Mother Road free porn video

Author's note: All sexual activity in this story is between consenting adults over the age of 18.

This story is dedicated to all single moms out there; you're no unsexy matron. Motherhood kicks you up to another level of sexy.

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My divorce became official yesterday, so as of today my ex-wife Beverly is in the history books. After one year, six months, and 11 days, that guy in the mirror, Tom McFarland, is now officially single again!

Beverly and I met at the Art Institute of Chicago during an Impressionist paintings exhibit; our mutual love of Gustave Caillebotte was the match that lit the candle. (In hindsight, the way things blew up, it would be more accurate to say it was a fuse.)

At 29, I was a graduate of University of Illinois at Chicago with a Masters in Architecture, working as an architectural consultant the past eight years for SustainArch, a consulting firm in traditional and sustainable architecture, construction code mechanical systems and fire protection/life safety systems, etc. I was 6' tall, brown hair, brown eyes, at 215 pounds an average build (not muscular) but broad shoulders - genetics courtesy of my father's side of the family. I didn't go to the gym; since most of my work was outdoors and on construction sites, I felt I got adequate exercise that way.

Beverly Coggins (she kept her maiden name for professional reasons), 31, was brilliant, a PhD in Business Administration from Harvard University who worked as an international finance consultant for Deloitte. She was 6'1", blonde and slim, small breasted but with amazing legs that went on for days. She was all about fitness. When she wasn't working, she was usually lifting weights and doing aerobics at the gym or sweating at home on her treadmill.

We had a few things in common, like a love for art and high-paying consultant jobs. We dated for a couple of months and then quickly married, but with both of us being on the road consulting for most of the year and not seeing much of each other we quickly grew apart. Neither of us was happy; what little time our schedules allowed us to be home together, instead of quality time we really got on each other's nerves. All the cute idiosyncrasies we loved about each other while dating became major annoyances that drove the other person crazy.

Growing up an only c***d I eventually wanted c***dren, Beverly did not; the one time I raised the topic of having k**s, the reaction I got from her was severe enough that I never raised it again. My consolation consisted of enviously watching families with young c***dren at Millennium Park in the Loop on weekends.

I think it was a relief to both of us that we agreed to divorce. We'd signed a pre-nuptial agreement (real romantic, right?), so everything was very cut and dried. No alimony was involved, we sold our Gold Coast condo and split the proceeds 50/50, she got all the artwork and the Cadillac Escalade. (No big loss, I hated that thing. As the old saying goes, 'So fast, it passes everything but a repair shop'.)

Did I mention that I'm not a big material possessions guy? Besides my golf clubs and my clothes, the only other possession I had after our divorce was the 2003 Gulf Stream Touring Cruiser RV with 72,000 miles on it that I'd inherited from my parents after their passing. It was a real land yacht; 24 feet long, seating for 9 people, with a Ford V-10 motor. So, what does a newly divorced guy who hasn't taken a vacation for three years do? ROAD TRIP, of course!

As I was currently 'on the bench' between consulting assignments, my boss gave me his blessing to take a month off. The next day I fired up the Gulf Stream and headed to the intersection of Adams Street and Michigan Avenue in Chicago; it was here I began my westward journey on what's been called the Main Street of America, the Will Rogers Highway, and Glory Road, but I liked what John Steinbeck called it best: The Mother Road. I was driving Route 66 from Chicago to the Santa Monica Pier.

Starting in 1926, Route 66 was the main artery through the heart of the US. Chicago to LA, 2450 miles passing through 8 states - Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, and California. Officially decommissioned in 1977 and replaced by the US Interstate system, enough of it remains that a man can still drive on a lot of the original pavement. That's exactly what I was going to do!

I had passed through Illinois, Missouri, and Kansas and so far it was a great trip, seeing all the old tourist traps, eating at roadside diners that had been serving good food to people for over half a century - I probably added 10 pounds to my weight. I slept in RV campgrounds and saw what most people miss - the real America. This was the way to travel! Sure, the Interstate highways get you where you want to go quickly and smoothly, but by driving that way you missed so damned much, blasting through at 70 mph.

It was late morning on a Friday when I crossed the Oklahoma state line near Joplin, Missouri; little did I know that my life was about to change significantly. I'd stopped to get fuel in Sapulpa, Oklahoma, at an old-fashioned two-pump station. A grizzled old man was sitting in on a lawn chair out front, watching as I filled the Gulf Stream's tank. Finished fueling up, I replaced the nozzle in the pump and went in to pay; when I came out, he waved me over. He looked to be in his eighties, missing a few of his teeth.

"Name's Baxter Carlson," he said, holding out his hand.

"Tom McFarland," I replied, and we shook.

"You goin' west on 66?" I nodded. "Mind you stay on the main route. If the bridge at Deep Fork Creek is flooded out, you turn yourself right around and find a hotel. Whatever you do, don't take the Goodlin Road shortcut. They's a widow that lives on that stretch. Her name's Laura.(Laura from szaab.com) Not sure what her last name is now, she's been through seven or eight husbands, killed 'em all. Mark my words, boy, she's a siren just like in the story 'bout that Ulysses feller. If you come across her, don't never look her in the eyes - if'n you do you'll be bewitched - she'll gitcha fer sure!"

I thanked him for his advice. We shook hands, and I was on my way again.

As I left Sapulpa, approaching Kellyville I saw ominous dark clouds on the horizon. Twenty minutes later the clouds opened up; it began to rain like the hammers of hell. The sun had set; it was really dark now. As my visibility was seriously hampered, I slowed the motorhome down and drove at about 20mph for the next hour. A short while later I saw an Oklahoma Highway Patrol car with its lights flashing, blocking the road. I stopped, and an OKHP Trooper dressed in raingear walked up to my window.

"The Deep Fork Creek Bridge is flooded," he shouted over the noise of the deluge. "It'll be out until the rain stops and the water recedes, could be a couple of days." Gesturing down a side road, he continued, "If you want to keep going, Goodlin Road is a safe detour, it doesn't flood, just gets a little muddy." That name rang a bell, and it occurred to me this was the same road old man Carlson had warned me about.

I figured I could deal with a little mud, so I thanked the trooper and turned up Goodlin Road, still crawling at 20 mph. 'This should be fun', I thought to myself. There were no shoulders on this road. Too far to the right or the left, I'd be in a ditch, so I took it plenty easy. About 8 miles further, in the beam of my headlights I spotted a dark shape moving in the ditch to the right, which was half filled with fast-moving runoff. Stopping the Gulf Stream in the middle of the road, I got out to see what it was.

The shape was a very wet and muddy k** wearing overalls. He was a skinny boy, I was amazed the wind hadn't blown him away yet. "What in Sam Hill are you doing in the ditch?" I called out.

"I got caught in the rain; the road got muddy and it's stuck to my bike tires so they won't turn," he yelled back, "then I slid off the road. Now I can't ride it home!"

"Well, get in the motorhome, I'll take you home," I told him. As the boy got in, I waded into the ditch. With the mud already holding it fast and additional silt being dumped on it from the fast-moving ditch runoff the bike was really stuck, but I eventually got it out. The motorhome had a rack on the back, so I quickly threw the bike on it. Then, soaked to the bone, I opened the rear door and got back in the Gulf Stream.

"Hey, k**, there's towels in the bathroom, grab a couple so we can dry off," I told him. He got them and handed one to me. Pretty soon we weren't soaking any more, but manageably damp. Removing my wet t-shirt, I grabbed a clean white short-sleeve shirt (standard uniform for a field consultant) from the tiny closet and slipped it on. "OK, all set. How much farther do I have to go?"

"Not too much farther, it's about 3 miles," he answered, sitting down at the table.

"I'm Tom McFarland," I said, offering my hand. "What's your name?"

"Liam Carlson," he answered, as he shook it. "Thanks for picking me up, Mister McFarland."

"Nice to meet you, Liam, I'm glad to help," I answered.

Driving even more slowly in the driving rain, I spied a farmhouse off to the left. "This here's where I live," Liam said.

I turned in to the driveway, pulling up a few yards from the house; an old 70's-era Plymouth Fury wagon sat parked in the drive. Liam jumped out of the motorhome and ran in. There was a flash of lightning, followed a second later by a crack of thunder; if it had been raining hard before, it was a gentle prelude to the gully washer coming down now. I hope they didn't mind me parking overnight, because there was no way I was going any further in the big bulky Gulf Stream until the rain let up.

Liam ran up to the driver's side door and opened it. "Momma says you shouldn't be drivin' no more today, and she wants you to come in and join us for supper." Sounded good to me, and I followed the boy through the rain.

As I went from the motorhome to the farmhouse, my architect's eye spotted a small cabin off to the side of the yard about 20 yards from the main house, its windows dark. 'Must be a mother-in-law unit or something' I thought to myself.

We entered the main house through the back door and into a vestibule. On one side there was a wall-mounted coat rack with 8 hooks and five compartments above. The hooks held an assortment of small jackets, coats, hoodies, sweaters. The compartments were chock-full of c***dren's woolen hats, plastic toys, caps, gloves, and mittens. On the floor beneath the hooks, k**-sized boots and shoes were piled haphazardly.

"Leave your shoes in the mud room," a woman's voice called, "You best not be tracking up my clean floor, boy!" Liam looked at me and grinned, then took off his worn and muddy Red Wing lace-up boots. I followed suit, removing my now thoroughly soaked sneakers.

I followed Liam into the kitchen, the smell of beef stew filled my nostrils and made my stomach rumble. It had been a long time since lunch. A woman, presumably Liam's mother, was seated at the table trying to spoon food into the mouth of an uncooperative toddler in a highchair. Based on the orange splatter pattern around the c***d and on his mother, it appeared to be a doomed effort. Liam took a seat next to his baby brother; taking the baby spoon from his mom, he attempted to feed his brother with not much more success.

The woman's light red hair was up in a bun, with a few loose strands hanging down; since she was seated, I couldn't tell exactly how tall she was but it appeared she was somewhat short.

She turned and looked at me. Her face had a slightly round shape to it. I was struck by how cute her freckled nose was, but I was truly stunned by her incredible green eyes. Not to be too cliché about it, but they looked like deep green pools I could swim in. Sitting there with her glasses propped up on her forehead, hair in a disheveled bun and orange baby food splattered on her face, she was in fact quite stunning.

I also noticed there appeared to be a rather formidable pair of breasts filling her modest blouse. Unlike my ex-wife, whose expensive high-fashion garments purchased on Chicago's Magnificent Mile were always pristine with never a stain, this woman looked to be a real woman who got things done, all while wearing clothes from J.C. Penney. My first impression was that Liam's mom was sexy as hell.

She greeted me. "Hello, Tom. I'm Laura Palermo. Thanks for bringing Liam home. He's as sweet a k** as can be, but he got the personality while his twin brother James inherited all the brains. Honestly, I told him not to go too far with the storm coming, but he never listens." She waved her hand, the one with the baby food splattered on it. "I'd shake hands, but I don't want to get mashed sweet potato on you." She pointed her chin at the toddler in the chair. "Little Lucas here is a year and a half old, and I think God gave him to me just to test my patience. He's such a little dickens, now that he's started solid foods."

There was a tall thin girl with long dark hair stirring a pot on the stove. Laura nodded at her. "That's Olivia, my firstborn, cooking dinner. She's 16. Don't be rude, Olly, say hello to Mr. McFarland. He's our guest."

The girl turned towards me, gave me a tiny wave and said "Hi," in a quiet voice.

"Hello, Olivia, nice meeting you," I replied. She smiled, then then went back to her cooking.

Laura chimed in, "Olly is my rock. Poor thing, since she's been momma's little helper with the younger ones since she was 4 years old."

"Dinner will be ready in a minute, Momma," Olivia said, opening the door to the oven. The scent of fresh-baked biscuits filled the kitchen.

I mentally counted, then asked, "So you have four, Olivia, Liam, James, and Lucas? I think that's great! I always wanted a big family, but my ex wasn't interested at all."

Laura laughed. "Oh, I have more than four. I've been married three times, Mr. McFarland. Married my first husband Reverend Watkins when I was s*******n, mostly to get out of little Rankin, Texas, and I've had two more husbands since.

Olivia put down potholders on the table, then placed the large stew pot on them, with the steaming biscuits next to it. "Liam, can you help Olly set the table?" Laura asked. Liam gave up trying to feed his baby brother and pulled up several more chairs to the table, adding booster seats to two of them.

Laura continued with her explanation, "Anyway, just before Olivia was born, Reverend Watkins passed from heart failure in the middle of one of his scorching hellfire sermons. I knew my husband was older, like in his 40s, but it turns out he was actually 57. Olly was born a month later, my little angel." Laura pulled her daughter's face down and kissed her cheek.

Just then a boy walked in who looked just like Liam, fair-haired and slim. "Three years after the Reverend passed, I met and married my second husband, Glen Carlson. Glen was James and Liam's daddy." A cute little girl with red hair and a button nose bounced into the room wearing torn jeans and a unicorn rainbow t-shirt; her face was almost a duplicate of Laura's. Her expression was clearly not a happy one.

"Mom! James hid Sarah June again!" she howled, pointing at her smirking older brother now seated at the table.

Laura snapped, "James! Give Ava back her doll or it's off to bed without supper!" James looked down and mumbled, but got up and went to retrieve the missing doll.

"Glen was Ava's daddy, too. She's 11, a year younger than the twins. Liam loves her, treats her like a princess, but as you can see James has the devil in him and teases her constantly. Glen was working as a derrickhand on the oil rigs over at the Big Bend Oil Field in Osage County. James and Liam were 7, Ava was 6 when he died. He was high up on a rig when he slipped; somehow the lifeline connector on his body harness broke loose, and he was killed."

James had returned, handing the missing doll to Ava. Laura turned to him and instructed him to go get Elijah and Amelia and strap them in their booster chairs. Liam, meanwhile, was putting silverware on the table place settings.

She explained, "I married Chris Palermo 5 years ago, and we had Elijah, Amelia, and Lucas in short order. He worked as a distribution manager at a local wholesaler." She leaned closer to me and spoke in a low voice, "He loved his k**s, but not as much as he loved a tramp homewrecker in the order processing department. He left me and the k**s and ran away with her one night."

She leaned back in her chair as James led Elijah and Amelia in. The pair of them were adorable, looking like two oversized Kewpie dolls. Once they were buckled into their booster seats, Laura asked Olivia to say grace, then we all dug in, except of course for Lucas, who was more interested in decorating the tray of his highchair by squishing cooked sweet potatoes. 'Jackson Pollock would have been impressed', I thought to myself.

I have to admit this was the most fun dinner I'd had in the last several years. Dinners out with Barbara were cold, brief and efficient. When we ate at home, I did the cooking (which I enjoyed) but there was very little conversation. She'd help me clean up after, but like the meal it was a fast and quickly executed process.

Dinner with the seven k**s was controlled, well-fed chaos. Elijah, the four-year-old, was trying to tell everyone about a cartoon he'd watched that day but the story lasted so long he forgot what he was talking about. James teased Liam about liking a girl in their class, but Liam turned it right around and teased James about being all moon-eyed at a 17-year-old volunteer he'd seen shelving books at the library. Ava explained to me in specific detail the doll hierarchy in her collection; which was the oldest, which was the newest, which was her favorite, and even offered me a small stuffed bear to take on my trip as a co-pilot.

Olivia was fairly quiet the whole meal. I made repeated attempts to engage her in conversation about her school, her future plans, and so on. She smiled when I tried, but gave me mostly one-and-two words answers. When I complimented her on her cooking and told her I liked to cook myself, however, she perked up. She asked me about my favorite recipe to make (osso bucco) and told me hers (chicken fried steak), I told her about my 6" and 12" chef's knives, and asked her about what cooking tools she couldn't live without (potato masher and garlic peeler); we ended up having a nice chat. At one point I saw Laura looking at the two of us, a pleased look on her face.

Laura finally announced said her family had done enough talking, that they wanted to hear all about me now.

I thought for a second, trying to think of the words to keep my story short. "OK, I'm 29, working as an architectural consultant who travels around the US helping people build good buildings. I was married, but after a year we agreed we weren't right for each other, so we divorced. I don't have a lot of stuff, except for that RV out there, so I figured I'd take a vacation and drive the old Route 66 to see America. And here I am."

Ava jumped right in. "Your wife, was she pretty?" Wow, that was a high smoking fastball of a question.

"Well, yes, she had a pretty face. After we were married, I found out she was kind of mean, though." I made a horrified face and gasped "She didn't like k**s!" 'Whew, good answer, Tom', I thought to myself.

Ava hit me with her follow-up question. "Why'd you marry her?" In my mind, the odds of this k** growing up to be a lawyer or a journalist seemed fairly high.

"I've often asked myself the same question, believe me. We met at an art gallery in Chicago, both of us liked the same picture. We dated for a while, and then decided to get married. But it turned out we both wanted different things out of life, I guess."
Liam jumped in, "What about you, do you like k**s?" Whew, an easy one!

"Yes, I like them a lot, in fact," I answered.

Ava piped in again, "There's a lot of k**s to like in our house!" I laughed at that, looking at Laura, who seemed to blush a bit.

James piped in, almost as a challenge. "Was your wife prettier than momma?" There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as some of the k**s looked wide-eyed at Laura, as if the question might upset her.

"I think that's enough questions," she began, but I held my hand up to stop her.

I looked at James and responded, truthfully and genuinely, "That's an easy one. Your mother is the prettiest woman I've laid eyes on in a long time. My ex-wife couldn't hold a candle to her."

Laura really blushed at that; she told the c***dren, "OK, that's enough questions for now, let's finish up dinner please."

At the end of the meal, Laura took Elijah and Amelia upstairs for a bath and Lucas for a diaper change before putting the three of them to bed. Meanwhile I proceeded to help Olivia and the other three with clean-up. With the five of us pitching in, we had the kitchen spic and span by the time their mom came back downstairs.

I turned to the group. "Well, thank you all for a lovely meal, especially Olivia. Your cooking skills are top-notch!" Embarrassed, Olivia smiled and blushed, looking at the floor. Yawning, I said, "Well, excuse me! I didn't mean to be rude, k**s, it's been a long day. I'm ready to go to the RV for a good night's sleep, that's for sure."

Laura spoke up, "You're not planning on sleeping in your motorhome tonight, are you?"

"Well, yes," was my puzzled response.

She scoffed, "Don't be silly, you can use the guest cottage, it's still raining like blazes. You can have a nice hot shower and sleep in a warm bed without the rain rattling on your roof all night." I had to admit, she had a point.

"OK, then, thank you!" Putting on my squishy sneakers, I ran out to the Gulf Stream, grabbed my toiletries and some clean clothes, and went into the cabin. Laura was right, it was a great idea. Showers in the motorhome were quick and quite cramped; this was luxurious by comparison.

I'd dried off from the shower and put my robe on when there was a knock on the cabin door. "Come on in," I said.

Laura came in, carrying a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand, two shot glasses in the other. "Fancy a drink?" she asked. I could not help but notice that the blouse she was wearing earlier was no longer buttoned all the way up. Although the baby food stains were still there, the new view of her cleavage with the top three buttons undone had me enthralled.

"Delighted,", I answered. Sitting down on the small sofa, I patted the cushion next to me and she sat. Putting the glasses on the coffee table, she poured us each a shot. We clinked glasses, and sipped.

"Lucas weaned off the breast 10 days or so ago, so I can drink again but I hate drinking alone. It's nice to have company," she commented.

I looked around the cabin. It was small, but the pictures on the wall and some western-themed decorations here and there that made it cozy. "This is a nice place, thanks for letting me stay here. You were right, it's way more comfortable than the motorhome, for sure."

"You don't know how much a woman appreciates being told she's right." She smiled and looked at the floor. "I'll tell you a secret. My k**s don't know this, but this cabin was built by my first husband soon after we moved into this house. He'd been hired as a preacher at a local church, so we were settling down. He built it for me to live in during my upcoming birth, and afterwards I was to live in it during my monthly; he used to go on and on quoting the Old Testament about how when a woman gives birth or has her flow, she has to be isolated for seven days afterwards. The Reverend wasn't a cruel man, but he had some really funny ideas about women's bodies.

He passionately believed that sex was for procreation only, not for pleasure. On our wedding night, he made me pray with him for an hour before he cut a hole in a sheet; he used it to cover me while he put his penis in me, but not touch me otherwise. Fortunately for him I was very fertile. I became pregnant with Olivia right away, so his husbandly duties were taken care of for at least 9 months. When he died of a heart attack a month before I gave birth I was sad, but honestly it was a relief to be free of him and his crazy religious ideas. Truth be told, I don't miss him. I'm grateful for Olivia, and that he got me out of Rankin, but that's about it.

You'd think I'd hate this place, but once he passed away it became my sanctuary. Whenever I get sad or just overwhelmed from being a mother, this is my quiet space. The k**s have all been taught that unless there's an emergency, they are never to disturb me if I'm in here."

So this wasn't a mother-in-law unit; it was a retreat! "I have to say, Laura, dinner tonight was a lot of fun, I really enjoyed your c***dren and their energy." My shot glass was empty, I poured another one.

She laughed. "I think they enjoyed you, too, especially Olivia. The poor thing has never had a father to call her own. First, her own father dies before she's born, then each of my other husbands mostly ignored her and paid more attention to the fruit of their own loins, so to speak. She's always been the invisible stepc***d. Tonight, I think you made her feel important, which is worth more than gold to me." With a quick swig, she finished off the contents of her shot glass. I refilled it.

"Laura, I have to ask you, if you don't mind answering, it's obvious you're doing an amazing job raising these k**s but how are you able to afford it?"

She exhaled, then explained, "Carl's life insurance and the AD&D payment from his accident gave us a nice nest egg, enough where I was able to pay off the farm's mortgage. No way I could raise crops myself, so I lease the fields to local farmers which brings in a little income. In between property taxes, food, insurance, clothes, and utilities, if I manage the money well, we should be able to get by for a few years.

I got the law after my third husband, he skipped down with his whore and now he owes a shitload of c***d support. Olivia wants to go to college when she graduates, but even if she can get herself a small scholarship I don't know where I'll find enough money to pay for the rest. It's not like there are men lining up to court a 34-year-old woman with 7 c***dren."

Maybe it was the Jack Daniels in me, but I blurted out, "Oh, I don't know, Laura. You might be surprised." She chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief.

I moved closer to her. She smelled of sweet potato baby food, cinnamon, and diaper cream. It sure smelled better than Beverly's $70-a-bottle perfume from Neiman-Marcus, hands down. I was now 100% certain I wanted to make love with this woman. I put my arm around her, to gauge her reaction.

She smiled and whispered, "Mr. Tom McFarlane, architectural consultant, you are one handsome man, and if you have no objections, I'd very much like to kiss you."

I smiled my most seductive whiskey-fueled smile. "Why, Laura Palermo, beautiful mother of seven, I would be offended if you didn't." I turned to face her slightly as she turned into me. We wrapped our arms around each other and made out like a couple of teenagers in the back of a Chevy on Lover's Lane. When we finally paused, I poured another shot, then drained it. It was a good thing I had a belly full of beef stew, or the alcohol would be seriously kicking my ass.

Kissing her neck, I murmured, 'You want to hear something funny? When I was getting gas on the way here, I met a man who warned me to stay off Goodlin Road, and specifically to stay away from you. Claimed you'd had seven or eight husbands and killed them all."

Laura chuckled. "Ah. That would be Baxter Carlson. He's my second husband's great-uncle, and he still carries on like I personally climbed up there and pushed Glen off that oil rig. That's why I don't let Glen's k**s see him, even though he's their kin, he's got such a poisoned mind and a vile mouth."

"You want to know something else? Baxter also told me not to look you in the eyes, because then I'd be bewitched and be under your spell." I knocked back the rest of my whiskey. Without asking, she refilled it; I drained it again. Emboldened now by the Jack Daniel's, I continued. "Thing of it is, Laura, the geezer was right. You have the most beautiful eyes, and I feel like there's no place else I'd rather be than right here, right now, with you." I gave her a passionate kiss, my hands running over her breasts and belly, then asked, "What do you think of that?"

She seemed to be emboldened by the alcohol as well. "Tom McFarland, you sure talk pretty," she slurred, "and damn me for a fool if I don't take you to bed this minute."

Taking my hand, she stood and pulled me upright, then walked the few feet into the small bedroom. My robe had come undone, and my hardening cock stuck in the air like a 7" flagpole. We stood in the dark, only the light from the adjacent living room illuminating us. I reached to turn on the light, but her hand grasped my forearm.

"Tom," she said in a serious tone, "I've had seven c***dren. My body won't begin to compare to your ex-wife's." I kissed her lips ever so gently, then whispered my response.

"Laura, you are one of the sexiest women I've ever seen in my life. You're beautiful, and your womanly body just makes me want you more. I want you to forget about my skinny-ass phony ex. Believe me, I certainly have."

She released my hand, and I turned on the light. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I pulled her close in and unbuttoned the rest of the stained blouse. It fell to the floor, and before me her sweet globes were barely held in check by a red bra, straining the straps to their limit. "Until a few days ago I was breastfeeding Lucas," she said, "I'm usually a 38D, but I'm still kind of milk-swollen right now."

"Zero complaints from me, Laura," I murmured, reaching around behind her and undoing the hooks on her bra. She slipped it off her shoulders, and I began to kiss her now-exposed tit flesh. Making my way to her nipple, I noticed it had a drop of milk on it.

"I haven't dried up yet, I'm still - OH!" She gasped as I took her left nipple in my mouth and began to suck. It tasted like heavily sweetened almond milk and I savored it, first on the left, then on the right.

"Your tits are magnificent," I murmured in between kissing and sucking them, "I just can't let them go!"

She giggled, "If you stay there all night, you won't get to what's between my legs."

"Ah, thanks for the reminder!" I continued to suckle on her as I undid her belt and unzipped her jeans, then slipped them down to the floor. She stepped out of them, then took a step back, out of my arms, suddenly serious.

"Tom, take a good hard look" she commanded. "Look at my belly, with all its fat bulges, stretch marks and tiger stripes from seven babies." I couldn't help but admire how her pubic hair was surprisingly thin, but the same shade as the hair on her head. Then she turned around. "Look at my ass. It's not the tight ass of some skinny college girl, it's the ass that comes from being in the delivery room six times." She turned back around and faced me. "You're a handsome and intelligent man who can have any damned woman he wants. I don't want to waste your time here. Don't lie to me. Is this really the body you want?"

My emotions were in a whirl. I was horny as hell, but it was obvious that her last husband leaving her had done a real number on her self-esteem. I felt it was best to just speak my truth.

"Laura Palermo, I want you so badly right now I can taste it. You're beautiful, you're sexy, you're everything that my ex-wife wasn't. Hell yes, I want you. I want you tonight, and the next night, and the night after that."

Suddenly, she was on me. My robe came off as she pushed me onto the bed. She began sucking my hardness, but I stopped her. "Get on the bed, I want this to be about you," I told her, and moved her onto her back.

As I positioned my head between her thighs I asked, "Did any of your husbands kiss your pussy, or were they selfish?" I lowered my head, and went to work, my tongue exploring her labia.

"N-n-no," she whimpered, "they just fucked me. Oooooh! That feels so goooooood!" I could feel her fingers going through the hair on the back of my head. As my kisses circled her pussy lips, I felt her shiver.

Her hips bucked a little as I slipped my tongue around her clit, then I slipped it directly into her vaginal opening. Fortunately, my hands were firmly grasping her ass, otherwise I think she would have slid off the bed. She howled with pleasure, her hands gripping the bedsheets as she thrashed her head side to side.

I continued my frenetic tonguing, pausing only to pull my head up to take deep breaths. I managed to gasp, "Your pussy is delicious!" before returning to my ministrations. Suddenly she gave out a strangled shriek before going rigid.

"Oh, shiiiiiiit!" she cried, pushing her mound harder against my face as an orgasm ripped through her.

I moved up on the bed next to her, and we kissed again. I teased her, "Don't we taste good?"

"Mmmm-HMM!" she murmured through our kisses. We kissed a little more, my dick now diamond-hard. "Get on your back," she whispered.

I obeyed, and she quickly straddled me cowboy-style. Her pussy was slick with her juices, and my dick slipped right in.

"I may have had seven c***dren, but I still know how to please a man," she boasted, grinning. Instantly I felt her vaginal muscles clamp down on my cock, it was like my dick was being gripped by a warm, wet pair of vicegrip pliers. "I do my kegels every day!"

"Daaaamn, girl", I whispered. Lifting my head up, I tried to suckle on Laura's nice milky nipples as they danced in front of me.

She was riding me hard, and I felt my climax building. I wasn't wearing a condom, so I tried to warn Laura, but she wasn't paying attention.

"It's been over a year since I've a man in me," she said, nearly breathless, grinding her pelvis against mine, "You feel sooooo good!"

I threw back my head to enjoy this fully because it was clear there was no way she was going to let me pull out. I groaned, and my balls released their burden; a few seconds later her climax hit her and she shuddered, pressing her pussy down on me as hard as she could.

We lay together afterwards caught up in the afterglow, enjoying the intimacy and warmth. Cuddling after sex was not something Barbara did; a quick shower, then it was get dressed and brush her hair, so I was really enjoying this part. The softness of Laura's skin, the smell of her shampoo, all of it was bliss. We both closed our eyes, and sleep claimed us.

Early Saturday morning I was awakened by the sounds of Laura moving around the cabin. The clock radio next to the bed read 5:15am. Looking over at Laura, I saw she was putting on one of the sweatshirts I'd brought in from the RV. Her bra still lay on the floor, which meant she was braless under it. Yum!

"Hey hotness," I said in my sexiest morning voice, "come on over here and let me get another taste of that sweetness." I reached for her to pull her back to bed.

She stepped just out of my reach. "Sorry," she chuckled. I've got to get back to the main house and make breakfast before the k**s wake up. I don't want them to know I spent the night with you, it's too soon yet for that."

"Awwwww," I jokingly whined, "no fair!"

"Sorry about borrowing this sweatshirt, but if I was wearing the same thing this morning that I was wearing last night, it would look suspicious. As you've seen, Ava is like Nancy Drew, she can be quite the detective."

I chuckled, "Why does this not surprise me?"

She pulled on her jeans and slipped on her shoes. "I have to warn you," she said, "we need to be extra careful now. One doctor I had many years ago warned me I was hyper-fertile. I guess I take after my mom like that. She'd had eleven k**s when I left, ended up having three more after I was gone. We need to be more careful."

"Oh, cross my heart," I answered, smiling and making an x-motion across my upper chest.

Then as she grasped the doorknob, she stopped. Without looking back at me, almost as if fearing the answer, she asked, "Umm, Tom, how much longer are you planning to stay, exactly? You're welcome to stay for as long as you want, but I know you were headed down Route 66 to California when you got sidetracked here."

I responded in a gentle voice, "You know, I'm enjoying you and the k**s so much, I'm thinking of staying here through the end of next week at least," I answered, then lowered my voice, "not to mention, my landlady is real easy on the eyes, I'm hoping to get me a taste of that."

Still not turning around, she cracked, "Smart ass," then stepped out the door to go make breakfast.

I went back to bed and slept in for a few hours more. After I got up, I asked Liam, James, Olivia and Ava to go fishing, since my dad's rod and reel happened to be in the RV. We didn't catch anything at the local creek, but it was still nice just being with the k**s, listening to them talk about their views of the world.

Saturday night the cabin door creaked open and Laura crept in. No booze with her this time, it was just her wearing my sweatshirt and her jeans; this time she'd planned ahead and brought a change of clothes for the morning. No discussion this time, we just went to bed and began kissing and caressing, and I helped her undress in record time. She laid on her back and we made love missionary-style.

I still had not been to town to buy any condoms yet, so when I was close to cumming I pulled my cock out and spurted multiple jets onto her wonderful belly. She reached down and rubbed it into the skin of her tummy, and when she finished, I took my turn, covering that spermy belly with kisses.

I turned out the light, but as we lay spooning together neither of us seemed to want to sleep; I kept caressing her tits and nipples, and Laura in turn kept pushing her luscious ass into my semi-soft cock. "You're such a tease, no wonder you drive men crazy," I told her as I kissed the top of her head and her naked shoulder.

"What can I say, you inspire me," she responded. She turned around to face me, her hand stroking me back to hardness. I reached down and lifted her leg, allowing me access to her still-slick mound. I slowly entered her again; she flexed her pelvic muscles to squeeze my cock as I began to thrust in her.

I loved being face to face with her as we fucked; it allowed me to kiss her and also gave my mouth access to her neck and tits. As I kissed and nibbled on her nipples, she began matching my movements with her own pelvic thrusts and my climax arrived much faster than I expected. Instead of pulling out, as my balls emptied themselves of what little they had left, I pulled her close to me, squeezing her body tightly against mine as I came.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "you're just so sexy, I couldn't help myself." Kissing her collarbone and neck, I assured her I would buy condoms tomorrow. We lay quietly for a while, but it was such a joy to hold her bare skin against mine I couldn't sleep. My cock had checked out for the night, but my brain was still active.

Then I whispered the thought that had been rattling around in my mind, "You know, Laura, we haven't known each other long and this sounds crazy and impulsive, but would you ever consider the possibility of getting married again? Like, as in married to me?" She did not respond for a while; either she'd fallen asleep or was deep in thought. Finally, I heard her voice whisper back.

"I'm sorry Tom. I don't think it's crazy, but I don't think it would be a good idea. You just got out of one bad marriage. I'm afraid I'm just a distraction for you right now; if you marry me, after a few months you could decide it was a mistake and end up leaving. After my experience with Christopher, I couldn't bear that. Neither could the k**s. They've taken a real liking to you. If you abandoned them it would devastate them, Olivia most of all. I just can't take that chance."
"Laura, I..." She silenced me by giving me a big passionate kiss.

"Tom, you've made me feel so good the last few days I can't begin to describe it. I have a lot of strong feelings about you, but I just can't be having this discussion right now." I felt her reach down and fondle my balls. "You think you have it in you to fuck one more time?"

I was certain I had no energy left in my cock and balls, but it turns out I was wrong. This time, she locked her feet behind my back and didn't let me pull out.

Sunday, the whole crew piled into the RV and we drove to the local mall to do some window shopping. With Laura, Olivia, and Liam pushing the little ones in strollers, we covered every inch of the place. I deliberately spoiled the older k**s, bought them cookies, pretzels, pizza, and corn dogs until they were about to burst. Laura scowled, shaking her finger and scolding me.

"Damn it, Tom, if they get upset tummies and start throwing up in the middle of the night, pal, three guesses who's going to get his irresponsible butt hauled out of bed to clean it up!" I grinned and raised my hand; it was a risk I gladly took.

Before leaving the mall, I detoured the six oldest k**s into the shoe outlet and got them all new shoes. Olivia was so happy with hers I thought she was going to burst. Heading home at the end of the afternoon I had an RV full of exhausted c***dren, and a level of happiness in me that I hadn't felt since...well, ever. Laura finished buckling all the k**s in and was coming forward to sit in the cabin passenger seat next to me; as I started the Gulf Stream, she leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on the mouth!

I heard Ava giggle, then start a little sing-song, "Tom and Mommy, sittin' in a tree..."

Driving down the highway, the significance of this sank in - Laura had felt comfortable enough to actually kiss me in front of the k**s. Maybe I did have a chance, after all!

Sunday night was a school night, so the older k**s all went to bed at their weekday bedtime, 9pm. Laura came to the cabin about 11. We made love, with condoms this time, and it was soft and gentle and wonderful.

"Today was such a great day for me, Laura. I had so much fun with you and the k**s."

"Except you spoiled the shit out of them, Tom. I know you meant well, sweetie, but you can't do that every time we take them to the mall. Promise me!"

Something connected in my brain. "Are you saying you think that we'll do that again? More than once?" I could feel my smile growing.

A flustered Laura shot back, "Damn it, Tom you know what I was trying to say, I didn't mean..."

I interrupted her. "And you kissed me in front of them! What was that about?"

"I was just trying to give the c***dren an example of positive emotional interactions between adults! Don't go reading too much into it!"

"But I.." Suddenly Laura reached down, pulled the condom off my cock, and threw it against the wall.

"There's only one sure way to get a man to shut the hell up," she declared, promptly lowering her mouth onto my drooping manhood. Soon, it was no longer drooping. She slurped, licked and sucked, using her lovely lips with true conviction until I erupted, then she swallowed every last drop of my baby batter.

I reached down and pulled her up to me, kissing her cum-smeared lips, tasting my own spend. Damn, I was crazy about her.

Monday through Friday were pretty much all the same. I helped Olivia prepare dinner, but if she had too much homework on any given night I'd step in and cook the entire meal.

I tried to help Olivia, James, Liam and Ava with their homework as much as I could, but I'm a damned architect, not a mathematician, the new math books made my brain hurt. What ever happened to things like multiplication tables?

If homework got done early enough, I'd end the evening playing a board game with Olivia, Liam, James, and Ava, usually losing. And of course, if anyone should decide they needed a story read to them before they fell asleep, I was there, book in hand. Funny thing about k**s, even if they're old enough to read on their own, sometimes they still like being read to. (Truth be told, in Ava's case "sometimes" translated to "every night".)

Every night Laura came to the cabin and we made love, most nights twice, because I just could not stop myself from touching this woman's body. The lack of sleep was telling, by midweek she looked exhausted. Wednesday night, I insisted we skip the sex and just sleep in each other's arms so she could get a little caught up on her rest. (As much as my cock argued with me, I knew she needed it.)

Laying with her, smelling her hair and listening to her slow breathing, it dawned on me that the satisfaction Laura had given me in just the few days I'd known her vastly exceeded any pleasure, physically or emotionally, I'd ever experienced with my ex-wife. If Beverly somehow magically appeared at the door to the cabin tomorrow wearing nothing but a smile, I'd slam the door and walk away. Laura had definitely changed my preferences in women, and for the better.

When Laura and I got into bed Friday night, as usual I was grinning like a k** with a new bike. We started kissing, and my cock was responding. I rolled her on her back but before I could reach for the condoms, she put her hand on my chest.

"Tom," she whispered, "No condoms tonight. Let's do something different." OK, this was intriguing.

"What did you have in mind, my sweet?"

"My husband Carl hated using condoms. I can't take birth control pills, they screw up my system and make me sick, so sometimes we'd use what my Momma called 'poor man's birth control' - anal sex."

I was stunned. "This is something you really want?"

"Yes, Carl was always gentle, and made it enjoyable for me. Would you be willing to try?"

A light bulb went off in my brain. "Sure, sweetie. But I have an idea that should l make it extra nice. Do you trust me?"

"Umm, sure."

Reaching into the nightstand, I pulled out a 10-ounce pump bottle of coconut oil. "I was reading where coconut oil is good for a woman's skin, so when we were at the mall the other day I picked up some at the Natural Solutions Health Shop." I squirted some on both of my hands and rubbed them together to warm the oil. "Let's start with your beautiful belly." I ran my palms over her wonderful roundness, making sure the stretchmarks and tiger stripes she was so worried about got lots of attention. Another squirt, and I moved up to her big breasts.

"You like that, lover?" I teased as I massaged each luscious mound in turn, her areola seductively glistening with the oil. A little milk came out, but as there was no baby to drink it, I took it upon myself to take a several sips. She groaned in delight.

"I just weaned Lucas; Am I going to have to wean you, too?" Laura laughed, cradling my head to her breast.

After feasting on her nipples, I put a pillow down on the center of the bed and rolled her over. Pumping another squirt of oil on my hands, I began massaging the globes of her wonderful ass. After a bit, I worked my oily hands down the crack between them. "Oh, Tom," she sighed, "yes, please!". Spreading her legs, I lowered my face and kissed her cheeks on each side of her rosebud. Going further down, I touched my tongue to the lowest point of her pussy lips, then trailed it upwards across her perineum until my nose crossed over her precious sphincter.

Her face was now buried in the other pillow but when I caressed her little pink hole with my tongue, she let out a muffled shriek. The hardness of my impatient cock told me it was time to make the move, so I slid my torso up her well-oiled ass. I pumped one more squirt of oil on my palm and applied it to my rod to make sure it was well-lubed, then pressed lightly against her hole. She pushed her ass back slightly, and suddenly I was buried in her rectum!

The feeling was overwhelming, and I couldn't stop myself from uttering, "Laura, I love you so much, babe!" I stayed in that position motionless for a few moments, until I felt her pushing her ass back into me. Then I began to move in and out very slowly, not full strokes but shorter gentle, easy ones. I moved my hands under her breasts, gently squeezing and caressing them as I made love to her sweet ass. If there was any hesitation or doubt left in me about having this woman as my own, it was completely and utterly purged at that moment. My mind was made up - she would be mine.

As I moved in and out, I felt her fingers reach under and manipulate her pussy. For a few minutes we moved together as one, moaning our pleasures; I started to feel like I was going to cum any moment, but she beat me to it, shuddering with pleasure as she climaxed. This only hastened my own release, and I groaned loudly as my balls released their payload, coating her rectum. I gently moved myself off her, wrapping her in my now-oily arms to pull her close; that's when I felt her quietly sobbing, her face buried in my chest.

"Laura, honey," I asked gently, "did I hurt you? I'm so sorry!"

"No, Tom, you didn't hurt me. I'm so sorry, you were absolutely wonderful. I'm...I'm just a little emotional right now. I really loved Carl, he was the most affectionate of my husbands, and I've missed him ever since he was killed. My other two never had me like that, only Carl, and doing it with you just now brought back some nice memories. Forgive me, I'm just being a woman."

"That's allowed," I murmured, kissing her forehead, "Feelings aren't negotiable, it's OK to feel what you feel."

She sniffled, then went on. "My first husband, Reverend Watkins, well, I was the oldest of eleven k**s, and daddy was a tenant farmer so my family didn't have much money. The Reverend Watkins was having some tent revival meetings in our town, and while I wasn't religious, it paid $5 a night, which seemed good pay just to sing a few songs. After the meetings were over, he came to my folks' house and asked my parents' permission to marry me. He told them God had sent me to him like an angel, and he wanted me by his side as he preached.

He was handsome for an older fellow, and he seemed nice enough, so I didn't object. Seeing how they'd have one less mouth to feed, my parents gave their permission. Reverend Watkins and I were married that afternoon in the City Hall, on the way out of town to the next revival. Like I told you the other day, he was a poor lover, and only had his dick in me the one time, and I was covered with a sheet during it. Other than me being pregnant with Olivia, there was no real joy in our marriage.

When I married Glen, though, wow, he was a real man. When he was home on leave from the oil rigs he loved me up good and proper. When he was killed, I might have lost my mind except the k**s kept me going. Then Christopher came along, I don't know what he saw in me but as a widow with four k**s I was flattered by his attention. He was a good lover, but the trouble was he liked to spread it around. I came to find out later that homewrecker he ran away with wasn't the only one he was sticking his peter in, she was just the one that got him to leave me. I hear he fathered two other k**s in town before he hightailed it out of here.

She stopped and looked at me. "And then you showed up. We barely know each other but start screwing like bunnies, and then here you go talking about marriage." She shook her head. "You're a wonderful man, but you're spinning my emotions around." She wiped away her tears. "Come on, let's clean this oil off."

We got up and showered, soaping the coconut oil off each other. She changed the now oil-soaked sheets for fresh ones and we slipped back into bed. She snuggled against me, and quickly fell asleep. I soon dozed off as well, the mixed scents of coconut oil and sex still permeating the room.

Saturday morning I was in the cabin alone, Laura having gone off two hours before to make the k**s breakfast like usual and do some laundry. I'd just put on a plain blue t-shirt and jeans when there was a knock at the door. I opened it, and Olivia was there. "Can I talk to you a minute?"

"Sure, k**do, come on in, have a seat." Olivia sat on a chair, and I sat on the sofa facing her. "So, what's up?"

"Well, you know our house has four bedrooms, right? Amelia and Ava have one, James and Liam share one, Elijah and Lucas share one. Well, Momma and I share the last one. Since you've been here, Momma's bed hasn't been slept in. She gets up early to make us breakfast, pretending like her bed was already made but I know it wasn't; I slipped some paperclips under the covers a few days back, and they haven't been moved. She's been staying nights here with you, hasn't she?"

I was amazed at Olivia's cleverness, but more so at her being open and direct with me. When I first arrived, I could barely get a word out of her.

"Before we have this discussion, Olivia, I have to tell you how honored I am that you would even come to me. It shows a willingness to trust, and I know you're very private and don't trust people easily. So thank you." The girl blushed, nodded and looked at the floor, but said nothing.

I added, "You're 16, almost 17, so I'm going to speak to you as an adult, not a c***d. Is that OK?" Again, she nodded.

"You're right about your mom. She and I are two lonely people right now and have found we really enjoy each other's company. And yes, I find her very attractive, I truly adore her. You're correct, she's been spending the nights with me."

Olivia's cheeks turned about as red as they could be, but she still kept her gaze downward. "When my step-dad Christopher left her, it really hurt her bad. She didn't laugh at anything for months. Now you're here, and she's acting happy again." She looked up from the ground straight into my eyes, her face a grim image. She spoke now with intensity. "I want you to swear you won't hurt her like Christopher did." She took my left hand, huge against her two little ones, and squeezed it tightly. "Promise me you won't." Tears were in her eyes by this point. My eyes were welling up as well, at the love this girl had for her mom.

Now it was my turn to gently squeeze her little hands with my left, holding up my right. "Olivia Watkins, as God is my witness, I swear to love your mom and will not do anything to hurt her, ever. And if, for whatever reason, she gets tired of me and chucks me out, I will never do or say anything to cause her regret. That's just not the man I am." Then I jokingly added, "If you don't believe me, and you can ask my ex-wife!" Olivia smiled, and made an attempt at wiping away the tears now running down her cheeks.

She started to stand up, but I gently pulled her back. "Before you go, I wanted to ask you one more thing." I took a ring box out of my jacket pocket, placed it on the coffee table and opened it up. An engagement ring was there, shiny and new. "I'm planning on proposing to your mother tomorrow night. Do I have your blessing?"

Olivia jumped up and threw her arms around my neck, sobbing. (I guess teenage girls are kind of emotional, huh?) "Oh, YES, Tom, of course!" she squealed in between her happy tears. I gingerly put my arms around her, lightly hugging her and awkwardly patting her back.

"This leads me to something else that's important to me," I told her. "I not only want to be a husband to your mother, but I want to be your dad. Not a step-dad, you've already had too damned many of those. You've never had a real dad. I want to be that dad.

If Laura agrees to marry me, I want to adopt you and would like you to take my last name. I want to be the dad that watches over you and your siblings, scolds you about curfew violations, menaces your boyfriends, pays your college tuition, and maybe one day be lucky enough to give you away at your wedding. If Laura says no, well, I'll still pay your college tuition. After all you've been through, you deserve it." I stood up and held out my right hand. "Deal?"

Her face lit up. She stood up, held out her right hand, and shook it. "Deal, Dad!" she replied, then threw her arms around me and hugged me again.

Wow. She'd called me 'Dad'. I'd never been called Dad before. All of a sudden, I felt a warm spot grow in my chest, like my heart had expanded. I knew then that there was nothing I wouldn't do for this girl and her siblings to make them happy.

Saturday afternoon, while Laura drove the Fury Wagon to the grocery store for supplies, Olivia and I drove the Gulf Stream into town and did some secret shopping at the mall. Ignoring the threat of another scolding from Laura, I filled Olivia up on junk food and orange whip drinks. We had a great time!

Saturday night, still excited about my plans for Sunday night, as soon as Laura came into the cabin I tore her clothes off and took her on the sofa like a bunny, leaving bite marks on her neck and boobs. Then I pulled her into the shower, turned on the water and fucked her bent over from behind. She could barely say a word, I was kissing her constantly. When we dried off and got into bed, she murmured, "My gosh, Tom, what's gotten into you tonight?"

To throw her off I replied, "My two weeks is almost up, I don't want you to forget me when I leave for Santa Monica next week."

She chuckled, cuddled up and kissed my neck. "Tom McFarlane, trust me, there's no way I can ever forget you now."

I wasn't quite sure what she exactly meant by that, but I liked the sound of it. My head still buzzing, I lay there spooning with her for another ten minutes or so, then began kissing her neck and shoulders, with my hands caressing her ass and tits. She turned to me and whispered, "You are incorrigible."

She rolled on her back and guided me into her, and we coupled one last time before we fell asleep.

Sunday morning, I set my alarm to wake up at 5am before Laura and make her coffee. She woke up as I was bringing her coffee in to her. Her bed hair looked very alluring; I was tempted to get back into bed. "What's this?" she asked.

As she sat up in bed and took her coffee, the sheet fell away, uncovering her yummy breasts and I was REALLY tempted to get back into bed. She saw the lust in my eyes. "Oh, no, Tom McFarlane. Three times last night was enough," she said, wagging her finger at me. "You know I have to get ready and go make breakfast for the k**s."

"Of course, Laura, you're right," I said. "But I have a surprise for you." I pulled out a bag I had hidden in the closet.

"What's this?"

"You and I are going out to nice dinner at Drake's in OKC tonight, so I took Olivia with me yesterday and went shopping; I hope you don't mind, but I bought you a new dress and some sandals for the occasion. I trust they'll fit, Olivia helped me pick them out. Later today I'm going to drive into town and get some buckets of chicken for the older k**s' supper; Olivia will feed the little ones while we're gone."

Laura's eyes got wide, and she smiled with delight. She peeked in the top of the bag. "I like the color," she said, 'I'll have to try it on after the k**s are off playing and the little ones are napping." I leaned in for a kiss, then tried to kiss my way down her neck. She playfully slapped me.

"You're like a jackrabbit, you sweet perv," she teased. She took her coffee cup and walked into the bathroom for her shower; I tried to follow but she closed the door and locked it to keep me from convincing her to come back to bed.

We needed to leave for the restaurant at 5:00pm, it would take at least an hour to get there. I had been in the cabin getting ready, putting on the suit and tie that I'd brought with me in the Gulf Stream. I walked into the kitchen; "Ooooh, you look so handsome," Olivia commented. "Mom is almost ready, she'll be down in a minute."

I heard her footsteps on the stairs, and she walked into the kitchen. "How do I look?" I heard her say. When I looked up, my eyes nearly fell out of my head; she looked incredibly gorgeous. I'd bought her a strapless tube top maxidress, with a skirt that went down to the floor. It accented every sexy curve she had. While we were at the mall, Olivia had picked out some high-waisted Spanx briefs to go along with the dress and complement Laura's figure; she'd also picked out some open-toed sandals and a matching clutch purse. Laura's red hair was no longer in a bun, it was down over her shoulders, shining.
Ava took one look and shouted, "Mama, You look like a model!"

"She does indeed, Ava," I said, "and I'm the lucky guy who gets to take her to dinner." I offered my arm. "Madame, if you will permit me," I joked.

"I will indeed," she replied, wrapping her arm around mine. I walked her out to my RV, then abruptly went around it. Behind it, blocked from view, sat a new 10 seat Ford Transit passenger wagon. "What's THIS?" she exclaimed.

"Just a little something for this woman I know, to carry her family in style. I had the local dealer deliver it. I was able to pay cash. I got my annual bonus two months ago, it's been burning a hole in my bank account, so here we are!"

She shook her head in disbelief. "I don't know what to say!"

"Don't say anything! Just get in, and we'll go to dinner!"

Dinner at the Drake was fantastic, of course. She had the Chilean sea bass, I had the grilled sea scallops. I offered to get a bottle of champagne, but she opted for just orange juice. After dessert, while we were sipping coffee the moment was right; I went old-school and got down on one knee. Her eyes were wide, like she didn't believe what was happening.

"Laura Palermo, two weeks ago I left Chicago enroute to California. On the way, I made a detour, and suddenly my destination changed. I met you and your family, and I quickly realized I was right where I wanted to be." I held up the open box, the ring somehow shining bright in the dim lights of the restaurant. "I want to marry you and make your family OUR family." Her eyes were shiny with tears. "Also," I added, "please say yes you'll marry me because if you say no you won't, then everyone in the restaurant will laugh and point, and I'll be super embarrassed."

She took the ring and slipped it on her finger. I stood up, pulled her to her feet and kissed her. Just like in the movies, all the restaurant patrons and staff applauded.

We sat down, holding hands now, unable to take our eyes off each other. "Did you really think there was any way I was going to refuse you," she asked, "when,: she counted out on her fingers, "one, you've made me feel like the sexiest woman in America; two, you've treated all my k**s like they were your own since you walked in the door; or maybe three, every time you look at me, you make me melt with those puppy-dog eyes of yours?"

"Frankly, I was worried; you'd said you weren't sure if you wanted to get married again."

"You made me sure, darling."

"How did I do that?"

"You specifically asked Olivia for her blessing before you proposed to me. Do you know how special that made her feel? For the first time in her 16 years, she felt truly valued by an adult male. Then you showed you really meant it by telling her you wanted to be her father."

"Actually, I want to adopt all the c***dren, if the family is OK with it."

"I understand, but Olivia was the one you went out of your way to ask. The icing on the cake was your promise to pay for her college, even if I said no to your proposal."

I was a little shocked. "Olivia tod you that? It was supposed to be a secret!"

"What? Of course she told me you silly man, she's my oldest daughter and we have no secrets. The fact you offered without wanting me to know shows how much you genuinely care about my Olly. After all this, how could I not be crazy in love with you?" She pulled my hand up and kissed the back of it; my heart felt ready to burst with joy!

As we lingered over our coffee, I told Laura all about my plans for our future; how I'd already begun drafting some rough plans for an addition to the main house to add more bedrooms, because as they got older, the k**s would need their own rooms. I also told her I'd be talking to my boss Monday about using Oklahoma as my home base. I could fly in and out of Will Rogers Airport just as easily as O'Hare, and I'd build an addition to the cabin to use as my home office when I wasn't travelling. Another big plus was I'd be adding the k**s onto my company health plan coverage, so they'd be getting top-notch medical care coverage.

We paid the check and walked back out into the parking lot. We'd have made it a lot faster, but I had to stop and kiss my new fiancée every few feet (and also maybe squeeze her yummy ass) and remind her I loved her. You know, just in case she forgot during the long 60 foot walk back to the van.

I opened the passenger door for her, then walked around to the driver's side and got in.

"Tom," Laura said softly, "How many passengers did you say this van can hold?"

"It's got seating for 10, so with you, me, and the k**s we'll have one extra seat."

She opened her purse and handed me something. I turned on the dome light. It was an early pregnancy test stick, showing positive.

She murmured in a low voice, "Remember our first night together, how I told you I was diagnosed as hyper-fertile? Looks like we're going to need that extra seat." Words cannot describe how thrilled I was, and how suddenly turned on. I had to raise the steering wheel a bit, so my hardening dick had some clearance.

"I think that test may be wrong," I said, smiling. "When we get home, let's make extra sure it's right."

Laura leaned over and kissed me passionately, teasing me with her tongue on my lips. Caressed my hardness though the cloth of my slacks, she whispered, "If there's a deserted rest area on the way home, my love, we might not even need to wait that long."