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“You’re not nervous, are you, darling?” Angelina asked Tom, as he paced back and forth across her living room.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” replied her 22-year-old lover sarcastically. “I’m only meeting your family for the first time.”
“Relax. At the rate our relationship is going, you were going to have to meet them sometime. You might as well get it over with now.”
“Yeah, but I was hoping it would be later. You know…when I’ve gotten a little older.”
“Oh, stop it. You’re making too big of an issue about this age difference. Who cares if I’m old enough to be your mother?”
“Your family, to name an important few. They’ll probably care. Remind me again, who’s coming over for dinner?”
“My sister, brother-in-law, niece, and nephew…oh, and my mother.”
“Your mother’s got to be…what…75? She’s not going to understand why I’m here. Everyone else will wonder what’s wrong with me for dating someone who’s nearly 30 years older than me.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve already told my sister all about you. They won’t be taken by surprise. And if it troubles them, that’s their issue. They’ll just have to accept it. Besides, what’s important is us. Now, stop this nonsense. How do I look?”
Angelina slightly hiked up her knee level black skirt as she slowly spun 360 degrees on the matching black leather booted toe of her foot, before coming to rest on her 4-inch heels.
“Beautiful and sexy,” said Tom, his nervousness fading as he looked at his lover with pride and amazement.
“The eyeshadow?” she asked, closing her eyes.
“Deep as the night,” he whispered seductively into her ear.
“And the cherry lipstick?”
“I bet it glows…in the dark.”
“Mmmm, oh, darling, you do say the most divine things to boost a lady’s ego.”
“And hardly a motive in sight.”
“Ha. Merci,” replied Angelina. “You look magnifique, too.”
“Seems like everything you wear is sexy without being cheap and tawdry, if you know what I mean?”
“That’s the idea, my dear. “I’ve never believed that a woman needs to dress like a $2 whore in order to attract a man. One can still look elegant and classy and yet totally feminine and desirable without resorting to such lower class lengths. The only time to act like a $2 whore is in the bedroom.”
Tom gulped hard. From their experience together, he knew Angelina was right.
“Kind of remarkable, you can pull off that look considering the hangover you woke up with this morning.”
“Oh, don’t remind me. Taking that flask along to the game was a bad idea. The last thing I remember was giving you a blowjob in the car and wanting to get home fast so we could make love. Then, the next thing I knew I woke up in my bed, cuddled in your big, strong arms with the wonderful sensation of feeling your penis deep inside me. What a delightfully arousing way to start one’s day.”
Angelina smiled at the memory and sexily sauntered up to Tom. Wrapping her arms around his waist the two proceeded to kiss on the lips, enjoying an embrace that they last shared an hour earlier upon the conclusion of their second love making session of the day.
Buzzzzzz
The ringing of Angelina’s front door bell suddenly pierced the passion.
“That’s them, I’ll get it,” said Angelina, unlocking her lips from Tom’s before wiping away lipstick from his cheek with her hand.
Angelina went to answer the door. Meanwhile, Tom turned his back to it and frantically pressed his hands against his groin to tamp the ill-timed erection that had begun to form beneath his pants while he and his 51-year-old lover were kissing.
“Hello, everybody!” greeted Angelina, after opening the door. “Entrée. Entrée.”
Angelina’s family filed into the house and stopped in their tracks at the foyer.
“I want you all to meet my charming new friend Thomas,” announced Angelina. “Thomas, this is my sister Elaine, brother-in-law Rocco, niece Lisa, nephew Anthony and last but not least my mother Maria.”
Angelina’s family stood silently, as Tom gave a timid, almost childlike wave with one hand, as he tried to discreetly cover his woody with the other hand.
“Well, come in and sit down,” said Angelina, motioning her family toward the living room. “The lasagna still has about a half hour left to cook, so there’s plenty of time for everyone to get acquainted.”
Angelina and Tom sat next to each other on the love seat, while her family formed a semi-circle around them on the remaining furniture. The tension in the room was palpable as Tom watched five sets of eyes size him up in icy silence.
“So, Thomas, Angelina tells us you used to be a student of hers at Riverdale?” asked Elaine two minutes later.
“Yes, the…the…that’s true” replied Tom, his voice cracking and stuttering from nervousness. “I graduated from there in ’79.”
Angelina rested her hand on Tom’s knee to help steady her lover’s fraying nerves.
“That would make you 22 now?” asked Lisa skeptically.
“That’s right,” answered Tom. “I graduated from college a few months ago.”
“You could be Aunt muğla escort Angelina’s son, age wise,” said the 23-year-old Lisa in a condescending tone.
“Lisa!” snapped Elaine, before turning back to Tom and calmly addressing him again. “And you two reconnected, so to speak, at school last week?”
“Yes. I was visiting Riverdale on Friday and dropped in to the library. Angelina and I got to talking, I asked her out to dinner that night and…well…we’ve been together ever since, you might say.”
“What do you do for a living, Thomas?” asked Elaine.
“I work as an editor for Smith and Bradley Publishing in the city,” he replied.
“Thomas also wants to be a writer,” said Angelina, nodding her approval at him, while hooking her arms around his left one. “Somehow, he must have known that I’ve always had a weakness for men of literature.”
And men who can breath, Rocco said to himself.
“Do you live in the city?” asked Elaine.
“No, I live in an apartment in Hoboken with two roommates,” answered Tom.
The sound of crickets could practically be heard in the silent living room, as Angelina’s family turned over the scenario where Tom would introduce Angelina as his girlfriend to his college-age roommates.
“Elaine and Lisa, would you care to give me some help in the kitchen?” asked Angelina 30 painful seconds later, breaking the lull in the conversation. “Mamma, why don’t you watch TV in my bedroom, OK? The men can watch TV here. Would any of you like a pre-dinner cocktail?”
“I’ll have a beer,” said Rocco, in a thick northern New Jersey accent.
“Make it two,” replied 21-year-old Tony.
“Thomas, darling, how about a martini?” asked Angelina.
“Yes. Thank you,” he answered. “Let me help you with that.”
“No, sit. We’ve got it,” his lover said. “You three turn on a ball game and get to know each other better.”
Angelina and her sister and niece entered the kitchen. Her mother retired to the upstairs bedroom to no doubt work over her rosary beads and pray for Angelina’s soul, while the men stayed put with Rocco switching on the TV and flipping through the channels until he found a New York Knicks pre-season basketball game.
“Well, what do you think?” Angelina excitedly asked Elaine and Lisa, like a teenage girl gushing about her first boyfriend in the girls’ locker room. “Isn’t he gorgeous? I know it’s been only four days, but things are going so well between us.”
“He seems nice, Angelina, but we still don’t know much about him,” Elaine answered cautiously. “And really, after only four days, you can’t know much about him either. I wish you would take it slow for once. Your relationships always seem to go from zero to 60 in two days. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“It’s too late to take it slow.”
“So, you two have been…uh…intimate?”
“Every chance we get,” said Angelina with a smile, hopping up onto her kitchen counter and crossing her black leather, knee-high, high-heeled boots. “He’s so insatiable. We both are. We’re practically living on love.
“I still can’t believe that a 22-year-old hunk like him would be romantically interested in a woman my age. It’s almost too good to be true. He could have any woman and he wants to be with me: 51-year-old Angelina Lione. I feel sort of like a horny Cinderella when I’m around him. I just want to make love to Thomas as much as possible, before this dream ends and he turns into a pumpkin or worse, one of the many loser boyfriends I’ve dated.”
Eager to go into detail about her new lover, Angelina pressed on, oblivious to her increasingly uncomfortable audience.
“Now that you mention it, he’s very young,” said Elaine. “May-December romance.”
“That’s what so great him. He’s a young stud so his stamina is off the charts,” Angelina continued. “Sometimes, I can’t keep up with him. There have been times, in fact, when Thomas’s driven me so wild with passion that I’ve actually fainted while making love. He’s that good. But he’s not so experienced that I haven’t taught him a thing or two about love making. It’s funny, Thomas is not even particularly big, if you know what I mean. But he’s fearless. He’ll do anything.
“But it’s more than sex. It’s not just physical — even though the physical part is out of this world good, let me tell you. We can carry on conversations because we have the same literary and art interests. Thomas treats me so lovingly. For someone so young, he really knows how to treat a woman. He’s so gentlemanly. Thomas is an old man in a young man’s virile body. He’s so attentive to my needs. He kisses my hand, insists on opening doors for me and he even lights every one of my cigarettes — without me asking first. I think I’ve been smoking a little more since I met him because I love having him light me. It’s so erotic. Thomas reminds me of a younger version of Harry.”
“Well, at least Thomas isn’t married, unlike Harry,” said a judgmental sounding Elaine. “At least, not that you know of.”
“Why bring that up again, Elaine? Harry and I’s relationship ended three years ago. muş escort We don’t need to revisit it.”
“You brought him up, Angelina. I was just saying…”
“Well, don’t. I was merely pointing out that I haven’t been treated as much like a lady or been aroused as much by a man since Harry and I broke up.”
“I don’t know, Aunt Angelina,” confessed Lisa, who oftentimes sought out her single, sexually experienced and oftentimes promiscuous aunt’s advice on boyfriends and fashion. “He’s only a year older than Tony and a year younger than me. Thomas looks like someone that I could be dating.”
“He’s mine,” said a suddenly defensive Angelina. “I saw him first.”
“Relax. I didn’t mean that I would date him. It’s just that he’s so close to my age.”
“I’m sorry,” said Angelina. “I’ve been with enough men to know a real catch when I see one and Thomas’s a real catch. Apparently, he’s loved me since he was 13 and he waited until he was finally old enough to act on it. That says a lot about him as a man. I think he’s the one.”
“As in the one to marry?” asked Elaine. “Maybe he wanted to have sex with you at age 13, but how do you know it’s anything more than that?”
“Apparently, his feelings were deeper than a mere crush,” said her lovestruck sister. “He’s handsome, intelligent, incredibly sexy and totally devoted to me. If he asked me right now to marry him I’d say yes — right after he revived me after fainting.”
“At least try to keep from feeling him up while we’re here. I don’t think mama can handle that.”
Meanwhile, in the living room…
“Hey, go next door and get me my glasses, would ya?” asked Rocco of his son. “I can’t see the TV without ’em.”
“Oh, c’mon, I’m comfortable here,” whined Tony.
“Go, like I asked ya.”
Tony rose from the couch with a snort and shuffled out of the house.
“So,” said Rocco, turning his attention to Tom, once his son was safely out of ear shot. “You’re Ang’s new boyfriend, huh?”
“Well, I don’t know about boyfriend,” answered Tom. “We’ve only been out to eat a couple times and to the Giants game yesterday. We’re more like dating, I guess.”
“What’s the difference? Never mind. I’d watch it if I was you.”
“Sorry?”
“Ang has been around the block a bit, if ya know what I mean.”
“She’s been with a lot of men?”
“When she was younger. Maybe now that she’s past 50, ya don’t have to worry, but in her prime she was a real maneater, if ya catch my drift.”
“How so?”
“Back in the disco days she dated different guys every night.”
“Oh, she told me that already.”
“Did she also tell ya she drove most of them away because she came on too strong too fast?”
“No.”
“Well, think about it. She’s obviously a looker — even now at her age. When she was younger she was even sexier looking. She could get any man she wanted. That was never a problem. But then she’d sleep wit ’em on the first date and then wonder why they never called her again. She was too promis…promisc…what’s that word?”
“Promiscuous?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Really, that’s the only reason that a woman who looks as hot as she does didn’t get married. But she could never figure that out. So watch it. Knowing Ang, I’m sure you’ve already done the horizontal mambo a bunch of times wit her, so be prepared. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was talking wedding right now in the kitchen with the girls. Anyway, how was the game? I woulda given my left nut to see that game in person.”
“We had a great time.”
“Musta been exhausting.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Ang couldn’t even walk to the door when you brought her home.”
A chill ran up Tom’s spine. Rocco had seen him carry the unconscious Angelina into her house the night before.
“Yeah…ummm… Angelina brought a flask of brandy to keep her warm at the game and she overdid it a bit and passed out on the ride home. So, I carried her in and put her to bed.”
“Probably not much of a fun date she was last night, I bet.”
Tom shrugged his shoulders in agreement, yet knowing full well that Angelina most definitely was a fun date that night.
“I tell ya,” Rocco continued, “you’re lucky Ang told Elaine about the two of yous yesterday morning. If she hadn’t, I’d a mistaken ya for some strange guy who picked her up in a bar and slipped her a Mickey. I woulda had to come over and kick your ass.”
“That is lucky,” said Tom with a shudder. “Does Angelina go to bars often?”
“No. That was just an example. She used to. Back in the ’70s she went to discos a lot. Now? Not so much.
Rocco paused and leaned his beefy, 240-lb. frame across the table toward Tom.
“Can I give ya a word of advice, buddy?” Rocco whispered. “Treat her right. We don’t always get along so well, Ang and me. Sometimes, we butt heads about her phony baloney attitude.”
“How so?”
“Well, she can’t smoke a cigarette like a normal person. She’s gotta use one of those fancy, shmancy, preten…preten…ah, help me out, what’s that word?”
“Pretentious?”
“Yeah, nevşehir escort that’s it. Pretentious. Pretentious cigarette holders, like she’s some kind of high society dame from the ’40s or something. Give me a break. Ang can be kind of a stuck up, bitch.”
“How so?”
“She thinks she’s hot shit — always looking at herself in the mirror to check her makeup, hair and outfit — smoking from that cigarette holder, wearing expensive designer boots, calling people by their formal names all the time. Do you really go by ‘Thomas?'”
“Tom, actually. Actually, she just started calling me that today when you came over.”
“See what I mean? Don’t get me wrong, Ang has some great qualities. She’s always been a great aunt to Lisa and Tony. When they were younger she used to take ’em into the city to see Broadway plays and to the Met for operas. Teaching ’em about culture and crap like that. But from time to time she needs to be knocked down a peg and reminded that even though she’s got expensive Park Ave. tastes, her roots are in working class Passaic. Ya know what I mean? She’s a Jersey girl, not some sophisticated Manhattan broad.
“But whatever. The point is, she’s still family and as the man of the family, I look after her, so you better treat her right. Ang hasn’t always had the best judgment when it comes to men. She’s gotten involved with some guys she shouldn’t have gotten involved with. The worst example was the last guy she was with.”
“Harry Seymour?”
“Yeah, that’s the little creep. Married guy from school. She went nuts over him and he basically only used her for sex. Strung her along for years telling her he was gonna leave his wife and marry her and Ang believed him; broke her heart in the end.
“You’re the first guy since him that she’s thought enough of to introduce to the family.
“She says you’re in a relationship, you say you’re dating. Hey, what yous two do together in private and how ya explain your relationship to the world ain’t none of my business. But ya need to get your stories straight because judging from history, she’s probably fitting you for a wedding tux. She told Elaine she’s nuts about you.”
“Oh, I’m nuts about her, too. I don’t care that she’s so much older than me.”
“Good. To me, I don’t think it’s so crazy for a 22 year old guy to be romantic with someone who’s almost 30 years older. Hey, Ang is a very attractive and sexy woman for a broad her age. She knows how to dress, uses the right amount of makeup without looking like a tramp and has a great bod — maybe because she never had kids. Anyway, my point is, I don’t know what your intentions are with her, but if you’re just using her for a good time, like that last guy, you and me are gonna have problems. And trust me, ya don’t want to have problems wit me. Treat her right. Capeche?”
“I’ll treat her right. I promise. Angelina’s very special.”
Angelina proceeded to walk into the living room from the kitchen carrying a tray of drinks.
“Where’s Anthony?” she asked, first handing a martini to Tom and then a beer to Rocco.
“He went to get my glasses,” answered Angelina’s brother-in-law.
Angelina set the tray down on the coffee table, sat on the right armrest of Tom’s chair, draped her arm around his left shoulder and crossed her black leather high heeled booted legs.
“You two having a good talk?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah,” replied Tom. “It’s been very enlightening.”
Angelina reached down to the table and picked up her long black cigarette holder and pressed a button on her cigarette box. The box opened and with her free right hand she took out a long, thin white cigarette and proceeded to screw it into her holder.
Tom went to retrieve Angelina’s silver lighter from the table to light his lover’s cigarette holder, but Rocco, who was about to spark up a fat cigar, beat him to the punch.
“Mmmm…” mumbled Rocco, with the cigar in his mouth, as he flicked his cheap lighter and held it out to Angelina to get her attention.
Angelina put the black end of the long holder two inches into her mouth and leaned in toward Rocco, let the flame touch the cigarette, took a shallow pull and slid the holder out.
It was the first cigarette that another man had lit for his lover since the waiter at Rotini’s. And even though Angelina was being lit innocently enough by her brother-in-law, who only happened to be lighting his own stogie at the time, Tom couldn’t help drinking the scene in and feel jealous.
To Tom’s fetish way of thinking, the act of a man lighting a woman’s cigarette carried with it a sexual connotation and triggered a Pavlovian, involuntary response in his loins. For even though steamy, passionate sex hadn’t occurred in every instance between them that long weekend right after he’d lit one of Angelina’s cigarettes in a holder, it had happened enough. Tom couldn’t help but feel both aroused and a little jealous, irrationally imagining for an instant Angelina suddenly becoming so sexually attracted to Rocco for lighting her that she proceeded to fuck him right there on the coffee table. Instead, Angelina’s response to her brother-in-law’s benign, polite gesture couldn’t have been less physical. Apparently, as Tom smiled knowingly to himself, the act of having her cigarette lit, stimulated Tom more than it did Angelina.
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