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few weeks. He'd seen her at Mass, she'd taken Communion, but had gone to another priest's confessional.

Now, she was right there; only a screen separated them. He recognized her voice. "Azzurra, I've thought about what you said the last time you were here."

"Fillipo?"

"What if I suggested that we go to Milano, perhaps for a week?"

Fillipo, when? I can be ready in a few hours. My prayers have been answered."

"Not today. Tomorrow night, the train station in Genoa. There's a train at 19:19."

"Fillipo, I am so happy. I promise, I will make you so happy."

"Azzurra, please tell no one. It would not be good for either of us."

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Fillipo." She left the confessional without completing her confession. Like the last time she was in Father Gianelli's confessional, there were tears in her eyes. Only this time, they were tears of joy.

He'd written his resignation letter to the bishop. Before boarding the train for Milano, he posted it.

He wasn't wearing his clerical collar. She was dressed like she was going to a fancy club. Azzurra wanted to make sure Fillipo knew what was in store for him when they got to Milano. They were quiet in their compartment; after all there was others, sitting right next to them.

Milano: their hotel wasn't in the best part of the city, but it was discreet for an unmarried couple and it was inexpensive.

"Fillipo, I want you, I want you this very minute, but I need a shower." She put her arms around his neck. "Fillipo, I want you to join me. We never took a shower together when we were teenagers. I think I would have embarrassed back then for you to see all of me. Now, I want you to see all of me."

There was water; there was soap, but it would be hard to describe what happened as a shower. Their hands were all over each other. Their soapy hands. "Fillipo, I told you I want to make you happy;" Azzurra got on her knees.

"I've missed your cock, but Fillipo, back then I was too young to understand the joy this could bring to a man. I've never forgotten how big, how hard, how beautiful your cock is." Azzurra wasn't lying. Even when she was fucking other men, Fillipo was always on her mind. When she started giving blowjobs, every time, she thought what it would be like to suck Fillipo's cock.

Over the past decade, she'd become skillful. As skillful, perhaps more than the older women Fillipo had been with. Skilled at sucking cock. There'd been lots of men. She took out her anger at Fillipo for abandoning her on those men. With her mouth; with her pussy. When she fucked them, that spectacular ass moved angrily; providing those men with the best fuck they'd ever have.

The difference was that women Like Concetta, Cornelia, Bettina gave Fillipo blowjobs; Azzurra made love to his cock.

They stayed in the shower until the water started to get cold.

"Fillipo, I am having so much fun with your magnificent cock, but it's time you made love to me. Let's get dried off."

Like in the shower, in bed their hands were all over each other.

He wasn't comparing, wasn't thinking of comparing, but he was curious. Was Azzurra's pussy as tasty as Cornelia's. Then he thought, not tasty, yummy.

Her black bush was sparse; her now open pussy pink; a lovely contrast to her olive skin.

Azzurra spread her legs as wide as possible; "Fillipo, I know you know this but I want to make sure you understand, my pussy is all yours."

Like she sucked his cock in the shower, Fillipo didn't eat her pussy, he made love to it.

The gossip Azzurra heard was that his tongue knew how to take women to places they'd never been.

Twenty minutes later, Azzurra could confirm that it wasn't gossip. "Fillipo, please, you have my pussy so ready for your cock. Please. It's been so long."

Yes, it had been ten years.

Yes, they fucked, but it wasn't like with the others they'd been with. Not for Fillipo; not for Azzurra. They weren't thinking of their own satisfaction; ever fiber of their body was intent on pleasing the other. Azzurra's ass moved with love; not anger.

Over the next week, there was more fucking; there was more pussy eating and there were more blowjobs.

The night before they were scheduled to return home, Fillipo told her. "Azzurra, I'm not ready to go back. I'm not ready to return to the priesthood. What would you think of moving here and getting married?"

She felt dizzy; felt like she might faint. "Fillipo, I've prayed for this for years, but now, are you sure? This is a huge decision for you, the biggest you'll ever make in your life."

"And for you, too. Marriage is a huge commitment; a lifetime commitment."

"I know, and that's what worries me; Fillipo, you made a lifetime commitment to the Church, and here we are. I need to think about it. Will you make a lifetime commitment to me, and then maybe in a year or five years decide that a lifetime commitment isn't really for life?"

That night Azzurra wouldn't let him touch her and left early for the Milano train station with barely a good bye.

On the train she thought about it. Except for Fillipo Gianelli she'd never loved a man. She'd sleep with them, fuck them, blow them, but love them, no.

It was not an easy decision, and she didn't make it lightly.

Meanwhile, Fillipo wandered around the seedier parts of Milano looking for a flat to lease. Over the next week he didn't find anything to his liking: too much of a dump or too expensive. He had some work ideas, but the flat search came first.

By the time Azzurra reached home, she'd come to a decision, and she was certain, but there was so much to do: packing, her job, her friends and family. What does she tell them? I fell in love with Father Gianelli because he has the biggest cock and the most marvelous tongue a girl could ask for.

No, of course not.

In the end, she packed her clothes and had them shipped to Milano. Azzurra left a message at her office that she was quitting effective immediately. She told her family that she had a job offer in Rome,

Before she did any of that, Azzurra did something that was unusual for Italian women at the time, she got a wax. It was a new fad, especially among teenage girls. For most Italian women, lying with their legs spread, showing off their bush; the fuller the better for their lover was a sign that they were indeed a woman.

It was a surprise for Fillipo. A wedding gift. She hoped he liked it.

It was a lovely drive to Milano; just two hours, and the weather was perfect.

She didn't tell Fillipo she was coming; she didn't tell him anything. Another surprise.

Fillipo wasn't in his hotel room when she arrived, but the clerk remembered her and let her in.

She took a lot, hot bath. She smiled as she washed between her legs. She was smooth; as smooth as her breasts.

Once out of the shower, she put on a robe just a robe. She didn't have to wait long.

"Azzurra, you came." He took her in his arms.

"Yes, Fillipo, I want to be your wife. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

"Fillipo, I have a wedding present for you; I hope you like it." She stepped back, dropped the robe and lay back on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide.

"Oh Azzurra, I've always thought of you as the most beautiful woman in all of Italy, but now . . .

"Fillipo, you really like the way my pussy looks?"

"Oh yes. It's gorgeous."

"Fillipo, I know you want to do more than look," she giggled.

Fillipo Gianelli got on his knees.

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

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