Shirley Gets A Fucking From Steve
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Shirley JeanChapter 12 free porn video
At the beginning of April, we were sitting in our giant bathtub, sharing a bottle of wine, when Connie's cell phone rang. It was a Friday night about 11:30 pm, and we'd just gotten home from our date. Connie stepped out of the tub and answered.
"Hello?... Uh-huh... He what?"
This last was said with a tone of incredulity I've seldom heard matched.
Then, "We'll be there as soon as we can. Call it an hour, okay?" She put the phone down very gently and turned to me. "We've got to go. The cops are holding Sarah and Donna."
I stood and asked, "Why?"
"Because David Prentice is an asshole!" she shouted.
I'd never seen her this mad; I didn't get out of the tub and start getting dressed until after she'd left the bathroom. I quickly threw on some jeans and a shirt, and slipped my feet into my boots. We met at the door and climbed into the station wagon. Connie jabbed the garage door opener viciously and we drove off.
It was about seven or eight miles down Washington Street from where we lived to town. There aren't that many houses on the street, and they're widely separated by acres of lawns. At that time of night, most were dark too, and I felt a shiver of fear.
Very quietly, I asked Connie, "What happened?"
"That was Terri on the phone," she said. "The cops called her when they found out the shelter was full. She called us."
"What does she want us to do?" I asked.
"Good fucking question," she muttered. The angry look on her face prevented me from saying anything else.
Less than two minutes later, she pulled the car over to the side of the road and parked. She shut the engine off and turned sideways in her seat.
"I have a confession to make," she said. "I hid something from you."
"What?" I said. I really didn't think I wanted to hear this.
"I looked up the other girl, Donna, when we learned that Sarah had been fostered by the Prentices. She was given up for adoption as a baby; she has no family at all. She's been in five different foster homes since she was six years old."
"So?" I asked. "What does that mean to us?"
"It means I'm scared to death of asking you the next question, but I have to. I don't have a choice." She paused for a moment, then continued, "Remember the night I rubbed your stomach and told you you'd look beautiful with a big belly?"
"Yes."
"You remember when Sarah left, it made the house feel empty?"
"Yes, I do," I said.
"This is a chance to get her back, and maybe keep her. I want a family, and I think you do too. My question is, can we take both of them? Are we ready to be parents?"
I sat in the passenger seat, speechless. I missed Sarah, yes, and I felt pity for Donna; no child should grow up alone. In the blink of an eye, hundreds of questions threw themselves at my addled brain. Could I do better than my mother? How would our sexual preference affect them? Could we adopt, or foster? Should we? Is a regular family better suited to the care of preteens? My head started aching.
Finally, I said, "It's possible, I think, but why now?"
Connie said, "In the first weeks after we met, you didn't always spend the night with me. When I was alone, very often I'd wake up in the middle of the night, frightened out of my wits. I'd cry, wishing someone—anyone—was in the house with me. At the time, I really didn't know how you felt about me; I didn't learn that until you moved in with me."
I slid across the seat and held her; she was crying. I didn't say I'd done the same thing. Now we were together, and it might be time for our family to grow.
Her crying slowed to sniffles, and I leaned back. "Do you want to take them both?"
With tears running down her cheeks, she said, "We ought to give them a chance."
We stopped by Denny's and used the restroom to clean up. With two large coffees-to-go, we drove to the cop shop.
The officer on duty buzzed us into a carnival-like atmosphere. The foyer was piled high with suitcases, duffel bags and assorted other junk, apparently the kids' belongings. The girls were being fed ice cream and candy bars by a group of officers that surrounded them on all sides, laughing and joking.
Sarah saw me and launched herself at me, screaming, "Shirrrrrleyyyyyy!"
Donna was slightly more reserved; she ran toward me and hugged me.
When the tumult calmed a bit, Connie and I drew both girls into a corner and asked, "What happened?"
They kept interrupting each other, so by pointing to one and then the other, over the next hour or two the story became clearer. Mr. and Mrs. Prentice were moving out of state, and the girls would have to find a new home. With no notice whatsoever, Mr. Prentice had dumped the girls and their belongings in the parking lot of the LEC and told them to go inside. The officers, aware of their responsibility, had taken them to Harbor House. The officers had found it full, returned to the LEC and called Terri. From Terri, the trail had led to us.
I spotted Travis at the edge of the crowd and waved him over.
When he got close enough to be heard, he said, "Hi, Jeanie. What's up?"
"A little rescue, that's all," I replied.
"We checked their house; it's empty," Travis said.
"So they're really gone?"
"Seems that way."
"Can you help me load their stuff into the wagon? We'll get out of your hair."
"It's a slow night tonight," he replied. "No problem."
About fifty kisses, hugs and good-byes later, the girls were sitting on some of their baggage in the back seat and we were headed home.
Connie said, "I'm gonna get even with that sonofabitch one day. You wait and see."
"What sonofabitch is that?" I asked, smiling.
"The one that ruined my perfectly good bath, that's who!"
It was almost four in the morning before we got the girls settled in their rooms and quieted down. Connie and I were sharing the rest of the wine on the couch in the den.
Connie said, "You think we fucked up?"
"No," I said, "but I would've liked a few more minutes to get used to the idea."
"In the morning, I want to sit down with them and ask some hard questions. They have to want to be here just as badly as we want them here. That might be a problem."
"We'll see, won't we?" I asked. I drained my glass and added, "I think we ought to finish our bath. You wanna join me?"
Connie smiled and took my hand.
I woke up about ten o'clock and slipped my robe on to go make coffee. With the girls in the house, there would be no more walking around nude. I peed, brushed my teeth and shook Connie awake, warning her to put on clothes. She stuck out her tongue at me, but she put on her pajamas.
After hurriedly drinking one cup of coffee, I went to wake up the girls. Donna's room was empty, although her bed looked slept in; I walked through the connecting bath to Sarah's room and found the first surprise of the day.
They were in Sarah's bed together, under the covers. Clothes from the night before were strewn across the floor, along with their toiletries and stuffed animals. The room was a disaster area. I debated whether to make them clean the room before breakfast or after, then asked myself, "What would their mom do?" I woke them up as gently as possible and told them to come down and eat.
While we waited for their arrival in the kitchen, Connie and I talked.
"They were both in the same bed, and the room was a mess!" I said.
"What did you expect, Jeanie?" Connie asked. "They haven't even been here twelve hours. Let's tell them what we want from them and see what happens."
The girls came running into the kitchen and stopped short when they saw my face.
"Are we in trouble?" they asked in unison.
Connie said, "No, ladies, you're not. Have a seat and we'll get you some breakfast."
Connie got them milk and juice while I scrambled some eggs and cooked some bacon. When the toast popped up, I put their plates on the table. They ate and chatted with Connie, and I looked them over.
Sarah had grown a bit, maybe two or three inches in height, and her hair was down to her shoulders. She was wearing jammies that were a little snug, and I could see her body had grown as well. Her pale skin and red hair made her a very pretty little girl.
Donna was wearing her pink bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. She was a little taller and bigger than Sarah, with longish brown hair and big brown eyes. Her complexion reminded me of heavy cream with a dash of coffee. I thought she might be a little shy, because she let Sarah do most of the talking.
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