“Oh yess, Danny, yess, just like that…” she moaned, but when I pushed my pointed tongue between her fragrant labia, she almost convulsed with shock, grabbing my head reflexively before relaxing and instinctively opening her smooth elegant thighs to allow me even further access to her secret places.
“What are you doing to me… oh yess…” she murmured, more a sigh than a vocalisation as I sank my tongue even further into her honey pot. “You’re so bad, Danneeee…” she sighed, “just don’t stop, baby.”
As I had no intention whatsoever of stopping, I just kept going, revelling instead in the litany of softly worded pleas and entreaties from my girl to keep doing what I was doing.
Sherry was gasping and hitching harder now, as I bored in, lapping at her softly fragrant pussy, feasting on the sweet spicy earthiness of her arousal until, when I lashed her clitoris with my probing tongue she gasped and sighed as her thighs clamped around my head. Her pulse drummed in my ears as orgasm swept through her, making her sweet pussy tremble and convulse under my lapping tongue, with each stroke of my tongue setting her off on another spate of trembling ecstasy.
“Stop, Danny please no more… please I can’t, no more baby boy, please… ” she quavered, her skin sheened with fragrant summer sweat, the tang of her scent mingling with the sweet musk of her arousal into a heady cocktail, her own unique scent-complex.
“Fuck me Danny, please, let me give you this,” she whispered, pulling me closer, and it was but a moment’s work to slip between her thighs, to kiss her as she fumbled me into place, and her long, drawn-out sigh as I slipped into her tight hot succulence.
I didn’t pound her, I would never do that to her, I could never just fuck her. She was the girl of my dreams, the pinnacle of all my needs and fantasies, the most precious thing in my entire universe. No, I made love to my girl, to the girl I loved, had always loved, the only girl I would ever love. When I came, my heart and soul melded seamlessly into hers, our bodies in perfect harmony and counterpoint, our mutual orgasm fulfilling and ecstatic, familiar, yet brand new and glorious.
When we fell away from each other such a feeling of fulfilment, of final connection swept over me, and, from the look in her eyes, I knew Sherry was feeling the same thing, the same understanding; it was our moment of mutual epiphany.
“I changed my mind, Danny; make babies in me that way, please.” She smiled, and I smiled and kissed her, tasting her sweet lips.
“When you’re ready, baby-girl, we’ll make all the babies you want. I can’t wait, Sherry, we’ll make our babies and be happy forever, I promise!”
Sherry smiled sleepily at me.
“That’s all I wanted to hear, baby-boy,” she murmured blurrily. “Now that we’ve planned our own family, I think we should meet the rest of mine,” she grinned, more asleep than awake. “Let’s make it happen, Danny, let them know, please. And now, warm me up, baby-boy, I want to snuggle… ” she yawned, falling asleep almost the second she stopped talking. I pulled the covers up over both of us and that’s all I remember.
*****
Friday morning, and the moment of truth had arrived. I’d called and gotten the address, plugged it into the GPS in my Capri, and now we were there, in Streatham, South London, just off the South Circular road. The house itself was a large red-brick Victorian semi-detached house, four stories high, with tall windows and elaborate cornices, with a double garage built onto the open side, and a medium-sized mature front garden with a chequered tiled path leading to the front door. The large, imposing front door was itself a work of art, ornately decorated, fine-grained wood, dark-stained and waxed and polished, obviously original, with inset panes of stained leaded glass depicting fanciful maidens carrying ewers and shepherdess’ crooks, high Art Nouveau and of the period. Sherry looked up at the house, then even further up, taking it all in.
“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…” she began, but I’d already rung the doorbell.
“We can’t back out now. I told your cousin Nia we were coming, everyone’s here just to meet you… ”
The door swung open, and there in the doorway was one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever seen, obviously Eurasian, and absolutely stunning, her beautiful almond eyes were the same intense blue as Sherry’s and her tumbled hair the same deep, glossy black. Even her pale skin and the faint, faint spray of freckles across her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose echoed Sherry’s. These girls were family, I could see that immediately.
“Sherry? Please, come in, come in!” She smiled, even her voice beautiful, at once sweet and thrilling. “And you must be Danny, hi, I’m Nia, we spoke earlier, welcome to our home, please come in and make yourselves comfortable. Everyone’s here, we’ve been so looking forward to meeting you, you have no idea!”
We followed her into a large, classically-proportioned sitting-room with several people rising to their feet as we came in. The first one I noticed must have been Nia’s mother; they were almost identical, except she was tiny, but just as exquisite as her daughter. She had the same jet black hair, same almond eyes, only brown, same expression. She came toward us and took my hand in one hand and Sherry’s in the other.
“So pleased to meet you, my name Anh, and you are welcome in my home, please to take a seat!” She smiled, urging us into the centre of the group of people waiting for us, first introducing me to a tall young man with the same bright blue eyes as Nia, but with hair a dusty golden-brown rather than black. He was maybe the same age as Sherry, although it was hard to tell, especially when he grinned; when he did that he looked like a mischievous schoolboy.
“This my son, Jamie, and these my grandchildren. This Laura, and little Jamie, and little baby-girl Julie-Anh, my little princess-girl. They children of Nia, very pleased to meet you too!”
Jamie was a very good looking, affable guy, who seemed to be taking all this in his stride by the way he grinned when we shook hands, and I decided I liked him; he seemed like a good sort. Sherry, though, seemed a little overwhelmed at meeting so many family members after thinking all her life that I was all she had, and Nia’s mother picked up on that.
“Please, come, sit, you eat something, it not good travel so far on empty stomach, you wait, I get you something!”
Sherry tried to protest but Nia’s mother good-naturedly overrode her and bustled out.
“You may as well go with it.” Jamie grinned. “Mum won’t give up until she’s fed you, so just eat and enjoy, you’ll like it, I promise!”
Jamie introduced us to the other people in the room, a petite pretty little blonde girl by name of Julie, and her husband, Mark, a tall, blond man maybe the same age as Jamie, but who I didn’t see was an older man, Sherry’s Uncle James, the man we’d come here to see. Nia seemed to get this, because she smiled at us.
“Daddy was here just a second ago. I think there was something he forgot, something he wanted to show you. Ah, there he is!”
The door swung open and there was the face I saw in the photograph, older, obviously, but still him, and those tell-tale trademark Morrison blue eyes. James was a tall man, almost the double of Jamie, and there was no mistaking the gust of pent-up emotion as he gazed at Sherry.
“Rosa…” he murmured, patting Nia’s hand as she slid her arm through his.
“I… I saw you on the news and I nearly choked, you were so much like your mother, but to see you here and now…”
Two tears ran down his cheeks as he gazed at Sherry.
“So much like her… so much…”
By now Sherry was welling-up as the man’s emotions battered at her.
“U… Uncle James?” she faltered, holding out her hands. James took her hands, and that broke the dam. Sherry’s tears overflowed, running unheeded down her face as her only living relative found her and connected with her. Suddenly, she was enfolded in his arms as she wept in his shoulder. The girl Nia was also teary-eyed, huddled in the crook of her brother’s arm as she watched her dad find his missing family.
After what seemed an eternity, I felt an arm through mine, and looked down to see Nia’s tiny mother smiling up at me.
“Come, you sit with me. It is good, much they must find out; James and his sisters very close, it hard for him to lose them, to lose Rosa. She just a girl when she taken from him, maybe now his heart will find peace, it has been too long for him. You come, sit with me, we wait, there much to talk about, much to say, much to learn, let them have time, yes?”
She was so sweet, so persuasive, and so much like Mum I just couldn’t resist her. Her voice was almost hypnotic, the cadence of her speech compelling, almost musical, and I found myself telling her about myself, about the events leading up to Sherry appearing on that news broadcast, our life together, and our life before, things I had had no intention of sharing with a stranger, who Sherry was and what she meant to me, but with her it seemed normal, natural to share it all with her.