A Return to Zizola and Giano

And brief excerpt from The Prologue of As Yet Un-Named Book Two: The Continuing Adventures of Zizola and her Servant Giano, the Terrible Tales and Fortunes of Fleeing Brides, The Curse of Animal Husbands, and A Dead Mother In Law Who Won't Let Go. 

 

It was easy enough to find the old trickster, Zizola thought as she approached the grove of laurel and myrtle trees that presided over a shade-filled glen carpeted in long sweet grass and wild flowers. Tiger-capped lilies and spider-wort shivered at the tussle of bodies half hidden where they lay at the base of the blooming stalks. Zizola could hear him and his consort of nymphs well before she could see him.

���Giano!��� she called, as she waded through the tall grass, brushing the low branches out of her face. ���Giano, you dowager���s hound, get your hump up. I���ve come to talk to you.���

A pink-faced nymph sat up, the tall grass barely concealing the generous flesh of her full breasts. She pouted, giving Zizola an annoyed expression, and then her eyes rolled up in delighted rapture. Something beneath her bounced her up and down with vigor, shaking the honeyed hair loose from its pins.

Zizola slowed, and then stopped altogether as the nymph arched her back and shrieked happily. Giano answered her, somewhere hidden in the grass, his body covered by the fleshy thighs of the nymph above him. He growled, then grunted, then barked out lusty names, ���my fat fruit, my honey roll, my melting gorgonzola.��� Zizola shrugged, annoyed at having to wait for the old letch to finish, but she knew enough of his habits to know that when he started confusing his paramours with food he was nearly done. Sex made him hungry, and she was certain that his climaxes were caused as much by a fierce desire for food as from the generous flesh of the woman riding his ever-ready asparagus.

���Dai, dai, hurry it along,��� Zizola shouted impatiently. ���I haven���t got all day.���

���I do,��� moaned the nymph, and licked her lips.

���Pasta con fungi, mounds of ricotta with honey and raisins, Ferrera lasgna with veal and cinnamon,��� Zizola taunted and heard Giano���s moans. She spoke faster, ���Ragu, risotto with pidegon peas, ucellini in brown sauce������

Giano growled, the nymph squealed and then pitched forward, only the rhythmic rise and fall of her spine visible above the curtain of tall grass. Their heavy panting ruffled the shivering lilies.

���Bene,��� Zizola snorted, waiting with arms crossed until the nymph rolled over and disappeared beneath the veil of green.

Giano sat up, leaves and crushed flowers entwined in the tangle of graying hair. His skin beneath a scraggly beard was ruddy and chaffed. He yawned, and gave Zizola a sly, sleepy smile.

���Carina,��� he said, scratching his scrawny chest, and the dark eyes looked at her with mock disappointment. ���To hurry a man along in his labors in such an edible fashion��� really���.it isn���t fair. You know my weakness,��� he complained. ���If only I knew yours���I could return the favor.���

Zizola bit her thumb and shook it at him. ���Get up old man.���

He grinned and stood, the tips of the grass and the belling flowers barely covering his naked flanks...

 

Art Credit: Alexey Kondakov. Check out more of his wonderful combinations of Renaissance Art and the Modern landscape.