Italian Women's Erotic Sins, Volume I

4
The governess: charm, but firm hand. (Reality)

Flora thought she was going crazy, the situation had become untenable. Despite the promises made to herself and to the mother of Nicòle, the girl`s presence had become too intriguing, however oppressing for her. Her pleasure in feeling secretly observed from that little slut stirred the blood in her veins and, as soon as she saw or thought of her, she would find herself horny. From the very moment Nicòle would arrive at her home, her most inner part would begin to drool pleasure; she desired the orgasm for hours, while her cheeks glazed and her breasts sweat. She wanted her! And, of course, in the end she was left frustrated by the “stalemate” that she had solemnly imposed herself. She wanted to vent about her delicate body that infinite desire. The first day that Nicòle deserted lessons, Flora breathed of relief, after weeks of stress she seemed to regain control of her life and home. She had become a small despot; a real little rogue, that princess! The second day she got gloomy. She missed her. She wanted to still be bullied by the impertinent spy. She missed her eyes staring at her thighs. True that Nicòle had gone too far; being found naked on the toilet, still wet. Delicious thoughts had crossed her mind, as galvanic sparking currents, but she had to behave like a responsible adult. She had to resist! That evening she made up her mind and called one of her friends to give vent to her volcano of lust, but the man already had a commitment. The fact that she could have not him made her even more furious. She fumbled in her intimacy mechanically in bed, but the pleasure made her even more excited and unable to overcome her desire for Nicòle.

In the evening of the third day she decided to put an end to it and phoned.

"Yet, I was sure that she had warned you," said Franca, perplexed "today's young people no longer have any respect."

"No, leave her alone, they are just kids, maybe she gets bored here with me. Unfortunately I do not have neighbors with children of her age. I understand the poor girl." Flora justified her.

"Wait I’ll call for her, let’s see how she feels." Then Flora, anxious and awkward, heard the distant voices of Nicòle and her mother:

"What are you thinking? Why did you not warn Flora you were sick? "

"Ugh, but I was not well, I thought you had told her."

"You're a so rude. Now get on the phone and apologize ... " Other words that Flora could not hear followed. Shortly after, Nicòle came to the phone:

"Sorry!" she began.

"For what, my darling? I'm sorry you were not well," beaming Flora said " but now how are you feeling now?"

"I'm fine," Nicòle continued, somewhat laconic. Then, again, Flora heard mother and daughter confabulating in the background.

"Mom says: if it's not too much trouble, can I continue coming to you?"

Flora didn’t know how to conceal the joy that those words brought to her, her voice broke in trepidation, as she said:

"You know, Nicòle, now this is your home. You have to decide, if you want … us to see each other again."

"Yup. I still want to come" said the young girl.

The next day, when she entered the house, a fragrant scent of apple pie and cinnamon filled her senses. Flora went to meet her and they embraced without speaking. Since then, however, she no longer sat on the ottoman, but on the couch, next to Nicòle.

5
Perversed enchantment (Fairy Tale)

Now that the ice had been broken the Iron Fairy no longer kept her secrets for herself. On the contrary, buttery and languished, she had decided to give her soul and, if possible, even her body to the princess.

To Dawn it didn’t seem real: after homework, in the afternoon, they would have tea and chat like best friends. And since Dawn had never been so good and willing in her studies, in the end she would get a prize. This prize was presented as confidence and intimacy.

The fairy, resigned, would give herself to her completely, so to let her satisfy her lust and languished feelings of young and impertinent girl.

So the naughty girl would sit beside her.

They would often make use of a small blanket with a scottish pattern, times when Dawn would rejoice even more. They would watch television or Flora would read something in the long winter evenings. She would crash on the sofa and follow pretending interest to any program, for the sake of staying close to her. Their legs, hidden under the blanket, would begin rubbing together and the mere sound of the textile would excite them. Dawn never lacked the right excuse: for fun or for fear, any pretext was good to squeeze against the Iron Fairy. Then, especially if protected by the woolen blanket, the thin finger would begin rummaging. The girl would hug the woman in seek of protection and would explore all her roundness, all her curves. She wondered on the cotton shirt, sometimes getting lost among the roses on the black background, or picking daisies on the violet nightgown. The more the fairy would keep quiet, the more the hands gained confidence.

When she began she would want to stroke with delicacy, faking little interest: distracted, occasional caresses, as if born spontaneously with no ends. But then the excitement would increase, the movements would become increasingly raw, convulsed, disconnected. Those hands literally “possessed” the body of the large fairy.

Dawn would touch her abundant hips and then would crawl like a snake to her soft and generous belly, suddenly slipping under the cotton to caress her groin. Then she would return upwards, find her tits and pull, squeeze, play with her large breasts. The nipples would reveal themselves at her touch bloated and hard under the material, pressed under the matronal bra.

Then the fingers would explore the neck, the head, dangle on the earlobes… and the fairy would slowly die of languish. The heart would go crazy and small drops would shine on the forehead.

The blanket was Alba’s accomplice.

The girl would start complaining of being hot and, underneath the quilt would slip her skirt from her gazelle legs, staying only in panties and socks. The bare flesh would now again seek the contact, move the cotton, slip the silk and find, finally the other’s skin. When the skin met, it was a joy for both. The desire was as great as it was suffered and prohibited. The fake silence of the fairy, that impossible indifference of hers, make the young girl shudder: instantly, she feared of being discovered that consequently banned, shooed. She knew she was taking advantage of all the Iron Fairy’s enchantments, but she couldn’t help it. She had to drink from that forbidden fountain.

Every evening, returning home, she would promise herself to resist that thirst but the next afternoon the good intentions would fall and she would dive back on the surrendered, soft, maternal body.

6
Getting lost, to after seek for each other more than before. (Reality)

The afternoon was cold, though spring had already arrived.

Nicòle arrived with rosy cheeks and knees, her little nose was frozen. Her slender figure emerged superb, between the play of light of the door’s glass. Flora was dazzled, once again, by her grace. She had been missing for a week and she had realized how much she loved her already.

Master of the world, Nicòle took off her coat and white scarf. Then, she took off her cotton cap, letting her golden hair scroll down her shoulders. She flooded the house of smiles and words without importance.

"No school tomorrow, no homework today!" She established, domineering, that it was the suitable afternoon to watch "Doctor Zhivago". Flora wanted to cry, but did not, nor did she oppose the request. She had been waiting too long for her to not fulfill the wishes of her small "tyrant". She began feeling butterflies in her stomach, while her mind relished the caresses she longed. Their hands would dance with their fingers, intertwining and repelling each-other, like dancers on a stage. She could not curb her desire, nor to put a real brake to that girl.

But they had been stalled for too long: she could not continue like this. Flora decided to take the plunge and play her cards:

"Go pee then, otherwise you won’t want to get up later" she smiled. "Meanwhile, I'm going to prepare tea."

"Yes, Sir!" Teased Nicòle.

While Flora was fumbling in the kitchen, the young woman lingering in the bathroom shouted:

"I have a surprise, you want to see?"

"Oh, ohhh!" Relaunched Flora, "your surprises do not promise anything good to my fate..."

"But yes, look at me!" She came out of the bathroom, putting herself on display. She was wearing only the thick ribbed sweater. Below, instead of socks, she wore blacks and sheer tights. Flora lurched, despite the girl held her thighs clenched, it was obvious she was not wearing panties: a mop of fair and delicate hair, cleared the socks, right over her virginal groin.

"And look now," Nicòle said with her smile of youthful impertinence. She parted her feet, spreading her legs. She had ripped her tights roughly with her fingers, just between the legs, so the stockings worked as a frame for that stunning spectacle.

"It is my invention! Do you like it? " She did not wait for an answer; she knew, anyway, that it would not come. Flora’s mouth was wide open in amazement, she could not utter a single word.

"They keep me warmer, I'll be very comfortable. And without panties, I can pee easily." She looked up and stared at Flora with swagger, the doe eyes defied her without shame. Flora managed to distract her attention from the spectacle. With longstanding breath, she pretended to mumble something about youth, turning to hide the redness of her cheeks. She dedicated herself tenaciously to filtering tea. Still boiling hot, she poured it in the favorite cups. Then, without a word, she retired upstairs to the bedroom.

Nicòle had already settled on the couch, as cozy as an alcove. She had dared, but in her heart she hoped not to have gone too far.

The film had just begun. From the stairs she could spy on Flora on her way into the living room. She had changed clothes: she wore a long shirt, tight over her breasts in a kind of empress style, slightly flared at the bottom, in fact, and closed with buttons. The girl noticed that she wore no socks. "She must be hot" she thought to herself, and took pleasure in the sight.

7
The fairy with no veils. (Fairy Tale)

That afternoon the Iron Fairy had been wearing a light dress with buttons on the front. Silently as always, she sat down next to Alba. After a few minutes, the Princess curled up at her side. She began to savor the voluptuous atmosphere that was creating between them. She closed her eyes and inhaled the fresh scent on her delicate flesh. She pulled on the couch both legs, bandaged by the pantyhose while abandoning her head on the arm of the fairy. Moments later, her free hand slipped from her thin legs to the deliciously full of ones of the mature woman. Pushing along the light cotton, she felt the easy flow on the bare skin of the thighs. The princess felt one of those thousand shivers that constituted her precocious sexuality.

Curious, with a pounding heart, the transgressive hand made its way to the top; climbed over the belly, delayed on the stretched navel and then up the slight slope that plodded under the generous breasts. She wanted to launch a small cry of victory, but held it back, biting her lips: she had just realized that the woman had also removed her bra. Her breasts, deliciously warm, rested on the bodice of her gown and were only withheld by the buttons. Alba met appetizing dew forming under two big breasts. The urge became violent.

The fairy was silent, as if nothing was happening; with a Sphinx face, she looked without seeing in the direction of the television; her lips enigmatically pursed; not a shred of emotion peeped on her face. Her piercing eyes carefully avoided crossing Alba’s. Yet, for the first time... the fairy, under her clothes was naked, but seemed completely indifferent to the conflicting passions that agitated the young girl.

Alba wanted to keep touching the bare skin but was afraid to seem too insistent. Eventually, she took courage: she had to attempt it. She could not stay forever in insecurity and with her breast on fire. The slender fingers acquired courage and, like artificers that manipulate an unexploded bomb, she freed one after the other the three buttons which clutched the neckline of the Iron Fairy. The breasts overflowed, as an overflowing dam, now devoid of any defense, flaring softly, moving away from one another. In the middle, like a fragrant valley, mild and sweet dew appeared.

As if coming from the undergrowth in the month of August, a puff of female fragrance invaded the nostrils of the cheeky princess. Alba was insecure in reading the signals of pleasure, but certainly did not avoid to seek the voluptuousness between those two tender and warm mountains. On the summit, rising as Tibetan temples, the breasts with the apex already as thick as a thumb, soared, enticing her to dare.

The contact of bare skin with the most intimate places of her "godmother" made the euphoric princess feel as if she was drunk. She abandoned all inhibitions and lunged with her hands on her chest and belly that sustained them, her hands eager to touch.

The indifferent and bored silence, which had often been cause sorrows in the young princess’s heart, were now blessed. The excitement made her reckless ... and, miraculously, the woman, motionless, let herself be tossed, felt, smelt, without giving signs neither of discomfort nor of appreciation; which was good for Alba who had lost her mind. She was, by now, almost ready for the decisive step; the proximity of the face and mouth to that generous breast, asked her to do something that she had never yet dared: take it between her lips with all her passion. That first kiss, erotic, extreme, would mark the end of any compromise ...

The Fairy's voice came, calm but firm, totally unexpected, as a slap in the face. The matron came out suddenly from her cryptic numbness. She revived turning to Dawn, stared at her with her dark eyes glowing like embers:

"But do you really like what you're doing?"

Dawn jumped back; withdrawing her hands. She stiffened as if she had been struck by lightning.

Although she continued to remain motionless on the couch with her breasts outside of the tight gown; despite the underlying edge, urged by the motions of Dawn, had climbed up to completely uncover the big thighs to the point of even showing the white panties, it was Alba who felt stripped naked. She felt discovered in a game that she had crazily thought she could hide. The excitement had suddenly fallen, she felt ashamed of having taken so much advantage, exaggerating, usurping. She had invaded the friendship of the good-natured fairy, insistently touching up her body without ever having received permission explicitly.

That day she had certainly exaggerated and fully felt all the violence of her transgression. She remained frozen, completely sober after the drunkenness of pleasure, she wished to sink, rather than having to admit her humiliating attitude.

***

Time had stopped in the living room. Everything seemed to be silent, even the TV.

The Iron Fairy, as impassive as a jailor, peeping into Dawn’s soul through her eyes, clear as water. Then, finally, on her face drew a faint smile that smelled of whipped cream. She resumed her comfortable position on the couch and slowly tried for Dawn's hand, repositioning it on the yielding breasts. As soon as the girl broke from the grip of fear, she laid down her head, letting some tears of joy flow from her eyes. Then the fairy pulled her close until her mouth found itself right on the nipple.

"You know that this is forbidden? Will you know to keep the secret?" She whispered to her ear. Breaking her mouth from the perverse but sweet kiss, Dawn promised with all her soul: "I will never say anything to anybody about what happens between us... here. I swear on my life!". The fairy looked down and their lips met: hers were fleshy and pronounced, and parted to the curiosity of the maiden. Dawn did not really know what to do, but the contact was intoxicating. A moment later she found on her tongue an oily and transparent juice: it was the saliva of her lover. Passing from mouth to mouth, the temperature of the liquid lowered, bringing into her mouth an unknown and new freshness. She thought she wouldn’t resist the flavor without fainting, but she gave herself strength.

"Noooo!" She could not believe that everything was really happening. That penetration between her lips was the most intimate and secret thing that had ever happened to her. When the tongues captured each-other, Dawn wanted to cry again with emotion. Little did she know that was just the beginning of their forbidden dance.

8
Taking each-other: exercises, skirmishes, perversions. (Reality)

"I'm so happy with you, I like to touch you all over and I wish so much that you to also caressed me," Nicòle said.

"You sure you want it? Do you really want a more intimate contact?" Said Flora, while they were embraced, their cheeks touching.

"Yup. I have wanted it for months: I want you to touch me too!" She added whispering "I know very well that my mother would not accept this, but I will never say anything. I want only to be yours!” Flora smiled and finally let go, the lace that blocked her emotions had dissolved. It was time to reap the fruits of her riding secrets and of her tenacity. She kissed her on the lips with complicity, and her hands began to move. They slipped under the thick sweater and searched her shoulders, satisfying their long coveted greed for that young body. From the shoulders to the hips, then, from above the stockings her hands went down to the buttocks, to find them tight and firm. They met her legs, to then rise again, dragging her wrists on the pubis, but not halting there... at least for the moment.

The caresses went back up, under the shirt and reaching the small pointy breasts, recently blossomed and very hard. Reaching the rose halo, they stopped. Flora stared at Nicòle with a smile of defiance; waiting for a permit that was not denied. Then she knowledgeably was able to press and pull those unripe hills. She surrounded and massaged them; after kissing her again, she headed, with her mouth to the jersey, subjecting her small breasts to the voraciousness of the lips. The warm breath penetrated the wool, flooding the girl with a new and heady warmth.

The excitement became dream when, with voluptuous movements, Flora slid upwards the shirt and the light vest, allowing direct contact of her lips on the pink buttons, hard as pearl stones.

The girl’s womb was on fire. The desire stirred her wholly, she did not know how, but she wanted from that woman all that eros had to offer. Nicòle could not know, that the dance was only the set of preliminaries. In fact, a few minutes later, Flora got up, double-locked the door and took her hand. Barefoot, like forest nymphs, they went upstairs where the bedroom was.

She laid her down pressing on her gently, then she lowered over the young girl putting herself on all fours, like a bitch; while her boundless breasts precipitated on Nicòle’s neck and chest.

"My darling, now you can look at and touch ... everything. No need to hold yourself any longer. It's been so long since I wanted this, my dear." She shook a lock of hair with her fingers. "At last ..." he added, almost moved by the ecstasy of the moment.

Then Nicòle, with a liberating gesture, opened all her buttons and let the robe flow off, leaving her fairy finally naked, in all the opulence of her soft forms: now exposed completely in front of the eager eyes.

She had already began to enjoy just by watching the feminine curves she had wanted for months. She possessed her with her eyes, like a child who becomes master a toy he has longed for. Now free, Nicòle began touching the woman, to then study her breasts, her stomach and hips.

Flora was still wearing the white panties. Curious to try, Nicòle's fingers rummaged under the elastic, she wanted to find out how far she could push past the new frontier of sensuality. She tried for the edge and began to take them off. The woman abandoned herself to the fresh pleasure, and Nicòle, following her body with her touch, had the opportunity to explore all its flesh, all the way to the bare and warm feet which she had so often wanted to kiss. Now, the great lady was naked and her own: what an unexpected pleasure!

As a gift of love, even the young girl offered herself:

"Take me too, Flora, discover me, look at me and touch everything you desire of me, my body has belonged to you for a long time, treat me as if I were your thing."

The adult was very able: her hands slid off all her clothes, running on the skin and making her vibrate. Languidly she removed her torn stockings, making them slip on the long-legged gazelle. The fingers stroked her small breasts which reacted to each of her caresses by themselves. Motherly, she adjusted her lingerie on a pillow. Before long, even the girl was completely stripped naked.

For Nicòle to be facing her was like flying: to see the entire body made her feel suspended in a disturbing state never felt before.

Being so naked allowed them to melt in a total embrace, every centimeter of skin was in contact, coinciding. Lying on the bed, Flora’s hands, immediately followed by her lips, began the passionate journey that would never be erased from the memories of Nicòle.

Her fingers on her were like sparks, molten lava. They slipped, hungry for meat; just after her fingers, the mouth came, moist of breath and saliva, seemingly smoky. A burning droll left on the still immature body unknown emotions. The trail evaporated immediately due to the love fever, procuring uncontrollable shivers of excitement. Nicòle was in a trance. She lived everything as if in another dimension. The new feelings were intense, violent, yet muffled, as if her mind was living under the effect of the most intoxicating drug.

Finally, after long wanderings, her fingers reached the little butterfly, which as if just freed from the cocoon, stood motionless and contrite, waiting for her innermost intimacy to teach her to hatch pleasure. What had seemed to be an unsustainable peak of pleasure, turned out to only be the dawn of the forbidden path during that terrible and unnatural pairing.

Flora's hand devoted itself to the gem belonging to young Nicòle: she caressed her, comforted her ... she warned her to stay strong, since the sinking was coming. In fact, a few moments later, the full mouth descended relentlessly, greedily. The little butterfly snached, the raped wings filled with dew, splitting to its ends with the mighty and strong tongue. The whole mouth was pressing; the entire tongue penetrated unstoppable: like the canine tooth of a vampire, thirsty for honey. Flora penetrated into the wet and, simultaneously firey from passion chapel.

An obscene sound emanated from the erotic scene. The sweetness had given way to greed. An electric lightning, breaking bright, set off from Nicòle’s womb following every innermost muscle, reaching the brain, making her jump with excitement.

A pleasure never experienced, unknown even in the lonely nights when she tormented her sex. Flora lay on her with the same strength of a male who wants to possess the conquered prey. Without deflowering her, she made her hers repeatedly, perhaps even more vehemently; branding her forever with her weight and with the blazing letters of her irrepressible desire. She slipped in with the stiff middle finger, then also the index managed to pass inside.

The orgasm... Nicòle’s orgasms began a few minutes after the pressure waves on her wrecking flesh. After, it was impossible to count them, as it would not be possible to count the days of love and pleasure to come. All those hours together, during which they transformed into inseparable lovers.

When Nicòle tried to reciprocate, directing the mouth to the places of women secrets, Flora did not allow her to reach them. The girl had to be content to rest her cheek on her belly as she tried to inhale, close to the the woman’s, all the smell that it emanated.

Her lover caressed her hand and gently guided her, granting to venture inside her but only with the fingers. Nicòle began to dig and to rummage, as if in her own property, wallowing in that sea of moods. Secretly, she licked her fingers to immediately return to her fingering. Flora exploded within minutes, with no more control. Just as Nicòle realized that her governess was reaching climax, she searched with the other hand, for her pudenda and joined in the novel pleasure, the liquid sound made her dissolve ... like fainting, in a lake of sin. Coming together was inconceivable, initiating at once a communion that could have never again been ignored.

For the young Nicòle, this was the first real sexual experience, and it was all female. It went far beyond just sex; She flowed in the emotion of love: a sensation that would have never been matched in her life. For as much pleasure she would ever taste, no relationship would hold the comparison with the first, marking, adventure. Those couple of intense and overwhelming hours remained imprinted in her memory with a level of unparalleled ecstasy.

Exhausted, she curled under the body of her fairy, after the unbridled sex, now seeking unconditional love.

And she fell asleep.