Growing up with wealth and privilege isn't as bad or as hard as some would like you to believe, other than having a pretentious name like Mathew Charles Marston II. I never felt the need to play poor little rich kid. My mother came from a good family, married well, divorced my cheating father well, and then married again even better.
My step father was actually a nice enough guy. He was positively a genius at the stock market and other investments. He doted on my mother, giving in to her every whim. If anything, he was a tad mousy where she was involved. I never once saw him deny her anything or stand up to her in any way.
My parents were constantly coming and going. I grew up seeing my nanny more than I saw them. All in all, that was maybe not such a bad thing. We stayed on good terms with each other as there was little chance for conflicts.
I never went to school, not even a private one. My parents had a private tutor for me. I came to know when I was older it was out of a fear my mother had of my biological father stealing me away from her to some far off place where she would play hell getting me back.
My nanny Margarita was a lovely, kind woman. She not only looked after me but also taught me many of life's important lessons. She was a single mother of one daughter, Angelina. They lived together in a guest house we had behind the main house.
Angelina was the only real friend I had growing up. She was the only one who didn't call me Mathew. She mainly called me Matt, Mattie if she was teasing me, and every now and then she would call me Mateo. I liked the way it sounded when she used that name. I had acquaintances that I met through my parents but Angelina was my closest friend. Living a sheltered life tends to do that. My parents seemed fine with that in the privacy of our home, though I noticed early on that my mother acted differently when others were around or when we were in public.
Unlike me, Angelina went to public school and had many outside friends. None the less, the bond we formed was strong on both sides. Margarita treated me like a second child.
I suppose it should have come as no shock to anyone when Angelina and I developed romantic feelings for each other. It shouldn't have but did with my mother anyway. Like the saying says, there is no one blinder than he who won't see.
We made it through puberty unscathed. That was mainly due to the fact that I was somewhat naïve, most likely. Things began innocently enough, as they often do. Angelina grew into an extraordinarily attractive young lady. I had noticed, to be sure, on the occasions that mother gave the all clear and Angelina was allowed to use the swimming pool with me.
I loved to look at the curves of her body in a swim suit. Her long, wavy black hair tantalized me with the way it clung to her when it was wet. Her plump breasts, full hips, and round ass filled out her swim suit nicely. I know sometimes she would catch me looking at her; she would always turn her face away blushing.
Margarita had raised her to be modest but I still saw enough to know that Angelina was a knock out. I sometimes lay in bed at night and fantasized about what she looked like under her swim suit.
Mother never treated Margarita and Angelina poorly, not out right, but she never treated them as an equal either. Something my meager knowledge of social classes couldn't quite fathom, or how they were perceived here in Black Water Cove. My step father positively adored them.
It was one evening after watching a movie together that Angelina put me under her spell once and for all. She was gushing on about how romantic the movie was. The discussion turned to romantic kisses and how neither of us had ever kissed anyone.
After some talk and teasing we decided that it would be appropriate for us to try our first kiss together. After all, we were best friends. I looked at Angelina's full lips. I felt my stomach doing flip flops.
Angelina was blushing as she closed her eyes. We moved together and suddenly I felt her warm, soft lips pressing against my lips. I hadn't had any experience with kissing but I could imagine any kiss tasting as sweet. We tried kissing the way we had seen couple do it in movies. I think we did a fair job at it.
We pulled apart and I could see that Angelina was blushing even harder. There was something more though. Her face was flushed in a way I had never seen. I had to admit, my face felt pretty hot too. Angelina moved closer to me as we continued watching movies. My whole body felt like it was burning.
After that I was hooked. I was asking Angelina for kisses ever chance I had. She would giggle, bush, but seemed all too happy to comply. We took to holding hands often. Every now and then Angelina would tease me by asking if it meant that she was my girlfriend.
"Of course you are." I would answer with a smile. "If you want to be."
Angelina would reply by laughing, though it always struck me there was something sad in her laugh.
"Sweet Mateo, you know I can't be your girlfriend." Angelina would say. She had an accent that I had always found attractive. I discovered that it was a distinctly Latina accent.
"Why not?" I would ask. It always disturbed me when she would say things like that. The girl was a hottie. Any guy would love to have her for a girlfriend. I wanted to be that guy.
Angelina would look at me with her soulful dark eyes. She would give me a sweet smile and kiss me one more time. That always signaled the end of this particular conversation.
A couple of years went by. Angelina and I continued growing closer. Mother was now dragging me out to coming out parties for local debutantes, sometimes to socials at the country club. I hated them. I found them to be boring and the people to be plastic and fake. Mother was always happy to point out single daughter from "good families" Whom she said I should ask out.
For my part, I was still naïve in the ways of the social order. I had no idea that I was considered quite a good catch by these debutantes. My main interest was always to get home to see Angelina.
It was one evening while walking in the garden holding hands and kissing that we were discovered. Margarita had happened upon us while looking for Angelina. I was profoundly embarrassed to have been caught making out with Angelina by her own mother.
"Angelina, Mathew, what do you think you are doing!" Margarita said in a stern voice. It looked as though she were about to faint.
"Mamma!" Angelina jumped having been startled by her mother.
"Margarita, I'm sorry. We weren't doing anything but kissing a little. Don't be mad at Angelina, please." I stammered while blushing madly.
"Mathew, you should go to the house. It's getting late." Margarita said to me in a softer voice.
I stood for a moment looking at Angelina. I hated the thought of just walking away and leaving her. Angelina looked small and frightened. I had this tremendous urge to protect her.
"Go on Mathew." Margarita urged me.
"Ok." I finally said, feeling helpless. I wasn't happy about it and I hesitated for a moment to look at Angelina one last time.
I went back to my room and spent the rest of the evening brooding. Finally sleep claimed me but not before I had decided that I had to talk to Margarita and set things straight.
"Angelina, what in the name of the blessed mother where you thinking?" Margarita said to her daughter after I had left.
"We were just kissing, mamma."
"Look at who you were kissing. No good can come of it." Margarita said sternly.
"Mamma, I love him." Angelina confessed with a sob.
"Baby, you are my world, my little angel. I do not want to see you get hurt. Mathew is a fine young man, yes that is true, but his life has already been planned for him. It is a life that you and I don't belong in or could have any part in other than the part we are playing now." Margarita said gently but firmly.
"Mamma, I think Mateo loves me too. I think he wants me to be a part of his life." Angelina said with a note of defiance.
Margarita let out a deep sigh. "That may or may not be true right now Angelina but it would not be allowed by his parents."
"That isn't fair." Angelina said, quiet tears flowing down her face.
"Life is often unfair. I want you and Mathew to spend less time together. He needs to be in his world and you need to be in yours." Margarita told her daughter, once again using her gentler voice.
That night as I lay thinking and brooding over matters, Angelina was crying herself to sleep. The next day I was determined to do something about it. I had never before felt such a focused mind set. I would not be denied. I found Margarita working in the kitchen.
"Would you like some breakfast Mathew? Margarita asked me.
"No, I wish to speak with you." I replied.
Margarita looked at me for a moment, and then nodded her head. "Come Mathew." We walked outside to the gardening she where we would have some privacy.
"I don't wish to upset you but I want to let you know that I fully intend to keep seeing Angelina." I said with my new found determination.
"Mathew, you know that is not possible." Margarita said while shaking her head.
"I beg to differ. I think it is very possible if that is what Angelina and I wish. I realize that it is popular with my parents to still treat me as a child but I'm 17 now. So is Angelina. It's time for us to start thinking for ourselves. It's time for us to start planning our own lives." I said unwaveringly.
.... There is more of this story ...