Nostalgia Ch. 02

As she looked down at the intense, yellow center, she sighed. The only reason she knew how to make them was because her grandmother used to email all sorts of recipes to her parents. Just because she couldn't spend Easter in Romania didn't mean she couldn't have some delicious Pască!

Grandma had liked to wear headscarves. Ana remembered a time when she watched the old woman's covered head bop around as she listened to music and tended to a pot of soup. Grandpa had came in a few moments later with a carton of ice cream.

They were nice people.

A sigh ...

Her father's request for punctuality turned out to be a wise thing. Those Dalcas arrived right on time. Kennedy helped everyone load their plates. Then, when everyone was seated and ready to eat, her father said he wanted to start a prayer.

Ana put her hands in her lap and waited, her eyes fixed on her food. She stopped praying years ago. She didn't think she had anyone to pray to.

Her curiosity was strong. As her father said solemn words, Ana quickly brought her eyes up to see if the guests were praying too.

Mihai's fingertips were touching as if we wanted to put his hands together but wasn't sure if that was a good idea. He was looking at his fingernails with an impatient yet calm expression.

Vlad ... wasn't even trying to pray. He was just like Ana, his hands in his lap, his face resentful.

Ana looked at her fingers, remembering how her grandparents used to make her pray. They weren't cruel about it, but they were very insistent.

The food stretched her belly in a pleasant way. It wasn't enough to calm her tingling nerves, though, because she felt Vlad Dalca's eyes all over her. She tried to let everyone else have their conversations, keeping quiet and out of everything.

But when dessert had to be served, there was no way out. All words were about her.

"Oh, it's very good! Did your grandparents teach you how to make it?" Vlad.

"Her mother could have taught her too." Mihai.

"A combination of the three, kind of." Dad.

"It's fluffier than I thought it would be. I wish I could make this. Last time I tried baking, I almost blew the kitchen up." Kennedy.

Blood was pooling in Ana's cheeks. She could feel it. "You're all sweet, but it's just dessert."

When everything was finished, Ana offered to stay behind and help Kennedy clean up.

"Don't worry, I can handle this," her stepmother said with a lively tone.

Ana kissed her cheek and went to her father. "Thanks for having me, Dad."

"It was good to see you, Ana." He patted her back. It was a loving feeling.

Since the Dalcas still remained, Ana said goodbye to them. Vlad seemed to look at her a few seconds more than normal, but there wasn't much to do about it.

Sorry, it wouldn't work out.

Ana sighed as she walked out the front door, feeling that ... that man's eyes on her like sunlight and dust.

She looked back.

He was facing a wall with a hanging picture, but he was looking at a certain angle ... one that pointed his green eyes right at her.

Ana closed the door.

***

Mountains in the distance.

Leaves on branches, only gently swaying with the wind.

A hard, grassy ground covered by a blanket.

Sunlight pouring everywhere.

Two horses were nearby, snorting, chewing, and peacefully existing.

But that was all she could distinctly see. Everything else was fuzzy and blended.

There was something above her, something she embraced, something that roared, something that made her feel so ... damn ...

Oh ... god ... it was between her thighs ...

It was like ... like when she masturbated with her fingers, but more ... so much more ... stretching her out and transforming the already blurred world into something that ... something that bled.

Please don't stop.

Please don't stop!

But Ana woke up.

Did she wet herself?

She sat up and rubbed her face. Then she switched a lamp on. Her eyes hurt for a few seconds.

She kicked her blanket away and looked at the mattress. Nothing. She looked down at her cotton covered mons. Maybe there was a little spot of wetness there? But she didn't smell any urine. Ana yanked her panties down and looked at herself.

Just clear mucus.

And ... funny enough ... under her black pubic hair, her labia were sensitive and puffy, and her clitoris was sticking out.

Not now, she needed to sleep. Maybe in the morning she'd rub one out.

***