Summary:  Adam remembers a special moment of his youth.

Rated R  WC 2600

The Scent of Roses

The velvety darkness of midnight surrounded him as he rose from his bed. It had been oppressively hot both day and night for a week now. Adam Cartwright had been sleeping in brief, fitful naps and he blamed it on the unrelenting heat. He stood beside the open window, naked flesh hoping for the relief of a breeze.

He watched as the silver glow of the moon shown down on Hop Sing’s garden. Suddenly, the faint scent of roses floated through the open window.

With it came memories. Memories of the woman who taught him the pleasures of loving and the pain of first loss. He smiled. He had been so young, with the enthusiasm of a puppy and ready to tackle the world. She had taught him restraint and patience and the gift of giving. He inhaled deeply, savoring the scent and the memories…

The beauty of the sunrise was the same. The sun edging over the horizon, slowly pushing away the darkness. That was the same but the smells—it was the smell of the salt sea and of humanity bunched close together. That was the difference.

Standing on the furthest point on the wharf, nineteen year old Adam Cartwright raised a hand to shield his eyes from the first rays of dawn. He was used to being up early. And here in Boston, it gave him time to himself before he had breakfast with his grandfather and his daily classes started.

His thoughts always strayed toward home during these quiet times. He knew his family was still in the throes of their nightly dreams even as he walked the cobbled streets of a city on the verge of waking. In truth, he missed them terribly, but the lure of new places and people – not to mention a whole new world of learning – kept him from climbing onto the next train headed toward the Ponderosa.

Adam thrived at school and the more he was challenged by his professors, the more he reached within himself. He had a tendency to be a bit shy and reserved with his classmates, but time had sorted things out and he had developed a core of good friends. Tommy Duncan was counted as his best friend. So when he was asked to spend Christmas break with the Duncans, Adam was secretly grateful. Not that he would ever leave his grandfather alone on Christmas day but to be honest, as much as they loved and respected each other, there was just so much they could talk about.

Adam traveled to the Duncan residence two days before New Years. He knew Tommy’s family was well heeled and he expressed his fear of not having the proper attire to his friend. Tommy assured him that his father had worked hard for his money just as Adam’s father had and that they stood on little formality. Although Tommy’s assertion that they stood on little formality repeated itself in Adam’s mind, when he entered the three story foyer of the Duncan mansion, he had a hard time believing it.

The maid who answered the door tried to take Adam’s bag, but he saw no reason for a woman to carry a case he was more then capable of handling himself. She seemed flustered and stuttered out something about guests not carrying their own bags and getting into trouble. Fortunately for both of them, young master Duncan appeared on the staircase.

“Adam—welcome to our home.” His eyes took in the situation immediately and a grin covered his face. Descending the stairs, he said, “Here now—what are you trying to do to our Molly?”

Embarrassed that he had already seemed to have done something wrong, Adam tried to explain himself. “Where I come from, we’d never let a lady carry our bags for us.”

“And rightly so,” Tommy answered. “You can go now, Molly. I’ll take care of Mr. Cartwright.”

Tommy led Adam up the wide staircase and down the hall to his room. “There you go. You should have everything you need.”

“I thought you said things weren’t so formal in your house,” Adam said with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t.” Tommy left Adam to unpack. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Adam mumbled under his breath. “Sure, why should you worry? It’s your house.” Dressing in the new suit his grandfather had bought him for Christmas, Adam left his room and went down the stairs, finding himself once again, in the imposing foyer. A frown creased his brow as he looked first left than right.

“Are you lost?” A feminine voice seemed to float up from somewhere behind him.

Adam turned back to the stairs. His eyes widened at the sight of the dark creature that stood a few steps from the bottom. When he thought back to the first time he saw Francesca, it always drew a smile from him. She, in turn, must have seen an awkward teen who was so overwhelmed by her beauty that he could only stare.

A smile lit her heart-shaped face and caused her green eyes to sparkle. “Can you speak?”

Stumbling over his words, Adam replied, “Ahh—yes ma’am, I can speak.”

“Are you a friend of Thomas’?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am, we are at college together.” Adam wished he could say something clever, something that might interest this incredible woman, but he didn’t have the words.

“Please call me Francesca. Thomas’ father is my older brother.” She moved slowly down the rest of the stairs then reached out and took his arm. “Shall we look for Thomas together?”

***

Adam found himself sitting next to Francesca at dinner that evening. The Duncan family was intrigued by the young man from the wilds of Nevada. They encouraged him to tell them about his family and the Ponderosa and found themselves delighted with his stories.

The rest of Adam’s time with the Duncan family flew by. Tommy had been right; for all their wealth, his family stood on little formality and they had made Adam feel comfortable in their home. But he couldn’t help but feel a special pull toward one member of the family, Francesca. He learned that she was thirty-three and had been widowed at the age of twenty-four. Tommy told him that there were family whispers about his Aunt Francesca, something about entertaining young gentlemen but no one spoke of it out loud. She had made it clear that she would never marry again. Her Robert was the love of her life and she would have no other.

Adam had packed his case and was waiting for the carriage that would take him back to his grandfather’s home. Classes would start again on Monday and he wanted the weekend to get ahead on his reading. Francesca joined him in the main parlor. He stood up as she entered. “We’ll miss you here Adam. You bring youth and new life into out dull and ordinary lives.”

He worked up his courage than took her hand. “And I’ll miss you,” he said.

The words that reached for his heart were soft and alluring. “Do you suppose we could have lunch sometime when I’m in town?”

“I’d like that very much. I hope it won’t be too long.” They found themselves caught in time, each staring into the other’s eyes until Molly came to tell Adam his carriage was ready.

**********

The darkness of night was pierced by the brightness of a full moon. The white light streamed through the windows of Francesca’s bedroom. “Are you sure you want this Adam?” she asked.

Trying his best to hide his nervousness, he deepened his voice. “Yes, but my concern is for you. You know I’m— I have no experience with women. I may not be able to— to please you.”

“Oh my handsome young man, I think you need have no fear of that.” She sat on the edge of her bed and gestured for him to sit on the chaise near the corner. “Now tell me Adam, have you really no experience at all with young women? I can’t believe that some pretty girl has never caught your eye.”

It felt as if his face was on fire and Adam was glad for the semi darkness of the corner where he sat. “A few girls back home, kissing them and holding them but never—well I’ve never bred any of them, if that’s what you mean.”

Francesca’s brows rose and she hid a small laugh behind a cough. “When you are with a woman it is called making love.” Her words were gentle and held no hint of mockery. “We’ll leave the breeding to the animals.” She watched as her young suitor dropped his head. Francesca rose and went to him.

“You have no need to be embarrassed.” She placed a finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at her. “Remember this Adam: those who never try, never learn.” Francesca bent forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

Adam stood up. His hand smoothed back the dark hair, his long fingers framing her face. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. That first night when I saw you on the staircase, you took my breath away.”

She smiled at him. “Someday Adam Cartwright, there will be legions of women who will want you, and I’ll have the memory of being your first. Come to bed with me now.”

She took his hand and led him to the large four poster that took up most of the bedroom. Adam smelled the fragrance of roses then noticed a small bouquet by the bedside. “How can you have fresh roses at this time of year?” Adam asked.

Francesca picked up the vase and brought the deep red flowers close to her face. “A friend—he grows them all year round. He knows I love them and he frequently brings them to me.”

Adam felt a pang of jealousy hit him in the pit of his stomach. He knew he was being ridiculous, but the thought of another man near her, touching her brought feelings had never known before.

She saw a spark of anger burn briefly in the hooded eyes. “Let’s concentrate on tonight and us,” she said. Reaching up, Francesca let her hands take the measure of his broad shoulders. Obviously, this young man had led a life that included hard physical work. Suddenly she turned her back to him. “Will you help me with the buttons?”

His hands shook slightly but he managed to slide the tiny cloth-covered buttons through their openings. As the material parted, he saw the outline of her slim body through the sheer undergarments. Adam felt a stirring that caused his manhood to swell and push against the confines of his clothes.

As she turned around, Francesca allowed her dress to fall and pool in soft waves at her feet. She reached up and helped him out of his coat then slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Her small hands ran across the dark mat that covered his chest. She heard his sharp intake of breath. “It seems that artists only want to immortalize the female form,” she said. “The beauty of a young man’s body rivals any women’s.” She slid her arms under his shirt and around to his well muscled back to bring her breasts in contact with his chest.

His kiss was not gentle this time. Adam took her shoulders and pulled her body tightly against his own. A groan of desire escaped from deep within him. “God Francesca, I want you.”

Breaking away from him, she said, “Take off the rest of your clothes, my love.” Adam did as she asked. Suddenly, as nervous as he was, it didn’t seem to matter anymore. His body was driving him on, telling him what to do.

She watched as he removed the last piece of clothing and now it was her turn to gasp. She took in the well defined muscles from his broad shoulders to his long legs. The mat of dark hair thinned and ran down to a flat, taunt abdomen, culminating around his now erect organ. Her own body began to respond as she marveled at his length and breadth. Francesca took a deep breath to calm herself.

“It’s very hard for a young man to take his time when he first learns the art of loving a woman. Your body will betray you even if you will it not to. But like any thing you wish to do well, time will make you better at it.” She let the back of her hand lightly touch the length of him.

Adam couldn’t stop the deep moan that escaped through clenched teeth. His hands found the straps of her slip and camisole. He pulled them both down until her breasts were naked before him. Francesca took his face in her hands and guided him into a deep, lasting kiss. She backed away from him and let the last of her clothes fall away. He reached for her and brought her body to his own. His hands explored the exquisitely soft flesh that covered curves previously hidden from him. Francesca took his hand and led him into bed.

She knew that his first time would not allow for much instruction. Francesca smiled to herself. And that was as it should be. Let him know the rapture; she would teach him the beauty later.

Adam kissed her neck, feeling the pulsing rhythm of her heart. Continuing to touch and taste, he came to her breasts and hesitated. “Let your tongue caress them,” she told him, “then take them into your mouth and suckle them.” He did as she said. She arched her back, pressing herself further into his mouth. He sucked harder and her own cries joined his.

His moans became more frequent and she could feel his erection becoming even more rigid. Francesca knew that he would be unable to hold back much longer. She could feel the moisture at her own entrance as he continued to discover her body.

Adam felt his testicles begin to tighten. “Francesca—-.” He breathed her name again and again. He felt as if his body and mind were caught in some kind of whirlwind.

Francesca parted her legs and Adam knelt over her. She reached for him and guided him to her opening, whispering, “Take me now.” She arched her hips to meet him. He pushed the engorged head into her. Beyond reason now, he drove deeper into the silken passageway. His short grunts of pleasure turned into an elongated cry of ecstasy. His instincts took over as pushed harder and faster. Finally, with one last thrust, he spilled his seed within her. He shuddered as his continued to feel his muscles contracting. Suddenly exhausted, he lay next to her, burying his face in her hair.

***

There had been many trips to the little seaside cottage during Adam’s first year at college then suddenly he heard of Francesca’s abrupt departure for Europe. She left him to learn how it feels to lose someone for whom you care deeply. But she also had left him a great gift. She had taught him the art of pleasing a woman and for that he was endlessly grateful. The scent of roses hung heavy in the air.

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