Mud Honey

This is a submission to Literotica's 2020 Nude Day Contest. It is an erotic tale of pure escapism. It's a walk through Tuscany; a tale of romance, passion...and mud. Votes are appreciated.

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In the dry Tuscany hills sits the quiet Italian village of Saturnia. It is famous for its systems of hot springs. People come from all over the world to wade in these hydrothermal springs as it's benefits of soothing aches and pains from soaking in are legendary. A few kilometers east of Saturnia is a farm owned by the Rossi family for over a hundred years. The family has made a living from their lemon grove and honey from tended bee hives. But there is a hidden gem on the Rossi farm and that treasure comes in the form of mud.

There's a dirt road that skirts the Rossi's lemon grove which leads to the ruins of an ancient Roman spa. Fed by the same geothermal system as the Saturnia hot springs, the Rossi mud bath is a marvel of ancient Roman Empire engineering. The mud bath is a perfectly circular pit lined with cut granite slabs placed there many centuries ago and worn smooth from use and time. In the middle of the step down cone shaped pit, the hot spring water gently bubbles up from a hole at the structure's bottom. It's large enough to comfortably seat eight adults where the mud reaches just below the collar bone of the average man. It was always the family's belief that that the structure was originally an abandoned hot springs' soaking tub which became filled with ash from the Vulsini volcano eruption of 104 BC. The mud has the gritty consistency and color of brownie batter. It heats to around thirty degrees Celsius or around a hundred degrees Fahrenheit. The temperature keeps it sterile. For the last eighty years, the Rossis have permitted local people upon property to soak in the warm mud to soothe muscles and provide relief to various skin ailments. But, as with most small towns, the young people moved away, the elderly are dying off and the Rossi's mud bath became secret once more. That was until Gianetta came to town.

Gianetta Luoni was a beautiful young woman with full cheeks, high cheekbones, almond shaped golden brown eyes, dusty pink lips and body curves worthy of a goddess. Her walk bewitched men. The twenty two year old art school graduate worked in Venice where she sold Venetian glass to tourists in a quaint little shop near St. Mark's square. On a busy Saturday afternoon in 1982, Paolo Rossi, a twenty six year old architect visiting from Rome, entered her shop to buy a souvenir for his mother. He was a tall man with a neatly trimmed beard, chestnut hair gelled in place and a gorgeous smile. Gianetta became smitten with the easy going man with deep blue eyes. She sold him a water pitcher she'd blown herself. She watched him leave the shop and wanted to run after him, but the shop was full of tourists so she sighed with a broken heart and smiled as a customer handed her a paperweight to wrap. But as luck would have it, Paolo had become bewitched. He returned ten minutes later and asked her out for dinner. They married the following year. Two years after their marriage, they moved into the house on the Rossi's Tuscany property that Paolo inherited from his uncle. The two had been contemplating a simpler more natural country life far from city crowds. She wanted space for an artist loft and saw the potential in the property's deserted barn. He thought it'd be a great place to raise a family. He'd spent a few summers here as a child and had nothing but fond memories. They were pleased to move into the hundred year old two story stucco family farm house sat below the two lane highway and was hidden by overgrown saplings. It was the perfect.

Though Paolo continued to make money from his architectural renderings, he loved nature and reveled in country life. He developed a passion for bee keeping and learned how to tend the hives from his uncle's good bee keeping friend who's been tending the hives for over twenty years. Gianetta became intrigued by the mud pit at the ruins and took charge of that area. She swept away the dirt to reveal stone paved ground and removed brush to reveal the stubs of broken columns and forgotten rectangular slabs of mined granite left by the Romans. She cleaned the mud pit of debris before covering it with netting which she weighted down around the pit's edge with large rocks. Paolo studied the ruins and, according to the circular placement of broken columns and granite blocks, he came up a supposition that the area was not only a hot tub for a wealthy family or high ranking military man, it may've also been a small private temple of worship. Paolo and Gianetta discussed reporting the ruins to the antiquities office but feared they'd want to excavate the site or the government would deem it a national treasure open to the public or close it off altogether under some kind of preservation policy. They decided to keep it to themselves. Whatever mosaic tile or antiquities which lay beneath meters of dirt will remain there intact.

Once the area was tidy and clear, Gianetta had Paolo run a hose from the grove's irrigation system on which he attached a high powered nozzle to wash off after a mud bath. Gianetta began taking nude mud baths in the winter. Sitting shoulder high, encased in warmth, she'd smear some over her face and neck and soak for no more than twenty minutes. After a few months, she noticed her skin had become blemish free, tighter, and softer. Little nagging aches and pains in her fingers and back were soothed away. Whenever she drove the farm's old truck into town, the women gushed over her skin as Gianetta was the village's most beautiful woman. They asked for her secret and she invited them to the property for a mud bath. As it became more popular with the locals, she began to charge five Euros for a sit in the mud pool. Pain sufferers got in for free. Gianetta, ever the entrepreneur, went to the nearby spas and invited spa and hotel owners to the Rossi mud pool. And as they sat in the mud, she pitched the idea that their clientele, who flock to the town and spas during the summer, would love this experience. After they hosed off on the sun heated paving stones, they sat in plastic chairs while Gianetta served them chilled water with a sprig of mint to hydrate their bodies before serving them a shot of homemade lemoncello. Afterwards, they rode back to their cars parked in a gravel lot in front of the house where she ended her tour at the old farm stand where she gave them pamphlets along with jars of honey. The businessmen were impressed by the mud bath and Gianetta's beauty which she exuded in her simple floral cotton dress. Along with her ample hospitality, they agreed to promote visits to the Rossi mud bath. That summer, they made appointments with Gianetta and began bringing people by van to the Rossi farm to soak in the soothing mud. At the farm stand tended by Paolo, guests bought honey and bee's wax candles and, upon a good donation, received a bottle of homemade lemoncello. As more people began to come for the mud baths, Paolo erected a large canvas tent near the mud pool to serve as a changing area and a place to leave their items. He designed and made slatted wooden benches which he placed inside for people to sit out of the sun. At night, Gianetta kept the books, counted the money which she put it in a tea tin before snuggling naked with her husband. Many a night, she made love to Paolo to the sounds of chirping crickets under soft puffs of night air from an open window.

In this fertile land, Gianetta became pregnant. At twenty six, she gave birth to their only child, a daughter named Fabiana. Paolo couldn't imagine a happier man than he. On days when no workers or visitors were expected, Paolo and Gianetta would take Fabiana to the mud baths. Once the netting was peeled back, Paolo pulled up a pole holding a Thermometer placed at the bottom of the pit to check the temperature to ensure it hadn't become life threateningly hot. Then he and Gianetta would strip naked and ease themselves into the mud pit while baby Fabiana lay in her basket covered with tulle. The young couple abandoned their nudity when Fabiana turned three and they began to soak in the mud together. There were mud fights and quiet times and sometimes Paolo told stories about the region's history. Fabiana's favorite story was about the circus lion that escaped from a traveling troupe fifty years ago. The beast was never was found. It became a tradition that on the walk home from the ruins, Paolo would pretend he heard the lion in the tall grass. Fabiana would run back to the house screaming and laughing as Paolo roared and growled behind her. Gianetta would chuckle at the sight and though she knew the lion was long dead, her pace would quicken at the sound of something rustling in the tall dry brush.

Fabiana grew into a beauty with lush chocolate brown hair and golden green eyes. She was as smart and entrepreneurial as her mother. At eighteen, she attended university in Rome with the dreams of owning a high end spa where she'd market the family mud. She studied chemistry and marketing and after earning a business degree, she moved back home and convinced her father to invest in her business. The first thing she did was to get an analysis of the mud's chemical properties. She confirmed the wide held theory; the mud's secret was a unique combination of minerals from the hot springs' water mixed with volcanic ash found only in that region. Fabiana duplicated the chemical composition and purified it into a face cream. She named her product Fango Miele or as it's known in English, Mud Honey. Her first sale of Mud Honey was at a Saturnia hot springs spa. She took her products on-line and after favorable reviews, her on-line business grew. She got her products into boutiques in Milan and Venice but she wanted to conquer Rome. Growing up in the country as an only child was lonely at times and she yearned to return to city life she enjoyed in college. So she moved back to Rome and sold her idea of a mud bath day spa featuring Mud Honey treatments to an upscale boutique hotel called the Palazzo Aventine. Her spa features massages and two free standing heated rectangular marble mud tubs filled with the farm's mud and Saturnia hot spring water trucked in from the region. Guaranteed to detoxify and relax. It was a hit. Everything was going well for Fabiana. Well, almost.

In the master bedroom of a two story house southwest of Rome, a naked and languid Fabiana laid cozy in her bed hugging her lover's pillow up to her nose. It smelled of Diana. The thirty one year old woman grinned with a certain satisfaction one has when their lover orgasms in their arms. She looked up to see a half dressed Diana in the master bedroom's bathroom. Fresh from the shower, Diana stood in a white bra and no panties before the bathroom mirror blow drying her blonde hair. She was so American; as athletic and tanned as a beach volleyball playing California girl. With the blow dryer now off, Diana placed gold stud earrings in her ears before returning to bedroom. The women exchanged naughty grins as Diana approached with her panther walk until she stood beside the king size bed. Fabiana's face loomed near friend's freshly washed crotch. The hot breath from Fabiana's mouth steamed her sparse triangle of soft honey gold blonde pubes.

In English, Fabiana purred, "You have a very pretty pussy."

Diana smiled down at her. "I love the way you say 'pussy.'"

Fabiana placed her palms onto Diana's thighs. She slowly rubbed upwards curving over Diana's pelvis to her crotch. Fabiana gently parted her pussy lips to reveal her glistening clit of conch shell pink. She flicked her tongue over it. Diana moaned and rubbed her head Her face drew closer to the and kissed the soft patch of hair.

"I can't," Diana said with heated breath. "My flight."

"I know," Fabiana said, releasing her lover's thighs. "Go before I make you lose your job."

Diana smiled down at her.

"Go," Fabiana said.

Diana grabbed her hairbrush from her open bag before returning to the master bath. Fabiana watched Diana brush her hair back and wound it into a respectable bun required for her job. She pinned her hair in place and sprayed on some hairspray. She needed no make-up but applied a sheer mango lipstick before smacking her lips. She put on her panties, navy pants, and crisp white shirt fresh from the dry cleaner's bag. Fabiana admired the beauty of her confident tomboy as she tied her uniform's red white and blue striped tie. Diana put on her navy jacket with gold wings and striped epaulets before grabbing her travel bag and captain's hat. She leaned over to kiss Fabiana who stretched up to meet her sweet lips.

"You take care of yourself," Diana said, rubbing her cheek against Fabiana's.

"You too," Fabiana replied. "Have a safe flight."

Fabiana cheek rubbed against Diana's caressing as a cat would their beloved owner. Diana's phone chirped. She looked at the screen. "My ride is here."

She caressed her face one more time before pecking Fabiana's lips. "See you."

"Ciao."

Fabiana flopped back onto her bed pillows as Diana left her room. She heard Diana tromp down the stairs and out the front door to the waiting ride. She laid in bed a few more minutes before finally getting up and sauntering into her bathroom where she washed her face before looking out the window into her backyard. The turquoise pool glittered in the sunlight as tall poplar trees gently swayed in the gentle coastal breeze. It was a lovely day to be naked out in nature. It's safe to say that, given the many times she bathed naked in the Rossi mud pit, Fabiana loves outdoor nudity. The air flowing around her body devoid of restrictive clothes some of the best sensations in the world. The thought of skinny dipping and lying out in the sun after an espresso pleased her. With a stretch of her arms over her head, she let out a huge yawn before slipping into a hand painted silk robe. The unbelted robe fluttered about her legs as she strolled out of the master bedroom and down the hall to descend the stairs. She was running her fingers through her tangled hair when a noise come from the kitchen stopped her in step. She rolled her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Max was home and in the kitchen. Her fucking husband, Max.

To say Maximus Corso's marriage to his wife is strained would be an understatement. As with most relationships, it started out splendidly. They met at the Palazzo Aventine when her spa was being built during the hotel's renovations. He was visiting the construction site of his latest nightclub, the hotel's Copa lounge when he spied an angry Fabiana fussing with a construction team who had left her site to work on his. He found the feisty spa owner with the pretty face and patina eyes very sexy. Her breasts strained against her buttoned blouse as she wagged her finger in the foreman's face. When he interceded in the dispute, the good looking businessman with nice body, soulful brown eyes and a killer smile charmed away her annoyance. Days after they first met, he courted her with flowers. A week later, she rejected his gift of jewelry. When he showed up at her spa to woo her once more, she agreed to their first date. See, Fabiana was hesitant to date a man who owns nightclubs as her father always says, 'Never trust a man who makes his money at night.' But he made her laugh and was fun and good in bed and above all, cherished her. He treated her like a queen. married the rogue in a lavish fairytale wedding. But most fairytales are really tragedies which end one act too soon. Three years later, Fabiana had filed for divorce citing Max's adultery which she was unable to prove. All those nights he didn't come home. The time she couldn't reach him for three days when he had club business in Palermo. The time she found glitter in his chest hair and he smelled of another woman's perfume. All these things raised her suspicions that burned like a raging wildfire. He denied having sex with other women but she didn't believe him. She asked him to leave the house. Max refused to leave. Though he financed the building of the mini villa, he put her on deed as the co-owner as an anniversary gift. As he is half owner of the house, she can't evict him. She tried buying him out his half but he has stalled for months now. Fabiana is a stubborn woman and in her mind, the house is hers. Her father designed the house and landscaped the grounds. She picked out everything, from flooring to the light fixtures. She was not going anywhere.

Their living arrangement was simple. Fabiana lived on the second floor on which he's not allowed. Max moved into the finished basement in which he made a swank mancave. They shared the main floor which neither one really used with the exception of the kitchen. This had been the arrangement for nearly two years. Once her animosity had settled into glowing embers, their relationship evolved into a palatable roommate situation. It was working out fine for the legally separated couple until that one time six months ago. It was around three a.m. when Fabiana heard female giggles and the clatter of high heels on her entry way's travertine tiled floor. She looked down from the second story floor to see Max leading some blonde gym rat Instagram whore named Trina into the kitchen and heard her shoes clunk down the stairs to his apartment. And with that, her hate was reborn.

Still, it was a beautiful day and Fabiana was determined to make the best of it. She continued down the stairs and rounded the corner to see Max at the kitchen island. There he stood in a blue t-shirt and cargo shorts where his big dick lay hammocked in khaki cloth.

He looked up. He gazed upon her nakedness draped in silk and acknowledged her with a curt, "Good morning."

"Good morning," she replied, keeping the kitchen island between them as she entered the kitchen.

After selecting an espresso k-cup from a basket of different flavored coffee pods, she turned to see Max slide his pod into the Keurig, set his mug in place and press brew. Fabiana's shoulders slumped. She exhaled an exasperated sigh. He glared at her.

"What?" he asked. "Can't I have a cup of coffee?"

"I really don't care what you do. You just have a way of getting in my way."

Gazing at the coffee dripping into his mug, he muttered, "Whatever."

When Max removed his coffee cup, she placed her cup and pod in the coffee maker to brew a dark espresso.

"I hate you," she muttered.

"I love you too."

She stared at him. Damn him for looking so good. Fit, handsome and confident. He was looking here up and down with that horny leer on his face. Bastard.

"What?" she asked.

"Your body is hot. You been working out?"

"No. Just lots of good sex."

She hoped her little come back would annoy him but he chuckled as she returned the milk to the refrigerator.

Max sipped his coffee, tapped his tablet and asked, "So what are you doing today?"

She stretched her arms above her head and replied, "Lazy Saturday. Things are quiet at the spa. I'm going outside to get some sun."

Max knew what that meant. A nude Fabiana. He hadn't seen her fully nude in months. Her lithe legs, gravity defying breast and sweet cheeky ass. He wanted to fuck her so badly. His ringing phone shook him from his lustful thoughts and he answered his cell.

Fabiana returned upstairs to gather a beach towel, her tablet, and sunglasses. When she returned to the kitchen, Max had gone. She grabbed a cold bottled water before stepping outside and walking to a nearby lounger. She set down her things before removing her robe to recline upon the lounger. She sipped her espresso and read her e-mail before setting the tablet aside to take in the sun. After an hour of sunning, she decided to cool down with a swim. When she rose from her lounger, a shiver ran up her back. She was being watched. She looked around the fence screen with tightly spaced poplar trees before accepting the fact that Max was probably watching her from one of the windows. Let him. She walked over to the pool and bent over to moon him before diving into the water. Submerged beneath the clear water, her hair fanned behind her as she silently frog kicked her way across the pool. She loved swimming nude reveling in the rush of the cool water swirling into body crevices usually protected by a swatch of fabric. After a few laps, she stopped to float face up. She bobbed in the water watching ragged white clouds drift high in the blue egg sky. Her nipples hardened from the breeze before she turned over to finish her swim. She pulled herself from the water and smoothed her hair behind her ears before toweling off and returning the lounge chair. She reclined once more and sighed with contentment as she put on her sunglasses, closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations of the tempering ocean air. Maybe she should return home for a mud bath. The whooshing sound of the sliding glass door opening caused her eyes to open. Behind the lenses of her dark sunglasses, she watched Max step out. He was naked too. She surreptitiously watched him as reclined on the vacant sun lounger beside her.