Morgan
Chapter 34

Copyright© 2014 by AJ Martin

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 34 - My name's Blair, Blair James. This story is about how I met Morgan. She was twelve and I was just seventeen when we met the summer of 1930. The Depression was in full swing. Our life together spanned more than a century and I wouldn't have done it any other way. I could have, by the way. I really could have but I didn't and I'm the richer for it. And why I can say that is an integral part of my story.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   girl   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Slow  

Just before I'd begun the shift back to 1850 from the table in the diner, I told Morgan's parents to close their eyes. As soon as they did, we faded-in to the brand new kitchen in the Guest House, our temporary new home. Or at least that was my hope and Morgan's wishes that we would all live together there.

While I was checking to see if the coast was clear and alright to shift, aside from making sure the table was set up, I'd taken a few seconds and picked some flowers from the garden behind the house. Jim and Lilly had tended it since they'd arrived at One Pine.

The growing season had begun before he and Lilly had moved here. Survival often means growing a lot of your own vegetables. But moving after the beginning of the growing season didn't present a problem with a late planting for them.

They'd planted a garden in the spring around their old home. As they moved, they'd transplanted a lot from their old garden to the ones they'd fixed up around both Stanley's house and the Guest House.

It worked well for them as they got to move into the Manager's House when he was promoted from Stable Hand to Property Manager and Stanley and his family had moved into Dyersburg. Plus, because it was still early in the growing season they were able to add more plants to both gardens. Even after a month to six weeks, some of the plants were beginning to approach full bloom.

Jim and Lilly hadn't been asked to do it, they had just done it on their own. When I'd asked them about it, they'd said, "It was hardly any work. That way when someone moves in, it's our present to them."

"And if they don't," Jim had joked, "Well, there will be all the more for us to eat, can or preserve."

Luckily, they had also planted a variety of flowers and some were mature enough to make a small bouquet. I'd set it in a simple vase in the center of the table. By the time we'd arrived the sweet smells from the flowers had mixed with the fresh paint on the walls and ceilings along and aroma of the Wainscot paneling and the thick shellac coating on the kitchen table.

Before Morgan told her parents to open their eyes her mother commented, "It smells so nice and fresh here."

"Open your eyes mom and dad, we're here," said Morgan.

Her dad didn't say much as we all dropped hands. He just scanned the kitchen. That wasn't his domain although he did say, "Nice," then added, "Nice Stove."

Morgan's mom gasped, "Wow, this is beautiful. Everything is so fresh." Returning to the display in the center of the table, she added, "Thanks ... The flowers are so pretty."

"Welcome to One Pine," I told her. "I was hoping you would like the bouquet," I mentioned to her then added, "Mrs. Cristall." Showing a little shyness, I asked rather formally, "Ma'am, what may I call you?"

Morgan burst out, "Blair, I'm so sorry.

"I've been so rude. I was so happy to see mom and dad that I didn't introduce you."

Once more, I hugged her and petted her hair as I kissed the crown of her head. "It's alright Dear. I understand."

Morgan's mom, smiled and said, "Blair, I'd be pleased if you called me, Mary."

She held out hers, I offered mine and we shook hands. If we hadn't still been sitting at the table, I'm sure a hug would have been in order.

"Thank you ... Mary," I replied.

Morgan's father had a stern look cross over his face. I couldn't figure out exactly what it meant, displeasure or distrust. He was calm, but his look said something was up. I had a feeling he was not only unsure about me and also had reservations about being on a first name basis.

I let Mary's hand slip from mine and extended it to Morgan's father saying, "Welcome to One Pine ... Mister Cristall."

I was sure he wanted a more formal relationship between us. Mary and I were not so far apart in age as he and I were. I felt comfortable calling Morgan's mom, Mary and until we all got to know each other, especially the two of us, I didn't mind the formality I expected he'd want.

"My name's Edmund," he told me as he took his hand in mine.

It's interesting what you can find out from a person with a simple handshake. Although ours was anything but simple. Now, I stood at five-eight and weighed in at a whopping one-fifty. Not a 'Bean Pole' and positively not a 'Line Backer' either.

Like I mentioned, he was just a little under six feet but he had two inches in height on me and being nearly two-fifty, perhaps more, he towered over me. In a hug he would surround me like his hand was doing to mine.

His large hand swallowed mine. And he was strong. He gave me a firm handshake and he let me know his strength, He was letting me know that in a heartbeat he could crush me. No, it was a 'Real Firm' handshake.

I'd expected his show of dominance and met it head-on. Although, I didn't want to try to out-do-it but just meet him on his terms. When he took it up a notch, I acquiesced. 'Game over', I thought of our masculine competition.

Then he said in a voice as stern as his handshake, "But you can call me Sir!"

Life sometimes can feed you lemons. Sure you can squeeze them, add water and a ton of sugar, but unless you like lemonade, you're still out of luck. On the other hand, sometimes, cherries fall your way. You still have to watch out for the hardness in the middle and avoid the 'Pits' but most times, it's not too difficult.

Mary gave her husband a hard look and exclaimed, "Edmund Paul Cristall," rather loudly and then there was that lover's shoulder swat. "Behave yourself.

"This man is going to marry our daughter.

"Behave!"

I knew my next move was critical and would define our whole world. I could buy and sell the Cristalls many times over. But if I even hinted of the power I had that would only end in absolute disaster. Like the harmony with the color scheme of our home, I wanted the same harmony with Morgan's parents.

Edging toward the formal, I looked at Mary and said, "Ma'am. Actually, I think that's just fine.

"If you don't mind," I said to her and then shifting my gaze back to Edmund, I added, "and you too Mister Cristall, if you don't mind, 'Sir' is my preference."

He gave our handshake an additional pump and released me. He agreed succinctly, "Fine with me."

I'm sure Edmund had gotten as much from my hand as I had from his. His hands were not only strong as I'd mentioned but much more used to labor than mine. His had a rasp to the skin of his palm, which was only acquired from hard use. Not to the point of being weather beaten though. His hand felt almost like the topside of a dog's tongue that also revealed its underlying tenderness.

I'd tried to show him I had substance and was willing to meet a challenge. Yet, that I was also willing to show him respect. I figured with time, we would become closer, but that could only be attained with my showing I was deserving his respect.

After all, he was more than twice my age, plus a little. He'd experienced many hardships and walked with authority. Also being the father of the woman I loved and wanted to marry, his respect was warranted. I was sure there were many things we could learn from each other. I was the journeyman and he was the Master and I was a willing student with everything to gain from our association.

Morgan turned to her mom and said, "Isn't this place wonderful."

"I love this kitchen," was the reply. "I've never had a stove so grand. So many cabinets too."

My dad had suggested we were going to need dinnerware and a place to keep it all organized. He'd put in a little extravagance, a Breakfront, more than six feet wide. Glass doors above to show off the assortment of plates, cups and glasses he had selected for us and a series of drawers below where I expected to find an assortment of linens and larger serving pieces.

What was funny to me was how I could figure out who had made what decision. The breakfront was absolutely my father's idea. It showed the extravagance he needed and wanted. My mother had chosen the dinnerware. It hinted of elegance but was only so because of its simple design and light pastel colors.

Common everyday plates of the era were heavy stoneware that had either maroon or India blue scroll work and designs. What my mother had chosen was lightweight white china. It had a basket-weave pattern around the edges and a floral design in the center. Sparingly around the edge, superimposed over the basket-weave, were a few colorful butterflies. Elegant understatement.

Now when we had landed, I'd set us all so Mary and Edmund were facing the bulk of the kitchen. Their backs were to the wall where the breakfront had been placed. I'd thought my father had made a great choice.

Victorian furniture dominated the period and was usually a dark mahogany. This piece was an off white. Perhaps it had a little more gray in it than eggshell. Although, I was sure that choice had been interjected with my mother's influence.

Morgan's concentration had been on my and her parents. I guess you could say, she hadn't seen what was lining the wall just beyond her parents. Finally she gasped and as her jaw dropped and her mouth opened wide, so did her eyes. "Is that ours," she finally was able to say out loud, in more of a gasp than a question.

"It's from my parents," I told her. I turned toward her and gathered her up in my arms.

"Oh, I love it," she finally said.

I knew her parents hadn't seen the breakfront or its contents. They were in for a surprise. Sure they had seen the fresh new kitchen, but there were many surprises yet to come for them. What was hugging the wall behind them was only a small one, considering the biggie they would shortly hear.

After her rapid-fire machine gun kisses interspersed with, "I love it," she said to her very confused parents, "Look behind you."

Two, very opposite expressions of emotion were displayed. Morgan's mother gasped like her daughter had, realizing all that the furniture foretold. "Mom, come see this," Morgan said and quickly jumped off me and over to her, hand extended, inviting the two of them to take a closer look at the bounty.

When, Morgan added, "See, I told you he was rich," to Mary, I could tell, Edmund was, well, not completely pleased. He'd looked over at me and to soften what had been said, I offered, "I think it's a wedding present from my parents. I'm not rich ... They are."

OK, so I stretched the truth ... or maybe it was an outright lie. I was rich too, but the last thing I wanted to do was alienate Edmund. "Is that where all this came from?" he asked as he looked around the room.

Now, you know I like to make 'End Runs' all the time so I did one more when I answered, "My dad ordered it all for us." It was the truth in a way. He'd selected and ordered everything they could see.

 
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