Biscotti - 18. Chapter 18

That evening in bed, I couldn’t get enough of Brad nor he of me. The temptation to give in was so strong, but I couldn’t. I had our marriage and honeymoon planned, and it would be special for both of us. But there was one thing that Brad liked that I could do. As I moved down his torso with my kisses, he became more excited. He knew where this was leading. As I got nearer the part of Brad that made him male, I began to build up saliva. I was ready to deep throat that pole that was in my eyes as I approached the end of my journey.

Brad’s hands were on my head, pushing me faster toward my goal. I tried to resist him, but he was stronger, and soon I found myself looking at my goal. I licked the sensitive head, and then from that moment on, I was in control. I had to put my hand over his mouth to quiet his moan. He took the pillow and placed it over his face as he continued to moan into the pillow. I smiled and felt proud of what I was delivering to the man I love.

I swallowed everything he could give me. I felt him relax. He pulled me up and gave me a toe-curling kiss. I smuggled into this arms and drifted off to sleep.

The next day at Nonna’s and Pa’s, Brad was a celebrity thanks to Lou and Gene. Gene was busy talking about the game while Lou told them about ‘the power of biscotti.’ I could see that Nonna was proud, and Pa had to have a drink to toast the game and Brad. That meant a glass of wine for every one of the men. Brad was smiling, and he was happy. My younger cousins swarmed over Brad, asking him to play with them. He began to tickle them and tossing the younger ones in the air, and catching them. If it wasn’t evident to everyone, it was apparent to me. Brad was part of my family.

With our glass of wine, Pa and I went to the stone oven to prepare for the baking of the bread. As we sat there, drinking our wine and watching the fire, “Scott, when you and Brad go to Italy, I want you to convey some letters to Nonna’s and my families.”

“I’ll be glad to do that. It will be fun to meet our relatives that live in Italy.”

“Nonna has this broach. If you see a young girl that needs to be adopted, hold this for her. I think you will find her in the village, and her name will be Angelina like your Nonna’s.”

I thought that was strange, but Nonna and Pa had made predictions before that came true. “I’ll do it with pleasure. I’m looking forward to being in the village and meeting this young girl.” I’m not sure why but I believed we would meet a young girl and there will be three returning.

Pa left and came back with more wine for himself and me. Brad followed with the loaves of bread for the oven. As he put the bread into the oven, “He’s a good one.”

Once the bread was in the oven, Brad came and sat beside me. He put his arm around me, pulling me into his side. We sat like that, watching the oven and fire. Dad came up, and he and Pa went to inspect the garden. This seemed like old times, sitting next to the man I loved, Pa and Dad walking through the gardens making comments and suggestions. I could get used to this very quickly.

Brad said the coach told them that the football team had a good chance of ending in first place. He said it was the biscotti, but I knew better. The coach said that this team was the best he has had in the last ten years. He had championship written on his face, I was hoping as well.

The holidays were especially nice. It meant I had more time with Brad. I also spent more time on my math. When school resumed, I took the final math exam for the junior math, and I passed, to the delight of Dr. McDermis. Of course, I was rewarded with a stack of math books for the senior year.

My sophomore year was exactly like I thought it would be. Many students that were in my freshman class did not return—the reason why I had no idea, nor was I concerned enough to find out. The only students that matter were Brad and me.

School fell into a pattern, classes, tutoring, and spending time with the football team. Yes, the team, Brad, was never alone. He said they all hoped I had some biscotti.

As the sophomore year ended, Brad got into football. Coach began to hold his meetings, reviewing plays, videos of competitors, which resulted in critiques and suggestions, I thought I would not be able to spend much time with Brad this summer, and I was right.

The coach split the team into two teams, and they ran the plays from the tapes. One team would be the opponents, and one team would-be coache's. When Brad came home at night, he was tired. A hot shower, a rub down followed by a light dinner, and then bed.

All summer, they played the game until the coach was sure he could beat these teams. I made sure that he had his favorite foods to eat and to spend time with his parents. I was there as well.

This was one summer I didn’t enjoy. Brad was always tired, and he was being driven by the coach along with the entire squad. I decided to do something. I went to the Athletic Director, and I told him that the football coach, in his desire to win a championship, has been pushing the team so hard that they are tired and probably won’t perform as well as he hoped. They need a 3-4 week break where they can relax.

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“The coach called off practice for the next three weeks. He wants us to study the plays and get a lot of rest. I don’t know why he relaxed his program.”

I knew why and I wasn’t going to say anything, but I was glad he had a break.

School began, and as usual, Dr. McDermis had the senior math books ready for me. I saw his smile as he handed me the books. He was quite pleased with himself.

My junior year was relatively quiet. I continued my tutoring. Someone posted a sign on the door of my room, ‘teach’. The football team was off and running. To date, no losses. The coach was happy, the team was happy, and therefore I was happy. The biscotti helped, I think.

I worked out a deal with one of the water boys to carry a bag of biscotti with him for the away games. Brad told me as soon as the team discovered he had the biscotti, they surrounded him and asked for the bag. If he didn’t give it to them, they would have turned him upside down. The first chance Brad and I had to talk, we agreed not to send any more biscotti to away games, “We cannot have the boy hurt over biscotti.” Brad agreed.

With the help of the cousins, I was able to attend some of the away games. I think overall, I missed more than I attended, but I never missed a home game.

The football team ended the season with no losses, and they were in the playoffs. Their morale was high, and the coach went around with a big smile on his face. Unfortunately, they lost and ended up in the number two spot. The team was down, but the coach was up. This was much farther than his teams had come in the last ten years. He was excited they got this far and strongly believed they would win next year. Brad was a little upset, but I tried to boost his morale the only way I knew.

The holidays presented a welcome break. I spent as much time with Brad as I could. I worked at the supermarket, and Brad spent his time at the gym and his father’s company. We did have evenings to ourselves.

School started, and I turned in the test results for the first semester of senior math, which I passed. Dr. McDermis just gave me that weird smile. You know the one when a person knows something but doesn’t want to tell you.