The summer of all possibilities
Summer 2024 soap opera
Throughout the summer, we follow the adventures of Coraline, aka Coco, on her Italian roadtrip accompanied by Élodie, aka Chouchou, her best friend. A summer adventure in the form of an initiatory journey towards more power and more fun. ☀️
Chapter 1
July 18 - Lyon
Last night, Chouchou showed up at my place at 6:30 p.m.
As usual, no text or call in advance to warn me. But hey, we've been best friends since middle school. You could say I'm used to her unexpected visits. Some days, I wonder how she manages to maintain this aura of carefreeness, to ride the wave of events, to do what she wants when she wants. It's fascinating, but also a little irritating.
Me, Coraline, aka Coco for my friends or Coco Mojito (but that's another story) , I can't help but always plan everything, check, perfect and work harder.
The proof is that my friends suggested we go see the fireworks on Saturday and I preferred to stay home to get even more of a head start before my vacation, which doesn't have a program. Sometimes, I wish I could let go a little more and enjoy life. Come on, I can only blame Virgo ascendant for being too square. That's what astrology is for, right?
Chouchou looked me straight in the eye, with her usual enigmatic smile, and said: "Girl, my aunt just broke up with her Italian guy and she's keeping the villa in Verona. She's going on a three-week yoga retreat. And guess what? She's leaving me the keys! Remember that road trip to Italy we dreamed of in college? It seems like it's finally happening. You can't say no, you booked a vacation and you don't have anything planned! Come on!"
A road trip. In Italy. It was a dream, but back then, it was easy to dream when you were broke and carefree.
Now I'm a graphic designer at a growing advertising agency. My summer is already planned out with projects to finish and back-to-school preparations.
I told her at first that it was impossible. “I have so much to do, big projects for the company. And I haven’t been to the gym in six months, I’m all flabby!” But she insisted, with her trademark gentle but relentless determination. She even quoted my favorite actress, Sophia Loren, who once said, “I’d much rather eat pasta and drink wine than be a size 0.”
Chouchou always knew how to make me falter.
So, I finally accepted. My vacation was already scheduled and after all, this trip could stimulate my creativity. It could always be good for my career. Part of me is excited by the idea of breaking this monotony that has enveloped me for the past few months. On the other hand, the other part is already stressing about what I am leaving unfinished here.
And then Chouchou is right. We have always dreamed of this adventure, maybe the time has come to live it. I remember, we even listed the dishes to try and bought a French-Italian dictionary. I must still have it somewhere. Time goes by so quickly and it would be a shame to keep putting off what could be an unforgettable experience.
Okay, come on Coco, don't think too much or you'll backtrack. It's decided, this summer will be different. It will be spontaneous, carefree and under the sign of sisterhood.
For better or for worse, the adventure begins. I wonder what this trip has in store for me. Will I be able to let go, to enjoy the moment? I'm not sure, but a trip to Italy never hurt anyone.
Chapter 2
July 25 - Verona, the beautiful Verona
Last night we put down our suitcases in Verona in the villa of Christine, the famous recently divorced aunt.
Hidden behind a large wooden gate in the heart of the city, the place is a real marvel. The house is tastefully decorated with that mix of kitsch and class that only the Italians know the secret to. Of course, half of the decor is stamped Versace!
It does me a world of good to see other inspirations, to hear the melody of other accents and to see a little bit of sunshine. I don't think I had crossed the French border since 2019, before COVID.
This crisis has made me more of a homebody and recluse than I thought. In the end, in Lyon I live mostly between the office and my home, with the exception of a restaurant with friends from time to time.
But today, the goddess of Dolce Vita has taken a look at me. I haven't found her name in Roman mythology yet, but she decided to teach me a lesson.
After overheating from taking hundreds of photos, my trusty phone's battery died. I panicked in the middle of aperitivo time. How was I going to manage my emails, share each new idyllic vision on Instagram, and be available for my loved ones? Okay, I put an out-of-office message on my inbox, but you never know. I felt like everything could fall apart without me.
Verona had already put on its evening attire, the shops were closed, no way of finding a solution until the next day.
Chouchou, true to herself, kept her cool and reminded me: "Coco, no one died. We're in Italy, enjoy!" Easier said than done, but I had to adapt.
Without a phone to distract me, I ended up getting carried away by the atmosphere of this romantic city. I won't hide the fact that I found myself reflexively reaching for my lifeless smartphone more than once. It was frightening to see how used I am to checking my notifications, ready to react as if my life depended on it. This made Chouchou laugh a lot and suggested that I check her own networks if I really needed my screen time.
After a rather stressful aperitif, I gradually began to relax.
We wandered around for about an hour before choosing a small restaurant with a lovely courtyard. The place was charming with its dim lighting, rustic wooden tables and the hubbub of Italians enjoying their evening.
We started with bruschetta. The bread was crispy as can be, the olive oil rich and fruity, and the tomatoes were sun-kissed. Mama mia! Nothing like the €15 ones they sell in downtown Lyon. Next, I had ricotta and spinach ravioli. Every bite was delicious, the dough tender, the ricotta creamy, and the spinach subtly seasoned. All washed down with a crisp, slightly fruity white wine, perfect for this feast. The flavors and textures seemed to come from another world. I enjoyed it as much as I did my last sexual encounter.
For the first time in a long time, I really relaxed. We laughed, talked about everything and nothing, like in the old days. This evening reminded me why Chouchou and I are so close. She knows how to bring me back down to earth, how to make me appreciate the little things in life.
We ended this first Italian evening on the balcony of the incredible villa. The sky was clear, dotted with stars and the evening air was mild. Sitting there, a glass of limoncello in hand, we let ourselves be enveloped by the tranquility of the night.
With the help of alcohol, we talked about our fantasies .
Chouchou told me that she fulfilled her college fantasy of having a threesome with two women. It happened last year with her girlfriend at the time and a friend of hers. She loved the experience, although it wasn't at all what she imagined. Apparently, the three women laughed a lot, got into a fight a few times, but that only added to the experience. Today, she fantasizes about an orgy where she could be watched.
For my part, I didn't have the opportunity to realize the fantasy of my student years. Making love with a stranger, not knowing his name. Just sex for sex's sake, a kind of instant combustion in a way.
We ended up asking ourselves the eternal question: should we or should we not realize our wildest fantasies? The debate was punctuated by many fits of laughter and digressions to the point of forgetting the main subject.
Finally, without my phone, I rediscovered what it meant to enjoy the moment. Maybe this trip will teach me to let go more than I thought. For once, I am grateful that technology has abandoned me. I write this as it is late and tonight’s few drinks are starting to make me feel sleepy.
Or perhaps it is the goddess whispering to me to rest, for other adventures await me?
Chapter 3
July 26 - Verona still
After a somewhat difficult awakening following a few drinks the night before, we started the day by enjoying a coffee on the terrace. Nothing better than a good cappuccino to start this second day on Italian soil.
Chouchou and I took the opportunity to take stock of the wonders that surrounded us. We agreed: beautiful Italian men and women are among the monuments to be admired in the same way as any palazzo. And I must say that all these bodies sublimated by the sun were starting to awaken a libido that I thought was dead and buried since my breakup with Mathieu 7 months ago.
Our giggles caught the attention of a group of three Spanish girls who seemed to have opted for the same activity on this cool morning.
One of them, with thick curly hair and a red lip, called out to us in perfect English: “Excuse me, I think I heard a French accent! We also came to Italy to enjoy the view,” she said with a pointed wink. We laughed together and the conversation began spontaneously.
Lola, Silvia and Marta were on their way to a music festival south of the city that was being held this weekend. It had become their annual rendezvous since one of them got married. Their motto was Everything that happens at Euforia Fest, stays at Euforia Fest!
After our coffee, we let ourselves be charmed by the medieval historic center of Verona. The mix of Gothic and Renaissance architecture was a real treat for the eyes. As good tourists, we loved the statues on the facade of the Palazzo Maffei on the beautiful Piazza delle Erbe. Each building seemed to want to reveal the secrets and intrigues of its time.
Our exploration then took us to the must-see Romeo and Juliet balcony. The place was lively, but the flow of people had calmed down for the day. This was the perfect opportunity to enjoy the view of the courtyard from the sculpted balustrade.
"You know, Sweetie, I wonder why Romeo and Juliet have become the symbol of ideal love. Their story is tragic and I am convinced that Shakespeare wrote a moral tale to warn us against the excesses of love," I said, looking at the statue of Juliet whose left breast had been polished by the millions of people desperately searching for their other half.
Chouchou nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Their romance is express and fatal. They're just teenagers and I don't think the play even spans a week. You could really see it as a warning against excess passion. Maybe their story reminds us that intense love isn't necessarily the healthiest."
I smile. “That’s true. Romantic love is nice, but it shouldn’t trump all other forms of affection. Self-love, love for your family and your girlfriends, are just as valuable.”
“Absolutely. Look at us enjoying this moment. That love and friendship is essential. That’s kind of what Sex and the City taught me during my hundreds of hours of watching. Our friends can be our soulmates,” she replied, hugging me.
On the way back, we continued to share our thoughts on all the forms love could take. Time seemed to stand still as the sun slowly set over this romantic city.
We ended the day by booking our tickets for the event the three Spanish girls had told us about. I think my last festival was when I was 23. I was both very excited to try it again, but I was also afraid of not feeling like I belonged.
Nothing could prepare me for what would go down as one of the hottest nights of my summer.
Chapter 4
July 29 - Euforia Festival
The excitement of the music festival was palpable as soon as we arrived. I didn't know half of the bands, but the atmosphere was super festive.
We found the three Spanish girls, ready to start dancing and savoring every moment. Chouchou, for her part, was overcome by a bout of the blues, the good old melancholy of PMS. I reassured her, telling her that she could easily return to the villa by Uber. I was a big girl capable of enjoying the evening alone. After all, I had taken the Spanish girls' number so that we could meet up later.
Once Chouchou left, I walked away from the crowd towards the bar. I hadn't partied in a long time and even less alone, I needed a little dose of courage.
And then I saw it.
He was behind the bar, filling pints of beer one after the other.
Since no one came to serve me, he left his post to take my order. I immediately noticed his high cheekbones and that lock of hair that, despite his many attempts to put it behind his ear, continued to fall in front of his long brown eyelashes. It took all the concentration in the world for me to ask, trembling, " una birra, per favore " while a wave, what am I saying, a tsunami of heat started from my belly to set my whole being on fire.
The sudden violence of desire stunned me on the spot. I had forgotten the taste of vertigo where excitement mixes with danger. It was enough for his black eyes to rest briefly on mine for me to be torn again by this hunger that I thought had deserted me.
Oh, what a delight to feel pierced by the arrow of Eros.
Once I had paid for my order without even looking up, I took a few steps back to a less crowded corner of the bar.
I needed to verify that this fleeting apparition was indeed real. Like a naturalist on an expedition, I was able to appreciate this creature from my observation post. My eyes could not take my eyes off his left arm, especially the biceps that tensed to activate the beer tap. The festival organizers must have made a mistake in the size, because his volunteer t-shirt was visibly too small for him, which made the tension in his muscles stand out even more. With the heat, I could even discern the shadow of a vein on his forearm, all that life pulsing inside him.
I wanted to trace my tongue along that vein, take my time down to his neck. Taste his skin and the saltiness of his sweat, then continue my exploration to his mouth. Savor that tension, that suspended moment before meeting his lips that were a little too fleshy for his fine features. I burned to slide my tongue between his lips as I grabbed his hips to press my body against his. And to slowly lower my hand down his torso, brushing his navel to reach the bulge between his legs.
Lost in the most unspeakable regions of my imagination, I didn't see myself downing this beer in one go. After all, it was hot, wasn't it?
Drunk with desire, I found myself ordering him a second drink. I needed to gather more details to feed the scenario that was gradually invading my graphic designer's mind, until then populated with color charts and fonts. This time, I dared to thank him by looking him in the eye. Yet, I felt naked, certain that my desire was oozing through every pore of my skin. He held my gaze and said to me in hesitant English: " It's my break, will you have your drink with me? "
It's impossible to know if I answered in Italian, English or French, but it was yes.
We sat at a table a little apart, away from the clamor of the bar.
The aura of the confident bartender had faded. He struck up a conversation, but had a hard time looking me in the eye, pretending to watch the musicians set up on stage in the distance. I found it incredibly endearing. I had always had a weakness for men who, despite their outward appearance of confidence, revealed a certain vulnerability when they found themselves alone with a woman.
It wasn’t just the awkwardness that attracted me, but also the way he tried to maintain a facade of a guy who knew what he was doing while struggling with the inner maelstrom of his emotions. It was obvious he was used to playing the role of the ideal of masculinity in public, the sexy, impassive bartender, but I could see that smooth image cracking as the seconds ticked by. It made me want him even more.
Every time our eyes met almost by accident, I felt an electric tension that seemed to bind us.
I tried to keep the conversation light despite the flood of images of our bodies merging with each other that flooded my thoughts.
“ Is this your first time volunteering here? ” - vision of him lifting my skirt as I lay on the same table where we share a drink.
" No, I live in France in Lyon. I'm only here for a few days. " - he, bare-chested, enters me without further ado in the humidity of this summer evening.
" Ah, yes, it's very pretty Verona " - he slides his fingers into my mouth while looking me straight in the eyes and asking me if the rhythm of his hip thrusts suits me.
We continued to exchange pleasantries, proof that the attraction was palpable. It was obvious that there were two of us lost in this burning abyss of desire.
Without thinking, I asked him if he wanted to come home with me after his shift. It wasn't courage, nor a bold attempt at seduction, just an instinctive response to my body's urgency, this irresistible need to feel his warmth against mine, to discover every corner of his being.
He smiled and arranged to meet me at midnight at the same place.
Chapter 5
July 29 - Back at the villa
The villa was quiet when we returned from the festival. A quick glance at Chouchou's room to make sure she was asleep and we tiptoed to the kitchen for a cold lemonade and then out to the balcony. I quietly closed the door behind us, not wanting to risk waking my best friend.
The city lights had partly dimmed, giving us a breathtaking view of the starry sky. It was as if the celestial vault had dressed up in its finest attire to celebrate this evening with us. The coolness of the night enveloped us as we silently sipped our drinks.
I hadn't realized how small this balcony was. It was so small that I could smell the scent of my mysterious bartender with the unruly locks of hair. I could almost feel his warm breath caressing my skin. After finishing his drink, he approached me, murmuring , " Che bellezza. "
Our eyes met, and without a word, our lips found each other. The kiss was soft at first, then I went to explore his tongue with mine. I slid it between his lips before kissing him passionately. My hands were pressed against his chest and his slid from my back to my hips. This desire already very present since our meeting continued to swell in the pit of my stomach and between my legs.
His hands slid over the top of my buttocks, running over my curves with exquisite slowness. The latter responded to each of his caresses and ignited under his skillful fingers. He pulled my dress up over my hips and pressed his body against mine to guide me slowly against the railing.
His kisses left my mouth to go down my neck. His mouth stopped for a moment to nibble my earlobe before continuing its course. My entire being was hanging on his lips. Each new movement made a wave of desire surge through me even more intense than the last. He ran his tongue over my throat then between my breasts, the nipples of which he grazed through the dress. Before I realized what was happening, he was on his knees in front of me. He grabbed the edges of my panties already soaked with desire before asking me in a whisper " Can I? "
He slid my panties down and I felt his breath fan the inside of my thighs. He kissed them greedily as my body arched against the railing. How could the mere breath of a man who took his time give me more pleasure than many of my previous relationships where they went straight to penetration? I didn't have time to search for an answer, my sensations brought me back to the present moment. A shock ran through my body as his tongue moved up to the hollow of my groin.
Kneeling before me, he had me at his mercy.
Then came the fateful moment.
The tip of his tongue rested on my clitoris already full of desire.
The ground gave way beneath my feet.
This pleasure that kept building inside me was just waiting to explode.
The movements of his tongue became more insistent, tracing circles around my clit. He knew what he was doing, the bugger.
My hands gripped his black hair, searching for an anchor in this whirlwind of sensations. The need rose inside me like a burning tension that was just waiting to explode. My moans were muffled by the night and melted into the song of the cicadas.
He continued, alternating between nervous licks and gentler caresses along my vulva to the entrance of my vagina. The boundaries of my body were gradually dissolving into the infinity of the Milky Way. I was nothing more than a blaze illuminating Romantic Verona.
My head fell back and in a flash, I feverishly saw the stars that seemed to sparkle even more than when we arrived. A smile played on my lips and I nodded to the Goddess, grateful for this gift.
The ecstasy was building as I tightened my thighs around his face. But I didn't want to finish just yet . I stopped him by releasing him from the vice and lifting his head with my hands. I wanted to feel him plunge into me.
He stood up smiling and I kissed him again tasting the salt of my own desire on his lips.
Without a word, I pulled him towards my room, closing the door behind us to drown out our noises. Moonlight poured through the curtains, bathing the room in a silvery glow.
Our clothes fell to the floor, tracing the pilgrimage from the door to the bed. Once on it, he took a moment to slip on a condom with quick, confident movements. Then our bodies found each other instinctively. I could feel his muscles tense as he positioned himself above me, his eyes boring into mine with disarming intensity.
Without taking his eyes off me, he used his glans to delicately spread the lips of my vulva and brush my clitoris.
The desire was so powerful that I could have whispered " Ti amo " to him and never regretted it.
With him already inside me, I whispered in his ear, asking if he wanted to try something different . He nodded, his eyes shining with excitement and curiosity. Without him having to pull away, I grabbed the Kiss that was languishing on my nightstand. I had slipped it into my suitcase in the hopes that the urge to please myself alone would rear its ugly head.
With a knowing smile, I showed him how to use it on me as I gently placed it against my clit. After several adjustments, we finally found the right intensity and he, the right movement.
The sensation was immediate and I was shaken by a jolt of pure pleasure. He watched me, fascinated, as I struggled not to scream. My hips lifted off the bed to meet every movement of his pelvic thrusts.
I could hear his panting breath close to my face and I could catch those brief moments where his eyes rolled back and his head fell back, dizzy from the sensations. Seeing him let himself be consumed by his pleasure only fueled mine. His movements became faster and more urgent. Our bodies were in perfect harmony.
The mixture of his thrusts inside me and the vibrations of the Kiss quickly pushed me to the edge of the abyss.
Whoever said that the missionary was deadly boring never took his time.
I was on the verge of ecstasy, every fiber of my being straining toward this imminent release.
“ Don’t make any noise, ” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear.
But it was impossible.
The moment the orgasm surged through me, I couldn't help but let out a choked cry, my muscles contracting around him with uncontrollable force. He was both the storm rocking my ship, but also the anchor I clung to. He pulled out slowly, looking at me with a satisfied smile.
“ I loved watching you cum. ” He whispered, his fingers tracing circles on my still trembling skin. I smiled weakly as I asked, “ Do you want me to help you finish? ” He told me he had enjoyed it a lot and that it suited him that way.
My eyes closed in exhaustion and satisfaction. We fell asleep entwined, our bodies still wet with desire, lulled by the sweet melody of the Italian night.
Early in the morning, I woke up and found a note written on the back of a months-old movie ticket: Alberto with a phone number. Damn, I had come this close to fulfilling my fantasy with a stranger.
If I didn't know his name until the next day, that still counts, right?
Chapter 5
July 30 - Padua
The next morning, I joined Chouchou in the kitchen for breakfast. Chouchou, who seemed free of her PMS, gave me a knowing look before asking, “So, how was your evening, my dear Coco?”
I briefly told her about my meeting with Alberto, leaving out the most intimate details. She watched me squirm and choose my words with a smirk. “I’m so happy for you! To be honest, I heard you come in and I quickly realized you weren’t alone when you started giggling. Once you went out on the balcony, I drifted off again. It’s cool, you didn’t bother me,” she reassured me.
After enjoying our coffee and toast, we packed our bags and headed to Venice. The prospect of spending three days in this magical city filled us with excitement. We had rented a little red vintage Fiat 500 to immerse ourselves in la dolce vita. The first hour of driving was totally in keeping with the cliché of the sweet Italian life. I was relaxed and lost in my memories of the previous night as I contemplated the landscape.
Everything seemed perfect until the car made strange noises before stopping abruptly in the countryside.
“No, no, no, not now!” I screamed, pounding on the steering wheel as panic set in. My need to control everything was resurfacing, yet I was convinced he would leave me alone. I wasn’t allowed to enjoy a full day without feeling anxiety tapping me on the shoulder. Was that too much to ask?
Fortunately, providence was on our side. A couple of women stopped on the side of the road before coming towards us.
Ana had a reassuring presence with her short black hair and sparkling eyes behind her thin glasses. Petra, on the other hand, possessed a classic Italian beauty.
“Need a hand?” Ana asked with a big smile.
After we explained our situation, they helped us contact the rental company. They explained that it was better to have Italian women on the other end of the line to avoid any scams. And it worked! The company took care of picking up our car and bringing us a new one. We had done well to take out this insurance.
In the meantime, they invited us to their home, an apartment outside Padua with a breathtaking view of a canal.
“Are you sure? We wouldn’t want to disturb,” I hesitated, although the prospect of a cool break was more than tempting.
"Sure, come. It's the least we can do," Petra replied sincerely. And off we went, in the car of these two providential angels.
On the way, I found myself watching Petra. There was something hypnotic about her. The lines of expression that ran across her face told of a life well lived. You could see that she was a woman who had had doubts as much as bursts of laughter. She was beautiful with her hair that had faded a few weeks ago; you could see a few white roots reclaiming their rights. I don't know if I wanted her or wanted to be her. It was a feeling as unsettling as it was fascinating.
Once we arrived at their home, I felt immediately welcomed. Their apartment was a haven of peace, bathed in natural light and tastefully decorated. Ana served us fresh lemonade while Petra showed us the guest room. Finally settled in their living room, I suddenly realized that letting go of what is beyond our control can often lead to situations far more beautiful than anything we could have imagined. Sometimes, the people I share this vast planet with turn out to be very kind and willing to help. I had a sudden burst of confidence in life. I had the right to count on others and that, if they were not there, I had all the resources to get myself out of a complicated situation.
To thank Ana and Petra for their hospitality, Chouchou and I invited them to a restaurant that evening. We chose a charming little establishment near the canal. Around a table lit by candles, we embarked on a study of the cultural differences between Italy and France.
"You French women are always complaining! But sometimes it's to your credit, because you manage to make things happen in your country," Ana remarked mischievously.
“And you Italians put so much passion into every word! It’s a gift to be so expressive. We’re all stuck at home,” I replied, laughing.
"But which of us are the best lovers?" Chouchou asked, always ready to tease me. "So Coco, you who were able to test both nationalities, don't you want to give us a little comparison?"
I blushed slightly but accepted the challenge. "Well, let's just say that Verona deserves its title as the city of love."
Laughter erupted around the table and soon the conversation drifted to each person's wildest summer experiences.
Petra was the first to share. “It was a good two decades ago in Sicily. I went there every year for a few weeks to my grandmother’s. I must have been barely 18 and I spent my time reading outside. That’s how I met Carla. She was a little older than me. After a few weeks of hanging out and discussing literature, we met up one evening to go to the movies. We ended the evening in a small cove making love. I still had very little experience and she took the time to make me come first and then guided me towards her pleasure. She taught me a lot that summer. We kept in touch for a few years then, with my studies, I changed address and this idyll has remained one of the memories I cherish the most.”
Chouchou took over.
“Well, I’m going to tell you about one of my less glorious adventures. A few years ago, I went on a solo vacation to Ardèche. I needed to disconnect, to take some time for myself. That’s where I met a musician in a small local bar. He was part of a band that played vintage rock songs. He was hot if, like me, you like the tortured poet genre. After the concert, we had a drink and chatted. I let myself be tempted by the idea of seeing him again.”
Chouchou paused, recalling the details as he rolled his eyes. “So after a fairly mundane date where he mostly talked about himself, his injuries, and his music, we ended up spending the night together. And then, the drama.”
You know how it is with some men: they think they have the skills to please us innately. As if pounding the vulva hard enough would inevitably hit the clitoris at some point. As if a first sigh of pleasure meant “OK, it’s good to go back in, buddy.” Well, this was one of those guys. It was like he was trying to make a fire with my clitoris, the way he was rubbing it with his fingers. He seemed desperately searching for something that wasn’t there.
I couldn't help but laugh as I imagined the scene, while Petra and Ana listened, amused. Chouchou continued.
"He was so clumsy that I had the misfortune of telling him no when he asked me if I had come. He got really offended and tried to tell me that it was probably me who was frigid. Luckily I was already an adult, but that kind of feedback can destroy the little self-confidence of a teenager who is discovering sexuality. Ah, the ego of musicians! They are often a little too proud to accept criticism, even the most constructive."
She shrugged. “But you know what’s great about women is that they always know what they’re doing. In my relationships with them, there’s never been a misunderstanding or a war of pride. They take their time, they’re attentive, and they know exactly how to make me come. They understand that clitoral stimulation is essential and they know that it’s the key to a truly satisfying experience.”
The two women laughed in unison, Petra adding with a wink: "Indeed, we know what we do with that! But be careful, they are not all sex goddesses, you must have had some great encounters."
Ana, amused, turned to Chouchou. "So, we can say that your evenings with the musicians were not always a resounding success, but that they allowed you to appreciate even more the moments of happiness with women. It's a nice lesson on the importance of patience and attention."
I took a sip of wine before launching into the conversation, “That said, there are still guys who know what they’re doing. Some know about the clitoris and the basics of female pleasure. Believe me, that makes all the difference.”
Chouchou, visibly intrigued, tilted her head with a mischievous look. "Really? You seem to have kept some details to yourself this morning. Come on, you've already said too much!"
I couldn't help but smile as I remembered the night before. "Okay, okay. Alberto... He really took his time. He was focused on what was giving me pleasure and listened to my feedback. He wasn't in a rush or a performance. He was attentive to my every reaction, alternating with rare finesse between gentleness and passion. We took the time to let the pleasure build and it was incredible the whole time, not just during the orgasm."
Chouchou burst out laughing, relieved. “Ah, that’s nice to hear! There’s more and more content around women’s pleasure and positive sexuality. I’ve seen a lot of books and things on social media. It’s so cool, we’re all going to be equal in pleasure!”
The evening continued like this, punctuated by laughter, confidences and the sweet scent of budding friendships. I couldn’t help but think that our meeting with Ana and Petra was not just a coincidence. Even though we weren’t in Venice yet, they gave us an equally authentic and memorable Italian experience.
Chapter 6
Venice - August 1st
This day was unlike any other. I had planned to get lost in the alleys of Venice, but life had other plans. With the car broken down and the news not going to arrive until the evening, Chouchou and I found ourselves spending the day at Ana and Petra's. They had gone to work this morning, and Chouchou was catching up on the last two episodes of his favorite series in the living room.
At first, the idea of doing nothing left me perplexed. Should I answer some overdue emails? Maybe organize my schedule to prepare for the start of the school year? But as I looked up at the blue sky above me, a new feeling made me shiver. I didn't want to think about work, or organization; I was on vacation in Italy after all!
I pulled out a novel that I had given up hope of finishing a few weeks ago, and settled into a deck chair on the terrace. After a few pages, my attention flew beyond the printed lines. The whisper of the wind in the leaves, the scent of flowers in the air, the warmth of the sun on my skin: everything seemed to conspire to invite me to enjoy this day. An infinite sweetness invaded me, a feeling of peace that I had not felt for a long time. I put my book on my knees and closed my eyes to better savor this pleasant torpor.
I woke up a few minutes later more relaxed and from this absolute serenity, a new thirst grew in me. I wanted to do something that would please me while taking time just for me.
My festival adventures had rekindled my appetite, it was time to treat myself to a moment of solo pleasure. I remembered that I had slipped Le Bisou into my suitcase, I hadn't yet had the opportunity to test it alone.
So I retreated to the guest room, closing the door softly behind me. The atmosphere was perfect and the silence, almost sacred. I took out Le Bisou and lay down on the bed.
I first slid my hand under the elastic of my skirt to feel my vulva and my clitoris through the fabric of my panties. I caressed myself like that for a few minutes, navigating between relaxation and pleasure. I liked feeling the soft fabric against my skin, the slight resistance it offered to my caresses awakened my senses in a new way.
Little by little, my fingers slipped under the lace. The direct contact with my clitoris sent a wave of shivers through me. I started with light pressure, then drew small circles. I concentrated on the sensations that were rising and on this energy that was pulsing gently inside me. Each movement of my fingers and each pressure gave me a quick preview of the pleasure to come. I could feel the heat that was settling between my thighs.
The first waves of desire began their surge, I grabbed the Bisou and let my panties slide down to my ankles. After putting a small dose of lubricant on the vibrator, I brought it close to the inside of my thighs then to my vulva without turning it on, as if they were getting to know each other. I rolled its round head in small circles to separate the lips. I then turned on the vibrations starting with the lowest.
I took my time, gradually increasing the intensity. The Kiss went from the gentlest mode to a slightly faster pace. The vibrations, although still light, began to transport me. I closed my eyes, focusing only on this feeling of pure pleasure.
To further arouse my pleasure, I amused myself by controlling it by lowering the head of the Bisou towards the entrance of my vagina when the excitement intensified too much on my clitoris. Then I slowly went back up, delighting in this languorous ascent to the thousands of nerve endings of my clitoris. I tightened my thighs around the head of the Bisou to accentuate the contact with my intimacy. I felt every inch of the vibrator against me. My hips undulated in rhythm. My pelvis accompanied each pulsation and each quiver.
The orgasm began to build, slowly, deeply, like a powerful wave forming in the distance. My muscles tensed as the point of no return approached. I wanted to savor this moment balanced on the edge of the cliff of ecstasy.
The Kiss, now in rhythmic and intense vibration mode, was perfectly in tune with my body and with my desire. Each pulsation became a new discharge of pleasure even more intense than the previous one.
My breathing became faster, shorter, my hips began to move instinctively, seeking to amplify this sensation further.
Then the orgasm burst through me, sweeping everything away. It wasn't a simple discharge, but a real shock wave. I gave myself over to this very particular mixture of heat, tingling and dull contractions. My whole body was crossed by a series of spasms. Every muscle, every nerve reacted to this intense release of pleasure.
My back arched, my hands gripped the handle of my vibrator and a soft moan escaped me. The world around me had disappeared, only the taste of absolute pleasure remained.
A gentle warmth settled in every fiber of my body as the contractions in my vagina gradually faded. A feeling of lightness invaded me: the orgasm had taken with it everything that weighed on me. My mind was now clear and serene.
Lying there, with the Kiss resting peacefully beside me, I enjoyed the calm after the storm. I felt so well lulled by this comforting fullness.
It was not just a physical release, but a deep reconnection with my being. I had allowed myself a moment outside of time where I could exist without constraints, without expectations.
I understood how essential it is to allow yourself real moments of pleasure, whether sexual or sensory, to remind yourself that this body, this life, belongs entirely to me.
As I emerged from this session, a new clarity dawned on me. It was time to reorganize my life, to include more of these moments of reconnection in my daily life. Too often, I had let obligations and stress dictate my schedule.
It was not just a parenthesis in a life that was far too busy, but a necessity. From now on, I will grant myself these blocks of time just for me, where work, obligations and worries will have no place.
I wanted to live more spontaneously, to allow myself to change plans, to say yes to the unexpected and, above all, to enjoy the best that life had to offer.
Mid-afternoon arrived, and with it our new rental car. After thanking Ana and Petra a good hundred more times, we hit the road to Venice. On the way, I told Chouchou of my resolution. She looked at me with that knowing smile I know so well.
Arriving in Venice, the magic happened immediately. With its sparkling canals, poetic bridges and elegant gondolas, the Serenissima and its thousand-year-old history set our senses ablaze.
As the light gradually faded, we found ourselves in Campo Santi Giovanni e Paolo, a beautiful and quiet square, far from the hustle and bustle of the big tourist sites. The golden lights of the street lamps reflected on the cobblestones and in the canals in an atmosphere that was almost real.
I sat down on a bench facing the majestic church and took out my phone.
“Hello, Alberto. I have two nights left in Verona after my trip to Venice. How about spending one together?”
I reread those few words several times before pressing "send." A mixture of excitement and apprehension washed over me. Had I made the right decision? I preferred not to think about it, letting things unfold naturally, as I had learned this week.
Chouchou came back with two gelatos to celebrate my new resolution. We continued our night walk, our steps guiding us between the rios, the corti and the campi.
Then, as we passed a small bookstore inhabited by cats, I felt my bag vibrate.
“I would be very happy to see you again. I know a beautiful place in Verona that I would like to show you. I promise you an even more memorable evening… And not just for the view. ;)”
A smile played on my lips. A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine, my imagination was already wandering. What awaited me in Verona remained a mystery, but I was ready to surrender to it.
The rest of the adventure promised to be as unpredictable as it was intoxicating. But for now, I focused on the beauty of Venice, on this day spent with Chouchou and on the simple happiness of enjoying what life has to offer: sharing moments with loved ones, trying new things, experiencing beautiful encounters, strolling, drinking, eating, masturbating.
END
