I step out into the Tuscan air, black lycra panties and cotton tank-top to match. Bare feet absorb the sun-soaked warmth of the masonry. The transition from the cool airconditioning to the humid, late-afternoon heat of Tuscany in August gives me a soothing chill.Twenty-five acres of working vineyard floods my view. Row after row of gnarly grapevines stripes the rolling hills, softly bending with the contour of the earth. The broad leaves of the vines, a deep rich green, reflect the golden hue of a fat setting sun. In the distance, elysian fields of sunflowers crane their heads to catch the dwindling light. I palm the railing, rise to my tiptoes and fill my lungs with her petrichor, sweet and dewy and heavy.Some workers here and there file in with the day's harvest. Two thick elderly women pass below; scowls etched deep into their weathered leathery faces. Each is clothed head to toe in traditional garb as if the heat itself is too intimidated to affect them. Their gloved hands share. My fireman pulled me round to a 69, and licked and drank of my nectar yet again. This time we both came like trains (forgive the pun). ‘I’ve only known you a few hours. I’ve only known your name for less than an hour, and I’m falling in love with you Cassie.’ ‘I thought it was just me, and I still don’t know your name.’ I laughed as we cuddled and relaxed. ‘It’s Alex — and I think you just made me very happy.’ The beaming smile warmed my heart. I reached out and caressed her breast again. Then trailed down the ridges and hollows, over the blonde curls and into her slick wetness. I didn’t think she’d come a fourth time, but I was wrong. ‘That’s for not telling me you’re my room mate, Alexandra.’ I said with mock severity. ‘Sorry. We didn’t need to lock the door. Alex came anyway.’ She grinned wickedly and shoved her fingers into my pussy. We both came again together. What a weekend. We wowed the customers and their children. Lots of excited smiling happy faces. We ran the trains.
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