A Place In The Sun


When missy and I first got together we managed to escape to a small villa in Tuscany for two weeks.  It was pre-D/s, although not entirely pre-kink!  The days were hot and the evenings a warm blanket of perfumed air.  We drove hundreds of miles that holiday, hopping from one fortress town to the next, wandering hand in hand, seeking refuse from the heat in shops that sold leather boots and handbags. In fact we spent a lot of time out of the sun I recall!

One day we arrived in Montepulciano and just followed our noses in and around the well-worn path of many tourists before us.  We were alone in our own little world, and it was heaven, nothing mattered but each other. It was getting late for lunch so we chanced our arm and tried to gain access to a restaurant situated in an underground cellar.  The place was adorned with black and white photographs of famous movie stars from all over the world, and on a large flat screen TV was Pavarotti, although singing, he was mute.  We were warmly welcomed and seated with a florish of brillant white napkins. The usual procedure of wine and food were ordered and we relaxed into private conversation.

Now I don’t know if it was because the restaurant was quiet, or that we were obviously tourists, that the manager took interest in us. He sat down, poured us wine and started to ask us about ourselves. He was very impressed that missy was a ‘Professore’ and with that produced his son who was the waiter. He expelled the virtues of his boy, and the huge list of classes he had to attend in an Italian school.  The whole experience was very comfortable and made you feel part of the family. Eventually, we were left to eat in peace when our plates arrived and was left with a promise that the manager would return for coffee and a drink on him!

It was quite evident that he took shine to us, and without great encouragement I should add.  Once the meal was over he produced three drinks on a tray.  Although we were alone, apart from an Italian family with kids in the restaurant, the manager banged on the table and proudly announced our engagement to be married!  Now that is all well and good, apart from the fact I had not proposed or even discussed marriage with missy!  A round of applause went up, and we just smiled and nodded in appreciation.  What else could we do?  The fun had only just begun, when without warning the formerly mute Pavarotti what jacked up in volume and the manager sank to one knee and sang to missy. It was hilarious to the point of being surreal.  He finished with a long note, and bowed his head.  More applause and a kiss on the cheek from missy to say thank you sealed the day.

I look at the attached picture and it transports me back in just one quick pose.  Italy holds a special place for the two of us and on recent visits we have made full use of beams and iron beds.  We need to return, alone, for time away with our fully formed D/s in play and a camera to capture more than just old buildings.  We returned to the same resaurant a year later, and the manager showed no flicker of recognotion in us at all. Whilst we were slightly disappointed, it just goes to show that fame is only a brief moment in time, but like the photographs on his restaurant wall, a picture can hold a thousand memories.

Posted in Dominant Reflections and tagged , .


  1. A restaurant owner my family met in Italy moved to America where we ran into him years later. But we recognized each other and continued to be great friends till he passed away. And I continue to tell kat that he made the best Italian food I’ve ever tasted. It’s often funny how chance meetings often go.

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