“Was he in Italy in the second world war?” he gingerly probed.“Yes,” I replied, completely mystified at this point.“Well, I believe you and ..., might be brothers,” he tentatively asserted.The soap-operatic impact of his words practically had me keeling over.“What?” I cried, having got extended to the outer limits of incredulity.Patrizio immediately apologized as he observed my flushed countenance. Not only was I flushed, but it felt like the blood in my body had turned to ice.Calmly, Patrizio. Now she lay on their bed, the passion drained from her body.He drank in her figure as he undressed. She was a small woman, standing only as tall as his chin even in heels. She had a waist he often joked could be encircled by a finger and thumb, but her tight and toned ass could hardly be called anemic, nor her grapefuit-sized breasts. She was a woman who despite working out on a treadmill and bike, had never been able to tone her tummy. He liked it that way though.His erection was almost. More

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