Sister Golden Hair Delight Ch. 31

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Paolo, I still need a sperm sample I can use.
3.8k words
4.61
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Part 31 of the 42 part series

Updated 11/01/2022
Created 11/21/2010
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Chapter 31

"Paolo, I still need a sperm sample I can use."

Friday, September 7th

Paolo...

I have to admit the priest did a very nice service for Angelina. I did think there was too much singing and I know I paid for more flowers than I saw. I don't like that much singing in church. Christmas songs, Ave Maria, that's all right and Messiah at Easter. Otherwise, just be quiet.

It's too bad it was a closed casket for she was a beautiful woman, once. The hardest part of funerals was the inevitable shaking of hands with everyone that had honored you to come. A philosopher once said that funerals were for the living, to help them deal with the loss.

The way I had been feeling, a dumpster would have been too much. The thought of my years in Italy all being a sham was very sad and I began to cry, for myself and my lost marriage, for my daughters who had lost their whore of a mother and whoever loved the two dead bastards that were fucking my wife.

People at the cemetery were convinced that I was heartbroken to the point of tears. Italian men don't cry, they had too much machismo and I could hear quiet comments about how much I must have loved her from the women. I didn't know what the men were thinking and honestly didn't care. The people of this village had treated Marisella cruelly and I even considered selling everything and moving away.

It was true, I had loved her but the woman I had loved died right after we were married. The moment she tried to kill me she was a dead woman.

After the burial, attended by most of the people from the village, I went to the next town to see if the police had any leads regarding the death of my wife, her driver and my overseer.

**********

The station was in the town hall opposite of the mayor's office, probably so they could keep an eye on each other. Small town politics are the curse of the citizenry and trying to get anything done without making someone's cousin rich was sometimes next to impossible.

"Signore Vincenzi, we are very sorry but there is really no information we can find. Evidently, your wife told the other servants to go to town and see a movie. She even gave them the money to eat afterwards. Gave them the whole day off. So, as you can imagine we have no witnesses to question.

"Now, Signore, I cannot help but find it rather strange that this happened when everyone else was gone. I can only think that there was someone watching for a chance like this.

"Do you have any idea where they could have been going?"

"No, I was with the priest discussing the upcoming festival. We were shocked that it happened. Do you have any ideas? Do you think they were kidnapping her, perhaps?"

"It's possible... one can never tell these days with the damned Mafia. Please, I don't mean to be disrespectful to either you or to the memory of your wife, but I have to ask these questions and I realize that you have just buried her. Was there any insurance?"

"No, there wasn't. I have insurance to take care of her and our children but, no, she didn't. There wasn't any reason for it."

"Is there a possibility your wife was...?" I could see he was ashamed of himself as soon as he asked the question although, God willing, he would never find out how right he was.

"What! How can you ask that! She loved me; we have two wonderful children. I'm just grateful to God they weren't with her."

"Yes, about that... where are your daughters?"

"They went with their cousin to America. Marisella has been given the chance to go to Los Angeles and stay with a friend of mine there. She's hoping to go to college, possibly UCLA. After what happened..." I let my voice drop off.

The sergeant continued to write on his notepad. Without being too obvious, I tried to read but it was upside-down and his handwriting looked more like scratches than letters.

"I'm sorry about what happened to the young woman, Signore, but we're going to have to close this case. After the first kidnapping, you understand. There's nothing you can tell me? Maybe, when you've had time to think about it, please give me a call."

He gave me his card and walked with me out to my car. I shook his hand and drove back to my villa to clean out certain things of Angelina's.

I couldn't sleep in the girls' room forever and needed to clean out the bedroom of everything she had used, including our bed. There was no way I was going to sleep in the filthy thing, now.

I called the three women working for me and taking them upstairs, told them to take all her clothes away and what they didn't want, give to the priest for charity. I let them think I couldn't live with the memories.

I had already taken Angelina's jewelry box the night before and went through it. I wasn't surprised to find things there that I hadn't given her, cheap rings and the like from her lovers.

Those went straight into the trash. The good pieces from me... half were missing. She probably sold them to support her times with Gio and Tomaso. The treachery of the bitch continued to amaze me.

I would take what was left and donate them to the church. The priest could sell them and use the money to fix up the old church a little. At least, some good would come from her death.

When the women had finished clearing out Angelina's belongings, I had the men still working for me take the furniture outside behind the outbuildings and chop them up for firewood. It was too bad, in a way, I really had liked several pieces but I knew I couldn't bear to look at them anymore.

That night, we had a big bonfire and it burned until early the next morning. The ashes of the fire flew away just as the ashes of my marriage disappeared into the night. When the firemen showed, I just told them I couldn't live with the memory and decided to destroy everything so I wouldn't have to look at it again.

I knew in my heart Marisella was never coming back so I moved into her room. The women seemed to understand and that worried me. I think they knew more than they were admitting to and were ashamed for not telling me. It is possible they didn't want to say anything to spare my feelings but I needed greater loyalty than they had shown and gave them all a year's pay and sent them away.

With the winter season soon approaching, I didn't have any need for the men, either and sent them away also. If I decided to continue producing wine grapes, I would worry about it next year.

It felt strange walking the huge empty house alone and I made a game of entering a different room each day and relearning everything that was in it. I was amazed at how much junk accumulated in just time I had been married.

When I finally got around to the girls' closet I found a small box hidden away on the top shelf under some blankets. I would have thought that in the day of the computer photographs were no longer used, but I was so wrong.

My whore of a wife had printed out photos of her and her one, two, three, four, I quit counting, men doing all sorts of things. In some, I recognized our bedroom and other rooms while others were a mystery to me. I knew I had to get a cleaning crew into the house to scrub the place down from top to bottom and dispose of anything I could see in the photos.

The woman's unfaithfulness surprised me. It was beyond just having a lover because she was lonely or wanted a child; she was an outright slut and I wondered how many men had been invited to lie between those creamy smooth thighs and enter the warm, tight wetness she offered so freely. Her constant 'headaches' all made sense, now. She wasn't even willing to try to make love with me... make love, that's a joke. It would have been just sex, another dick in her mouth or elsewhere.

In the end, I decided to gut the house and throw everything away. I didn't need everything that was in the house now that I was the only one there. Hiring a couple of men, what they didn't want became another bonfire. This one lasted almost three days and the fire truck arrived again the first day to see if everything was all right. Six cases of good wine and everyone was happy. They waved as they left me to watch my fire in peace.

I was determined not to fall into the trap of alcoholism, a strange concept considering all the wine I had stored away in the lower sections of the house.

**********

Resolved to get my health back where it should have been, I scheduled an appointment with a doctor four towns over.

You can imagine my surprise a few days later when she called and told me to meet her at the hospital immediately.

"Signore, I'm amazed that you're still alive. You have a toxin in your blood that should have killed you."

"What! What do you mean?" I was incredulous but shouldn't have. With everything else that bitch Angelina had done to me, trying to kill me should have been expected.

"Fortunately, now that we know I can immediately start you on getting better. This particular poison causes low blood pressure and affects every organ of the body."

"Doctor, what symptoms should I have seen?" Now, I was becoming worried. I had been thinking that I was just out of shape a bit and getting older, slowing down. Now the doctor had opened an entirely new path of thought. Ah, shit.

"Low blood pressure causes fainting, dizziness and especially erectile dysfunction since the penis depends on blood pressure to become erect. You're only 52... has this been a problem with you?"

My head was reeling. What I had thought was a problem of aging was because of poison? That miserable excuse for a wife.

"Uh, yes... from about four or five months after we were married. I thought I was just getting old, you know, and never thought of something like this. Will this be fixable?"

"Yes, as I said, we can get you started today. I've already registered you and the orderly will take you up to the room. We're going to aggressively flush your blood through a dialysis machine and over the course of the next few weeks allow it to work itself out of your fatty tissue. You should be fine, hopefully in about a month.

"Your dysfunction should go away very soon as your blood pressure starts to become normal again."

I wanted to scream 'you mean my dick will work again' but that didn't seem the right thing to do. I decided to wait until I was back at the villa to do something like that.

"How do you think this happened to me? We don't use pesticides on the grapes and we don't have any poisons in the house that I know of."

She consulted her notes as she followed the orderly wheeling me to the elevator.

"One of the ways would be through ingestion, that is, food. Have you noticed any difference in what you had been eating?"

I thought as hard as I could and then remembered that my food always had a slightly funny taste to it. Everyone else was eating without any problems so I just thought it was me.

"Now that you mention it, my food had tasted a little off for the longest time. I just thought it had to do with age. Everyone else was eating without any complaint."

"It seems to me that someone was trying to kill you. How does your food taste now?"

She had figured it out. My food that I had fixing since everyone was let go tasted just fine like it had before I was married. I wasn't paying that much attention to it, still caught up in my own grief that my marriage had exploded around me.

"You're right, it tastes fine now. I'm fixing it myself, nothing fancy, just a little spaghetti and meat, small salad and a little vino."

"I'd like to send a technician over with you when you're released and see if he can find anything that might have caused this. Otherwise, we're going to have to look somewhere else. How often do you eat outside the house?"

"About twice a week... down at the square. I have lunch with the parish priest, we've been friendly since I came from America." '...yeah, while my wife was fucking the help.'

"Well, I think we can probably rule him out, wouldn't you say?"

My heart was at rest now. I knew the priest was innocent; it was my wife or one of the women working in the house.

"Yes, please do... as soon as possible, if you can. Would you like my house keys?"

"No, that's all right. Whatever's there will wait since I already know what the problem is."

After arriving at the hospital room and changing into the impossibly immodest gown, I was taken down to the dialysis room and spent the next three hours watching my blood flow out and back in. It was positively scary realizing how close to death I had come and for what? So my whore of a wife could cuckold me in my own bed? So she could inherit all my money and property? So she could have younger lovers at my expense, laughing the whole time? That goddamn bitch...

A day after I had torched the car, I had actually felt guilty about killing her. Now this... a heavy weight had been lifted from my soul and it all became self-defense even if I was unaware of it.

The doctor was looking for a full recovery since I had not died all this time. She thought it might be because the dosage was insufficient to kill me and just caused other problems.

**********

When the technician went into the kitchen the following week, he found a bottle that had no label and a cursory examination told him it was the cause of all my problems, my physical problems... my emotional problems, the whole damned mess.

He called the police and told them he needed a bottle to be checked for fingerprints. Even a small group of towns in southern Italy had computer access to the world and when they ran the prints, my wife's face popped up... from Interpol.

It turns out Angelina wasn't Angelina, after all. She was someone named Jovanna Vasquez from Spain and had been one step ahead of the law the whole time since she was fifteen, killing older men for their money and property. She must have been so angry when I was still walking around. I'm surprised I didn't have an 'accident' somehow.

Since I refused to die, she had taken God knows how many lovers over the years and lived the good life at my expense.

The local Carabinieri were truly able to close the case, now, they said since we all knew who she was and what she had done. Why she was dead must have still been the work of the Mafia, probably because she wasn't able to kill me. Who knows? they said to me and each other.

I was amazed at how evil she had been and how stupid I had been. The only good thing to come from our sham of a marriage were the two girls who weren't even mine.

**********

A month later, I was back in the doctor's office and she took me to her examining room.

"Paolo, please undress for me and get on the table." I was waiting for a gown but there didn't seem to be one coming.

After taking off my clothes, I hopped up onto the examining table. She pointed to my boxers and said to take them off. I was afraid this was going to be one of those 'turn your head and cough' exams and so I nervously slipped them off and tossed them onto the chair that held the rest of my clothes.

She locked the door, closed the blinds and said, "Paolo, please lie down on the table and relax. This is just a simple test to see if the treatments are working."

As I laid down and tried to relax she turned off the lights. While it was dark it was still easy enough to see with the sunlight peaking through the closed blinds.

Her fingers touched my penis and 'oh, thank God,' it sprang to life almost immediately. I haven't had that pleasure since before I married Angelina. I don't know what the good doctor thought but I joyfully felt the strain against my skin as I grew even harder with her hand moving up and down.

I moved up on my elbows, trying to see better in the dim light.

"Paolo, lay back down and let me take care of this." My legs went over the edge of the table, bent at the knees.

As her lips opened and slipped down over my oh so erect dick, I realized that she had called me 'Paolo.'

She moved her head forward against the bottom of my dick and began a shoveling motion as she came forward and down, forward and down while holding it tightly with her right hand.

I head myself groan as her lips touched my hair and her hand moved to hold my balls warmly, gently, tightly.

She leaned over, standing between my legs, and grasping my dick began once again to move her right hand up and down and up and down.

Somehow, I was able to put my own hand out and reach for her. Her doctor's coat fell open and her breasts rose like perfection into view. Greedily, I touched one, cupping it, feeling it, rubbing the nipple gently at first.

Her thumb was rubbing against the backside of my dick while the rest of her fingers held it tightly and there in the faint light I could see such a smile on her face.

My hand left her perfect left breast and smoothed her soft hair, gaining me another smile from her entrancing face.

And she came back down, swallowing me again as I once again groaned at the intense pleasure I was receiving. I hadn't enjoyed such gratification since that one night with Angelina on our honeymoon.

Shit, why did I have to think of her?

She pulled off her coat completely, let it fall to the floor and then took my dick in hand and rubbed the head over her right nipple. She was ticklish and laughed as her nipples on both breasts became hard and rose up.

She went down on me again, holding just the head in her mouth, surrounded by those luscious, hungry lips and began pumping my dick with a purposeful rhythm. For my part, all I could do was give low, deep groans of approval and encouragement.

If even possible, it seemed to grow some more, become even harder as she squeezed me with one hand and pushed in with the other.

Wildly aroused was I and she began kissing my balls, taking one then the other inside her mouth. I tensed up. Never had a woman done that for me, neither my first wife, God bless her soul or the lying bitch Angelina.

I don't know how she did it but she began 'deep-throating' me with an all new enthusiasm and I could feel first the slope of the back of her mouth and then suddenly sliding a ways down her throat. God, did I feel good as I spurted down her throat once, twice, I don't remember how many times and God knows I didn't care either. It seemed to go on forever.

When she finally came up, she moved next to the table and swung one leg up and over me and presented her dripping pussy to my eager mouth. I hadn't had pussy like this in years.

First putting a very friendly bit of attention to her outer lips, I licked, sliding my tongue up and down, back and forth, occasionally dipping inside and bringing out more of her incredible wetness onto my face. I could feel her start to come as her body gave a little shake, another and then a huge series of grinding movements as she pushed down onto me.

I was trying my best to breathe through my nose and I imagined it must be like what she was feeling when she took me down her throat and had to hold her breath. In her case, though, it was as if her entire body was pushing down onto my head as she lost sight of where we were and once almost fell off the table. I was able to grab her delicious ass at the last moment and steady her and then she continued to rock against me as if nothing had happened.

My tongue found her clit standing at attention waiting for review and I applied a gentle sucking, bringing it into my mouth where I playfully brought my teeth against it. Her loud gasp and shaking of her pelvis told me that she surely enjoyed that and I decided to remember what I was doing in case we were ever again together.

She woozily got up and turned around into the famous 69-position and with her right hand grabbed my dick and put it back into her mouth. I returned to what I had been doing, carefully aware of her high-heeled shoes just inches from my head.

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