Omnia Vincit AmorChapter 2
- 3 years ago
- 47
- 0
The Passing Years
Once again John returned to his empty house, but the feeling was not as depressing as the previous times she had departed. In fact he smiled to himself thinking This is becoming a habit! Things were now more on an even keel and he could sense Claire’s marriage was on track for the future.
He reflected she was more at peace, and comfortable with her life. Having thought the last time she left that it was the final time they would see each other, he now wondered if and when she might turn up again.
Lfe returned quickly to normal this time, having been disrupted only for a weekend. While he felt more balanced, and more at peace in himself now Claire was settled back into her marriage, there was still a wistfulness underlying his feelings, a feeling of love lost.
So Spring turned into Summer.
Previously when he went to the barbers the inevitable question ‘Going away?’ as in ‘Where are you going for your holidays?’ had occurred.
“Not going away,” he had replied to the barber’s surprise. “I’ll visit my children, but since my wife’s death, I don’t feel like going on holiday alone.”
Then came the man’s embarrassment and his condolences.
John resolved that in future he would say he hadn’t made a decision yet, which saved discomfort.
He did visit his children, staying a few days with each and enjoying the discomfort on James’s face when he wondered about grandchildren!
“All in good time, Dad,” his son would say.
“Don’t leave it too long,” John would reply. “I want to be still young enough to play with them!”
James would rapidly change the subject.
For the rest of the summer, John drove to beauty spots or stately homes, or went hiking in the hills. He realised that were he to stay in a hotel, he would feel the absence of his beloved Elizabeth all the more keenly, and it was still too soon.
Autumn gave way to winter with its grey wet days, and a low sun in the sky, shining through skeleton trees.
Of course, Claire came to mind, as she did when he sent off her Christmas card, addressed to both her and Peter, and when her card arrived, it had a short letter enclosed.
My Dear John, (that tugged at his heart strings a little, and he grinned at the feeling).
I feel a little guilty at not writing before; but time has flashed by, what with my teaching job and looking after the family.Everything has settled down now, except for Thomas who refuses to have anything to do with me, apparently blaming me for his divorce. It seems Sharon would never have left him if I’d not given her the idea. The rest of the family laugh at him, and he hasn’t much of a sense of humour, indeed he’s not got a lot to laugh about any more. No one sees much of him. I try from time to time, but get the brush off. Sharon still keeps in touch with us all, which in turn keeps us in touch with the grandchildren. Did I tell you she was divorcing him?
Mary gave birth to a lovely little boy in October, so I’m a Grandma again! Elizabeth married Noel in the summer. They married in a civil ceremony which Peter didn’t like much, and obviously Thomas didn’t have anything to do with it, but Peter is mellowing and becoming more tolerant. I think he rather enjoyed the wedding.
As to that, he is just about cured of his jealousy, and at last realises that I love him and am not looking for anyone else – even you! (Joke). He often says he wishes he’d got therapy much earlier. He says he’s never been happier, but is sad at the missed opportunities in our past years.
And – get this – he now accepts that you and I didn’t have sex (no, sorry, make love – or have sex!), while I was with you. I told him in great detail of the nights I spent in your bed with you, including the last naked one – it was during our couple’s meeting with Lieve, and carefully structured. He didn’t like it, but said later that paradoxically it convinced him of my faithfulness.
He admires your moral stance and restraint! More to the point he realises that I love you as well as him, and amazingly is OK with that, as long as I don’t leave him for you!
Come to think of it, that may also be the real reason why I’ve not contacted you before. I always tell him who I write to, or phone, but then I always did. I think that while he was still in therapy, it wouldn’t have helped if I were writing to you.
Anyway, thanks to you and your kindness in that terrible time, our marriage is pretty safe now, and Peter agrees with me about that, so at the beginning of December we formally gave notice to the court that we were reconciled and were no longer proceeding with the divorce.
So our marriage is back on track and you will always have our gratitude for supporting me.
By the way, if you ever want to use the house in Grange-over-Sands, there’s a key with the nearest neighbours, Mr & Mrs Seddon. You met them, and they know I’ve OK’d any visit you want to make. That applies if you want to take James, Clare, or Catherine. Ellen knows to let you know if they’ve booked it.
George isn’t interested, he never goes there. I think there are too many memories for him bound up in that house, though he doesn’t mind being a part owner and paying a share of the bills. He says he feels content that the house is still in the family.
I hope you have a wonderful Christmas, as good as the one we all had last year. Fond memories of your family mingling with mine. Give my love to your family.
Much Love
Claire (and Peter)!
John held the letter and re-read it. It gave him a warm glow of satisfaction, of happiness that Claire had found peace in her marriage, but mixed with a deep feeling of emptiness. He knew why. He had fallen in love with her anew, and there was always that secret hope, which he had always firmly rejected and tried to suppress, that she would return to him. The clear knowledge that now she never would, and the loss of her, was mitigated by the knowledge that he had helped and supported her in her quest to save her marriage.
He sighed and made his own plans for Christmas. On Christmas Eve he went and helped prepare the homeless hostel for Christmas dinner the following day. That year his children joined him on the day, and though Elizabeth’s absence was still felt, everyone agreed that while spending the feast at Grange the previous year was wonderful, and helped so soon after her death, this year it felt good to be home again.
Life went on and gradually he had become more used to sleeping and living alone. He never lost his feeling of loneliness but stoically bore it. He knew after Claire that he would now never want or search for another woman to take Elizabeth’s place; he would live out the rest of his days alone. In a strange way that gave him a sense of contentment and enjoyment of the simple things in his life. He became quite an expert gardener and often commented to Elizabeth (to whom he felt especially close in ‘her’ garden), that he hoped she liked what he had done.
Three more years passed, and then his life was changed again by a phone call one Thursday mid-afternoon in late September.
He had always sent Claire and Peter a Christmas card with a brief message detailing news of his children, including James and Julie’s first baby boy and Clare’s marriage to Luke, and while receiving cards in return, those contained nothing but a signature. That was the sum-total of their communication, which disappointed him.
The phone call set in train a new course of events and more emotional upset for him.
It was of course Claire and she was panicking. “John it’s Peter! I don’t know what to do!” she shouted down the phone.
“Tell me,” he said quietly.
“He’s collapsed he’s lying on the floor. He’s making noises.”
“He’s alive then. Have you called an ambulance – told them what you saw?”
“Yes, they’re coming.”
“Is he conscious?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Talk to him, stroke his cheek. Does he react?”
There was a short pause.
“He’s sort of straining, mumbling, he’s staring but I don’t think he can see anything.”
“What does his face look like?”
“Sort of lop-sided.”
“It sounds like a stroke. Just be with him, talk to him, soothe him. You did the right thing; there’s nothing else you can do. He needs to be in hospital within an hour.”
“The ambulance is here. Thanks.”
The call ended abruptly, at which John was not surprised. What he half-expected was a follow up call giving an update on Peter’s condition, but when none came that day or the next he shrugged and let it go. He knew that recovery can be very slow and not always complete, and assumed Claire was wrapped up in visits to the hospital and then the process of helping him recover at home.
Weeks later, on Tuesday of the third week of October to be precise, he received an email in the afternoon.
Hi JohnPeter was at death’s door for quite some time, while the hospital tried to dissolve the clot in his brain which was a very large and serious one. There was worry there would be other clots circulating round his body. The problem was that the longer it took, the more damage was done to his brain, and the less likely it was he would fully recover.
He’s back home now, but he’s badly damaged. His speech is very slow, and he finds it hard to find words. He’s forgetful. His left side is paralysed so he limps badly and while there’s some movement in his left arm, his hand is badly disabled. The left side of his face is paralysed and has dropped, so eating is difficult.
The worst thing is that he’s not fighting it. He’s badly depressed and nothing I or the family can do seems to help. He’s told me a number of times he wants to die. He says he can’t cope with being in this state for years; he’s only fifty-nine. Obviously, his strong faith won’t allow him to consider suicide or euthanasia (which is legal here), so he’s stuck in abject despondency.
I’ve been busy with him. I’ve had to resign from my job to look after him, and it’s so hard to keep cheerful around him. He’s not eating much, I have to cajole him, but he’s losing weight and I’m frightened that this, along with his depression will lead to the worst possible outcome.
Thank you for your support and advice when I rang you in a panic. Once again you came good for me. I hope you understand why it’s taken so long to send this.
Claire.
John sat and read the email again, then a third time. He wondered what to do, and, should he answer it, what he could say? In the end he shut his laptop and made his evening meal.
Over the following weeks his thoughts would turn to Claire from time to time and the terrible situation in which she now found herself, but he did not send any reply, thinking there was nothing he could say. Nevertheless, whenever the phone rang his first thought was that it was Claire giving him the worst possible news, but it never was.
As Christmas approached, John sent a card as always, adding a note expressing his sadness at Peter’s illness, and assuring them of his prayers, and received one from Claire, but as usual it simply said ‘Love from Claire and Peter’, nothing else, and he understood she had no time or inclination to write. He was touched that Elizabeth and Mary both sent him cards, which he was able to return with thank you notes since they put their sending addresses on the back of their envelopes.
After spending Christmas Eve at the hostel, he attended the Vigil Mass and remembered his own dear Elizabeth. It was then that Claire and Peter also came to mind, and he said a prayer for them and their family.
Christmas Day was spent in the same way as the previous year, and this year he visited James and family with the girls and Luke, since James’s was now the family with a youngster.
Again he kept Elizabeth’s anniversary in January, and was comforted by his children who visited him at that time. Catherine stayed with him for a whole week.
Winter turned into Spring and Easter came and went. He became busy tending to the garden as growth took off and weeds grew faster than flowers, as they always do. Summer followed and he again faced the question of whether to take a holiday away, or stay at home. This year, he felt like a change, though he had done nothing about it.
It was at the beginning of August when his daughter Clare made a suggestion which got him moving.
“Dad,” she said, “After your generous help with the deposit for our house, and now that we have a huge mortgage to pay, Luke and I can’t afford to go away this summer, and Catherine doesn’t know Gerry well enough to take him on holiday alone with her. We’ve all got time off next week. We were going to spend it at home, but then I had a thought.
“Didn’t Claire say we could use the house at Grange? I loved that Christmas when we were up there all together. You need a break Dad, wouldn’t you like to invite us to stay there with you for a week if it’s vacant?” She grinned cheekily at her impudence, and the idea suddenly appealed to John.
He phoned Ellen.
“Ellen it’s John Pollard, I wonder–”
“Oh, John, isn’t it so sad? And everything was going so well.”
“Sorry? Sad?”
“About Peter?”
“You mean his stroke?”
“Claire’s not been in touch?”
“She emailed me last October, but I’ve heard nothing from her since.”
“Oh dear! John, I’m sorry to say that Peter died just over three weeks ago. We’ve just got back from the funeral. I’d have thought she would have ... I wondered why you weren’t at the funeral, I mean after all you did for them.”
“No, she’s not been in touch. Was it unexpected? I knew about the stroke, because she rang me when it happened, and she emailed afterwards to say initially he was in a bad way. But usually people recover, at least in part, and with medical support they can usually stave off any recurrence. I assumed he had recovered at least to some extent.”
Ellen sighed. “Peter had a second stroke in March. It further affected his speech and his ability to find words. He was very distressed and how she coped with him then I don’t know. He was incontinent and though he could feed himself slowly he often left his food, so she had to feed him. The children rallied round, but she’s worn out.”
Claire caught the evening flight back to her husband and family with no problems, until, that is, she came though arrivals and looked for whoever was meeting her. She suspected in her bones that there would be trouble of some sort when she arrived. Peter had not phoned her at all, though the children had, telling her that they could not understand why she was staying away. She told them nothing, saying all would be explained when she returned, if their father had not explained it to them...
It had been just over four weeks since Claire had left John Pollard’s house, and John was once again used to being alone. He had been grateful for Claire’s presence and for their long talks, which he thought had been consoling for both of them. He had bade farewell to her hoping she had found a new way of living with her husband. He followed his routines. It gave structure to his life. He had also stayed for a while with his son James. James and Julie had made him very welcome, and it was...
The phone awoke the house early on Thursday morning. Claire answered and called to John to pick up his own. The police officer handling his case was ringing to tell him that Peter and Thomas were now in transit from Cumbria to the city and would be brought before the magistrates at two that afternoon. John as the victim was welcome to attend. The constable went on to say that if they pleaded guilty the procedure would be over that day; if not guilty, they would be remanded, probably in...
Note: Since John’s daughter is also called Clare, to avoid confusion his daughter’s name is spelt without an ‘i’: e.g. Clare, throughout the remainder of this story. On Saturday, the last day of July, Claire had letters ready for attachment to emails. She had written individually to each of her children except of course, Thomas. In them she explained gently what had happened, where she had been and why she had come to John’s house again. She had wondered as she wrote if compassion for his...
When the doorbell rang on Sunday morning, Claire grinned at John and went to the door. She opened it to find a young woman and a man. “Hello, you must be Clare,” she said brightly, “and this will be Luke. I’m Claire Klinsman.” “Pleased to meet you, Mrs Klinsman,” said the younger Clare with a smile, as the pair shrugged off their rainwear. Outside there was a fine drizzle. “I’d say call me Claire, but that might be awkward. My second name is Deborah, so perhaps I can be Claire D?” “D’you...
Though all her other children had replied to Claire’s email, there had been nothing from Elizabeth, and Claire felt the loss. Each day she had hoped for something the next day, but there was nothing from her. “I’m worried about Peter,” she said over coffee that morning. “From what the children say, he seems very depressed.” So he damn well ought to be, thought John, though he said nothing, but massaged her shoulders and back. “D’you think I should write to him?” she asked plaintively....
Claire daily looked for a reply from Peter to her letter, but none came. After a week she gave up. She sighed and at breakfast she told John of her decision. “I think it really is over, John,” she said. “I can’t go on like this. He’s not going to talk with me, and I need to get on with my life. I hoped I would get some sign from him to give me some – any – hope we could repair things, but I see now that’s unrealistic.” “So?” John’s voice was soft and affirming. “So I begin divorce...
Christmas lights had festooned town and city streets for some weeks already, and the news of the decree spurred John to ask about her plans for the feast. “I don’t know,” she answered him. “I wonder what the children have in mind. None of the children have kids of their own apart from Thomas, and he’s not talking to us. The whole family used to come to us. But I don’t know now...” “Same here. All mine live in striking distance, but Cath and Clare would come here and stay over.” John...
As January days progressed Claire became more and more morose, and more taciturn. John knew he could do nothing for her: it was her problem alone. He simply looked after her, and she often smiled her thanks. On the afternoon of Friday the 14th of January, the Friday before Thursday the 20th when she could apply for the Decree Absolute, the phone rang, and Claire being nearest answered it. John was in the kitchen, and heard what transpired. He heard her gasp of surprise and was ready to join...
Claire phoned Simon and told him she would not be applying immediately for the Decree Absolute. “I’ve had a last minute visit from Peter, and he’s getting therapy,” she said. “So I’ll delay until I’m certain there’s no hope.” “Fine,” Simon said. “You’re the boss, and I think you’re right. After the Final Decree there’s no going back. You can’t undo it. You’ll feel better in yourself if you’ve given the marriage every chance,” That evening, there was another phone call. This time John...
Claire emerged into Arrivals Reception pushing her trolley with two huge cases, two smaller ones, her laptop and some duty free bags. She searched those waiting and then saw Peter standing among the crowd. He simply stood. He did not wave to catch her attention and his face seemed emotionless, neither happy nor sad, though certainly not eager. She made her way to him and stood before him, the trolley between them. She looked enquiringly at him and he seemed to awake and stood aside. “Let...
On the other shore of the North Sea, Claire Klinsman lived from day to day much as John had in the early days of his bereavement. She had returned to work at the same school, and ran the ‘English for Adults’ courses in the evenings, and that filled her days. With all the children gone as well, she could not face cooking meals for one, and consequently lost weight. She had written to John that the house seemed to echo with emptiness, but she knew that in reality the loneliness was within her,...
Both Claire and John, on their respective sides of the Channel, found themselves with no preparations to make for Christmas, other than buying presents for their families. Both had tried to take part in the organisation of the holiday, and both were gently but firmly told to relax and leave it to the children. Phone lines between the two families would have been hot as tasks were assigned by Mary, if all the calls and texts weren’t by mobile. The dark December days passed quickly. Mary, her...
When John arrived at the Benedict Joseph Hostel and Day Centre for the homeless on Saturday morning, Christmas Eve, he was prepared to follow his usual routine, serving lunches and clearing, while the full time staff got on with Christmas preparations for the next day, but he was met at the door by Brother Lawrence, the Franciscan prior and manager of the place. “John! We’ve got big problems. I have four of the friars with ‘flu, Barry got ‘flu on Thursday, and now Derek and Vivienne have...
Paulus quietly entered the RCR, sneaking on the tip of his toes so as not to be detected by the only other person in there, his well-to-do older brother. Pressing a few random buttons on his way past, just for the shits and giggles and because he knew how it infuriated his by-the-book sibling, he crept up behind Valentinus until he was no more than an inch away from his gleaming white robe, preparing to give him the fright of his life. As he silently raised his hands, preparing to jump on the...
Gay MalePaulus quietly entered the RCR, sneaking on the tip of his toes so as not to be detected by the only other person in there, his well-to-do older brother. Pressing a few random buttons on his way past, just for the shits and giggles and because he knew how it infuriated his by-the-book sibling, he crept up behind Valentinus until he was no more than an inch away from his gleaming white robe, preparing to give him the fright of his life. As he silently raised his hands, preparing to jump on the...
It was late and the house was asleep, all except her, of course. Being asleep at 3:00 a.m. might be an option for everyone else, but she had long ago accepted her nocturnal nature and had even come to love the long hours before dawn. This was her alone time. Her only complaint was when the insomnia kept her up for more than three consecutive nights. Seventy-two hours without sleep tended to depress her and, on those lonely nights she would often stand at the door staring endlessly into the...
I had a lot of trouble sleeping after Matthew left.We had never cuddled in bed, and he snored, but I still slept better when he was there. I could not sleep on his side of the bed (what used to be his side of the bed) for months after his departure. My feet got cold, and then too hot after I put socks on. The bottom sheets kept creeping up the sides of the mattress, becoming lumpy under my legs. My back muscles ached and my shoulders would not relax.I started reading before bed until my...
SupernaturalI had a lot of trouble sleeping after Matthew left.We had never cuddled in bed, and he snored, but I still slept better when he was there. I could not sleep on his side of the bed (what used to be his side of the bed) for months after his departure. My feet got cold, and then too hot after I put socks on. The bottom sheets kept creeping up the sides of the mattress, becoming lumpy under my legs. My back muscles ached and my shoulders would not relax.I started reading before bed until my...
SupernaturalAndrew awoke with a start. He sat up looking around for his alarm clock in a desperate frenzy, still reeling from the dream he had just escaped. He finally found it, hidden beneath the blanket he had tossed aside in his sleepy panic. Two-thirty am flashed at him in the form of bright red numbers. He ran his hand over his unruly dark hair and sighed. He’d had the dream again…flashes of violence and that cold dark room playing over and over through his brain. Andrew tried so hard to suppress the...
Calvin dragged himself up out of bed for the fourth time that night. The curtains were open, the midnight-blue sky sparkling with stars as the sharp crescent of the moon shone light into his sparsely furnished hotel room. So tired…so damn tired… But still, someone out there held tight onto the gift of unconsciousness, refusing to bless him with it. Calvin moved to the window and looked down at the city below him. All those people tucked away in their beds, sleeping soundly, without a damn care...
Harold stumbled down the hall at 3 in the morning with sleep consuming his mind. His wife had gone to bed early with him that night, both falling asleep quickly after a long days hard work. For hours, he had tossed and turned until he, finally, woke up in a sweat. For months he had been having horrible dreams about him doing naughty– even evil– things to his daughter, causing his marriage to suffer and his physical well-being to deteriorate. He had not told the woman who he had been married to...
"I walk a vast sky, blue and free. Do I fly? I know not, but I move. Forward and forward. Into what I cannot say?" "Is that me? My voice? My skin?" The arms in front of you are flesh and hair. "Me...Me...Me..." You cannot tell. Where are you? Where am I? Who am I? "Who...Who...Who..." The clouds are like shards of glass, sharp and jagged and reflective and bold. It feels smooth as they stick in with each step. "Seeeeee." See The sun's rays bounce against the clouds. They reflect into a...
MatureSmash, followed by some drunken mutterings; another typical Friday night, no doubt there would be a broken booze bottle on the foot path. I'm starting to get fed up with these stupid yobs. Getting dressed and grabbing my Billy stick I went out to confront them, Wifey's away visiting her sister so she won't be able to run interference this time. "Righto fellas, time to move on." "Fuck off you old git, you can't tell me what to do." Stupid was half pissed and could hardly stand up...
When the cum finally stopped draining out of me I wiped myself and struggled to my feet. I wasn't sore exactly. But I was exhausted and parts of me were very tender. I tried very hard not to think too much as I took a quick shower and dried and brushed my hair. I brushed my teeth and put on a little lipstick. Then I stared at myself in the mirror. It still looked like me! But these things I was doing! That wasn't me! And then I was at my front door, trying to figure out why I would do...
The mailroom is in the basement. I've never been down there but I knew where it was. I also knew that I was about to get fucked again. I got to my feet and struggled to walk normally on rubber legs. Kenny pushed me ahead of him and said, "Let's go. You know where the elevators are." I felt him lift the back of my skirt as he followed me to the door of my office. He dropped it as I started through the door. It wouldn't have mattered. No one was around to witness my humiliation. He left...
I made myself as presentable as possible considering the blouse I was wearing and accompanied Karl out of the subway station and down a quiet residential street. We walked for four long blocks before we reached our destination, a nice one family home on a quiet side street. We went to the front door and Karl opened it without even ringing the bell. I followed Karl into the living room and stood, looking around nervously at the two men leering at me and ogling my breasts through the sheer...
I awoke early the next morning. I had slept nearly all day Saturday and all of last night. Between all of that sleep and that wonderful orgasm he gave me I felt almost fully recovered in the morning. I lay there in the darkened room just before dawn and thought about Mark. For the moment the sexual harassment at work, the way I behaved on the subway, even the time I had spent with Ian and Craig were no more than slightly disturbing but strangely exciting events in my past. Karl and the...
The next morning we got ready for work and we talked over a cup of coffee. He told me again that if I didn't want to take the chance I could stay home. He even offered to take care of me. I thanked him for the offer. And there may come a time when I want to take him up on it. But we both knew that the main reason that I was going to work was not for the money. I assured him that I would call him if I got into trouble. I was embarrassed to admit once again that I was excited by the...
By the time I saw the note it was nearly lunch time. I had hardly any time at all to dread what would happen in the mailroom. To be honest, though, I was excited about getting fucked by Gordy's magnificent cock again. I had been raped, molested and sexually humiliated all morning. I reacted to that sort of treatment in what was now the normal way for me. I became sexually aroused. It was only a few minutes before my three co-workers got up and, ignoring me completely, they left for the...
Mom’s face was flushed from the whole thing. “You people just go ahead with whatever you want to do. I’m going for a little swim to clear my head. I don’t want to always be the one saying ‘Stop’, it just feels like it is my duty to keep up standards of conduct.” “Go ahead and swim, Sis. It will cool you off and give you a chance to clear your head. Don’t worry about us. We are all adults here. What we do is our own responsibility. I have to go in and check on something. Jim, can you give me...
Stepping into the building vestibule, Stephanie Morgan shook the water from her umbrella. It had only been a little over two block walk from the bus stop, but she had gotten soaked nevertheless. Opening her raincoat, the 24 year old blond made an attempt to shake that dry as well. It had been bad luck that her brother Jerry's car had picked tonight of all nights not to start up. He had promised to drop her off at her friend Rachel's new apartment. No matter, she reluctantly concluded, at...
Yelka pressed his shoulder against the wall, touching his temple against the cold stone and groaning softly. He remained there for a few moments before he slid along the wall, approaching the oak table and dropping his body, which felt like wet sand, into the chair. He stared at the wood of the table for a moment, tracing his fingernails over each smoothed-out knot illuminated only by the weakened moonlight. He continues to trail his hand over the tabletop until he touches the stone lamp at...
I was just finishing up my plans for my trip to Sturgis this year when my phone rang. I got a cocky smile across my face when I saw it was Laurie calling. When I answered her call she told me that her kids were off with their dad for two weeks and was wondering if I had any free time. I began telling her about my trip to Sturgis. “Oh, that sounds like fun, Dan, I’ve always wanted to go there,” she said with a hint of eagerness to her voice. “Would you like to come with me,” I asked. I could...
HardcorePart Ten of 12 Lays of Xmas, the full novella version. Eleven is about 80% finished, but here is where I hit a wall for a while. Work, y’know? Any similarity to any persons living, loving or otherwise – well – you know who you are. Oh, and Happy Birthday, baby. * * * * * The Twelve Lays of Xmas Ten Lords A’Leaping The apartment was still and peaceful the following morning. I left Jessica lying in bed, curled in the warm centre of our divan, a faint smile on her face. In the middle of the...
This story comes after our relationship with Tre had ended. He ended up meeting a really nice lady and when they got more serious in their relationship, he decided that the wonderful thing we had going had to come to an end. His new love was not into open relationship and sharing her well- endowed boyfriend.After that relationship ended, we both decided to take a break on it and really focus on our marriage since it seems that we were caught up into such a tornado of passion. My wife also joked...
Introduction: I wanted to watch my wife with another man. I got more than I asked for. Julie and I were married a year ago. We have had great sex as she has been game to do almost anything with me. We are always trying different positions. She sucks like a vacuum cleaner and she is already ready and very willing and comes easily and often. There is one place where she has always drawn the line. I have told her many times that I would love to watch her being fucked by another man. She always...
I didn't really mean for it to happen, it just wound up that way. I will blame a little alcohol. Here is a little about us. My sister (Dee) and I live with my mom. The parents have been divorced since we entered out teen years. My sister is 18 months older than me, so she's a year ahead in school. My sister was always the cheerleader, homecoming queen, miss popular. Her friends were mostly the cheerleaders, so a lot of hot girls! She is 5'6, medium length brown hair and hazel...
One of my best friends is Jessa. She’s a pretty girl. Her tits are at least 42D, her ass looks like a speed bump on her back, and she’s still pretty skinny. She’s got green-blue eyes and straight red hair with black tips that runs halfway down her back. I’ve been friends with her since our freshman year in highschool. Recently, I’ve started to notice Jessa’s body more. I’ve been wanting it. So last night I invited her to hang out. *** We started out at a little bar that never had...
Thin prisms of light break free from the cloud cover, dance through the north-facing windows of an old English inspired Tudor, bounce off the carved crystal bowl resting atop a marble table across the bed from me and come to a check-mate style stand off right there. The swirling energy of light, throbbing and pulsing against it’s constraints, all dressed up with no-where to go, rouses me from my dreaming tree. Silent and dim, save the puddle of brilliance above me, the room goes lacking....
Hi friends jesa ki aap logo kabatya tha ki me vapas apni stories ko puri karunga. apne vade ke mutabik aap logo ki khidmat me hazir hu meri pahli stories me muje bada response mila khas females ka jo muje mail bhej kar meri stories ki vah vah ki. kher me apne naye dosto ko bata du mera naam bobby he jesa ki mene bataya tha ki ham logon ko sam 7 pm ko vapas lotnatha aur mene kaha teeno ko ki chalo ab hamara kam to khatm hua aur chudai bhi ho gai he tum log ab ghar jane ki tayari karo ab sham ho...
8.15 pm, The Bungalow"That was exquisite," said Prem, smiling approvingly at the panting duo that lay, arms entwined, chests, bellies and pubic regions still in copious contact, on his lavish queen-sized bed. The male was a good-looking athletic young man of 18. More than his body, his youthful face was a dead giveaway that he was significantly younger than the female. This is not to say that the woman looked over the hill -- far from it. Had she looked like most other 41 year-old women, she...
I stop outside the bathroom door, feeling myself getting wet as I think about what’s about to happen. I smile and open the door. The sound of the water in the shower gets louder as I step into the room and softly close the door. The shower curtain hides you from me…and vice versa. I quietly make my way up and peek around the edge of the curtain knowing what I’ll find. You sit on the bottom of the tub, the water pounding over your neck and back. My body stirs at the sight and my breath catches...
Straight SexIt's been six months since we returned from our original timeline. Billy and Maria are going to be parents. Lisa has decided to wait a little while so she can help Maria. They have conspired to alternate years for children. I convinced HAL to help make that happen. Billy now has 5 other wives and they all adore him. I certainly am glad I was able to bring them along. The village is getting bigger every week as more groups of people apply for residence. We've had to build more public...
"Krista" is kind of a bitch, opinionated and delusional in her relationships. Don't get me wrong, I can be cordial with her and make small talk, but most of the time I'm good with her never being around. Until we all went camping...It was summer, the circle of friends and I all decided to head to up to a cabin to get away. And of course "Krista" would be there too. For what it's worth, the first night wasn't bad at all. We drank, hung out in the water and relaxed by a campfire. The next morning...
After Layla (Ariel X) was caught for DUI, her old coach and Nina (Nina Hartley) offers her a coaching job at her gym. For a pro wrestler like Layla it’s a demotion, she doesn’t have many options. Some people, like Paula Ford (Charlotte Stokely) are more than happy to welcome the legendary Layla to the squad, for others like Sophie Smith (Sinn Sage) it’s an occasion to learn from the best, but for most of the squad it means more work and physical labour. Layla pushes these...
xmoviesforyouI had dated Diane for about three months, all was well, and we had an exciting and intimate relationship, as any basically vanilla one would be. She was an educated, 42 year-old professional woman, 5’3′ tall, 110 pounds, bright blue eyes, and long silky blonde hair, a rock hard stomach, and beautiful tight 34 “B” cup breasts of a teenager and a 22-inch waist. She dressed impeccably, but with a hint of edgy sensuality that was unmistakable. On one of our early-on dates, she wore a very tasteful...
Cadance checked her phone, the hint of a smile crossing her regal features, as she contemplated how to spend the day. It was a gorgeous late-summer afternoon in Equestria. She'd slept in, made herself look good, savored brunch, and was ready to tackle the day. Admiring her reflection in her phone, Cadance knew she looked good. The epitome of aristocratic pony breeding, the princess' flawless pale pink skin, flowing gradient hair, and perfect features were usually enough to spark the interest of...
“So they banded together on their first day ... Vermin!” Lying naked on the bed, Guard Chou Ferk smoked a violet cigar and puffed purple smoke that he then inhaled back from his nostrils. On the floor lay, quivering, the gorgeous slave woman, also naked, bruised and bleeding. Soon, Guard Chou Ferk will leave and the tavern’s Elite Ranked prisoner manager will give her something to recover before a new patron will seek “entertainment”. “No rush”. Guard Chou Ferk continued to talk to himself,...
"Uh oh," Trilium whispered to Noia. Noia turned and followed his gaze. Captain Landsruhl was talking with one of the Hostigi soldiers; probably their commander. Captain Landsruhl looked upset and he was staring at Noia and Trilium. "Come along, Noius," Trilium said. "I think that Hostigi officer has heard of you." They'd gone only a few steps when Hestophes stopped Trilium. "Look, I know we owe you; I swear I'll tell the captain myself. But this isn't the time for...
I've got some pictures she used to send me which i will add very soon.When i was at college there was this girl i used to fantasise about. she was in my art class and we'd sit and chat most lessons. Her boyfriend was the typical popular dick. Yrs passed and i totally forgot about her. And then the myrical thats is facebook was giving to us.lol. She's just split up from her estranged x. And had been craving a disant cock for a while. She'd had a few sexual partners but no one who could compare...
Dedicated to David I love you David was sitting on the bed behind me, his chin resting on my shoulder and his arms around my waist. I was telling a story to my tireless six-year-old, the Energizer Bunny of first graders. He was looking up at me, eyes just like his fathers, with rapt attention as I told him a Dr. Suess story. I finished my story and David got up to tuck him in while I gave him a kiss on top of his curly haired head. His father said goodnight and left for one last check on our...
Jean Robinson was the first contact I ever had on a Dateline computer date. Her name and phone number was on a list of six names I was sent and I phoned up and had a chat.. We made a date and a few days later I picked her up outside her house in Norwich and we went in my car to a nearby pub for a drink and a chat. Jean was a dark haired lady in her late 30's, slim about 5 ft 6 ins tall, of average looks, dressed in a white blouse and black pleated skirt. We spent a couple of hours in quite...
Mature------------------ Merlin Gwendydd - sister Morgenau - brother Morial - brother Morien - brother Mordaf - brother - Naci's father ----------------------------------------- Lying down for the night I was awake for a while as several ideas were floating through my mind. Obviously I was going to have to change tactics. With all I did I didn't really think that any of the tricks I had pulled would really fool any of them much longer. Reaching out I once again made sure that all...
Joan and I have been swinging now for over 7 years, in that time we have had a fair share of fun, we have always played as a couple, but it has always been my fantasy of letting Joan play while I am out and to give me full details when I return, (even though I said to do it I didn’t know how I would react if she ever did) I have asked her many times to do this but she has always refused, that was until last Friday. I went out with family to watch a game at the millennium stadium in Cardiff,...
This story is dedicated to my great friend BobbyLynn. I met Bobby when I was 18 and she was 9. I had just moved to Ohio from North Carolina. I was living with my older brother in his little two bedroom house. I had just graduated high school and was planning on going to the local Tech school to take auto mechanics. I already knew quite a bit about cars and spent most of my free time working on them. My brother, Todd owned his own auto shop and was letting me work for him doing what I did best.
She was wearing a black lacy thong, with a sexy black dress which was lifted up around her hips. Laying on her back on the bed, looking so sexy, she was moaning around a thick cock which was shoving itself in and out of her throat. Legs spread wide, and feet dangling in the air, she was moaning loudly as she was brutally fucked into again and again by a massive black cock. As she was pleasured, the cock entering her was nearly ready to seed her, as with a grunted sounded, yet another load of...
FantasyI woke with the memory of what Wynne was saying as I fell asleep. What was wrong with Morrigan? Had something happened as they exited the ruins? I groaned as I sat up, and immediately felt an arm wrap around behind me, supporting me. I turned towards the source of the support. "Aedan? Wha..." I cut off. It wasn't Aedan with his arm around me. It was Alistair. His handsome face looked down at me, closer than I'd ever been, and I was momentarily struck dumb. I blurted out the first thing...