The Beach House – Revisited
Introduction:
A continuation of the story . . . .
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The Beach House – Revisited
Dave Keelson sat at the outdoor patio table, his mind completely lost in thought. He was reliving the months heâd spent at that secluded beach house with Mary Ellen Glasser, the woman that had rescued him from her lakeside beach, almost a year ago. For him, there were many warm memories of the time theyâd spent together as he dealt with his amnesia, the result of having fallen overboard off his father-in-lawâs yacht. While he had spent the year trying to regain his grip on life with his wife, Linda, Megâs memory still haunted him.
âYou havenât heard a single word Iâve said, have you Dave?â his wife burst into his daydream. âWhere is your mind now?â She looked at him quizzically, then her expression changed to one of realization. âYouâre still thinking of that girl, arenât you? The one that pulled you off the beach.â
The last year had been one of adjustment for both Dave and Linda, with the realization that theirs was more a marriage of convenience than one of love. He had married in hopes of accessing her fatherâs fortune, and she was someone that needed a husband to show off at the many social functions they attended. Over the lifespan of their relationship, they had come to a mutual agreement that allowed each one to exist in their own fantasy world while still maintaining an outward appearance of being a couple. It looked good to the rest of the world, but for the Keelsons, it was all window dressing. Dave considered their marriage to be an example of âquiet desperationâ for both of them.
âYeah, I guess I amâ Dave confessed. âNothing against you, Linda, but that girl showed me more warmth and love than either one of us has found in this sham of a marriage. But I made you a promise, and Iâll stick to it unless, or until, you release me from it. Still, I canât seem to get Meg off my mind.â
âSo why donât you call her? Your heart certainly isnât here, thatâs for sureâ Linda snapped, the bitterness in her voice unmistakable. âJust donât let anyone find out that youâre fucking some sweetie on the side, and weâll keep on doing things the way we have for the last seven years. God knows, though, why sheâd want a guy like you. Youâre about as much fun in bed as a wet blanket. I canât remember the last time we made love that I felt satisfied afterwards.â
Dave thought about what his wife had just said, and had to agree with her. Even the sex between them was all show. Heâd play with her nipples until the biological lust kicked in, then stuff his cock in her cunt and pump himself until he climaxed. After that, it was a case of roll over and go to sleep, for both of them. She inspired his desires about as much as a hand covered in warts, stroking itself up and down the length of his shaft.
âLinda, how long are we going to keep this farce going?â Dave turned to her, the frustrations of his mind leaching into his words. âItâs not working for me, and I doubt itâs any better for you. Wouldnât you rather be with someone that you could share some real love with? Itâs for sure that Iâm not the man of your dreams, and Iâm not so sure thatâs ever going to change, for either one of us. This feels like itâs as good as our marriage is going to get.â Linda just stared at her husband, the words in her chest stuck there. She remained silent for what seemed like ages, then just as Dave was beginning to hope the peace and quiet would last, she caustically answered him.
âDave Keelson, are you threatening to leave me?â Lindaâs biting voice washed over him. âBecause if you do, Iâll ruin you! When Iâm finished with you, you wonât have a pot to piss in! If you think Iâm going to tolerate the embarrassment of a divorce, think again. Iâll smear you from one end of this town to the other, long before Iâll let anyone know that this arrangement was anything but a real marriage!â With that, she began to rise up in an attempt to depart this scene of emotional conflict.
âLinda, sit down pleaseâ Dave commanded in a soft but firm tone. âThis bullshit has gone on long enough, and itâs not doing either one of us any good. Shit, look at us! Iâm in love with someone who might as well live on the fucking moon, and youâre becoming a dried up old cow! And the hell of it is, youâre an attractive woman â until a guy gets to know you. That cynicism of yours turns a guy right off. If it didnât, youâd probably have potential lovers lined up from the front door to the far end of the driveway. Face it, me staying here with you isnât doing either one of us any favours!â
Linda had resumed her seat at the table, and now studied her husbandâs expression, seeing him in a way sheâd never allowed before. He was right, of course, but maintaining this facade of theirs was more important to her than any reality she could imagine. The idea of being with a man she truly loved almost felt foreign to her; it was something sheâd never experienced in her whole life.
âWhat are you proposing, Dave,â she began after a long silence, âthat we both seek extra-marital affairs? I can just see the looks on all those peopleâs faces at the country club if it ever came out! Iâd be ruined! Thatâs almost as bad as getting a divorce!â The look of horror covered her entire face.
âItâs either that, or we both admit that weâre prepared to let a part of us die inside, Linda. I, for one, am just not ready to lose something beautiful that I was allowed to have. Mary Ellen showed me a part of myself that Iâve become addicted to, and I donât give a ratâs ass what people think or say. I want that feeling back again. Hell, I need it as much as I want it. How we maintain the facade of this bullshit farce is up to you, but Iâve come to the conclusion that I want to be with her again, and Iâll do whatever it takes to do that. How you deal with it is your problem.â Linda just continued to stare at her husband, the finality of his declaration slowly seeping into her brain.
âYouâre going to leave me high and dry, arenât you? You son-of-a-bitch! â Linda finally screamed at him. âIâll ruin you first, and thatâs a fucking promise! I hope itâs worth it, just for a good fuck or two!â she spat venomously at him. He pondered for a minute before he answered her.
âYeah, Linda, I think it is. If I stay here, youâll kill my soul, and if I leave, youâll kill my ambitions. One way or the other, I canât win. But if Mary Ellen will have me, I do have the possibilities of being able to live with myself. Thatâs more than I have with you . . . isnât it.â
His conclusion was more of a statement than a question. She needed to think this one out, but her heart told her that he was right. As she continued to stare at the man that sat across from her, her facial expression turned from one of anger to a look of understanding, then became one of acceptance. She was about to rant at him again, when he threw her a curve that she hadnât considered.
âLook, I really donât want to hurt you, Linda. If there was a way to make it all work, donât you think Iâd pursue it? Youâve looked after me, in your own way, for the last seven years, although I have no idea why youâd bother. But I am grateful for what youâve given me, and Iâll always remember that part of you. Itâs just that Mary Ellen has so much more to offer in the way of emotions, warmth, and love. Iâd set you free if it was up to me, but itâs not. Itâs your call, now. All Iâm asking is for a chance to find some real happiness, and maybe for you to find the same thing I did. Can you understand any of that?â
Linda began to understand what her husband was really trying to tell her, and she found that her anger started to dissolve, to be replaced with the finality of the situation. Maybe he was right, and she might be able to find someone that truly loved her. But what that love would be like was far and a way a concept that she couldnât comprehend.
âI guess, if thatâs how you feel, Dave, thereâs not much I can do to stop you, is there?â she replied in a soft voice that betrayed her inner pain. âYouâre right, though. This marriage doesnât work for either one of us. Hell, every time weâre in bed together, I get the feeling that youâre fucking me, but making love to her. It makes me so mad that I want to actually do physical damage to both of you. Long before I can cum, I just want you out of me. The thought of having an orgasm at your hand, so to speak, almost makes me feel sick. I guess thatâs about the same as being raped, isnât it?â
There were tears welling up in the corners of her eyes, but damned if sheâd let them flow, and give him the satisfaction of knowing that she did have feelings for him. Despite her resolve, Dave Keelson saw those tears starting, and he knew, deep inside of him, that if she had ever let him see that part of her before today, they might have had a chance. But that was a case of âcould have, should have, would haveâ, in his opinion.
âIâm out of here,â Dave informed Linda, âbut if you have a change of heart, phone me? You know where Iâll beâ, and with that, he stood up and walked away, not only from the table, but from a life that had become a farce, a sham, and a lie. Linda just sat there, watching the world of illusion that sheâd created fall apart and dissolve before her very eyes. Despite her resolve, a single tear managed to escape, running slowly down her cheek as it built up momentum, finally dripping off her jawbone, and succumbing to the forces of gravity.
Dave slid into the seat of his car, an older model two-door coupe, started it up, then just sat there, thinking. Did he really want to walk away from the woman that heâd shared a part of his life with for all these years? Was Mary Ellen likely to take him back, to let him step into her life again, to give him the love he so desperately wanted and needed? The possibilities might exist in his mind, but were they realistic? He decided that there was only one way to find out, and he slipped the car into reverse as he backed out of the driveway, and into a life that was full of uncertainty and fear.
Mary Ellen Glasser stood at the sink of her kitchen, concentrating on the dish cleaning task at hand. Only a part of her mind was focused on her chore. The rest of her thoughts were of the time she and John had spent together, of the love theyâd shared for those few months, and on the hurt and pain of being deserted when his wife had driven into her driveway that fateful day, changing the course of her life. She was both angry at the way things had turned out, and hopeful that sheâd find someone else to replace the man sheâd allowed herself to fall in love with. As happened most of the time whenever she allowed her fantasies to rise to the surface, she wondered if she could ever take John back, whether she could trust him again, or whether sheâd ever get the opportunity to find out. Her reverie was broken by the sounds of her son crying for her attention, and the security of nursing from her breast. She put down the dishcloth, and went to attend to the three-month old boy.
âOkay, John-John, Mommyâs comingâ she called out in an attempt to calm the youngsterâs wailing. Picking her son up from his crib, she exposed one breast and presented it to her child, offering him not only nourishment, but a part of herself that she needed to give as much as he needed to receive.
âThere, there. See? Mommy hasnât forgotten about youâ she soothed the hungry offspring, and cradled him in her arms as he began to nurse and suckle on her offered teat. His nursing had increased the size of her breasts to the point where she had considered a larger bra cup. Where she once had a hard rime filling an A-cup, now she was almost large enough to fill a B-cup. But whether her breasts would return to their former size after she weaned the boy was something that only time would tell. For the moment, she enjoyed the feeling of the baby on her breast, and the fact that she could produce enough milk to satisfy his growing appetite. Still, it would be nice if she could retain her increased size after sheâd finished nursing.
Again, her mind drifted back to the events of the past, and the union between her and John that had created this small bundle of life inside her. If nothing else, sheâd always have her memories of those days, and the joy of watching her son grow. For now, John Allen Glasser was the reason that the sun rose and set on her little world. Her daydreaming was interrupted by the sound of gravel crunching outside, and the realization that she had an visitor. Still carrying her infant in her arms, she got up to investigate, but didnât recognize the vehicle.
And then, he opened the door. As soon as she saw his face, all the conflicts inside her erupted to the surface, fighting with each other as she tried to finally answer that one question in her mind. Would she take him back, let him into her life, and chance another round of hurt and the feelings of being deserted again? She stared at the man heading for her front door, and had no answers.
Mary Ellen began to saunter towards the veranda, inexplicably drawn to this man that had fathered her child. Sheâd never told him about their son, hadnât even attempted contact. That realization now bombarded her guilty conscience, but the truth was impossible to deny. She had her baby, and it was a gift that heâd left her, albeit unknowingly. Now it was time for him to learn the truth, but she wasnât looking forward to the scene about to unfold between them.
âHi, Johnâ she greeted him casually, with a tone that both insulated her, yet betrayed her delight at seeing him again. âWhat brings you out here?â
Dave walked slowly and carefully, but with a determination to be beside this woman that had turned his life upside down. Not until he had arrived on the veranda, and was standing beside her, did he venture an answer.
âI . . . I had to see you again, Meg. Iâve spent the last year trying to get over you, to be Lindaâs husband, to find my way back to where I was before I met you. Iâve tried, and I just canât do it. Can we talk?â he begged. It was then that he became aware of the baby nursing at Mary Ellenâs breast, and the realization took him by complete surprise. âA baby?â he questioned.
âWell, heâs not one of the forest critters from these parts, dummy! Of course itâs a baby!â The glow of motherhood radiated from her very being, and even Dave couldnât miss how happy she seemed. The question of fatherhood engulfed his features, and Mary Ellen recognized it instantly. âYes John, heâs ours. Yours and mine, from last year. Itâs not like I have a string of lovers or suitors banging down my door these days, and with a baby as part of the package, I donât foresee that changing in any big hurry. His nameâs John. John Allen Glasser, after my brother. Remember how we couldnât figure out your name when you were here, and I lent you Johnâs? In a way, heâs named after his father, too, the man I knew, and fell in love with.â
Dave lifted the edge of the cover that Mary Ellen had draped over her son, partially for his protection from the outside air, and partially to preserve her own modesty. He felt like he instantly recognized his own son, and in that few seconds, he desperately wanted to build on the bond that ran through his soul. The glazed look in his eyes told Mary Ellen the same thing.
âCan I . . . can I hold him?â Dave pleaded. âGod, he looks so much like you! Heâs . . . heâs gorgeous, Meg!â She giggled softly at Daveâs request, feeling the stirrings of what theyâd once had together returning to her heart, to her soul. It helped her to form an answer to that question that had burned inside for so many months.
âMight want to wait until heâs full, John. Your son can howl like a mad banshee when heâs cheesed off. Think he gets it from you?â she teased. The look in her eye betrayed her inner feelings towards the babyâs father, and Dave recognized that fact. It gave him a modicum of hope; hope that there might be a future for the three of them.
âHow come you never told me, never let me know?â he queried. âI would have done anything you needed, or that he needed. I thought you knew that about me.â
âAnd where was I supposed to call you? At home? Your wife would have strung both of us up, and that would have left my son . . . our son . . . as an orphan. You really think Iâd jeopardize him any more than he already was? Hell, John, I havenât heard a peep from you since she came out here and dragged you away from me. What the fuck did you expect me to do? I had my own life to protect, and now I have my sonâs too!â
âI know,â Dave began his apology, âand I canât say as I blame you. The last year has been hell for me, too, thinking about you every day, wanting to see you again, and still needing to find out who I was before I washed up on your beach. I finally made my mind up this morning that whatever it takes to be with you again, Iâll do it . . . thatâs if youâll have me back again. But even if you wonât, Linda and I are finished, through, done. Thereâs nothing between us, and I doubt there ever was, really. I married her for her fatherâs money, and she married me because she needed a status symbol of some sort. Obviously we didnât make love very often, because thereâs no kids in the marriage after seven years. Sheâs been through all the tests, at my insistence, and sheâs not barren. Iâm definitely not the problem, as you can see from that little bundle in your arms, but for some reason, her and I just werenât meant to be parents; not together, anyway. But now that I see John, I know how badly I want to be a father, and a Dad to that baby of . . . ours. So bad, Meg, that I can almost taste it!â
Mary Ellen knew she had to think about his plea, long and hard. Her heart told her one thing, but her sense of reason told her something else completely. Losing John once was bad enough. She wasnât interested in the relationship becoming a âcontest of best two out of threeâ, as far as his staying with her was concerned. As much as he wanted an answer right then and there, she couldnât give it to him. Not yet, anyway.
âJohn, come on in and letâs have a coffee. John-Johnâs about ready to change sides here, and I could use a sit-down. My little boy is getting heavyâ she invited her former lover. It wasnât what he wanted to hear, but it beat the hell out of a flat rejection. He conceded, and opened the screen door for her as they went inside.
Mary Ellen put the coffee pot on to brew, then got cups, spoons, cream, and sugar out, setting a place for both of them at the kitchen table. Dave noted in passing that she had set his place along the side next to her, and not across the table. It implied to him that she felt comfortable enough that sheâd allow him that close to her, and he felt a surge of happiness inside. They sat, waiting for the pot to finish perking.
âSo tell me what youâve been doing with yourself, besides having a babyâ Dave broke the ice. âI see youâve been keeping the place up pretty well. It looks good, too.â The opening was going nowhere fast, and he began to feel uncomfortable. This wasnât what heâd envisioned, what heâd hoped and prayed for, but it was the hand that Fate had dealt him. All he could do was play the cards in front of him, figuratively speaking, and hope like hell he didnât have to fold before the betting was over.
âYou look good, too, Meg. Every morning, I wake up and remember your face, and itâs the best part of my day. But right now, you look better than I ever remember. Whether itâs the baby, or something else, I couldnât tell you. I just know that youâre even prettier than the last time I saw you.â Johnâs words were a little flowery, but they were real, how he felt, and the truth in his heart. Mary Ellen could sense that, and inside her, she opened up just a little bit more to him. Her irrational decision out on the veranda was beginning to grow inside her hopes and dreams. But they still had a lot of lost time to make up for, and that would be the deciding factor, she knew.
âWell, besides having your son, Iâve been active with a local group of women trying to get themselves back on their own two feet. A lot of them are in a situation similar to mine, in that they have kids, and no man in their lives. Other than that, I seem to spend most of my time trying to keep this shack from falling down around my ears. Thatâs the story of my life.â Mary Ellen paused, looking at John, and wondering why he wanted to know all that. Not much had changed in the year that theyâd been apart. âSo thatâs my story. Whatâs yours?â she redirected the conversation.
âI seem to spend my time split between a job I hate and a woman that keeps me as a plaything. Iâve spent a lot of time trying to figure out what I really want out of life . . . and keep coming up with the same answer. Itâs just that I have no idea of how to get from one point to the other. I guess that makes me just about as confused as you, doesnât it?â, was all he could tell her.
âSo? What do you intend to do about it? Are you going to sit on your butt and grow roots, or are you going to actually break down and get a life for yourself?â Mary Ellenâs reply was meant as both a question and as an emotional shove. It was the only way she could think of to get John to commit to some kind of future. Hopefully, that future would include his son, and maybe her, too. It was still his decision, though, and she wouldnât push him any further than she just had.
âThatâs the reason I came out here today,â Dave replied, âbecause a life all by myself just doesnât make it for me. If it did, Iâd stay where I am. After a year of trying to get you out of my mind, though, Iâve come to the conclusion that staying where I am is too uncomfortable for me. I need you, Meg, maybe more than I realized before.â There was a pregnant pause before Mary Ellen said anything.
âAre you asking me if you can just breeze back into my life, and have things go back to the way they were?â Mary Ellen snapped. âYou know that isnât going to happen, especially with your wife still in the picture. Are you prepared to go through a divorce over it? John-John and I both need a full commitment, and we deserve it. Having you drop out of my life, then burst back in a year later is a little hard to take for me. For John-John, itâs not fair. Just as he gets to know his father, youâre gone again? I donât think so. Heâs just a little baby, for Peteâs sake, John! He deserves better than that, and Iâll be damned if Iâm going to subject him to anything less than the stability thatâs his birthright. So when you come up with a plan thatâll work, weâll see what happens. Until then, youâre just a man that I once knew, that was once a part of my life, that I once loved.â
Dave was shaken with her response, but he could see the basis for her feelings. He also knew that even if she didnât take him back, his life with Linda was finished. But how to sort this mess out? How to make Mary Ellen understand that he was finding his life empty and barren without her? He had no idea of the answer, but knew that the question couldnât be left unexplored. He stood up and walked over to where she sat, then bent over and kissed her, lightly at first, then with growing insistence. He expected her to reject him, to push him away, to want nothing to do with him.
Mary Ellen felt Johnâs lips touch hers, and immediately ignite a fire inside her that sheâd tried to smother for almost a full year. In blind response to his kiss, she opened to him ever so slightly, wanting that kiss to go on for the rest of time. She felt his tongue searching for hers, and opened a little more, inviting his kiss, his warmth, his passion to embrace her, consume her, possess her. Dammit, but even after all this time, she realized that she still wanted him. Her resolve to remain a single mother slipped a little bit more with every passing moment. In confused uncertainty, she finally broke from his lips, but didnât pull herself away from his presence.
âDamn you, John!â she cursed softly. âWhy do you have to make things so damned complicated? Just when I thought I was over you, you show up on my porch, and in my life again. And just to make things worse, you go and do something like that. Do you have any idea how much Iâve missed those lips, those arms, and you? If it wasnât for John-John, Iâd welcome you back here in a heartbeat. And yes, thatâs a confession, I guess. I do love you, still, and I probably want you as much as you want me, if not more. But this is too complicated for a simple girl like me to figure out on my own. I need time, John, to figure out my own mind . . . and my heart. I need to be a part of your life, too, and at the moment, yours is on pretty shaky ground, by the sound of it. But I do know one thing, for sure.â
âWhatâs that?â Dave asked, not sure if he really wanted to hear the answer.
âYou taste like âmoreââ she growled lustfully, and with that, she pulled him back to her hungry lips, and kissed him with every ounce of want and passion in her being.
Linda Keelson sat at the patio table, still stunned that her husband would actually leave her. While there might not be a lot of love in their marriage, she had gotten used to his being around, and a part of her life. There had never been a large amount of passion between them, yet she still found she wanted him, as much as she needed him. Their sex life might be a total bust, but it beat the hell out of the alternative — no sex at all. Not that there was a lot of difference between that and the unsatisfying trysts they did have, but still, she had to admit to herself, it was better than nothing.
Sitting and thinking, Linda Keelson could find no solution to her dilemma. She couldnât live with her husband, but she had to admit that she couldnât live without him. Was this what love was about, she wondered, this state of quiet desperation? Every nerve ending in her body told her that her life with Dave was probably a lot closer to love than anything sheâd experienced in the years of her youth. Her father had always been busy with the family business, and her mother had spent all her time serving on this, that, and the other committee, or working on some equally unimportant cause. She was an only child, with few friends. It had been a lonely time for her, and the relief that being a wife brought her began to mean more to her than she realized. As much as she had a hard time admitting it to herself, she wasnât prepared to let Dave go without a fight.
But what of that other woman, the one that had given him more than she, Linda Keelson, had ever been able to find within herself? Why would a man like Dave not run to the arms of another woman, given the barrenness of their marriage? She instantly realized that this was a battle she couldnât win, couldnât even come out with a tie. Something snapped inside her, and it may have saved her sanity.
There were alternatives to fighting, she felt, and while it might not be the ideal solution, it was far and away a lot more satisfying than the loneliness that lay before her, without the one person in the world she could be herself with, her husband.
âIf you canât lick âem, join âemâ she muttered to herself. What that meant, and how sheâd make it happen, she hadnât the faintest idea.
John wrapped his arms around his lover, holding her to him as tightly as he could, wanting to keep her close to him for as long as possible. Her lips tasted like wine to his hungry soul, but he wanted more; much more. He wanted her mind, her soul, her body. But would she give herself to him like she had before? Would she take him into her body, and back into her life? He didnât know, but he had to find out. If it was the last thing he ever did in his life, he had to let her know that he loved her dearly, that he needed her desperately, that he wanted her fully and completely. On top of all that, he needed to show her that he was hers, too.
As he held Mary Ellen to him, he persuaded her body to leave the chair and stand with him. She didnât stand, exactly; it was more like a fluid motion that only a woman can execute. She moulded into his waiting arms, letting him hold, caress, and cherish everything about her. When he leaned down to kiss her lips again, she returned that affection with a passion, a need, a burning desire that betrayed her every trace of resistance to this man that held not only her body, but her heart, too. It had been a long time since anyone had desired her, Mary Ellen Glasser, and she hungered for that feeling of being complete once more. Her arms snaked away from her side and around Johnâs neck, returning his embrace with her own want. As she received his lips against hers, she felt his tongue trace over her lightly, seeking, wanting, demanding that she give herself to him, and that she take him, as well. Deep inside her, she knew she was powerless to stop, or even slow, what was about to happen between them.
In that one moment of time and space, she didnât care. In fact, she welcomed it with everything that she was, everything that sheâd ever been, everything that she ever would be.
John felt Megâs urgency, and his own blood began to boil inside him. In an unspoken dance of love and lust, he directed her towards the back bedroom, the one that his son had been conceived in, the one where heâd found the love of his life. She made no move to stop him, or even slow their progress down the hall. Entering the room arm in arm, she spun around just before they reached the bed and grasped her former lover tightly to her, pressing her now-swollen and lactating breasts to him, letting her erecting nipples grow and harden in anticipation of his touch. Her arousal wasnât lost on him, either, as his hands slid gently from her waist to those offered orbs that heâd once gloried in before. Now they were fuller, larger, and just as inviting. John cupped both her breasts in his hands, feeling her erect nipples against his palm. He gently squeezed her soft, pliable and oh-so-smooth skin, and was rewarded with a warm flow of liquid. At first he was a little stunned, but then he realized what that warmth was from, and what its purpose was, and he would have smiled at the deliciousness of the moment, had his lips not been otherwise occupied.
Meg moaned in delight at the feel of Johnâs hands on her body, her desire building more and more by the second. She pushed herself tighter to his groin and felt his growing manhood pressing against her belly. Its heat ignited a long-forgotten flame inside her, one that she had to fuel and receive, at all costs. She let one hand slip down between them as she gently rubbed his still-covered erection with the hope that he wouldnât hide it from her much longer. His lips, his touch on her breasts, the heat of his cock, all contributed to her exploding lust, and she felt that familiar moisture begin to ooze from deep inside her, reminding her of the joy and beauty of making love to this man that had come back into her life, at long last.
Mary Ellenâs other hand reached down and undid both the button on Johnâs pants, and the zipper, letting them slide over his hips and butt on their way to the floor. At long last she could hold that part of him that she needed so much, and wanted even more. He broke their lip-lock just long enough to move his lips from hers down to her hard but leaking nipple, both twirling it with his tongue and getting a mouthful of her breast milk at the same time. It was warm and sweet, but not as warm and sweet as she was, in his heart. The realization that he was actually nursing on her breast sent a thrill through her entire body, and her lust increased even more. Even his now-hard cock in her hands felt wonderful. She wanted to feel it, taste it, lick it, pleasure it, then drain his life-giving seed from it. Instead, she held him to her chest, encouraging him to explore her body again, to take her to a place that they had both been to before. His lips left her nipple and began to trace a path down her midriff, pausing long enough at her navel to run small circles around its edge, then moving further down her belly, until she felt his tongue touch, tickle and tease her now-engorged clitoris. She groaned at the feel of him pleasuring that most sensitive place.
John let his tongue slide into her Valley of Femininity, tasting her juices, their alluring fragrance and flavour demanding that he search for more. Running his tongue down the valley of her vulva, he found her entrance, and wiggled his tongue until it began to enter her very centre. Meg gasped sharply at the welcomed intrusion, pulling his head tightly to her pussy, needing and wanting him to lick her more, to open her dripping cunt and prepare her for that part of him that she craved almost as much as life itself. He returned to her knotted nubbin, flicking and teasing it as Mary Ellenâs breathing became faster, shallower, more insistent. It wasnât more than a minute later that she felt that longed-for tingling of her sex, and giving herself completely to the loving he induced in her, began to tremble and shake. Her orgasm expanded to her belly, down to her toes, and finally to every part of her. She gripped his head tightly, partially for balance, but mostly just to hold him to her, letting him have his way with that very private place that only two males had ever been; John, when he had impregnated her, and her son, as he came out into the world.
John continued to lick and kiss Mary Ellenâs clit until she finally began to relax from her climax. As her grip on him eased, he kissed his way back up her belly, her chest, and finally to her lips. Now standing in front of her like that, she could feel the tip of his throbbing cock as it touched her slit, begging for her to allow him inside her once more. He was still someone she couldnât refuse, and she used one hand to rub his purple helmet up and down her drenched labia lips, feeling him rubbing over her inner lips, praying for admission to her core. She slowly sat on the edge of the bed, his cock now at eye level, calling her, pleading with her, fanning her flames of desire even more.
With a soft and slow movement, she pulled her lips towards his cockhead, letting her tongue re-acquaint itself with his spongy head, and the softness of his shaftâs skin. The dichotomy between that soft texture and the hardness of his manhood drew her further. She let her lips slide over the tip of him as she slowly took his manhood into her mouth. As more and more of Johnâs cock disappeared between her lips, she ran the tip of her tongue along the veins that stood out from his shaft, revelling in her possession of him once again.
âGod, Meg,â John moaned softly, âIâve missed this; the feelings you bring out in me, the closeness between us when we make love, the way you tease and pleasure me! Even the way you suck my cock is intoxicating! I want you, my Love, so very much! More than Iâve ever wanted anything in my whole life!â Despite how good she felt on his cock, John wanted to feel her soft velvety sheath capturing him, pulling him deeper and deeper inside her, the heated wetness of her. He wanted that more than anything he could think of. Slowly he pulled himself from her mouth, then eased her down onto her back, and positioned himself between her soft and silky thighs, his cockhead just touching the inner lips of her feminine gates of heaven.
âYes, John,â she murmured, âtake me. Let me feel you fill me up again, making me a complete woman again. Love me, my Darling! Fill me with your manhood . . . and your steaming seed!â With that, she rocked her hips in such as way as to slide herself over his helmet, drawing him into her, begging for him to plumb the very depths of her.
John began to slowly enter her cavern of love, the heady heat of her sex a sharp contrast to the cool air outside her body. She felt so soft, so warm, so wet, so inviting, and he felt more alive with each inch that he slipped inside her waiting sheath. As he bottomed out inside her love canal, John became aware that he was resting against her cervix once more, and the memory of their last time, its wonder and beauty, flooded his mind. This time would be better, more fulfilling, and more memorable than their last, he knew. He began to gently pull himself out, then push back to the bottom of her depths. He both wanted to fill her up with his spunk, and savour every minute possible with her wondrous femininity. As a result, he continued with slow and steady strokes, until she wrapped her legs around his waist, and began to rock her hips faster and faster, the demand for his cockâs friction overriding everything else.
John laid his weight on Mary Ellenâs slim body, holding as much of himself from crushing her as his arms would allow, holding her shoulders in a love grip that captured each to the other. His lips had found hers once again, and as they duelled each otherâs tongues, Mary Ellen increased the tempo of their love dance. Soon, he heard her muffled mewls of ecstatic joy as he pumped himself inside her, pushing against her clit, and driving her right to the edge of another explosive climax. The closer to that edge she came, the more she rocked on his shaft, and the more insistent her cuntâs grip on his cock, the more he could feel that tell-tale sensation at the base of his shaft. Even as he felt his balls lift, and his semen begin to fill his manhood, Mary Ellen mewled louder and louder, her vagina contracting and relaxing as it spasmed through the beginning of her orgasm, then she began to shake and twitch violently, holding herself tightly to her lover with her slim legs that sheâd wrapped around him. As John felt the first string of his steaming seed erupt from the head of his cock, she let out a muffled scream, stifled only by that kiss that she dare not allow to be released from her. John sang his own guttural tome of lustful fulfilment, meeting her screams with enthusiastic grunts, the resulting cacophony only driving both of them higher and higher.
For what seemed like forever, Johnâs cock continued to flood Mary Ellen with his searing seed, as she shuddered and convulsed on his shaft that she held deep inside her. It was all they could do to keep breathing without suffocating one another, and John kept stroking Mary Ellenâs blast furnace-like sex until she finally began to relax, their initial lust now evolving into that post-coital bliss that let their souls mingle as fluidly as their love juices. Rolling to one side, and taking his lover wit him, John welcomed the glow that Mary Ellen had shared with him. He held her tightly, not wanting his slowly-softening cock to ever leave the warmth of her depths. The soft blackness of sleep swept in and out of their consciousness, trying desperately to engulf and consume them both. It almost succeeded, when the silence of the beach house was invaded by the sounds of crunching gravel outside.
John was vaguely aware of the sounds, and Mary Ellen was oblivious to them. But the sounds of footsteps crossing the wooden floor in the hallway, quickly brought them both back to reality. As John was about to relinquish that delicious hold that Mary Ellen held him in, the bedroom door swung open, and there stood Linda Keelson, gazing at them with a look of almost envy.
âI thought I might find you here, Dave. In fact, if I hadnât, Iâd have been disappointed.â As she spoke, Dave noted the lack of sanctimonious sarcasm in her voice, something that even he would have expected. There was no hint of anger in her voice, nor on he face.
âMary Ellen, I know this is lousy timing on my part, but may I come in? I have something to talk with you about, and I may never have the guts again to do itâ Linda asked, her eyes pleading, almost begging. Mary Ellen could see the fear in her rivalâs eyes, but noted a decided lack of maliciousness, as well. In her present position, she really wasnât capable of refusing the womanâs request. Silently she nodded her acquiescence.
Linda walked softly to the opposite side of the bed from her husband, dragging a blanket at the foot of the bed with her to cover the two lovers.
âEven you two are entitled to some privacy,â she confessed, âand I wonât leave you both feeling any more uncomfortable than absolutely necessary.â Mary Ellen gripped the edge of the offered covering, clutching it to her in an attempt to hide her nudity. That was all the effort she could expend. Her mind was full of questions, but no words would come out of her mouth.
âMary Ellen, âLinda started, âwe have a problem. No, thatâs not quite true. Itâs me that has a problem. This man has become a part of my life that I wasnât aware of before today. When he up and left this afternoon, I realized that I canât let him go. But, as the song says, you have his heart, while I have his name. Inside, I know that heâll never let you go, and thereâs nothing I can do about that. But I canât let him go, either. As much as I hate to say it, I need to love him, too. Iâve just never learned how; not him, not any man, or for that matter, anyone else. But Dave is as close to loving someone as Iâve ever managed. So either you and I battle it out for his possession, and neither one of us really wins that war, or we come to a mutually-beneficial compromise. He has something I want and need, but so do you. Heâs my husband, but heâs your lover, and I doubt that state is ever going to change drastically. Itâs a recipe for hurt and heartache, and Iâve had enough of both in my life to want any more of it.â
For the first time since the intrusion, Mary Ellen found her voice, and the first of many questions gelled in her mind.
âUmm, Mrs. Keelson . . . â Meg started, before Linda interrupted her.
âLinda,â the woman asked, âplease? Call me Linda. Mrs. Keelson sounds so cold and formal.â
âLinda? Umm, well, I understand what you;âre saying, but how can I help you? I mean, I want your husband, and even though heâs been unfaithful, I get the impression that you want him, too. John and I have a . . . son together, and Iâm not about to lose his father to you! Itâs not just you and I any more. I have to consider my baby, and what he needs, what he has a right to know, that his father loves him, too. So unless you know something that I donât I canât see any resolution to this without someone getting hurt.â With each word, Mary Ellenâs resolve became stronger. If she had to fight this woman for the man she loved, for the man that was the father of her child, sheâd do it until the last breath of life left her body.
âYou two have a son?â Linda exclaimed with an element of shock in her voice. âMay I see him? Iâd like to hold him, if youâll let me. God, Mary Ellen, Iâm actually happy for you! Both of you, in fact! Iâve never considered having a child before today. In our marriage, it wouldnât have been fair to either Dave, or the baby. But suddenly, I so badly want to see my husbandâs son!â
Mary Ellen regarded the woman with skepticism, but conceded that Linda was entitled to see her husbandâs offspring, although she had no idea why. She peeled back the blanket that had covered her nakedness and stood up, feeling some of Johnâs cum oozing from her depths as a reminder of the love theyâd just made. This whole scenario felt completely surrealistic to her, leaving her confused and more than just a little afraid. She reached for her robe on a chair beside the bed, put it on, and looked back at the man that had given her the most precious thing in her world, her son.
âCome on, Dave. Heâs your son, too. May as well let him get used to his Daddyâ Linda invited softly, a warmth in her tone that Dave didnât remember ever hearing before. Like Mary Ellen, he felt guarded and ineffective. He lifted himself off the bed, taking the time to pull on his shorts and pants, then padded down the hall with the two women.
Young John began to fuss, little squeaks of discomfort emanating from his toothless mouth as he kicked his feet in the air. Mary Ellen picked him up, and began to pat his back as she slung the infant over her shoulder.
âI think your son has gas, Johnâ she said to the boyâs father. âLetâs see if we can get it to come up.â With that, she walked past Linda, and carried her son into the livingroom, where she proceeded to pace slowly in an effort to induce a good burp of relief. After five minutes, young John was feeling no better, and his wails let the world know that he wasnât a happy camper.
âHere, Meg,â John offered, âlet me see if I can get it up for him.â With that, he reached for his son, and taking him gently from his mother, began to rub the infantâs back as he jostled up and down softly. Less than a minute later, he was rewarded with a resounding belch, and the sounds of silence from his now-relieved offspring.
âThere, John Allen, doesnât that feel better?â his father asked the boy. âYouâll learn that Daddyâs are good for something. Guess thatâs one of âem, huh?â With the crisis now resolved, John looked at his son, and kissed him tenderly on the forehead. For that one moment, his world consisted of John Allen, himself, and Mary Ellen. For that one moment, his wife Linda was out of the equation. But only for that one moment.
âCan I hold him, Dave?â Linda inquired. Reluctantly, he passed the child to his wife. âCome on, John Allen. Come say âHiâ to your Auntie Lindaâ she entreated. With that, she tenderly cradled the infant in her arms, the look on her face one of wonder and amazement. When the baby was settled in, Mary Ellen looked at the improbable scene before her, another one of her million questions forming on her lips.
âLinda, youâre not about to give up your husband, and Iâm not ready to let him go. I may never be ready. So where does that leave us? I donât have the resources to fight you, and you know it. I donât see a solution to all of this.â Linda pondered her reply for a moment, not sure how well her coming suggestion would be received by either one of the bayâs parents.
âItâll take some work and negotiating, but thereâs only one way I can see all of us coming out of this with what we each need and want.â Linda took a deep breath, then waited until she thought the time was right to drop her bombshell of a solution.
âWe share himâ was all she said. The effect was predictable, as both Mary Ellen and John went slack-jawed. It was Meg that recovered first.
âShare? Youâve got to be out of your . . . !â she started to cry out, then as the idea began to sink in, she softened inside.
âAnd what if I donât agree to this . . . arrangement?â Mary Ellen added. There was a long silence, as Linda continued to cradle and hold her husbandâs son. Finally, she answered the question.
âThen thereâs going to be four people in this world that are going to lose. You, me, Dave, and little John Allen here. I know it sounds a little bizarre, Mary Ellen, but to be honest, Iâve spent so much of my life being a loser, Iâm sick of it. I donât want to give up my husband, any more than you want to give up your lover, and the father of your son! So before you reject the idea, take some time to think about it. Like I said, I doubt Iâll ever have the guts to even think about suggesting something like this again. I spent all day going over the possibilities in my mind, and that was the only idea that I could see that might work.â Linda reached into her purse and took out a business card, then scribbled some numbers on the back. âThatâs my private number. Take a couple of days to think it over, then call me? Please?â she begged. Mary Ellen took the card, her mind in a complete fog, and Lindaâs next comment left her floored.
âDave, Iâll leave it up to you whether you come home tonight or not. Oh, and if you do, maybe bring Mary Ellen with you? Itâs a big house, and thereâs plenty of room for all four of us. We might as well get John Allen here used to the idea of having two homes to live in.â
With that, she returned the baby to his motherâs waiting arms, kissed both Mary Ellen, and then her husband, and turned to leave. Mary Ellen and John were speechless, but John Allen just smiled as he cooed a fond farewell to his new Auntie.