Tuscan Twilight Ch. 05

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Chapter 5: Winging Away

Ohhh, Rosella was right about Giovanni. He has a strong and long-lasting cock. I am thinking of how good this feels, how wonderful it is to be in control and to have a man doing my bidding for a change—being of some use to me without taking all of the time—as I rock back and forth on Giovanni’s rock-hard member on the pavilion divan.

I was just toying with him at first, when I took him into the garden of the Villa Montebella to paint my portrait when the old man was too indisposed for his own sitting with the portraitist this morning. I meant to seduce him and then to rebuff him as soon as he was really hot and bothered. I am mad at grandfather, the Conte; I am mad at all of the controlling, philandering Ghiberti men. Well, maybe all except for Vincenti, off doing his business in Rome. My older brother has promised that I can go to Rome too when I no longer am of use to grandfather and have an allowance to do whatever I want to do. I want to ride long plump cocks like this one of Giovanni’s and to have handsome men and beautiful women sucking at my clit. But when will that be? The old man just lives on forever, controlling all of our lives, treating me the same way Ghiberti men were treating their women in Tuscany two hundred years ago—like possessions.

I lean my head down from where I am astride Giovanni’s hips, pumping up and down and back and forth on him, and he gazes adoringly at me with those wounded fawn eyes of his and opens his lips to receive a kiss, but I swoop lower and attach my teeth to one of his taut nipples.

“Ayieee,” he exclaims in surprise and pain. But although he flinches, he doesn’t try to withdraw from me.

“Does that hurt, dear Giovanni?” I ask mockingly, as I let loose and turn my eyes up to his. His eyes show his pain, but more than that, they show his love and devotion to me. I wonder what it will take to turn him into yet another Tuscan man pig. Surely if I give any sign of relinquishing control to him, he will become yet another Tuscan man. “If you don’t like this, I can leave you now, Giovanni.”

“No, no, please, Gabriella. This is heaven. You are like velvet inside, so sweet and tight.”

So unlike my grandfather I think. And then, when I think of the American stranger and my grandfather together last night with all of the shackles the old Conte imposes on me, I have a flash of anger and descend on Giovanni’s other nipple. I draw blood this time, but he makes no sound. There’s just an increase in his heavy breathing beyond akkent escort the exertion he’d been showing by moving his throbbing cock inside me. He makes me very wet, and that tonguing he gave my lips and clit below was heavenly.

Giovanni has potential. When I tried to emasculate him for letting my grandfather’s threats override his burning desire for me despite my seduction here in the pavilion, he flared and became inventive, showing me that I mattered more to him than Tuscan tradition and power. He took his sable-haired brush and a box of melted chocolates and painted my breasts and belly and cunt—and then he followed the chocolate with his tongue and lips. Very enjoyable. He’d given me two orgasms already, when most Tuscan men would not have bothered whether I’d had even one as long as their dicks spouted and were satisfied.

Yes, perhaps a good man, Giovanni. I dip down to him again and feel him tense under me, not knowing where I will attack next. But I have mercy, at least at first, and this time apply my lips to his. We kiss deeply. But slowly I sense him asserting himself, struggling for control. I bite his lip to show him he’s gone too far—this tryst is all about me asserting control over my life in a dismal situation. He pulls away and yelps, but when I come to him with my lips again, he willingly opens to me and lets me dictate the kiss, having learned what I will tolerate.

I sit back up in the saddle and pump him hard. He will cum shortly. But I want my third orgasm before he does. I reach back with one of my hands and find his balls. I bunch them together with my fist and twist. His eyes bug out and his mouth forms a silent scream. He knows not to do more than that, however. He may be trainable. The only trainable Tuscan man.

I see concern registered in his eyes, but it’s not for anything I am doing to him. He tells me he thinks he hears someone coming down the path toward the pavilion. It might be my grandfather, the Conte.

I don’t care, however. Let the old man find us thus. Maybe that’s what is needed for him to release me and to let me have a life of my own in Rome.

Giovanni’s face takes on a surprised look now, and he’s looking intently beyond my shoulder. I feel a hard-muscled naked body saddling up behind me, obviously a man from what I feel pushing up my spine. A hugely endowed man. Arms come around my chest, and hands are cupping my breasts and squeezing hard. I cannot help but cry out.

I turn my head. It’s akkent escort bayan the well-built blond American stranger who fucked my grandfather in his chamber all night long last night, so much so that the old man was unable to appear this morning. The American had gone to the fields with my younger brother, Paulo, this morning and no doubt had just returned from fucking him in the grape arbors as well. I saw the lust in Paulo’s eyes for this man. I suppose he now thinks it’s my turn.

A hand comes up, and he grabs me by the chin and holds my face turned toward him. His thick, sensuous lips attack mine. He pushes my lips apart and fills my mouth with his tongue. He is very good and very, very desirable. But he is a pig of a man, just like my grandfather and all his Tuscan breed. I bite him on the tongue. He pulls away from me and just laughs and then he kisses me brutally and bites my lip. My flow increases. My body wants this man. But I cannot give in now.

He pushes me down onto Giovanni, crushing my breasts against Giovanni’s chest. I wonder what he intends, until I feel his cheek against mine. He’s kissing Giovanni on the mouth, and Giovanni is responding to him. Giovanni’s hands come, first to cup, the flowing blond hair of the stranger as they kiss, and then behind my back to the American’s beating breast. Giovanni’s a pig too. I must escape Tuscany altogether.

The blond American’s hands come between my chest and Giovanni’s, and he’s rubbing my nipples against Giovanni’s, sending little electric shocks through my body. I can tell Giovanni is also affected, as his cock increases in length inside me. The American’s long, thick cock is pushing at me from behind. I gather my strength and push up hard, pulling the American’s mouth away from Giovanni’s and regaining position in the saddle. It angers me that Giovanni’s cock has gained more strength. I know he’s gained it from the American, not from me.

The American is squeezing my breasts hard again, and roughly rubbing his thumbs on my nipples. He has his lips and teeth in the hollow of my neck and is giving me a hard sucking kiss there.

I hear the bell start. The bell in the villa’s tower is ringing. My heart soars and takes wings, wings that will take me away from Tuscany forever. I look down at Giovanni and see that he understands what the ringing of the bell means as well, and he has a contented look on his face, his fear of reprisal subsiding. His cock becomes more active; he is pushing escort akkent up with it when I push down on it. He is on the edge of wresting control whenever it seems possible. So, Giovanni is a Tuscan man underneath it all as well. I will not leave him with regret.

The American doesn’t seem to be noticing. He’s still kneading my breasts, feeding at my neck, and rubbing his hard cock up and down the small of my back.

I start to relax now. The fighting is over. I’ve won.

The American senses the change and assumes that he has seduced me with his undeniably ample charms, that I’m now ripe for the picking. He’s so cocky. He’s used to fucking anyone he wants to fuck.

But at least he recognizes the fight that I’ve put up and gives that some sort of grudging respect. His lips come up to my ear, and he speaks to me in a whisper.

“Permission to enter, Signorina Gabriella? You will enjoy me, as I’m sure I will enjoy you.” I examine his tone, gauging whether he’s mocking me, but I don’t think he is. I think he’s saluting me, giving me a status in a relationship between and man and a woman that the old male guard of Tuscany will not give.

“Yes, why not?” I respond in a low, throaty voice.

He kisses me deeply again, this time in gratitude. And I let him think he’s won. He takes his hands from my breast and places them on my shoulder blades and presses me once again into Giovanni’s chest. But this time he does so slowly and gently, and I respond in feigned submission. I feel his bulbous cock head at my puckering rear entry, and then he’s in me, slowly pushing his way in to the hilt. I have two men in me now, Giovanni in my cunt and the blond American, Dakota, in my ass. Giovanni’s cock is big, but the American’s is longer and thicker. We begin fucking again, the three of us, and this time I do so joyously.

Dakota may have fucked the Ghiberti men in residence, first my grandfather, the Conte, and then my young, impressionable brother, Paulo, but he is fucking me last. He saved me for last—and he sought my permission before he entered me. I can tell that he’s loving me, that he’s lost in my charms and my own abilities. And he thinks he has won me over and that I’m giving him such a good fuck because I have given myself to him. But that’s not true. I’ve maintained control. I am celebrating my liberation. Now my grandfather will never have him again.

The tolling of the bell has continued, and Dakota finally has the presence of mind to ask me what it signifies.

“The bell only rings at the passing of an era in the Ghiberti family, I answer triumphantly. The Conte is dead. My older brother, Vincenti is now the Conte.”

I feel a tremble and a sense of sadness go through the American’s body, and I respect him for this. But as for me. This has given me wings to fly from Tuscany and into the world.

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