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Our frantic year ended with our first Anniversary.
It has been incredible how many tings happened after our wedding. First, my father fell ill during our honeymoon, so we had to rush to my hometown and assist him till he died in November. Since my mother passed away five years earlier, we had to disband my parents’ place. We bought a summer house in the Danish countryside next to the place where Astrid grew up, and we moved all my family stuff over there. After the move, Denmark experienced its first hurricane since the Viking age, and we went through it.
We spent the Millennium Night in Piazza Venezia, the very centre of Rome, dancing in a beautiful small restaurant over there, and then Astrid went back to Denmark to set up our new house and get a job while I was trying to get a posting out of Rome.
In February I went to see her. She got pregnant, and immediately after got a bad spontaneous abortion, which asked for an emergency operation and a long degency.
Finally in July I went back to Denmark to pick up my bride and take her home in Rome…
Not that we felt Rome as our home, living in 50 sqm flat that had also been Karin’s place… But we had had enough being separated, and that was all what we had.
Until I managed to run away from the Defence General Staff.
August the 7th was our first Anniversary. I made Astrid a surprise, taking her out for a four-day surprise tour, meant both to please and relax her after that terrible year we just had.
We went to the Chianti hills, in Tuscany. Astrid is an expert in wines, and loves countryside, so I knew she would love it. I knew a small Tuscan villa which was organised as a hotel, and organized our stay there.
It was quite a bang. From that holiday, our life together flourished again, and we came back to Rome happy and relaxed, ready for whatever life was going to take to us.
That late summer, my youngest aunt, the one living in the flat underneath my cousins Daniele and Lella and who had always been extremely fond of Spain and of Spanish kitchen, organized a Paella Valenciana event for the whole family.
A family gathering in Rome basically includes three sisters of my mother’s, two married-in uncles, six cousins including Daniele and Lella and their two partners, and of course my wife Astrid and I. If you ask me, we are quite an oddly assorted bunch, but we get along quite nicely and never got a raw since I can remember.
I don’t enjoy the Paella very much, since I can’t stand seafood and I’m not so fond of rice, but I did enjoy the company.
All in all, the lunch was a very nice event even if we were short of the Northern branch of the family (the eldest aunt with her son’s and grandson’s partners and – of course – my own parents).
Everybody was in good mood, and there was a lot of joking and talking around the table and up and down the corridor to the kitchen.
Astrid’s Italian at the time wasn’t good enough to allow her a real conversation, but she was studying it hard, and could follow quite a lot, provided I was around to translate for her every now and then.
Lella was very friendly, as usual. Easy-going, talkative and a bit childish in her ways, she didn’t look in her mid-thirties at all. On occasions, I spotted knowing glances and intimate smiles from her side, but I was used to them; after all, we had been quite intimate until her wedding – in fact, until the wedding morning – and I assumed it was relatively natural. Astrid was the only one, as far as I know, to be aware of our past illicit sexual intimacy, so I didn’t worry about it.
Lella wore a sleeveless shirt and a knee-high skirt, enhancing her now quite attractive bosom, while my wife sported a silk dark shirt with leather jeans and boots, which enhanced her fresh pretty face and her gorgeous bottom.
Lella came closer at a point and pointed out with a smile that Astrid was back in great shape after her recent misadventure; I happily agreed: I was quite proud of her strength, as much as of her look.
When we left, we cheered everybody and exchanged hugs and kisses as family does. Only, when it came to Lella I got a fast but purposeful kiss straight on my mouth: fast enough not to look indiscrete, but unmistakably not a brotherly one.
I got a bit surprised to feel her tongue on mine for the spur of a second, but before I could react she went over to hug and kiss Astrid.
Back in the car, on our way home, my wife was unusually silent.
Only once we reached the EUR Lake, she smirked: “Lella is back on the hunting track.”
I looked at her and saw her typical, dangerous smile.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, you know… She looked and behaved sexy, she drank quite a lot of wine, she was very outgoing… And she did everything to capture your eye. Should I also mention the French kiss she gave you?”
“Yeah, she took me aback. I didn’t expect it at all. In particular, not in front of all the family and of Michele and you. Must have been a mistake.”
“Hmmm… No mistake, Roberto. And you know that. canlı bahis Maybe you didn’t realize it, but she has been after you all day. No, I am determined: she is back on you.”
I wasn’t very comfortable with the idea, so I tried to downsize the subject: “You know she’s always been a flirt. Don’t you think she simply drank a little too much and went slightly over the edge?”
“Slightly over the edge?” Astrid looked amused: “She kisses my husband in front of everybody including her own man, and I should oversee it? Come on, I am not a jealous Italian wife, but I am not dumb either. She wants you back, and made it pretty clear… But maybe you can’t see it because you only see female asses and tank emplacements.”
That was an old joke between us… According to me, she could see only blossoming trees and drifting birds: “Uh. Well, you might be right. But what can I do about it? Please don’t tell me you think I encouraged her…”
She smiled, reassuringly: “Don’t worry, I am not angry. Nor I am worried either, even if I believe the situation could get quite embarrassing with time if we do nothing about it. No, I think I am just a bit intrigued.”
“I mean, I don’t think she is dangerous… But I am not going to allow a chick to roam around my husband without reacting.”
Yeah, right. Contrary to my previous wife, Astrid never liked Lella much; she liked Daniele and his wife much better.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked again, slightly embarrassed.
“Nothing, I told you. I will do something… Only I don’t know what yet. I will think of something and let you know.”
Astrid is not a planner. Normally, she reacts out of instinct, which often leads her to interesting solutions… And sometimes to enlarged problems. The pure idea of her being willing to device something wasn’t exactly reassuring.
I let it go. Lella and her husband were living in another part of Rome, and it may take months before we see them again; I just hoped whatever came through my unpredictable cousin’s mind would fade away… And so my wife’s purposes.
I proved to be wrong in both cases.
That night, my wife fucked my brain out. Astrid can be loving and not that sexual for quite a few days, and then unexpectedly turning into a wanton and passionate lover. Before falling asleep at the end of our wild lovemaking, she whispered, “Whatever I will decide to do about your cousin, I will tell you in advance.”
Lella moved faster.
The evening later, when I made it home exhausted from the General Staff after another hell of a day (we were in the midst of the East Timor crisis, and Italy was sending a Joint Task Force of six ships with six Harriers and an airborne battalion to join the Australian-led stabilization force), Astrid grinned at me, announcing we got an invitation from Lella for dinner at their place the coming Friday.
“I told you,” my wife said with a smirk: “She’s back on business as far you’re concerned, and she will pursue her prey until she catches it… Or somebody stops her.”
“I don’t like to be the prey.” I objected: “I used to be the hunter.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what all men say… For sure, I don’t like my husband being somebody else’s prey.”
Now, Astrid isn’t a jealous type. And she knows all too well I like her far more than Lella or anybody else we know around… Would it be another girl like a neighbour or any plain acquaintance to buzz around me, she would just smilingly warn me to behave. If she was making such a fuss for my cousin’s intrusion into our life, it was mainly due to her odd ways and to our long gone illicit relationship.
The follow-up skirmish was quite an enjoyable one, as far as I was concerned. The two girls attended the dinner in their most dangerous female-fight attires: Lella was in miniskirt with thigh-high stockings, high heel sandals and a far-too-open white silk shirt, while Astrid came all clad in black, with a sleeveless blouse which enhanced her bare back and tight leggings which ended into her leather black boots.
There were just a few months difference in their age, and they were both in great shape, so it was quite a match: Lella’s make-up was a bit more vulgar, and Astrid’s look was slightly too aggressive, but all in all Michele and I, who were far more relaxed in our clothing, had something nice to look at.
Michele was more classic, even wore a tie… I kept more on the sportive side, since I hate to feel strangled by a shirt neck and a tie. But the point is, we were far underdressed compared to our wives.
I have to disappoint my few readers now: there was no foursome or wife-swapping then. It was just an evening of teasing and provoking, a pure female power show of force; a continuous, not-so-disguised skirmish between two confident and attractive ladies in their mid-thirties who were measuring their respective strengths.
It proved quite amusing for me, since I was perfectly aware of what was going on, and slightly embarrassing for Michele, who had no clue but was not bahis siteleri blind at what was taking place in front of him.
It started as we sat in the lounge to drink our appetizer, with Lella crossing her legs right in front of me and openly showing her thigh-high band and her lacy thong to both Astrid and me.
My wife replied laying on me quite openly and placing her hand on my lap, in a clear gesture of possession.
It went on while at the table, with husbands facing the other’s wife: the two ladies’ feet duelled all night playing with mine. At least once Astrid’s boot must have hit Lella’s almost unprotected toes quite badly, but my cousin bearded the pain bravely.
It peaked after dinner, as we sat again in the lounge for coffee and coffee-killer (an alcohol-heavy digestive), when Lella displaced Astrid by dropping beside me on the couch and asking her husband to look after the drinks.
Astrid felt somehow compelled to help the mistreated Michele while Lella leaned heavily on me on the couch, but she called from the kitchen, pointing out that there were neither appropriate glasses nor ice enough… Which pissed my cousin quite enough.
When Astrid came with the drinks, she bent in such a way to show off her perfect, black leather-coated ass to both of us… Lella’s is slightly oversized, but the difference is highlighted by the fact that Astrid is far taller, slender and long-legged, and our host got my wife’s ass pushed barely on her face as she sat too close to me.
When Michele came with the coffee he was smiling as usual, but you could read puzzlement on his face. It was barely evident something was going on, but he clearly couldn’t put a finger on it, and just looked quite embarrassed.
For me it was different: I knew all that show was for me, and I enjoyed it all, even if I disliked the idea of being the girls’ prey.
Sitting next to Michele, Astrid didn’t fall into the trap of reciprocating Lella’s behaviour with her husband. She sat properly, crossing her legs with style, and nonchalantly suckled her small finger in one of the most erotic gestures women can do to show they are hot.
I started feeling an erection growing inside my trousers, and Lella realized it right away.
She couldn’t counter Astrid’s move by lying ever closer against me, since her husband was looking at her, nor she could tease me with some other show because she was beside me and not in front: her own previous winning move of sitting on my couch was now tricking her.
She drank her coffee and stood, claiming something was missing, and asked Astrid to help her… They went to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of Limoncello from the fridge and a set of new glasses.
I groaned: if the struggle went on too far, I was going to go home with a hangover.
After serving the lemon liquor, they swapped position again, with Lella sitting next to her husband… Only, she kicked out a shoe and sat on her bare foot, girlie-style, which made her skirt rose far above decency allows, exposing her stockinged leg almost up to the hip.
My cock stirred further.
Astrid passed her arm behind my shoulders, hugging me. Again, she was asserting her ownership.
Lella casually started caressing her exposed thigh, with a movement her husband couldn’t see. Wile doing so, she purposefully liked her lips.
I felt Astrid frowning next to me.
I expected the conversation, till now absolutely dull and inconsistent with the events I described, to soon turn towards sexual-related items, but I proved wrong. Probably Lella thought it too dangerous with her morally strict husband sitting next to her, or possibly my church-going cousin was simply incapable to talk dirty.
We went on talking banalities while the wives skirmish went on.
I was tired and horny. My cock hurt and needed release. The two teasers were both fully aware of it, and were smiling knowingly.
When Michele went to the kitchen with the empty glasses to look weather the new ice was ready, Astrid just placed her hand on my crotch and smiled to me, like if Lella wasn’t there.
“Wow, you can’t contain yourself anymore, can you?” she giggled in English: “Can you resist till we are at home?”
Lella perfectly understood English: she went crimson.
“Please wait until you’re off,” she managed to say, also in English.
“Of course my dear,” Astrid smiled at her: “I can afford waiting a little, you know…”
Lella showed the hit, and I knew the clash was over for the night.
I wasn’t wrong: once Michele was back, we got a last sip of Limoncello and agreed to call the night.
Once more, my cousin’s goodnight kiss was far more intimate than it should, and this time she run the risk her husband to notice, since Astrid’s to him was quite brief.
As soon as we sat in the car, my wife’s hand reached back for my cock and felt it through the trousers.
“Uh!” she smiled: “You’re still hard… I wonder weather your cousin realizes that the only result of all her efforts will be a long, wild bahis şirketleri night for the two of us!”
It proved to be both a long and wild night, and a long and wild morning too.
In the end, after I walked our dog and went for fresh croissants at the baker nearby and we made love again after breakfast in bed, Astrid commented on my cousin’s attitude: “I have rarely seen a girl so desperate to get laid.”
“Yeah,” I agreed: “She’s put on quite a show, yesterday… Can’t blame it on the drinks this time. I wonder weather even her naive of a husband noticed something…”
“Right. I do hope she’s not going to do something very stupid… Something which could embarrass herself really bad, and maybe us too.” Astrid looked really thoughtful, thinking it out: “I need to do something before it’s too late. Desperate people can really fuck up, and not only themselves… And sexually desperate women can fuck up far more badly than other people, believe me.”
I groaned, and once again I asked what she was thinking to do.
Once again, she answered she was going to tell me before doing anything, once she had sorted it out.
The Italian Task Force had reached East Timor, and for the first time ever Italian troops were ashore and in action in a tropical jungle theatre; as a typical Italian nuisance, our Liaison Officer in Canberra was speaking no English but a very good Portuguese “since that was the official language in East Timor”, so there was a hell of a lot of problems to deal with the other hemisphere from my office.
I was really tired, the Time difference and the Australian accent weren’t helping and most of my bosses were quite pissed with the situation.
There were a lot of unscheduled issues. For example, the sailors who were sunbathing on the deck of the V-STOL Carrier were getting paid much better than the troops patrolling the jungle, since while the former were operating “off-shore”, the latter were ashore in a low-cost country. Our parachutists thought it wasn’t funny.
As I said, I was tired.
So, the telephone call took me a bit off-guard.
“Hi Roberto, it’s me.”
“Lella? How the hell did you get my duty phone number?”
“I called the number on the Defence website and asked for your name,” my cousin giggled: “It took a few minutes, but it worked. Listen, I wanted to apologise for Friday evening. I probably exaggerated, but I was desperate to be with you, and Astrid looked so sexy…”
“EHz, no problem for me… It was fun. Actually, I had a very nice evening. I just wondered what was going on.”
Lella sighed: “Can’t we talk to each other? I mean, alone. Without our spouses.”
There it was. “I don’t think it would be a good idea, cousin. I believe the way we went on till now was the best we could do. I can’t speak for your husband, but I am loyal to my wife. She knows about the two of us, and whatever you want to talk about, can be said in front of her too.”
She sobbed: “I thought so. But I can’t talk in front of her… It would be far too embarrassing for me…! Try to understand.”
“Lella, I can see your embarrassment, and I hear your urge. But I can’t oversee my loyalty to Astrid either… Not even for you. Can you understand that?”
Another sob: “I can. It’s part of you being you… And that makes me need you even more badly.”
“Listen Lella, I have no time now. You probably heard there is an ugly crisis in Timor, and I am badly busy with it right now…”
“Timor? Is that somewhere in Africa?”
“Yeah, right. Lella, I will talk with Astrid about it and then I’ll call you back this afternoon. Okay?”
“No, please! Don’t tell her. Roberto, please don’t humiliate me… I am feeling so bad already!”
“Lella, there is no way I am going to see you behind my wife’s back. Not knowing how your mind works and in particular not after yesterday night. If you are in troubles, we will not leave you out in the cold… But we need to do it in the proper way.”
Silence… Then, after one more sob: “Call me at my cell phone. You know the number.”
I hung up.
I breathed hard, and then I called Astrid.
She listened carefully, and then said, “Okay, listen. I will talk to her and take an appointment. With you, with me, or with both of us, I don’t know yet. But you’re right, we do need to talk to her. When you come home this evening, I’ll tell you what I sorted out. Trust me.”
I made it home really late that day.
When I arrived, Astrid had the tub ready with foam and relaxing salt crystals for me; I jumped in and she sat close to me, smiling. I even got a glass of wine to sip while enjoying the warm water. I needed it.
“I spoke to her.” Astrid said, catching my full attention: “She was both surprised and disappointed to hear from me, but I told her it was okay and we needed to talk. She said she was embarrassed about last night, but I told her it was fun as far as we were concerned, and anyway I wasn’t going to judge her or her behaviour. I told her I knew about your story together, and again I wasn’t judging. I said that if she needed help, she was going to get help. Only, she was going to get it from us both, and not from you alone. From us as a couple, and not just from her former lover. Take it or leave it.”
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