished peeing with a final small shake, washed my hands in the basin then loaded my toothbrush and cleaned my teeth.
Helen joined me. Lifting her nightgown she sat on the toilet and relieved herself. I glanced down at her and crinkled my nose at her familiarity as I brushed. She grinned back at me. It had been a perfect day.
Reaching for the toilet paper, she wiped herself dry and flushed the toilet as she rose, letting her nightie fall back in place. Rinsing my mouth, I spat out and made way for Helen to clean her teeth while I patted my mouth dry on the hand towel. I put the lid of the toilet down and sat on it, the cool plastic sending a small jolt through me as it met my bare bum. I sat there, one leg crossed over the other, enjoying the sight of my wife as she brushed her teeth. Helen and I have been married for over 30 years, and although the fire of initial passion had long died out, we are very much a 'couple', very comfortable with each other. In her mid 50s, Helen works at keeping fit. A crop of short brown hair frames her face. A somewhat angular nose is softened by deep set, doe brown eyes, and a smallish mouth that is quick to grin.
That evening, as she worked away at her teeth, I sat there and watched. We didn't indulge in much sex these days. In fact, I couldn't exactly remember the last time we'd fucked. But watching Helen as she scrubbed her teeth, I could feel something stirring inside me.
Not tall or statuesque, Helen is nevertheless well proportioned. Shapely legs supporting a compact frame, she has a trim bust, and a nicely rounded tummy. All of this was currently contained within her nightie, a thin, pale yellow cotton affair that just met her knees, was sleeveless and supported by two spaghetti straps over her shoulders.
As she rinsed her mouth, I reached out and placed my hand on her buttock. Her body heat radiated against my palm. I left my hand there, and she glanced at me as she spat into the sink. Running both faucets, she leaned forward and splashed water in her face, rinsing off the days film of perspiration. Her nightie fell forward. Sleeveless, I stared at her small exposed breast, hanging there, pert and pointed.
Reaching out, I grabbed a towel and passed it to her. As the straightened and rubbed her face dry, I stroked her buttock through the thin material, easing the tips of my fingers into her cleft a little.
Dropping the towel, she looked at me and said "You're feeling frisky."
I shrugged, smiled and followed her into the bedroom.
Too warm for bedclothes, Helen stripped them off and lay down. I hit the lights and joined her on the bed, stretching out beside her. The full moon illuminated the interior of the room, casting deep shadows in the corners, washing our bed in a pale, eerie glow. We gave each other a good night peck, and settled down to sleep. Except I couldn't. Helen turned onto her side, away from me, and I lay there on my back, mulling the days events. Apart from the perfectly delightful afternoon at lunch and evening on the patio, my experience with Penny had given me lots to think about. Recalling the events before lunch, I felt my loins stir. But pleasurable fatigue overcame me, and I drifted.
I don't know how long I'd been asleep, but I awoke with a small start. I was still on my back, but Helen had shifted, and although still facing away from me, one ankle was resting against mine. The night air was still very warm, and whatever breeze there had been had died. I shifted slightly away from Helen to give us space, and turned towards her. I silently watched her, laying there in the moonlight, breathing regularly in her sleep. One arm was cradled under her pillow, the other flung forward. Her top leg was drawn up toward her chest, the other stretched out towards the end of the bed. Her nightie had ridden up almost to her waist, baring her bottom. I studied it. She has wonderful round, firm buttocks, and in the moonlight they appeared to have the texture of alabaster. I had an overwhelming urge to smother them with kisses, but I didn't want to disturb her. Instead, I quietly heaved myself up on one elbow, and reversing my position on the bed, positioned myself directly in front of her cheeks, between which nestled her vulva. The moonlight afforded me a sweet view of her, and I was a little surprised to see her crotch bereft of any pubic hair. 'That's interesting.' I thought, my loins stirring a little. Helen was not in the popular habit of sporting naked genitals. Leaning a little closer, I could detect no trace of hair. The aroma of her sex invaded my nose, and I breathed in deeply. I loved her smell. Come to that, I loved her taste and feel. In fact, I loved her! Careful not to disturb her, I leaned as close as I dared over her cunt and inhaled deeply. Mmm. Heavenly.
She stirred slightly, stretching her lower leg out and, exposing her crotch further. I watched intently, observing the folds of her labia extend a little. Did I detect a slight moistness? My cock twitched. I realized I was starting to get really turned on. I so wanted to touch Helen, but in my now aroused state was fearful of rejection. I didn't want to be rejected. I wanted to fuck.
Taking a leaf out of Penny's book, I very gently breathed on Helen 's cunt. She didn't stir. Emboldened, I blew softly and was rewarded by a further stirring and widening of her crotch. Yes. I could see a hint of moistness along her crack. I blew more boldly, widening the circle of my attention, up the cleft of her buttocks, across her pussy and down the inside of her thigh. My own arousal was now complete, my prick stretched out between us on the mattress. I reached down and massaged the end of my knob. It sure felt good, and notched up my arousal a few more degrees.
Propped up on my elbow, looking down at Helen, I took the bull by the horns, and releasing my knob, trailed my fingers gently across the inside of her exposed thigh. Her skin was so soft. She stirred again, pulling the pillow further under he head, and drawing her top leg further up towards her chest. Cunt fully exposed, I could see it was clean and naked of hair as a newborn babe. I felt a surge of pre-cum course inside my prick.
I was beginning to get pins and needles in the elbow I was resting on, but didn't really dare to change my position at this delicate juncture. Continuing to stroke the inside of her thigh with my fingertips, I leaned down and exchanged my fingers for lips, brushing my mouth against the warm velvet of her inner thigh. She gave a small moan, but didn't wake.
Using my freed hand, I ran my fingertips across the soft folds of her labia, all the while maintaining my small kisses against the inside of her thigh. She made a small movement against my fingertips. Encouraged, I eased one finger between the folds of her lips, and was again rewarded, this time by the discovery of a very sticky and hot interior. I applied gentle but firm pressure with my inserted finger to open her cunt wider, and slipped another finger just inside. Helen exhaled an audible sigh, and pressed further against my hand. She smelled delicious. Nibbling at her thigh, I slowly began to finger fuck her. I so wanted to bury my face in her crack, but was determined to take things slowly and strive to satisfy her.
Sliding my fingers, I created a slow rhythm, pushing them deeper into her vagina each time. I was very aware that the quality of her vaginal emissions had changed from an initial dampness to a free flowing slick of juice. Her scent was almost overpowering, and made my mouth water.
She began to react to my fingers, and rolling onto her tummy, spread her thighs and raised herself slightly onto her knees. This presented a completely different picture to me, and I had to twist myself into a partial squatting position to avoid my fingers slipping out from her pussy. Changing position again, I managed to end up kneeling directly behind her, between her thighs. An ideal penetration position, and indeed my cock was drooling freely and straining for solace. But all in good time. Well balanced now, my other hand was free to roam as my fingers maintained their gentle thrusting in her hot, sick slot. Reaching out with my free hand, I placed it on her buttock and slid it sideways into her cleft. Rubbing my hand sideways between her buttocks, I could feel the hard nub of her bumhole. I knew she liked it teased, so I concentrated on using the side of my hand against her anus, slowly massaging it.
