A Night in Florence

I saw her for the first time at the Piazza Della Signoria, just by the statue of David that we were both staring at with rapt admiration .



For a moment I felt the heat of her eyes, and had no choice but to flicker mine away from David's stony perfection to meet their gaze, then, both of us embarrassed at what we must have recognised in the other's look, pulled them away to go back to looking at his wonderful member, almost as if to say that we were neither of us that sort of girl.






Back in my hotel I could not stop thinking of her, her heavy eye lids and olive tinged skin knowing that I would never be likely to see her ever again, and that maybe that would be for the best.





But I did. In an evening alleyway as the light faded and I was wondering what I could do with myself that could possibly live up to the beauty of this Florentine evening, there she was!

"You will drink with me? " She asked, her English heavy with overtones of fashion houses and magnificent fast cars with foreign names.

And so we did, sharing wine and shameful secrets as we quietly tangled ourselves together in a cats cradle of intimacies and erotic confessions, so when the moment came to leave, where else were we to go but to my hotel.




We were kissing almost before we knew it , but what else were we here to do, nervous at first, and I wondered maybe this was her first time as well as mine though I did not ask,




and when I found myself impaled against the wall, my body and hers locked together with mutual need, it was as if I had been making Sapphic love with such girls as her all of my life.




Her nakedness was a strange and beautiful thing to me, and it seemed that mine was to her as well, and as we kissed and explored and delved into other I knew that for this night at least, this was precisely what I desired and wanted, and that everything else was for naught.




But as we writhed and fondled, I could not forget a fundamental truth. At home I had a man, a man in his own way as beautiful as her, and that when I was back there with him again I would not demean him and everything that he and I shared by hiding the events of this night from him.





I would tell him what I had done in exact detail and then submit to his burning redress knowing that as he scourged my flesh it would bring alive the memory of this night, punishment and pain and this wicked pleasure all blended together into one glorious whole.




And I would tell him exactly what this woman was like so that he desired her in the way that I did and he would engorge with need for her,




and so for a while at least, each time he fucked me he would be fucking her too, and that way I would be able to have her in my bed again and again, prolonging the memory of that night.