Monthly Archives: June 2010

The Tuscan villa

The weather is beautifully hot today. Blue skies with just a hint of white and my skin feels warm to the touch. As I sit outside in the grass and feel the gentle breeze in my hair, I close my eyes and am back under the olive trees of that Tuscan villa.

It was a few summers ago when my affair with the gardener was in full swing. I flew into Tuscany late one Friday night after work. He was picking me up in his car. We hadn’t seen each other for about six weeks and my heart was racing as I stepped off the plane into the balmy night air. I was still dressed in my London work clothes – a black pencil skirt, white shirt and heels carrying my raincoat over my arm. As I walked down the steps from the airplane onto the tarmac I could see the lights twinkling from the surrounding hills and felt the day’s heat rising from the ground below. There is something magical about the Tuscan landscape. The air smells different, light, slightly scented. It carries you, lifts you.

I picked up my bag from the carousel and walked through the customs gate into the arrivals area. It is so rare to be met by someone at the airport. Usually I walk through the waiting crowd briskly, not making eye contact with anyone, secretly wishing that someone was there to meet me. There never is. But that night, I knew he would be in the crowd waiting just for me. I scanned the faces until I spotted him at the back, leaning against a pillar. He was still on his crutches, but looked so dashingly handsome in his trousers and tight t-shirt. So relaxed and tanned. He smiled as I walked towards him and pulled me into his embrace. He smelt of summer, of sun, of fresh air. I buried my nose in his curly hair and inhaled deeply. Such a world away from my air conditioned sterile office in a grey, cloudy London.

We walked to his car, chatting and laughing, both feeling the thrill of the weekend ahead. Despite his crutches he was able to drive and we whizzed through the Tuscan hills, winding our way up towards the villa where he worked and lived. After about a 30 minute drive with the windows open to the night air we arrived at a large cast iron gate and drove down a long path through a wooded area until we reached a clearing and the graveled driveway of the villa. It sat high up on a hill overlooking the valley below, the lights of Florence twinkling in the distance.  He lived in an outhouse in the gardens and parked in front of it. When the motor was silent all I could hear was the sound of insects. The villa was dark, the shutters closed. He led me into his house, offering me a cold glass of wine from the kitchen. Inside it was wonderfully cool. I kicked off my heels and took off my stockings enjoying the sensation of the cold terracotta floor on my bare feet. We stood in the kitchen looking at one another, our initial shyness wearing off and kissed passionately, holding our glasses of wine.

He had prepared a light supper and so we sat outside his house on the veranda with a candle, schiaccata bread, pecorino and salami, listening to the sounds of the night, chatting, laughing and drinking. I floated through those night time hours like one of the fireflies. When the sky began to change from a warm black to a cooler shade of blue, we went inside and climbed the stairs to his bedroom. He undressed me in silence and I watched as he tugged off his t-shirt revealing his incredible torso (one of the benefits of having an affair with a gardener). We lay naked on the bed, touching one another’s bodies, re-familiarising ourselves with the other. I licked his shoulders, chest and stomach, tasting the salt of his sweat. Then took him in my mouth and slowly moved my head to the rhythm of his guiding hands. His  breath quickened and I let him come sweetly into my mouth, savouring every drop. He pulled me round, so that my hips were in line with his face and parted my legs, letting him bury his nose and mouth in my heat. He nuzzled and licked, stroking my thighs and ass as he did so. I felt the shiver of my orgasm and moved quickly to sit astride him, craving his cock inside me. His knee injury prevented him from lying on top of me and so I reveled in being in control, angling my hips so that his cock would thrust deep inside me. I circled my hips and leant back on my hands, giving him full view of my cunt. He understood exactly what to do and began to massage my clit as I gyrated on his cock. The blood rushed to my head as I arched my back and gave myself to him. My body collapsed to a shuddering orgasm and I fell back on the bed trying to catch my breath. It was too hot for sheets and so we fell asleep naked, my head resting on his chest. It was the start of an unforgettable weekend in the Tuscan hills. What I would give to be there right now.

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London lover odyssey part 3 – older lover, new sensations

I’m on a roll today and so will continue with my odyssey. If nothing else, it gives me a chance to sit in the sun some more and indulge in some delicious memories of my older lover.

Day 3 of my trip and I had arranged to meet my older lover again that night. During the day I met some friends for lunch. They work with him, my older lover. And so, when after lunch they invited me into the office to say ‘hello’ to a few others I climbed the stairs to the first floor with butterflies in my stomach. What if I bumped into him? I knew I’d be seeing him later that day, but it was an unexpected excitement that gripped me. As I reached the top of the stairs and my friend walked me to his desk my heart skipped a beat. There he was, sitting opposite looking intently at his computer screen. I will never forget how incredible he looked. His silver hair silhouetted by the window behind him, his dark grey suit and, most sexy of all, he was wearing his new reading glasses – the trendy black-rimmed type. As I approached his desk he looked up and our eyes met. I could see him blush slightly and he smiled at me. My body was pumping with adrenalin and I felt slightly lightheaded. Trying to act normal, I said the usual ‘hello, long time no see’ in front of everyone else. I couldn’t stop looking at him. He was so sexy, I could have jumped over the desk and fucked him there and then. Naturally, that would have been a little tricky in an open plan office. And so as I said my goodbyes to everyone, I consoled myself with the thought that i would have him all to myself that evening.

It has become almost tradition that I prepare some sensually inspired nibbles and white wine for our rendezvous. And so he arrived at my flat that evening to my blini, smoked salmon and prawn special. We sat at the table and ate some food, drank a couple of glasses of wine, chatted and laughed. I told him what I had wanted to do to him that afternoon in the office. He smiled mischievously and I got up, walking to his side of the table and stood behind him, letting my hands feel his torso, his thighs and finally his crotch. He was erect and we moved swiftly to the bedroom.  I have never met anyone who is so gentle and sensual, yet at the same time consumes me entirely. We undressed each other and he took control, pushing me to the bed and parting my legs allowing his tongue to find my sex. As I sit here reminiscing and writing, I feel I could not live without him in my life. His touch makes me tremble, I crave him constantly, I am lost without him.

He licked my cunt, slowly, slowly, increasing the pressure and rhythm as my body arched with his movements. He kept me on edge for a long time, alternating between vertical and side to side motions with his tongue. When I could feel myself letting go, my head emptying of all thoughts and feeling ready to throw myself off the edge, he inhaled deeply and moved from vulva to clit in his mind-blowing unique fashion. I came again and again, not wanting to leave that moment until my body could take no more and each touch of his tongue seemed to touch my core, a rawness usually masked. We lay side by side for a moment, catching our breath and then he turned me over onto my knees and thrust his erect cock inside me.

I notice my breathing becomes shallow as I write and I long to feel him inside me again. Right now.

Our bodies moved in unison, his hands gripping my hips and I savoured every thrust, still enjoying the tingling sensation of my orgasms. He withdrew his cock and held it over my ass. I felt his warmth as he came over my back. I love that feeling when both are spent and you lie there together his arm cradling my head. We drank our cool white wine and chatted naked on the bed. Then an idea occurred to me. Ever since the tall guy had suggested a blindfold, I had been in the mood for a little bit of experimentation. And so I asked him if he had ever tried sex tied up and blindfolded. Apparently, even in his mid-forties he had not yet tried it. I grabbed one of my scarves and tied it tenderly around his eyes. He was reluctant to be tied up and so I ordered him to lie still, he was not allowed to use his hands. I wanted him to be completely focused on the physical sensations.

I started by touching and stroking his body, running my fingers gently over his arms, chest, legs. The lighter the touch, the better the feeling, especially when the limbs are hairy. It is the merest hint of touch that turns you on. And so he lay there, naked, blindfolded letting me stroke him. I could see his arousal immediately and watched as his cock became incredibly erect. Then I straddled his body taking his cock in my hand and stroking my wetness with it. Gently, touching his most sensitive part with my lips and allowing it to slip an inch inside me before withdrawing it again. I reached for the cold white wine and took some in my mouth, then kissed him letting the liquid trickle into his. He was in the moment. He had let himself go, abandoning his body to mine.

I told him to stay where he was and grabbed a selection of food left over from dinner. At first I took a prawn and slipped it into his mouth. I could see this took him by surprise and he was trying to figure out what it was through taste alone. While he ate I stroked his legs, drawing circles around his sex, never quite touching it. I could see he longed me to touch it. Then I fed him a blackberry and then a strawberry. At first he confused by the different flavours but smiled as I gave him some white wine to drink. I used the cold glass to touch his torso, making him shiver suddenly. Then I took him in my mouth, licking his shaft and toying with his tip. His body arched and I could tell he wanted to touch me with his hands, but I told him not to. I mounted him, allowing his dick to plunge deeply inside me and fucked him. When his breathing and sighs told me he was about to come I withdrew and took him in my mouth once again. He came, in short, sharp spurts. I swallowed and stroked his belly as the aftershocks of his orgasm gripped him. Finally I took off his blindfold and gave him his glass of wine to sip.

We sat on the sofa part-clothed talking for a long while. He had his legs on my knees and I stroked them. His legs are incredibly strong – a long distance runner’s legs. My fingers ran gently up the inside of his thigh and I could see his underwear straining as he became erect again. I love touching him. I began giving him a foot massage, pressing the arch of his foot and using my thumbs to circle my way across the soles of his feet. As I did this I bent forward and kissed his shins, ankles and took each toe in my mouth, gently sucking and nibbling them. He lay back and sighed, his cock getting harder with each toe. Finally he got up and took me to the bedroom where he threw me down and fucked me again.

It was a night of new sensations, for him and me. I will never forget it.

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London lover odyssey part 2 – the wedding gift

Life’s commitments have not permitted me the time nor space to document subsequent parts of my London lover odyssey. But today, as I sit outside in the morning sun, a cool wind lifting my hair and spirits I feel the need to write again.

I awoke on day 2 feeling that familiar ache in my legs and my cunt still tender from the hours spent with my older lover the night before. It was going to be another hot London day. I showered, reluctantly washing his scent off my body, dressed and headed into town to meet my original lover for lunch. We had not met for half a year or more, we haven’t slept together for even longer. Ever since he became a father, our lust for one another has faded. He still holds a very special place in my heart. We met near his office in the city, I saw him walking down the street towards me. I skipped towards him and we hugged, allowing the other suited workers to stream past us. Then we walked and talked, stopping at a little restaurant for a bite to eat (his treat) and wandered through the city at a slow pace. I had forgotten how well we get on and felt a little craving in my womb. The idea crossed my mind to book a hotel room, even if just for an hour. I’ve always wanted to do that. I love the decadence, the naughtiness of it.

After lunch, a stroll and an ice cream we parted, agreeing to meet later that afternoon at his office for a coffee. I roamed the streets of London floating in the summer’s breeze, feeling elated at the thought of my older lover’s tongue on my clit and the prospect of a new lover later that day. That afternoon I returned to his office. I think he wanted to show me his new place of work. We sat in his glass office and chatted over coffee again. I imagined what it might be like if his walls were not made of glass. The things I would like to have done to him then and there. The excitement and tenderness of our love affair was rekindled, ever so slightly. He had to go to a meeting and so I left him, both of us feeling the urge for more than just a hug and goodbye.

It was nearly time to meet the tall guy for our rendezvous and his wedding gift. He had flown into London especially. I walked to Soho and waited for him in a pub. He arrived from work wearing an expensive suit. Men in suits… call me old fashioned, but it just turns me on. We enjoyed a cold G&T together and moved on to a restaurant of his choosing. He had offered to buy me dinner – I assume to relieve his guilt of the sex that was to follow. Dinner was charming, a fancy underground affair. We ate and chatted. He told me about his wedding (it had taken place a mere month or so before). Perhaps we are two of a kind. He said he felt no guilt at breaking his vows so soon after making them.  And so after a drink at a seedy bar and numerous kisses across the table, we finally arrived at his hotel room. My wedding gift to him – me.

Having spent all day walking in sandals my feet were tired and aching, so I ran some cold water into the bath and sat on the edge, dipping my feet and washing them with soap. He came into the bathroom to bring me a drink and hugged me from behind, letting his hand stray inside my dress. I took his other hand and gave him the soap, then guided his hand down to my cunt, lifting my dress so that he could touch me with his soapy fingers. As he did so, I turned my head upwards and we kissed. He began to gently masturbate me and I could feel his cock through his trousers. I stood up in the water and he helped me step out of the bath and led me to the bed. Before I knew it, my dress and lingerie were off and I was lying naked before him. He stripped and lay next to me. We fondled each other’s bodies, savouring the new details. There is such a delight in discovering a new body. Every crevasse, crease and mole.

In our IM chats leading up to the meeting, he had talked about bringing a silk scarf, a blindfold. I had been excited by the prospect of a slow, sensual session. Yet, he had forgotten to bring it and as we fucked I began to remember why on the last occasion we had fucked it had not been an earth shattering experience. He entered me from behind and came rather quickly. The long drawn out build up I had hoped for did not occur. And after coming, try as he might, he couldn’t get a hard on again, despite numerous blow job attempts on my part. During one such blow job I suddenly realised he was trying to masturbate me at the same time, by rubbing his foot against my cunt – not, dare I say in a slow and sensual manner, but rather in a jerky and sporadic way that turned me off, rather than on. I decided to fake an orgasm in order to curtail the evening’s events. Then I dressed and left him to sleep, taking a cab home and feeling rather deflated. I had had high hopes for the night, he is an incredibly good kisser after all. But, it seems that some men just aren’t the right fit.

Perhaps that is a good thing, given he married someone else a month ago.

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London lover odyssey part 1 – Feeling alive

The sun shines gloriously above London this morning and promises a summer’s day, requiring a summer dress and sandals. I feel uplifted looking out at the blue skies, second cup of coffee giving me the edge I need to tackle day two of my London lover odyssey.

We arrived at the same time, I heard his scooter before I saw him. His eyes smiling through his helmet as we met. We found a secluded table in the pub, I did my usual check of the other guests, making sure there were no familiar faces in the crowd. He ordered the white wine. We raised our glasses, our eyes locking and smiles of anticipation playing on our lips.
To sit so close to the person I have spent so many hours fantasizing about, masturbating to and desiring since January, yet to show restraint, merely a brushing of hands an inhalation of his scent is the art of foreplay. We chatted, laughed and shared our lives of the past months, drinking wine and eating dinner. As the pub closed, we paid (he bought dinner) and walked slowly back to my small apartment.
Climbing the stairs quietly together I unlocked the front door and let him in. We stood there kissing furiously for a long time, our first actual physical indulgence of the night. I could feel that little part of my brain letting go and succumbing to the wave of desire washing over me. That is the flash when I am in the moment, my brain is focused on my senses, nothing else. That is when I begin to feel alive again.

He sat down on the sofa and I kneeled astride him, kissing his hair, forehead, eyes, cheeks and losing myself in his mouth. His hands explored the curves through my dress, he buried his nose in my cleavage and inhaled deeply. I could feel his hardness through his trousers. We moved to the bedroom. I undressed him, savouring each button and kissing my way down his chest to his jeans. He stood as I sat on the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and revealing his hard cock. His beautiful, hard cock. I took him in my mouth tasting and licking him, slowly, tracing the vein that runs underneath and then opened my mouth to draw him in.

I took off my dress and he pulled off my knickers, leaving just my silk slip. He lay down on the bed and I knelt above him. His hands stroked my back, my waist and hips, finding my wetness between my legs, playing with it, gliding his fingers inside and out.
I thrust his cock into me, needing to feel him again, the fullness.

But he had other ideas and pushed me to the bed, positioning his head above my cunt. The agony and ecstasy of knowing what is to come is intoxicating. He parted my lips with his and began teasing, flicking and licking my clit. As I became more aroused I dug my nails into his arm, signalling he was doing the right thing. He flattened his tongue and moved it directly over my clit, again and again with just the right amount of pressure to build the tension in my body. My head was hanging off the edge of the bed and I could feel the blood rushing to my brain. His tongue slide down my cunt to the rim of my vulva. He took a deep breath, never once removing his Tongue and started weaving his way up my cunt. Slowly, left to right and back again, moving closer and closer to my clit. This has to be the most incredible physical sensation I’ve had. I could feel the orgasm start and let the waves roll over me. He did not stop and continued to glide his tongue over my most sensitive spot, sending my body into convulsions as another climax gripped me. After I came three times in quick succession he turned me over onto my stomach, pulling my hips towards him and thrust his cock inside me from behind. I could still feel the contractions from my multiple orgasms and let him penetrate me deeply. His breathing quickened and as he began to climax, he withdrew rubbing his dick between my ass cheeks. I reached back and grabbed his cock, using my fingers to help him come.Hot jets spurted over my back and he collapsed on the bed next to me, breathing violently.

That was the start of our first night together. We fucked for a long time. I love the dull ache of my legs and groin this morning. It reminds me what it is to feel alive.

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