Mud Honey

She asked, "You enjoy stalking me, don't you?"

"It's my house too."

He rolled over to look at her. She pretended not to notice.

"Let's call this off," he said.

"You seriously expect me to call off the divorce when you came home with some puttana the other night."

"Trina? That was last year. I don't even know her. She doesn't matter to me. You know that. Besides, we're legally separated. I can bring home whoever I want. But I don't. "

He got up and sat beside her. He gazed at her but she remained aloof. She tried hard to ignore her wildly racing heart as she turned her head away.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "I want you."

That was it. His sexy voice, his hot breath filling her ear, aroused her. He had a way of doing that. She wanted to pull him down on top of her, have his muscles smash into her while his nipples rub against hers. But Fabiana remained passive. He stroked her arm with his fingers. She slapped away his hand. When he's this close to her, her resolve fades away with each passing second.

"Come on," he griped. "Let me back upstairs."

"No. I'm in a relationship."

"With your American friend?"

He gently placed his hand upon her tit until a nipple popped out between his fingers.

"I saw her leave this morning. You're not a lesbian."

"You want to taste her? She's still on my lips."

He crooned, "You're so nasty. I like that."

His hand from her breast down her torso to her hips. She stifled a gasp when his strong hand gently trailed down her skin.

In his deep, sexy pillow talk voice, he continued. "You love dick too much. She is something different...exciting. What you think you have with her doesn't compare to what we have."

She was ashamed to admit he was right. A kiss grazed her ear. Sexual tension pulsed in her loins. She pushed him away and sat up, quickly packing away her things before leaping to her feet.

He asked, "Hey? You and your Americana. If I can't join in, can I watch?"

"You're a mutt," she answered before sliding her feet into her sandals.

Max chuckled. He loved a challenge. And he loved Fabiana. She almost took his breath away when she stood and passed him in all of her naked glory. And her ass. He hadn't seen it in a year. He wanted to play the bongos on her cheeks.

He called after her, "Your ass is getting bigger."

"Fuck off!" she said, sliding open the glass door.

"What? I like it!"

He laughed as she slammed the door shut behind her.

As Fabiana stepped into the shower, she asked herself why she still love him? Because he's kind to children and animals. He's generous. He's sexy. He has a great sense of humor. His dick fits her as though it were custom made. The way he licks her body in some kind of fervent worship as those she were a deity who rose from the sea. How much longer can she resist him?

A current of cold air was followed by the opening of the fogged glass shower door. Startled, she clutched her hands to her chest and turned to see Max, fully naked, entering the walk-in shower. She backed away, her feet finding their grip on the wet flagstone tile.

"What are you doing in here? Get out!"

She reared away from him until she go no further. Under the stream of water, he leaned forward and growled in her ear, "I fucking love you. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. Let's stop this and start over. Renew our vows anywhere you want. Just name it."

He leaned over to kiss her neck.

She was trembling at his touch when she answered, "A yacht in St. Barts."

Typically he voices his disdain for yachts. This time he replied, "Done."

He began to pull her from the shower. She pulled away saying, "I have soap in my vagina."

He grabbed the hand held shower head washed the suds from her reddish pubes. She widened her legs and he rinsed her until her inner pink was squeaky clean.

His mouth took one of her fawn tinted areolas into his mouth; sucking, teasing, pulling on her nipple until it stood erect. She writhed beneath his teasing tongue.

"You like it when my tongue is in you. Don't you?"

Her knees trembled as his fingers slid into her pussy lips. "Don't you."

Ashamed, she whispered, "Yes."

They stumbled out of the shower kissing each other in wild abandonment. They fell together onto the bed. Their wet bodies dampened the bed covers as he kissed her parted lips. He rolled on top of her. His hard dick rubbed the crease of her closed thighs. She couldn't resist him much longer. Memories of those stolen afternoons they had sex in unoccupied hotel rooms excited her. Her legs began to spread. She longed to trap him between her knees, have him enter her with a forceful thrust and fuck all afternoon.

"No," Fabiana said, pushing him away.

She fought her way from out of his arms and quickly scooted to the edge of her bed.

With water still dripping from her hair, she grabbed a towel and roughly began to dry her hair saying, "I'm just supposed to forget about the glitter on your chest and the perfume on your shirt and the nights you don't come home."

"I own nightclubs!" he said with such ferocity, she froze with the towel on her hair.

With pent up frustration he lamented, "I ask you to come with me on business trips and you always say you can't because you have to be at the spa. When women rub up against me, I shove them off and tell them I'm married. There's nothing I can do when investors ask me to be their guest in the VIP section or when a town fifty kilometers away challenges my liquor license or a club is fined for breaking a noise ordinance or after inventory, I have forty missing bottles of liquor! Forty! What do you want me to do? I have a business to run too!" He ran his fingers through his hair to curb his frustration as the throbbing in his penis ebbed away. "What am I supposed to do? I was a nightclub owner when you met me. I haven't changed. You've got to get over your jealousy and insecurities."

She coolly asked, "What about Trina?"

"I hadn't had sex in six months. Six months!" he said, slapping the bed in anger. "Just like now! Six months! I've had sex once in a fucking year! What did you expect me to do?"

Fabiana's frown said it all. She dropped her towel, slid off the bed, and hopped into a pair of jeans before rushing to put on her bra.

"What are you doing?" asked Max.

"I'm leaving," she said, as she opened her gym bag on a nearby chair.

She stomped across the room and opened a dresser drawer to gather t-shirts and shorts.

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you!" she said shoving clothes into the bag.

She quickly threw some toiletries as Max watched.

Max yelled, "You're the one who wrote out separation papers! You started this shit!"

Fabiana stomped out of the room leaving Max in her bed. She got into her MINI Cooper, started it, and tore off down the road.

Fabiana was an emotional mess. She loved Max. In her heart, she knew he was right. She knew what he was when she married him and was proud when she caught one of Rome's most eligible bachelors according to Roma Bellisima magazine. She knew the pitfalls that comes with a man who owns several nightclubs. Drinking, drugs, shady characters and slutty women wearing slutty clothes. It would be best if he'd just leave and let her get over him. After a two hour drive, she'd cleared heavy traffic and was driving on the two lane highway winding through the countryside. Fabiana slowed and turned onto the dirt road leading to her family home. She got out to open a squeaky iron gate, drove in, closed the gate behind her. She drove down the short road and parked in the large square gravel lot outside of her parent's home. She pulled her bags from the car and was heading for the door when it opened. Her mother stepped out in Indian print cotton dress. Gianetta's hair was piled on top of her head as though she'd been cooking but she was talking on the phone. She was worried by her daughter's appearance. Fabiana's hair, which typically bounced in big soft curls around her shoulders, was a frazzled mess.

Fabiana heard her mother say, "Luci, I have to go. My daughter just came home. See you soon. Ciao."

Gianetta shoved her cell phone into a pocket as her daughter approached.

"Mamma," she cried.

The two hugged before Gianetta held her at arm's length to look in her daughter's face.

"What a nice surprise," she said. "What are you doing here?"

Tears sprung from Fabiana's eyes. Gianetta kissed her daughter's wet cheek before pulling back to look into her pained face.

Gianetta calmly said, "What's wrong, baby? What's wrong? Come. Come inside out of the heat."

The two women entered the house. Fabiana plopped down onto the worn couch. Her mother sat beside her.

Taking her daughter's hand, Gianetta asked, "What's wrong?"

"Max! Stupid fucking Max!"

Gianetta frowned as her inner mamma bear came out. "Has he been violent with you?"

"No, mamma. Nothing like that."

Gianetta sighed with relief. She rolled her eyes and muttered, "That man is going to be the death of this family. Do you want something to drink?"

"Coca-Cola please."

Gianetta didn't keep many sugary items around the house but an ice cold Coke was a family favorite. She poured some over ice and returned.

"What has he done now?" she asked, handing the glass to her daughter.

"Nothing. I mean, he just won't leave. Why won't he just leave me alone?"

"He loves you."

"He loves torturing me."

"Do you still love him? Be honest."

Fabiana didn't answer that question. She replied, "I can't go home. Can I stay here for a few days?"

"This is your home. You can stay as long as you want but remember, you can't run away from your problems."

"Where's papa?"

"Your father is in Naples giving a presentation on some renderings he submitted for a new municipal building. His design made the top three."

"Oh, how wonderful. Uh, can I have a little rum?" Fabiana asked, raising her half empty glass.

Gianetta chuckled as she got up and fetched a bottle of rum from a cabinet. She poured a splash into her daughter's glass before making a rum and Coke for herself. She pinched off a sprig of mint from her herb garden in a planter in the kitchen window sill and placed it in her glass before stirring the drink and rejoining Fabiana on the couch. They gabbed like good girlfriends. They talked business; Fabiana wanted to open another spa and had a desire to add a new product to the Mud Honey line while Gianetta spoke of the crafter's website where she'd set up an online shop selling her home made jewelry and molded beeswax candles. Then, their conversation returned to men.

Fabiana ranted for nearly an hour and ended it by saying, "I'm not going to let a man make a fool out of me."

"He's not just any man. He's your husband. And that's your pride talking. Don't let your pride ruin a good thing."

Fabiana weighed her mother's wise words.

"Listen, men are dogs," Gianetta said. "Even your father. But your father is a good dog, a loyal dog. He loves his leash. He loves his home and he loves the food I put in his bowl. It's not that complicated. Dogs bore easily. You have to make sure he's not bored. Like your father and me. We get kinky, you know? Do you and Maximus get kinky?"

"Aye, mamma, no," she said in disgust."

"Sometimes we spank each other or explore different ways to please each other."

"Please stop."

"Sometimes I'm submissive. Other times he's submissive—"

"Mamma, stop. I don't want to hear about you and papa's sex life."

"Toys? Do you have toys?"

"I'm not discussing butt plugs with you."

"Who said anything about butt plugs? Butt plugs."

Just hearing the words 'butt plugs' from her mother's mouth made her cringe.

Gianetta casually said, "You shouldn't be so hung up on sex."

"I'm not," she said, wishing she could bomb her mom with the confession of her bi-sexuality. "I just don't want to talk about it with my mamma, that's all."

"Alright. All I'm saying is you need to keep your love life spicy."

When the sun began to set in the western mounts, Fabiana pulled her car into the modern four car garage inside a rustic barn and parked beside the electric golf cart charging at the EV charging station. Gianetta cooked a marinated fish and an orzo salad with cherry tomatoes, herbs and feta cheese. The two sat and ate and shared a bottle of her mother's favorite red wine. Fabiana was glad to be in the love of her home and left thoughts of Max far behind her. The two, pleasantly drunk and fed and talked out, went to bed early, as is custom with country folk. The night was quiet until a persistent litany of chimes from Gianetta's phone roused her from her sleep. Her home security system was alerting her to an uninvited visitor.

It was the sound of a car pulling into the gravel lot coming through her open window that made Gianetta's eyes fly open. She could see the white beams of light from LED headlights briefly light her room as gravel crunched beneath a car's tires. She tapped her bedside iPad for the time. 12:03 a.m. A naked Gianetta quickly pulled on sleeveless cotton nightgown before dashing down the stairs. In the front room, she pulled a shotgun from the rifle rack before edging to the window. She nudged the curtain aside and peeked out upon. Under the motion sensor street lamp, now blazing a bright white light over the entire lot, she could see a sleek white BMW parked with one man in the driver's seat. The man got out of the car. Maximus!

Gianetta breathed a sigh of relief and unlocked the front door. She stepped out barefoot onto the door mat before softly closing the door behind her. Max's shoes crunched on the gravel as he approached the house. He was dressed in a Polo shirt and jeans. He slowed to a halt many meters from her when he saw the long gun in her hand.

With a gregarious smile, he said, "Signora Rossi. How are you this evening? You're looking beautiful on such a fine night."

"I'd be better if I was asleep. What do you want?"

"Is Fabiana here?"

Gianetta didn't reply. She didn't want to get involve. She didn't know whether to play matchmaker or not. What if Fabiana is not telling her the whole truth of the situation? What if he's a coke snorting womanizer who did wrong by her daughter? But then again, here he is, seemingly sober.

Max stepped forward.

"Look, I'm a man just trying to get his wife back. I have a gift for her," he said, pulling a ring box from his jean's front pocket.

He opened it to present to her and even from her distance, Gianetta could see the multi carat cushion cut gem glittering in black velvet.

"I love her," he said. "I love her. She has my heart. She's my light and...and my kitten and I love her."

Gianetta frowned, uncomfortable with this man pouring out his heart as she stood in a white nightgown with no panties on. He seemed to be on the verge of crying. She pitied him.

"I want to renew our wedding vows."

Gianetta sighed and said, "I don't want to get involved. You two work it out on your own time at a decent hour."

Snapping the box close, he shoved it back pocket. He stood there for a few seconds before looking up.

Stepping forward, he said, "I know she's here. I'm not leaving until I speak to her."

Gianetta raised the shotgun and slid the pump back and forth before leveling it at her son-in-law's chest.

He stepped forward saying, "Signora Rossi, please—"

Gianetta swung the shotgun towards his car. "I swear I'll shoot it if you don't get the hell out of here. Now! And close the gate on the way out."

Max raised his hands and backed away saying "Okay, okay, I'm leaving. Have a good evening."

Gianetta lowered her weapon when he got into his car. The car came to life with an electronic roar. He backed up before pulling out onto the dirt lane. She heard the squeaking gate bang close before the car sped away. The lights turned off and the quiet, punctuated by the chirps of night birds, returned to the countryside. Gianetta looked up at the starry sky and sighed.

"I don't need this shit," she muttered before stepping inside her house and closing the door behind her.

Fabiana's mother didn't mention Max's midnight visit over the breakfast table. Dressed in loose cotton sun dresses, the two drank coffee and enjoyed sliced melon and warm buttered banana bread while planning their visit to the mud pool.

"We have no visitors or workers scheduled today," Gianetta said, pulling out several fluffy towels from the linen closet of towels dedicated to the mud bathing. "It's all ours. Did I tell you I booked a bridal shower for the mud? Four hundred Euros."

"That's great!" Fabiana said as she packed cold water, lemoncello, bags of sliced cucumbers, grapes, cheddar cheese and crackers into a large picnic basket and latched it close.

The two pinned their hair on top of their heads and slid on their flip flops. With their baskets of food, drink, and towels in hand, they left through the front door. They sauntered by the chickens pecking in the gravel on their way to the garage. Gianetta swung open the door and they walked to the golf cart Paolo bought years ago.

The chickens scattered out of the way as the golf car sped out of the garage. Fabiana hung on for dear life as her mother bounced the cart down the dirt road skirting the lemon grove to the ruins. She parked it in the shade of the lemon trees and the two unpacked their things before stripping off their dresses. Fabiana carefully stepped onto the seat below the surface and then another even deeper which put her waist deep in mud. She took a seat on the ledge seat and wiggled her toes and fingers in the sludge. Gianetta placed the rolled up towel behind her daughter's neck and Fabiana leaned back. Gianetta swept mud up over her daughter's shoulders before placing cold cucumber slices over Fabiana's closed eyelids. She dipped her hand into the mud and drew a line of mud down the bridge of Fabiana's nose and across her forehead.

"Thank you, mamma."

Gianetta placed a wide brimmed straw hat on her head before slinking into the mud and sat on her favorite stone seat. She let out a contented sigh that only being encased in weighted warmth can achieve. She smeared mud upon her forehead and cheeks and neck before letting her head loll back on the improvised cushion and closed her eyes. They sat there in silence. A buzzing insect, birds chirping in the trees, and the sound of flapping canvas from the changing tent flaps catching in the billowy breezes; Fabiana was utterly relaxed in the calm countryside.

The two women had no idea about the car pulling in front of the house.

Maximus parked his car outside his in-law's house and got out with a huge bouquet of flowers. He knocked on the door and waited, nervously shifting side-to-side on his feet. When no one answered, he had a feeling they were in the mud so he headed for the lemon grove. He had looked for Fabiana at the Palazzo Aventine where their businesses are housed, thinking she may have taken advantage of their discounts on rooms. When she wasn't there, he knew she had returned home.

Max broke from the grove to see the two women sitting peacefully in the mud. It amazed him on how much the two resembled each other. His mother-in-law only looked a few years older than Fabiana. It gave him hope that Fabiana would age just as gracefully.