The summer eventually fizzled out into the gathering gloom of autumn, and the kids went back to school, but they stayed close; most weekends they were with us, or we went to see them in Portishead, the seaside town in North Somerset Lizzie had chosen to live in, a short way down the M5 motorway. The beach at Portishead is a summer beach not too far from the mouth of the Severn Estuary, and so at the end of the season everything was closed, but it was nice to stroll along the miles of golden sand on the occasional sunny day and watch the big Atlantic rollers come in up the Bristol Channel as the weather in the North Atlantic gradually worsened at the closing of the year. I’d hoped to get some time off over Christmas, but as most junior consultant on the general surgery team, I drew the short straw in the Annual Leave lottery, which meant no real leave until probably near Easter, late March or early April. I got to spend Christmas at home with Lena, Lizzie and the children, and Aunt Doreen, and then they’d all gone to Cyprus, while I went back on rotation until after New Year; while everyone was busily singing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ I was knee-deep in work, learning the intricacies of triple-bypass surgery.
I did get some interesting and intriguing news, though; after my conversation with Emma about my aunt and missing cousins in London, I’d asked a few colleagues in the hospitals in and around south and south-west London if there were any correlations with the names Sandra Lois Jameson, Julie Jameson, or Mark Jameson. A Julie Jameson, aged 13, had been treated in St. Georges, Tooting Broadway, for a cracked cheekbone sustained during a volleyball game; that had been five years ago, so she was eighteen now. Her next of kin had been listed as a Mark Jameson, aged sixteen. That made me pause; the coincidence was too compelling. Julie and her brother had been in South London five years before, so there was a chance they still were. The next time I saw Emma I’d pass it on, and she could take it from there.
Lena, Lizzie and the children came home just in time for the start of school after the Christmas holiday, and I finally got Lena to myself at last. I was jumping with anticipation, as well as talking sternly to a cock that wanted to jump out and ravage her there in the Arrivals Lounge; I think Lizzie read my agonised expression, soundly deflecting Marcus and Allie’s request to come back and spend some time with Lena and me, instead persuading them that Lena was tired after the flight and she didn’t want to be entertaining after such a long flight. Lizzie insisted on taking a taxi back to Portishead, while giving me the dirtiest wink I’d ever seen…
So once again I was driving my baby home from the airport with an unruly erection not helped by the sight of Lena’s smooth thighs barely concealed by the short, tight skirt she was wearing, but I did manage to get us home safely, unloaded her luggage sedately and carried it in, then leaped frenziedly on her. I think I broke my personal best for getting naked, with Lena not far behind, which was surprising considering she was wearing so much less than me; Clark Kent couldn’t have got out of his clothes faster, phone box or not, and finally I had her delectable peach of a bottom in my hands. Lena was no less hot, rubbing her bare mound relentlessly against me as we kissed voraciously. We didn’t even make it up the stairs, even though we tried; as we got as far as the bottom tread, I lifted her to carry her upstairs, her legs wrapped around my waist, and she just dropped herself down onto my straining cock, impaling herself on me in one move.
All thought and plans for a leisurely build-up to the Great Bedroom Seduction Scene went out of my head as her hot succulence engulfed me, my gasp matching her groan of fulfilment as she sank down on me, taking me in all the way. I spun around to put her back against the wall so I could pummel her, Lena moaning and biting my shoulder as I hammered into her, my senses all at full stretch as we fucked, the first time I’d ever done it this way with her. Lena was in a world of her own, little gasps in time to my thrusts into her was the only sound from her, but the pulsing, squeezing sensation in her pussy told me just how much she was getting from this. Those same sensations were doing things to me, making me hot, making me want to empty myself into her over and over again, need overwhelming conscious thought as we pumped and ground against each other, until;
“Ooooh God, yesss, yesss, fuck me, Darryl, yesss, YESS!” she screamed, her pussy clamping tightly around me as her orgasm roared through her, her whole body quaking and shuddering with the force of her release.
Her orgasm triggered my own, my cock swelling inside that succulent, velvety, vice-like grip as the ripples in her pussy milked and squeezed me, and my own orgasm crackled through me, centring at the juncture of my thighs, hot bolts of seminal fluid pulsing out of me in what felt like an endless stream, each pulse of my cock a sweet agony of sensation as I poured myself into her. My eyesight dimmed, and my ears rang with the force of my ejaculation, my whole being centered on the rigid cock jammed balls deep inside her, pumping my seed into her, my lover, formerly my sister and my aunt in one perfect package, now only the mother of my child and the love of my life, my only and forever.
Our mutual storm passed leaving us weak and drained, bodies and limbs twitching in reaction to the stress we’d put them under. I sank to my knees, taking Lena with me, leaning back on my hands as she knelt straddling me, her arms around my neck as she held herself against me, her heart beating a rapid tattoo against my own. We sat like that while we calmed and got our breath back, Lena stirring first, kissing the tip of my nose as she grinned happily, if a little blearily, at me.
“Holy Shit, Daryl, we have got to do that again before baby-bump gets too big!”
I grinned back, my eyes widening as I suddenly really saw what I’d been seeing all along; she was over four months along, well into the second trimester, and she was beginning to show; not a lot, still a barely noticeable curve and swell to her erstwhile flat tummy, barely a baby bump, and easily mistaken for normal feminine rounding, but it was there; there was my baby, finally making his or her presence felt! Nothing more would do but that I must slide her off and up a little so I could kiss her adorable rounded tummy and finally say hello properly to my baby. I’d seen the initial scans, but they had been unrevealing, showing little more than areas of dark and light and a fluttering little heart, doing nothing except confirm we were having a baby and that there were no detectable risks to mother or baby.
“Next Wednesday, Dar, my first 3-D Ultrasound scan at the Ante-Natal clinic, and this time, you’ll be able to tell if it’s a boy or a girl; that should make baby shopping easier!”
I continued to gaze adoringly at her belly, picturing her as our baby grew and developed inside her, imagining how she would look with a swollen belly, finding the mental picture stimulating and arousing; she was mine, and she was having my baby. My life was perfect, with only one cloud hanging over it; I was going to lose my dad, soon. But, he’d come to terms with it, and showed me how to do that as well. I was never going to be okay with it, but I wasn’t skirting the edge of depression and despondency any longer, and I had Lena, and baby bump to look forward to in the coming months, and family we loved and who loved us. I wanted to do something special for her for dinner, and maybe celebrate baby Morgan finally showing up.
“What would you like to do for dinner, baby?” I asked, and her eyes lit up.
“I want a big slab of steak, seared on the outside, blue on the inside, glazed with blue cheese, smothered with button mushrooms fried in butter, duchesse potatoes, a warm salad, and lots of chocolate to follow, and I don’t mean Death by Chocolate; I’m talking Genocide by Chocolate; clinically inadvisable amounts of chocolate, Dar, I want people on the other side of the globe to faint with envy when they hear what I had for dessert!”