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We deserved it. Now, in our early thirties after 10 years of marriage, we could afford the trip we had long hoped for. We had both worked at very different jobs: I in my financial services job, my wife Maria teaching ballet to young girls. We had rented a house in Italy, in Tuscany to be specific, for a relaxing two-week vacation. We got a discount because some re-plastering work was being done during the day on the outside of the 17th century manor house. Only one man was going to do the job, without any noisy power tools, so we figured it would not be intrusive.

After arriving on a Saturday and settling in for a couple days, I decided to go to a nearby town to check my e-mail and surf a bit at an internet café. I had told Maria the night before that I wanted to spend a couple hours at the internet café and would be back for lunch with her. She lay silently in bed as I dressed, her full dark hair spread across her pillow. God, she is beautiful, I thought to myself. At 5'11", she was 2 inches taller than me. Her slender body had not changed in the years of our marriage. Her legs were long even for her height, helping her look like an athletic dancer. She had years of ballet training but never achieved professional status, though she had come to love teaching young girls. She had amazing range and flexibility with her legs, which were lithe and muscular but still so feminine. Her breasts were prominent hillocks with a firmness that I attributed to the several hours a day she spent practicing and teaching ballet. Her entire body was, shall we say, tight. ...

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