undulating rhythm above me, stroking in and out above me, alternating with rotations of his hips, fucking himself on my throbbing cock. The sensation was phenomenal. I was mining him deep, and his ass canal walls, like his torso, were in perpetual motion, making love to my cock in wave after wave of caressing as it churned inside him.

I was loving this, but I wanted to still his body, wanted to feel him at peace. I slowly rolled him so that he was belly down on the blanket, and I was covering him completely from above, my thighs holding his close between them, my nipples gouging into his shoulder blades, my arms stretched on top of his, my fingers entwined with his, my pelvis churning around on his plump butt cheeks.

His torso quieted down, stopped its perpetual motion, but his hips were still in motion, a little elevated and rotating in countermotion to my downward stroking deep inside him, in the son of Tuscany, with my pulsating cock. The blanket had bunch up so that our pelvises were directly atop the rich Italian soil of the hillside. Paulo’s hard dick was stroking along the surface of the mossy grass, fucking the fertile earth of Tuscany.

I could feel myself ready to cum. I pulled my cock out so that the head was just beyond the ring near the opening to his asshole, and I found his prostrate with the tip of the head and rubbed back and forth. He was moaning and groaning especially loud now, and I felt him tense and shoot his load in the grass, spreading Ghiberti semen on the ancient Tuscan land of the noble Ghibertis, blessing the grape harvest in a ritual that just might have been part of tradition in centuries past. I ground his pelvis into the grass then, with a strong deep thrust of my cock down into the center of him, where I injected spouting after spouting of good old rejuvenating American semen into the ass of the fine old Ghiberti line, doing a little blessing of the harvest myself.

I held him pinned to the ground with my long, thick stake, waiting and hoping. He gave a long, lingering sigh, and I felt all of the tension drain out of him, leaving him at complete peace. But with the life and responsibilities he faced, I had no idea how much time for peace I’d given him. The previous day his grandfather had told me of an American just like me who had given him peace when he was not much older than Paulo was, but that this peace had been short-lived, leaving the Conte only with bittersweet memories. Perhaps I had done Paulo no favors today.