Mother And Child free porn video

My breathing finally slowed to the point where I could talk again. I had been huffing, like a lion right after a kill, I was so wound up, my mouth wide open and working hard on getting enough air. I had just had an orgasm that was a mind-bender and it took me several minutes to slow down enough to say, "I think that was the best thing that's ever happened to me. I love you beyond words. I write about sex, erotica that I publish but I do not have words for this."

She was on her stomach and I was on top whispering to her, buried in her and pushing into a very sensitive spot, her G-Spot, and she was convulsing as she came. Clenching me so hard with her pussy it hurt in a marvelous way. She'd squeeze me so tight it felt like a fist and rock her hips forward then relax slightly and rock back burying me in her again and hitting that spot . Then clenching again and doing the same thing, over and over.

She did that for a minute before she started to slow and it took another minute or two for her to stop. We lay there with me supporting my upper body on my elbows but my cock as far in as I could get it. I'm not "Big" but it seems adequate for her. This was our first time and it had worked better than anything I had felt since Paige gave up on sex twelve years ago.

She moaned and squeezed me. I could feel her butt tighten and relax and wondered if she liked anal that well. God, I hoped so. Not a requirement, Paige had never liked it, but it would be nice if she did. I knew she liked oral, she had almost sucked the head off my dick earlier on the sofa. She liked using her hands too and that was a favorite of mine.

I was also hoping that she liked oral from me. I wanted to sixty-nine with her for a few day, or until we needed a bathroom or food. I didn't get hungry any more and she's kept me fed and healthy. She has a soft way of beating me up until I acquiesced and did what she wanted.

I called it "Gentling", a term and method I learned 50 years ago when I spent a lot of time with horses. "Breaking" them is exactly that and you can kill the horses spirit. Gentling builds trust and the horse will jump straight into hell if asked. I found this to work with people too and my life has always been pretty good. Few enemies and I got what I wanted many more times by being that way.

I rolled to the side taking her with me and snuggled, spooning into her and she pulled herself off my cock then reached back and spread her butt cheeks and put my half-hard cock in the crack against her ass. "Okay, she likes anal," were my thoughts and I smiled as she squeezed me and nestled into me.

I couldn't believe this. She had been my housekeeper for three months and tonight told me who she was. I am still in a state of shock over that. I don't know what I'm going to do but letting her get away from my eyesight again is just not gong to happen.

Shit, "I'll have my eyelids removed so I can always see her," were some really dumb thoughts I had. I lost her once, two years down the tubes and that thought pissed me off. That will not happen again! If I could figure a way to slaughter bureaucracy for the time they cost us, I would do it in a second.

"Musing? That's what I'm doing. I liked that word, it was a fifty cent word.

I enjoyed just free-floating in my mind. When I wrote I would lay and start to build an image. Maybe a picture or a glimpse of something. Maybe a thought, a sound or a book, anything that catches my attention. Then I add or remove things until I have something I like. Could be anywhere or anyone or anything, but it had to be what I wanted.

Then I would try to move in the scene. Describe it and decide if that was right. Right being what the character I had built would do if he or she (it's quite hard writing women's thoughts) were real. The guy was always me. He did what I would do because they were My Stories and I could be what I was. I didn't have to pretend.

I played the parts (I am an actor) and could work out most stories so the action didn't read stupid. For a couple months I had a "girlfriend?", Donna, a woman that needed what I did, someone to just be with. We did that for six months until we both healed and then moved on.

She had helped and played the female part several times and, yes, the sex was great. She was great. She would suck so hard when I came that it literally felt like I was spewing fire into her mouth. She never complained though.

We didn't "Click?" I don't know, but we both just kissed goodbye and went on. Last I heard she was married and happy. I'm happy for her and, yeah, I still love her.

The women in my stories were always strong, independent women that were, "capable of standing toe to toe with god in a screaming go to hell fight, and not back down." Not dominant, strong and capable of standing up or stepping aside to make the right decision. A partner. That's what I helped Donna become.

Then the scene moves. What would they do? If I did or said this what's her reaction? Some women do not like certain things, slapping her face with your cock can really piss some off. I have to try to think what a woman would think. Thank god for female erotica authors. Thank all of you goddesses I read trying to " get it right." I'm still not sure I do.

She had seen my stuff, read all my stories and posts I made on a site I used, Lushstories. Wonderful people, a family I could be with and love like I had when I did theatre. My fusion killed that for years and now I probably couldn't memorize the script. I'll do it again though.

I knew an eighty-five year old woman that had trouble remembering her name (not really) and we spent hours talking during one production. I was forty-six and I loved that lady. She just had fun and didn't worry about "the small shit", as she would say. I learned a lot from her and some times think about her so she still lives.

How did I get here, this time, this place, with this woman? And I went back almost two and a half years.

"Musing."

***********************

It had been almost four years and I was getting used to being alone. I traveled a lot in an old eighty-four VW Vanagon, a camper, that had everything I needed within arms reach. Not really but it's not far to get it. I modified it, insulated, curtains and I had a gas heater. I carried four huge truck batteries too and I could survive a week, cooking and lights, internet, using just them. I wrote a lot in some very remote areas.

Paige and I had put close to two-hundred thousand mikes on it, traveling and screwing ourselves back and forth across the country. We have fucked in some marvelous places. The best was a waterfall that we found.

In the van at the base, the water falling eighty feet and hammering the base pounded our bodies with pressure waves that we finally synced our movement to and seemed to dissolve us when we both came. One of those rarities, simultaneous and if I had died then I would have been okay with it. I don't think I'll ever feel better.

I was just daydreaming, casual memories and thoughts as I drove through this storm. "It's a fucking blizzard and if I don't find someplace soon I'm going to get stuck and freeze to death," I thought. It is cold and my thermometer showed an outside temperature of minus ten on the "F" scale. Right now that's the Fuck-Me scale unless I can find a place to stop. A parking lot would do, I didn't want to get hit by a plow. I'm rather cautious at times.

My mind kind of drifted thinking, "Wow, I've had this van for twenty-five years. Rebuilt that engine twice myself too," and was remembering Paige and I traveling and screwing our brains out in it when I almost turned it over because I wasn't paying attention. "I will die if I don't stop that," I thought and my attention focused on the problem at hand, living and not dying.

I had been traveling since Paige died. I took care of her until her dementia got to where she didn't know me and then found a place close to our kids and put her there. Then I tried, unsuccessfully obviously, to kill myself.

No, not anything like what you think, I tried with very expensive scotch and pot. A LOT of scotch and pot. I had seen the Nicolas Cage movie about him drinking himself to death and he seemed happy, so, why not?

It took my kids almost a year to figure it out then twenty-seven of them beat the crap out of me in an intervention. They even flew my thirty five year old grand daughter from Scotland to be there. Every fucking one of those ungrateful little bastards threatened me with an incompetency hearing and a home (not the one Paige was in) if I didn't stop. I stopped!

And I loved them more. I was loved by a lot of people and the thought of disappointing them made me do it.

I was getting back on my feet again six months later when Paige died. That time I hurled myself off that fucking cliff again. Heaved, threw, flung, pitched, anything to end it immediately. An Olympic jump a swan dive, chest first and seeing those fucking rocks I would slam into and splatter myself all over, ending all those thoughts and emotions that constantly tore at me.

I wanted to hit bottom so hard they would need a sponge to pick me up. I guess I was hoping for alcohol poisoning or something when I bought two cases of scotch.

None of my kids are what I would call dumb and figured it out quickly. They found me in my back yard Christmas Day screaming. I was ranting and railing against the whole world, breaking anything I could find, waving an empty scotch bottle like a club and screaming at God, "Come on you chicken-shit bastard. Kill my wife will you, fight me you motherfucker, I'll kill you!" Thankfully I don't remember any of that but all that were there swear to it.

The cops called them and they saved my life, again. They said the cops were there and waited for them because they knew about it, me. I donated a lot of money to them for their charities. Threw a party or two also. I still talk to one and she said people had been around asking about us but no one would admit to knowing anything.

***********************

It was March then, the fifteenth, twenty-thirteen, how prophetic, the Ides of March, the day Julius Caesar was assassinated and the world changed. "Idus Martie," or something, a religious holiday for the Romans, and for me too it turned out.

I had been visiting Grande Island, New York, because I lived there as a kid for ten years. I intended to drive to Warren, Pennsylvania to visit my cousin Mona and at Dunkirk on US 90 took a smaller state road, NY 60, to save some time. Yeah, right, and if I had been listening to the radio I would have known about the fricking blizzard.

I was over half-way to Jamestown when it hit me. A wall of white and wind that almost blew me off the road. I even had a chuckle at that while I was sliding all over the road trying very hard not to die. The Brits use that expression but it's a "Fart." I study words and slang, I write stories. Mostly erotica that some like and I publish them.

When I finally came to a stop I was cross-ways to traffic if there had been any. I got straightened and went on, hurrying a little more slowly to get there.

Forty-five minutes later I was axel deep in snow at places and plowing it with my front bumper. I was making an astounding eight Miles an hour when I saw the lump. The snow thinned or I would never have seen it. It was just a dark hump, mostly covered with snow but what looked like a leg was sticking out. I came to a quick stop, sliding and spinning and this time I thought I'd, "Blown one off," or worse.

I was thinking I may never get this damned thing moving again but I couldn't just drive by.

I backed until the sliding door was close and scrambled through to exit that way. It was a body . Wrapped in a blanket and a coat, what looked like a female leg showing and I got very frantic. I hit that snow bank like an insane dervish, throwing snow, pulling on whoever it was, yelling and crying, dragging them to my van. I got the sliding door open and heaved her in and followed quickly.

With the door shut it started to warm again (I had not turned it off) and I began furiously ripping everything off her body. When I got the frozen blanket off her coat was frozen as stiff as her dress. Wet had gotten to her skin and she was very cold. Breathing shallow and slow. She was going into hypothermia; She was freezing to death in front of me, and she wasn't shivering. "Oh Shit!"

You can't leave this crap on someone. She would freeze to death in my warm car so I literally ripped everything off her, down to bare skin. I had to use a knife a couple of times, her bra and panties! Her dress and underwear were in shreds when I finished and tossed them in the front.

She moaned and said some garbled thing as I got her out of those frozen clothes. I had a couple sheets and blankets that were sitting out and much warmer. I grabbed a towel and dried her body. Her breasts and between her legs. It took two towels.

When I touched her back she let out a moan, almost a scream, that scared me to death. I lifted her and rolled her slightly and saw, finally, she had blood all over her. Her back was stripped like she had been whipped and I gently laid her back down, turned slightly, and put a towel over the wounds. I finally looked and she had bruises and lots of blood across her breasts and face and she was very swollen.

My mind stooped dead and I shouted, "Oh My Fucking God"," when I realized she was pregnant and quite far along. I had six kids and sixteen grand kids so I was quite familiar with it and I figured about seven months or maybe eight. Turned out to be seven and a half.

I was almost panicked by then, worrying about getting somewhere and having to leave her side while she was so cold. I had two heating pads (I get cold) and a converter installed in the van for house-power so I plugged them in and put them on her chest and stomach, pulling her into a fetal position, then wrapped her in two sheets and three blankets.

I got back in the drivers seat and got it going again. I was crying then, wanting to hurt someone for doing this to her, and a baby! I forced myself to stop because I would kill us if I couldn't see.

It's funny what you think when your pretty convinced you're going to die and take two more lives with you. One an innocent, and I kind of thought bad thoughts about a god that loves his "children" so much they allowed that. Fuck this free-will bullshit, she had no free-will. Since then I've decided that maybe I was wrong, that I was there for a reason.

And an old nursery rhyme ran through my mind, repeating itself. That little train that could, chugging up that hill, saying over and over, "I know I can... I know I can...", on and on. And I started moving. Either I scared God or my will power was stronger than I thought. A drift had built against the front and once past that we sped up.

I saw a sign a little later that said, "Jamestown 6 Miles" and my heart sped up. We would make it if I had to crawl the last few miles carrying them on my back. I was going to save this woman and her child or die. Probably die were my thoughts, but not yet. "Not.. Quite... Yet!", I kept thinking while I repeated that rhyme.

A silly line from a silly movie, Galaxy Quest, kept repeating in my mind too. I used it a lot after my kids saved me the second time. "Never give up, never give in!"

I didn't and almost an hour and three more, "Oh fuck! We're going to die's," ran through my head when I almost went off the road. I pulled under the over-hang at the emergency room and stepped out and promptly fell face-first into almost three feet of snow.

Two people came running out in heavy clothes and grabbed me but I was shouting, "She's in the van, don't fuck with me you asshole, save her, and the baby." Then, "Watch her back for Christ's sake, she's hurt!" I was a little distraught right then.

One took me and the other must have used a radio because two more came boiling out and I heard the van door slam as they carried her and I into the hospital, her on a stretcher on her stomach. "Thank you." I said and I'm not sure I've ever been more thankful for a kind act.

We were put in the same room in different Heated beds (maybe there is a God), wrapped in electric blankets and packed in heated pillows of some kind. No curtain because they wanted me to calm down and seeing her seemed to do that.

I could see her until they needed to be more private and they pulled a curtain. Right then, seeing her alive and the baby safe made her the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. And very pregnant. "Twins?" Went through my mind before the curtain closed. The nurse said something to me about my wife and I didn't correct her, it wasn't important then. I worried a lot though.

A couple hours later we were in adjoining rooms (husband and wife?) they messed with me, one nurse undressed me and washed me. She said I was sweaty. In a blizzard, freezing my ass off, and I was sweaty? When she finished she leaned down and gave me a kiss on the cheek and said, "I cleaned you and no one else knows. I'll wash everything at home."

Her name is Libby and I love her to death. It hadn't been a "Fart," and I never knew.

Then the cops showed up. They were called when the staff saw her back. I explained what had happened and gave them all my information and they left, with skeptical looks on their faces and I didn't blame them. They left a guard on my door to keep me company, and her safe I assumed. Mostly for her, and that thought was a good one to have.

They gave me some hot broth, which took a lot of will power not to gulp. I saw them rush her down the hall on a gurney and the world seemed to slow as she went by. Shining and pink, soft, monitors everywhere, and then it sped up again and I wondered about that.

Then they brought me a breakfast from their kitchen and I was asleep ten minutes later with the last fork-full in my mouth and the fork stick ing out the side.

They woke me and made me swallow, then I passed out again. I was absolutely wasted from all the tension. I slept for over sixteen hours and found out later that three people had frozen to death in their cars in that storm.

The next afternoon the cop was gone but a detective was sitting and watching me when I woke. He had to ask what I knew. I told him I knew nothing but we talked for hours. He asked a lot of questions about me and my history and eventually went away after taking a picture. Mike was his name, nice guy really.

She had no ID on her. It took four days for the storm to clear and another to get the roads free so I left on the fifth morning. I had checked on her, sneaking in a couple times late at night because I wasn't related to her. I just sat and looked. I found a picture of her after they bathed her. The monitors attached and ready for surgery. I kept that picture and it's a prized possession.

She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Maybe because I had saved her but I didn't care. That made me feel bad when I remembered Paige but I thought she would understand.

They had to take the baby, Caesarian, to save both their lives and I took a couple pictures of her and the baby with my iPad. One of her after the surgery and a couple of the baby too.

I probably spent twenty-four hours just sitting outside the viewing room staring at that small, red and wrinkled thing wrapped in swaddling and in an incubator. Some cultures believe if you save someone's life you're obligated to care for them, protect them. I was feeling that sitting there. I was thinking, "Wow, two more family, and a baby too.", and I liked that.

I felt so sorry for her, it was a girl, and her mom, and wished I could do more. What a hell of a way to start a life.

I tried to pay before I left and they wouldn't take my money. I was a local hero, a Samartin that deserved a reward and that embarrassed me. Libby, my nurse told me putting the heating pads on them and wrapping them saved both lives and that made me feel good. I wasn't a "hero" though, all I had done was what was any man would do and any that wouldn't weren't "Men!"

When I found out that she had no ID and they were going to move her and the baby to an eight bed ward I made them take my credit card and keep her in the private room. I left her a thousand dollars for new clothes, makeup and whatever else. She had a six week preemie for gods sake, what else could I do. I had it, she needed it, done! Fuck you if that's not good enough.

Then I did the dumbest thing I've ever done, I left without knowing anything about her. I headed as south as I could and four days later showed up at my brothers place in Beaumont, Texas. He has a couple hundred acres with horses. I stayed there for a week thawing out and tried to find out something about her and the baby but because I wasn't related they wouldn't tell me fuck all. Bastards. I wished I had stayed then.

One of the nurses finally told me her name was Morgan, and her babies name was, Boadicea. That's a Celtic name for a very strong Princess that almost kicked the Romans asses out of Britten around the year One. One of my hero's and that made me feel better. A very strong name for that beautiful little thing. Maybe it would keep her safe, I hoped.

I never forgot her or the baby. I tried several more times for information, getting pushy and rude at times, but nobody would tell me anything. My friend the nurse, Libby, didn't know or she would have told me. She did tell me that Morgan woke up three days after I left. That is still probably the single biggest regret in all my life. How stupid a decision that turned out to be.

She pestered everyone to the point of wanting to smack her, she wanted to know it all. I still talk to Libby, so does Morgan but we can never go see her. Beaudy calls her "Aunt Libby" and we think of her that way too.

Morgan had talked to the detective that interviewed me, Mike, and we still all talk too. He told her I was a Scott but wouldn't give her my name. Libby said she spent a couple hours on the internet and named her baby that because of me. That gave me a very good feeling that is still there. I had names and I wished them silent luck many times a day. I thought of them a lot.

***********************

Two years later and I was having trouble keeping my house as clean as I wanted, and a bunch of other physical crap. Getting old really sucks but so far it still beats the alternative. I decided to hire a house keeper and just kick back until I could join Paige, where ever she was. I really did hope I had been wrong and there was a heaven where we'll meet again, but I knew there wasn't.

I had my son, the IT guru, place an add and the next day I got a call. She was thirty-four and had a two year old girl. Her name was Andrea she said, and the baby was called Beaudy. She spelled it and it's pronounced, "Boody." We talked and she agreed to come by the next afternoon.

I spent half the night cleaning the fricking house so she wouldn't think I was a total slob and was exhausted when her and the baby showed up at noon.

When I opened the door tired went on a trip because there stood this stunning woman, long, wavy blonde hair and eyes, staring at me, sucking me in. She was standing there holding hands with a beautiful, olive-skinned little girl. I Said, "Hi, I'm Paul," and held my hand out. As she took it I looked down and smiled at this beaming, white smile and twinkling eyes and said, "and this must be Beaudy?" With a big grin.

Beaudy said, "Yep, I'm named after a queen.", and ran past me into the house. Her mom let go of my hand and darted around me to catch her, laughing and tickling her. She pulled Beaudy to her and rolled on her back on the floor wrestling and playing with her. I decided right at that moment I had found who I wanted.

But I stood there watching and wondering. She hadn't shaken my hand when I held it out as much as, "Worshiped?", it. She had taken my palm in her left one and laid the right one on top of mine, and looked at me. I hadn't really been paying attention, I was watching Beaudy and then the two of them. I could still feel a warmth, a tingle, in my hand and I looked at it for a moment or two, turning it over, while watching them.

She had a suitcase and I picked it up and set it in the hall as I closed the door.

I had had several of the pictures I took of Morgan and Boadicea printed and framed and had them hung in the hallway where I would see them every day. I had saved them and still wanted to find them. I had one of her before they took the baby, the one I stole. That was my favorite and was centered on the wall. A shrine? Maybe but, screw you if it's too 'cutsie', I liked it.

I found an artist that took the photos and worked with me, enhancing them until they matched the pictures in my mind. Beautiful color photographs now. It bacame a ritual, each time I passed them I would touch each one softly and spend a couple minutes being happy remembering, and then go on.

I also did a weird thing. I read an article about a forgery of Madonna and Child, painted about 1300 by Duccio di Buoninsegna, an Italian that was active by 1278 and died about 1318 in Siena. It hangs in th Metropolitan Museum of Art.

I finally bought that fake and it hangs alone, to the right of Morgan and Boadicea. That painting reminds me of them. That little red body. I see them like that when I think of them, just a maudlin old fart.

When she saw them she stopped and stood, picked up a giggling Beaudy and turned to the pictures, shushing her daughter and pointing at them. It was amazing watching her look. She studied them, touching like I did, worshipping?. Maybe. A gentle swipe of her fingers down and across them and it looked like a tear in her right eye. She studied the central one for a long time and I just stood quietly, watching her.

She whispered something to Beaudy and she giggled and said, "Oh, mommy," in that child like way that screams, "I love you." That's one of my favorite moments. God, I'm a walking cliche, another line from that weird creature that saved earth in Men In Black 2.

She turned and said, "Your daughter?" Her eyes were very bright but, again, I'm just a dumb old fart that's still stumbling along trying to figure it all out. Some times I just don't get it. She smiled very wide. It was a warm, almost loving smile but her eyes were wet and that did make me wonder.

"No." I said, "They're someone I met very briefly in a snow storm a few years ago. I helped her and the baby but I could never find them to check and see if they were okay. One of my life's dumbest moves was to leave then. I'll tell you all about it some day." I smiled a lot saying that and then took her on a tour. She lingered a moment looking at Madonna.

It took a half an hour and we were in the kitchen talking terms while I made coffee and Beaudy played with some of my grand kids toys on the floor. She waited a couple minutes and stood, pushing me aside with her hip, and taking over the coffee project making some crack about, "men." It took her half the time it takes me and she sat across from me.

Her hair was shoulder length, a darker blonde, wavy and thick. Beautiful smile and a body that I would have to be careful of not drooling over. Her breasts were about what Paige's had been, thirty-six C, and they stood out very well. Her butt was not a swim-suit models but what I had seen as she walked away got my close attention. Nice legs too as her butt wiggled away from me. She was tall, five-ten or more.

The house had a second master suite the previous owner had built for a caretaker so it was perfect. Two other bedrooms between them so one for Beaudy too, next to her. Beaudy was already nestling into my heart and I liked that feeling.

Room and board plus five hundred a month for spending money and an eight year old Highlander to drive. Hers while she worked for me. Her eyes got wide but she agreed and we shook on it. That touch again? She stood and poured coffee. I looked at my hand because it felt like I had been "Worshiped" again. What the hell?

She had the one suitcase and moved in right then. She didn't bring much with her besides clothes and a few toys. I would remedy the toy thing tomorrow. I have sixteen grand kids and five great ones. I had a friend who owned a day-care for toddlers and Beaudy spends four hours, three days a week there now. I pay but she thinks my friend just does it for me.

We went to movies and diner. Parks with Beaudy, we were a family in my mind. I sat, watching her get her hair done and trying on clothes many times. Well, she showed me, she didn't change in front of me, but there were times when I thought she wanted to. That was a favorite activity with Paige for years.

I would catch a glimpse of areola and nipple now and then. Once she walked out into the hall in just skimpy panties and bra and I had a lot of very sexy thoughts about her that night. She had scooted back in quickly and I didn't really see a lot but I filled in all the gaps with my mind.

It went on for three months and just got more comfortable. Beaudy was my grand daughter and Andrea was pretty much my daughter. I was trying for that but She kept getting in the way. I never wanted to have sexual thoughts about my own kids so this was a very big problem for me.

We went everywhere together and Beaudy started calling me "Daddy." I tried to switch it to grandpa, but she wouldn't listen so "Daddy" it was. It seemed to make Beaudy happy and that was good enough for me, but I got some really nasty looks in the store sometimes when she said it.

Andrea said to not worry, it didn't matter. She would smile and nod and soto-voice, so only I could hear, she would say, "Fuck you very much." They would usually smile and nod or say thank you and I would laugh.

I had a pool and in August she wanted to do a Bar-B-Que so I got all the stuff, got it ready in the kitchen as I watched her and Beaudy playing at the pool. When I carried it out and finally looked up she had taken her cover off and I saw her for the first time in a bikini. She was standing, facing me with a wide stance. "Strong lady" went through my mind.

I was so absolutely stunned I almost dropped everything. I got an instant erection and had to turn and go back inside quickly looking for some ice. "Holy Shit!" I almost screamed that, she was gorgeous. I mumbled some stupid thing as I tripped over my own feet a couple times.

She had a body like Lynn Collins. The woman that played Dejah Thoris, the princess with all those wonderful red tattoos in John Carter of Mars. I had a very healthy lust for that woman. I briefly wondered if she would consider getting those tattoos. It always amazes me at the really dumb shit I think of some times.

It took me five minutes to get myself presentable and it was a nervous fight to prevent it from happening again. It did though and I had to get back inside quickly a couple more times. She just waited outside for me each time and I still think she knew exactly the effect she had on me.

She had a big grin on her face each time I got back and that puzzled me a bit but decided she knew my problem and was laughing at me. That made it easier to handle for some strange reason and I stayed down the rest of the time.

Until we cleaned up and she bent to pick something up and her bikini was pulled aside. I could see her whole crotch. She was shaved (waxed?) whatever. Just a line with no inner lips showing and that darker "Star" right above.

She stood, turned quickly and said, "Oops. Sorry about that." With a huge smile on her face.

I said, "no problem," but it was a big problem. I had already turned and was headed back in pushing a huge, raging hard-on in front. I hadn't been that excited in more than twelve years. It surprised me that I still could. I heard a soft laugh just as I stumbled a into the kitchen. She came in a few minutes later carrying Beaudy and I was okay by then.

Beaudy was zonked. I took her and Morgan headed down the hall to Beaudy's room. We undressed her, got her washed and her 'Jamie's on and tucked in. We leave a night light on and just tip-toed out, leaving the door open a crack. We both worried we wouldn't hear her. "We?", god, I am a nut I guess. We walked past my room, Beaudy was between us, to the kitchen.

We cleaned and put away then went in and sat on either end of the sofa and turned on the TV. There was nothing worth watching and she asked if I would like a scotch. I said yes and she turned it off and went to the kitchen. I watched her walk away, having inappropriate sexy thoughts, then lay back and closed my eyes. I heard her set my drink down and I mumbled, "thank you" and she walked away.

My life has changed a few times. Major changes, and I would become a new person or get something, life. That night my entire world was destroyed and another built around me in an instant.

I didn't hear anything for a few minutes and when I finally opened my eyes she was standing in front of me holding two of the pictures from the hall. One of Morgan asleep just before they had taken the baby, cleaned up and beautiful with the monitors attached. The one I stole. The other of Boadicea, that wrinkled little red thing I had saved and promptly fell in love with. Hell, I had loved Morgan too.

I laughed and said, "Okay, it's story telling time." I took a sip of scotch and settled back again. "Her name was, is, Morgan and that beautiful wrinkled little red thing is Boadicea." I smiled as I said that. "I found them in a snow storm two years ago and managed to get them to a hospital. They saved the baby and mom but I don't know what happened to them. I tried many times but the fucking bureaucrats wouldn't tell me anything."

"I know..." She said softly and stared into my eyes. I looked back at the pictures, smiling and then back at her a couple times but she was quiet, just looking at me with a funny expression. What? What was wrong? And I looked back at the pictures. Finally she said very soft, "Look."

She just looked at me. A little light came on in my mind, just a candle twenty miles away. But it got brighter as I glanced back and forth at her and the picture until it went off like a nuclear explosion and I whispered, "Oh... My... Fucking... God....", you're Morgan and Beaudy is Boadicea."

I fell totally apart then, I burst into tears and came completely unglued. I was so happy I could have died and not resented it. "I thought I'd never see you again.", I got out but I'm not sure she understood the words, she did the need though. She quickly put the pictures down but took the time to make sure they weren't damaged. She jumped at me, grabbing me and pulling me into her. Rocking me and calming me. Crying with me.

She put her hands on my head and started making little soft sounds, stroking my hair and down my back, ."It's okay, we're okay. We're safe and happy now." Kissing my face, hair, Gentling my head into her breasts. She still had the bikini on and my face was on bare skin. Wet bare skin and that embarrassed me a little. She just pulled me closer and "Shusshed" me.

"It took two years to get us here. Tony and Micky helped me, I'll tell you about them later. She, Micky, and I are sisters now. She gave me your name and address, I've been watching you for two years. The obligation on saving a life goes both ways."

"Beaudy knows you as daddy because they had a picture of you and Mike gave it to me when Micky showed up. He said he'd wanted to but couldn't until then and wished me good luck. He said to call if I needed, that I was lucky woman and you were a nice guy, he was right."

I said, "I don't believe in luck. It's all chance. I think Pasture said, 'Chance only favors the prepared mind.' I've been preparing myself for seventy years to be a man. I just did what a man should do, chance put me there..." I almost started crying again and said very soft, "I did look for you."

She looked at me for a long time, just staring into my eyes. I could see her focus shift and wondered what she was thinking. I was scared out of my fucking mind for some reason, trembling. I couldn't think and was terrified I'd said something really stupid and shocked her. Maybe pissed her off. I can be so wrong some times it scares me.

She put her hand on mine and said, "I taught her 'Daddy', showing her your picture each time. You were her father. You saved her, and me." She said "and me" so soft I almost didn't hear it. All my fear dropped out of me right then.

"I've been in your store, talked to Lana and Deb ( my manager and an employee) and they like you, Paul, a lot. Shit, they love you! I've talked to several of your kids and they approve. You have some really great kids." And I started crying again. SHIT! I was tired of the fricking tears!

She calmed me again and held me, rocking me and said, "I've been on lush, I joined when I found out you were there. I've read all your lovely stories and the comments you've made. Learning you deep inside. You do let it all hang out. There are a lot of people there that like you and I've talked to a couple. They approve too."

She pulled back a little and kissed me. She ran her tongue across my lips and pushed it into my mouth, pulling at my head. I liked that, she wasn't afraid to show how she felt. She was proud of it. She kissed me for a few minutes and then put my head back on her chest and started talking again. I could Feel her talk when I heard her. I could get used to this.

She started again, "When I found out what you'd done, the danger and effort. Then what you'd done to keep me in a private room, I fell in love with you. Not some gooey eyed teenagers thing but a need to know more, to find the man that almost lost his life saving hers, and mine." Again that soft voice. "That money saved our lives again and I owe you so much. My daughter, and me." Soft.

"I hid for two weeks using that." They had heard about a rescue and came looking. Mike helped hide her and contacted the FBI. Tony and Micky were agents. She knew a lot of shit and was in the witness protection program but the information she had carried millions in reward money. She was quite well off now. About eighteen million dollars well off.

She sat straighter, stronger and continued, "Each time I held your picture up for Beaudy and said 'Daddy' she laughed and I loved you a little more because she was there to make that sound. I've been staying with Tina, and Aaron (my fucking marvelous kids again) told me you asked him to post an add for a house keeper. I was first because there was no add."

She said, "I'm going to ask you something. You are free to chose either path and I will love you either way." She just looked at me like she does when it's my turn. I learned that one quick.

"Okay, ask." I said

Will you leave with me tonight? In two hours. No calls, no emails except one we've written. To Aaron explaining what we're doing. A sudden boat purchase and a trip. We'll die on that trip and stay dead for many years. Or Beaudy and I'll die there and I'll never come back."

I stood and pulled her up, "Let's pack!" and we went arm in arm into "Our" room. Ours for two hours.

"We have two hours and we'll take only a weeks clothing and a few toys.", she said.

She kissed me for a while and put her hand under my kilt, on my thigh. She was squeezing it and relaxing her hand. Over and over again and I was very hard, very quick. She looked down at me and smiled, then looked me in the eyes and smiled more. My God, I was falling into her eyes, her soul, like I had Paige, almost fifty years ago.

"The only worry I've had was that you might not want me. When I touched the pictures the first time I could feel two years of your touch. Love that you left there each time. What I whispered to Beaudy was, 'See, daddy loves us too.' I want you so bad right now I'm ready to explode. Please take me to bed."

She stood in the center of the room and told me to "Look." Like I had wanted to for months now. I did that, god I did that. I untied the neck of her top and really saw her breasts for the first time. I had caught a few glimpses of her nipples but this was stunning. I put my hands on her and memories of doing this to Paige flooded me and I almost burst into tears.

Morgan felt just like she had, firm and oh so soft. She could pass the cigarette test. A dumb thing where her breast was lifted and a cigarette was placed there and the breast lowered. If the thing fell, those were perky boobs. Paige could pass the tooth-pic test and so could Morgan.

I took her top off and then untied the bottoms and slowly pulled them up across her clit, deliberately pulling straight up for the most contact. By the time the butt part was out she was panting hard. I took her head in my hands and kissed her like she had me. Licking her lips then pushing my tongue in. Sucking on her lips and kissing across her face, her eyes.

I stepped back and took everything off and her eyes followed each movement. When I pushed my underwear down an my cock bobbed up a huge grin appeared on her face and I took her in my arms.

I kissed her eyes so soft, a butterfly wings caress, and she moaned deep in her chest. She reached down and took my cock in both hands, squeezing and stroking. Fondling my balls and running one finger across that ridge of flesh on my scrotum and up to my ass. She wiggled it and I jumped a little. She chortled and started stroking me harder.

She walked me backwards until my knees hit the bed and she pushed me back. I fell and my cock was sticking straight up. She looked and smiled and said, "Now I'm going to fuck your brains out. I've waited for this for two years and I'm going to make you fuck my brains out. Then we'll sleep for a while and talk about doing it again.

And we did that. She crawled up on me and lowered her pussy to my mouth as she swallowed my cock and I almost came right then. The odor combined with what I saw was incredible. She stopped and waited until I moved again, she wanted it to last too. She could take me all the way in.

I'm not big, Paige measured once and said six and three-quarters long and almost two inches across. She called him "King Dong" for a while then stopped. I could feel her bite softly at the base of my cock.

I licked up and onto her ass and she jumped and came. She got very wet, oozing a fluid that I really liked. She moaned and I almost went off again. It was like being buried in my Artificial Pussy.

Yeah, I bought one. From lush, a vibrating thing called a Masturbation-Sleeve, a flash-light pussy and it was pretty good. Her throat felt like it did at one speed I liked. Now I know why I like that one. That went with us and she used it on me many times to absolutely explosive orgasms.

She said she found it the first week and had been waiting to use it on me. She had purchased a Freestyle vibrator there too, one that plugged into an iPod and beat at her to the music playing. That has given her and I so many wonderful times we'll always be grateful, "Thanks, Lush!"

She crawled off me and turned around. She pressed her breasts to my face and urged me to lick and suck, I bit a little too until she groaned, then let up. She came again when I did that and made my stomach and crotch very wet.

When she calmed she looked at me and said, "I knew it would work."

Then she moved down and reached under herself and put me right at the opening into her. "I like it in my ass too, but this is what I need right now." And she lowered herself slowly onto me. A tight fist gripping me hard and she gasped, stopped a couple time to get used to me and then moaned and started down again. It felt like ten minutes but was more likely thirty seconds.

When her pelvis was pressed tightly against mine and I could feel the head pressed into her cervix she sat up straight and just, sat. She would squirm a little then sit still and that went on for minutes. I thought I would scream before she got off and lay next to me.

"Love me now, Paul, please."

And I did. I pushed her legs back until her knees were at her shoulders. I worked myself close and my cock was resting on her pussy. She pressed it into herself and kept pushing down until the head popped into her opening. When it did we pressed toward each other and I bumped into her cervix again. She moaned and came again.

I started pumping and was soon close. She took my head in her hands and yanked my eyes to hers and locked me up so tight I came instantly. When I did her eyes changed and I got a rarity I had experienced with Paige only a few times. She came too and I could feel her squeeze me, pulsing too, as I did into her.

When we stopped we lay there exhausted. She kind of melted, relaxing completely and I carefully lay next to her and pulled her into my arms. We fell asleep like that, she liked me holding her. Paige never had, she said I was like a furnace and she cooked. I always missed that but Morgan liked it.

An alarm woke us an hour later, this lady was a planner.

We had to move fast then. The guy who had beaten her was a mob boss and she knew a lot of shit. He tried to kill her when she wouldn't abort and after the hospital she hid using the money I left to then contacted the FBI. For the first time in forty or more years I hated someone with a passion that approached what I had for dementia and started making plans to kill him.

She saw my eyes, made me look at her, pulling on my head and said, "Drop it, Paul. It's taken care of and he'll die in prison, maximum security prison, not a golf club. Don't do this shit to us." This was in her "don't fuck with me" voice (which I was very familiar with) so I worked hard on doing that and threw most of it away.

I leave a little piece sticking out when I bury it though so, sometimes when I'm alone (very infrequently), I can pull it back out and beat it some more. One of my mothers habits and I talk to God about killing him then.

I still want to kill that bastard. I've asked God to help me so I guess my souls damaged and if there is a heaven I won't go there. I won't see Paige or Morgan again and that is causing me tremendous emotional pain.

She hadn't had any problem finding me. She told them she wouldn't testify if they didn't set this up. I got a little pissed when I realized the fucking FBI was reading my stories but she told me the two agents she had dealt with, tony and Micky, said they were appreciated, a lot read them and thought I was good. I was never really convinced they were anything but okay so I quit worrying. I've met both of them and like them.

We are somewhere in the millions of square miles of water called the Pacific Ocean. Sixty-four Million square miles. The whole planet is one-hundred ninety-seven million square miles so that's a little less than one third of the whole fucking planet , so good luck finding us.

They fixed my back, six surgeries and now I stand straight and feel better. New face for both of us and smaller boobs for Morgan. Shit! But if it helps hide us and save her life I'm all for it. It's been ten years and I'm eighty-three but I feel seventy again and we both laugh our asses off at that.

We all have new names now. I'm Jack, my brothers name but she wanted it because she said when she read the first Jack Reacher novel she thought of how I had saved her and Beaudy. She embarrasses the shit out of me some times because she tells people that, the saving her part but no details.

Hers is Diedra and Beaudy is Lucia because of her darker skin. We tell everyone we adopted her. She is a very smart young lady and learned this game at three. We do have little private things, meals or a walk on the beach and we use our real names and get even closer.

Morgan wanted to be Paige when we changed names, for me. I cried that night, alone because I needed to. I finally told her, "I will do what you want. I love that name, I loved her more than my own life. Now I love you like that and I do not want to mix you up."

I wanted Diedra, after an actor I'd worked with doing Nuts. I was Dr. Rosenthal, Eli Wallachs part and Diedra was Claudia, Barbera Streisands part. In one scene she comes on to Rosenthal and every fricking time she got me with that. I learned a lot about what real actors did from her and, yeah, I loved her too. No sex though.

We have a beautiful forty or so foot, kind of sail boat thing with a neat name and move around. We have the most beautiful bamboo house on a little island or in a big city that I want to die in. Morgan won't let me talk about that.

She calls me "Mr. Immortal" because we had the surgical implant, inflatable dick installed and I'm hard any time we want. I took a lot off flack about that from the FBI agent friends and a couple others too when we walked through their office once.

Beaudy is twelve now and as beautiful as her mother, maybe more. She's almost as big as Morgan now, after her reduction, and they can swap swim suits. Shit! She's growing up and we're going to have to change our life style again. We've self-schooled her and spent months tied up so she could go to a local school and be with kids. Probably six or seven months a year since she was five.

She is a very healthy young lady and we both know she'll start getting really interested in boys and we'll have to accommodate that. We'll find someplace and move now and again. She still has more millions than we'll ever spend.

I will miss things though. At night, Beaudy asleep in the aft cabin and Morgan and I loving each other in the forward one, the boat moving with the waves and rocking us. We never have sex. I've tried many times, just a quick screw, but it never works out that way. Somewhere in there we just fall into that love again and drift off.

Sunsets across an open ocean are a beauty I'll miss, mornings too, standing in the pulpit sipping fresh coffee and holding my world in my arms. Well, half of it, it's usually just Morgan and Beaudy's still asleep. Storms! I've run before a few bad ones, been caught and thought we'd die once.

I'll miss all that and so will Morgan. When Beaudy gets into college, maybe Europe, we'll go back out. Maybe we'll die there or I'll get to fade away in our bamboo castle. I don't like thinking about that. I think I'll ask mike to take her in and protect her then. I trust him with our lives. I fight crying thinking.

I'll do anything, and have, for either or both of them. I have no other life now, they are my life. I would have let myself die years ago if I hadn't found them in a snow bank.

Maybe there is a God.

"Mother and Child." I think it with caps and quotes like that. I say it with caps and quotes.

It's a good life! Thank you God?