Past, Present and Future Ch. 04

He handed me a whisk and the bowl with eggs in it.

"Some people like to make their omelets richer by adding milk or even cream. Especially for this sort, I prefer fluffy to rich, so all we'll add is a couple of teaspoons of water."

He handed me the measuring spoon. "Or you can just eye-ball it."

I used the spoon.

"OK, just flail away. Beat them up. A whisk makes it easier, but you can use a fork if that's all you have. Try to use wrist motion rather than your whole arm. You'll get better control, less splash."

I began working the eggs, smiled when he stood beside me, his hand coming down to squeeze a buttock before rising to rest tenderly on my bare hip.

"That's enough. And the butter should be melted by now. We don't want it to brown. Swirl it around so that coats the entire inside of the pan."

Tony dumped the eggs into the pan, sprinkled the chopped herbs all over and handed me a fork.

"Start stirring. We want a thin layer of not-quite-cooked scrambled eggs."

Then, "Enough, put the fork down. We could leave it like this, but I like to strengthen the edges, so it doesn't tear when we go to fold it."

Taking the pan from me, he demonstrated, tilting the pan. Some of the still-uncooked eggs flowed down to form a shallow puddle by the edge. Using a flexible spatula, he lifted the edge of the omelet, allowed some of the liquid eggs to flow down into the gap. He handed me the flipper.

"Your turn. Work your way around it."

It was easy enough, but I would never have thought of it.

"That's enough. We'll let it cook until the top looks a little dry."

A minute later, he took over, showed me how to flip the soft eggs without tearing. Cutting the folded omelet in half, he put one piece on each of our plates, sprinkled a few leftover chopped herbs on top, garnished with some more parsley.

"Voila!" he said. "Good job, you."

"'Voila', from an Italian, Tony?" I snickered.

He looked sheepish. "Not so loud; Momma would rise up out of her grave if she heard you! French cuisine wasn't fit for human consumprion, according to her." He grinned. "Funny how one's horizons broaden as one gets older."

His hand pulled me in for a brief hug, released me.

"Bread and salad's on the table." He seated me, a gentleman, even here. "For a meal this light, we'll want a light wine, too."

As I might have expected, dinner was superlative.

"I've never had eggs this good, Tony. Thank you!"

He just smiled at me. "You cooked it, Stephanie."

+

It was still hot after we'd finished doing the dishes.

"I'm for the pool," I announced. He nodded, went to leave his clothes in his bedroom, returning just in time to see my second front flip off the board. I could see the admiration in his eyes when I surfaced.

No diver he, Tony just walked into the pool with a massive splash. I ducked under the water and came up behind him. His head flipped back and forth, looking for me. I sank below the surface, swam around him and took his sex in my hand, pulled myself towards him to suck him in briefly between my lips, tongued his soft head before surfacing, laughing in front of him.

I loved the smile on his face, the way his hands swept me against him, the way they held me tight.

Smiling, I leaned up for a kiss. I wasn't disappointed; his face came to mine and my heart almost stopped.

"You are amazing," he laughed. "How do you always know how to light up my life, Stephanie?"

There was no answering that. I just hugged him as hard as I could, glowed inside at the feel of his hands on my bum.

Getting out of the pool, he set two chairs together, facing to where the sunset was just beginning to form.

"Join me?"

"Of course." I dried myself off, hung up my towel, sat down. I was still surprised at the feeling of wicker against my bare bum -- comfortable enough, but strange.

Tony went inside, returned in a few minutes with the remaining half-bottle of wine. He'd combed his hair and beard and had, for the first time since I'd known him, put on a shin-length wrap of some sort. A sarong, maybe? I wouldn't call it a kilt. Bright blue, it stood out well against his tanned skin. It — he — looked smashing.

"This is new," I said.

"I went on vacation in the Cook Islands. Everybody wore them and I found they are a lot more comfortable in hot weather than, say, jeans."

"Oh."

Tony motioned me out of the chair, chose instead a pair of chaise lounges. Positioning them side by side, he helped me sit down. We watched the farmlands, coming into harvest soon enough.

He reached out, pointed, as he had done that first night, to a gap between two woodlots. I was as entranced, now as then, to see two whitetail does with their fawns cross on their way to lie up for the night. I squeezed his hand in thanks.

His hand squeezed back, then slid over to come to rest on my thigh. I felt his fingertips slide over my skin.

"So smooth," he whispered.

"Glad you like them, sir."

His hand travelled down to my knee. I shivered as it gently made its way back up, slowly, so softly as to be almost imperceptible. Back down. Up again. He knew how sensitive my thighs were; the man was a master at arousing me.

I closed my eyes, opened them to see him smiling at the sight of my nipples springing to attention.

"Glad to see I'm not the only one enjoying myself," he smiled.

I closed my eyes again. He shifted in his chaise and I gasped a little as his lips found a nipple. His lips held my bud while his tongue swept its tip, over and over. Instinctively, I pulled his head against my me, hard, moaned as his tongue swept my nipple, harder, faster.

I gasped again as his hand rose up along my leg, a fingertip tracing along my ladybits. I felt a sudden slippery wetness under his finger, felt my lower lips swell in welcome.

I could see how this would go. I knew I was going to — sooner or later — have an amazing orgasm. I lay back, soaking in his stimulation for a moment, then changed my mind. I squirmed away, hopped off the chaise. I reached down, touched the tip of his nose with my finger.

""You're very good, Tony. I don't know who taught you, but I'd like to send her flowers. Right now, I want to play, too."

I could see a small tent in his sarong, pointed at it. "I think somebody else does, too."

He just lay back, watching me. I moved to behind my chaise, lowered its back down to horizontal. Two seconds later, his chaise joined mine; he brought his hands behind his head. I knelt on my chaise, facing him.

I held up my breasts with their now-rigid tips for his inspection, ran my thumbs over them and saw the hunger in his eyes grow. "You drive me crazy, Tony. I love it. It's amazing. But sometimes I want to get you super-horny, too.

"If you don't mind, that is. If it would please you."

He smiled, waved one hand in a go ahead  gesture, returned it to behind his head.

"To start off with, would it please Mr. diRossi to watch me do this?"

Kneeling, I spread my legs wider, making my sex easily visible to him. I could feel the warm evening breeze on my wetness. Keeping my eyes locked on his, I reached down, trailed a forefinger along my glistening labia, back, forward again, then around my clit.

His eyes widened. From the corner of my eye, I could see his member twitch under the colourful fabric. I laughed, reached to get a grip on the fabric, pulled.

A second, harder tug pulled it loose. His cock swayed a little as I flipped the fabric to one side. Tony didn't move; his eyes remained on my hand slowly moving over my sex.

My arousal was climbing with each touch of my finger, but I could see it build in Tony's eyes, too. I see it in the set of his face, in the sudden tautness in his belly.

I shifted to beside his knees, his poor knees, scarred and battered from that long-ago helicopter crash. I leaned down, kissed first one, then the other, leaned closer, ran a nipple over one kneecap, then the second. A quick glance showed Tony staring, fascinated, his cock now stiff with his desire.

I leaned further up, ran my tongue over his knees, left first, then right, felt the puckered, twisted flesh, slid further up his legs, back and forth along and between his inner thighs. I felt his breath catch, smiled inwardly.

Resting more on one elbow, I reached up, cupped his sac, tight now against his abdomen. His hand swept over my head, played with my hair.

I was close enough that I could smell his male scent. I paused, inhaled deeply, felt it resonate deeply inside me, felt my nipples and nipples swell still more.

I licked gently behind his twins, heard him hiss as my tongue circled their wrinkled sac. I shifted my hand, seized his hardness, felt the blood beat in it, squeezed. Shifting again, I rubbed his crown with one nipple, then the other before sliding down to take him in my mouth. He tasted of musk, of love, of Tony. I lowered my head, took him deeper.

My lips made a soft pop  immensely strong hands seized me around my ribs, lifted me like a child, laid me down, my head on his inner thigh, his cock inches away. I felt his beard inside my own legs, wiggled with pleasure as his tongue found my sex.

I took him by the shaft, pulled myself closed enough that I could swirl my tongue around his crown, flick lightly at his slit. I stopped for a second as his lips closed on my clit, sucking it deeper, pulling softly on it. A weight began to build within me, heavy, latent -- a rock, hovering on the brink of a mountain slope.

I pulled his head into my mouth, shifted again to take him still deeper. Holding him around his sac and the base of his shaft, I started to bob my head, sucking him into me, my cheeks hollow, my tongue lashing his head.

I again groaned around the length filling my mouth. Tony's hands seized my hips, pulled his head against me. I moaned, more loudly now, as a finger found my entrance, probed, swept over my welcoming walls. His tongue waltzed with my clit, driving me higher still.

I shifted my hand to grasp his shaft outside my mouth, began to pump his skin back and forth.

The rock within me fell free, knocked another loose, then another, a building rockslide of irresistible pleasure. I sucked harder, pumped faster. Tony's leg under my head tensed and I could feel his orgasm begin. I pulled him in, almost to the back of my throat, began swallowing his joy as his manhood surged and shuddered on my tongue. Inside me, the avalanche grew, sweeping all before it. I pulled off him, gasping with happiness, gasping for air.

Tony's head fell back from my pussy, lay on my leg. His hand drifted lovingly over my hip. Again he leaned forward for a moment, kissed my ladybits gently.

I drifted off to sleep, smiling at a gentle finger tracing its way down my spine.

I dreamed of blossoms, of butterflies, of endless drives along flowered country roads.

Of Tony.

+

Pi, the farm's feline owner, woke me up Saturday morning by walking on my tummy. She was polite about my having taken her side of the bed and let me off with only a warning.

It was a lovely morning, warm already, warm enough for the pool. Rather than starting my homework, I decided to practise my dives.

I'd been almost satisfied with a half gainer, a backwards dive. I emerged from the water to see Tony standing with a cup of coffee in his hand. As usual on arising, he worse only a pair of white cotton pyjama bottoms, the waist cords carefully tied. Typically, he'd combed his white hair and beard on arising.

He looked gorgeous. Older, yes; slack or flabby, no. He limped a bit, particularly when it was cold — no surprise, given the damage from that crash — but Tony worked out, kept himself in delightful shape.

I climbed out, kissed him as he wrapped a big towel around me and pulled me into a fond embrace.

"How's Stephanie this morning?"

"Happy to see Tony."

He laughed gently. I could feel the kindness in him, wondered at my luck. I could have still been dating one of the boys on campus.

"Any special plans for today?" he asked.

"No. I have work to do, of course."

"Need some help with your lab report?"

"Please."

+

He paused, peered at me, tilted his head to one side.

"You're rather quiet this morning, Stephanie. Is something bothering you?"

Sometimes the man was just too perceptive. I'd been trying to figure out how to raise the issue, but he'd beaten me to the punch.

"Oh, it's just Marcy. Her family life has been really miserable lately, her boyfriend broke up with her two weeks ago and she's just generally blue. Rez fever on top of it too, I guess; at times, it seems like the place has bars on the windows."

"You're concerned."

"She's upset and she's my friend."

"And...?"

"She asked if she could come out here for a few hours." That came out in a rush, but getting it out in the open made it easier.

"What did you tell her?"

"I said I needed to talk to you."

"Well, now you are, but I'd already said it was your decision, Stephanie."

I stroked his cheek. "Tony, you are a wonderful, kind, generous man, but you can play pretty rough. I know I was behaving like a silly little fool that afternoon, but there aren't many girls could deal with your expectations. Don't get me wrong; you're an amazing gentleman when you let yourself, but I don't think Marcy is quite ready for you in your feral state."

His eyebrows went up at my use of that word.

"And I'm not sure if I'm ready to watch you playing hardball with my best friend, either."

"I'm hardly likely to seduce your best friend in front of you, Stephanie." His expression was half-amused, half-affronted.

"Look, I know you said it was my call, but what are your expectations if she comes here? I know how you treated me, and I'm thrilled — now — but it was a tough go then and Marcy's kind of fragile at present. And you weren't 100 percent clear about here when you talked to us at the library."

He raised his eyebrows again. Obviously, he thought he had been.

"Tony, you said, 'under the same conditions'. I know that that means I need to stay peeled. I'm OK with that, but what about Marcy?"

He thought for a second. "Which would you prefer, Stephanie? You're roommates; presumably you've seen each other."

"Of course, but not like this, not for long periods. And this place is crackling with sex, Tony. I don't want to be the only bare one here in any case."

He grinned. "OK, so she has to join you."

I grinned back cautiously.

"Or both of you do."

He glared at me. Never in hell.

"OK, got it. But you were pretty direct, Tony, pretty open about staring at me. It's nervous-making for a girl."

"Sorry, but I'm a boy. I'm going to look."

I nodded. Point to him, I guess.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Seriously, was I really negotiating this?

I leaned against him, gave him a gentle hug. "Ok, here's the tough one for me, Tony. I'm not sure I could bear to watch you with her."

"I think I just said I wasn't going to seduce her, Stephanie."

"Yes, but all of it. There's magic in your fingers, Tony. Each time your touched me that first time was..." I paused, tried to think how best to say it.

"I'm trying really hard not to be possessive, Tony, but I'm just not sure I can watch you getting even a little bit physical with her."

"Stephanie, I can live with 'look but don't touch', if that's what would make you feel better." His smile was surprisingly reassuring.

He stroked my hair with a hand, kissed my forehead.

I squeezed his arm, looked up into those grey, knowing eyes. "Thank you, dear. I'm very grateful. I'll ask her to come just until dinner."

It was, I knew, a measure of how far our relationship had developed. Despite being stark naked all the time, I was far more confident, far more willing to stand up to him than I would have been fully dressed a month ago. And Tony had become gentler, less wary, less demanding, more willing to accept my standing up for myself.

I looked at my phone. It was 9:30 A.M. I thought of texting, decided to call instead.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"I really need to get out of here, out of the city, Stephanie. Please."

"OK, how about you come from whenever you get here until 5 this afternoon? But Marcy, you know the basic rule, right?"

Dead silence at the other end. I decided to nudge her.

"Just for the record, you told me you were topless at the beach when you went down south for Spring Break. I know what bikini bottoms you wore; there isn't a heck of a lot of difference between topless in those and nothin'-at-all naked. And that was in front of ten thousand drunken 20-year-old boys."

"I know," she sighed. "But that many guys are like, I don't know, wallpaper, maybe? They're not even real. But one man, all by himself...

"Especially Tony," she said, very softly.

Why,   I wondered, was I trying to convince my best friend to take off her clothes off in front of my boyfriend?

"He won't lay a finger on you, Marce."

"I know, I know, it's just..."

"I understand. Really. But it's his house, his rules. Well, his rules for me anyway and I'm not going to be the only one here without clothes. I love my roomie, hon, but that's it. Sorry."

"You sure he won't...."

"I promise."

There was a long pause. "OK. Fine."

There was another pause.

"I'll do it."

I texted her directions. Her reply was almost instant: 1030 c u thanx.

I grinned — it wouldn't, after all, take her long to pack.

+

I was waiting for her by the barn and heard her the muffler on her old Ford before she turned into the lane.

I waved to her and pointed to a parking spot. Silence returned when she turned off the engine.

Still inside the car, her eyes ran over me, then around the farmyard, then back to me. Yeah, roommates, but nudity in residence was quick-change and unprovocative. A tall, utterly bare blonde casually leaning against a tree was in a different category entirely.

I walked out towards her, careful of my feet on the gravel. I stopped a few feet from her door and, a welcoming smile on my face, waited. Eventually she got out.

"Hey."

"Hey. How was the drive?"

The girl was silent. Her eyes swept over me, as if trying to make her brain accept what she was seeing. I'd thought of putting on some clothes to make it easier for her, but, as they say, the best way to get used to the water is to just dive in. So — Bare.

Under normal conditions, I would have offered a hug. Not today, not like this.

"Tony?" she asked.

"He's out back. You won't see him until you're ready to, Marcy. Like I said, he's a gentleman."

"Oh." I couldn't tell if she was relieved or upset.

Her finger rose, swept over the links of the heavy silver necklace around my neck.

"This is it, right? And you gave it back, Stephanie?" There was a look of small awe on her face.

"He didn't buy me, Marcy. It's a small difference, but important."

"Yeah. I suppose."

I helped her carry her easel and stuff, put it all down on the porch. There were a couple of new chairs and we sat down.

"Let's talk before we go in. Can I get you something to drink?"

I could see she was as nervous as a mouse at a tomcat convention. Well, I'd been that way my first time here.

She shook her head. "No, thanks." She leaned her head back, rested it on the wall behind her, took a deep breath, let it out slowly.

"What in hell have I got myself into?" I snickered.

She looked at me out the corner of one eye. "So, you're a mind reader now?"

"Not hard in this case."

"No. I guess not."

"You can change your mind, Marcy. Nobody will judge, I promise. I'll see you Sunday."

She gave a weak grin, turned away and stared off into the distance, deliberately not looking at me.