How Green Was My Valley was the story of a war bride from Cardiff, in the UK, who came to America with a GI. It was in the form of a letter to her daughter. At the end the narrator says the daughter came along as a surprise, 18 1/2 years after her other children, and also says they’re going to have to have “The Talk” soon.

—

My darling daughter,

You asked me if you were a mistake. I’m writing this to collect my thoughts on the matter, but I can say unequivocally: you were not a mistake.

You were however, a surprise as I said. All those years ago, after Megan, we made the decision to use natural birth control, otherwise known as the “Rhythm Method”. If I put on my health educator hat for a minute, we have a joke:

Q: What do you call a girl who uses the rhythm method?
A: A mother.

We fully expected to conceive again. Even if we were perfect in using the method, we knew that the chance of conceiving again is something like 3-10% per year. So over 20 years, we’d probably have another child, but that’s a slower rate than the 100% a year we’d managed with your brother and sisters. It had been so long since we started using the method, without conceiving, that we were a little shocked when you did come along, but in no way were you a mistake.

What I will say is you were conceived in love. I was crazy about your Dad from the first day I met him, I was still in love then, I still love him now. I may be biased, but I still think he is the kindest, most gentle, and most handsome thing God put on this green Earth. You would be blessed if you found yourself a man who could hold a candle to him.

So fourteen years ago, we found ourselves alone, for the first time since we could remember. Megan was away with her friend Kirstie and Kirstie’s parents for spring break. Luke and Lynne were doing their own things for the break, the house was eerily quiet, it was just us two for the week.

It was my birthday, so it’s April fools. For once I thought I was going to get a good birthday, your Dad took us out for a very nice dinner, but I was just thinking of what was going to happen later. I was looking forward to him making love to me. As I said, I’ll get wet just by him smiling at me. He smiled at me a lot that evening. Some of it may have been the drink though, he drank a tad too much and fell asleep when we got home. Sometimes I could agree with my Da about the demon drink, as he called it. Well my thoughts were anything but angelic right then!

That was a disappointment, but we had all week, and nothing to do, but each other. (Yes, I giggled like a school girl when I wrote that.)

I woke up before him and got up to make breakfast. I may be old fashioned when I say, I like serving your Dad. I like cooking for him, I really like serving him in every way. Feminists might be horrified at that, but feminism is about empowering a woman to make her own choices. This is the choice I made, for me. I will say, whatever your dealings with men, you should always make your own choices, make sure to follow your heart.

So I cooked some of his favourites, pancakes, bacon, and put on some coffee. Those are also things which make a nice aroma to waft into the bedroom, where I’d left the door open. I was wearing my pinny, it’s short, and nothing else. I’d have done it nude, but one thing I had learnt over the years is never cook in the nude. Take it from me, that’s a painful lesson to learn yourself.

So your Dad arrives, rather bleary eyed, and pours himself some coffee. Then, I bring over the food and he notices what I’m wearing, or maybe what I’m not wearing. He pats me on the bum, and I wiggle it at him. His hand goes up between my slightly spread legs (not a very ladylike stance I’ll admit), and he touched my cwm (I still call it that; I could never call it anything else now, no matter what other words come along!) He ran his finger through my slick tingling lips, I was literally dripping wet, I’d been thinking of little else all night. But thinking was all I’d done, well, mostly. I tried hard not to touch myself, because I wanted to relish and revel in every moment of our time together. I hadn’t slept well.

Snapping me out of my daydream, your Dad stood up and moved close behind me. I could feel his robe had fallen open, feel the warmth of his skin against mine, feel his twr pressing against bum, nestling in. Slowly he began to slide back and forth in the groove. His hands crept in to the sides of my pinny and he began to fondle my bosoms. I felt his breath in the crook of my neck and as he nuzzled, the hairs stood on end, goosebumps and tingles crept everywhere making me shiver with lust. His expert fingers on my bosoms worked their magic and as I closed my eyes lost in a haze. I almost came right then and there. When he whispered sexily in my ear “Wasn’t there something I was supposed to give you last night?”.

“Yes.” I breathed, barely loud enough to hear, as he used his body weight to bend me over the table. It had been a while since we been in this position. It’s kind of hard with kids, to get the time and privacy. It was easily when Luke was toddling about since this had happened. But your Dad, he is a fantastic lover. Always anticipating my needs. He always knew when to be gentle and loving or strong and masterful. This was one of those masterful times. He nudged my feet wider, and as a growl caught in his throat, he thrust his twr in to me splitting me open driving in deep. The freedom, the feel of his weight, that growl took me places not reached in so long and in a few strong thrusts I came, loudly and fiercely. Flailing under him my legs buckling, coming easier than ever before.

Your Dad’s measured voice broke through my orgasmic fog. “Do you want more? Or do you want to eat before it gets cold?” Along with a hand feeling my bum and my cwm.

At that very second, I didn’t know what I wanted, I wanted it to last as long as possible. So I just asked him, “Hold me.” I could feel him bend over and hug me from behind. I sighed. I started to be able to think a bit, and I was sure that your Dad hadn’t come, I hadn’t given him a chance. Your Dad had slowed down over the years (like men do, as you will undoubtedly learn). When we were first married, he was almost too much for me, now I may be too much for him! But he will always make sure I get to come as many times as I want to. He would say that he’d get round to it, when he was good and ready. But he was thinking of me. It’s funny how time affects us differently.

We snuggled some, when I didn’t answer his question, he made up my mind for us. “We should eat.” He helped me off the table, while I looked hungrily at his twr and licked my lips. So he said, “Eat first.” He was looking quite hungrily at me, the pinny was short as I said. It doesn’t cover much anything when I’m sitting. I was also spilling out of it. I didn’t cover myself up any more than that. He didn’t cover himself either. He’s a little softer around the edges than when we first met, but still very tasty. After that day, he encouraged me to dress like that again. But then, he did clarify what to eat, “Pancakes.”

So we ate. I wasn’t thinking much about the food; I was thinking about what was coming next. I must have been leaving a puddle on the seat. Good job those old vinyl chairs were waterproof. Your Dad enjoyed the breakfast, and he looked a lot more awake after that. His twr was awake the whole time, and looking most tasty of all. I cleaned the things away while he contemplated matters. He didn’t offer to help, he would when we were first married, but he’d get in the way more than anything. So I’d got him used to letting me do the work. And anyway, I like doing for him.

As I said, there’s lots I like doing for him. So when I’d finished cleaning up, I took the pinny off, and went and knelt by his side, looking hungrily at his twr. I looked up at him expectantly and licked my lips again. He smiled back at me, that smile was still working its magic on me. I couldn’t think of anything better than having his twr in my mouth and not spilling any of his seed.

He had a different idea. He patted the table in front of him. I changed my mind, I couldn’t think of anything better than what he was about to do. He took my hand, and helped me sit on the table in front of him. He licked his lips, as I lay back. Those lips quickly descended to my other lips. You know, this was illegal back then, in California. We never realised that; it was legal in Texas. It wasn’t until the privacy initiative in the early seventies, which effectively legalised it, that we worked out it wasn’t. I don’t know what we’d have done if we had known, maybe moved back to Texas. How anyone would think this a sin, I can’t imagine.

Your Dad has a very talented tongue, and it was now working its magic on me. I just lay back and thought I was in heaven again. His tongue is working away, I’m moaning and thrashing about— screaming is more like it. Usually, I’d try to muffle that, but with no one else in the house, I could give full vent to my feelings. And my feelings were truly amazing. I hope you find yourself a man who’s at least half as good.

Some boys do like to do that you know. You’re dad’s one of them, so when I came quickly he carried on. Sometimes he’d complain, in a good natured way, when I came quickly. He’d complain he didn’t get to enjoy it, then we worked out sometimes he could just carry on. That’d stretch out the orgasm, and the first would blend in with the next one. God, that was amazing when he managed that, like this time.

That completely knocked the stuffing out of me. I’m feeling just like a rag doll, I don’t think any of my limbs were cooperating then. But, I felt his hand holding mine and my first thought is, ‘God I love him’. I manage to look in his direction, and he’s smiling at me. His smile really does things to me. I could have come again then with just a little help, I flopped back on the table and he said, in his measured way, “When you’re ready, I have something for you.”

I knew what that was, he was going to want me to suck on his twr. That maybe my favourite thing to do, my favourite thing to do may depend on what I’m doing at the time. By the way (with my health educator’s hat on again, and sorry if this sort of thing embarrasses you in my sex ed classes), that has a 0% chance of getting you pregnant, so may be a good alternative to intercourse in certain circumstances. Not that I want to encourage you to do it indiscriminately, but boys do love it. I know I love it, as with everything you should follow your heart. As your Mom I’d be well pleased if you did save yourself for you wedding night, but unlike congress and that dumb chastity law they’re trying to pass, I know you’re best served by knowing all the options. (Sorry for getting het up, I’ll take that hat off now.) It’s your choice.

So he wants me to do that, I want to do that, but I can barely move. So I ask him to help me up, and what does he do? He picks me up bodily, he’s still strong and well muscled, and carries me into the living room. I hold him around his neck, snuggle in his manly chest and drink in his aroma. He may have been a bit ripe, we hadn’t bathed yet that morning, but that didn’t bother me. It turned me on more. Your Dad is good at that, turning me on.

He puts me gently down on the shag carpet in the living room, and takes his seat on the couch, then just lies back and smiles at me. As an aside, shag carpet is much easier on the knees for this than the vinyl flooring in the kitchen. That is if I don’t find any lost pieces of your Lego in it. I’d just about regained enough control of my limbs, so I could kneel in front of him and grab him and lick him.

You know, this was also illegal in California then. How a bunch of male legislators managed to pass a law outlawing that, I’ll never know. If I’d realised, maybe I’d have started a campaign with the legislator’s wives. Get them to practice civil disobedience by doing that to their husbands and see what the reaction was.

But anyway, I love this bit. I’d had 20 years to practice; I’d got quite good at it, even if I do say so myself. Your Dad never complained about my efforts, and he was never too hard to persuade to let me do it. I started slow, just licking him all over. Up the shaft, and around the head. If you do do this, be careful of the head, it’s very sensitive. It’s just like your little button, so treat it like you’d want to be treated.

Your Dad was as usual, flat out and moaning. I took that as a good sign. Also, a good sign was he was leaking pre-ejaculate. That’s the clear slippery stuff that comes out before he finally comes. It’s a little salty, but not unpleasant. Be careful, that stuff can get you pregnant if you get it in the wrong place. But, you can use it as extra lubrication if you want to use your hand as well, spit may not be enough. Most boys your age are circumcised, so need lubrication. If you ever find an uncircumcised one, you may not need it. I can’t help you there, I’ve only ever known your dad’s. If you do need extra lubrication you can get it from your cwm as well. This always turns me on like nobody’s business, so there’s always lots down there if I need it.

Now, it was time to do it properly. To take him into my mouth. I can get about half of him in these days, then it just bumps the back of my throat. Some women like to swallow it further down the throat itself. I’m not sure that’s a good idea, I think I’d injure myself if I tried that with your Dad. Back then I’d never heard that idea, it got talked about once the film “Deep Throat” came out, also in the early seventies. I made do with fitting as much of him in as possible.

I love this bit, he’s flat out in front of me, totally in my power. Of course, I use that power wisely, for good. I think getting him off is good. I don’t rush it, I want to enjoy it. I can enjoy the smooth feeling of his hard twr on my tongue, and mouth, and lips. I can hear his moans of appreciation. I can see him writhing in ecstasy. I can taste the pre-ejaculate. I can smell his manly presence. It’s a totally sensory experience. I usually have one hand on my cwm, to help me along. The other one will be on his twr, helping him along as well.

Unfortunately, it never does last forever. As much as I’d want it to. This time he took a reasonable time about it. If he’d come too quickly I’d be disappointed, even if I tried not to show it, he’d sense that. I love your Dad, for that and a million other things. He tried never to come too quickly. His squirming, trying not to come will just turn me on even more. So he comes, and my mouth is filled with his warm seed. It’s a bit of a weird taste, a bit acidic which can catch in the throat. It’s not unpleasant, it couldn’t be unpleasant, it’s your dad’s gift to me. I make sure not to spill any, that’s optional by the way, but it is the tidy option.

Now, if you’ve done this right, it should totally flatten your man. He’s not going to be good for anything for a little while, so you should let him rest. He can also get a bit sensitive, particularly down there, so you should be careful how you touch him. A hug can be good right now, or if you’re like me, totally turned on by the proceedings, maybe give him a show to watch. That’s what I did. I knelt on the couch next to him and ran my hands over my body, particularly my bosoms and my cwm.

I’m playing with myself, and I’m ready to come; I’m waiting for his reaction. If he smiles at me right, I’ll come almost immediately. Some times he’ll indicate he has another idea, and I’ll find out what that is instead. This time he smiled that smile at me, I came. As usual, he caught me before I fell off the couch and held me to him. I love being so close to him like that.

We just lay like that for a while. Just enjoying each other. Eventually, it was time to get cleaned up. We do, and I’m just coming out of the bathroom after my shower and he’s lying there on the bed naked. ‘This is promising,’ I think. He beckons me over, and I join him on the bed. We just spend forever kissing and cuddling, and fondling.

I’d be happy spending all day, or all week, doing that, but eventually we turned ourselves on so much we had to do something about it. I was lying on my back, and he was suckling on one of my bosoms, while his hand ran up my inner thigh. I opened my legs to let him get where ever he wanted to get to. He rolled over on top of me and looked me in the eye and smiled at me while his twr slipped inside of me, at the same time he said, “I love you.”

Rereading this it might seem we never said that to each other, that’s not true, we say it a lot. But that instance was particularly memorable. I’d got so turned on, I’d just been waiting for him to do that. Now he was. This was also one of my favourite things, face to face is particularly good so you can see him, and his smile. And kiss him, and see him say he loves you. I still felt so filled. Even after all that time, I never got used to it, it just feels so wonderful to have him in me like that.

Its so indescribable, so wonderful that feeling. Sharing that with the man you love. Its something you’re going to have to experience yourself. Just be very sure that you give it to the right man, your first time is not something you can ever get back. He started slow, and that was good. I just lay back and there I was, in heaven once again. I didn’t need to muffle anything, and my moans must have rung throughout the house.

It took a while, but eventually I was close to coming. He sensed that, or maybe I told him, whatever, he sped up, and I started coming. And I just carried on coming, he was pounding away and I was just floating on waves of ecstasy. Bugger heaven, this was even better. I was getting to the point where I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore when he finally came, just at the perfect time. That may be the best it’s ever been. We both collapsed on the bed. We did manage to find each other’s hands to hold though.

It took a while before either of us could manage to do anything. The first thing was a very breathless, “I love you.” Eventually we hugged again, and kissed a bit, before we decided we should get cleaned up, again. We hugged and kissed a lot more that day, but nothing very sexual until the evening. I was keen to do that again, but I was a bit sore. That was unusual in those days, but it had been a truly memorable occasion. He’d been so very enthusiastic and forceful. So we didn’t do that again. He was also a bit worn out, like I said, he’s slowing down a bit, twice in one day is a lot for him. So the main event was him licking me. He’s very good at that as I said. We went to sleep that night very tired, and very happy.

The next morning, I took my temperature as usual and it indicated I was ovulating. That was a lot sooner than we expected, I was usually much more regular than that. This may be the first sign of getting old; your period becomes irregular. I wondered if I’d missed any other signs the morning before, I had been very eager to get started. Or maybe my body thought the love making was too perfect to pass up the chance. With that, we had alternate types of sex that day and for the rest of the week. My period never came; I was pregnant with you. The only time we could have conceived you was that time he started off by saying, “I love you.” The most perfect love making ever, even more perfect as you’re the result.

As I said, we were happy to accept God’s blessing, and you’re definitely not a mistake. Though after you we decided I was too old to have more kids, so I went on the pill. That was a more controversial decision in those days; it still is with some. We prayed for guidance about that, and me and your Dad discussed it. Our consciences are happy with the decision. As Paul says, “Happy is he that condemneth not himself in that thing which he alloweth.” His message is much the same as “follow your heart”, as I say.

One thing I was worried about: on the pill, there was no more need to refrain from sex on any days of the month. Your Dad said I could still use my mouth when I wanted, so I was happy. Of course, he can have me whenever and however he wants, but he wants what I want. I like the way Paul said that, “The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband: and likewise also the husband hath not power of his own body, but the wife.” You are truly blessed if you can find a man where that works so well.

Again, I’m not saying you have to follow the Bible or anything, you have to come to your own decisions you’re happy with. As I said, “Follow your heart”. In my heart, the Bible makes a lot of sense.

Your ever loving Mom.