She rolled her eyes. “You know it was you.”
I winked at her. “Oh yeah, that’s right. Do you remember what I told you that day we cut school and snuck into my grandmother’s house?”
“Making tea is an art.”
“No, I said makingpropertea is an art.”
“Yeah. I also remember drinking that great tea and spilling it all over me, due to your grandmother rushing in on us with a belt in her hand and spinning it around like a tornado. I still have bruises on my ankle that never healed.”
“Well, we shouldn’t have been cutting school.”
She laughed. “True. And those were the old days.”
“Yes, when everyone whipped all the kids.” I grabbed an elegant teapot made of silver with vines and flowers engraved at the top. I set it on the counter and then grabbed a kettle. “If someone found a child cutting school, they’d whip them and then take them to the school, and the principal would whip them. Then their Dad or Mom would have to get off early from work, and once they got the kid home, it was another whipping. Even the grandparents would come over that night and whip their behinds.”
“Lots of pain for one kid. Now all the abused kids are adults. No wonder this world is crazy.”
“There were some traditional ideas to the whippings.”
“Yes, but would you let anyone whip your boys now?” she asked.
I filled the pot with water and put it on the stove. “Hell no. I have a look that keeps them in shape. I haven’t used my hand yet, but they’re too scared to even push me pastthe look.”
“Yeah, I perfected that look and I wouldn’t let anyone touch my girls.”
“Brett doesn’t whip your girls either?”
“No and I don’t want to talk about him either.”
I nodded. “I guess it’s back to the art of proper tea.” I sighed. “You never use boiling water to brew your tea. It deadens the flavor.”
“I remember.”
“You have to catch it just before it boils.”
“I remember.”
“Mom would take her tea to the point where she would check the temperature. She didn’t play. 80C for green and herbal teas and 85C for black.”
“This is a bit much. I just drink it when it’s hot.”
“You’ve always been impatient, when it came to pleasure.” I didn’t even turn her way when I said that. This was no time to bring it back to sex, but she was naked and I was still a man.
How could I not think about her body on mine?
Keep her talking. Keep her relaxed.
“Do you remember that Chinese saying about tea that I would always say?” I asked.
“Yes, you were the biggest nerd I’d ever met. Most of the boys were talking about my tits and you were reciting ancient quotes on tea.”
“I wasn’t a nerd. I just had rules. One of them was that life was too short for crappy tea.”
“Mama’s boy.”
“Stop distracting me as I drop knowledge and impress you.”
“Oh, sorry. Go right ahead.”