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Giuseppe And Maribella free porn video
The Story of Giuseppe and Maribella
Youthful romance in renaissance era Italy.
‘Giuseppe! Giuseppe D’Ostra, pay attention!’ Maestro Grassello, the fat professor of medicine, banged on the lectern with the hilt of his decorative dagger. Seeing the drowsy student rouse himself, he returned the blade to its sheath and tugged the sleeves of his doublet back into place, his scowl partially hidden by his full beard.
‘Sorry Maestro.’ Giuseppe blinked a couple of times to force himself fully awake, retrieved his quill from the floor where it had fallen and sat up straighter, flexing his wiry fencer’s shoulders. He tried to focus on the subject.
Many of the other students snickered at the young nobleman, enjoying his discomfort. All except one. Francisco was sitting next to Giuseppe at the long benches in the University hall and had been friends with the socially awkward nobleman since they both arrived at Macerata on the central eastern coast of Italy nearly a year ago. Giuseppe was glad to have at least one good friend and often loaned money to Francisco and otherwise helped the slightly younger student. This even though Giuseppe’s father, the Count of Ostra, would disapprove of his youngest son befriending a common merchant’s son.
‘Here,’ Francisco whispered, ‘these will help you stay awake.’ He reached under his doublet sleeve into one of the bag-like sleeves of his shirt and produced a small handful of mint leaves.
‘Ah, grazie – thanks Francisco.’ Giuseppe knew from his studies that mint leaves act as a natural stimulant. He should have thought to bring some, but his mind was on other things. He crushed some of the leaves, rubbed them across his mustache so he could inhale the scent and resumed taking notes on the lecture subject.
‘Now let us discuss the flow of humors in the body.’ Maestro Grassello went on with his talk about the latest improvements in fifteenth century medical knowledge. ‘Blood is the most accessible humor and so is the easiest to adjust. In the past, ill trained physicians prescribed bloodletting for every disease, completely ignoring excesses of any of the other humors. Today we have access to the wisdom of the ancient Greek physicians that allows us to subtly adjust the various humors. A phlegmatic individual, for instance, will need to be treated with an expectorant. This can be made from various herbal…’
Giuseppe tried to concentrate on the words but he found his mind slipping back to the Maestro’s pretty daughter Maribella. She was just about two years younger than Giuseppe and he had often seen her around town, at the market or fairs. But he was especially taken with her after seeing her betrothal ceremony. Some days ago in early spring, a bout of drinking and carousing had resulted in several sins that weighed on his conscience. He made his way to a nearby church for confession with a Priest that was friendly to the University students and very forgiving of their excesses and pranks. Giuseppe considered Father Pietro a friend as well as his confessor. On his way out of the Church of St. Fabiola after halfhearted prayer, he found a crowd gathered at the door with his friend, Father Pietro. They were announcing the banns of betrothal. Maribella looked beautiful in her new scarlet gown that accentuated the curve of her hips and held her generous breasts aloft, their upper slopes inadequately covered by the sheerness of her fine white chemise. Her sun-bleached curls were radiant under her embroidered cap and her skin glowed with the perfection of youth, this being only a few days past her eighteenth birthday. However there was sadness in her dark eyes and the corners of her rose-petal lips drooped in a frown.
Giuseppe thought that her sadness was caused by the dour figure that held her by the arm, her fiancee, Sfotuno. There couldn’t have been a greater difference between any couple unless an angel was standing next to death himself. The miserly old ship owner was skinny enough to be a skeleton and his dark doublet and hose made him appear even more severe. The ruffles of his shirt hung limply and were visibly in need of laundering. When he doffed his cap to the Priest, his completely bald scalp made the skeletal comparison complete. He looked in such a sorry state that Maribella had a good chance of becoming a widow during the excitement of her wedding night, if not soon after. Giuseppe resolved to bring comfort to the maiden himself, to ease her unhappiness at being yoked to such a corpselike suitor. He thought of several ways to bring a smile to that pretty face, most of them starting with a kiss of those soft lips. There was potential here for a lot of comforting, especially if her fiancee’s manhood were as limp as his shirt ruffles. Maribella would soon find out about the state of Sfortuno’s manhood, the wedding was to take place only a few weeks after this betrothal ceremony.
Giuseppe snapped out of his daydream and back into the present when Francisco nudged him and stood up as the professor left. The lecture was over and it was time for other pursuits. Once the professor had exited, the students were free to gather their belongings and leave the room.
‘Let’s go get some wine, I have quite a thirst today.’ Francisco suggested.
‘Not today, Francisco, I need to catch up on some reading and sleep.’ Giuseppe yawned. He wasn’t about to tell even his closest friend that he could barely sleep last night for thinking of the professor’s daughter.
He walked along the cobblestone streets, half-daydreaming and not really paying attention to where he was going. It was a while before he came up with a plan to meet Maribella and turned his steps towards his room. It would take a bit of preparation for his plan to work and he wanted to change into better clothes. But as they say ‘the best laid plans of mice and men…’ Giuseppe’s plans changed when the object of his desire suddenly materialized within view at a merchant’s stall across the crowded square. The young student could hardly believe his good fortune, she was only accompanied by one elderly servant to act as chaperone. She was in a knot of people trying to get the freshest pastries from the baker’s counter and they were continually jostling each other as they vied for the best items.
Giuseppe moved into the crowd and managed to place himself right behind the chaperone. With a quick move, he ‘accidentally’ stumbled against the older woman, causing her to bump into Maribella. He was hoping that he could get a chance to talk to the maiden, even if it started as an apology for tripping her servant. In another stroke of luck, the old woman’s walking stick fell as she stumbled, falling under Maribella’s feet. The old woman fought for balance and grabbed at Maribella, managing somehow to stay upright. However, Maribella was not so lucky. The walking stick rolled as she stepped on it, and the pressure from the other woman’s hands caused her foot to go sideways. She flopped backwards with a cry, landing in a sitting position on the cobblestones splay legged and clutching her ankle. Fortunately, her full skirts cushioned the landing somewhat.
Apologizing profusely, Giuseppe shooed away some of the crowd and tried to help Maribella to her feet. The chaperone started yelling at him, but he brushed her aside and caught hold of the young lady’s hands, gently hoisting her to a standing position.
The chaperone tried to shove the student away from her charge, but he ignored her, doffed his loaf-shaped student’s cap to Maribella and bowed, introducing himself. During the bow he also managed to use one foot to ‘accidentally’ nudge the chaperone’s fallen walking stick farther away from the old woman, causing her to limp off to retrieve it. Giuseppe now had his chance to talk to Maribella.
‘I’m sorry to have caused you such distress, is there anything that I can do to make up for it? My name, by the way, is Giuseppe D’Ostra. I’m a medical student at the University.’
‘No need to apologi
ze, I’m sure it was just accidental. Aren’t you the son of the Count of Ostra?’ She smiled at him, but her smile quickly faded when she tried to take a step. ‘Ow, my ankle.’
‘You must have twisted it when you fell. Let me help.’
Giuseppe supported her by one hand on her elbow and put his other arm around her supple waist, leading her over to sit on the edge of the fountain in the middle of the square. Even through the thick folds of her gown and chemise, he could feel the gentle curves of her young body. This was better than he had hoped. He eased her down on the fountain’s wide edge and kneeled at her feet. By this time, the chaperone was back and ready to whack Giuseppe over the head with her walking stick. Maribella stopped her with a look and a sharp word. Giuseppe ignored the older woman and continued with Maribella.
‘Let me take a look at that ankle. Purely professional,’ he reassured her, ‘I am a healer.’
He eased her carved leather shoe off of her dainty foot and proceeded to knead her ankle, while gently tugging on it. There wasn’t any swelling and he couldn’t feel anything out of place. He prattled on about healing techniques and medical learning while he changed his examination into a gentle massage of her foot and ankle through her stocking. This also gave him a chance to admire her well-formed calves that tapered down to her ankles. Maribella was not fat like her father, but she carried just enough extra weight to conform to the fashionable image of a woman of the renaissance. She stood about half a foot shorter than Giuseppe, 5-foot-2 or so, and had generous breasts cinched up behind the bodice of her gown. Giuseppe knew that her waist nipped in naturally and didn’t depend on the artifice of a corset. He had confirmed that much when his arm was around her. He hoped that the curves of her hips were just as natural, not padded as some women’s were.
‘…and now we recognize the benefits of massage for injuries of this type, the ancient Greek physicians knew this from their athletes.’ He was explaining as he continued his massage.
‘Is it true that the Greek men were nude for their Olympics?’ She giggled.
‘Yes, that’s true. I can show you the ancient statues in some of the noble’s courtyards. You can often see them from the street. Let me take you around to some of them…’
The chaperone interrupted, growling angrily at Giuseppe for such a forward suggestion and reminding the young lady that she was betrothed. Maribella gave Giuseppe a coy, sideways glance and briefly arched one eyebrow. Maybe he would have the chance to show her those statues someday. Giuseppe worked his massage along Maribella’s shapely foot, caressing her sole and playing with her toes.
Giuseppe was trying to arouse the young lady by his massage. He kept the pressure light and sensual, almost tickling her. He also drew on knowledge that he had learned long before he ever attended the University. There was a wise old woman in Ostra that some called a strega, a witch. Besides teaching him herbal lore, she had shown him the reflex points, the pressure points on the foot and ankle that corresponded to every other part of the body. Much like acupuncture, manipulating the correct spot could stimulate another part of the body to heal or to strengthen. He concentrated on the pressure points that corresponded to a woman’s tender spots and sexual organs, hoping that the stimulation there would arouse her just enough to have pleasant thoughts about him. She showed no sign of wanting him to stop and chatted on about her betrothal and impending wedding. She went so far as to hoist her skirts a few more inches and even made contented noises every so often. Maybe she was becoming aroused, Giuseppe prayed, enjoying a brief glimpse of the side of her bare knee above her stocking as she adjusted her skirts.
Her servant, however, put an end to Giuseppe’s attentions. Grabbing Maribella by the sleeve, she announced that it was time to go and started dragging her off. Almost like in a Cinderella story, Giuseppe ran after them to return Maribella’s shoe. He was rewarded with a peck on the cheek and a quick whisper before the young lady was dragged off again.
‘Will I see you again?’
‘I hope so.’ Giuseppe called, waving as the chaperone led her unwilling charge away. ‘Put a cool compress on that ankle, soak the compress in an infusion of comfrey.’
======
Giuseppe was practically squirming with anticipation when he returned to his modest room. He changed out of his student’s garb into better clothes. First he put on a clean shirt with fresh-pressed ruffles, tucking the shirttail into his tightest, brightly-striped hose, hoping to show off the strong muscles of his legs and backside. His manhood was stuffed into the tied codpiece and tightly cinched to show its outline to the best advantage. Next he shrugged into an emerald green embroidered doublet with tie-on sleeves and shoulders that had been artfully padded to give him a more muscular appearance than his well-toned fencer’s body normally had. A small pot of fragrance was produced from its hiding place and Giuseppe dabbed the infusion on his hair and various parts of his body. This was his own formula for the essence of mixed wildflowers and jasmine. He combed any tangles out of his hair and narrow mustache and made sure the rest of his noble face was shaved smooth. A few more mint leaves and cloves insured the freshness of his breath. The final touches were his rapier and dagger for defense, topped with a long dark cloak in case concealment became necessary.
By this time the sun had slipped below the horizon and the sky was growing darker. It only took a few moments for Giuseppe to position himself across the street from Maestro Grassello’s townhouse. He waited patiently until he could get a sense of the positions of the occupants. When the Maestro appeared to be in an upstairs room, he stepped forward and knocked at the door, whispering a brief prayer that Maribella herself would answer and not the elderly servant. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the young lady swung the door open. She was still wearing the same plain dress from earlier. It only took her a moment to recognize him.
‘Ah, Signore Giuseppe, have you come so soon to check on your patient?’ Her smile lit up the dark street as she looked him over.
‘Signorina Maribella, what a pleasant surprise to see you.’ He tugged off his loaf-shaped cap and gave a little bow, leaning close enough so that some of the flower scent in his hair would drift her way. ‘I was intending to ask Maestro Grassello a question about today’s lecture, but I would much rather talk to you. Is your ankle feeling better?’
‘Oh yes, thanks. You seem to have a healer’s touch. But if you need to ask my father a question, I’ll fetch him for you…’
‘There’s no hurry, I didn’t realize that you were the Maestro’s daughter. I’m certain that he would have healed your ankle in an instant.’
‘But it needed immediate attention.’ She tilted her head slightly, looking at him almost sideways. ‘And you have strong, yet gentle hands, healer’s hands. I enjoyed the massage and it gave my ankle instant relief. You’re wearing nicer clothes, is there some special occasion?’ She let one of her hands drift forward as she spoke. Giuseppe took the hint quickly and took her hand in his own, tenderly bringing it to his lips. He allowed his lips to explore her knuckles, briefly flicking his tongue between her fingers, causing her to blush and titter.
‘The occasion is special now that I get to see you again.’ He kept hold of her hand, pressing it to his chest near his heart while they chatted a while longer.
‘Maribella, Who’s at the door?’ A deep voice boomed from the stairwell behind her. She snatched her hand away and nervously tucked it behind her back.
‘It’s one of your students, Papa. He has a question about your lecture.’ Turning back to Giuseppe, she lowered her voice. ‘Will I see you in the marketp
lace tomorrow, same time?’
Giuseppe had just enough time to nod before the professor clumped down the stairs. His doublet was undone and it looked like he had been drinking a bit.
‘Oh it’s you.’ Grassello sneered. ‘Have you come to ask me to repeat my entire lecture?’
‘No, Maestro. I have a question about the flow of yellow bile in the system. If the bile duct empties into the bowels, then would a laxative be effective in treating a bilious patient? Would it have to be an oil soluble laxative, since yellow bile is somewhat oily in nature?’
Grassello was surprised at the question, he didn’t think that Giuseppe was paying any attention at all in the earlier lecture session. He had briefly touched on the matter of yellow bile, but hadn’t mentioned any specific treatments.
‘Why, no actually, er, yellow bile can usually be counteracted by giving the patient moist, cooling foods like salads and melons. If stronger treatment is needed, administer an oil that can dissolve bile. A dose of extra virgin olive oil will do. Laxatives and strong herbal treatments are reserved for acute cases.’ He glowered at Giuseppe and his voice became harsh again. ‘Does that answer your question?’
‘Perfectly, Maestro. Thank you.’
‘I’ll be covering that topic more fully in tomorrow’s lecture. Don’t be late.’ He slammed the door in Giuseppe’s face, cutting off any plans that the student may have had for further contact with Maribella. Giuseppe considered the day a success and hummed a happy tune all the way back to his room. For the first time in a week, he slept soundly and dreamed of the maiden who blushed and giggled at his touch.
======
Giuseppe arrived at the usual hour for the next day’s series of lectures. The students filed from one hall to the next, hauling their books and notes with them in cloth bags. Giuseppe had lectures on law in the morning and medicine in the afternoon. His father ordered him to be studying law exclusively, but the study of medicine fascinated the young man and he arranged his studies to cover both subjects. He stayed awake through all the lectures and managed to pay enough attention to take coherent notes on each subject. Even the scowling Grassello couldn’t find any fault with the young nobleman that day.
That afternoon, he prepared himself with mint and clove again and headed directly to the market square to search for Maribella. She spotted him first and sent her servant off on some excuse of an errand. Coming up nearly behind Giuseppe, she startled him by her greeting.
‘Signore Giuseppe,’ she wrapped her arm around his and drew him to the side of the square, ‘it’s good to see you again.’
‘Signorina Maribella, I was hoping I’d find you.’ He grinned and guided her free hand to his lips.
She gave her charming little giggle again as his tongue swept across the back of her hand, but kept guiding him deeper into the crowd. Presently they came to the wall of the square where there was a small alcove that was once used to house a statue, possibly a shrine of some sort. The statue was long gone and the depression in the wall, half-hidden by the vendor’s stalls, gave them a small amount of concealment. They stepped behind the carts and shared a hug and a peck on the cheek in greeting. Giuseppe and Maribella chatted, not saying much of anything but enjoying each other’s company. The close confines of the alcove gave him an excuse to keep his arms around her waist, not that he needed any excuse. She didn’t complain, either. The time they shared was soon over. They spotted her servant returning and looking around for her charge. Maribella excused herself from Giuseppe and planted a quick kiss on his lips before skipping away from the alcove towards her servant.
The next day they met at the alcove, exchanging a simple kiss and hug in greeting. Again they kept their arms around each other while they talked. Giuseppe made sure to punctuate their chat with several more kisses. When it was time for her to leave, he had gently coaxed Maribella to open her mouth slightly to allow the tip of his tongue to brush gently against the tip of hers. The day following, she opened her mouth to him when they kissed in greeting. She now took the initiative on occasion, leaning forward and tilting her head back, practically begging to be kissed. Before too long, he had let his hand slide down the back of her gown, coming to rest on her round bottom. Now he knew that she didn’t rely on any artificial padding, that part of her shape was purely natural, too. By the time they saw her servant returning, his tongue had made a full tour of her mouth, and she was even so bold as to return the favor.
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