The Italian Kiss.

I’m Rachel. I’m young and single and a bit of a flirt. I wouldn’t necessarily consider myself a slut, but I do like to get my leg over now and then.

Never in a million years would I ever have considered the very idea that my feet can be just as much an area of sexual pleasure as the usual parts of my body. I mean, they’re just feet for fuck sake! There’s nothing sexual about them at all! I know there’s endless amounts of people out there who have a fetish for a girls lower extremities, but I could never bring myself to understand what it was they found so captivating.

The very thought of having someone’s toes anywhere near a person’s face was one of the grossest things I could think of. Feet are smelly, dirty, and with a list of ailments all of their own with things like athlete’s foot and verruca. I’m a clean girl and I can’t stand the smell of sweaty feet, mainly because of my older brothers who would wear the same socks for days on end and leave a rancid odour travelling through the rooms of the house behind them.

I’ve always had something of a negative view of feet in general; they just didn’t register to me as being sexy in any way. Legs, yes, they have an obvious sex appeal, just like tits, hips and arse, but feet? No. I couldn’t see them in an erotic light. A foot massage, however, is a wonderful experience. A couple of boyfriends in the past treat me to a tootsie rub now and then and it felt great, but not really sexual.

A few years ago me and the girls spent several days at a spa resort in Cornwall where we had a professional massage on our entire bodies including our feet. Again, wonderful and deeply relaxing but it didn’t turn me on that much. The guy who gave me the rub down, however, was a completely different story that I won’t be getting into here. But anyway, fast forward until last month. Me and the girls head to London for a Hen weekend of wild drunken behaviour. Sammy had decided to take the plunge and tie the knot so we decided to show her what she’ll be saying good bye to for the rest of her life. We go from bar to bar, make fools of ourselves, wind the boys up and cause a few fights, avoid the police and let off steam the old fashioned way. sure we all got off with a bunch of amorous lads but kept it clean. Just.

Second night in and I meat Clive. I call him Clive cause he’s Italian and his real name’s a bit of a mouth full, just like him in one respect. Anyway, we met by chance and hit it off straight away. To cut a long story short us girls manage to sneak a bunch of fellas into the hotel and help Sammy enjoy her last taste of freedom, (just don’t tell her fiancé for fuck sake). I end up alone with Clive, the Italian stallion who almost looked like a movie star, minus the growing bald patch on the back of his head and the couple of decades between us, plus the amount of booze I’d knocked down my throat that evening was probably clouding my vision.

He was taking the lead and I was just going along for the ride, hoping the Mediterranean level of passion was gonna live up to its reputation and leave me drifting in a state of bliss, unable to remember who I was any more.

This exotic man wasn’t quite the bull in a china shop that men from his land are famous for, he was much more reserved like a hungry man savouring his meal like it was his last and enjoying every mouthful. It’s true what they say about the Italian kiss, the passion alone is enough to knock your knickers off and spread your legs wide open to allow a train to get through.

Those kisses started on my smudged lipstick then worked their way down to my neck; by now my mind had already vacated my brain and left me too it, not wanting to be held accountable for the trouble I was about to get myself into. He tore my dress in half and ripped my thong from my body, devouring my nipples as I locked my legs around him tearing at his shirt and scratching his back!

He scooped me up then slammed me back down onto the bed to unlock my legs, stood there on his knees holding my ankles on either side of his face. His shirt was open exposing his hairy body, with a bulge in his pants that nearly broke his zipper, looking at me with that wild gleam in his eyes, like a predator at the end of a long hunt, ready to devour his prey. He said something in Italian as he undid the straps around my ankles, slid my shoes off and dropped them to the ground. He gripped my feet pressing his thumbs against my heels then stroking my soles, squeezing my toes in a way that gave me a sinking sensation of relief. I groaned as I felt myself sink into the bed, like an enormous weight had just been lifted from my mind, body and soul.

As I lay there relaxed to the point of defencelessness under the absolute domination of my manly lover, horny to the point of eternal damnation, my sense awareness drew my attention to a strange sensation causing havoc with my nervous system, something that felt so strangely wonderful and yet the confusion at it shouldn’t be possible from that area of my body! I looked up to observe my man dragging his tongue up the arches of my feet from the heel to the toe. The initial shock caused my vagina to clench, oozing with trickles of liquid lust! Seriously, I could have crushed a fucking cocoanut in there!

Anyway, my initial reaction was to move my feet away yet his grip was firm, I had no choice but to surrender to his will and allow this beastly man to do whatever he wanted. He licked, caressed, kissed and suckled, kisses that confounded me to a docile state of stupor, unable to speak, think or reason, just enslaved to the pleasure at the mercy of his skills, fearful in apprehension of the powerful sensations yet to come!!

No foot massage had ever felt this good, but then, this wasn’t a massage, this was a sensual assault that totally destroyed my previous attitudes towards my feet! He worshipped them as though they were the most desirable things in existence, like there was no tomorrow! I couldn’t believe how his method of touch was sending twinges of stimulation in my most sacred spot that caught my breath and caused my heart to skip a beat as he gently wriggles his tongue between my toes! Wrapping his lips around the pads of my big toes and firmly suckling the stress right out of me! Replacing the built up tensions of the day with waves of gentle splashes of relaxation that make my muscles melt and my bones turn to rubber!

My automated systems of breathing and heart beat running on emergency back up to aid my survival as my brain is no longer fit for service! Swimming in a pool of lost inhibitions drifting aimlessly into nowhere without a clue or a care as to where he’s taking me! His strong hands squeezing my feet causing invisible plooms of steam to escape my system easing the pressure that was weighing heavily on my soul for god knows how many years! Dragging his tongue from my heel to my toes; electrifying my nerves sending signals of pleasure directly to my most sensitive region, that I never in my life imagined could be stimulated to the point of no return by the lowest extremes of my anatomy! The moisture between my legs as my lady parts relax waiting eagerly in anticipation to be infiltrated to breaking point by his swollen intentions!!!

He rested my ankles on his shoulders, then slowly removed his jacket and torn shirt, unfastened his belt, popped his button, then pushed them down to release the beast from its restrictive captivity. My response was to reach up and grab hold of the iron bars at the head of the bed and to hold on for dear life! Surely my tiny body wasn’t able to accommodate that lethal looking thing!

He shuffled off his clothes, got into position with his knees either side of my hips and grabbed a spare pillow, folded it in half and shuffled it beneath my bottom to raise my pelvis. Once in place he wrapped his arms around my legs clamping them to his chest, and pressed the head of his manhood against my soggy lips. Slowly rotating his hips he moved the head up and down my overly lubricated crevice, teasing my swollen clitoral bud almost as an act of cruelty, knowing damn well of my animal desperation to get that lady killer to take the plunge and rip me clean in half.

Because of the way he had my legs I was unable to manipulate my hips to get him in, adjusting himself to stay outside with that smug grin on his handsome face. By now my face was screwed up into a snarl of carnal frustration, my hands gripping the bars of the head rest with such force I was about to bend them, suppressing the urge to cry out to him to just get it in!

By now he was stroking me with the full length of his shaft to the point when his balls would be pressed against vaginal opening. He’d stay there for a moment and I swear I could feel his balls moving around inside his shaved sack, his pubic hair just beginning to grow back giving a slightly rough texture for me to encounter. By this point I was ready to have a stroke with the unbearable anticipation. Tears were literally escaping my eyes, my body was writhing as my vagina was clenching so tight I feared for a moment I could end up with a prolapse!

This was the moment I growled at him, giving him a look that would have given the Devil a chill down his red hot spine. In response, he just smiled, causing me to grit my teeth, ready to punch him if he didn’t get to it. He said something in Italian, that smooth baritone voice with that irresistible accent. He blew me a kiss, positioned his hips, and pushed!

Oh my GOD! That bell pushed me so wide apart it must have been like giving birth backwards! As that swollen tip pushed my vaginal walls aside, fighting against the clench which had become somewhat uncomfortable to the point of almost painful, my body responded as though I was imploding. The mixed sensation of both pain and pleasure ripped through my nervous system like he’d shoved a stick of dynamite up my fanny that exploded in slow motion!

His bell was followed by the girth of his shaft that seemed to go on forever. For a moment I thought his end would pop out through my mouth!

He pushed his entire length deep inside my body, pressing his bell against my cervix. There he stayed for an agonising handful of moments. I was expecting him to pull back and start thrusting, no, I was beyond desperate for the thrusting, instead he just stayed there, clenching his groinial muscles, making his shaft pulse and the ridge of his bell stiffen with every contraction.

By this point I was no longer occupying my body. I was hovering somewhere above us both watching the show. He continued to pulse until my vagina was literally sucking his manhood as though giving it the kiss of life to make the fucking thing work! Again he said something in his native language, then as an act of extreme mercy, pulled back and began to thrust. Slowly and deeply at first, all the way out, all the way in, out and in. His bell ridge stroking the length of my cum tunnel back and forth. Jesus fucking Christ this man loved to tease!!

“Fuck me!” I shouted.

“You feel so good,” he replied, still with that smug grin that I wanted to smack from his face by now.

“FUCK ME YOU ARSEHOLE! TEAR ME IN HALF!”

He quickened his pace holding to a steady rhythm, giving me what I needed in a gradual manor. With every thrust my body was getting spasms of pleasure that rippled through me like dropping a stone into still water. Those ripples getting more frequent as he picked up the pace, turning that water into a whirlpool of ecstasy, drawing me in to be drown in the ocean of orgasmic spirituality.

Still holding onto my legs with my feet either side of his head, he drew them closer so my arches were against his cheeks. That Mediterranean arsehole was holding himself back, waiting for the right moment to do something crafty. Before long I was ready to explode; ready to encounter an orgasm that had the power to equal the ferocity of the big bang. I could feel it building, no matter how much I wanted it; I was actually scared for a moment. I tried to wriggle myself away from him but he held firm.

The pillow under my arse caused his dick to penetrate me at a certain angle as to stimulate my G-spot. I could feel it buzzing. Oh god. This could be the best and probable the last orgasm of my life and there was no way of escaping it.

He was gauging my reactions and knew the perfect moment to strike. Just as he managed to thrust me over the edge, he began to pound my poor defenceless little pussy to oblivion, and licked my arches again!

I honestly can’t remember much after that. Terribly disappointing I know.

The next morning I awake. I’m alone in the bed all tucked up nice n cosy. I have no idea where I was or how I got there. My body felt as light as a feather drifting on a gentle breeze, my bones felt like they were made of jelly in the best possible sort of way. I felt refreshed and exhilarated, almost like I’d died of pleasure and woke up in heaven.

“Good-a morning,” came a man’s voice. My eyes focussed to see Clive sitting on a chair beside the bed in a bath robe, his dark eyes looking over me with a warmth that made me smile from ear to ear. I reached out my arms and legs and stretched until I went dizzy.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Mmm, maybe,” I yawned.

“We have breakfast yes? Then we have breakfast.”

“Breakfast, then breakfast?”

“Si,” he said standing up and removing his robe. He was completely naked and fully erect. Before I could say anything he was clambering beneath the sheets and positioning himself between my legs. I felt his hot breath against my labia, his lips presented his tongue and I gasped.

There’s no better way to start the day than with an Italian kiss for breakfast.