Elizabeth's Roman Awakening Ch. 01

1.

Elizabeth Perry knew from the moment they emerged from the train station after the short trip from Fiumicino Airport, that things were going to be different in her life. She and her husband Michael had spent their honeymoon in the Eternal City 18 years ago, and it had been a magically romantic time. So much had happened since then, and much of it had conspired dampened their romantic life, turning it into dull routine. They had raised their only daughter who was back in the States with Elizabeth's sister and that plus the burdens of finances and elder care had consumed much of their life. There simply wasn't much time left over for the kind of wild uninhibited sex they shared during their late teen and college years.

But now here they were, footloose for a nine month assignment courtesy of her husband Michael's government agency. There were no kids around and no household chores and they were free to go a little wild -- not too wild Elizabeth reminded herself. After all, she was now 41 and a mature woman. She had been working out in the gym for a sold 4 months before the trip and was now back to her college trim. Looking at herself nude in the full length mirror a day ago, she had to admit she looked pretty damned good. She was a petite 5 feet, 4 inches with a waist and perky size 34 breasts, tipped by dusky upturned nipples. When she turned to look over her shoulder at her butt, she smacked her ass and winked saucily at her reflected image.

She had invested a few hundred dollars in new dresses and skirts from Nordstrom and explicit lingerie from Victoria Secrets and she intended to put them to give them a good use. Packing them carefully the night before the trip she thought to herself, "If this doesn't get me laid every night, then something is wrong with Michael." She knew that having wild sex every night with her husband was not a likely prospect as Rome was only a convenient base of operations. He would be traveling every other week to locations all over Africa and the Middle East and she would just have to make the best use of the time he was with her in the little flat they had rented for their time in Rome.

After a typically wild taxi ride from the station to the Piazza Navona, they lugged their bags down a narrow side street and found the front door to the flat. They arrived breathless and stood there perspiring under the Roman sun as Michael fumbled for the keys. Elizabeth smiled at her husband admiringly as he produced the large key, its polished brass gleaming in the bright light. After jiggling the lock for several seconds, they were inside and began the laborious process of dragging their several suitcases up the long flight of stairs to their home for the next several months.

They were both tired and sweaty and Elizabeth began moving from room to room opening the windows and throwing back the shutters to catch the mid-afternoon breezes. When she reached the bedroom, she stopped for a moment to look down onto the street admiring the view. From her high vantage point, she could see a street vendor selling roasted chestnuts, a couple of bistros where the patrons were all sitting outside in the ambient warmth, protected from the spring sunshine by wide cloth awnings. She noticed clutch of young men, all black standing on the corner leading to their flat and thought they looked rather dangerous but at the same time kind of attractive in a rough and muscular sort of way. She noticed that two of the men had their arms loosely draped around a pair of olive skinned white girls with coal black hair, one of whom was obviously several weeks pregnant. She shook her head and her nose wrinkled in disgust.

She caught sight of another black male turning onto the street, out for an afternoon jog. She admired the way the sweat coated his coal black skin, making it shine in the sunlight. He wore a silky sleeveless shirt and cut-away running shorts. As her eyes traveled up from his powerfully flexing legs, she could not fail to notice his manhood swaying from side to side under the scant cover afforded him by the glossy shorts. She could almost imagine she could see the head of it where the red piping stood out against the grey background of the shorts. His skin was incredibly dark she noticed, far blacker than the few black men she had ever bother to notice back home in Indiana. She decided he must be from Africa itself, rather than "African with a hyphen" as in "African-American", an expression she had always disliked.

Her eyes traveled up the slit sides of the shorts and she admired his cut waist and broad chest. Strangely, her mouth began to water involuntarily as she continued to stare at him passing their flat. When she noticed this she frowned, as if disapproving of her body's autonomous reaction. She retreated a tiny bit from the window as he jogged just then in front of the flat. She didn't want to be caught in the act of ogling a strange man. As he continued up the street she became aware of Michael' footsteps on the creaky floor and that snapped her out of her daydream. She shook the thought of the jogger out of her head. What was she doing, she asked herself mentally, staring at a man, and a black man at that. She had never had the slightest interest in black men, and anyway, didn't she have a perfectly fine and caring husband? That, she decided, was more than enough for any woman.

All the time she had been staring down with rapt attention at the street scene, Michael had been standing in the threshold of the room admiring his wife of 18 years and the way she filled out the sheer green sleeveless dress. He could see the outline of her legs silhouetted by the streaming sunlight through the summer weight material and his penis began to spring to attention. He liked the sheen of sweat on her skin and the way it made her face and neck glow, and gave her lightly muscled arms definition. He continued to admire her as she seemed to be watching someone or something as it passed the flat, her head swiveling slowly from left to right.

Michael approached her from behind. He began to kiss her neck with warm liquid kisses. He loved the way her skin felt under his thin lips -- so warm and vibrant, so soft and sensual. He could feel her pulse under his lips and noticed her breathing quicken. He brushed the hair back from her face and moved tight to her body so that she could feel his rapidly swelling penis against her buttocks. He whispered into her exposed ear, saying "Someone is feeling mighty nice today."

She moaned a little and smiled at his comment. As they continued to stand at the open window, a slight breeze banged the shutters open against the stucco of the exterior and raised goose bumps on her skin. Michael started nibbling on her ear, and experimentally licked it with his tongue. He ran his hands up her arms then reached inside the openings at the side of her dress. He started massaging her pert breasts through the arm holes of the dress. It felt incredibly good to Elizabeth and she swayed slightly as he massaged her.

Her face and neck grew red with her excitement and her nipples began to stand out, hard and proud against the satiny material of her bra. He reached under the hem of her dress with his right hand and lifted it up until he could cup her mound. She felt surprising wet at the apex of her thighs. He decided that he must be doing a far better job than usual at turning her on. He pushed aside the crotch of her her panties, and felt the soft downy hair covering her mons. His small hand raked the panties down from her soft thighs and with a flourish he pulled them off as she deftly stepped out of them one leg at a time.

He held the sheer pink thong style panties in the air in front her triumphantly then pulled them to his face and breathed deeply of his wife's womanly nectar. Tossing them aside, unzipped her dress from behind and the vaguely metallic sound of her dress parting added excitement to his feeling of conquest. Kissing her openly at the nape of her neck, he tasted the sweat from her skin and licked her with his open tongue. He slid her bra strap down with one hand while massaging her rapidly swelling clit with the other. His fingers found one nipple and he began tugging it and twirling it between his fingers.

Eyes close dreamily, she leaned back against him and sighed excitedly. With both hands, she reached behind her and cupped, then squeezed his member. Though he was small enough to cover with one hand, she worked both hands up and down through the material of his linen trousers. With his other hand, Michael unpinned her bra and she shrugged it down.

Now her breasts were exposed to the cool breeze and the warming rays of the sun and tiny thrills ran through her body. She had always known that her nipples and breasts were "hot-wired" to her pussy and now her vaginal lips were rapidly becoming swollen with excitement. Michael reached up with his fine, small hands covered much of her exposed breasts. She swayed with excitement and she turned her head to the side to openly suck her husband's offered tongue with her lush and now enlarged lips.

Elizabeth deftly loosened his belt and buttons and busily pulled his trousers down. As they plopped silently to the floor, he felt her hands sliding over his slender member, now fully aroused. He moaned in excitement and squeezed her breasts to show his appreciation.

Unknown and unnoticed by both of them, the clutch of young black men in the street were now staring fixedly up at them and gesturing excitedly and commenting in rapid fire Italian. One of them was cupping the breasts of the young pregnant woman beside him, mimicking the scene above. The noise of their banter grew louder by degrees and with a sudden start, Elizabeth opened her eyes in horror, realizing that they were standing in front of the open window and being observed. With a sudden violent motion, she screamed and yanked Michael's hands from her body and exploded into a stream of curses.

Michael didn't understand at first. His rapidly deflating penis reflected his confusion until he saw one the girls below laughing and holding her thumb and forefinger together in a tiny pinching motion. His already ruddy face reddened even further as he hid his shrunken member behind his hands and backed away from the window, tripping over his pants and falling to the floor.

He laughed at himself and the situation and looked up plaintively at Elizabeth. He lifted himself awkwardly to a standing position, then hurried over to shutter the window, again drawing hoots over derision from the group of black men and their Italian women.

Michael turned to Elizabeth and shrugged. She was standing in the middle of the room with her dress down to her waist and her hands covering her breasts. She looked angrily in his direction as though the entire incident had been his fault. He could see the fire in her eyes as they flooded with tears and she mouthed through her clenched jaw, "Damn it Michael, I have never been so humiliated in my entire life. Those black men saw everything. Everything!"

Michael pulled his briefs and trousers back up. Taking her hand tenderly, he tried to recapture the lost moment. He smiled at her and said, "Honey, it was just a silly incident. Come to bed with me so we can mess around. Let's not let the opportunity go to waste. I have to leave for Lagos, Nigeria first thing in the morning. Come on, Sweetie."

He kissed her hand tenderly, but she jerked it away, saying, "Look, the moment is gone. Please don't try to force it. Let's just get our stuff unpacked and put away so I can get you ready for tomorrow."

Then relenting a bit, she smiled at him, and stroked his face softly. She whispered, "Honey, I am not angry with you. It's just that we are in a foreign country, and that whole thing was embarrassing. What if those guys hang on that corner every day and I have to walk past them. You know?"

She wasn't in the mood for sex, but she knew he was easily taken care of. She moved in close and threw her arms around him, kissing him full on the the mouth. They lingered in the kiss, their tongues touching and lips tightly locked in a passionate kiss. Elizabeth started to unbutton his shirt then ran her hand over his slender chest and sensitive nipples. She broke the kiss, then began insistently tugging on his trousers.

Michael closes his eyes as she sank to her knees, kissing his small member through the material of his pants. Now on her knees, she looked up at him as she pulled his pants down and yanked on his briefs. His penis sprang free from its confines and pointed straight out. It was now at a full 4 inches and without speaking a word Elizabeth took the shaft in her free hand, and began stroking him lazily.

She hardly ever gave him oral, but today it seemed like the quickest way to take care of his urges with a minimum of effort. Her hand covered his shaft completely and she began to lick his shaft and balls with long strokes of her tongue. She always hated deep throating him because there was a chance he might cum in her mouth, which was strictly off limits for her.

Today though, she felt the need to give him something extra for having reacted with such anger. She switched from licking to sucking and in one motion, took his entire shaft in her mouth. She worked the soft head with her tongue and was rewarded with gasps and moans from her husband, who was now teetering from side to side as she quickened her pace. She tasted his pre-cum, which she never much cared for the taste of. That was always the signal for her to finish him off with her hand. She slowly backed her mouth from his swollen red member and began stroking him with a long motion of her hand, making sure to stretch his skin back really hard toward his body. After a few repetitions, she felt him start to spasm. She pointed his slender penis up towards his abdomen and watched as a few drops spurted forth toward his navel.

He gasped and said, "Oh yes. . . Thank you!" to his wife, who was now using his leg to steady herself as she stood again. She looked back at him and gave him a little smile as she started wheeling one of the cases into the bedroom, leaving him to clean the cum from his belly.

The rest of the day was spent in unpacking and arranging the furniture to accommodate their preferences. Michael hummed a mindless tune, content in the way the day seemed to be shaping up. They dined at the closest trattoria on their street, and went to bed early, cuddling in the narrow bed. Elizabeth waved him off early the next morning and stared out onto the street, silent in the near dawn.

2.

Michael had been gone over a week now. Elizabeth had spoken to him only once and the connection from Africa was incredibly poor, so their conversation was constrained to a couple sentences shouted in each direction. She thought she had heard him say he would be gone longer than expected and not to expect him on Friday as planned. She sighed and hung up after the line went dead and she got no ring back within a few minutes. She had cleaned and tidied their place so that it was immaculate, but she was growing a bit bored; there was only so much cleaning to be done.

Besides, she was feeling sufficiently confident in her ability to communicate in broken Italian and to go further afield than the corner green grocer. The day was bright and breezy and she decided to visit the Capitoline Museum, which was within walking distance of their place off the Piazza. She tried on several dresses before deciding on a summery green mid length dress, it showed a little too much cleavage she thought, but what was the point of being in Rome if you couldn't flaunt it a bit. She pulled on a sheer black thong which made her feel even more daring and sexy. Smoothing her dress down, she found a pair of low heels, then checked herself in the small mirror by the front door one last time, and stepped out onto the St. Peter's blocks on her narrow street.

The traffic was insane as always in Rome with scores of Fiat 500s treating the city streets as though they were a racing circuit. After waiting 10 minutes to cross the via Argentina, she did what all Roman pedestrians do, she simply stepped out into the street and let the drivers dodge around her. Coming up fast behind her was a tall, well dressed black man.

When they had both trotted safely to the opposing side of the street, he laughed and said something to her in Italian. She smiled back shyly and shook her head, saying, "Sorry, I'm afraid my Italian is not that good."

He looked surprised and responded in English, "Sorry, you looked Italian to me, so I just naturally thought . . . "

He shrugged, palms up and continued to walk beside her, matching her pace. Elizabeth then realized that he was the jogger she had seen several times from the second storey window of their flat. She was torn between ignoring him and responding to his remark. She chose the latter, perhaps out of boredom and not having anyone to speak English to for days. She responded, "You think I look Italian?"

He shrugged again and replied, "I could say that you all look alike to me. Isn't that what most white people say about blacks?"

Elizabeth's jaw dropped, and before she could censor herself, she blurted out, "Oh no, not true. In fact you look quite distinctive to me! In fact I have seen you jogging past my place several times now, and believe me you're quite unmistakable!"

Suddenly realizing that her remark might be taken the wrong way, her face reddened and she stammered, "I-I-mean, I have seen you in your running shorts a lot. I mean . . . Oh god, I don't know what I mean. I'm sorry, let me just stop saying stupid things. In fact, let me just stop, period."

He laughed, a broad smile lighting up his ebony features. He patted her back reassuringly, "It's ok. I understand. At least I think I do. Anyway, I think you look rather distinctive as well. I would never mistake you for someone else either."

They came to another corner, this time there was a policeman directing traffic, so they waited for his signal. Elizabeth wanted to keep the conversation going, so she asked, "Anyway, what did you mean when you said you thought I was Italian?"

He gestured expansively with his large hands and again flashed his brilliantly white teeth in a broad smile, then said, "Well, you have that dark hair and that alabaster skin and dark eyes like Northern Italian women have, and an incredible figure to go with it. You move with that kind of sexual grace that only Italian women seem to have."

He started to say more, and then thought that perhaps he had already said too much. He had taken an instant liking to this attractive woman, and he could already feel a stirring between his legs, but he didn't want to appear too forward. He offered apologetically, "I'm sorry, now it's my turn to be embarrassed. I meant what I said, but perhaps it was too forward of me."

Now Elizabeth's fair skin turned a darker shade of red that he could see descending down into her scoop neck dress. She stopped mid stride, turned to face him and said, "No, it's ok. I understand how you meant it, and I am very flattered by it. I am actually from America, from a place called Indiana, but it's nice that you thought I was Italian."

For the first time, she took him in visually. He was well over six feet tall perhaps, 6 feet, two or three inches. He looked solid as a rock and filled out the two piece grey suit he was wearing as though it had been custom tailored for his muscular frame. She had never looked at a black man as, well, a 'man' before, she thought to herself, but now she stood there taking stock of him in the way a woman does when she is obviously interested an a man. She remembered seeing him in the short jogging pants and thinking he was really 'hung', but she banished the thought as soon as it flew into her mind.