Page 94 of La Dolce Vita

He took her hand and left the bikes on the road. Not once did he acknowledge the men waiting by the truck. Instead, he walked her over to the left side of the wagon and helped her climb up. He went around to the horse and stroked his nose. Mirabella heard the distant sound of thunder. She glanced up to the sky. Dark clouds were rolling in fast. A dewy wind washed over her. She could smell the promise of rain.

"We're riding in this thing?" she asked. "To where? It looks like it might rain."

Giovanni came around and climbed up and sat on the bench seat next to her. He picked up the reins to the horse and gave them a shake. She looked back to the men near the truck. One tipped his hat to her. Both men walked over to the side doors. They got behind the wheel and started the truck but didn’t follow. There were many hills along the road. But a night ride into the darkness with a storm approaching felt a little weird.

"Do you think it will rain?" she asked again.

"Possibly. A little rain won't hurt us will it?" he chuckled.

"After all these years of marriage, you still don't understand a black woman and her hair."

"Yes! I get the hair. Can't get it wet in the shower, forget about a swim, the hair must be in a scarf. I understand..."

"It's okay to break the hair rules if I'm prepared to fix my hair the next day. But I'm meeting the therapist tomorrow. Right? I don't want my hair to be a fuzzy ball of tangles."

"Enough with the complaining," he clucked his tongue and shook out the reins to the horses.

"Tell me a story," she said.

"What kind of story?" he looked over to her.

“It’s what you do, right, you’re Sicilian. You should have plenty of stories.”

"Ha! American's tell far more stories." Giovanni said.

"Nope. Not even close. When I first moved here I would hear a different story from Zia and you every other week. You had a story for everything. From the origin of rain to why the sun sets in the east."

“Va bene,what kind of story would you like to hear?” he asked.

"The history of Chianti. Make it romantic."

"Hmmm, I don't know the history of Chianti. I grew up in Sicily, remember?"

"Yes, I remember. But you spent plenty of time here in Italy. There must be a story you can tell me?" she pouted.

He tilted his head left as if thinking it over. "I can tell you about Roma," he said.

"Oh yes! Tell me about Rome," she said. She eased her hand over his chest. "And make it sexy!"

Giovanni laughed. He had one of those deep throat gusts of laughter that so few that knew him ever heard. Chuckles and smiles were seldom, but laughter was nearly absent. Except for his children and her.

"Go on, I'm listening," she said and eased her hand down to the silky hairs that curled up and out of the brim of his boxers. He cut her a sideways glance when her hand slipped into his boxers, and she touched his erection. She was growing increasingly more excited by the minute over this little night time country ride, but even more by the hard length of his man meat.

"Let's see. The story of Rome. It was founded April 21st, 753 BCE," he began.

She faked a deep yawn. She removed her hand from out of his zipper after she squeezed his dick. "Boring. I think I'll take a nap."

He chuckled. "May I finish, Bella? Put your hand back on my dick and I will make it interesting."

She smiled and eased her hand back into the front of his pants. She dropped her head on him and slowly stroked three fingers along the hard veined ridges of his erection.

"There is a legend of how Rome was built. A very important one."

"Okay?"

"Rome was founded by twins named Romulus and Remus. It was founded by Romulus, but that part of the story is for later."

"Twins?" Mirabella smiled.

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