my hands from his buttocks and roamed his body. I closed my eyes, and I once again found all of those mounds and crevices that had excited me about my Kyle. The same big, taut nipples surrounded with the same coin-sized, rough-textured aureoles. The same surprising thick patch of curly blond hair running across his pecs and down his sternum and belly to meet with his thick profusion of pubic hair—the hair on his arms, legs, and chest so blond that it hardly was noticeable to the eye, but was oh so silky to the touch.

He pushed me back onto the bed and was kneeling above my chest now, forcing his cock down into my mouth and throat like a piledriver, trying to get it all inside my mouth. I sputtered and pulled away long enough to beg him to slow down, but just like Kyle, he was relentless in his attack.

"Later, later," he said back to me in a throaty voice, just as Kyle had done. "Big. Make me big now. I want you to feel every inch of my length and width when I show you what an American stud can do to an Italian count’s ass."

I’d already known what an American stud could do to me, I wanted to yell back at him. But I also didn’t want him to stop. Kyle had always given it to me rough to start, which had only made his subsequent tender lovemaking all that better.

Dakota was out of my mouth now, and he’d gone down below the edge of the bed and his mouth, and then his tongue, were at my asshole. The rimming, kissing, licking, nibbling and tongue plunging went on for several minutes, and it felt wonderful. Oh, what had I given up for my responsibilities to my family? It had been so long since my body had been this awake, since it had been played so expertly and completely. I almost cried out in grief that I was being given this reminder in the autumn of my years of what might have been, what joy I could have had if I had not been so tied to the responsibility and luxury of Tuscany.

And now he was stuffing that huge sausage of his brutally inside me. He had his hands under my buttocks and was rotating my hips back and forth on his huge cock head, pushing himself into me. Just like Kyle would do. I closed my eyes tightly again and imagined it was Kyle taking me brutally and totally again, just as he had done the day I told him of my impending marriage and what that meant. The last time I’d ever seen Kyle. I opened my eyes, and through the haze of my aging pupils, I saw Kyle’s beautiful torso again pushing in between my spread thighs. The same strong, rolling muscles. Biceps; pecs; heaving, flat belly. Hard, bobbing nipples and silky, golden torso hair. His ruggedly handsome-featured face was all intensity, painted with the determination to plug my withering hole with his young, vigorous cock. His blond curls billowed around his head in the waning rays of light reflected up from the Mediterranean waters and through the French windows.

"Kyle, Kyle, Kyle," I sang to myself, and I found myself relaxing. Kyle had returned to me and was fucking me in that old, wonderful way we had found that pleased us both.

As the muscles at the center of me relaxed, Dakota’s bulbous dick