Isabella Awakening Ch. 02

Anton remained for some minutes between her legs, whispering and murmuring as if in communion with her sex. He watched through the thicket of black curls as Isabella's eyes met his. After licking her thighs, and with a final gentle kiss to her mound, he raised himself, leant over her now languid body and placed his mouth once more upon hers. Isabella kissed him deeply, tasting and smelling her own musk.

Anton's hands slowly resumed their exploration of Isabella's body and she felt his gentleness coaxing her back to arousal. She opened her mouth to say something, but Anton preempted any speech with a finger to her lips. He positioned himself between her open thighs, raising her knees with his hands. As he moved forward to kiss her again, Isabella felt the hot tip of his hard cock against her wet opening. His unspoken question was answered with a whispered "yes" and he gently pushed into her.

Anton had anticipated resistance from Isabella's hymen but found none. She was tight but very wet and his cock was welcomed, even pulled, into her belly. He stroked Isabella's hair and kissed her forehead and then her lips before looking deeply into her eyes. He was overwhelmed by her beauty and the ageless wisdom of her eyes as they looked within him and told him what to do. As the tightness of her vagina began to relax and accept him, he gently started to fuck her; several slow, half strokes at first, then resting to gauge her response. Isabella's mouth was open in a silent "oh" and her hands were around his neck. As he increased the rhythm and depth of his penetration, she raised her head to see for herself his slick shaft appearing and disappearing beneath her forest. Resting back now, she raised her knees higher and uttered an audible "yes", signaling Anton to increase the pace. He did so and Isabella began to hump her hips and groan.

Anton had not expected such abandonment from so young and inexperienced a lover and had to remind himself to be gentle and patient. Isabella's reaction to his thrusts was so honest and wanton that it was like fucking Serena in her prime and he had to restrain his impulse to plunder her with unrestrained passion. His sadness and hesitation at that fleeting thought of his darling Serena, was washed away as Isabella, in a voice deeper and more guttural than he had expected, grunted "more!" and started to throw her head from side to side. Anton abandoned all thought and drove his cock deep and fast into Isabella's hungry cunt. He felt the couch bouncing and heaving under them until Isabella thrust her legs straight up and released a long throaty sigh of pleasure. Anton swiftly embraced her and pulled her close, covering her entire body with his and cooing her name. He felt her tremble and clench as she reached her second orgasm, gripping his cock and releasing it in a cascade of warm fluid that soaked his balls.

They lay like that for some minutes as Isabella's mind swam with images and pure colour and her body pulsed and sang. Her breathing gradually slowed and Anton released her from his embrace. He could not repress a smile as he noticed her sweat plastered hair and slightly vacant expression. He blew a stream of cool air over her blushing breasts and Isabella acknowledged him with a smile of her own. They kissed and Anton slid out of her and onto his knees. He moved Isabella to a lying position and placed a cushion under her head. Breaking his own transfixed state, he stood and left the room to return a moment later with a large soft woven towel that he wrapped around his prone young lover.

Isabella noticed Anton's still hard cock. "Oh Anton, have I failed you?" she asked.

Anton did not understand the question until he followed the line of her gaze to his waist. He smiled.

"Of course you haven't failed me my love. Quite the contrary. I was so overwhelmed by you and so bound up in your pleasure that I completely forgot my own physical needs. You should take that as a great compliment my dear. For one so young to mesmerize an experienced lover to the point of his own annihilation is a wondrous and marvelous gift."

"You are more wonderful that I could have ever imagined. It is as if you had been possessed by the soul of..." Anton halted but recovered his flow quickly with "...a great and powerful lover of another era".

They sat together, naked on that leather couch, for another hour as the fire in the hearth died down to a few glowing logs and the pale autumn sun set on the outside world. Anton found his voice as a lover; something that he had thought lost, and Isabella felt her life had changed forever. They stroked and fondled each other and talked of love and life and books and music. Anton described the joys of youthful adventures and of seduction and Isabella asked him questions about his love for Serena and the differences between the women he had loved or fucked for fun. Isabella had no illusions about the nature of her love for Anton, nor his for her. They found they had a natural connection that was outside of their normal lives and fates, as if their time together existed in another universe. The contrast between their bodies; his care-worn and nearly 50, although as yet still well defined by muscle and sinew, and hers, as nubile as a fawn, was irrelevant, and perhaps even added to the special nature of the relationship they were forging.

As the embers of the fire died and a slight chill drove them from the couch to the hearth, Isabella remembered her brother's fondness for his own oily palm. She excused herself to use Anton's bathroom and while there searched for, and found, a small jug of olive oil. Back in Anton's study, Isabella found him collecting their clothes.

"Just a few moments, Anton." She said, smiling. "We have one further task before we part."

She took the towel from the couch and laid it over the red and brown rug in front of the fire.

"Please lie down. On your back. That's right."

Isabella knelt beside Anton's waist and poured a small pool of the oil into her right palm and rubbed her hands together.

Looking at Anton's face, she said, "Do forgive me. I've never done this before." Before Anton could reply, she had taken his not quite limp cock in her hands and was massaging the oil along its length. Anton's surprised "oh, dear" only made her smile. His rapid hardening caught them both by surprise.

Isabella was thrilled at the reaction and was soon sliding her fist up and down the length of a perfectly hard cock, something she had long dreamt about. Her hand could not close around the thick shaft but her grip was firm. Anton arched his back as her pace quickened. Instinctively, or perhaps because of her brother's frequent demonstrations in the bathroom at home, Isabella knew how to stimulate the head and underside of the penis, she knew how and when to gently hold Anton's balls with her free hand, cradling the base of the shaft between thumb and forefinger and pressing gently. Her soft hands caressed his silky hardness, squeezing him slightly and running her thumb under the deep pink glans with each stroke. Anton was surprised to find himself unable to hold back his release and felt the rise of his seed and the constriction of his balls just as the first spurt of creamy come flew onto his chest. Isabella milked him just as she had seen her sister milk her brother, and even playfully licked the final droplet of semen from the tiny lips of Anton's cock.

Isabella's girlish giggle at her success made them both laugh out loud. Their final embrace that evening, sticky as it was, was one of deep appreciation and a promise of everlasting friendship.

Reflecting on her experience that evening alone in her own bed, Isabella was very aware of the gulf between her own feelings and instincts and the attitudes of society around her. Deep in her being, she felt a great satisfaction and an almost spiritual appreciation of the power she had experienced, and yet she also knew that what had happened was "wrong", that both she and Anton had sinned. In her dreams that night, she was counseled and comforted by the great and beautiful woman who told her that she was both blessed and cursed with the power to see through the veil that shrouded the human soul. Isabella meditated on that dream for most of the next morning, resolving to welcome and encourage that woman to become more and more part of her inner life.

In the months that followed Isabella's deflowering, and before her parents returned from Spain, she an Anton met often. For Isabella, her liaison with Anton was as much a part of her education as were her evenings with Ovid or the other great authors. She learnt about her own, and Anton's, deepest needs and how thought and action could combine to bring new heights of sensual pleasure. She lived a fantasy life, quizzing Anton like a schoolmistress about men and lust and the many ways that pleasure can be taken or destroyed. Anton gave of himself freely, enjoying the opportunity to pass on to this wonderful, surprising young woman knowledge and insights that he himself had either gained through numerous affairs or, more frequently, that had been given or demonstrated to him by his own teacher, the departed but never forgotten Serena.

But their intimacy went far beyond the physical and theoretical aspects of passion and sex. They discussed philosophy and music and art and the great themes running through mythology. They told each other stories, some remembered, some invented, and never tired of exploring their connection to each other and the world.

On one particular evening, while a winter storm raged outside, Isabella sat naked in Anton's lap and asked him to tell her the story of himself and Serena. Anton was initially reluctant to give details but with a little playful coaxing and gentle caressing of his cock, he told her their story. Isabella was surprised to learn of the intertwined lives of her own parents and those of Anton and Serena.

It was in the early 1720's that Serena and Marisa had arrived together in Naples. No one knew where they came from, other than that they had traveled from Florence after spending many years at school in France. Their parentage and status was unknown, but was of little importance to the young men of Naples who had never seen such beauty and sophistication before. Their arrival, in a red carriage pulled by four black stallions, was talked about all over Naples for weeks and they had taken up residence in one of the finest guesthouses on the river. Within a week, they were holding parties and musical evenings in the grand fashion and all the nobles and well-connected merchants were angling for invitations. The young women of the town were privately suspicious and angry that their suitors would be so infatuated with these women, but they were also anxious to be included in the new and exciting world of stylish and urbane nightlife that Serena and Marisa had created.

Meanwhile, Alberto and Anton, struggling young merchants at that time, were more eager than most to meet and, hopefully seduce, these exotic beauties. But they were well down the pecking order and would have had to conspire, bribe and fabricate their way onto the women's' guest list. According to Anton, it was only by a stroke of luck that he and Alberto found themselves at the guesthouse one evening and were able to rescue Serena and Marisa from the unwelcome attentions of a group of drunken cavalry officers. The group of five had taken bets amongst themselves on their individual chances of successfully bedding the women and, after a heavy session at the local inn, they were now struggling to simultaneously make good their own seductions and to ruin those of their comrades and rivals. Naturally, fistfights had started and they were becoming serious when Anton and Alberto chanced upon the scene. They surreptitiously managed to escort the women to a quiet room on the first floor and chivalrously introduced themselves as up-and-coming businessmen of the very highest calibre. Whether or not Serena and Marisa believed their stories, or whether they simply saw the potential of these two handsome young upstarts, they took them into their circle and eventually made lovers of them. Isabella was a little confused and suspicious of Anton's version of the story, particularly as to whether or not there was an instant and permanent pairing of her own parents and of Serena and himself. It occurred to Isabella that it was certainly possible that another combination had been tried before settling on the arrangements later sanctified by marriage. Anton was not to be drawn, however, on the subject of his and Marisa's premarital relations.

Both Isabella and Anton knew that their time together as lovers and confidants would end with the return to Naples of Maria and Alberto, when Isabella would resume her role as the naïve youngest daughter in the Silverto household and Anton his as their oldest friend. And yet, while this touch of sadness hung over them, particularly towards the end of that time, they shared a far greater joy in the knowledge that their connection was timeless and had already left a permanent mark on them both and on the universe they inhabited.

And indeed, life did return to normal when Isabella's parents returned from Spain. It was difficult at first for Isabella to feign joy at their reappearance and to listen attentively to their stories of foreign sights and customs, of the weather in Barcelona and Castile and Madrid, of the terrible food and the smelly black sailors. Her heart called out for Anton but she now knew that their weeks of secret but unrestrained passion would now be replaced with the occasional furtive meeting when rare circumstances allowed her a few precious hours in his bed.

From that day until she was married to Henri two years later, Isabella truly led a double life. In her own mind and when alone in her room, and when she was with Anton, she was a woman; expressive, sensuous, curious and able to reach such heights of ecstasy that she could loose herself in the universe of her soul. When she was with her parents, she was the dutiful daughter, still a child, who hung on their every word and command.

With Anton's urging and support, and following her own inclinations, she took other lovers when she could. Young men were easy to seduce, but Isabella soon learnt that her own needs and knowledge far surpassed the talents of even the most ardent youth. Returning to Anton after each encounter, she would relate her own feelings and give thanks for his, and her own, deeper understanding and passion. She actually felt sorry for the boys, as she called them, who could do little more than fuck her for a few minutes before coming on her dress or in her mouth. Anton began to fear for her future and half-regretted his own role in opening Isabella to the wonders that lay beyond the urgent gratification of animal desire.

Indeed, he was beside himself when Isabella's father, his dear friend Alberto, announced her engagement to that preening little poofe, Henri Jousta. Alberto tried in vain to convince Alberto and Marisa that other, more appropriate, suitors were preferable. In the end, after Isabella urged him to accept the inevitable, he desisted rather than offend Isabella's parents or, worse, alert them to the reasons behind his concerns.

It was the week before her marriage that Isabella and Anton met for one last afternoon of intimacy. It was after that particularly passionate session of lovemaking that Anton presented Isabella with his special wedding gift. With great reverence, he had handed her a fine chamois leather pouch containing a heavy smooth object, explaining that it had belonged to his dear Serena and that he was sure she would have wanted Isabel to have it. Isabella pulled the object from its pouch and was immediately confused. It was a white ivory-like cigar-shaped object, about 10 inches long and smoothly pointed at one end with a slightly bulbous protrusion at the other. A slightly raised close spiral ran from just above the base to the tip. Whether they were carved or natural, Isabella could not tell. Above the bulbous end and running along the spiral curve were fine blue indentations, like writing - but not in any script or language familiar to Isabella. She cradled the object in her hand, feeling its weight and smoothness. It was genuinely beautiful but Isabella still had no idea what it was or why Anton had given it to her. Anton just smiled quietly and let Isabella behold the object.

"Close your eyes while you handle it," He said.

Isabella complied and as she ran her hand over the smooth curves, she suddenly knew what it was for. A broad smile crossed her face.

"Serena called it her 'dildo'", said Anton. "She said it was her second husband. It is made of the horn of a very rare whale from the seas to the far north and is very old, apparently."

Isabella hugged Anton and thanked him, saying that she hoped she would not need another lover once she was married. Neither of them believed that to be true, but Anton kissed her and said he was sure she was right.

"I'll treasure it anyway," said Isabella. "It will remind me of you. Just the right size," she added, holding the larger end in her fist and placing the softly curved tip to her lips. Despite an afternoon of passionate sex, Isabella felt a tingle of excitement as she kissed the whalebone penis. She allowed her saliva to cover the first few inches and moved it to rest on her thigh, only a few inches from her opening.

"May I?" she asked Anton.

"Oh, please do, my love," he said, moving to position between her calves where he could get a better view.

Isabella stroked her outer lips with the head of the dildo, feeling its smoothness against her opening and letting it push against her clit.

"That's nice," she whispered.

A few more strokes and she used her other hand to part her inner lips and pushed the head into her rapidly lubricating opening.

"Oh, so nice!" she said.

Slowly and with gentle pulsing stokes, she inserted the dildo up to where her hand gripped the base, letting its smooth eight inches fill her.

Raising her thighs and spreading her knees, she gradually increased the pace of her movements, pushing and pulling the dildo into her cunt. The spiral relief of the whalehorn made it twist as it entered. Her hips involuntarily rose to meet each thrust and she was soon experiencing the rapid onset of an orgasm. It hit her suddenly and powerfully, taking her into that state of selfless abandonment with arched back, closed eyes and breathless exclamation.

Anton sat at her feet, as always transfixed by her passion and power, and stroking himself to another erection. He moved over her and kissed her softly on the lips, placing a hand over hers, still holding the whalebone cock deeply inside her.

Isabella removed the object and held it up, glistening, for them both to admire.

"It is a truly wonderful thing," she said in genuine appreciation. "Thank you, Anton." Lifting her eyes heavenwards she also whispered, "Thank you, Serena". They both smiled and embraced for what should have been the last time.

Isabella slowly came out of her reverie of remembrance, sitting there in the warm courtyard. She wondered how long she had been thinking of Anton and noticed the wetness of her drawers and the pressure of her nipples against the fabric of her dress. Her whalebone lover lay waiting in her dressing cabinet upstairs and she decided to visit him as soon as possible.

As Isabella stirred and stretched in the sun, Marisa returned to the kitchen. She was dressed in her traveling clothes, pulling on her long gloves and issuing hurried instructions to the servants. Before Isabella could move to greet her, Marisa came into the courtyard and sat beside her once again.

"My darling," she began in a low but firm voice "I have told your father that I must make an urgent visit to my cousins in Rome. I will be gone for four days. You must supervise the household while I am away. Do not discuss this with your father. He has plans for you, as you will have gathered, and he will soon announce them. In the meantime, I must do everything I can to make up to you these many years of neglect and see to your future happiness myself. Until Friday, Isabel."