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Except it is real, and it's ours.
"Morning, bella," I say, glancing back at Kate, whose honey-colored hair fans out across the pillow like a halo. She stretches with a sleepy smile, her luminous green eyes slowly opening to the new day.
"Buongiorno," she murmurs back, her voice husky with sleep.
Slipping out of bed, I pad barefoot down the terracotta-tiled hallway to the kitchen. It's a rustic affair, with worn wooden counters and a stove that's older than both of us put together. It's here we've discovered the simple joy of cooking with ingredients picked fresh from our garden. Today, I decide on omelets, cracking eggs and whisking them while Kate shuffles in, wrapped in my shirt, looking every bit the starlet even when she's not trying.
"Smells amazing," she says, wrapping her arms around my waist from behind and nuzzling into my neck. Her touch sends a familiar thrill through me, and I tilt my head to steal a kiss.
"Only the best for you," I tease, flipping the omelets onto plates. We take our breakfast out to the terrace, where the view never fails to stun us into silence—a sprawling vista of ancient vineyards and distant mountains, under a sky so blue it looks painted.
After eating, we set out to explore the local market in the nearby village. Walking hand in hand, we weave through the stalls, picking up a hunk of pecorino, sun-ripened tomatoes, and fragrant basil. The vendors all know us by now, greeting us with warm smiles and generous samples.
"Race you back home?" Kate suggests with a mischievous glint in her eye as we head back.
"Prepare to eat my dust, Woodbridge," I retort, knowing full well she'll outrun me. She always does, but the chase is half the fun.
Later, as the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, we find ourselves sprawled on the couch. I'm reading aloud from some obscure Italian novel I found in a secondhand bookstore, butchering the pronunciation. Kate's laughter fills the room, and it's the sweetest sound I know.
"Your Italian needs work, Ben," she teases, poking me gently in the ribs.
"Ah, but you love it," I reply, pulling her closer so she's lying on top of me, her head resting against my chest.
"Maybe," she concedes, a playful note in her voice.
In moments like this, the world outside our villa fades away, and all that exists is the two of us, tangled up in each other, lost in our little slice of paradise.
"You’ve got me flying higher than I ever have, Mrs. Caldwell," I admit, pulling her down for a quick, teasing kiss. "Speaking of flying, I've got that charter flight over Tuscany tomorrow. Perfect weather for a spin above the vineyards."
"Ugh, sounds dreamy. Take me with you?" Kate pouts playfully, her ruby lips forming the perfect moue. "But alas, duty calls. Rehearsals start at dawn. Juliet isn't going to play herself, you know."
"True," I say, running a hand through her honey-colored locks. "And you're going to dazzle them, as always. Your talent, your passion—it's electric, Kate."
"Flatterer." She grins, then props herself up on an elbow. "But we do make quite the pair, don't we? You, soaring through the skies, and me, under the spotlight."
"Unstoppable," I agree, my voice low and full of pride. There's something about watching Kate on stage, so raw and vulnerable, yet powerful—it stokes a fire in me, just like when I'm banking into a turn with nothing but blue around me.
"Enough talk about work." Kate's hand slides down my chest, her touch igniting sparks. "Show me how unstoppable you are, Captain."
Her challenge hangs in the air, thick with promise. In one swift move, I flip us over, pinning her beneath me. Our laughter fades as heat flares between our bodies, our gazes locked.
"Prepare for takeoff," I whisper against her lips, before capturing them with mine.
The world outside falls away as we explore each other, every touch a discovery, every gasp a treasure.
I fall to my knees and bury my face between my wife’s thighs, lapping at her perfect little pussy.
There’s nothing I love more than eating my Kate’s pussy.
“So sweet, baby,” I praise her as her juices cover my face.
For Kate’s part, she’s lost in the sensation, simultaneously pulling me closer and pushing me away at the same time.
I hold her still, batting at her clit with my tongue as I suck on her at the same time with that perfect pulse that I know will make her come on my face every time.
Kate's fingers dig into my shoulders, urging me on, and I oblige, losing myself in her pleasure.
"Ben," she breathes out, her voice hitching as I delve deeper, and then she explodes.
