Pleasure, Knowledge, and Love

Pleasure, Knowledge, and Love

By Cuirbouilli

Anthony thought the Uffizi was amazing.  Every room contained a world-famous painting or sculpture.  He saw artwork there he recalled seeing in books since childhood.  The Madonna and Child with Angels by Filippo Lippi, The Birth of Venus by Botticelli, and The Venus of Urbino by Titian were among his favorites that he got to behold in all their glory.  To view such masterpieces with his very eyes was almost surreal to him.  

His brain was still buzzing from the experience as he sat down on the stone wall inside the Loggia dei Lanzi.  Propping his feet up on the slab, he leaned back on one arm and watched the people lined up outside the Uffizi across the street.  It was the off-season for tourism and there were still long lines of people waiting to get inside the museum.

He took a long drink from the lukewarm bottle of Coca Cola he pulled out of his jacket pocket.  It wasn’t much warmer than when he bought it.  

Anthony was twenty-seven years old.  He was an American college student.  It was spring break in April in 2007 and he was taking a ten-day tour of Italy.  He had already spent three days in Venice.  This was his second of three days in Florence and he was headed to Rome after that.   

Anthony’s Great-Grandmother Agnes died the year before and left him twenty-thousand dollars in her will.  He decided to use some of the money to pay for a trip to Italy to celebrate his upcoming college graduation.  What better place was there for an aspiring art student to gain inspiration than to view the greatest works in the world?

Anthony was going to graduate that June with a bachelor's degree in graphic design.  Maybe it was more accurate to say that if he didn’t graduate his Mom and Dad were going to kill him.  After eight years of helping him pay his college tuition and rent Anthony’s parents were seriously pressuring him to finish a degree and finally get a job.   

Anthony had to admit, he was getting tired of being an eternal student.  He just had trouble deciding what to do for a career.  He was talented at drawing.  When he graduated high school he thought he wanted to be an architect.  He was too right-brain dominant though.  After three years he realized that he would be miserable drafting buildings for the rest of his life, not to mention that he hated physics and calculus.    

Then his longtime girlfriend Amy broke up with him when she got her journalism degree and moved away.  He really liked Amy, but she was too anxious to get married.  He wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment at the young age of twenty-three.    

Somewhat disillusioned about his future, he spent another three years dabbling half-hearted in art classes while working a part-time job and partying with friends.  His parents were patient, but urged him increasingly to pick a major and finish his schooling.  

He started to feel like a loser when most of his old college friends moved on to the working world, got married, and started having kids.  

In the past two years he focused on graphic design and he had nearly completed the course work.  He wasn’t sure what he would do with his degree, but he had to start somewhere.  He understood that he would have to suffer through some low-paying entry level positions before he landed something good.

Another motivating factor for Anthony to get on with his life was his present situation with women.  

He dated a bit over the past couple years since Amy left.  The dating scene was no longer meeting his expectations like it used to, though, and he was becoming increasingly frustrated.  

Girls told Anthony he was cute for as long as he could remember.  He had deep brown eyes, a boyish grin, and his wavy, dark hair fell into place naturally if he raked his hand through it.  He stood six-feet tall with broad shoulders and was blessed with a lean, muscular build through no effort of his own.  He groomed an easy-going attitude and never had much trouble getting girls to go out with him.  He even got laid pretty regularly, so he really didn’t have much to complain about until now.

His present difficulty with women was meeting one that he was genuinely attracted to.

Something he discovered in recent years was that smart, confident women appealed to him way more than the brainless party chicks he was used to being around.  A poised, well-dressed, intelligent girl turned him on like crazy.  Unfortunately most of the girls he met acted stupid, dressed sloppy, or degraded themselves with crude behavior to cover up low self-esteem.  

He joked somewhat bitterly that he was looking for Natalie Portman and kept coming up with Tara Reid.  

Of course he knew he might be aiming too high.  A slacker student with no career prospects on the horizon probably couldn't expect some hot socialite to fall in love with him.  

He wasn’t going to give up trying though.  Even if he didn’t succeed there was always the thrill of the chase.

He took another drink of his flat soda and looked around the building he was in.

The Loggia dei Lanzi was a famous open-air sculpture gallery.  According to the tour guide the structure was built in the fourteenth century and was originally used for public gatherings before the Medicis filled it with art.  

The statues displayed within the Loggia depicted figures from classical mythology.  Some dated all the way back to antiquity.  The others were created during the renaissance or sometime in the centuries after.     

Three wide arches resting on four massive stone columns formed the front edifice of the Loggia, facing the square known as the Piazza della Signoria.  The gallery interior was spacious beneath a high vaulted ceiling.  A low stone wall traced along the perimeter and functioned as a place for people to sit and admire the sculptures or merely take in the atmosphere of the ancient city.  

Anthony sat in the back left corner where he had a good view of his spectacular surroundings.  There were three other people seated along the same section of wall as him and about twenty-five people in the gallery altogether.  Even in the off-season for tourism, Florence was a bustling place.

The Uffizi was to his right.  The gallery continued the entire length of the street and wrapped around to form the back wall of the Loggia behind him.  

The stark, crenellated medieval fortress known as the Palazzo Vecchio towered high above the square before him.  He pondered on how ruthless the Medici family must have been to rule Florence from such a formidable place.   

The striking nineteenth century sculpture titled The Rape of Polyxena loomed over him on the left.  Mighty Achilles was immortalized in white marble as he carried the Trojan princess away while threatening to strike her pleading mother, Queen Hecuba, with his sword.  

Anthony had already gazed at the statue for some minutes.  The bare-breasted female figures were very natural and beautiful to him.  The portrayal of female beauty varied over the centuries depending on artistic style, but he would argue that what a man recognized as “a pretty girl” probably looked the same now as she did five-hundred years ago.

The sound of women’s heels clicking on the stone pavement nearby drew his attention downward from the sculpture.  

He expected to see some local Italian women enjoying a smoke together.   

He blinked his eyes to do a double take.

Three of the most gorgeous women he had ever seen entered the gallery!  They paused for only a moment.  

His heart skipped a beat as they turned to walk in his direction!

All three women were jaw-droppingly beautiful!  Not only that, but they were each buttoned up in long, sleek black leather coats, one identical to the other with tall pointed collars flipped up around their necks!

Wow!  He had never seen anything like them before!

At first he could only tell them apart by the color of their hair.  There was a brunette, a blonde, and a redhead, all with long, wavy tresses.  Stepping in poised unison, they strutted side-by-side with their left arms cocked at the elbow.  Each of them held a cup of gelato in the palm of their gloved left hand like a game show hostess presenting a prize.  

They were the most unusual, unexpected, and spectacular ladies he ever laid eyes on!  

Anthony had dated some hot girls in the past couple years, but these women were unlike any he ever met.  Seeing any one of them alone would have blown him away.  To behold all three of them at the same time was unbelievable!  

The word “goddess” instantly came to mind as Anthony gaped at them.  If the Three Graces in Botticelli’s Primavera stepped out of the painting into the present world he would have hardly been more dazzled.  

They were coming directly toward him!  

His heart raced as they approached.  Suddenly self-conscious, he swung his feet down from the ledge, planting them flat on the ground.  He lowered his bottle of Coke between his legs.  His back stiffened.

The three goddesses seemed to move in slow motion as he watched.  

Smooth, perfect faces beamed proudly.  Luscious red lips glistened.  Svelte, polished figures bounced firmly with each graceful step.  The self-assured clicking of heels on pavement echoed in his ears.  

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he squirmed uncomfortably.

They were only twelve feet away and getting closer!  

He hadn’t felt so nervous in front of women since asking out his first date in junior high.

What would he say if they spoke to him?  He had no experience flirting with such ultra-sophisticated ladies.

They were so close he could see the smooth grain of their leather coats!  

His breath choked off in his throat.      

They were looking at him!  

At least that is what he thought for a second.

Three pairs of luminous eyes indeed glanced momentarily in his direction and passed over him without the slightest pause.  

He may as well have been another stone pillar for the attention they paid to him.   

Not so much as one finely arched eyebrow lifted to acknowledge his presence.

It was probably the first time in his life that he was glad not to be noticed by hot women.  In any other case he would be disappointed, but he was completely unprepared for such high-class ladies.  

He exhaled a sigh of relief and swallowed the lump in his throat.  

The brunette stopped and turned her back to him.  Her supple leather coat shifted in glossy ripples across her back as she moved.

She was so close he could have smacked her on the ass!  He could hear the flowing panels of her leather coat swishing!

Five statues of Sabine women stood evenly-spaced along the back wall of the Loggia.  People occupied most of the niches between the pedestals, but there was nobody in the alcove beside him.

Glancing toward the blonde, the brunette gestured toward the empty spot.  She said something he couldn't understand.

The blonde’s response was agreeable in tone, but equally unintelligible.  She held her cup of gelato out to the redhead who took it from her hand without question.  She then proceeded ahead of the brunette.

The wall he was sitting on formed a low platform leading to a higher ledge between the pedestals.  

The blonde stepped onto the niche gracefully, unhindered by the flaps of her maxi-length coat.  Her heels clicked on the stone slab as she spun around.  Gathering the long skirt of her coat like a dress behind her thighs she seated herself elegantly in the middle of the stone ledge as if it were a throne.  She crossed her legs at the knee.

With an enthusiastic chirp she splayed her gloved hands out toward the redhead who swiftly approached and gave the cup of gelato back to her.

The brunette mounted the wall next with equal grace.  She smoothed her coat over her shapely backside with one hand and settled herself in similar fashion to the blonde’s right.  She hooked her left knee over her right thigh and angled herself toward the blonde.

The redhead’s heels clopped as she climbed into the alcove.  She neatly placed her gelato on the ledge to the blonde’s left.  Unlike the other two women, the redhead had a glossy black leather purse hooked on her left shoulder.  She removed the bag from her arm and placed it against the wall, arranging it carefully so that the straps fell to one side.  

Clasping her hands together, the redhead asked the blonde something to which the blonde merely waved her spoon and shook her head no.  The redhead smiled and picked up her gelato.  She perched herself on the shelf with the same ladylike mannerisms as the other two, crossing her legs at the ankles, and facing the blonde as well.

The women began eating their gelatos while chatting among themselves.  He couldn’t help noticing that not one of them removed their leather gloves.

They were like three goddesses who ascended upon their dais for him to admire.  The sight of them was simultaneously thrilling and overwhelming to his senses.  They were so gorgeous he had trouble focusing.

With some effort he turned his attention to the blonde first.  

He had never seen such a captivating woman!  She could turn the head of a blind man!  

Her golden hair was brushed in a glamorous flip and cascaded in thick, silky waves behind her shoulders.  Her flawless, porcelain complexion practically glowed.  Her classic features were so exquisite Michelangelo himself might have chiseled them in marble to be David’s wife Bathsheba.  Her bright blue eyes were striking beneath long dark lashes.  Her plump, smiling lips were glossy crimson.

The woman’s coloring and delicate features reminded him of Diane Kruger or Nicole Kidman, although she was far prettier than either actress in his opinion.

Even in her full-length coat it was obvious that she had a fabulous figure to match her perfect face.  She was clearly built like a Victoria’s Secret model with long legs, shapely hips, a small waist, and a high, prominent bosom that molded roundly within the polished leather.

The brunette was also pale with smooth alabaster skin.  Unlike the blonde’s creamy radiance the brunette’s skin possessed more of an ivory hue.  Her lustrous chestnut hair was so dark it almost looked black and was styled in a flip similar to the blonde.  She was just as gorgeous, with dark brown eyes and pouty red lips.  At a profile her feminine jaw line was well-defined and her nose small and straight.

In body she appeared to be as equally well-endowed as the blonde.  Wearing the same outfit as they were, the two women might have been mirror reflections of one another in silhouette.  

The redhead was just as fair as her companions, but her complexion was somehow less ethereal.  Her aspect did not so closely resemble marble sculpture.  Her cheeks bloomed with a warm peach tint.  Her fiery copper hair was also parted in a flip and fell in loose, voluminous curls over her shoulders.  Her friendly eyes were emerald green.  Her lips were slightly more scarlet than blood red which better complemented her hair.  Her figure was stunning in her long leather coat, similar to her companions.

He could hear their conversation plainly, although he didn’t understand any of it.  Like most of the people in Florence, they weren’t speaking English.  He listened to them, trying to pick out the language.

It definitely wasn’t German and it didn’t sound like Spanish.  The brunette might pass for a local even with her pale skin, but they weren’t speaking Italian either.  

They were talking in French.

They continued to chat the entire time he watched them.  There was never more than a moment or two of silence between them and that occurred only if they all had a spoonful of gelato in their mouths.  He couldn’t understand anything they said, but their speech flowed swiftly and eloquently from their glossy red lips.

He always did think that French was a language that made the speaker sound very sexy and sophisticated.

The blonde smirked and pointed at something in the square with her spoon.  

The other two women glanced at the subject of interest.  The redhead giggled and modestly covered her mouth with the back of her gloved hand.  The brunette merely cocked her eyebrows before turning her head back toward the blonde.

He would have to turn and lean around the column at his back to see what they were looking at.  Rather than give away to the women that he was watching them, he stayed put.  He doubted that there could be anything more interesting than what he was already viewing.

He blinked and realized that he had been blatantly staring at the three women the whole time so far!  

He would have expected an annoyed glance or a self-conscious flinch by now, but not one of them acknowledged him at all.  Despite his close proximity, he may as well have been part of the wall for all the attention they paid to his presence.  Their eyes hardly strayed from each other.

Of course, women as attractive as the three of them were used to being stared at no doubt.  Surely they were vividly aware of it and maybe they even enjoyed basking in their own glory to some degree.  Regardless, experience probably taught them that it was prudent to simply ignore unwanted attention.

Since they didn’t seem to mind he continued to study them intently.  After all, there was no harm in looking was there?  At worst they might accuse him of being rude.

He turned his attention to their amazing outfits.  Each of them wore a white shirt and scarf inside their leather coat with gloves and high-heeled dress shoes.  They were uniformly appareled as if they were all three members of some posh sorority or country club that required leather in its dress code.

There was nothing particularly fancy about the design of their coats.  Nonetheless, their gleaming black leather coats could not be more spectacular to him in their sleek simplicity.

Anthony always did like the way leather looked on women, especially shiny black leather.  Leather skirts, leather pants, and women’s leather coats in particular were very stimulating to him.  In fact, nothing turned him on more than a long leather coat on an attractive lady.  He didn’t know why, but it had always been the case for him since he was a kid.  It was something he couldn’t control and he never told anyone about it.  He would be embarrassed to death if his friends and family found out that he had a leather fetish.    

Needless to say, though, if the three ladies had been sitting there in skimpy two-piece bikinis he could hardly be more aroused by the sight of them.

He could tell their coats were tailored in supple, smooth-grained lambskin by the liquid shine of them.  The coats were fitted with princess seams that very much flattered the women’s slender figures as he had already well observed.  Each coat was styled with a notched collar and a single-breasted placket closed by a long row of buttons.  The marbled black buttons were polished with raised rims and flat faces that flashed in the light.

The more buttons there were the better the leather coat in his opinion.

The blonde faced him most directly.  He tried to count how many buttons were on her coat.  It was somewhat difficult because of the way the leather gathered into soft folds in the hollow between her breasts and hips, but her erect posture revealed her upper half plainly.

The top button fastened the coat lapels above the swell of her breasts.  A second button pulled the leather into shiny creases across her flat abdomen along with a third button that was centered at her hourglass waist.  The lower buttons protruded atop the waves of leather that rippled over her crossed thighs and it looked like there were three of them.

As best as he could tell there were six buttons on the blonde’s leather coat altogether.  The number and placement of buttons appeared to be the same on the other women’s coats as well.  Three buttons glittered on each of their cuffs.

The fluid panels of the blonde’s leather coat gapped over her knee and ran to the lower half of her calves.  

Liquid black leather pants sheathed her long legs, tapering close along her shapely calves.  The sight of her was so dazzling that he didn’t notice them when she first sat down.

Wow!  A leather coat and leather pants!  

The hem of her pants rose about an inch above her delicate ankle bones as the supple leather gathered about her bent knees.  

From what he could see of the top of her feet and ankles sheer black silk stockings covered her legs inside her pants.

A pair of expensive-looking black patent leather pumps with narrow three inch heels cradled her gracefully arched feet.  He assumed they were probably Ferragamos or Gucci, but he really had no eye to recognize such details.  He just knew what kind of clothes he liked on women.  Otherwise he didn’t pay too much attention to fashion.

It wasn’t very cold out.  It was sunny and the temperature was supposed to be about fifty degrees Fahrenheit according to the news that morning.  Even in the shade he thought the weather felt rather comfortable in the fleece sweater and unzipped nylon windbreaker he had on.  

In fact, being in the presence of the three ladies caused him to get a little overheated.  He wiped a light film of sweat from his brow.

Needless to say, the women had to be quite warm enough in their long, luxurious leather coats.

Regardless, the blonde woman wore shiny black leather gloves on her slender hands.  He suspected this was mostly a fashion statement because she also wore a big gold ring with a lapis lazuli stone on the outside of her left glove.  He had only seen pictures of fashion models wearing rings on the outside of their gloves.

The collar of the blonde’s leather coat was very purposely flipped up, framing the collar of the crisp white blouse that hovered high about her throat.  The free ends of her pointed shirt collar partly overlapped the rim of her coat.  The top two buttons of her blouse were open to accommodate a shimmering scarf of royal blue silk wrapped around her elegant neck and tucked neatly inside the top of her shirt like an ascot.

The woman was the very portrait of confidence and sophistication.  Her image was altogether preppy and aristocratic.  She looked like she just stepped out of a Brooks Brothers catalog along with her friends.

The dark-haired beauty dressed exactly the same way as the blonde, complete with the collar of her coat turned up around her neck.  She sat at an angle relative to him.  From the three-quarter view this provided him he could fully appreciate how prominently the collar of her white blouse stuck out from the lapels of her leather coat.

The formality of a sharply pressed button-up blouse was a further turn-on for him, just adding to the rousing effect of the women’s leather coats.

The dark-haired woman distinguished herself from the blonde only by the color of her accessories.  A crimson silk scarf puffed inside the top of her blouse.  Her gloves were made of matching red leather.  A gold ring set with a large black onyx adorned the outside of her left hand glove.  Her slick leather pants were black, but her high-heeled shoes were ruby red like her gloves.

The redhead presented a slightly more reserved aspect than the other two even if her outfit was identical down to the sexy black leather pants he also glimpsed inside her coat flaps.  A green scarf that complemented her emerald eyes peeked out of her white shirt collar with green leather gloves and green leather pumps to match.  However, she did not wear a glove ring and the collar of her coat was only partly rolled up.

He could hardly separate the redhead's svelte leather-clad figure from her companions at first.  After a further look, though, he noticed there was something different about her.  It was subtle, but her proportions were slightly more ordinary than those of the other two women.  Her breasts did not fill the front of her coat quite so proudly and her contours were somehow not quite as luscious.

That being said, she was definitely the furthest thing from average.  Had he spotted her alone he would have remembered her as one of the most beautiful and amazingly dressed women he ever laid eyes on.  As it was she would share that place in his memory with the other two exceptionally gorgeous women.  

He wondered if the three women were models.  Maybe they were on break from a photo shoot for one of the local leather shops and they hadn’t changed clothes yet?  Would a shop owner let them eat gelato while wearing such extremely expensive leather coats though?

Then he considered a more obvious scenario that almost seemed too spectacular to be true.  Could the women actually just be wearing their own clothes?  Was it possible that they would dress so amazingly simply of their own personal choice?  Would three gorgeous women choose to put on matching leather outfits just for the fun of it?

The idea of them very much liking the look and feel of their leather garments was extremely erotic to him.  Did women of such deliciously decadent taste exist outside of his imagination?  He never believed that they did until now.

The blonde gestured toward the brunette's gelato and asked something, presumably about the flavor.  

The brunette responded by promptly scooping up a large chunk of her gelato and offering it to the blonde with her own spoon.  

Without hesitation the blonde opened her mouth and accepted the taste from the other woman's gloved hand.  

She didn't bite at it squeamishly with her perfect white teeth.  She bent forward and wrapped her moist red lips tightly around the white plastic spoon as the other woman slowly withdrew it.

After savoring the flavor for a moment the blonde swallowed and said something agreeable while licking her lips with her pink tongue.

The sound of her voice reminded him to breath again as he gaped at them in stunned euphoria.  

His throat was dry again as he swallowed.  

He clutched his bottle of Coke between his legs with both hands.  Unscrewing the cap, he took another drink.  The warm syrupy pop fizzed in his mouth.

The women continued to chat.

He couldn’t understand anything they were saying, but something about the flow of their conversation and their body language seemed to indicate the blonde was somehow superior.  The brunette and redhead seemed to talk to her and not so much to each other.  There was a stiff formality in the brunette’s voice when she spoke.  The redhead’s polite tone almost sounded submissive.   

Maybe it was the way the blonde carried herself.  Her bearing could easily be described as serene or perhaps majestic.  Those were adjectives he had never used for a woman before, but they were most appropriate for the blonde with her erect posture and perfect decorum.  She ate her gelato as if it was being served in a dish of fine China with a silver spoon.  

She appeared very placid and smug, but there was nothing cold about her.  She beamed with a joyful exuberance that was absolutely magnetic.  She obviously took pleasure in her friends and a smile played upon her sensual red lips more often than not while they talked.

Somehow, just looking at the blonde made him feel happy inside.  Her overwhelming beauty aside, she was simply the kind of person that he wanted to like him.  Just being in her presence made him feel better about himself.  He suspected that she probably got her way with everyone she met.

The dark-haired woman seemed to be the most serious of them.  There was a glint of shrewd intelligence in her eyes.  While she was obviously in a good mood, she didn’t smile quite as often or as sincerely as the other two women.  Her crimson lips pursed demurely and her fine eyebrows arched with what appeared to be perpetual disapproval.  However, she was so gorgeous that even a frown would look becoming on her face.

The brunette’s bearing was just as stately as the blonde’s, but somehow her mannerisms registered to him as rigid and pretentious compared to the blonde’s effortless grace.

The redhead seemed to be the most cheerful.  He imagined she had a very sweet personality.  Her eyes were soft and her brow was mild.  Her friendly smile looked entirely genuine.  She was the only one of the three women he might describe as “cute”.

The brunette and the blonde were far beyond cute.  They were no less than exquisite.  They were like untouchable supermodels from a magazine and catalog, wearing designer leather clothes for some exclusive fashion show.  They were clearly so far out of his league that he might as well long for the affections of Charlize Theron or Kate Beckinsale.  He accepted without question that he could only admire them from a distance without the slightest expectation of being associated with one of them.   

The redhead was the only one that did not completely intimidate him.  She looked like a woman that a mortal man could at least touch even if she was just as unobtainable.  

She was exactly the kind of girl he hoped to meet someday.  To be loved by an elegant woman dressed like her was a fantasy of his.  In fact, it was his greatest fantasy.  He hoped it was not an impossible dream, however unlikely it seemed to be so far.     

The women laughed about something.  Their faces lit up with dazzling smiles that made his heart skip another beat.  Bright eyes glittered and red lips spread broadly over sparkling white teeth.  Their unrestrained laughter was carefree and musical in pitch.  

As a graphic arts major Anthony had studied the science of facial beauty in some of his classes.  Out of personal interest he had also read a bit about what the human eye registered as a beautiful woman’s face.  

Symmetry was a basic requirement, but most importantly there was a “Divine Proportion”.  Facial features that conformed to this proportion were always recognized as more attractive than those that did not.  Leonardo da Vinci himself applied this “Golden Ratio” to his portraits and designs five hundred years ago.  

He would be willing to bet that the three women’s faces met this ratio.  The blonde undoubtedly fit the mathematical beauty mold exactly.  

The contraction of their facial muscles with laughter revealed other superficial characteristics of their beauty as well.  No frown lines furrowed their brows.  No wrinkles gathered in the corners of their eyes.  Their nasolabial folds barely indented around their toothsome grins.  Each plump set of lips remained full even when they parted widely over open mouths.

Their features were too natural and their expressions too lively to be the product of plastic surgery or paralyzing injections.  They were the real thing; three ultimate versions of the feminine ideal.

Being a single man entrenched in the dating scene, he automatically wondered how old the women were.  He always thought that extremely beautiful women possessed somewhat of an ageless quality that made it difficult to guess.  Perfection looked the same at twenty-one as it did at forty-one.  

Based on their youthful appearance alone, he would estimate all three women to be in their late twenties.  This was undoubtedly the coveted product of meticulous self-maintenance and cosmetics because he was sure they were all well past thirty.  Such flawless, genetically-superior women could prove nearly impervious to the passage of time well into their late forties.  

Something about the women made him certain they were older than he was.  Nobody would question that they were three young women in their prime, but they did not act like other girls his age.  

Their body language gave them away.  They were too calm and poised.  There was nothing trendy in their nuance or gesture.  He couldn’t understand their words, but there was nothing whiny or crude in the tone of their voices.  In the fifteen minutes they sat there not one of them answered or so much as touched a cell phone.

Nothing about them was meant to be cool.  They weren’t hip.  They were classic.  The blonde’s wholesome refinement very much reminded him of Grace Kelly.  The fiery brunette could be Rita Hayworth.  The redhead struck him as being sensible like Maureen O’Hara.

He didn’t know if their mature behavior was because they were French, but he found it very refreshing.  He always heard that French women were extremely comfortable with their sexuality and these ladies seemed to prove it.  

Their outfits alone set them apart from most women he knew.  He didn’t know any American girls his age that were elegant or confident enough to wear full length black leather coats, much less silk scarves and glove rings.

The blonde lifted another bite of gelato to her mouth.  A melting chunk of chocolate dripped from the her spoon and landed on her right breast.  It splattered and began to run down the impermeable surface of her leather coat.

"Oh!  Madame!" the redhead exclaimed before the blonde even noticed what happened.

Placing her cup on the stone platform, the redhead pulled off her right glove and reached into her purse.  

The blonde glanced down at herself without concern as the redhead swiftly produced a kerchief of white silk with lace trim in her delicate hand.  

The redhead reached to wipe the spill from the blonde's chest, but the brunette waved her away.

The brunette asked something that caused blonde to smile and nod her assent.  

With that the brunette swiped up the glob of gelato from the blonde’s breast with her gloved fingertip!  

The blonde didn't seem the slightest bit surprised or embarrassed to have the other woman touching her boob.  She merely watched with her arms flexed upward and fingers splayed.

Anthony’s breath caught in his throat as the beautiful brunette pressed exactly where he imagined the blonde’s nipple to be inside her clothes.  The brunette’s finger dimpled the shiny leather on the blonde’s plump bosom.   

He stiffened further as the brunette then raised her hand to her mouth and ceremoniously licked the gelato off her red leather finger!  Her liquid pink tongue stroked the ice cream upward.  Then she stuck her finger into her mouth and pulled it between her moist, puckered lips.

Was she for real?  Could she possibly be innocent of how utterly provocative her actions were?   

None of them had betrayed any notice of him, but maybe she knew he was watching.  Was she very purposely teasing him?

A sticky string of saliva glistened between the tip of the brunette’s tongue and her wet leather fingertip.  The liquid tendril snapped a second later as she lowered her hand.  

The blonde gushed something lighthearted at the brunette before scooping another melting spoonful into her mouth.

The brunette smacked her smiling lips and replied with a nod.  

The redhead fretted the entire time, waving her kerchief at the sticky smudge that remained on the blonde’s coat.  

The blonde lowered her arms with a sigh.

The redhead dampened her kerchief with saliva from her tongue and gingerly rubbed all trace of the smudge from the blonde’s prominent breast.  She wiped the silk cloth over the polished leather one last time and said something in a satisfied tone as she carefully inspected the blonde’s chest.

Damn!  These women were so unbelievably hot he was getting a hard on just watching them!

“Merci ma chère,” the blonde said sweetly.

The redhead replaced the kerchief in her bag and pulled her green leather glove back onto her hand before picking up her gelato.  

Anthony squirmed to allow the folds of his pants to conceal his erection.  The last swallow of his Coke burned the back of his dry throat.  He twisted the cap onto the bottle tightly.

The brunette finished eating her gelato first, licking her spoon clean like her finger.  

The blonde finished as well after only a few spoonfuls more.  She held her empty cup out as if she might simply drop it on the ground if somebody did not instantly take it from her.   

The redhead was still eating her own gelato, but dutifully removed the cup from the blonde’s hand and placed it on the stone seat beside her.  Before she could take another bite the brunette held her own empty cup out with an imperious expression.  The redhead accepted it from her and stacked it inside the other cup.  

The brunette slid her right hand into her coat pocket without removing her glove.  

He was probably imagining it, but Anthony thought he could hear her leather coat creaking as she shifted her weight to the opposite hip.  

Two seconds later she withdrew her hand, holding a compact mirror and a tube of lipstick.  She opened the richly enameled case and immediately offered it to the blonde.  

The blonde snatched up the mirror with her black leather hand and inspected her perfect face.  Her shiny fingertips brushed over her golden tresses and plucked at the crisp collar of her white blouse.

The brunette popped the cap off and twisted the red lipstick out of the tube before handing it to the blonde.

The blonde’s lips were barely smudged, but she puckered and painted on a fresh glossy layer regardless.

Once the blonde was satisfied with her reflection, she handed the mirror back to the brunette who then touched up her own lipstick with the same tube.  

Needless to say, watching the leather-clad women put red lipstick on with their gloved hands was just as provocative as everything else they did so far.    

If he watched these three women for much longer he would have to go back to his hotel room to change his pants!

The brunette snapped the mirror case shut and said something to the blonde who nodded in agreement.  

With that the brunette stood up and slipped the compact and lipstick back into her pocket.  Her fingers traced along the front placket of her coat as if to verify that she was still buttoned up secure inside it.

The blonde rose as well, smoothing her rippling leather coat over her hips.  She pressed her hands onto her flat belly and said something to the brunette with a content sigh.

The brunette descended from the wall with fluid ease, silky hair bouncing and black leather rippling about her.  

He ducked his head self-consciously as she bounded onto the flagstones only a few feet away from him, her candy red patent leather heels clicking loudly.  

Her dark lashes concealed her downcast eyes as he looked up at her again.  Never once did she make eye contact with him.  She turned and held her left hand out to the blonde.

The blonde smiled and clasped her hand affectionately, although it was clear that she did not need the support to steady her.  

She extended a polished toe downward like a ballerina and practically floated from the wall with her liquid leather coat flowing.  Her golden hair streamed behind her and the collar of her blouse rose beneath her chin as she hovered in midair for a split-second.  Then the soles of her pumps tapped softly as she alighted on the flagstones.

The blonde never let go of the brunette’s hand as she lowered her arm.  She clutched her friend’s hand eagerly, her shiny black leather glove melding with the brunette’s red one.  

He always heard that European women were much more touchy-feely with each other than American girls, he just never witnessed it so blatantly before.  He couldn’t help interpreting their behavior in a homoerotic context which was extremely stimulating from his perspective to say the least.  

Both women glanced toward the redhead who was still finishing her gelato.  The popped collars of their coats brushed their chins and buttons flashed along their supple hourglass figures.  

The brunette said something with an impatient expression.  Her heels scraped on the flagstones.

The redhead smiled discreetly and chirped something apologetic.  

After only a moment longer the brunette began walking toward the gallery entrance, tugging the blonde’s hand gently.  

The blonde did not resist, but chuckled something capriciously over her pointed collar as she strolled away with the brunette.

The redhead hurriedly swallowed one last bite and stacked her cup inside the other two.  

Then she sprang to her feet with clicking heels.  She flung her leather purse onto her left shoulder, producing a perceptible squeak as the straps sank into her plush leather coat.  Her hair fell over her right shoulder in a coppery wave as she bent at her slender waist to pick up the pile of empty cups.

She clambered from the wall somewhat precariously with clopping footfalls, carefully balancing the stack of cups in her hands.  The long fitted coat buttoned close around her slender thighs seemed to hinder her slightly, unlike her companions whose movements were obviously unrestricted by the garment.  Regardless, she still navigated the sixteen inch drop with extraordinary grace.  

He was amazed that women could do anything in high heels.  He would probably be lucky if he could walk in them much less climb from a wall.

Once on the ground the redhead swished past him hurriedly.  Like the other women she made no eye contact with him, but conspicuously so.

Anthony considered himself pretty decent at reading women’s body language.  

He did not question that the blonde and brunette had taken their measure of him in the imperceptible way hot women do and deemed him beneath their notice.  He accepted this as fact.  

The redhead didn’t just strut by as if he was invisible like the other two women did.  She acknowledged his presence by purposely turning her head the other way as she passed him.

As pathetic as it may be to admit, Anthony was gratified that he at least registered on the redhead’s radar.  

He stared stupidly at her lovely leather silhouette for a long moment.

Then it struck him.  She was walking away!  All three of the gorgeous women were vanishing as abruptly as they appeared!

There was a short flight of six steps flanked by two white marble Medici lions at the entrance to the Loggia.  The blonde and the brunette were already descending the stairs hand-in-hand, their slick leather coats gleaming in the sunlight.  

A panic-like emotion gripped Anthony as he lost sight of them among the people in the square.  

The redhead reached the stairs and started down them.  It would only be a few seconds before she was gone as well!

The three goddesses couldn’t disappear yet!  He wanted to admire them some more!  

Anthony jumped up from his seat.  His empty Coke bottle rolled from his lap and bounced on the ground behind him with a hollow plastic sound.  He hesitated for only a moment.  Normally he never littered, but if he stopped to pick up the bottle he might lose track of the women forever.

He rushed to the gallery entrance, pausing beside the marble lion as he peered around the massive pillar.  

The redhead was already at the bottom of the steps.  She made her way along the wall of the Loggia to a trash can and dropped her handful of cups into it.  Then she dashed after her friends in the square, the flaps of her leather coat flying around her legs.

The Piazza della Signoria was not as busy as it would be in the summer, but the square was still bustling public place even on a cool April afternoon.  A large tour group swarmed in front of the Loggia.

Anthony cursed to himself as the people clogged up his view.

Luckily the three resplendent goddesses did not simply blend into the crowd.  They stood out among the mundane masses like polished beacons crowned with burnished ebony, gold, and copper.  He spotted them easily from his elevated vantage point on top of the stairs.  

The blonde and brunette paused about twenty yards away to look toward the imposing facade of the Palazzo Vecchio towering high above the square.  The blonde was gesturing toward the replica statue of Michelangelo’s David near the palace door as the redhead joined them again.  

The blonde placed a hand on the redhead’s shoulder.  Her red lips smirked as she said something that made the redhead laugh.  The brunette burst into laughter as well.

The blonde was still holding hands with the brunette.  She slid her left hand into her coat pocket and stuck her elbow out from her side.  The redhead wrapped her hand around her friend’s arm gladly.  

Clinging to each other this way the three women turned and strutted across the square.

Should he follow them or not?  

He really had no choice to make.  There was no way he could just let them walk away.  He planned on doing some sightseeing that afternoon and there was no sight he would rather see more than three beautiful leather-clad women whether he was in Florence or anywhere else in the world!

Maybe, if he was really lucky, he might even manage to snap off some pictures of them with his camera!

They were halfway to the other side of the Piazza and getting further away each second he stood there deliberating.  Once they reached the labyrinth of winding medieval streets and alleyways he would never find them again.

His senses tingled at the prospect of the chase and his stomach churned with excitement.

If he was going after them he had to go now!

He launched down the steps and weaved his way through the cluster of people that clogged his path.  Dodging around passerby, he pursued them at a quick pace.

He was determined to worship the three goddesses for as long as possible.