Santa Croce square buzzes with tournament cheers on January 28, 1475. I’m Guido Longhini, old alchemist, hidden behind shutters. My elixir’s ready—needs lovers’ juices for eternal youth. Heart pounds. I crave this taboo flip. Spot Tazzo, tanned hunk with blue eyes, black curls. Nearby, Laura Baldini, fiery redhead courtesan, tits spilling from her corset. My cock twitches despite age. I approach her. ‘Watch you fuck, pay big,’ I rasp. She laughs, agrees. Lures Tazzo with cleavage flash. They follow me home.
Dim room, oak table, dying fire. Chianti laced with sleep powder. Gold ducats seal deal. Tazzo strips her chemise, kneads white tits, sucks pink nipples. She moans loud, grabs his bulge. Unlaces him—thick cock springs from dark bush. She slurps it deep, lips sliding, veins pulsing. Kisses him sloppy. He peels her naked—smooth bald pussy gleams. Carries her to table. Dives tongue in, laps clit, drinks her slick honey. She bucks, screams orgasm. He rams in raw, pounding hard. Balls slap. Sweat drips. They collapse, spent, juices mixed.
The Awakening
I suck it up with syringe, careful not to spill. They sleep deep. Panic—their pulses weak. Mandrake revives them faintly. Drag to bed. Distill elixir in secret cellar. Fiery glow. Drink it down. Blackout.
Wake with fire in veins. Hand fine, pale. Chest heavy—soft tits! Fingers dive low—no cock, just wet slit, bushy mound. Rub clit, swells, juices flow. Electric jolts. Mirror: blonde bombshell, perky breasts, firm ass, golden pubes hiding virgin hole. Vénus reborn. Panic surges to lust. Drape sheet, sneak up. Clatter—caught! Tazzo naked, godlike, grabs me. ‘Pretty maid!’ Lies spill: Guido’s captive slut.
Laura on bed, ass up, fiery hair. Eyes me hungrily. Tazzo probes. She pulls sheet off. ‘Show what old man made you do.’ Hands roam my tits, pinch nipples hard. Fingers probe pussy—wet, virgin tight. Kisses devour. Tongue on tits, sucks fierce. Down to clit, licks expert. I buck, soul screams man but body melts. Kiss back wild. She grinds pussy on my face—bald, dripping. Lick deep, know her spots now. Orgasm rips me, thighs quake.
The Climax
She rides Tazzo’s cock, cums quick. Guides my hand to his slick shaft. Stroke together, he erupts, hot cum sprays tits. She smears, licks clean. Tingle lingers.
They leave. Alone, frustrated no dick. Elixir again—red wine dose. Wake male, young stud, curls, muscled, hazel eyes. Neveu Guido reborn.
Centuries later, Laura immortal too, eyes me in Uffizi before Botticelli’s Primavera. Modern prey: Ludovic. But that’s her tale. Mine? This swap’s thrill haunts. Pussy ache, cock envy. Secret rush of fucking as both. Forbidden peak. I’d drink again.