Kitten & Father in Florence Ch. 03

"More like Marlie."

"I should know?" he whispered.

"Just said it."

"Guess you know, lovely," he whispered.

He then looked down at the bronze plaque lower down on the base and smiled at the female nude on it. She nodded and whispered: "Don't have to say it."

Her father nodded, smiling at her as they turned together. After a couple of steps, then he did:

"Very nice, like, well, you know."

She nodded again: that bronze girl had breasts more like hers, rounder than the just 'nice' ones of the girls whose were like Marlie's. It was too obvious that they were father and daughter, but she wanted to hold his hand as they walked across the square. Their hands just brushed, and they smiled at each other. She felt her nipples pop out again; they didn't need to hold hands; they were both enjoying themselves with about the same thoughts.

They found a small restaurant and shared a half liter of wine with their meal. When he said again that that had been fun, they both smirked slightly. After a better sip of wine, she murmured:

"I'm not going to wear it tomorrow."

"Uh-oh! How many times?"

"Countless. Hm-hmm! Today, but tomorrow maybe just once, the whole time."

Her father feigned a scowl. She smiled sweetly and asked:

"What do we want to do now?"

"See another museum," he replied quickly, but with a slight smirk, adding:

"The Bargello, a great collection of important things, but maybe that will be fun too."

"Hmm? Not what I was thinking, but I hope so," she murmured.

"I thought so," he agreed and refilled their glasses.

Exchanging glances, they drank and finished their meal, then emptied their glasses. He paid, and they set off to find the museum. In the courtyard, they sat down with their guide book, putting their heads together to read the long and varied history of the building. When their fingers touched under the binding, his slipped over hers. "Um-hmm," she responded softly, liking that he really had known what she had been thinking in the restaurant. Of course, they weren't going to go back to their hotel in the middle of the day, but then ... They finished reading about the building and looked up, immediately seeing marble statues on the far wall of the courtyard.

"Enough reading," he said with a smile, and they went to look at them, especially the large standing nude woman. They exchanged smiles and read the label: Juno. He looked at it. She thought he was trying to appear more knowledgeable about Renaissance art than he was. When he turned away, he said out loud: "Very nice, in every respect."

She had to repress a chuckle, knowing that he was referring to her nice breasts and mons veneris. They went in the large ground floor room. After a glance around at all the statues, he murmured: "This is going to be fun."

She nodded with slight grin. They didn't immediately seek out the female nudes, respectfully looking at other statues. When they were looking at the first nude male, he murmured that she didn't have to say it, and she nodded: too small. Donatello's bronze David also wasn't very well endowed, but she remembered that he was still supposed a young boy when he slew Goliath. Bandinelli's marble Adam was a little better, but his Eve earned another "very nice," as did another well-developed female.

Then they both had to find the toilets and hurried pass other statues. On the way across the courtyard, out of earshot of others, her father suggested:

"Maybe all Italian girls are like that - your kitten - the Greek ones too, since the Romans copied Greek statues."

"Hmm? You want to look at tight pants tomorrow?"

"Just a thought," he replied apologetically.

In the toilet stall, after she had gone, she stood up and looked down at herself and slid her hand over her pubic hair, pleased to feel that she did indeed have a mons veneris like the statues. Then she chuckled, wondering if her father was comparing what he had with what the male statues had. She pulled up her panties and shorts, tempted to take off her bra, but her purse wasn't big enough to hold it. As she left the ladies room, she remembered his last remark and recalled having seen the two Italian girls in the school in the showers after sports. She snickered; they both weren't like that. Even through their hair, she had recognized that, just never thought about it, but now she was, and pleased that she was like the sculptors ideal - and her father's.

He was waiting for her on the landing to the stairs to the upper galleries, and apparently had heard her snicker, giving her a quizzical smile. She grinned and murmured:

"They aren't all like that, not the two Italians in the school."

"But you are," he murmured with slight grin, and they started up the stairs.

"Um-hmm, I looked, ... and Marlie, too," she murmured with smirk.

They chuckled and dutifully went through the rooms upstairs - no statues or nude paintings. That took them around the building to the open gallery that did have a couple of statues, one a large marble of a seated woman. Even at a distance, seeing her in profile, he hummed and said

"Quite nice, don't you think?"

"Oh yes, 'quite nice," she agreed, understanding that he thought her breasts weren't "very nice."

They approached her, both trying to show just polite interest. They had been right, she thought, her breasts weren't as big as her own, but still quite nice, like the rest of her. The sculptor had captured very realistically the way she had one foot hooked behind her other leg.

"Walleyed" he murmur, and she recognized that he was referring to her nipples, which were pointed away from each other - not pointing like her own were trying to. They read the label: L'Architetturra by Giambologna, 1580. They looked at her for a few moments, then her father hummed. She glanced at him, seeing his slight grin. He looked over at her and murmured:

"Tell you later," and grinned more broadly.

They had been through the whole museum and went down the broad, outside stairway to the courtyard. They left the building. On the street, she looked at him quizzically and asked:

"Tell me."

He nodded for them to walk away from other tourists. When they were, he snickered with another grin and said:

"If she is supposed to represent architecture, or be the muse for architects, well, I can imagine what kind of erections she would inspire."

"Oh, Daddy! Is that all you think about?!"

"Wasn't I supposed to?"

"Yes!" she agreed with a grin.

They both hummed with smirks and turned to go back to their hotel. On the way, he remarked:

"I wonder if that pun works in Italian."

"Hmm? Don't think the word is in our guide book."

"Hm-hmm! I can ask the girl at the reception desk."

"Draw her a picture?"

"Guess I would have to; couldn't show her one, not in the lobby."

"Bet you couldn't, in the lobby, even if you dared to."

"No, you're right, so I guess we'll never know."

"Mmmm! But you can show me."

"With your help?"

"How'd you guess?"

They chuckled and walked faster. She thought to herself, don't have to ask again: what do we want to do now? As they strode along, she wondered what they would do, aware of her nipples and moist pussy. There was still lots of time before dinner; they could do anything, everything they wanted - that he wanted. Before they reached the hotel, she had played through all the variations she could imagine, all very arousing. What was he going to think, when he saw her damp panties? Hopefully her shorts weren't also damp! Would they have to go to the bathroom first? Oh, she wanted him to lick her kitten and then fuck her. Selfish thought! And he had said that he wasn't sure that he didn't like her to suck his cock and to come in her mouth as much as he liked to fuck her. But the way they had fucked the night before had to have been better. Whatever he wanted.

Before they entered the hotel, they slowed down, and he casually asked for the key to their room. They waited for the elevator, hardly looking at each other. When they were in it, however, she moaned and pressed her thighs together. He nodded and murmured: "Me too."

In their room, they both immediately started to undress. When she unzipped her shorts, she felt down in her crotch, yes, a little moist. He had unzipped his pants. When he stepped out of them, she saw that his cock was pressing against his shorts. She moaned with a sigh, catching the elastic of her panties to pull them down with her shorts. As she stepped out of them, he pulled his shorts down, and his cock bobbed out. She moaned again and separated her shorts and panties, holding her panties up a little and murmuring:

"They're all wet."

"Mmmm! I want to taste why, where."

"Just what I was hoping," she replied.

They both sighed and took off their shirts - and she, her bra - as fast as they could. She stared at his cock and balls. Of course, his cock was now much bigger than any on the statues, but his loose sack and balls also were.

"Not 'too small'," she murmured.

"But 'very nice, in every respect'," he replied, his eyes shifting from her aroused nipples to her pussy and back, and then to her face, then murmuring:

"My Kitten, her kitten, the ideal of all classical sculptors."

She blushed at his flattering comparison and instinctively covered her breasts. He smiled slightly with a moan, and then turned to the nearest bed and drew back the covers, nodding for her to lie down. He didn't want her to sit on his face. Any way he wanted. She moved towards the bed, and he dropped to his knees, his cock bobbing. Like that, lying across the bed. She did, grabbing the pillow and stuffing it under her head. Had she ever wanted her pussy licked as much as she did now?! She drew her thighs up, spreading them. Yes, even this way she could see her mons veneris swell between her thighs - and his cock, before his hips dropped down on his feet. He leaned down to get his face between her thighs on the low bed.

And then his mouth was all over her, not yet licking between her pussy lips, just playing in her hair, exploring over her whole swelling, as though he had to assure himself with his mouth and tongue that his visual image had been correct. Oh, she knew it was! But she wanted her pussy to be licked. She was about to push his head down, when his tongue began to find its way through her hairs. She moaned, and then felt it on her bare skin, lapping down between her pussy lips. She moaned - finally!

She had been thinking about it for so long, anticipating, already so aroused! And now his tongue was arousing her more, searching for more to taste. Thank goodness! If he started to flick it over her aroused little knob, she was afraid she would come before she could enjoy this as long as she wanted to. Then it did flick up. She moaned, and her hips twitched. Not yet! What could she do to stop him? She drew her knees back further, rocking her pussy up, hoping his tongue would find her wet hole again.

Had he nodded, understanding what she was thinking? Whatever, his tongue was back probing in her. It must be longer than Pierre's had been; it probed and wiggled, really in her. When it slipped out, she saw him lick his lips and heard him hum. She thought that he might glance up at her, but he didn't, just staring at her pussy, her pretty pink pussy. Had Mars stared at Venus's pussy that way - Botticelli, at his favorite model's? Maybe, why he didn't want to let anyone else see it in his paintings, well, of course not the way her father was looking at hers. She hummed at the thought that he found hers so attractive.

Then he did look up at her with an intense expression, just smiling slightly as he nodded. She unconsciously also nodded, and his face dropped down, his open mouth sucking onto the top of her pussy, and his tongue flicking there. Her hips twitched again, and she moaned. It felt so good, so arousing, but she still didn't want it so soon.

"Not yet!" she blurted softly and grasped her shins and drew her knees down beside her breasts. This time he really did nod. His tongue lapped down to her wet hole again, probing. She nodded with an um-hmm. Then his tongue lapped further down. He wanted to do that too?! She tried to roll her hips even further up. She couldn't really, but she didn't need to; his tongue slid over her tight little hole, making it twitch. She moaned with a nod, feeling his tongue explore. When her asshole tightened and relaxed, and again, she heard him chuckle and felt the tip of his tongue probe.

She knew it couldn't probe like his finger could, but it felt like it wanted to, and felt so good. Was he wanting to do that, until she told him to lick her pussy again, since she had asked him before to stop? Enough waiting now. She let her legs rise up, rolling her hips back down a little. His tongue immediately slid back up, just plunging once in her wet hole, and then his open mouth was where it had been before, pressed around the front of her pussy, trying to seal his lips around it so that he could suck. His tongue flicked and caressed. She gave a pulsing moan.

"God, yes, now!"

She realized that she had said what she was thinking. He nodded with a hum and began to nibble and to lick even more intensely. She let go of her legs and grabbed the back of his head with both hands, clamping his mouth on her. His hands slid up her sides and found her breasts, his fingers finding her so stiff nipples. She approved with an extra moan, and his fingers squeezed, pinched and pulled on them. They were going to be sore, but she wanted the almost painful additional arousal - anything, everything that could make her pending orgasm better.

She locked his head to her twitching hips and began to gasp and whimper. Her thighs were flapping, wanting to spread and let her pelvis rock up on his mouth, but having to snap together on his head. When she was about to have her orgasm, they wanted to hold something between them: his head, Marlie's or Pierre's, or especially a man fucking her! Her father's head right now!

She whimpered and gasped, and then her body convulsed, her hips rising off the mattress, as she felt her pussy juice squirt. Finally! And he was moaning. She felt his tongue slide down to try to catch some of it. He loved it as much she did, tasting Marlie's or her own, when she managed to use her fingers good enough. But this was so much better!

Her body convulsed again. When his head pressed back against her hands, they clasped it back between her thighs. He moaned with a nod and made her convulse again. She groaned loudly and her hands relaxed, her whole body did, her feet dropping to the floor, as she gasped and sighed with softer moans.

He cupped his fingers around her breasts, just holding them, and looked up at her face, but her eyes were closed, her stomach rising and falling with her deep breaths.

When she could think again, she remembered that she had thought that if he did that, she would still want him to fuck her. She wasn't so sure now, but he must want to, and he was still holding her breasts, waiting. She put her hands on his, and opened her eyes. Did his expression suggest that he wanted to? He must. Fuck, his cock in her pussy. She chuckled, suddenly remembering again his wondering if her sucking his cock was better than fucking. She wasn't sure that she didn't have the same question now, after how good he had licked her pussy.

"What's funny?" he asked.

"Nothing really," she replied: "tell you later. Fuck me, before he forgets."

"You really want to?"

"I will. Yes, I want to, want you to," she replied, drawing her legs back up.

"He does too," he murmured and rose up on his knees.

His cock was just level with her pussy, but he had to raise it a little guide it to her pussy. It was still stiff enough for him to push it in her slippery wet hole. They both hummed, smiling at each other. She consciously squeezed it and murmured:

"See, my pussy wants it to."

"Hmm! It must."

He hummed and moved it in her. She nodded, humming, and said:

"Just like that, like this."

"Um-hmm, perfect, like this," he agreed and gave her a longer stroke, as though to demonstrated that the bed was just the right height for him to fuck her, then continuing with shorter ones.

"Perfect. Hm-hmm! You were wondering if you didn't like me doing it to you more than this way."

"I think we settled that last night; couldn't have been better."

"It sure was, but while you were doing it now, I began to wonder if I didn't like that at least as much; it was so good."

"I loved it, love to do it, especially when it's so ... rewarding."

"Mmmm! Like I do too - so 'rewarding'."

Her father was continuing to fuck her gently, their conversation interspersed with mild moans, when her pussy contracted or his cock twitched. One and then the other had happened after her last remark. After their moans, he smirked and said:

"'Like I do too.' You mean just like I do, with Marlie?"

"Hmm? Hm-hmm! Probably, yeah, sure, but I was thinking about doing it to you."

"But you like to do it with her?"

"Of course! If you like to do it with me, why shouldn't we two enjoy it just as much."

"Can't argue with that, just never really thought about it, and certainly didn't expect you would be telling me."

"Like we both didn't expect that we would be doing this," she suggested, glancing down at his hips, that were moving his cock in her pussy. They took a longer stroke, slapping against her ass. Both moaned. Then he said:

" And I'm glad we are," and fondled her breasts.

"Not more than I am," she murmured, looking up at him with a dreamy expression and clasping her hands over his.

He nodded and fucked her gently, both silent for many slow strokes. She sighed with a moan and murmured:

"I just love this, this way. I was thinking I wanted you to just pound it into me, and both come as soon as we could, especially for you."

"We might have, if you hadn't insisted that I not stop. I don't think I was going to ask you if you wanted me to - just do it, hoping you wouldn't mind. Kind of selfishly thoughtless."

"I wouldn't have minded, but this is so much better, and talking about it."

He nodded with earnest expression, his hips moving almost automatically, and replied:

"Very!" then murmuring: "And the talking; never did before."

"Pity, it's so nice. Why not?"

Her father smiled wryly and shrugged - still fucking - and replied:

"Just didn't. Sort of: one didn't talk about that, just did it."

Then he grinned and added:

"Besides, back then, I probably came before much could be said."

"Mmmm! I'm glad this isn't 'back then'."

"Me too! Never thought I could do this for so long, especially in your tight pussy; must be getting old."

"You could have; not getting old, we just didn't, don't want to - yet."

"Should have tried talking back then, might have helped."

"But I like that this is a sort of 'first time' then."

"Hmmm!" he nodded, agreeing: "It is, and I like it just as much."

Her pussy contracted, and his cock surged, and they both moaned, nodding with smiles. He chuckled and remarked:

"Just don't do that too often, or I will."

"Mmmm! And if I can't help it?"

Her pussy squeezed his cock again. He feigned a scowl and replied:

"Then I'm going to have fuck you like you thought we were going to."

"Mmmm! That's not such a bad idea!"

"Fucking my daughter?"

"Not if you do it that good," she countered and drew her thighs up and hooked her feet behind his waist.

"If that makes it a good idea," he murmured and leaned down over her.

"It does," she murmured and wrapped her arms around him, raising her face for a kiss.

For a few moments, just their tongues were fucking in one and then the other's mouth. Then his hips began rock. She moaned with an emphatic nod. Instinctively, her hips rocked to let his cock thrust deeper in her pussy. Of course, it had been arousing to feel his cock gently fuck, while they had been talking, but how could she have waited so long for his really fucking her? He was now, and how he was! His hips weren't just rocking. His knees couldn't still be on the floor; his hips were pounding against her ass, his hands clutched under her shoulders to keep the hammering of his hips from shoving her whole body back. And in her pussy! Pierre's cock had never plunged so fast and hard and deep in her clutching pussy!