Our Two Girls

Sorry, no explicit sex. No one burnt at the stake. Not a trace of a Navy Seal or an SAS soldier. Just a poor young lad trying to live his life out and running into problems as he did what he saw as the best thing for his family(s).

It's a bit on the long side and I thought about splitting it up, but couldn't decide where without loosing the overall plot. So, get yourself a nice cup of tea (or something stronger?) and settle yourself down comfortably.

Be warned! It could just have a happy ending.

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IT WAS ALL MY FIRST WIFE'S FAULT!

No ---- I suppose that wasn't really fair. It was what she wanted and I was so damn blinded by love that I keeled over and agreed.

So, I guess it was mainly her fault, wasn't it?

I met and married Cloe when I was but a lad, and her less than a year younger. Couldn't keep my pecker in my pants when I first dated her, and she seemed to have a related problem with her panties.

Result ----- Three months into our relationship and I am regally informed that she was already two months pregnant, and our parents were planning the wedding. I should add that this was all a few years ago now, and in those days it was more or less expected.

My Mum and Dad thought that she was a good catch, her Dad being the sort that went to work in a suit every morning, and as far as her parents were concerned I was the only one in the frame.

Not that married life was all that bad as it turned out, and young as we were, we managed to make ends meet, even after renting a nice little flat on the edge of town.

The edge that her parents lived on of course, but I didn't mind, Dad didn't say much, and Mum thought her offspring was moving up in the world.

And so I was!

Derek, Cloe's Dad, had got me into his company, and another year or so, if I kept my nose clean, then there was every chance that I could wear a suit to work as well.

Oh such times!

Mum was tickled pink and even my Dad bought me a pint when I bumped into him down the local.

The little one popped out on time and turned out to be a healthy bouncing little boy who we called Derek. Yes, that's right, after her Dad, not mine. Cloe had a bit of a hard time giving birth --- Something about pelvic something or other, that I didn't understand and to be perfectly frank with you, had no wish to.

Women's things ------ Yuk!

Life carried on and I settled down into married bliss, but, though we took precautions, less than a year later Cloe was preggers again ---- Up the spout!

Don't know how it happened or what went wrong, but her dad called me irresponsible and her Mum refused to talk to me for two weeks.

My parents didn't say a lot.

Duly and accordingly, my second son popped out, and of course Cloe had a hard time again and naturally, I got the blame.

"So unthoughtful," muttered her mother whenever she passed me.

"So irresponsible," growled her Dad.

My Mum just shrugged her shoulders and of course, Dad said nothing.

-----------------------

Little Thomas, named after Cloe's uncle, was however bright and well I'm pleased to report, but my relationship with Cloe took a tumble. Sex, what there was of it, became a chore for her, and became so infrequent that I thought I might have to start taking notes, to remember how to do it.

"We can't go on like this Cloe," I informed her, about four thirty, one miserable Saturday afternoon in March. "We haven't had sex together for nearly three weeks."

"Two weeks and four days," she replied, looking me in the eye. "And if I have my way, then it'll be another three weeks at least."

"But what's wrong with you ----- with us?" I implored her. "We both used to enjoy it so much."

"You don't have to go through having babies David," Cloe answered, taking the same tack as she'd taken the last couple of times I'd bought the subject up. "You know I can't take birth control pills, and I'm damned if I'm going to take the risk of getting pregnant again."

It was true!

After the birth of young Derek, she'd come home to tell me that the doctor had recommended that the pills would be unsuitable for her. I'd heard something about injections and things, but they were all very untried back then, and as I've said, women's things were an unknown quantity to me, so nothing come of that either. We'd settled for condoms and I'd always been very careful, but obviously we'd slipped up somewhere along the line.

Damn it!

"But here must be some other way Cloe."

"Not for me there isn't," she insisted.

"But I can't go on for ever with no sex from my wife," I pointed out.

"Then get yourself done," Cloe suggested with a smile.

"Done?" I demanded. "What do you mean, done?"

"You know David," she came back haughtily. "Done ---- doctored ----- Have the snip."

"What," I cried out in dismay. "You mean get myself ........ Have my ......... "

I could hardly get the words out.

"That's right David," she carried on. "Mum and I have been looking into it, and you can get it done on the National Health."

"But I wouldn't be able to have any more babies Cloe," I pleaded, the thought of some doctor messing about with my thingy quite turning my stomach.

"We've got two already," she reminded me. "Why the hell would we want any more?"

She had a point. But ........?

"But I'm too young to think of anything like that."

"Your choice David," Cloe carried on. "If you really love me, then you'd do this for me."

Oh Shit!

--------------------------

We tossed the idea back and forth for several days, to my embarrassment her parents becoming involved. How the hell do you sit and discuss your private parts being mucked about like that with your mother-in-law for Christ's sake?

My objections were battered down eventually, and by the end of the week I'd agreed to go and see the doctor. I managed to miss the first appointment but got such an ear-bashing that I turned up for the second.

"Bit young to be doing something like this, aren't you?" The good doctor questioned me.

I agreed with him, but explained the circumstances, and he let it pass.

"You do realize that this is not reversible?" He next hit me with.

Now in those days, as you may have detected, I was a bit young and wet behind the ears. And to be honest, I'd never even thought about that.

"Not like the young man from Kent then?" I quipped back to hide my uncertainty, but he'd either never heard of the somewhat cheeky song, or maybe didn't find it funny. Either ways, he nodded sagely and carried on. Within ten minutes I was booked in to see the specialist, and a few weeks later a slot popped up due to a cancellation, and I was in.

Then I was out again ------- Feeling a little bit sore down there of course, but otherwise undetectably different from before. I was however looking forward to re-establishing my relations with my pretty young wife, even though I had to wait ten days to be checked that I was indeed firing blanks.

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Ten days? ----------- What a joke!

It was a good two weeks or more before Cloe agreed to perform the twin-dancing act with me, and even then it seemed that I was doing the dancing, and it was her that was acting.

Bugger it!

I was not a happy bunny, and as days and then weeks passed, I began to wonder if we would ever get back to where we were, and if I had gone through what I'd been through for nothing.

Five months later!

Well, actually depending on when you started from, it could have been more. But no matter, some time had passed and my conjugal rights were still somewhat left of centre. Not that Cloe had denied me entirely, but it still wasn't good. Christ, I didn't know what good was anymore!

Then my world collapsed around me, and I have some doubts whether any of you can believe this. I'll take you through it as I remember it, though you will, I hope understand why my memory was a trifle confused at the time.

"Can't get anything right, can you, you hopeless article," my glorious mother in law greeted me one otherwise pleasant Tuesday morning. It was about eleven thirty, and I was half way through making myself a nice cup of tea, though I never actually got round to drinking it.

"Sorry?"

What else does one say?

"Can't even get yourself doctored correctly," she hit me with. Verbally that is --- Not physically.

"Pardon?"

Ok --- That wasn't much better than sorry, was it?

"Cloe, the poor sweet darling," she chastised me angrily. "You've got her pregnant again. Don't you have any sense? Can't you control your animal urges?"

"Pregnant? But she can't be," I cried out in astonishment.

"Well she is you fool," she shot back at me. "If I was you, then I'd go and demand my money back from that damn useless doctor."

"I can't," I whined back, pathetic in my turmoil. "It was done free on the National Health."

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Suffice to say, that I got much the same tirade from Cloe when she came home, and the cold shoulder for the rest of the night.

But something wasn't right there, was it?

Might seem obvious to you, sat there on your comfortable chair in front of your computor with little else to worry about, but for me, it was such a shock that it took an hour or more to fully sink in.

Let's be honest here, I was still nowt but a lad back then.

I didn't say anything, but the next day I took the two kids over to Mum and Dad's on my own as I did every Wednesday evening, Cloe having decided that she didn't like going over to that part of town.

"What? You must be kidding us," my Mum shouted when I gave her the story. "You've had the report from the hospital. What did it say?"

"I'm shooting blanks," I reminded them, somewhat un-necessarily.

"So where do you think this baby has come from then David?"

"I dread to think," I replied.

We, all three of us, stared silently at one another for some moments.

"Sounds like your 'holier than thou' wife has been getting some on the side," commented my Mum eventually.

"Being playing away from home," added Dad.

"That's the answer that I'd come up with," I agreed with the pair of them. "But what the hell do I do about it? I've got the two kids to think about."

Another silence ------ Rather a long, ominous one.

"Better tell him Martha," my Dad broke the silence with.

"Tell me what?"

"Our suspicions David," Mum took over again, Dad not being much of a one for words.

"Suspicions? What suspicions?"

"Your two little ones," Mum carried on, looking down at my two infant sons as they played there in front of us. "You can quite plainly see it on Derek now, and it's showing on Thomas as he gets older."

"What?" I demanded, examining my two boys, wondering what on earth I should be searching for.

"The hair," said Mum.

"Well of course they've both got hair," I cried in mounting frustration. "They're not bald."

"The colour David."

"Well they're both blonde," I retorted shortly. "In fact Derek is starting to go ginger a bit."

"More than a bit David," Mum insisted. "And now Thomas is following suit."

"So what?" I asked in puzzlement.

"Well neither you or Cloe are ginger or have red hair, do you?"

"No," I replied, following her line of thinking. "And nobody in Cloe's family is ginger either, but I've got two cousins who are."

"Yes, Alf and Mike," Mum agreed.

"Well there you are Mum," I answered her. "It's from our side of the family."

"But it's their Dad that's ginger David," Mum explained to me. "He married my sister Mary, so there's no ginger hair in our side of the family. Never has been."

Oh bugger!

Christ, did my stomach turn over!

----------------------

OK, there could have been any number of explanations, but linked with the new pregnancy, Mum whisked me and the kids up to our local doctor, the very same man who had apparently bought me screaming into the world some twenty years before.

He pulled an unhappy face when we explained the situation, but gave the boys and me a blood test. Explained that it couldn't prove that I was the father, but it could prove that I wasn't. Other than that it would have been one of them new fangled high tech tests, that had only recently become available back in those days.

Next day ----- The results --------- The unthinkable!

How the hell do you deal with that?

Got my thinking cap on and made a mental list of every man that I could think of with red, or ginger hair, and fortunately it wasn't long at all. There was every chance that it could be someone I didn't know of course, but one name stood out from the other four.

Thomas Martin!

Then it clicked ------- Thomas Martin -------- Thomas!!! ------- Bleeding Thomas!

My bitch of a wife hadn't named our second son after her damn uncle as she'd told me, but after her lover. After Thomas's real father.

Thomas Martin was a neighbour of her parents, a guy in his mid thirties who was married with two kids of his own, who Cloe had baby sitted for regularly when she was younger.

Damn it, I had gone along and babysat with her several times, and had made out on their sofa when the kids had gone off to sleep. Seems as if I wasn't the only one who had been doing so, didn't it.

So ------- Not being one to beat about the bush, and not so much as considering gathering evidence or anything like that. It was straight home for the confrontation.

"Hi David. How was work today?" She greeted me with a smile. No mention of my inability to get myself neutered effectively. No doubt it had occurred to her not to push me too far. I have to add that my loving wife was not actually looking too confident.

"So how did Thomas Martin take the news that he's going to be a father again?" I hit her with grimly.

Though she covered it quickly, the look on her face said it all. Cloe denied it for all she was worth for ten minutes or so, but when I presented the blood test results she gave in.

"It's you that I love honey," she started with. "Thomas doesn't mean anything to me. It was all a mistake David, a terrible mistake."

"Oh," I replied, smiling at her. "It was a mistake was it?"

"Of course it was honey. You know how good we have always been together, and I only made this one mistake."

"One mistake or three mistakes Cloe?" I demanded coolly. "Or was it one single mistake that lasted nearly three bloody years?"

"Well, the first time was a single mistake, and I suppose the next time was like the same mistake again," she whined. "Then what happened was ....... "

"Oh shut up for Christ's sake you stupid woman," I shouted out loud. "Or do you think I'm stupid? You trying to kid me now that you've only fucked him three times and each time you accidentally got pregnant? How many other men have you had behind my back?"

"How dare you talk to my daughter like that?" Came a voice behind me, and I turned to see her bloody Mother there. Obviously hid herself away in case I came home and things got out of hand.

"Piss off out of my house you bitch," I surprised her with, never having spoken to her like that before.

"You can't talk to me like that," she blurted out.

"Yes I can you old witch, and if you don't get out straight away, then I'll throw you out myself."

"You touch me and I'll get my husband. Derek will show you what's what."

"A pleasure you old cow," I grinned at her. "Send him round and I'll be pleased to send him home with a broken bone or two."

"Well the laugh's on you isn't it you sorry wretch," she shot back at me, loosing her temper. "You've been a cuckold throughout your marriage and before for that matter. We picked you out to marry Cloe when she got pregnant the first time, because you were the only single man she was going with at the time."

"Mum, please shut up," Cloe screamed, but it was too late. Far too late.

I turned to her and she dropped her head in shame.

"Sorry David, you were never supposed to find out. I did love you, sort of, and I still do for that matter. It's just I'm ..... Well my whole family is ....... Well sort of ....... Oh damn it, what does it matter now?"

"Not a lot," I confirmed calming down to my surprise. "Why don't you take your damn mother and get out of here?"

"What about the boys?" Cloe asked meekly.

Oh God yes! What about the boys?

This was really going to break my heart one way or the other, but I knew it had to be done.

"You'd better stay here then Cloe," I told her, sighing deeply. "I'll go. I'll be back for my things in a day or so."

"Does it have to be this way David honey?" Cloe pleaded with me, but I just nodded my head, afraid to speak for fear that I might capitulate.

"That's right you spineless no hoper," her Mum broke in spitefully. "Just run away like the coward you are."

"Shut your damn mouth Mother," Cloe screamed at her, before I could respond. "Or I swear to you that it will be me who throws you out. You've caused enough trouble as it is. This is all your fault."

Her mother went to retort back at her but thought better of it, turning on her heels and storming out of the door, the house vibrating on it's very foundations as she slammed it shut.

"I'm sorry David. I'm really very sorry and you know you can see the boys anytime you want."

"We'll see about that," I told her sharply. "The way I feel at the moment I doubt that I'll ever want to see either of them again."

It wasn't true of course, but it had the desired effect, reducing her to a quivering heap of tears, as I walked over and kissed the two little lads goodbye, maybe for the last time, resisting the temptation to spit on the bitch.

Then I left!

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The next few months were a complete mess of course, but in some ways it was my parents who I felt the greatest sorrow for. I was an only child, and though they'd suspected some funny business about the children, they couldn't just stop thinking of them as their grandsons. They were well aware that I'd had the operation as well, so there was no likelihood of any replacements coming along.

What a mess.

What a bloody, stupid mess.

Thomas Martin got his comeuppance though when his wife found out what was going on. When it came out that he'd been bedding Cloe's Mum as well for the last eight years or so, then all hell broke out. Derek, her Dad went round to sort him out, which turned out to be a mistake as he ended up in hospital, and Thomas in the local nick. He didn't spend much time there, but Thomas soon found himself divorced with support to pay to his former wife and kids, and a paternity suit from Cloe.

Derek lost his temper with his wife soon after getting out of hospital and gave his wife a good hiding, and though the police were called, she refused to press charges. They're still together, sort of, but not exactly the happiest couple in the world, with Derek no longer welcome at his precious bleeding golf club, and his wife chucked out of just about everything.

Then just as I was thinking of going to pay a visit to this Thomas Martin, I got the news. It appears that her Mum had set Cloe up from an early age, and the coppers dragged this Martin guy out of the pub one night and charged with having sex with an under age girl. They put him away for four years, and when the full story came out and I doubt that he had a happy time inside. By the time he was released my life had moved on and I never did get round to visiting him. Pity really, but probably just as well, as I could have ended up inside myself.

So what did Cloe do?

I could never forgive the bitch for deceiving me like that, but it appeared that her witch of a mother had offered up her own teenage daughter to Martin on order to keep his interest piqued. Maybe the cops should have arrested her as well?

Strange or otherwise though it may seem, Cloe went to my parents for help, and with my silent agreement, very silent, they sort of took her under their wing. It meant that they could see the two boys regularly as she found a place nearby, her distaste for the area I was bought up in, clearly a thing of the past. The new baby came along, a beautiful little girl and nothing much was said about the fact that she had slightly Asian features and not a trace of red hair, as you can imagine.