It`s time for Tuesday Tales.
Today we have an excerpt from Reflections of Cypress, Love’s Journeys #2.
Please do bear in mind that these snippets are unedited so please be kind if you find any mistakes.
This story may have gay erotic scenes, strong social issues addressed and mature language. If those things offend now is the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales blog. Thanks for stopping by!
Being the son of a big business mogul you would think that I’d spent all kinds of time touring olive orchards, pressing hands with the workers, and all that corporate PR stuff.
But, if one knows me well, and few did, they would have known that Arlo Bonetti avoided Bonetti Olive Oil work as if it were a wilted penis. Still, here I was, being given the grand tour by an incredibly accommodating Signor Piravino, the senior manager of Bonetti Farms #20. Yep, twenty. We had twenty parcels here in Italy. Big parcels. None as big as good old #20 though as Signor Piravino had mentioned several times.
“We are most proud of twenty,” he gushed in choppy but understandable English as we strolled through olive groves filled with workers tending the organic trees with earth friendly means. “On this farm we have four hundred thousand trees on five hundred and eighty five hectares.”
I glanced back at Donvino, who was walking with us just behind – something that I wished he would stop doing but he seemed set on even though I had motioned him up several times – to ask if he knew what that meant in American terms.
“Ah, so sorry, Signor Bonetti,” Signor Piravino rushed to say before Donvino could reply. “That is roughly fourteen hundred acres. Come! Let us see the bees!”
He steered me past sweaty workers, through the never-ending lines of well cared for trees, to a massive square of probably a hundred bee hives. I glanced back at Donvino to see that he was having a discussion with one of the workers, a man about our age with long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail.
“Now these are another of your father’s marvelous inventions,” Signor Piravino said, the air filled with merry little bees flying to and fro from the white hives.
©Copyright V.L. Locey 2023