Mostly we did it in the pantry… although sometimes we fucked in one of the 2000 bathrooms in the giant house.

Occasionally it was in a spare bedroom…

And even once or twice outside, in the beautiful gardens.

Then he started visiting me in my room in the servant quarters at night…

And we’d fuck for hours before I’d kick him out so I could at least getsomesleep before I had to get up and start my shift.

I could never say no to him.

I tried… but I didn’t reallywantto say ‘no.’

Not to that beautiful face…

That incredible body…

Or that huge, gorgeous cock.

So I always fucked him.Always.

I knew it wasn’t going to last, so I was going to enjoy it while it did.

Why wouldn’t it last, you might ask?

Well, I mean, I was a girl who worked in the kitchen –

And he was in the richest family in Tuscany.

Not to mention he was in the mafia, though neither of us ever talked about that.

Not that we had a ton of time for talking.

We started talking more at night, though, when he began to sneak into my room.

I’d tell him stories about Nonna and how I’d always wanted to cook.

He’d tell me stories about his mother, who had died from cancer when he was only 13.

He broke my heart the way he talked about her.

For somebody (me) who’d had a bad relationship with her own parents, the love he had for his mom was like something out of a storybook…

And it made me like him all the more.

One of his stories really stood out to me – because it involved both love and food.

“She used to make me this special version of almond milk when I was little,” he said one time. “She learned it from my grandmother – my dad’s mom – who was Sicilian.

“Mom would soak almonds for two days, then blend them up… but when she strained out the milk, she would add back in some of the pulp so it was kind of grainy. Then she would put a big spoonful of cherry preserves in the bottom.

“I used to love that. Sometimes I’d stir it up so the cherries were mixed in, but a lot of times I’d just drink all the sweet milk so I could eat the cherries by themselves.” He smiled sadly. “She made it just for me. None of my brothers liked it that much… so she made it just for me.”

“She didn’t have servants fix it for you?” I asked, surprised.

“No, she did it all herself.”

That astounded me.