Ballad of Jolanda & Fabio

Dear Reader,

This is based on a true story. Much of it is real, while much of it is also either embellished or simply fabricated to fill in gaps… sort of like historical fiction. If you do not care for how the story turns out, the fact of the matter is I have no control over that. I am simply retelling the story of a friend. It is his story, his wife is the muse, and I, the author.

Also, I have taken creative license to tell the story through both individuals’ points of view. It should be apparent who is “speaking,” the voice of the husband or the voice of the wife. I demarcated their speech by a double line break between paragraphs. A story told from two perspectives has been done before. Please do not take issue with this style. Consider it experimental literature. Thank you for your consideration and readership.

Jolanda and Fabio

Part One – How It All Started

Chapter One – The Perfect Marriage

Hello. I am Fabio. The story begins ten years ago when I was 45 years old. But before I begin, a little about me. I am an accountant and financial manager. I’ve been working in this field since before I can remember. I am an Italian native. I have a zest for life and a deep appreciation for beauty and for family. Moreover, I worship the ground that my wife walks on. Words cannot begin to describe the feelings I have for my wife. I would die for my wife. I would go to hell and beyond for her. She is everything to me. Her happiness is my happiness. Her sorrow is my sorrow. If necessary, I would probably also kill for her. She means that much to me.

I met my wife while on the job. She needed someone to work the financials on her international business consultancy business. She’d been in this line since before I met her, and she’d been doing a bang up job. Her business had expanded enough to bring on a financial expert, and I answered the call. But I have to tell you, it wasn’t the business opportunity that drew me to her in the end… I was hit by the thunderbolt. Literally, cupid took aim and hit me right in the heart. To understand better, let me describe my Jolanda to you.

Jolanda, or “Jo” to her friends, is half Italian, half Canadienne. I met her when she was 27. She is a dirty blonde, deep set gray-blue eyes, luscious lips, tall nose, hourglass shape with a gorgeous chest and ass. To see her is to fall for her, and for me it was love at first sight. For me, making love to Jolanda is like dying and going to Heaven. Every. Single. Time. She is beautiful, elegant, classy, well-educated, self-confident, successful, with an amazing personality.

Since we began collaborating, we have found ourselves operating in Rome, Milan, and Naples, as well as frequenting Ghana. While our home is in Rome, it seems more often we are in Ghana working with local entrepreneurs to kickstart or improve their business affairs. But I digress…

I remember the first night we made love. We’d really gelled in business, and after closing an account in Milan, to celebrate I’d taken Jo to dinner followed by the opera, specifically a piece by Puccini. Afterwards, we went back to my place, I served some wine and before we finished our first class she’d pinned me to the floor in a lip-lock embrace that found us climaxing in unison before we’d even removed all of our clothing. I knew then and there that she was the one for me, and I’d do anything to keep her. Of course, the love-making didn’t end there. After showering, we got in bed and continued to make love for the next three hours. She gave me the most amazing head. I remember her bringing my cock back to life from just having had the greatest climax of my life. She sucked me for like fifteen minutes without getting tired. Then she had me bring her to climax again with my mouth. Her sex was like manuka honey. I could not get enough as I probed her hole with my tongue, explored the folds of her vaginal lips, and probed on and on until my tongue practically fell off, I couldn’t stop. I would have kept going except for her pulling me back up to her level at which time we continued our intercourse. I made love to her slow and steady for 20 minutes until climaxing. The second time. We made love two more times that night, and then we must have slept until 1pm the next afternoon. It wasn’t oversleeping that woke us… it was the starvation. We ordered room service and then did it again. I had finally found my calling in life: it was to make love to this woman until the day I died.

Hi. I’m Jolanda. You could say I’m a successful business woman. I’ve worked hard at my business, growing it from nothing to the multi-million dollar business that it is now. It’s hard succeeding as a female CEO in this world. But I did it. Granted I had help.

My husband, Fabio, was 47 when I met him. Balding, a little stocky, but very sexy. I loved his eyes, which were so sincere yet so sexy. Everytime he pleased me orally, I would stare down at that bald head and see him either focused on bringing me to orgasm or looking up at me to peek at my body or face to see if I was enjoying myself. He’s a pleaser, and I like that.

What can I say, not only is he great with the numbers, but he is even more great in bed. For what he lacks in length, he more than makes up for in girth. Really makes you feel it when he’s inside of you. And when he’s not giving it to me passionately, his mouth is on my sex, exploring me, relaxing me, sexing me.

I know I can trust him with my life, that he’d do anything for me, and I him. My life before Fabio seems like a dream, and I can hardly remember what life was like before being with him. I hear that men forget to cherish their women. That they take them for granted. That’s not Fabio. He is always making an effort. He truly wants my happiness, and he is always doing something to show he cares. I only hope that he knows how much I care about him, and that I’d do anything for him. Given the right time and opportunity, I hoped to have children, the most beautiful children ever with him. That was my dream.

Jo and I got married only a year after we got serious. And let me tell you, that first year was the best of my life. We made love constantly, and when we weren’t in bed, we were kicking ass in business. We helped so many fledgling companies establish themselves in addition to helping businesses find out what they were doing wrong, or how they could become more profitable, also providing connections with other entities to ensure they were getting the best prices for raw materials, etc. We were a powerhouse, and those who knew us gladly referred us to others because they knew we were good. Our business expanded, and that’s when we started breaking out into the millions of dollars.

Before I delve into the next chapter, I want to mention another momentous occasion in our early married years. At the time, it seemed like a harbinger of what the rest of my life would be. I booked a week in a beachside suite over on the Amalfi Coast. It was just as amazing as it sounds. During the day, we were on the beach soaking up the rays. I would feast my eyes on my gorgeous bride. Her long legs, bulbous breasts, thick ass with a tiny waist… When we were alone, she’d bask there on the sand in the nude. I’d stand watch while drinking in the sensual beauty of the adventurous love of my life. Then at night, after dining like royalty and enjoying the best vino the world had to offer, we’d retire to the villa and make sweet love into the night. One of those nights she’d had a delightful day and was feeling friskier than normal. While I was going down on her, after about ten minutes in, she pushed me down farther than usual offering me her anus. I happily obliged as her ass was the perfect proportion of chunk and curve. I would fantasize about her ass both before we started seeing each other AND after we’d gotten together.

This night she grounded her ass in my face and I took advantage. When she was satisfied, she pulled me back up, looked me dead in the face, and asked me to take her in behind. It was like a dream come true, the cherry on top. That night she gave me her ass and I gleefully took it. After massaging saliva all over my cock, and wiping more onto her hole, I slowly pushed my cock into her. She gasped as my cock slowly, slowly pushed in deeper. First the head. I paused. Then another inch. I paused again. Then another. My thick cock stretched her opening nice and wide as she accommodated me. Before long I was balls deep, and I couldn’t believe it. I slowly began to rock back and forth into my bride while she gave sweet little gasps. She said I could fuck her harder, but I was barely hanging in there without climaxing. The feeling of her soft, thick ass gently pressing against my pubis as I fought back to enter her ass was sheer bliss. Before I knew it, my cock spontaneously erupted, belching all the hot semen I’d generated in my balls since the afternoon on the beach. I can’t ever remember ejaculating so prematurely as I did in her ass. I relive moments like this in my head all the time. It’s my happy place.

This was my week on the coast with Jo. All my wildest dreams had come true. The answer to my prayers had come. I couldn’t think of why the universe had done me this solid. But I didn’t ask. I was in the moment… grateful, blissful, contented.

Chapter Two – Life Takes a Turn for the Worst

Unfortunately, after that first two years, that’s where my personal happiness began to fade. It was after two years of marriage that I developed a benign tumor in one of my testicles. I know what you’re thinking: If it was benign, then there should be no problem, right? Wrong. The doctor recommended I have it removed just to be on the safe side. After the surgery and removal of my testicle, I was diagnosed with erectile dysfunction or ED. What this meant was that while I’d be able to masturbate to completion, I’d be unable to develop a hard-on ever again. Truly there was no justice in the world. No happiness. God had given me the perfect wife to share my life with, and then took away a key component of that happiness. Our sexual happiness. Not only did I develop ED from the surgery, but I also became 90% sterile. That’s right, very low likelihood of ever having children even with the aid of artificial insemination.

My poor Jolanda, she tried to be with me throughout my ordeal. She tried to understand. Tried to cope. And for her part, she was amazing. In fact, I’m not sure how I could have coped as well as I did if it weren’t for how incredible she was throughout the process. Nevertheless, her husband could no longer give her the pleasure that she deserved. I was broken downstairs, and it was affecting my mental health as well.

For a time, I would continue to pleasure her the best I could, but it just wasn’t the same. For my part, my only way to climax was personal masturbation. At least I still had that, but it did nothing for our relationship. Many a time we’d end up masturbating by ourselves, and sometimes even in the same bed. It was surreal and saddening. Cursed.

I felt less than whole, less than a man. I contemplated all kinds of dark alternatives, but at core I still wanted and needed my Jolanda. She was my heart, my soul, my everything. Not to mention we were still business partners. Separating seemed as if it would create more problems than it would solve.

Eventually in about the course of a year I felt so bad that her sexuality and happiness was going to waste, my virility was not improving in the slightest, I actually encouraged her to go out and sleep with other men. You know, flirt around, see if she found any guys interesting, and maybe have a small affair. There was no sense in us both completely suffering. Right?

My poor Fabio. He was the best man I ever knew. The ED literally crushed him inside. He went from strong and sexy to depressed and insecure. It broke my heart that it affected him so.

Eventually he suggested I see other guys. His rationale was that so long as we stayed together, it would be okay. That it wasn’t cheating if he encouraged me. I insisted that it wasn’t right. Infidelity is cheating whether or not he approved. What if I did it and he changed his mind?

The fact is, I wasn’t dead. I missed sex. To be sure, I only truly wished to do it with Fabio, but the more he mentioned it, the more my inhibitions decreased and I started to at least entertain the thought. Thought turned into consideration, consideration turned into fantasy, fantasy into desire, desire into action.

Case in point, we had an old client we’d worked with since before I even joined with Fabio. Santino had always been into me. Like a lot of clients, it was clear since the beginning Santino wanted me given the gifts he would bring for me each business meeting. A gold necklace here, a fancy bottle of wine there. I told him it was too much, but he insisted it was the least he could do since I’d done so much for his business.

After a couple of months of seriously considering Fabio’s proposal, I surprised Santino during a business lunch between just the two of us. I suggested we hold the meeting at his hotel restaurant. And this time, hoping I was sending a message, he took a risk and suggested that we continue the meeting up in his suite. It had a large living room where we could avoid all the noise. You should have seen his face when I agreed.

My heart was racing all the way up the elevator. He still wasn’t sure I was signing up for sex, and frankly neither was I. We got to his room, and he popped open the champagne that was on ice, insisting we each have a glass. I definitely needed it if I was going to go through with it.

After a glass, he poured us both another. At this point we were sharing the couch. He asked if I’d looked at the gift he’d given me. I said I usually prefer to open gifts in private. It was more appropriate that way. He asked that I open this one, just for fun. When I opened it, I was pleasantly surprised to find it was a necklace and matching earrings made with Tahitian black pearls. They were stunning, and he decided to help me put the necklace on. I turned away as he clipped the necklace together on the back of my neck, and then he planted a kiss right at the base of my hairline. I leaned back into him, enjoying his warm lips and hands as he continued to kiss the exposed skin around my neck and shoulders. His hand embraced me around the front and explored around eventually landing on my increasingly wanting breasts. I turned my head and his lips met mine as we embraced for what must have been three minutes as we were both afraid of how to proceed, as if either of us might chicken out if we moved too fast or too much.

Finally, I reached down to his crotch to find he was very hard and probably up for going all the way. To put his mind at ease, I lowered myself to the floor, rubbing his thighs and gently rubbing across his bulge periodically. Eventually I reached for his belt and started to undo it. No protest there. I unzipped his pants. Nothing. I started to tug downward on his pants and boxers… he lifted his ass to allow them to go, eventually revealing a cock that was equal to Fabio’s in thickness but probably another inch longer. His hand reached out to the back of my head as I leaned in to dome the head of his penis. My hot mouth latched onto his cock, and he sucked air in through his teeth in ecstasy, as if it was the first time he’d ever received oral. I proceeded to give him the wettest, slowest blowjob I’d ever given. I was SO horny. I’d been sex deprived and dying for hard cock. At last here was some safe hard cock that my dear husband Fabio had endorsed. I was going to take advantage.

Eventually he beckoned me to rise and led me to the bedroom. We both removed our clothes and got inside the sheets. His body was nice and warm against mine. He was burning with desire. His hard cock pressed against my belly naggingly as we kissed some more, our tongues fighting for primacy, a battle of the kissers. Eventually I pulled him on top of me, spread my legs, reached down and positioned his hard cock at my pussy which was wetter than I ever remembered. He then began to thrust into me slowly as if he might hurt me. Frankly at that moment I don’t think he could have if he’d tried. It became obvious to him that he could let go and really go at it when my vagina gave almost no resistance and I was moaning softly while kissing him passionately. He moaned with each thrust, clearly exactly where he wanted to be most in the world at that moment. We took advantage of each other for the next two hours as he made love to me twice and we laid there in each other’s arms, enjoying each other’s company, and wishing it would never end.

Alas it was time to go. I was still married, as was Santino. It wouldn’t be the last time he made love to me. And he wouldn’t be the last guy to do so either. I had cheated on my husband, who had insisted that I cheat on him. And the world hadn’t ended. Pandora’s box had been opened, and I knew that this was only the beginning of my foray into coupling with other men. Little did I know just how far the rabbit hole would go.