His arms went wide as he leaned back. “Who am I to say no to such a gift?” He took a confident step forward. “Just teach me how and it shall be done.”
From over her head, I ogled him in disbelief.
He shrugged. “What?”
The wise young woman chuckled, gaining his attention by grasping his face. “Never mind the one behind me who will never refuse me again.” She pressed her lips to his. After she pulled back, she teased, “You are a wonderful kisser, Sal Rossi.”
The girls in the water started giggling, so he turned to face them. “Ladies! Don’t be sad. There is plenty of Sal Rossi for all.” He walked into the water, fully clothed, chasing squealing girls.
The dark-haired beauty turned to face me and peered up with round, chocolate eyes. “Understood?”
I stared at her mouth, jealous Sal got to touch such lips that were so magical they made my brain stop properly working. “No.”
A little pink tongue licked those lips, entrancing me even more. “Let me explain. You are not the only one who has been spying.” My eyes raced to all the spots I had been hiding, wondering who dared to occupy them, but her hand brought my face back to see her. “I am not judging your sin. I have been watching you, too.” She stared at my mouth. “At church.”
Every Sunday, Sal and I attended services with the farm families. Had I known this stunning creature was in a nearby pew, I would have stayed awake more often and avoided many pinches by Mrs. Rossi.
A smile crept across my face. I may have been quieter and more reserved compared to Sal Rossi, but that sure didn’t stop me from kissing the fiery Zeta.
If it wasn’t winter or raining, not even Jesus could keep these Italians inside their homes at lunchtime. It was always a celebration to come together after some hard work to break bread. Coming back from yet another kiss from Zeta, I could hear all the voices as they prepared to serve our biggest meal of the day.
“Where are my boys?” yelled Mrs. Rossi.
That was the cue for Sal and me to pick up our pace.
Running, Sal hollered, “We are here, beautiful woman!”
She spun on her heel to face us. “Sal Rossi! Do not try to sweet talk me when you didn’t finish your morning chores!”
“Mamma! Why rush what there is always time to do later?” Sal kissed her cheek, sure to keep moving his body so she couldn’t smack him. She even kicked a leg at him as he skirted away.
When she saw me, she grabbed my face and kissed each of my cheeks. “My good boy who never causes me problems.”
I asked, “Is it the pig pen again?”
“I better not see you in there helping him finish.”
I didn’t reply, because I refused to lie to the woman who took me in as her own. Her ability to truly ‘see’ had her not asking why I didn’t answer. Instead, she kissed my cheek again then walked toward the filling tables. Everyone was all talking at the same time, and it warmed my heart. I missed my aunt and uncle and did my best to assure them I was well but was grateful to have acquired more family members. My father was the only one related to me by blood, but that didn’t matter at times like this. The good times.
That night, after we finished Sal’s unfinished chores and our evening ones, we laid in our beds, both staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t stop thinking of Zeta and her magic mouth that made my body react and ache. Just thinking about her was building a need for friction in my groin area. If Sal were sleeping, I would risk touching myself. I bet it would feel so good—
“Do you think we are thinking of the same thing?”
I didn’t move, positive that we were not thinking the same thing. “It is doubtful.”
“I am thinking of all the kisses from today.”
“Then we are definitely in the same arena.”
“I’m thinking about tugging on my soldier.”
I smirked. “Soldier?”
Sal shrugged. “My warrior. Always ready to step up and take one for the team.”
I rolled my eyes. “Dear God, Sal.”
“What? Now he is just waiting for you to fall to sleep.”
I had to quickly throw my pillow over my face to muffle my burst of laughter. What were the odds two teenage boys were thinking the same thing? I guessed very high.
Trying to quiet his own laughter so we wouldn’t wake his parents, he rolled to his side. “You too?”
With my face still embedded in the pillow, I nodded.
“Let’s do it!” he whispered.
I lifted the edge of my pillow, eyeing him accusingly.
“Not each other’s.” He gestured he was not interested in my pecker. “Stay in your own bed.”
Desperate for a release, and a shower in the middle of the night being suspicious, I questioned, “Is that not… weird?”
“As long as we don’t tug on each other’s, what is the problem?”
“Makes perfect sense to me.” In a hurry, I kicked off my blankets.
Sal rushed and leaned over the side of his bed and grabbed a sock laying by his work boots.
“What are you doing?”
His upper lip lifted. “I cannot leave Soldier’s magic on the sheets for poor Mamma.” He held up the sock. “Perfecto.”
My head bobbled as I decided Sal, yet again, had made sense, then I leaned over and grabbed my own dirty sock.
Best friends quietly and anxiously laid back in their beds, yanked down pajama bottoms, and ‘tugged’ on ‘soldiers,’ neither lasting longer than a minute.
Relief sating our hormones, we both tossed our socks next to our leather work boots and sighed back into our pillows. We stared at the ceiling for only seconds before our eyes closed and we drifted into a deep sleep.
It felt like we had barely shut our eyes when our bedroom door swung open, Mr. Rossi, yelling, “Wolf in the sheep pen!” before he took off running out of the front door.
Knowing what that meant, Sal and I jerked up to sit in our beds and grab our shoes. As soon as we each slipped on a sock, we both cringed.
Sal murmured, “Oh noooooo.”
Wetness had me about to yank off my sock until Mr. Rossi, already outside, banged on our one window. “Now! Now!”
We both jolted, then realized we had no time to fix the issue. Humiliated and disappointed, we had to slip on our dirty socks and boots and run.
Grabbing guns, I mumbled, “Next time, I am using your sock.”
We half-ran and hopped, not appreciating the wet sensation.
Sal laughed. “At least I am not an ‘Angel of the Night’ with soldier goo in my boot.”
I went to smack him on the back of his head, but he hobbled away too quickly.
For the next year, Sal and I trained for more skills we’d ‘need’ in the future. Mr. Rossi worked on our stealth in the dark. Why we would need to be so sneaky in the future was missed by me. Our speed was important, too. Yes, physical running was important, again for reasons unbeknownst to me, but it was the speed of reloading handguns, rifles, and shotguns that had Mr. Rossi’s interest. So, Sal and I practiced, pleasing Mr. Rossi.
When allowed to be teenagers again, I would sneak away, Sal following me into the woods, demanding, “She better have brought me a friend again!” to find Zeta waiting for me at the river. Sal would cheer, “Perfecto!” when seeing a friend, bashfully smiling, knowing she was his entertainment for the evening. By this point, Sal had kissed so many girls he was becoming an expert.