She was amazed by all the beauty around her: the monuments, and the breathtaking sceneries everywhere she went. The mountains, the coasts, the lowland, the countryside, and the generosity of the people she got to meet were not even close to what she had imagined. Each and every time she visited a place, she thought that could be a place to live. Then she went somewhere else and found that that was a better place to live, until the next one.

During her trip, Maria found out that Italians had a good habit of walking everywhere, no matter how the weather was. Maria followed their example and walked everywhere. It was the best way to see places and to discover little alleys, interesting shops, and to meet people. Street markets were another thing Maria loved a lot about Italy, the people browsing between booths, the colorful disposition of produce or clothes, booth owners talking from one booth to the other. She thought many times to grab a chair and sit there, watching the show and eating gelato.

It was the end of August when Maria arrived in Firenze. After a day walking around the city, she stopped to visit the Basilica di San Lorenzo. It was one of the many churches in Firenze. Actually, all around Italy there were millions of churches, all decorated with paintings and statues.

Before entering the Basilica, Maria put a sweater over her shoulders. She learned to always have a sweater in her backpack for two reasons, first because churches are often cool, and then because it’s not polite to enter a church with your shoulders and legs uncovered, and being summer, she had a tank top which left her shoulders bare. She entered, made the sign of the cross, and looked around, then sat on a bench.

All around and above her there were sacred paintings, the smell of the incense in the air, somewhere there was an organ playing. A group of nuns was praying and singing, knelt before the altar. Maria took the rosary beads from her backpack’s pocket to pray. She got the rosary from a nun in Matera.

Pulling back her head to look at the ceiling, she saw sacred frescos, so colorful, so neat. For a moment, she thought the angels painted were waving and talking to her. Then she saw the ceiling spinning. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She was tired and hot.

When she opened her eyes, the angels were gone. The nuns were gone. Around her she saw white walls, the ceiling was white with a lamp in the center. The sound of the organ was replaced by an annoying beep, and the smell of the incense, replaced by a nauseating smell of disinfectant.

A female voice on her side said excitedly, “Si sta svegliando.” (She’s waking up!)

Confused, she asked, “Where am I?” in a whisper.

The young woman on her side, with kind blue eyes and blond hair in a ponytail, said, “Buongiorno, my name is Paola, I am the nurse. You are at hospital Santa Maria Nuova. You fainted in the church,” and gently stroked Maria’s head. “How do you feel?” the nurse continued in broken English.

“My head hurts and I have nausea,” Maria explained, then asked, “What day is it?”

Reassuring Maria, Paola, the nurse, said it was the same day, but it was already night, and that the doctor would be there shortly to talk to her. Nurse Paola gave Maria some sprite, adjusted the pillows to help her to sit up, and waited beside her, still stroking her head.

Dr. Andrea Pancaldi entered Maria’s room with her medical folder in his hands.

“Good evening, I’m Doctor Pancaldi, and you’re Miss… Maria Carter, correct?” he said, reading her name on the folder. “So, tell me how you are feeling,” he asked, smiling.

He was a handsome doctor, tall, light brown hair, blue eyes, young, and with a very genuine smile. His voice was deep but gentle.

Maria asked him, “Doctor, I’m sorry, I really want to know what happened, do I have a tumor? Am I dying?” She had never been in a hospital before.

He chuckled, placed a hand on her forearm, and said, “You’re not dying anytime soon. I’m about to explain to you what happened, but first I need to ask you a few questions,” he said, grabbing a chair and sitting beside Maria’s bed while the nurse took her vitals.

“Maria,” the doctor began, “what are you doing in Italy?”

“I graduated from college in Art History and wanted to visit Italy where the real Art is,” she explained.

“You’re right, everywhere here you can see Art,” he said, chuckling, “Are you travelling alone? Is there anybody you want us to call?”

“I’m travelling alone, and I have nobody to call,” she answered, staring at her hands on the white sheets. Then, thinking about it, she corrected herself, “Well, I’m lodging at the convent of Santa Croce, and I need to call Sorella Elena. She usually locks the door at 10 PM.”

Nurse Paola immediately said, “I can take care of it. It’s very close, do you need something for the night?”

“Do I have to spend the night here?”

“Yes, I need to keep you in for observation tonight,” the doctor answered, then added, “Tomorrow morning we’ll do some more blood work and if everything is fine, you can go home.”

Maria bent her head, resigned, and whispered something.

“Did you say something?” Paola asked, gently.

With her eyes filled with tears, Maria looked at her and repeated, “I’ve never been in a hospital.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here the whole night,” Paola said with a reassuring smile.

“Maria, here’s what happened,” Andrea said, “You were in the Basilica di San Lorenzo when you passed out, the nuns heard you falling on the floor and immediately called an ambulance. This was the closest hospital, thank god because we had several situations like yours and we know how to handle that. Have you ever heard about the Stendhal Syndrome?”

She thought for a moment then frowned, and said, “You mean the French writer who traveled to Italy and got sick here in Florence?”

“Yes, him. You had the same symptoms,” Andrea looked at her and continued, “apparently, you’re a very sensitive soul.”

While Maria was eating her supper, Paola asked, “Tell me something about you.”

Maria felt at ease with Paola, and began talking. “I love reading, listening to the music, visiting museums, everything that is art. My mom was a soprano and named me after Maria Callas.”

“Really?” Paola said, genuinely amazed.

Paola was a good listener and for the first time in her life, Maria opened up a little, talking about her childhood, her misery, her inability at being happy, her loneliness.

A few times Paola was on the edge of tears, but she didn’t want to make Maria sad and swallowed that big knot in her throat.

The following morning Maria was feeling better, she wasn’t pale anymore and she was able to eat a little more.

Dr. Andrea entered Maria’s room for his regular tour to check on the patients.

“Good morning, Maria,” he greeted her, “how are you feeling today?”

“Much better, doctor,” she answered, “Can I go home? I still have a lot of places to see,” anxious to continue her tours.

“Sure, but first I have some recommendations I need you to follow,” he said, placing a folder on Maria’s bed. Paola was there too. He went on explaining that she still needed some rest, and she couldn’t overdo it. Then she needed to follow some breathing exercises every morning and every night before going to sleep, and before visiting places like museums or churches.

“I prescribed you a medicine, it helps you to relax. You take it only if you need it, okay?” Andrea continued, “let me go get it for you while you get ready,” and he left the room.

When Andrea was back with the medicine, Maria was with her back to the door, brushing her long, red, curly hair. Oh, he wanted so much to touch her hair, stroke her back, and her skin. That thought was highly unprofessional, and he knew that, and that was the first time he ever had such a naughty thought about a patient. After today he won’t see her again and he was grateful for that. He didn’t want to get into trouble.

“Here is the medicine,” he said to change the track of his thoughts, “Remember, just one and only if you need it. Okay? And try to rest today, please.”

“I called a taxi,” Paola explained, “You can’t go home alone. You need someone to take you and I can’t. But I can pick you up tomorrow morning to take you around. At about eleven, okay?”

Maria had a knot in her throat, her eyes filled with tears, “Why are you doing this? Don’t you have something better to do than driving me around?”

Paola stroked her hair, kissed her forehead, and said, “I care for you, I want to show you places you don’t see if you’re not a native. Places that are not in the tour guides.”

As promised, the following morning at eleven, Paola knocked at the convent’s door where Maria was lodging and took Maria for a picnic day in Fiesole, a hill North of Florence from where, in a clear day, you can see all Florence and more.

When they arrived, Paola spread a blanket on the lea and put down the bags with their food and drinks while Maria was enchanted looking at the view.

“If you’re feeling sick, take your medicine,” Paola said, giggling, “Nice view, eh?”

“Nice?” Maria asked, “Nice it’s not enough. Now the problem is that I don’t wanna go home anymore.” Maria had a mix of feelings, the joy of seeing so many beautiful places, knowing not many people would ever have her chance, and the sadness of having to go back to Kalamazoo, where she had no one waiting for her.

Paola broke her thoughts asking, “When do you have to go back?”

Pensive, Maria, sitting down on the blanket, answered, “My visa is good for six more months, but my budget is good for probably two more weeks if I can stretch it a little.”

Paola bit a mouthful of her panino, and said, “You can stay with me and save money.”

Maria turned to Paola, not sure she understood well, and asked, “What do you mean?”

“I have an extra bedroom. You can stay with me and save the lodging money,” Paola explained, “It’s probably not much but maybe it helps.”

Maria thought for a while, doing some math with her money. Then she heard Paola talking on the phone. She was speaking Italian, but she understood Paola was talking to a friend about a temporary job at a museum and asked Maria, “Do you know the Uffizi well?” (Galleria degli Uffizi is a museum in Florence, famous all around the world).

“Yes, of course,” Maria answered, “Why?”

“E’ americana ed è qui in vacanza,” Paola said to the person on the phone. (She’s American and is here on vacation).

When Paola hung up, she was excited, and said in one breath, “I found you a job and this can help you stay longer. It’s for the Uffizi, and they always need someone for Americans and English groups. By the end of August, most of the students are getting ready to go back to school and can’t help anymore. You can do it. You have an appointment with Giorgio for tomorrow morning. I will take you there. Tonight, we are going to the convent and take your things and you come to my place.”

That night she moved to Paola’s and the following morning, after breakfast, together they went to meet with Giorgio. Maria was concerned about working with a tourist visa, but Giorgio assured her that it was ok as it was just a seasonal job.

After two weeks, Maria discovered that she utterly loved that job, telling people the details of the paintings, the history of that moment, the story of the artist, why some paintings were protected with a Plexiglas screen. For her, this was a way to share her passion. She also got a few very good tips. One of the tourists once said, “We can feel your enthusiasm through your voice. You’re very good at this job,” and gave her €50 (almost $50).

Another thing she discovered was Italian fashion. The attention Italians put in clothing was amazing. She imagined people spending at least one hour every day to decide what to wear, a luxury she never had. She never had many clothes, and she never had new clothes. Her clothes came from Goodwill or from her foster sisters. For the first time, she spent half of her first paycheck in new clothes and threw in the garbage her very-used ones.

One day that she didn’t have to work, Maria scheduled an appointment to the U.S. embassy and started the paperwork to move to Italy. She didn’t tell Paola until it was official. Three weeks after, she received an email confirming she was a regular resident of the Repubblica Italiana.

That night she invited Paola out for dinner. Maria was falling in love with pizza.

“Paola, you have no idea how good this pizza is,” Maria said, eating a mouthful of the crust topped with tomato sauce and stringy mozzarella, “Not even close to the American ones. They label them Authentic Italian Pizza, but they have no idea how far that is from the authentic one.”

Paola laughed, and said, “One day I’ll go to the US, and you take me to eat American pizza, so I can understand.”

Satiated Maria said, “About that,” rising her mug full of beer, “tonight we are celebrating.”

“What?” Paola asked, frowning.

“I am now a regular Italian resident. So now I can find a regular job and then find an apartment, possibly close to yours,” Maria announced.

With Giorgio’s help, Maria found a job as an interpreter for a multinational company. After a couple of months working for that company, she also found an apartment two blocks from Paola and close to work.

One of the many things she loved about Firenze, was the Mercato di San Lorenzo, a street market running every Saturday where artisans sell their products. From pottery to leather jackets, from wooden toys to furniture, Maria loved that place. Sometimes Paola joined her for a walk after a nice breakfast at a local bar.

One morning, browsing around the stalls looking for a leather jacket, Andrea was looking at a woman a few stalls ahead of him. She had long, red, curly hair and how her jeans were wrapping her butt was mouthwatering. It should be illegal, he thought. The woman turned to look at something and…

“Maria?” he said, touching her shoulder, “Maria!”

She turned toward the voice to see Andrea.

“Dottor Pancaldi!” Maria said, smiling, “How are you doing?”

She was extremely excited to see him. She couldn’t explain her excitement, not even to herself. It’s not like she’d never noticed good-looking guys before, but she’s never dared to approach them. She only dreamt about guys and dreaming always gave her a weird sensation down between her legs and to her breasts. One day, she was eavesdropping on her foster-sisters and heard them talking about masturbation, but Maria had no idea what that was. It was one day at the public library that she checked in the dictionary, “Stimulation of the genitals with the hand for sexual pleasure”. She blushed, immediately closed the dictionary, and put it back. She could never do something like that.

Why was she recalling that now, with Andrea in front of her?

“Oh please, call me Andrea,” he said, “You’re not my patient anymore. What are you doing here? I thought you went back to the US.”

“Paola didn’t tell you?” Maria asked, glad to change the track of her thoughts, “I submitted the paperwork for citizenship, I have a job and an apartment. For a while, I lived with Paola, but I couldn’t bother her anymore. I found an apartment close to hers though.”

“I had to work in another hospital lately and I don’t see Paola anymore,” he explained, mesmerized by her green eyes and her full lips. Something was different on her face though, she was radiant, happy.

“Hey, it’s almost lunchtime,” Andrea said, “Would you like to eat with me? I know a place close by,” hoping she’d say yes.

“What’s with you Italians and food?” she said, laughing.

“Food is a religion for us,” Andrea said, closing his eyes and placing his hand on his heart, “Good food is the door for good relationships. It’s around a table that we make the most important decisions. Let’s go.”

“Since I’ve arrived in Italy, I’ve gained weight,” Maria said, walking beside Andrea.

Andrea looked at her, head to toe, and said, “Well, for what I can see, you’re fine. More than fine, actually. You look perfetta.”

She was way more talkative and happier, and Andrea liked her.

“So, tell me,” Andrea said, “did you have any other episode of Stendhal Syndrome?”

“Nope,” Maria answered, “The breathing exercises are helping a lot.”

In front of a delicious piadina stuffed with grilled zucchini and brie cheese, Maria told Andrea about her work, the museum, and her decision to stay. Andrea talked about some of his cases without compromising the privacy of the patients.

“Don’t you miss your family? Your friends?” Andrea asked curiously.

Maria bent her head, looking at the small piece of piadina left, and said, almost whispering, “I have nobody. No family and no friends,” and she continued telling her story, trying to not sound too sad.

“I’m so sorry,” Andrea said, placing a hand on top of hers.

In that moment, she felt a thrill that stopped in her stomach giving her the sensation of a swarm of butterflies inside her. She had never felt that before. What was that?

“Don’t be sorry, please,” she said, smiling, trying to distract herself, “My story is what makes me who I am, it’s what brought me here,” she explained.

“And you wouldn’t have tasted the authentic Italian food!” Andrea said, chuckling,

“That wouldn’t be bad,” she replied, placing a hand on her stomach.

Andrea looked at that hand and wished it was his hand on her stomach. She had a button-down shirt with the first two buttons open, showing a deep cleavage he didn’t notice while she was at the hospital. Now, sitting in front of her, he was noticing many things about her he didn’t see before.

While she was drinking a beer, he looked at her throat in full display and imagined kissing her there leaving a path of wet kisses down to her cleavage. Then he imagined her luscious body, naked under his, and he felt his cock getting hard in his pants.

“Andrea? Are you here?” Maria asked, noticing he was thinking of something else.

“Uhm? What? Oh sorry, I got distracted,” he explained.

“Am I boring you?” Maria asked.

“Oh no! Absolutely not,” he hastened to say, “I like hearing your happy voice. It’s just that… I can’t explain.” He dug into the last bite of his piadina, then asked, “So, where is your apartment?”

Maria explained where the apartment was and how she found it.

While he went to pay for their lunch, she couldn’t avoid looking at him walking. With the coat, at the hospital, she didn’t notice his long legs and his delicious butt.

“Don’t you have something called housewarming or something like that in the US?” Andrea asked.

“Yes, correct,” Maria answered, then explained, “I moved in two weeks ago but it’s still empty. I ordered a few things online, but I’m still looking around to complete it, and I’m waiting for the next paycheck. Here you get paid once a month, not twice, so now I have to wait until next month to complete the kitchen. It’s a bummer.”

They chuckled together. Then they left the bar and got back browsing the street market. He couldn’t let her go, he didn’t want their time together to end. He needed to find something they could do together.

“I have to be home at three because I’ll have my bedroom delivered,” Maria said, checking her watch.

“Do you need help?” Andrea asked.

“You probably have better plans for the day,” Maria said, her swarm of butterflies coming back alive in her stomach. Having him around, in her new apartment would be interesting.

“I don’t generally offer my help if I don’t really mean it. Let’s go,” Andrea said.

They arrived at Maria’s apartment, and she offered him something to drink, “I only have two folding chairs. As I said, I have to wait until next month for the kitchen.”

“While we are waiting, show me what you’d choose for the kitchen,” Andrea asked, genuinely curious to know what she’d like.

“Okay,” she said.

She liked things simple but colorful. If he had to guess the furniture that Maria would have chosen, Andrea would have chosen exactly right, and he liked every single piece.

The delivery guys arrived on time. They quickly assembled everything and left in less than two hours.

As he guessed the bedroom was simple, feminine but not cheesy. A full bed, a dresser, and a big wardrobe. In less than thirty minutes, together, they had her stuff well-ordered in the dressers and closet, and her bed done.

Andrea wanted to hug her, to let her know she was ok, that everything was going to be ok. His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell.

“It should be Paola,” Maria said, going to open the door.

“Oh, hi Andrea,” Paola said, surprised to see him there, “I didn’t know you were here.”

“We met at San Lorenzo and got together,” Maria explained, “Then he helped me to set up the bedroom.”

Paola sent a glance to Andrea that did more than a sword. Paola was an amazing nurse, caring for her patients and her coworkers, but would kill if someone hurt a person she cared about. Andrea saw that Paola and Maria were becoming good friends.

“Girls, I think I’ll go home,” Andrea said, standing up.

“No way!” both Paola and Maria said, then Maria added, “I can prepare something to eat. Please, stay.”

“Okay,” he said, “but I cook dinner while you girls talk.”

They had a great night all together, talking, laughing, confiding in some personal feelings.

Paola and Andrea left together and, as he expected, once they were outside, walking to their cars, Paola wanted to know his intentions.

“Listen,” Paola began, “I don’t know your personal life, I know you as a doctor. This was the first time we were together outside the hospital, but I care for Maria. She had a tough life, really tough…”

“I know,” Andrea interrupted her, “she told me her story today during our lunch. I agree, she had a tough life, but she’s a grown-up woman, and a strong one. She can take care of herself.”

“True, but I don’t want to see her heartbroken,” Paola said, “so please if you have serious intentions, I’m okay. But if you just want to have fun… please, go somewhere else.”

“I understand why you’re telling me this,” Andrea explained, “My intentions are serious. I’ve never been a guy to play around. I’m falling for Maria, seriously falling. I like her, a lot”

Paola thought for a moment, looking at his eyes, then said, “OK then, but I won’t let my guard down.”

It was Wednesday when, during a break, he checked his phone and found a text from Paola.

“Hey you! Where are you?”

He replied saying, “At work. Why?”

She then called him, “Is this the way you care for people?”

“Good afternoon to you too. What do you mean?” he asked, chuckling.

“You disappeared. I thought you cared for Maria, but you never called her,” Paola said in a serious voice.

“Well,” he hesitated, then explained, “I didn’t want to bother her calling every day. I guess I was wrong.”

“Yes,” she said, “you were wrong. She thinks you don’t like her.”

“What? No!” he said, worried and mad to himself.

After a few minutes, they hung up and he immediately texted Maria.

“Hi! Sorry for my silence, I was busy. Would you like dinner together tonight?”

Andrea finished his lunch, checked his phone but there wasn’t any answer yet. After a long afternoon in the operating room, he checked his phone and found a text from Maria.

“I’d love it! My place?”

“No. I’ll pick you up at 7 PM. Dress casual,” he replied, then put back his phone and went to check on his patients before leaving at six. He stopped at his usual grocery store and at seven was ringing at Maria’s doorbell.

She got out with a blue silk shirt, and a pair of jeans wrapping her amazing thighs in a sensuous way.

She was sexy without knowing it, or that was what made her even more intriguing. He was sure nobody ever said that to her.

“Ciao Andrea!” she said, quickly hugging him.

That hug was unexpected but too quick for his tastes.

“So, where are we going?” Maria asked cheerfully.

“I had a very tough day, so if you don’t mind, I was thinking of preparing something and having dinner in the comfort of my home,” he replied to her.

“If you’re too tired we can make another time,” she immediately said. She sounded a little nervous.

“Never too tired for a dinner with you,” Andrea said, staring at her eyes.

Maria giggled nervously. Obviously she didn’t know how to reply.

They arrived at Andrea’s house and Maria immediately noticed the beautiful place. It was already dark, but she could see it was standing on a hill. She’d love to see it during the day.

The house was a single house, with a living room, three bedrooms - one was his, one was a guest room, and the other one was a spare room used as a catchall - two bathrooms and a well-equipped kitchen.

“Nice place!” Maria said, looking around, “It’s cozy. I really like it. Do you have a backyard?”

“Yes. During spring and summer I usually eat outside,” Andrea said, washing his hands, and prepping for dinner.

Maria, too, washed her hands and asked, “How can I help?”

Together they prepared dinner, chatted, and told each other about their day at work.

After dinner they consumed a Limoncello on the couch in front of the fireplace, talking about the approaching festivities. She talked about spending Thanksgiving at her foster family’s house. It was a day spent pretending to be a regular family. But once she left for college, she always spent the Thanksgiving weekend alone at the dorm.

“We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving here,” Andrea explained, “but I remember when I was in Boston. Jim, my roommate, invited me to his family’s house. It was a unique celebration.”

At about eleven, disguising a yawn, Maria said she should call a taxi to go home, but Andrea couldn’t allow that, “I invited you here, and I will take you home.”

One Saturday Andrea invited Maria, Paola, and Luca, Paola’s boyfriend, for lunch. The plan was that they each had to think of a recipe and they had to prepare it together at Andrea’s place. They had so much fun preparing and then eating all the food.

Maria, for the first time in her life, felt that that was her home, filled with the people she loved and who loved her back. In her heart, she had a special feeling for Andrea. She didn’t know if it was love or just a special attraction because she’d never had these feelings before. She was scared because she didn’t have much to give, she didn’t know how love worked. She knew that for love, her mother gave up her career and, eventually, her life.

“Paola?” Maria called, while they were cleaning the kitchen, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure!” Paola said, “We can leave the men finishing here.”

They went to the bathroom.

“Ehm,” Maria cleared her throat, not knowing how to begin, “Paola, I’ve never had friends, and much less a boyfriend.”

“Yes, I think I got that,” Paola said, “I’m a nurse, there’s nothing you can tell me that I haven’t studied or seen. Don’t be afraid,” trying to put Maria at ease.

“Sometimes,” taking her courage, Maria explained, “when I think about Andrea, I feel like a tingling down there.”

Paola hugged her friend and said, “You’re alive, my friend. That’s what you’re supposed to feel when you’re not dead nor a robot. You’re a woman and you feel physical attraction to Andrea. It’s perfectly normal.”

“Is this love?” Maria asked.

“Uhm, not yet, but it’s the road to that. It starts as a physical attraction, and then can become love. Or vice versa. It depends on you two.”

“But -,” Maria had other more private questions, “What if… ehm… I’ve never… ehm… done that.”

“You’re a virgin? Well, he’s handsome, he’s a doctor, and he’s also very smart,” Paola said, “My suggestion is to tell him and he’ll know what to do. Be honest with him, that's the most important key to a relationship.”

Maria’s eyes filled with tears, and she said, “Thank you. I never hoped to find a friend like you. You’re so special,” and they hugged.

They were on their way back to the kitchen when Paola turned to Maria, and whispered, “And by the way, men love virgins!”

Maria blushed.

After a few minutes, Paola said, “Tomorrow I have a long shift. We better go home,” then, turning to Maria, said, “Need a ride?”

“Ehm,” Andrea cleared his throat, and said to Maria, “I can give you a ride home. Do you mind staying a little longer?”

“Well, I’m not working tomorrow,” Maria said, blushing.

Paola saw Maria’s nervousness, so she hugged her friend and whispered, “Just be honest. He’ll understand. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Would you like something to drink?” Andrea offered Maria when they were left alone.

“Do you have some tea?” Maria asked. She needed something to keep her busy.

“Sure. I show you what I have,” Andrea said, heading to the kitchen.

Andrea was bringing two mugs from the cupboard when he heard Maria deep breathing.

“What happens? Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m doing the breathing exercises you taught me,” Maria said, continuing her breathing.

“Because you’re nervous and you think you may pass out?” he said smiling, but not chuckling. He could feel she was nervous, and he wanted to make her feel at ease with him. He had to calmly help her.

“Not passing out, yet, but yes I’m nervous,” Maria confessed.

“Okay, sit down and let’s talk about this. I’m pretty sure that talking could help you,” he said, offering her a chair.

Andrea grabbed the mugs with the tea and sat down in front of Maria.

Maria sipped her tea, then began talking, not looking at him, but at her mug, “Andrea, you know about my life. What you probably haven’t realized is that…,” she paused for a moment, trying to find the right words to explain her feelings, “everything is new to me. The friendship with Paola, and you. I’ve never had friends, I never wanted friends. All the people I loved abandoned me. So, it was easier to not get too attached. Now…,” she paused again, sipping her tea, “I have people who care about me, and I have nothing to give back.”

“You’re giving your heart to us. I’m sure I can speak for Paola too, but we don’t need anything back. At the moment you need us. I’m sure that if we ever need you, you’ll be there for us,” Andrea explained to her, “Friendship is not made of material things, it’s made of support. Sometimes we just need a person listening to us or we just need a hug.”

Still looking at her now empty mug, Maria continued talking, “There are a few things you need to understand about me. I want to be honest with you, always, I want you to always trust me.”

Andrea wanted to say something, but he preferred to not interrupt her and simply took her hand in his.

“I am new at this friendship thing, and I’ve never… I’m a virgin. I’ve never kissed or hugged a man. Now, I hope you understand why I’m so nervous. I don’t know what love is, but I know that around you I feel something different, something I’ve never felt before.”

Andrea saw tears flowing down Maria’s cheek. He was looking for the right words to say, “Maria,” he said in a whisper, getting up and inviting her to get up too. Looking into her eyes, wiping her tears with his thumb, he continued, “I know how you’re feeling. I’m not new to relationships, but what I’m feeling for you is totally new. We can walk through these new feelings together, one step at a time, and see where this will lead us. What do you think?”

Her eyes filled with more tears, then Maria answered, “Okay, one step at a time, together. I like that,” and she smiled.

Andrea wrapped her in a big, warm, and protective hug. The feeling of her breasts pressed against his chest made his cock twitch, but he hoped it wouldn’t frighten her.

Living a track of kisses from her temple, down to her cheek, Andrea reached her full lips. He gently kissed her lips. Andrea could feel the pounding of her heart against his chest.

She closed her eyes and slightly parted her lips.

With one hand Andrea caught the back of Maria’s neck, bent his head for a better fit, and covered her mouth with his.

“Mmm,” she poured, then crossed her arms between his neck. She didn’t know what she should do, but she followed her instinct and the flow of her emotions.

Heat rose from Maria’s stomach to her chest. She felt her body tingling as his tongue was making love to hers.

She felt the warmth of his body and she felt protected, probably for the first time in her life.

He broke the kiss but didn’t break the hug.

Their breathing and the pounding of their hearts were the only sounds in the room.

After a few moments he broke the silence, his forehead against hers, he said, “I don’t want to scare you, but I think I’m falling for you.”

Maria giggled and said, “Talking about one step at a time.”

They both chuckled.

Then she said, “I better go home.”

He drove her home and they agreed to a date the following Saturday. They kissed the good night.

She was confused, in her head and heart there was a thunderstorm of emotions.

Once Maria was home, she texted Paola, “I need your help, again”

“Want to talk now?” Paola replied.

“No. Too confused. Tomorrow. Whenever you can,” Maria promptly replied.

The two girls got together for a quick lunch, and Maria told her friend everything about the previous night.

“Welcome to the world,” Paola exclaimed, and hugged her friend.

“Paola,” Maria said, “can you help me to find the right dress for Saturday? That’s another thing I’m new at,” and together they chuckled.

“No problem. I finish work at four, I’ll be at your home right after,” Paola confirmed. Then added, “Maria? Can I suggest a little thing? Actually two”

“Sure,” Maria said, frowning, not knowing what her friend was about to suggest.

“First, you need a haircut,” Paola said, and made Maria laugh.

“You’re right.”

“Second, can I schedule you an appointment with my gynecologist?” Paola asked.

Blushing, Maria replied, “Oh. Right. Jeez. Okay, yes please.”

Paola knew what Maria had in her closet, so that Saturday she arrived at Maria’s place, holding a few nice dresses. Maria had bigger breasts, but other than that, they were similar in size.

When Andrea arrived at eight to pick Maria up, he looked at her head to toe. She was wearing a blue shirt that made her green eyes and red hair stand out. The shirt was a little tight to the breasts, but it was perfect this way. Then she had a gray skirt and blue stiletto shoes.

She was beautiful and the idea of skipping dinner came to his mind, with the approval of his cock, but that wasn’t an option, not yet.

“You are beautiful,” he said, kissing her, “You changed your hair.”

Giggling, Paola said, “Good job Andrea! Every man must say that at least once a week to a woman. Well, I better go. Have a goodnight, lovebirds.”

Dinner was perfect, in a perfect setting, talking about everything they liked, about their hobbies, what they liked about school, books, and almost everything that passed to their mind.

Like a good knight, Andrea took Maria home, kissed her goodnight in front of the door, and left.

“One step at a time,” she whispered, closing the door.

It went like this for a few more dates. Sometimes they went to eat pizza and sometimes to a nice restaurant, and sometimes they had dinner at Maria’s place where she was able to add a nice couch and a TV set to her living room. Some other times, they had dinner all together with Paola and Luca. But, at the end, he was always a knight, and left her after kissing goodnight.

Maria spent Christmas at Andrea’s parents’ place, and that was when she discovered Andrea was rich.

“In my experience, rich people are always conceited, showing off their wealth. You never did anything like that,” Maria said on their way back to her place, “I mean, I guessed you had some money with your job, your house is beautiful, but today I realized you’re really wealthy.”

“I hope you won’t change your mind now that you know,” Andrea said, chuckling, but a little worried inside.

“It’s not that,” Maria replied. She turned to look at him, “I mean, your parents were amazing with me and the scarf they gave me is… splendida! But, Andrea, I have nothing, really nothing to offer you. Do you understand that? And, most of all, do your parents know that?”

“I thought I made it clear when I told you I don’t want anything back, only your heart,” he said, holding her hand in his.

A few days after, Andrea called Maria inviting her for a weekend over at his parents’ place, “It’s supposed to be nice tomorrow, and I’d love to teach you to ride.”

Andrea’s parents had an estate with a stable and a few horses. He taught Maria how to get on a horse, and to ride. It was fun and she loved it. But at the end of the afternoon, she felt stinky and tired.

“Come on,” Andrea told her, “I show you your room so you can take a shower and rest.”

Walking toward the house, holding hands, Maria asked, “Where are your parents? I haven’t seen them.”

“They’re on a cruise for two weeks,” he answered, “If you don’t want to be alone with me tonight, I understand, and…”

Maria interrupted him, “I haven’t said that have I? I just asked where they were. Don’t be more nervous than me, please,” she giggled.

He stopped walking, making her turn to him, and said, “Why? I thought you were at ease with me. I thought dating me, and knowing me better, you wouldn’t be nervous anymore.”

“It’s not you who makes me nervous, but the situation,” she looked down, and continued, “I know what could happen today.”

With his finger, he lifted her chin, and said, “Honey, look at me. Nothing will happen if you don’t want to. I will never force you to do something you don’t want. You’re too important to me, don’t you get it? I can wait. It’s killing me because you’re beautiful and I’m dying to make love with you. But I can wait as long as you need.”

Maria got closer to him, their forehead touching, and she said, “Andrea, io ti amo (I love you). And my body loves you as well. I want that to happen. I just don’t know how to do that, how to please you, how to… well, you know what I mean.”

He hugged her and kissed her. Those kisses were becoming every day more important to both of them.

Maria craved those kisses all the time, and when they weren’t together, she recalled them in every single detail.

Sometimes, Andrea touched her breasts, always on the top of her clothes, but those were incredible moments for Maria, and every time, at home, she had to change her panties because they were wet, and she felt dirty.

Today something different happened. They were kissing and Andrea’s hands slid down her back and went stroking her butt, squeezing it a little. It wasn’t the first time, but this time it was more sensual, more exciting, her body was completely pressed against his and she felt a bulge pressing against her stomach. She knew what that meant, and as an answer, she rubbed her stomach against him, moaning.

Andrea’s hands were doing something she didn’t expect. One hand was rubbing between her butt’s cheeks, while the other hand moved in the front, between their bodies, rubbing between her legs, where she knew she was wet. For a moment she thought time stopped, and probably her heart skipped a beat or two.

“Andrea,” she whispered, with a shaky voice, “I need a shower first.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I got carried away.”

She took a shower and found a robe hung behind the door. She was wiping her hair with a towel when Andrea knocked at the door.

“Yes?” she said.

He entered and found her slightly bent at the waist, drying her hair. What she evidently didn’t know, was that her robe was showing a side of her breast. That breast he couldn’t wait to touch, and to suck. He could see a hint of her slightly darker nipple.

“Would you like some tea before dinner?” he asked, ignoring the little discomfort of his cock caged in his pants.

“I’d love it,” she said.

“Are we going out or can I just wear comfortable clothes?” Maria asked.

“Maria,” he answered, “as far as I’m concerned, you can wear nothing at all!”

She threw him the towel, giggling.

When Andrea left her room, she let the robe slip down her shoulders and studied her body in the mirror. She’d never done that before, she never felt the need to look at her body before. Compared to the women she saw in magazines, her hips were too wide and her breasts too big, and her thighs a little too… meaty. Her stomach was flat but soft. Again, she felt her nipples tighten and between her legs she felt that tickling that was becoming so familiar but uncomfortable at the same time.

She dared to touch there to understand what was happening. On her fingers, there was a sticky fluid.

She was nervous but very, very excited.

When she finished drinking her tea, she got up to wash both their mugs. When she was at the sink, she felt Andrea hugging her from behind. She felt that bulge pressing against her lower back.

With his arms around her stomach, Andrea whispered in her right ear, “Naughty girl, you forgot to wear a bra. You’re killing me.”

Giggling, looking down at her breasts, she said, “I never wear it at home, sorry.”

As an answer, he nibbled her earlobe, making her shiver. With his head over her shoulder, he saw through the shirt her nipples stiffening. He moved his hands under her shirt, leaving them there, waiting a moment giving her time to accept the contact, and enjoying the feeling of her warm, smooth skin, for the first time.

When she didn’t resist, he moved one hand up, slowly and stroked for a moment the crease beneath her breast. He was in heaven.

She held her breath and her heart was pounding like it wanted to jump out of her rib cage. She lost herself in those sensations, leaning against his firm body. At that moment she wasn’t nervous anymore, she was savoring his touches.

He moved the hand up and cupped her breasts, rubbing her nipples with his thumbs, while kissing her neck and her shoulder.

She purred.

He continued for a little longer, then he moved one hand down, to her stomach, and down to the edge of her pants. Slowly, to give her time to react, he slipped the hand under her pants, and went down until he touched the hair on her mound.

She couldn’t breathe. Now she was nervous, she knew she was wet. She placed a hand on top of his to stop him.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, understanding her message, and moving his hand off her pants.

“No, wait,” she said, holding his hand there, “I need to explain.”

“Explain what? If you’re not ready, I promised you I won’t push,” Andrea said, trying not to reveal his disappointment.

“Can you please let me talk?” her voice squeaking.

“Okay,” he said, chuckling, and continuing his kissing.

“When I’m with you… when you kiss me,” she tried to say, “something weird happens.”

“Weird? Like what?” Andrea was alarmed now.

“I, ehm,” she continued, “I get wet and it’s embarrassing,” she explained, embarrassed.

Trying to hide his chuckling, he explained, “Honey, it’s normal. You’re getting ready for me, for us.” If it was possible, at that moment, he loved her even more.

“Oh jeez… I’m so sorry,” feeling ashamed, she said, “I’m so naive.”

“Hey, stop it!” He said, “You’re inexperienced, and I’m trying to give you the best experience. Your talking is helping me. Never, I mean never stop being honest with me and asking me questions. OK? I can’t make it the best moment for you if you don’t tell me what you feel. I love your wetness. You get wet, and my cock gets hard. It’s a different reaction to the same feeling of pleasure,” he explained, whispering.

“Ok,” she said, kissing him. Then added, “Do you mind continuing from where I stopped you?”

He chuckled and said, “I don’t mind it at all.”

She leaned her body against his, holding on to the counter with her hands to not fall on the floor like a potato bag.

With one hand on her breast under her shirt, as it was before, and the other one on her mound, he gently parted her lips, and slid the middle finger up and down her pussy’s slit.

“The more you’re wet, the more you’re aroused. And the more you’re wet, the more I get aroused,” he whispered in a calm voice.

She liked what he was doing and instinctively, she opened her legs.

Reading her body language, but not wanting to go too fast, he gently circled her entrance. Her moans told him she was accepting his intrusion.

Slowly, very slowly, he pushed his finger inside her wet pussy.

She held her breath and moaned. Then her hips began rocking at his rhythm.

Around his finger, he felt hot fluid and her pussy clamping. He knew she was close, and he wanted to prepare her for what was to come.

“Honey,” he whispered, “you’re about to cum. Don’t hold up, let it go. It’s all normal. I’m here and I love you,” kissing her neck.

He then pinched her nipple, a little at first, and a little firmer, after. Then, following the rhythm of her hips, he moved his finger a little faster in and out her pussy.

Her excitement was rising, the tension inside her spinning tighter and tighter.

When her shallow breathing got faster, and her hips moved to a faster rhythm, he rubbed her clit with his thumb. That was it, she groaned then held her breath and, like a hot shower, an orgasm wrapped her stomach, shaking all her body, making her cry out, “Oh my goooooooood!”

He gave her time to recover, leaving his finger inside her, enjoying the clenching of her pussy.

When her breath was back to a normal rhythm, he said, “This was just a taste. I have big plans for you,” he lifted her in his arms, and headed to his bedroom.

“Well, for me it was pretty amazing already,” she said, leaving a path of wet kisses on his neck.

He put her down on her feet to pull down the bed’s cover, then turned to her, lifted her shirt over her head and looked at her beautiful breasts.

“Wow! I was dreaming of these two amazing girls,” he said, bending down his head to kiss one breast then the other, gently sucking the darker nipples on top of them.

Stroking her back and her hips, he reached the waist of the pants. He squatted down in front of her and pulled the pants and panties down to her knees to discover a red-haired mound before him.

“Splendida” (beautiful), he said, “there are no other words to describe you. Inside and out, you are beautiful.”

She giggled because she had no idea how to answer.

She sat on the bed, and he knelt down between her parted legs, their eyes aligned. He gently put out his hand and stroked her face, she nestled into it, and he kissed her.

“Maria,” he said when they broke the kiss, “do you trust me?”

“Yes, of course. Why are you asking me?” she said, puzzled.

“Because tonight you’re going to discover a new world, new feelings, new emotions,” he said, then continued, “I promise you that everything I’m going to do, and everything you’re going to feel, is part of the lovemaking. The only thing I’m asking you is to let it go. Do not feel embarrassed with me. Can you do that?”

She thought about it for a moment, then answered, “I think so. At least I can try, I promise,” then said, “can I undress you?”

“Only the shirt for now or I won’t be able to complete my mission,” he answered, chuckling.

After she pulled off his shirt, he said, “I want you to feel all the love I have for you and I won’t do anything you wouldn’t like, I promise.” He kissed her again, stroking her beautiful breasts.

He bent and went kissing her breasts. After he worshipped her breasts and nipples, he gently pushed her down on her back, and placed her feet on the edge of the bed leaving her pussy completely exposed.

With her eyes closed, her knees bent, she breathed deeply and prepared herself for what was about to happen.

He gently parted her lips and she felt a blow that made her twitch. Then he kissed her right on top of her clit, making her jump.

With the tip of his tongue, he licked up and down, between her lips, insisting a little by her entrance, pushing his tongue inside.

She couldn’t believe that he was licking her there and smelling her scent. Oh god! But it felt so good. As she promised, she let go because he was giving her pleasure.

And there it was, she felt again something imploding inside her, starting from her chest, down to her womb, and her pussy.

She started pushing her hips toward his mouth, frantically. She then stopped with her hips up in the air, her legs shaking, her heart pounding fast, and she cried out another orgasm.

Only when he felt her body relaxing again, he kissed her pussy, and looked at her. She was so damn beautiful.

He pulled off his jeans and briefs jutting out his erection. He grabbed a condom from his nightstand and wrapped it around his cock.

With his hand, he opened her legs and lowered himself over her.

Kissing her, he said, “I’ll be gentle, I promise, but it will hurt a little, just this time. After that, I promise you, it’ll be fantastic. Okay?”

She nodded, smelling her own scent on his mouth.

He aligned his cock to her entrance, then slowly pushed his cock inside, a little bit at a time, giving her time to accommodate his size. Her pussy was tight, hot, and wet, and welcoming. He felt little contractions massaging his cock and breathed deeply to resist. He was so excited that he could just pump his cock in and cum.

“Breathe, honey, relax. If you bend your knees to your chest, it should feel better,” he suggested, and she did it.

He pushed a little bit more.

“Are you okay?” he asked, kissing her.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He gently pushed a little further and she sucked air in. He stopped and kissed her, giving her time. Then she exhaled and said, “Okay, I’m okay now.”

He pulled out a little and pushed in again, gently. Out and in again, going further with every thrust. At that moment he noticed she was following his rhythm. He stopped a moment to let her take the lead, and he started following her rhythm.

After some moments, her rhythm got faster, her heart pounded in her chest. Grabbing the sheets in her fists, she began moaning and pushing her hips up.

Their bodies danced to a symphony and became one. He thought he was in heaven and he found her mate. She thought if this wasn’t love, it was the closest thing for sure.

He fought hard to hold on, but it wasn’t easy. Looking down at her beautiful face, her lips parted, her neck arched, he couldn’t hold any longer.

At that moment her body began shaking and she cried out another orgasm, while he started thrusting faster trying not to hurt her but couldn’t be gentle either. He came right after her.

Quietly they resumed their regular breathing.

“Well,” she said, still panting a little, “if this is love-making, I missed a big deal. I need to make up for the time I lost.”

He chuckled, “Look at you!” and bent down to kiss her, “But not tonight, and maybe not tomorrow either. You’ll be sore. But stick around me and we’ll have plenty of occasions.”

He rolled beside her, peeled off the condom, pulled up the covers, and spooned her.

“Maria,” he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said in a very low voice.

They woke up, two hours later, hungry.

Paola was right, being honest with Andrea was the right thing to do.

“Andrea?” Maria said, leaning against the counter, watching him preparing breakfast.

“Yes?” he answered, not stopping what he was doing.

“I could get used to this,” she said, giggling.

“And what is this exactly?” he asked.

“Go for a ride, make love, fall asleep, eat,” she said.

He turned to look at her. She was beautiful with only his shirt on. “Oh yeah? I like it too” he said, “You’ll see when I show you a few new things.”

“New things?” she asked, “like what?”

He got closer, placed his hands beside her, kissed her, and whispered, “There are a few things that can be done on this counter, for example, or in the shower.”

She blushed, feeling again that tingling between her legs, and said, “Oh no! Not here! This is your parents’ house!”

He chuckled, “That means I can try at your house? Or mine?”

Maria soon enough found out what Andrea was talking about, on the counter, on the table, on the floor, and in the shower. Their fantasies had no limits.

Andrea and Maria, with Paola and Luca, got married the following spring.

Since that day, Paola, Luca, Maria, and Andrea spend every anniversary together, adding their children to the group.

Seven years ago, Andrea had an incredible offer to teach at the Harvard Medical School in Boston. So, now it’s either Maria and Andrea, with their children, going to Italy or Paola and Luca, with their children, going to Boston.

Both couples conceived their children on the anniversary celebrations and the two first-born and the two second-born were born the exact same day, an ocean away.