New Beginnings

"Still think you could have stopped me, Lizzie?" he asked before his lips covered mine. The kiss varied: one moment soft and tender. The next, it was coaxing some hidden response from me. And at times it was even demanding.

The kiss was different from others we had shared in another way too. His strong hands never moved from where they rested on my hips. His fingers never rubbed the tight buds of my nipples and yet his teeth, tongue and lips played such a symphony that they ached anyway. He made no move to draw me closer. Although I could feel his cock hard against my leg, he did not hypnotise me with this temptation either. Instead he focussed all his seduction into a kiss and it was anything but a simple kiss though.

As good as the kid was at fucking, it was his kissing that scared the ever-loving be-jesus out of me. It always had been. Actually, I realised I often tried to avoid kissing, because it was somehow too intimate; even more so than the pounding of his impressive hard black cock in my wet white pussy. But this time, the kiss was working its magic as my need for him grew with each soft lick and caress of his tongue on mine.

My hands moved across his broad back feeling the smooth muscles tighten as they moved lower still. Finding the muscles of his breath-stealing hot arse, I pulled him closer still until we both moaned into one another's mouths; frustrated by the rough material between us. My fingers ran beneath the waistband until I found the button and fumbled with it. His fingers brushed mine aside and made much faster work of the zipper as he brushed the offending barrier away and wriggled out of them.

"Shirt too..." I whispered against his lips.

"Bossy now, are we?" But he complied lifting his jumper quickly over his head and returning to my side. "Where were we?" he asked. "Oh yes, you said you could have stopped me." His mouth moved down to the darkening bud of my nipple. His tongue softly scarped against it until my hips were arching against him; my nipple actually aching, more sensitive now because of my pregnancy.

He growled at my responsiveness. "Too much? Are they too sensitive?"

I shook my head, "Don't stop. Please, don't stop." I begged arching my chest; offering my even fuller breasts up to his hands and mouth.

"Hmmm, I have always loved your tits, Lizzie." He was gentle but firm as he cupped my breasts in his large dark hands squeezing them as he pushed them together until the nipples almost touched. His wet mouth travelled back and forth between them: sucking, biting and licking. I was moaning unashamedly under his touch.

His breath was so hot against my skin when he spoke, "I always wanted to taste Ellie's milk you know. Wondered what you taste like..." His words were hot and erotic between us.

"You are very naughty, you know that?"

His black eyes playfully danced across my face, "You want to try and spank me sometime, luvy? It might not work the way you planned though." His hand moved to my leg, lifting it just enough for the head of his cock to slip inside my cunt. "When it comes to you, I always will be very naughty."

Moving into me just a tad more, it was not enough to quench the growing hunger inside my wet swollen white pussy. I moved my hips up; trying to draw more of his cock into me. I sought a release that was so close. "Dammit, Daryl, I need cock," I spat in frustration.

Daryl flipped me onto my back, so that he towered above me then. His hands were on my hips pinning me firmly to the bed. With still nothing more than the tip of his hard cock at the opening of my cunt, he answered "No, Lizzie...this time...I am not letting you get away with that. I have told you before this is not simply about cock."

I bit my lip as I turned my head to the side and stared at the cream walls again. I was crazy, absolutely fucking nuts, I told myself. Thinking about it, I suppose I was...crazy for this kid's hard black cock.

"Dammit, Lizzie. Fucking look at me or I swear I will get dressed and walk out that door," his voice deep and clear as he spat each word.

I swallowed the fear: a fear I was not going to name: fear of returning to the emptiness and loneliness before that crisp September morning when he had barged into my life. Fear of the emptiness and loneliness I had felt each and every single day for two weeks after our argument at Thanksgiving. The same fear and emptiness I sometimes felt when I woke up alone in the bed and reached for him when he was not there.

I forced myself to look at him. Even though I knew I did not want to face yet another of the truths he insisted upon no longer keeping secret. I focused upon my breathing and heart; trying to steady the growing panic.

"I love you."

Well so much for panic. Shear fucking terror was more like it. The breath knocked from my body; not by the feel of his fabulous cock inside me this time, but by the simple and pretty fucking undeniable truth I saw in his eyes and face. Then it was I that wanted desperately to walk away. But even if not for the tiny life growing inside me, I knew that was not possible.

"I know you aren't any more ready to hear that than you were for any of the rest of this. But we need to start dealing with the realities here; not stupid rules." His expression softening a tad then, "Reality number one: you are carrying my baby. So I think that people are going to find out something soon enough. I would sure as hell they found out about us than wonder who his dad is. Actually I would prefer like hell that my son wasn't a bastard."

I physically winced at his tone and use of that word. "Daryl..." I began.

"I'm not done yet, woman," he said as he stared down at me. "I know you are scared about what people will think. What our families are going to think. But you might as well know; my mums has known since Thanksgiving."

"What?" I questioned as I felt nausea rising along with the panic and fear. In our tight knit little community where gossip over a cup of tea was as much about the neighbours as it was about the latest happenings on Emmerdale or Hollyoaks, the idea that anyone knew about us was terrifying. The ramifications began to dawn on me, "What about Mary? Kyle?"

"I don't know. But I doubt it will shock Kyle very much," He smiled as he bent to kiss me, "Took me days to teach that child about mistletoe."

"You didn't," my anger grew that he saw this...my life...as some game.

"I did. And just so you know; that morning was no accident either. I knew your schedule; knew you would be alone for hours once you dropped Ellie off at school. I had thought about it for weeks. Hell since we're being honest here; I had thought about being with you since I saw you at James' funeral."

Shaking my head in denial, I needed to be alone. "Please leave." My hands on his shoulders to push him away, "I need to think...about everything," I pleaded.

This time it was Daryl that closed his eyes. Shaking his dark braids, I did not want to notice the moisture in the corners of those eyes or the crack in his voice when he finally replied, "No, Lizzie. You need to feel...to feel what is really between us."

Only then did he give me what my body had been craving earlier, surging deep inside me. I was shocked at how quickly my body responded to his touch even as my mind warred against everything he said and did. It welcomed him; completely. My hot cunt arched to meet his thrust. I could feel my pussy juice actually running down his cock, coating it, making each stroke easier, and drawing him deeper each time. As much as I did not want to, I felt my orgasm approaching. Actually it is pretty amazing that I had not cum immediately with that first deep thrust.

In the end though, I could not deny either of us what we needed: the coming together of our bodies...hard and hot and fast. I arched against him drawing him even deeper when I wrapped my white legs around his waist. His hands moved to my soft arse lifting me to meet each thrust and stroke.

"Daryl, please..." I begged and pleaded as I came again. As deep as he was inside of me, it was like a drug. I was addicted to the feel of his hard cock buried inside of me; over and over again.

"Yes, luvy...feel that? Feel how hard you make me." His cock slammed into me as I came once more. "Feel how much I want you." He repeated the action until he slipped even deeper inside of my body. "Feel how much I love you." He challenged as he pumped faster into me. I moaned and whimpered beneath him more.

Even though his words terrorized me, my body seemed determined to communicate its own message. My hands moved slowly over his broad shoulders and back; clutching in desperation as my hips arched upwards to match each thrust; to draw him deeper as if I could not get enough of what he offered. Even though I kept my nails short for work, I realised that my grip on his back was so tight that there would be distinctive half moon marks in his dark skin.

But as many orgasms as he had already given me, it was not enough. It was as if I needed more, but what more? Turning my head, I used my tongue to draw a light trail parallel to the veins bulging in his neck. My lips against his ear as my hips continued to draw thrust upwards to quench the insatiable need inside me, "Kiss me." A whispered confession ripped against my will from deep inside. I whimpered in need as much as anger at the weakness of my flesh.

As if responding to my whimpers, his cock plunged deeply into me matching the mating as his tongue plunged deep into my mouth. I screamed into his kiss as I came hard around his cock. The twin action of our mating; cock in cunt matching tongue upon tongue; was what it took. My orgasm shattering then in its intensity as it seemed to go on and on. The tight muscles of my wet pussy squeezed and contracted around his cock until I got what I wanted. I felt him trembling above me as his seed splashed deep inside of me.

Daryl continued to kiss me for several minutes. His tongue played at mine. His lips were soft and demanding. His hands moved slowly up my hips over our child to cup my breasts once more. He seemed unwilling or unable to stop. He finished with a tender peck on my lips before he reached down towards his jeans on the floor.

Chuckling softly at him, "If you are going for the condom in your wallet, I think you might be a few weeks too late." Remembering the hundreds of times as a nurse, I had lectured all of three of the boys about the importance of using protection...and feeling pretty hypocritical given the situation.

"Nope, hate the damned things," he laughed. "But thought now might be the time for your Valentine's present," as I noticed the same black velvet box in his hands. I could only nod as I bit my lip.

I watched as he fumbled with the pearl ring set in white gold. Taking it from the box, he lifted my hand to his lips first. He brushed a kiss over my knuckle that was just beginning to tan after the past few weeks. The engagement ring and wedding band James' had given me was still nestled on Daryl's gold chain about my neck.

Holding the ring at the tip of my finger, he whispered "I know I have pushed you too fast. You have very right to kick my black ass out right now. But you got to know Lizzie I never ever meant to hurt you. The only excuse I have for being an ass is that I love you to death...and I didn't want someone else steppin' up first."

Looking me in the eye then, "If you can ever forgive me, I promise I'll at least try to give you the time you need to come to love me too. But for our son...for Ellie...for me...let's stop playing games and be a real family. Lizzie, will you marry me?"

I nodded simply because I could not talk. Even though I was far from ready to deal with things, least of all him; I knew that what he said made sense.

Chapter Seven

"OHHHHHHHHHHH...FUCK!" I shouted as I gritted my teeth. My hand gripped his so tightly that I am sure it must have once again left half-moon crescent marks but this time in the dark skin of his forearms. The pain was no longer just the gripping and tightening in my swollen belly, but now also the burning and pressure in my fanny.

As a midwife, I knew even before Marge opened her mouth. "It looks like we're ready to push, Elizabeth."

"No? You think?" I asked, more than a bit pissed at the obvious. Using my grip on Daryl's hand to raise up just a tad, I noticed that the skin of my finger was still white where the ring had been; until my finger had swollen up so much that I had been forced to use first Daryl's coco butter, then dish soap and finally baby oil to get it off before it cut off the circulation.

Bending my head towards my chest I grip Daryl's hand hard as I begin to bear down with the next contraction. "Dam this hurts..." I protested.

Marge laughed, "You think?" she tossed my earlier smart ass comment back at me.

I lay my head against Daryl's shoulder to rest between contractions now. I pressed a kiss over the solid thudding of his heart beat. "Ready to meet your son?"

Squeezing my hand tightly as he whispers, "Actually...at this moment...no. I'm scared to death."

I had to laugh at that, "Now is not the time to back out..." I felt the burning and pressure intensifying again.

"Don't worry. Just feeling like someone kicked me in the stomach," he reassured as he helped me lean forward once more. I nod in complete understanding before closing my eyes and focusing one more time. Thinking back to another Sunday afternoon when Daryl had been kicked in the stomach literally.

***

Ellie was with her Nan and Unca, I remembered as I came awake slowly with the sun filtering through the curtains in our bedroom. What was that noise? Thinking for a moment I realised it was water running: the shower. Nodding to myself I got up slowly from the bed knowing that Daryl must be home from rugby.

Not even bothering with my robe, I slipped quietly into the bathroom and came to a sudden complete stop. Daryl's over six muscular frame was covered from braided head to booted foot in mud, grass and blood. Lots of blood. "What the fuck happened?"

Shrugging silently as he pulled his shirt over his head and checked the water temperature, "Nothing...it was just a friendly." Kicking off his shoes now and pushing his practice shorts down his long muscular thighs in silence as if trying desperately to avoid any further questions. Stepping beneath the pounding water, it trailed in little pink streams down his dark face, his neck and that heart-stopping gorgeous broad chest lightly dusted in springy curls.

Stepping into the tub, I picked up the sponge applying a generous amount of the intoxicatingly male smelling body wash; I began to slowly wash the mud and blood from his body. As I finished the job, washing the last of it down the drain from his legs and feet, I was pleased to count only one gash about a centimetre long above his left eye and a couple of nasty bruises forming on his arms and chest. "This doesn't look like a friendly to me, Daryl," I accuse.

Shaking his head until the wet from his braids splashed across my face, he drew me against him; well as close to him as my slightly bulging tummy was going to allow anyway. Placing a tender kiss upon the side of my neck as his dark hand cupped our child, his eyes looking at my tummy and carefully avoiding my stare, "Kyle's not coming to the wedding," his voice was almost a whisper.

It may seem odd, but I could tell from the sound of his voice, the tenseness in his muscles and the way he still carefully avoided my eyes that this was bothering him; actually more than it bothered me. "I'm not surprised," I replied stepping beneath the warm water until my blondish-brown hair darkened several shades from the wetness. I wasn't particularly dirty having taken a shower when I came in from work that morning. But the water helped me to focus; to relax my own rising tensions a bit...and hid the tears I could not stop as they trailed down my face.

Hugging me tight as the water poured about us both...about all three of us, remembering the growing reminder of the baby we had made. "I'm sorry, Lizzie. I didn't think he'd be such a fucking wanker about us."

"Give Kyle a break," I defended my son vehemently. "If things were the other way around, you would be just as upset. Your friend fucking your mum...them getting married AND having a baby. It is just a bit much to handle, don't you think?"

Finally looking me in the face, he replied calmly. "Hell no. If his skinny white ass could take the shadows out my mum's eyes that I've lived with all my life, I'd take him out to the pub and get drunk to celebrate." He said the words with such resolve and pain that I could not argue the point.

Taking the sponge from my fingers he applied more gel and began to slowly rub the rough surface across my smooth skin. His touch was at times firm, at other points tender, but always teasing and coaxing a response from me. By the time he had finished my body was slick with the soapy film. Reaching up he took the shower head from its holder and repeated the head to toe trail. The warm water pounded against my skin until I almost moaned.

I did moan when his long fingers pressed softly between my legs. The combination of the water and his touch on my clit was electrifying. "Open for me, luvy," he commanded firmly as he knelt in the tub on one knee. I was helpless to deny him as my hands went to his broad shoulders to steady myself as the shower head dropped in the tub. The tone-on-tone of his very dark Nubian skin against my much paler fingers caused my cunt to drip as it always did.

I had to chuckle just a bit when Daryl had to tilt his head to the side to avoid the baby. But I was not laughing when his warm tongue found its target: my swollen slit. His hands firmly cupped my round bum as he lifted me towards his mouth. My legs fell open even more at the first touch of his thick tongue on my clit. He flicked it back and forth quickly before sucking it slowly into his warm mouth, his teeth capturing it firmly. I felt his thick fingers breech the swollen lips of my cunt. I knew he would soon find my g-spot as well. He always did. But when he did my orgasm was so strong my knees buckled. The combined effect of pregnancy with the stimulation of both my clit and g-spot was more than I could take. I bit my lip, of course; to keep from screaming.

His hands steadied me as he reached up and replaced the shower head in its hanger and turned off the water then. His arms wrapped about my knees and shoulders then...with the weight gain of pregnancy I was a bit reluctant as he lifted me up. "I weigh too much," I started to protest.

Laughter rang against my ear, "I seriously doubt, luvy, that even when he is born you weight anywhere near the two-seventy-five I can bench press. If I thought there was any chance I'd drop you, I wouldn't risk hurting either of you."

Wrapping my arms about his neck, I gave in. "Just don't go all caveman on me." Although the image of my stud muffin in fur loincloth and beating his chest was not unappealing; I smiled at the joke.

Carrying me the short twenty feet down the hall, he carefully laid me back against the pillows. I thought about protesting that we would get the bed wet but then remembered that we most often did get it wet anyway...one way or another.

Coming down next to me, my young lover began to explore my changing body slowly. His hands and eyes cupped my breasts. He lifted them softly as if actually weighing them. I knew if he looked closely he would see the bluish veins running like streams towards the darkening areolas. From almost the beginning of my pregnancy, my breasts had been even more sensitive. At times the feeling of just his mouth upon them had been enough to bring on my orgasm. But I knew that my breasts held a special fascination for him as well.