Italian Women's Erotic Sins, Volume I. Giovanna Esse. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Giovanna Esse
Издательство: Tektime S.r.l.s.
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Жанр произведения: Эротика, Секс
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9788885356054
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      They hadn't met in years and Nicòle’s mother enjoyed those moments of thoughtfulness. “If a fortune teller had predicted this to me, I swear I wouldn't have believed it... so far from home and finding ourselves here! I am so happy!”

      While Franca was lively, at times almost fierce, Flora was had a joyful character, but spoke little. She was one of those people who inspire security: a quiet smile accompanied each movement. Watching her make tea was relaxing, just like the whole environment that she had created around her.

      Nicòle immediately liked the figure of the mature and prosperous woman, with generous breasts that squeezed under the thin shirt that she wore at home.

      â€œNicòle, do you prefer hot chocolate?” asked Flora with her stroking voice which the girl couldn't resist.

      â€œOh, yes, please! Thank you, Mrs. Flora” she answered, as she looked around inspecting the house.

      â€œNo need for formalities, Nicòle: I ain't no married old lady like your mother!” she laughed, showing her small white teeth that looked like little pearls. Franca protested, but kindly.

      "Come Nicòle, I may have something for you. You should enjoy it more that our chit-chat". Flora made the way to the living area, where a large TV towered on a coffee table, full of DVD movies.

      "Here you should find something suitable to you; the daughter of my brother leaves around a lot of these disks, she is more or less your age. "

      "Wow!" She exclaimed ecstatic, leafing between the clamshells "but this is the last concert of my favorite singer. Please, please ...!" She preced in attempting the best doe-eyed interpretation ever carried out "Can I watch it?” Flora had to make an effort not to stand still and enjoy watching those beautiful languid eyes. Briskly, Flora replied:

      "Ah, my dear, as far as I am concerned you can even marry it, I never watch such modern stuff."

      "Nicòle! Be aware that we will go home shortly!" Screamed Franca in the direction of the living room, where her daughter had already taken possession of the remote control. With the typical craftsmanship of the young, she had already performed all maneuvers to start the movie on the big flat screen.

      "We have to return home soon." Franca told Flora, "You know dear, I couldn’t wait to see you, but we just got here ... Picture that at home I still have the workers assembling the furniture, and Monday we have to already uptake service." Meanwhile Flora, heedless of the tornado that as usual unleashed Franca, methodically continued her operation of serving a good tea for two on the kitchen table. She then brought Nicòle a cup of steaming hot chocolate and a plate of homemade cookies, which disappeared soon from the tray.

      In the meantime Franca had spang on her feet: "Come on, I'm curious to see your home!" She said, simultaneously secretly using her chin to point at her unaware daughter, who had already been kidnapped by images. Flora understood so, cup in her hands, she made way to her friend towards the staircase leading to the upper floor. There were two very comfortable and spacious rooms and a bathroom.

      "It's so cute, beautiful! And these tiles: delightful. Mind if I take advantage? "

      "Are you kidding? Be my guest" The host replied watching her friend quickly lowering her pants and tights to urinate. "They come from Italy," continued Flora, pointing at the tiles. "Vietri sul Mare, to be precise; the planks are decorated by hand, one by one. I also really like them. They have those strong colors born in places where the sun shines strong". While Franca reassembled giving herself a check in front of the large ground mirror encased in plaster and surrounded by a ceramic frame, she took more confidential tones, and quickly told her latest adventures.

      They were at a moment of total confusion. Her companion, Nicòle's father, had been transferred quickly from their city. She had fortunately found work, with the help of a colleague, as a cashier. She would often have to cover the evening shift, but she did not complain. After all, the important thing was that she already had a job. Franca was very fond of appearances and with little money she wouldn’t bare it... he had two other children, the fruit of the first marriage, who were grown up. The young adults had moved with them out of necessity, but they were soon arranging to go and live in Paris to attend university.

      Flora tried to follow her hurried description as she quietly sipped her tea. The friend had mentioned something about some "help" on which she was counting. She listened carefully and curious to see where the monologue would land. Franca’s problem was not just practical: the whole family was going through a time of confusion and she tried to do her best. The eldest children, irritated by the forced move, had become impossible to deal with.

      The coexistence threatened to crumble because of her husband's affair with a colleague. finally, Franca was depressed, and was searching, for her part, for something different... Old unsolved problems had crept into the family and now were undermining the relationship.

      "The little one is agitated and nervous," Franca continued "and our family is so messed up... We are uncertain about the choices to be make."

      Franca stared at her, "Behold, I would like to entrust Nicòle to you for after school care, so you can teach her the language and help her to overcome this complicated moment. Of course you will be paid. It's obvious! Please, I do not feel like leaving her with a stranger in a country she doesn't know. For her it would only deepen the trauma so, frankly, I would avoid it."

      Flora interrupted, raising a strong hand:

      "Stop, my darling!" Said. "It is not a question of money, imagine that. However, what you ask me represents a big responsibility. You think that the Italian tiles and the kitchen on the veranda represent a heaven on earth?”. She glared at her, almost offended. "I also have my own life, you know? I live alone but it does not mean I don’t have someone and especially I have my problems, unfortunately. " Her face was overcome by a gentle sadness. Their eyes met eyes. Flora smiled, reviewing the haggard look on Franca; she seemed like the confused child, now.

      "Oh, well," he said resolutely. "All right! We will make a week test, ok? "Franca nodded with the same expression of a happy dog wagging its tail.

      "But I want to know precisely the days when she will come to me. I can receive her from three o’clock. Not before. I'm busy with work and more... and in the evening, at home by eight".

      Later, alone in the big bed, Flora closed eyes and mentally returned to the emotions that had provoked the encounter with the young Nicòle. The immature shapes, small breasts certainly, hard as marble ...

      At that point, her thoughts languished, imagining the immature flower that the young girl guarded. She would pay to be able to at least admire and smell it, but this could only remain a dream. Her thoughts, however, became more and more lascivious, despite efforts to divert the mind. Then the images, which at present were mere figments of her imagination, mingled with memories of the past. The face of the young girl overlapped with those of her mother, when she was young and fresh. She saw her lowering her flowing hair, diving onto her body, which smelt of pure pleasure. Franca’s tongue’s insatiable search. She remembered all the times they had reciprocated that exasperating poking, with their mouth, into the other’s secret spaces. The dream of Franca’s young body, in the excitement that had seized her, mingled with that of another. An unknown woman with undefined contours, illuminated by a light behind her back, which discarded her features. Shortly, however, as fresh as dew, the innocent vision of Nicòle appeared again.

      Panting and dripping, the woman reached a languid and intense pleasure that rather than satisfying, disturbed her and left her on the bed full of a renewed thirst.

      3

      In the wonderful world of the Iron Fairy (Fairy Tale)

      The Iron Fairy had a house that can only be imagined in the world of fairy tales. The young princess had introduced herself, armed only of her innocence, her love of life and her fears. She had lived too long among the mysterious echoes of the forest, seeking the strength to overcome her uncertainties;