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“It’s cool.” He sighed, arching his back to rub his ass into my cock. That was all I needed, for within moments I was sheathed in slippery latex and inside his hot, tight ass. He laid on his left hip, his right leg bent up, as I moved in and out, my fingers plucking at his tight nipples.
“God I love your cock in me as the rooster crows,” he gasped as I moved deeper, pulling his ass back to meet my thrust.
“Cock a doodle,” I grunted, getting a short, rough snort of amusement from him. I rocked and ground into him, moving him to his belly. He hoisted his ass into the air, my cock cooling just for a second before I was back inside him. Using his shoulders for leverage, I picked up the pace, the headboard slamming into the wall rapidly, his growls spurring me on. I came with a huff, my spine alight with white fire, my balls emptying into the condom.
“Yeah, come for me, baby,” Philip rasped as I shuddered wantonly, my fingers digging into his clavicle.
“Damn,” I panted, rolling my hips before easing out, dick still pulsing, to flip him over and devour his cock. Wanting to pleasure him as he had me last night, I suckled his balls, then his prick, and fingered his hole until he blew his load down my throat.
“Holy hell that was…” I lifted my head, spunk coating my lips, to give him an arched brow.
“Did you run out of words?” I asked, licking at the cum in the corners of my lips while he watched, his eyes molten.
“I think you emptied my word bank,” he joked, his smile brighter than the morning rays falling over my backside.
“Truly a miracle has occurred. Someone call Pastor Gabriel to verify this mystical glory,” I teased, sliding up over him.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a funny guy,” he play-grumbled, his pouty lower lip begging to be tasted. I stole a kiss and then another and then one more. Then Barnaby knocked thrice on the door.
“How does he know when you wake up?” Philip asked, sighing over my lips as I licked a wet path over his whiskery jaw. I loved the rasp of whiskers on my tongue. “Does he stand outside in the hall with his ear to the door?”
“I think he might have heard the headboard denting the plaster,” I replied with a wink, rolled to the side, disposed of the used condom, and pulled on a robe. Philip, always the exhibitionist, laid in bed with his dick out. I threw the covers over him and called for Barnaby to enter.
“Good morning, sirs,” Barnaby said as he entered the room, moving to the curtains to pull them shut. His tie was bright yellow today, the only bit of color he would wear, that and his pocket square, which was also safflower. “Madame would like to know if you will be eating in bed or downstairs?”
“Downstairs. Perhaps on the back veranda. The grapes are ready for harvesting and I have much work to do before that takes place tonight,” I said as I turned my back to Barnaby to wiggle into some pajama bottoms.
“I shall inform Madame of your wishes. Would you like me to fetch some lounge clothes from your room, Mr. Greco?” Barnaby asked as he moved around the room tidying things.
“Nah, I’m good. I got a pair of boxers lying around here somewhere,” Philip replied and kicked off the covers. Barnaby rolled his eyes to avoid being flashed, then exited with the trash can in hand. “You pick the grapes at night?”
“Yes, the sugar levels in the grapes are more stable at night.” I turned to enjoy the view of his sweet bubble ass while he paraded around the room. What a shame to cover all that muscle. He reached around to smack his own bottom, which made me yank my eyes from his ass. “Your backside is a work of art.”
“Me and that David statue,” he teased as he padded into the shower. I followed. If we were late to break our fast, it was his fault for showing off that tempting ass of his as if it were a rare rump roast.
An hour later, we finally arrived on the veranda, both fully dressed, his mother and grandmother already seated. They both looked well rested, enjoying the new day and the sunny rays kissing the vines. Sighing, I pulled out my sunglasses and slipped them on. No one commented. I wasn’t sure if Philip had told his mother and grandmother about my Stargardt’s or not, but I assumed he had. The man did like to talk and he held little back from his mother.
“Morning, Ma,” Philip said as he sat down rather tenderly. I had warned him that three times catching was too many, but you could tell the imp nothing. Now he would have to go to the first day of training camp with a sore ass. “Grandma, you look fourteen again. Must be the fresh air is doing you good.”
“Fourteen my fanny.” Grandma Rosie giggled and then sighed when I took her age-spotted hand and lifted it to my lips.
“Bonjour grand-mère, vous êtes vraiment magnifique par une si belle matinée,” I whispered, then paid his mother the same compliment. Both women fanned themselves with their hands, cheeks round and rosy.
“Had to out suave me, huh?” Philip asked as I sat down beside him, nodding at Madame, who stood beside Barnaby. She inclined her head and wheeled in a cart filled with pastries, fresh fruit, oatmeal, and fluffy omelets with a side of radish slices. Coffee was already on the table, so I poured some for myself and Philip after topping off the ladies.
“What can I say? We Frenchmen are simply dreamy,” I replied with a wink for my lover.
“Can’t argue with that,” he conceded and fell into a conversation with Madame as she removed the four plates from the cart and placed them in front of us. I smiled at the four of them chatting away about a 90s sitcom that I had yet to see. My time was coming, though. Philip had warned me just the other night. It seemed a person had not lived until they had viewed Fran marrying her Mr. Sheffield.
I dropped a cube into my coffee, fished it out, and then sucked on it as I studied the land surrounding my home. The fields were lush, the grapes heavy on the vines, and the wind off the lake was a subtle kiss on my cheeks. Barnaby stood behind me, a few feet away, silently supervising. Madame excused herself and wheeled the empty cart into the house. The vacuum upstairs came on and Bridgette’s rather lovely voice could be heard floating down through the open windows. I was unfamiliar with the pop song she was belting out, but I thought it might be that old Taylor Swift song “You Belong with Me,” a song even a man who disliked most popular music like me, knew and could hum along to.
“What are you and Grandma up to today?” Philip questioned his mother and made a face at me as I sliced some radish to enjoy with my eggs. I made the same face when he doused his omelet with ketchup.
“We’re taking the lunch cruise on the paddleboat and then we’re going to sample some ice cream at Ben & Jerry’s,” Mother Greco, as she had insisted I call her, filled in her son. I sat back as I chewed, the warm air tugging at the napkin on my lap and drank in the richness of such an everyday thing. Conversation over breakfast. Most usually it was me reading or doing work while I ate my meals. Now, it was constant chatter. And while it had taken me some time to adjust, I was now wondering how I would ever go back to being here alone.
“I want to do the wine tasting again,” Grandmother Rosie announced. I chuckled. She had been a regular at the tasting barn every day of her visit. The staff loved her as did the customers. “Then maybe go play bingo at the tabernacle.”
“Barney, can you take them where they need to go today?” Philip asked. “I would, but training camp opens this morning so I’ll be at the barn all day. And I’m guessing Henri will be busy all day with the grapes and stuff, yeah?”
