Our Love Story

We went to the Palace of Versailles, ascended the Eiffel Tower, and ate lunch surrounded by the artists in the Place du Tertre on the hill of Montmartre, whose cafes and theaters had been a favorite haunt of the Impressionist painters. Lacy was delighted by the paintings of the Impressionists in the Musee d'Orsay, and she was particularly drawn to the works of Berthe Morisot, probably because of intimate way they celebrated domestic life. But the highlight was Monet's life sized paintings of the waterlily pond in his garden at Giverny, where she sat entranced for almost an hour, and I promised to take her to see the garden one day when they were in bloom.

In Italy we spent several days in Florence, wandering the streets where Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo had walked, and spending hours in the Uffizi and the Galleria dell'Accademia. Like millions of tourists before us, we gazed in wonder at Michelangelo's "David", and oohed and aahed at Botticelli's "The Birth of Venus" and Leonardo's "Annunciation." On our way down to Rome we stopped for an afternoon in Orvieto, where we were blown away by the exquisite frescoes by Fra Angelico in the duomo, paintings that seemed to glow with an internal light.

Finally we reached Rome, where we planned to stay for a week before turning north again. How can one describe in a few paragraphs all that Rome has to offer, with over 2,000 years of art and architecture, from the ghosts in the Roman Forum, the majesty of the Coliseum, even in its ruined condition, to the glorious splendor of its Renaissance Palaces, and the majesty of the basilica of St Peter. Lacy wept a little at the poignancy of Michelangelo's "Pieta", and again at the sculpture of "The Dying Gaul" in the Capitoline Museum, and laughed in delight when she saw the sculpture of the little boy removing a thorn from his foot. Of course, we had to visit the Sistine Chapel to see the Michelangelo frescoes, which had only recently been restored to something like the condition when they were painted. Surprisingly, we both agreed that we preferred the Fra Angelico paintings in the cathedral at Orvieto. We threw our coins in the Trevi Fountain, and walked beneath the stars in the Pincio.

Looking at what I have written, I realize that I have made it sound as if all we did was look at art and architecture, but nothing could be further from the truth. One would have to be a philistine to be in France and not to sample the rich variety of the cuisine, and the wine. We ate wonderful food in simple auberges, and expensive restaurants, and one Sunday we were invited to share in the family lunch at a farm, a lunch that lasted almost all afternoon, with seven or eight courses. While we were in Burgundy we spent a rather splendid afternoon visiting one of the vineyards, and sampling the wine, at the end of which we were just a little inebriated. It was in Italy, however, that we had our greatest revelation. It is sad that the only Italian food that has seemed to reach America is pasta and pizza. We discovered that Italian cuisine has a richness and variety to rival France, and were delighted to sample many regional specialties, of which I remember a hearty cannelini bean soup in Tuscany, which was almost a meal in itself.

And we made love, every night a voyage of discovery and wonder. The joy we took in each other, and in giving each other pleasure in new and exciting ways, was the real highlight of our honeymoon. We had both loved before, and we were both sexually experienced, but our lovemaking had a new dimension to it, which stemmed from the deep spiritual union that we had discovered with such delight the very first time, and which grew even stronger each passing day. I think I can safely say that we had discovered in each other someone who made us complete, as if we were two souls that had been separated at birth, and who could never be truly happy and content until we were united once more.

A couple of days before our wedding, one of my colleagues, on hearing that we were going to be in Rome for a week, told me that he knew of a number of very good private adult clubs. On second thoughts, he added that he realized that I wasn't in to that kind of thing, although privately I guessed that he must be, the old dog, and that there were also some high class clubs with female and male strippers, and in some cases, live sex, but where the audience were not invited to take part. "You really ought to give one of them a try," he said, "strictly for the experience, of course, although it might give you a few ideas!"

Lacy and I talked about it, and agreed that it might be fun, and so it was that one evening, after an excellent dinner in a very good restaurant, we found ourselves in the Club Paradiso, which was situated quite near to the centre of the city, in a small Renaissance palace, probably originally built for one of the old patrician families. Once we had paid our entrance fee, which wasn't cheap at over €100, we found ourselves in what was originally the ballroom. I was rather pleased to see that the original decorations had been retained, with large gilt framed mirrors around the walls, and rather fine chandeliers. The only clue to its current use was the rich ruby wallpaper, and a small stage at one end of the room.

We were shown to a small table by the attendant, who was suitably dressed in eighteenth century costume, complete with powdered wig. Once we were comfortably seated in the plush armchairs, we were approached by a female attendant, also in appropriate costume, exactly like one would expect to see in paintings of the period, except that her breasts were bared, and asked what we would like to drink. By now I knew what Lacy's tastes were, so I ordered a good dry white wine, rather overpriced at €100 for a bottle, but I suppose that was normal for such establishments.

After about half an hour, by which time the room was full, mainly middle aged couples like ourselves, the lights dimmed, and the first act started. This was a young woman who looked exactly like a Fragonard painting, and who removed her clothing slowly and decorously to the music of Jean Phillippe Rameau if I wasn't mistaken, just as if she was a lady preparing for bed. Once she had taken off everything except her pale gold g-string, she put on a diaphanous robe, and seated herself in a small chair facing the audience. She began to caress her magnificent full breasts, before slipping her hand inside her g-string to play with her pussy. After a few minutes, she walked down into the audience, going from table to table, giving the patrons a good look at her charms. I was interested to see the discomfiture of some of the men, especially when she sat down on their knees, much to the amusement of their wives. When she returned to the stage, she removed her g-string to reveal a neatly trimmed bush in a heart shape framing her pussy, before exiting the stage.

There were a number of other acts, similar in character, but when a hour or so had passed in this entertainingly erotic, but quite tasteful manner, the first young lady came back, accompanied by a liveried footman carrying a silver tray covered by a cloth. She removed her clothes exactly as before, including her g-string this time, and sitting on the same small chair with her legs parted, she began to masturbate, moaning quietly as she grew more excited. After having a rather obvious orgasm, simulated no doubt, she beckoned to the footman, who brought her the tray, from which she took a glass dildo, quite possibly Venetian, which she proceeded to suck before plunging it deep into her vagina. She then ordered the footman to remove his breeches, and to stand in front of her so that she could fondle his balls and stroke his cock until it became hard, a rather impressive specimen of manhood about seven inches in length, upon which she took him into her mouth and started to give him a blow job, while continuing to masturbate herself with the dildo. Within a few minutes they both came, realistically this time, and when the footman's cock slipped from her mouth, semen dribbled out onto her breasts. They then left the stage to enthusiastic applause and a few cries of "Bravo" and "Encore".

By the time this performance was over, most of the men were shifting rather uncomfortably in their seats, trying to adjust their own erections no doubt, and many of the women looked rather flushed. To pretend I was immune to this display of sexuality would be a lie, and Lacy looked at me and grinned rather mischievously, and murmured, "Enjoying yourself my darling. Wait until we are back in our bedroom, and I might give you the same treatment, if you are a good boy!"

There was then a short interval, during which time the waitresses passed among the tables again, although this time they were naked apart from a purple and black corset, suspenders and silk stockings. They took every opportunity to titillate and arouse, bending over to ask whether patrons would like to refresh their drinks, revealing their naked pussies peeping out between deliciously rounded cheeks. I did notice that any attempt to touch was rewarded with a sharp slap on the offending hand. At some tables, where the client ordered another bottle of wine, they gave a more revealing show, sitting on the table and parting their legs lasciviously, and in one case where the gentleman ordered a bottle of champagne that must have set him back several hundred euros, the waitress slipped her fingers into her pussy, and then leaned forward and put her fingers in the gentleman's mouth for him to suck. I declined the offer of another bottle, since we had only drunk a couple of glasses each.

A drum roll then announced the main act of the night. At first two women came onto the stage, one dressed as a lady, the other as her maid. The one dressed as a lady then removed her clothes with the assistance of her maid, with plenty of touching, and when the maid had undone the laces of her mistress' corset, she put her hands around her to caress her naked breasts. Once she was naked, the lady embraced her maid, and they started to kiss passionately, which soon developed into lesbian lovemaking. At the point when the lady was on the point of her climax, with the maid kneeling between her legs enthusiastically licking her pussy, a man entered from the curtains at the side of the stage, dressed as a nobleman. For a while he watched the entertainment in front of him, but then he stripped of his clothing to reveal an even more impressive erection than the earlier performer. Kneeling behind the maid, he lifted her skirts, and thrust his cock between her swollen labia deep into her dripping vagina, and began to fuck her rather forcefully. All three performers climaxed at the same time, with much moaning, and a shriek from the maid. As the man withdrew his cock from her cunt, semen oozed out and down her thighs.

As the performance reached its climax I looked around at the audience and from the looks on their faces many, both men and women, had been masturbating and were close to or in the throes of an orgasm. Both Lacy and I were very definitely aroused, and looking at her flushed face, I suggested that it might be a good time to leave, and continue with our own private show back in our hotel bedroom. We stood up to leave to the sound of rapturous and excited applause, and once outside I hailed one of the taxis in the rank at the front of the building, and gave the driver the address of our hotel.

Once we were in the taxi, we could hardly keep our hands off each other, just like a pair of randy teenagers. Lacy daringly unzipped my fly, and slipped her hand inside my boxers to squeeze my cock, which was rock hard, evidence of the effect the show had had on me, while I undid her blouse, and slipped the cups of her bra off her breasts to give me full access to her ample charms. All through this performance, the driver remained impassive with his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead, a wise thing to do in Roman traffic, even at that time of night. He did glance in his rear view mirror from time to time, but I was sure that he was quite used to this kind of behavior.

Before entering our hotel we hurriedly adjusted our dress, but once in the lift, we continued to kiss and cuddle, which brought us rather disapproving looks from the elderly couple who had entered the car at the same time. As soon as we had shut the door to our room, we almost tore each other's clothes off, such was the urgency of our desire. When we were naked, I pushed Lacy towards the bed, but she put her hand on my chest to stop me, and falling to her knees in front of me, fondled my balls with one hand, and curled the fingers of the other around my shaft to masturbate me. After a couple of minutes of this exquisite torture, she took my penis between her lips, and slid her mouth down my length, until I was fully engulfed, putting our her tongue to lick my balls. I have no idea where she learned to give such a perfect blow job, but I wasn't complaining, and very soon I could feel the pressure of my impending orgasm building deep in my loins, sending sensations like sheets of flame shooting through my body. I soon reached the point of no return, and made to pull out of Lacy's mouth, but she was relentless, and when I came in ecstasy, ejaculating time and again into her mouth, she continued to suck me, until my cock had deflated, and slipped out of her mouth.

Lacy smacked her lips with pleasure, and laughing, said, "I did promise you the blow job of a lifetime, my love, but now it is my turn, so make love to my pussy, my darling, and take me to heaven with your expert lips and tongue."

I needed no further invitation to pleasure my angel, as she had pleasured me, and I was soon hard at work between her widespread thighs, using every technique I knew to give her an orgasm as delicious as mine had been. I started by licking her slit, which was dripping with her juices, from the entrance to her vagina to her clitoris, and back again, up and down, as if I was enjoying an iced lolly. I sucked each of her swollen labia into my mouth in turn, and rolled them around my tongue, like pieces of succulent fruit, making her moan and writhe in pleasure, every so often teasing the hard little bud of her clitoris, flicking it rapidly with my tongue.

"Please stop teasing and suck me, my lover," she groaned, "and make me cum. Ooh I am so excited, I need to cum, make me cum."

At first I denied her, and continued to tease and titillate, but finally I relented, sucking her clitoris into my mouth, and humming, which had an affect like a vibrator, which made Lacy moan even more. She put her hands around my head to pull me harder against her pussy, and began to thrust her hips into my face. I could feel the muscles of her thighs contracting, as the sensations of her growing orgasm spread from her pussy into her body in waves of overwhelming pleasure. Then suddenly, she screamed, pushing a pillow into her mouth to keep from attracting unwanted attention, and arched her back in a paroxysm of release. As she did so, I thrust three fingers deep into her cunt to caress her g-spot, the muscles in her vaginal walls clamping hard around them. Another wave of orgasmic delight washed over her, then another and another, until finally she collapsed back against the bed, gasping for breath, and groaning quietly.

I climbed up onto the bed beside her and cradled her in my arms, her skin bathed in a sheen of sweat, and her face and breasts flushed deep crimson.

Finally, when she was able to speak, she murmured over and over, "Thank you my darling, thank you," and then turned to kiss me hard, before lying back in my arms, eyes shut and a look of utter contentment on her face.

We lay there in each other's arms for some time, drifting in and out of sleep, in that delicious state of post orgasmic relaxation. After what could have been minutes or hours of languorous bliss, Lacy eventually turned to face me, and whispered, "Fuck me now, my wonderful husband. I want to feel your lovely cock moving inside me, possessing me, and after we have entered the land of delight together, to fall asleep with you still inside me. Oh I love you so much, so very much, I am so glad we found each other."

We made love face to face, kissing and murmuring words of love. After the urgency of the passion that had possessed us earlier, this was a leisurely sharing of our bodies, in mutual delight, almost an act of worship. I recall even now, that sweet divine moment as I slid my cock between the lips of her pussy and into her welcoming vagina, and in the moment of release, as I emptied myself deep inside her hot velvety depths, we reached the peak of rapture together. This was so much more than a mere coupling of bodies in sexual frenzy, but a true union of minds and souls, an outpouring of self-giving love.

We did not go back to the club during the rest of our stay in Rome. Nights like that should be an occasional treat, and not the staple fare of a marriage. To live at such a peak of sexual excitement can eventually dull the senses to the more mundane pleasures of conjugal bliss, and the daily delight in lovemaking of a more tender nature, an expression of love and commitment, as well as mutual desire, the cement that binds two people in the sacrament of marriage.

As I had promised, after making our way beneath Alps through the Mont Blanc Tunnel, instead of turning north towards Paris, we made our way east until we reached Orleans on the River Loire, a city famous for its association with Joan of Arc. Over the next few days we explored the Valley of the Loire, and its wonderful Renaissance chateaux. Only a few out of the hundreds that were built on the banks of the Loire and its tributaries are now open to tourists, and we limited ourselves to the most renowned, from the largest at Chambord, built as a hunting lodge by Francis I - some hunting lodge - to the exquisite jewel which is Azay le Rideaux, on its island in the middle of the River Indre. Sadly most were ransacked of their treasures during the French Revolution, so although one can admire the architecture, it is possible only to guess at their former splendor. We also made sure to sample the wines, which include some of the world's best known names, from vineyards that were first planted by the Romans.

Finally we turned north, making a small detour to visit the castle of Pierrefonds on the edge of the royal hunting forest of Compiegne, about 40 miles north of Paris. It was partially destroyed by order of Cardinal Richelieu in the early seventeenth century, and left as a romantic ruin until it was restored in the the late 1850s. It has been used in many films and TV shows, and really is the epitome of the fairy-tale castle. When she saw the life-sized statue of a medieval knight on horseback, Lacy clapped her hands with joy, and exclaimed that I was her knight in shining armor, riding to her rescue in her darkest hour.

All too soon it was time to catch our flight back to the U.S., but we carried so many wonderful memories in our hearts, so much more so because they were shared. Once in the familiar surroundings home, and back in harness, Lacy and I began to plan our future life together, but that is a story for another time perhaps.