Chapter 7: Tuscany Hills

I must tell you about Lucy Caldwell, Howard's girlfriend, and then we can put some flesh on the bones, and some clothes on the flesh.

Okay, maybe not so much of the latter. We'll leave her standing coquettishly naked for a moment, a little embarrassed and coy because we're looking at her body, but it's a good one, 5 feet 10 in height, and she's skinny with nice tits, 34 inches of them, and look at her mound, covered in hair, plump and neat.

You like it? Of course you do.

You want it? You bet you do.

Now, take a look at her skin. It's a rich, dark shade of burgundy because her mother is Italian and the likeness is inherited. Despite Lucy never having visited the Tuscany hills or having walked barefoot in the corn fields, Lucy retains her mother's Mediterranean aroma. Touch her neck or her butt or the back of her hands and you feel the magic of Lucca, its olive groves and the Chianti vineyards and the long lines of Cypress that alternate with well tended woodland; you feel its narrow streets so vividly that you can wander along them and admire the old medieval walls and the basilica form churches and the arcaded facades and campaniles. Smell Lucy's bosom, and you smell the fragrance of oregano mixed with thyme, of bougainvillea laden terraces and lavender in bloom. Listen to Lucy's voice and you hear ancient church bells peeling from remote mountain villages, bouncing along sun drenched valleys and blending with gurgling streams to form an Italian Opera to rival Puccini.

Okay. So let's dress her. Don't panic. We'll remove her togs soon enough to return to our panoramic landscape, but for now, we need to discuss her childhood.

In many ways, at age nine, Lucy was like other girls. All right, she had a fiery Italian temperament and a kick like a wild donkey, but her likes and dislikes, insecurities and hang-ups were no different to most girls of her age. At age eleven, she went to school, had plaits in her hair, dirty fingernails, and an impossible younger brother named Daniel. She teased him to distraction because of his miniscule cock, and that's not a wise, because brothers get older and stronger, and they have memories like elephants, and at age fifteen, Daniel was getting his revenge.

By now, his cock was the size of a rhinoceros and he had triceps to match, and he didn't hide his long cock or his muscular physique, not from Lucy, because he was proud of it, and not from the girls at his school because he wanted to cork them.

That didn't change Lucy at all, because she was a consummate tease. She loved taunting Daniel and she did it instinctively, frustrating him without comprehending the strength of the emotions she stirred.

It was done through the turn of her jaw, the flick of her hair, the hint of her perfume. It was done in the arch of her back, the lift of her bosom or the curve of her calf. She would walk around the kitchen and tease him on so many levels and in so many ways that it couldn't last forever, and it didn't. At age sixteen, she got her comeuppance with the enforced removal of her panties behind the bike sheds.

It came about due to an adolescent prank that misfired, the kind of insignificant lark that besets a young girl who mocks boys.

Lucy was in conversation with three of her classmates when Daniel passed by, and Lucy should have been mindful, deferential and cautious, especially given that Daniel wasn't little any more, but tall and strong and perfectly able to haul her to the bike sheds and do with her as he wanted.

But she ridiculed his lack of a girlfriend and suggested to her friends that they ask him out for a date: all three of them. It wasn't subtle. It was done cruelly, naively, and when the friends sidled up to Daniel and told him he was "fit", when they turned on the sex and got him warmed up, they gave away far too many clues. It was a stupid, juvenile act, and didn't take long for Daniel to work out.

No one spoke to him directly, but he knew his sister from old, and he recognised her handicraft, her style, and so he chased after her and he pinned her to his lap. He lifted her skirt and he readied himself to give her a spanking, urged on by all, boys and girls alike.

He hadn't intended it to be much, just a few slaps, a joke. He wanted to humiliate Lucy as she'd humiliated him. It was a game, but when Daniel lifted Lucy's skirt and looked at her ass, he discovered that she was wearing a pair of saucy red ephemera of a sexy, crotchless variety, and Daniel was gob smacked.

Lucy never wore underwear like this because she was a noble hypocrite, a pious snooty-nosed bastard. She attended Church on Sundays and said her prayers, and she didn't do immoral things like hang out with horny boys or wear the wrong kind of panties. She dressed conservatively in long unflattering skirts and high buttoned blouses. Her shoes were flat and functional and she kept herself to herself, and while she exuded plenty of sexual energy and crude talk, it was never by way of an invitation, or so she maintained.

So when Daniel dragged her unceremoniously to the bike sheds and hauled up her skirt and found the wisp of forbidden pleasure, it begged a type of poetic justice to rival iambic pentameter.

Everyone was adamant that Lucy was a hypocrite and that she only had herself to blame. She was only pretending to be religious and they urged Daniel to spank her for the sin of immodesty.

"Take them off! Pull them down!" they chanted in song - and this was Lucy's fellow female class mates as well as Daniel's friends - and Daniel sat motionless, captivated; because Lucy's panties were preposterously unfit for the purpose of covering her backside. They was too small, too loose, too Italian in design, and Daniel stared at her quivering moons and her brown fit buttocks and the folds of her pussy and he could see through a narrow hole where there should have been a gusset, and through this hole he could make out her clit.

His cock grew hard and thick and it pressed against Lucy's stomach, and suddenly she was wriggling and moaning and trying to escape, but his cock was a knife digging into her belly and neither of them could ignore it. There she was - his sister - lying on his lap, pinned by his hand but wriggling about, and suddenly without warning, he could take it no more and he was cumming in his pants. Oh God. Suddenly his dick was spurting and spraying and Lucy was pressed against his trousers and her thigh was sticky with cum.

What was he to do?

The problem for Daniel was that the boys were clamouring and screaming and yelling and telling him to do things, but he couldn't because he'd cum and he was embarrassed and Lucy was his sister, and his feelings were meant to be platonic, and instead of wriggling, she was breathing heavily and otherwise motionless, knowing that he'd cum and awaiting his next move. What should he do? He waited; he thought; and all at once, it came to him.

He would do as the crowd wanted. He would cover his own embarrassment with Lucy's, and so unhurriedly, he hauled down her panties and he removed them, which diverted people's attention from him. And having removed them, there was only one thing to be done now. He placed his hand on her ass and he slapped it, and then again, until he found a rhythm that suited the moment. The first slap made Lucy squeal, which was okay, because it helped clear Daniel's mind, and so he did it again, hitting Lucy repeatedly until the squeals turned into the beat of music and her cheeks flushed red and she was crying and bouncing on his lap for what seemed to Daniel like a very different reason: the saucy strumpet!

He kept hitting. He hit Lucy on both sides. He hit low, where the skin became sensitive and merged with Lucy's pussy. He did it over and over because he couldn't stop doing it and because he didn't want it to end and because he was enjoying it so much.

He hit her where it was uncomfortable and the boys giggled and they took pictures on their cell phones, and Lucy screamed and sobbed and she begged that he stop, but he hit her again and again, and soon, it was her turn to be worried.

She blushed a brilliant pink and she groaned and she squeezed her thighs into his lap, because she was about to cum and it was exploding inside of her; and what could she do? She felt it, and so did he, and so at the moment of impact, as the pretty feelings surged through her being and reached up towards him and wrapped their arms around his neck and jumped to their crescendo, Daniel pushed her from his lap and Lucy fell with her legs splayed open and she was sprawling in the air. The boys looked and leered and laughed at her sex box because it was fluttering in front of them uselessly, and Daniel used the distraction to twist away with his sister's panties clasped to his groin. He moved furiously, rolling to his feet and taking the silk as his camouflage, and before any of the boys had registered it, he'd hurried off and he'd escaped to the rest room.

Lucy saw him leave even as she lay sobbing on the broken concrete, an incomplete eerie excitement radiating from her painful backside and another from her sex box, and a group of boys crowded around her and looked between her legs and pointed to the fact that she was pink and wet.

She was full of shameful and misunderstood emotions. She straightened her skirt and covered her sex, but still they leered and looked at her, and so finally she ran to the girl's rest room and hid there and reordered her mind.

There she was, in one bathroom, sitting awkwardly and painfully on the toilet pan; and Daniel was in the other cleaning himself up. Lucy couldn't hear him. She couldn't see him. But she knew he was close by. They were together and yet apart, while from outside, Lucy heard the chorus of bouncy excitement and nervous chatter from her brother's friends.

They were out there, all of them, waiting for her to come out.

Lucy heard a round of applause and loud voices and jokes, which suggested to her that Daniel had finished cleaning himself up and had come out; but she remained tied to her cubicle, and although she could hear the constant barrage of noise outside, no one came in to see her. No one comforted her. No one wanted to know how she was. The boys kept to their huddles outside and the girls continued their adolescent gossip. The teachers remained in their ivory towers and festered in blissful ignorance; and Lucy was left to rediscover her modesty and her reputation in the best way she could.

Nothing happened quickly. It was the lunch break and time dragged. She wasn't feeling better. Her finger was in her pussy and she was touching her clit, but she did it for comfort and not for relief. It wasn't to finish what Daniel had started - that's what she told herself. It was because she was down in the dumps and miserable. And then the bell rang and she realised that if she'd stayed in the bathroom too long, and if she stayed much longer she would invite the unwelcome attention of the teachers. They would ask too many awkward questions. So a much shaken Lucy came out of the bathroom, and she emerged to find a crowd of boys waiting for her outside.

She pushed them away, struggling and fighting them, ignoring their wandering hands and their crude childish chatter. She held down the hem of her skirt because she was minus her panties and the boys were trying to flip up her skirt at the back, and several girls jealous of the attention were trying to tear open her blouse.

She begged them to leave her, both the girls and the boys, but the girls teased her and the boys jostled and harried and followed her to her next lesson. They poked her where they shouldn't and they asked whether her ass was hurting and could they rub ointment on it, and could they see it, and all they wanted to do was to repeat what Daniel had done - although they daren't - but they threatened to do it unless Lucy rewarded them with a favour.

Like an idiot, Lucy rose to the bait and asked what favour they meant and naturally they told her. They had the grace to seem embarrassed but the demands remained the same. "A striptease," they chortled. "You'll go to the library and you can dance for us, Luc. You were hypocritical with your panties so you can take off your uniform. Not just a bit of it, but all of it, and we'll check that you're wearing the right school uniform."

Lucy told them what to do and where to go but they'd smelt blood and now her reputation was in tatters, and so they took no notice. Again, she told them to get lost, and again they ignored her, and so it was a relief when she got to her next lesson, where her teacher was Mr Andrews, and although he was waiting impatiently, he took no notice as Lucy hurtled in, and she sat down at the back gathering her thoughts.

Maybe he knew... Maybe he'd been told...

The others leered at her and suggested that matters were yet to be resolved, and then Lucy saw that her brother was playing in the sports field outside.

Oh Jesus. He'd gone there deliberately. He'd placed himself where he could see her. But why? What was he up to? What was he planning?

It seemed that he was playing ball with a large number of boys, some of whom had been with him behind the bike sheds, and some of whom hadn't. They were laughing and having a good time, and Daniel seemed to be looking through the window and not playing ball at all.

He'd changed his clothes and he was now wearing a red sport's shirt and white football shorts. Lucy didn't know where they'd come from, because they weren't his and she'd never seen them before, but even as she opened her school bag and took out her French text books, she knew that Daniel's cock had dug into her belly and he'd cum. She remembered his unexpected spasms and the jerky convulsions and her sudden realization that he was going to do it, and he had, and afterwards, there had been the stickiness on her thigh and the smell of his cum, and even as she listened to Mr Andrews explaining that she was to complete two exercises in French comprehension from her textbook, she couldn't let that memory go.

A striptease; that's what the boy had said on her way to this lesson. A striptease in the school library.

She opened her text book and looked down at the pages of closely formed French that was her lesson; the pages that she was supposed to be reading and she tried to understand what was said. Why the school library?

What was special about that?

God. It was contentious to admit, but her pussy was wet and she was imagining herself surrounded by books and performing a sexy striptease for the boys. It wasn't how she expected to be. She should be disgusted and appalled and yet she was anything but.

A striptease.

Her mind kept drifting back to when Little Dan, her cute little brother, had pinned her to his lap. His hand had been hard, uncompromising and firm, making her wriggle, and then she'd felt his cock hammering her stomach through her clothes, and then there had been those long violent spasms. Jesus.

How remarkable! She and Daniel had had sex in public; at school; well, of a kind. What would her mother say? Her father?

A striptease in the school library.

God.

She swallowed nervously, wanting to do it but hesitant, quivering, and already she could feel Daniel's lust strobing her chest and piercing her clothes.

The others were there in the library: looking, and her mouth was terrifyingly dry and her hands were frozen to her side. "Please, Dan. This isn't good. We should talk..."

As he looked lasciviously at her skirt he could see through it to her stockings and her panties, and then through these to her pussy, and her pussy began to tingle, and she felt like he was drawing her relentlessly into his spell.

"No need to talk," he was saying, and he was leading her forward and her breasts were on strings. They were tied to her nipples and he was pulling on those strings and manoeuvring her like she was a weak minded puppet. He owned her and he was making her rise to her feet and then he pulled her to the front of the class by those strings.