Vino or Among the Vines

The sun was setting over the rolling hills of Tuscany. Shades of purples, oranges, and pinks exposing the sun’s dying rays to the vines plump with the season’s harvest. There was a buzz of excitement flowing through the old vineyard as the harvest would begin as soon as the sun’s first light brightened the eastern skies. But for now, the workers would rest.

Laid out among the vines, as was tradition before the harvest, was a feast that would make anyone’s palate tingle. Platters are teaming with the finest locally grown grapes and olives., dishes overflowing with poultry and beef prepared according to Italian tradition. And of course, every spare centimeter of the table was loaded with the vineyards finest offerings: Vino.

Everything about this evening was traditional. The food and drink, the music floating through the summer night air. Even the night itself seemed to understand the hallowed traditions of a harvest eve. There was but one lone break from that tradition.

Behind the crowds, away from this scene of Italian culture, dressed not in the soiled clothes of a vintner but the sophisticated garb of American business is a single woman. The woman takes in the excitement from the viewfinder of her camera. Red hair frames an elegant face of pale skin and pink lips. The camera cradled in her soft hands obstructs her crystal blue eyes, yet one can tell that they shine brightly.

The quiet beeps and clicks of the camera are the only indication that she is there among the vines. Occasionally, she moves around the group and the tables to get a better angle or a clear line of sight. The shutter moves with her, a part of her, like a great chef and his knife. The camera remains close to her face; its eye is her eye, and she sees what it sees.

Through the viewfinder of her camera, she watches as the workers and extended family work to complete the dinner table. At the last minute dishes are being set down and the silver laid next to the overflowing plates. The photographer watches the people and the food. There would be plenty of time for the vines tomorrow, but tonight it was her privilege to capture the excitement and anticipation of the imminent meal and harvest.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” The unexpected voice made the woman jump.

“You scared me!” she squealed.

“I am sorry; I did not mean to alarm you.”

“It’s ok. Yes, I am having a grand time.” She says with a smile. Only then turning to see her guest. He was in his mid-thirties, about her age. His skin was tanned, and his chest and shoulders were rigid from a lifetime spent working the grape. He had a mane of black hair and a gentle look to his face. From the clothes draped over is form, the American could tell that he was one of the workers.

“Excellent. We do not often have guests, but when we do, I like to know that they are comfortable.” He said with a genuine smile. “I am Leonardo Medici, but you may call me Leo.”

“Kimberly Carson.” The woman extended her hand to the Vintner and was surprised when he brought it up to his lips. The gentle brush of his soft lips was exquisite. She found herself wondering when Americans had lost this tradition of kissing hands.

“You are a Medici? That means that your family owns this vineyard?”

“This land has been worked by my family for 15 generations.” He said taking a sip from a glass of red wine that he had been holding.

‘Then, can you tell me more about what is going to happen tomorrow?” she asked

‘Of course, but now we eat. After dinner, we will take a walk through the vines, and there I will answer your questions.” He took her hand in a calloused grip and led her to the table. The photographer had become a part of the subject.

The wine and food never seemed to stop. Bottle after bottle was upended into expectant glasses and plate after plate cleaned and removed. Chicken, beef, fruits and cheese danced past the American, each plateful getting sweeter and sweeter until the final course of gelato, cheese, and beautifully sweet ice wine. Through the meal, her constant companion, Leo, regaled her with the tales earned from growing up the son of a vintner in Tuscan wine country.

The moon rose higher and higher in the night sky and workers and relatives drifted off to bed in anticipation of the next day’s work. Soon the voices of the crowd had thinned to just two.

“Now come, I promised you a walk through the vines, and I always keep my promises.” Leo said as he rose. Kimberly’s had swum in the very best of Italian wine as the vintner guided her from her seat.

The harvest moon glared brightly and illuminated the vines as they entered. The sweet smell of grapes hung lightly in the air and somewhere the music had stopped.

“So what can you tell me about the harvest?” Kimberly asked through a slightly fogged brain.

“I think that it is not fair that I would tell you of myself and my life and would hear nothing from you. Let’s do this: For every question you ask I shall ask one of my own?” Leo said slowly guiding her deeper into the vines.

“Ok. Now answer my question already.” She said feigning exasperation.

“Tomorrow we will all rise with the first light. The workers will go through the fields and cut the grapes that are good for wine. We are very selective with our wines.’ He said the last bit with a bit of professional pride.

“Do you smash the grapes with your feet? I had heard about that.”

“It is my turn to ask you a question. I see that you wear a wedding ring. If you are married then where is your husband?”

“He is in Rome. He is giving a lecture on Olive Oil.” She replied, “Now, about the feet thing.”

“We reserve a small portion of the harvest, grapes not fit for wine, to do this with. We use a different method of creating grape juice. This vineyard is the oldest in Tuscany, and we like to keep to traditions, so we do this for fun after the days work. Does your husband produce olive oil?’

“No he is a chef, and he is lecturing to fellow chefs from America. They just decided that it would be fun to be here for the lecture. I know that your vineyard ages your wines in oak. Can I see that being done?”

“Of course, you can. I will take you there tomorrow. It is much nicer to see in the daylight. Why did you come to my vineyard?”

“I was in Rome with my husband, on vacation, when I heard that the harvest was nearing. I have always wanted to see it and get some pictures for my husband’s next book. So I called ahead and drove down here this afternoon. You said that you use another method for juicing the grapes. What method is that?” Kimberly asked.

“We use the weight of the grapes themselves to produce the juice. Doing that way prevents the seeds and stems from cracking and releasing bitterness into the juice. Do you love your husband?”

Kimberly stopped walking and turned to face him. “That’s not a fair question!”

“Sure it is. After years of marriage, the candle tends to burn low. Do you still have passion with him?” Leo asked stepping closer

“He is a good man. He has provided a great life for our children and me. I love him with all my heart.”

“You didn’t answer the question. Is your marriage still passionate?” Leo took another step closer. Kimberly caught his smell. Earth and fruit. It wasn’t unpleasant.

“My husband works very hard. He is working most nights and is usually tired when he comes home. He loves me, and I love him. When we were younger passion was our driving force. But we both work very hard. Him with a knife and me with a camera. Part of why we came to Italy was to reclaim that passion.” Kimberly explained. She wondered why she was telling him this. To say she wasn’t attracted to him would be a lie but she did love her husband. She just wished it could go back to the way it was.

“It is a shame that the passion has faded from your life. Do you blame your husband for this?”

“No. I suppose we are both to blame. With kids and careers, it is hard to find time for each other.”

“I understand.” He said closing the final distance between them. The smell of earth and air filled Kimberly’s nose. Her head swam with the wine of 15 generations, and her guard was down.

Leo leaned into Kimberly and brushed her lips with his. The soft flesh of his lips pressed lightly into her own. His kiss tasted of the wine and gelato. She told herself once again that she loved her husband, and she meant it. But under the Tuscan moon, she was powerless to resist the vintner. He had taken her into his spell with an Italian accent, a charming smile, and too much wine.

Kimberly found herself kissing back. Her hand found the back of his head and pulled him into a deeper kiss. Leo’s hands landed on her hips, and she felt the weight of them as he caressed. Her hands wandered Leo’s chest, and she discovered that his muscles were harder than they looked under the simple shirt that he wore.

Their kiss became fevered and passionate. Kimberly’s hands began to act of their own accord. Her fingers danced the buttons out of the button holes. Leo’s fingers unbuttoned the two buttons on the suit jacket she wore, and he pushed the jacket off of her shoulders and into the rocky soil of the vineyard.

Leo had worked loose half of the buttons on the simple white shirt she wore when his shirt, the shirt of a worker, hit the dirt as well. Kimberly moved away from his kiss to see the body she had exposed.

Her shirt hung open as she examined the vintner. Moonlight cast shadows in the deep impressions his muscles had formed through his years in the field. His chest was broad and strong, and his stomach was covered with rock hard abdominal muscles. His arms were big and powerful; each muscle carved out of human stone. Kimberly was never one to care much about bodies, but she couldn’t deny the wetness forming between her legs. She wanted him.

Her hands reached out and moved over his body. She stepped toward him again and kissed his neck As her lips caressed his hard flesh she felt her shirt fall away. No care at all that her white shirt had dropped to the dirt. Kimberly felt his lips on her neck as well. She sucked a bit of flesh into her mouth and nibbled it. A deep moan tore from him, and she felt his hot breath on her wet neck. The brisk air sent a chill through her.

Leo moved his hand up to cup her breast. His rough hand excited her as it ran across her tender flesh. His finger dipped beneath the black bra that encased her heavy mounds.

His fingertips found her nipples, and he teased them to erection. His was his turn to feel her breath as she let out a quiet moan. Leo’s other hand found the clasp at her back and worked it loose. The bra fell away to join the growing pile of clothes on the ground.

Now Leo stepped back to examine the photographer. Her breasts hung heavy with size on her chest but still possessed the perk of youth. At their peaks were two pinkish brown nipples that stood erect.

The two came together once more. Their lips met in another passionate kiss. Leo could feel the softness of the tits, tipped with supple nipples, pressing into his chest. Kimberly could feel the hardness pressed against her. She could also feel another hardness emerging.

Kimberly’s hand ran down the vintner’s chiseled chest and down. She gripped the hardness through the blue work pants that he wore. Her hand encircled his now rigid prick, and she was surprised by his girth and length. Her husband was average, but this farmer more than filled her hand.

Leo enjoyed her hand on him and took it as a cue. He reached is hands forward and worked the closure on the slacks that his lover wore. Once undone they fell away. He felt a tugging at his pants as Kimberly stepped from the trousers leaving those too in the dirt.

The photographer pushed down on the pants restraining the object of her desire. She guided them to the ground kissing his chest and stomach all the way down and up again. Her lips found his again and her hand wrapped around the rigid tool between them. It felt amazing in her hand. So firm and big, just what she had been craving.

The two stood close. She slowly stroked the vintner, his cock, contracting and expanding with his heartbeat. Her hand slid down to the very base, and she used the tip of his cock to tickle her pubic hair

Leo broke the kiss and leaned his head down. He took a nipple into his mouth, just licking and caressing with no pressure. Her hand began to move once more as a moan escaped her lips. He applied more pressure as he sucked her nipples.

She slowed her speed, and he lightened his pressure. Kimberly’s hand began to move fast. He suddenly sucked hard and nibbled. A load moan came from Kimberly and her free hand found the back of his head once more. She slowed her speed, and he lightened his touch.

Leo felt his head pushed toward her other breast. They began the same game over again. Their moans filled the Tuscan air. When Kimberly could take no more, she pushed his head away.

She began kissing his neck and chest, still stroking his cock excruciatingly slow. Her mouth danced over the harness of his upper body and moved its way lower and lower. As she slid down him, she kept his cock in contact with his body. The head of his prick grazed her body all the way up. Over her stomach and between her breasts. She finally let it slip away from her body as it approached her jaw.

Kimberly was kneeling on the pile of clothes that had fallen away and eye to eye with a real work of art. She drank it in. The ridged flesh stood at an upward angle the tip glistening with precum. Her hand could quite make it all the way around it, and it spilled out of her hand by at least another hand.

The photographer brought her other hand up and encircled the beautiful prick with it. Even with both hands, the head was still exposed to the Tuscan moonlight. Without thinking her lips moved toward it to kiss the tip. The spongy flesh yielded only slightly to her gentle pressure.

Leo closed his eyes and moaned when he felt the woman’s tongue slide over the head of his engorged member. He felt her tongue swirl around him and then down into her hand. The feeling was exquisite. Her wet tongue pressed into his cock with her hand created a warm, wet pressure. The photographer was showing her experience.

The woman pulled her hand away and slid her mouth around him. The size excited her; she had never had such a cock, even in the early years she had never tasted and experienced such glory.

She did not try to take all of him. Her mouth simply did its thing as she sucked and licked his cock. Her mind exploded with his taste and texture, and she drank him in greedily. Soon enough, though, Kimberly felt the head of his cock pressing against the back of her throat and her lips touching her hand.

Kimberly moved her hand down and took him deeper, her throat opening and accepting his cock. She remained motionless for a moment and swallowed. Leo moaned so loud that she thought he would wake the others in the house. Her head worked its way back up his cock to the tip. She let it fall from her lips, and she stood.

Leo kissed the woman, tasting his cock on her kiss. It was his first time for this, and he found it erotic. He let his hands slide down her body and between her legs. Slippery wetness greeted him. His finger slid easily into her, and he felt her weight shift to lean against his for support.

He let his finger slide in and out of her to his rhythm. He spread her lips and exposed her to the cool summer breeze flowing lazily through the vineyard. His finger touched the soft nub of her clit, and another moan escaped the redhead’s lips. The vintner pressed gently into her and rubbed her.

Kimberly could only bear this for a moment. She pushed him back and took his magnificent cock once more. She pulled him close and slid the shaft of his cock between her pussy lips. The photographer rocked her hips and slid her pussy back and forth over her lover’s cock.

Leo threw his head back and moaned to the bright moon. Kimberly slid off the end of his cock and pulled the tip to her pussy. She let just the very tip part the lips. The truth was that Kimberly was always a tease, but she always delivered in the end.

Leo wrapped his strong arms around her and lifted her off her feet. The man lifted her above him with the tip of his dick still in her pussy. He slowly lowered her down on to him. He could feel how tight she was as her weight settled on him.

Kimberly felt filled completely, as though if he were even another millimeter bigger he wouldn’t fit. His size didn’t hurt her at all. On the contrary, she felt pure bliss as she settles on to him. Never before had she been filled so completely.

The winemaker laid her on her back on the pile of clothes that was serving as a bed in the middle of the grapevines. His strong legs moved to pull himself out of her. Kimberly was on fire. Leo repositioned himself and pushed his cock back into her. His strong legs pumped and his cock slid in out of her tight pussy.

Kimberly lay beneath him and allowed herself to be filled. With every movement of his cock, she felt the electricity flowing through her body. His strokes became faster, and the photographer began to squeeze him when he slid into her.

The woman began to feel the first signs of orgasm and realized that she was moaning…loudly. Kimberly felt the flow began. She was going to cum soon. Really, cum. He was now slamming into her. She looked up at him and saw the moonlight glistening off the sweat on his tanned skin.

She reached up and dug her nails into his hard pecks and let it happen. Her pussy flexed around him as she let out a scream. Her whole body contracted and the lightning flowed through her. Her eyes clamped tight against the fireworks behind her eyes. She felt the cum spraying out of her pussy. She would never admit it, but she loved the feeling of cumming all over a hard cock.

Leo kept fucking her hard. Driving his prick into her over and over again. Her pussy clamped down around him, and he felt his orgasm rising. He slowed his pace just enjoyed the feeling of being inside the sexy photographer.

Kimberly gasped for breath and finally found it. He was still inside of her not moving. In time her breathing slowed, and she realized that her head felt light. The wine and the orgasm fought for superiority in her fogged mind.

Leo slowly slid out of her. He let the head of his cock brush her clit. Kimberly clamped down again, and another wave of cum flowed out of her pussy. He sat back on his haunches and just looked. The photographer looked ravaged. Her hair was a mess, and her thighs dripped with her cum. Her chest rose and fell quickly.

Kimberly laid still for a moment and then struggled to her knees. She kneeled shakily in front of the vintner for a moment before bidding him stand. Leo rose to his feet and stood in front of the woman.

She wrapped her hand around the base of his cock and took him into her mouth. Once more she lost herself in how completely he filled her both mouth and pussy. Her tongue brought the flavors of both her cum and his cock to her palate. With her free hand, she caressed his hairless balls.

Kimberly was spent but merely enjoyed the feeling of his cock in her mouth. She slowly slid down the shaft and up again. Her hand slid along the base, and her fingers caressed his balls. After a few minutes of just tasting his cock, she felt his balls rise up, and his cock grew thick in her mouth.

Leo’s cock erupted, but gently. His cum slipped into her mouth and she swallowed. Another spurt filled her mouth and pushed its way out the corners of her lips. She swallowed again. Kimberly was treated to two more loads of cum before his orgasm subsided.

The photographer fell back to the ground. She marveled at the taste on her lips. The winemaker’s cum tasted sweet, like the worlds most erotic dessert. She had nothing left in her. Her eyes closed and she drifted off to dream with the memory of being filled and fucked so well and the taste of the vintner’s cum on her lips.

************************************************************************

Kimberly awoke to the light of dawn streaming through her window. In a single brief moment, it had all come back to her. The vintner and a night in full view of the Tuscan moon filled her head. She sat up and realized that she could still taste the vintner’s cum.

She looked around at her surroundings and realized that she didn’t know how she got here. This was the room that the winery had given her when she arrived, and her clothes had been cleaned and were folded up neatly on the dresser. Kimberly stood and grabbed a fresh set of clothes out of the closet. She dressed quickly, grabbed her camera and headed toward the fields.

When she arrived outside, she could see that the harvest was in full swing. The vines that stood the night silently before crowded with workers cutting grapes from the vines. The table was long gone, and the workers had sobered up. And so had she.

For an hour or more she moved through the crowds taking close ups of the harvesting process. Pictures of the workers sweating, though the day was barely two hours old. Every time she took a picture she made sure to thank the workers in her very rough Italian.

Kimberly caught images of the landscape and the grapes. The trucks and boxes used to haul the grapes fell victim to her camera as well. The morning passed quickly.

“Come now it is time for lunch.” Came Leo’s voice from directly beside her.

“Is it your mission in life to scare me?” Kimberly asked.

“Of course not. Come I have packed lunch. There is something that I think you would like to photograph.” He said taking her by the hand and pulling her into the naked vines.

They headed up a steep hill, and Kimberly noticed that vines here weren’t swarming with harvesters. ‘Why aren’t you harvesting these grapes?”

“These grapes are being grown for ice wine. They will not be harvested until late winter.” He explained as they crested the hill. The photographer instantly saw what he wanted her to see.

At the very peak of the hill was a single vine, enclosed in a wrought iron fence. Without though the camera was in hands and she was snapping pictures of all angles.

“What is this?”

“This is the root. Every vine in this vineyard spawned from this single vine. At the very heart, far under the earth is the cutting that was carried here by my grandfather of 15 generations. This is my heritage. Your pictures will allow this vine to live forever even though it stopped bearing fruit long before my time.”

‘Leo…I”

“Don’t. Last night is what it is. I know that you are married, and I expect nothing. Let us just enjoy a night in good company. We are a much more sexually open people than you Americans. I am not in love with you, and I brought you here for only one purpose: so that you could take pictures of my vine.” Leo explained. Kimberly felt relieved. The last thing she wanted was to leave her husband or have some crazy foreign guy trying to fuck things up. Much better this way.

Once Kimberly had taken her pictures, and they had eaten the pair returned to the harvest. The workers were nearing the end of the vines and Kimberly moved among them to get as much as she could.

“Would you like to cut some of them?” Leo asked her when the harvest was nearly finished.

“Sure!” Leo explained the use of the grape knives and started pointing out bunches for her to cut off. The work was hard on the hands after only a few minutes, but Kimberly was determined to finish the row.

Her hands worked furiously, and the bunches fell into her basket one by one. The sun was beginning to ride low in the sky when Leo stopped her.

“Kimberly, I made a promise to show you the casks. Let’s go and see them.”

Leo led her back toward the houses. At the center of the cluster of buildings stood a stone warehouse. Leo pulled open the heavy wooden door and guided her inside.

The room was full of racks. Upon each rack was several rows of oak barrels. Even more barrels stood on their ends around the chamber. The camera went to work again capturing the barrels and the dust that floated through the sunlight streaming in from the roof skylights.

“Come, I want to show you something.” Leo said guiding her to a particular rack of barrels.

He pulled one of the barrels off of the bottom shelf and pointed out a plug that was driven into the barrels side. He removed the cap and inserted a strange looking metal device that he had pulled from his pocket. It went into the hole in the barrel and came back with about an ounce of wine on it.

“Taste.’ He said. “This wine is the finest wine our vineyard has ever made. This wine was harvested 33 years ago, the year I was born. This wine sells for several thousand Euros a bottle now.”

The moment her lips touched the wine, she knew why. It was indescribable but without a doubt, the best wine she had every tasted.

“Thank you for showing me all of this wonderful things.” She said, watching him reseal the cask and replace it on the rack.

“It has been my pleasure.’ Leo said. He rose to his feet and kissed her lips. Once again Kimberly found herself returning his kiss. She could feel it. It was going to happen again. For a brief moment, the photographer was torn. She loved her husband but damn it this was just so good. What occurred in Tuscany stays in Tuscany. She didn’t feel guilty because she finally understood why she had come to Tuscany. She let herself go.

She pulled him to her lips and kissed him deeply. Her hand went to the back of his head to pull him closer. The photographer’s other hand began frantically opening buttons on the man’s shirt. From the tugging at her shirt, Kimberly could tell that he was doing the same.

Once his shirt was open, she dug her nails into his well-toned chest pulling a moan from his lips. Leo’s hands cupped her large breast through the same bra from the night before. He started guiding her backward while she pulled off her open blouse. A few steps later, Leo had her pressed up against one of the barrels of wine. Using both hands, he pulled her tits out over her bra.

Kimberly pushed his shirt off of his shoulders and ran her nails down his back. Leo leaned into her and cupped his hands around her ass. He gave her ass a firm squeeze and then lifted her up to sit on the wine cask. She pulled his pants down past his hips without unfastening them.

The vintner’s cock had barely bounced free before Kimberly had taken it into both hands and began to stroke furiously. She felt his cock and knew that she wanted it but not like the night before. She wanted to be fucked and fucked hard. She used his cock to pull him closer and sunk her teeth into his neck.

Leo let out a scream of pleasure and started to pull the woman’s pants off. He lifted her off the cask and liberated her pants and tossed them aside. In one motion he set her back down on the oak barrel and kneeled in front of her. Last night she had introduced him to new ways of oral sex. Now it was his turn to do the same.

Without any hesitation, he buried his face between her thighs. Kimberly let out a loud moan and pulled his head deeper into her. She felt his tongue enter her lick the walls of her pussy. Leo’s tongue writhed inside of her as he brought his hand up to her clit.

He wet his fingers and began to rub her clit. His movements were fast but gentle. He could feel Kimberly’s fingers urging him deeper. He allowed his tongue and his fingers to trade places. His first two fingers slid into her and instantly found her G-spot, just behind and to the left. He used his fingers to massage her while his tongue danced over her clit.

The photographer didn’t know if it the fact that she was getting eaten out on a wine cask in Tuscany by a hot winemaker that was not her husband or if the man was just really talented, but she could feel an orgasm coming on. It would be nothing compared to the night before, but it would be good nonetheless. She could feel her pussy contract as the wave of orgasm flowed through her.

Leo felt the wetness coat his fingers as her pussy clamped down on them. A low deep moan slid from the woman as continued to lick her clit. Once her pussy relaxed and she calmed down a little, he removed himself from her thighs.

Kimberly jumped off the cask and slid to her knees. “I want your cock in my mouth so bad.”

She pulled him to her and wrapped her lips around his cock. Her mouth filled as she took him straight into her throat. She bobbed her head in a quick motion and fucked his cock with her throat. Just before she came back for air, she swallowed.

Leo’s knees went weak, and he leaned over the photographer and braced himself on the cask. She jacked his cock a few times and ran her tongue over its length.

“Fuck my mouth baby.” She cooed before sucking him back into her lips. Leo used the cask for leverage and slid his cock in and out of her mouth. He felt her hand slid up and cup his balls, applying gentle pressure upward. Leo realized that he was moaning and wondered how long he had been doing it.

Kimberly pulled his cock from her mouth and stroked it. She lowered her head down and took one of his balls onto her tongue. She sucked him while stroking his cock and switched to the other.

Leo couldn’t take it anymore and stepped back. The photographer rose to her feet only to have the vintner pick her up and put her back on to the cask. Her legs fell open exposing her pussy to him. He approached her and rubbed his cock on her pussy lips.

“Just fuck me.” She said and pulled him deep into her pussy. A deep moan escaping her as he filled her.

With the power of his legs behind it, he began to fuck her fast and hard. Only a brief time into the fucking a hot sweat broke out on his skin. Kimberly found herself gripping the barrel behind her to stay in place against his hard thrusts. He pumped her faster and harder than she would have thought possible.

After a few minutes of this hard fucking, Leo pulled her off the cask and turned her around. Kimberly leaned over the barrel exposing her ass and pussy to his hard cock. She felt his big prick slide into her pussy and she gripped the cask in anticipation.

Once again he began to fuck her hard, so hard that the full wine barrel started to rock with his thrusts. He used his hands to cup and pinch her ass while his cock slammed her pussy. He could feel the flow of her orgasm beginning.

“Oh Yes, fuck me hard. I’m cumming.” Screamed the woman as orgasm overtook her. She began to cum in long spurts that covered them both. Her pussy felt like a velvet vice on his hard cock.

“That’s it. Fuck me good.” She screamed riding through the orgasm. Her eyes closed and she fell to her knees, his cock sliding from her. She leaned her face against the cask to catch her breath.

Once she had it again, the photographer turned and leaned against cask. “I want more of your sweet cum in my mouth.”

She pulled the vintner closer via his cock and put it in her lips. She sucked him hard and fast. It wasn’t long before the winemaker was pouring his sweet cum into the photographer’s mouth. Unlike last night his cum shot into the back of her throat and filled her mouth. She swallowed most of it, but some still escaped her mouth and spilled over her milky tits. Kimberly fell back against the cask and closed her eyes. She heard Leo do the same thing.

She had figured out the real reason she had come to Tuscany. It wasn’t for the pictures. She had come to feel alive again. She and her husband had come to Italy to revive their passion. Hers had been revived. A brief Tuscan interlude had given her sex with a perfect stranger, but now all she wanted was to get back to her husband and share what she had found among the vines.

She felt no guilt. It wasn’t needed. Now she could return to her husband and rekindle the old flame. Somewhere she thought that Leonardo Medici knew exactly what he was doing. Her husband had Leo to thank for what was about to happen to him. And he would never know it.

“You are amazing. Thank you for this.” She said through panting breath.

‘Did you find what you needed to find under the Tuscan sun.” he asked

“No. I found it under the Tuscan moon.”