Sentenced to Love

"I never cheated on Harry, but there were times I could have. And now, I want to screw you silly, Greg Urban. And I want to make love with you, and fuck you and love you some more.

"That day in your office after Harry left was the most wonderful time I have ever had. In twenty years of marriage to a man I thought I loved, it was never close to that good. I thought I knew what orgasms were, but you took me to places I never even dreamed about. But since then? Why?"

"I guess it's guilt. I feel as though I have blackmailed you into having sex with me, rape by coercion as it were. I do want you. I've wanted you since you walked into the office that morning. I can't tell you how happy what you just said makes me.

"Much as I have wanted you, and knew that you would have let me because of our deal, I wanted, no, I needed you to want me. Not to feel like you owed it to me or were obligated to service me. But to want to be with me because of me."

"You silly goose. We could have thrown the deal out the first day. Just because the sex was so good. Or at the end of the first week because of how I was starting to feel about you." She reached up and pulled his face to hers, started a slow gentle kiss. When she felt his tongue probing, she answered with hers and crawled into his lap. She broke the kiss and said, "Can I ask another question?"

"If you have to."

"Will you make love with me tonight?"

He stood up lifting her, cradled in his arms. "Where's your bedroom?"

"Upstairs, first door on the right. Put me down, I want you in shape to perform as soon as we get up there. You've got six weeks of skizzling to make up for. Damn good thing it's Friday and you don't have anywhere to be before Monday morning."

"Says who?"

"I called and checked your calendar with Nancy. We've gotten to be good friends. She said she misses her mornings with you. Maybe I should invite her to join us sometimes? Or as long as I know who you're doing, it might be alright to do her in the office again."

"I told you I don't share, without consent. I won't share you unless we both consent. I have to like the guy, and so do you. And I won't share me unless you say it's okay. So if you think it's okay for me to start servicing Nancy again, and she wants..." By now,they were in Aymee's bedroom. He caught her as she jumped on him.

"Not until you have fully met your obligations here. The first night we can reduce Harry's sentence, you might have my permission to screw Nancy the next morning, if you can get it up, because I think you're going to be an old, old man."

He dropped her on the bed and then dropped on her, pinning her to the mattress. As he kissed her again, he started removing her clothes, taking every opportunity to feel her B size breasts. Because of her height and relatively broad shoulders, they gave the appearance of being smaller. That they weren't was a pleasant surprise. He nuzzled them, and sucked on her erect nipples as he worked her slacks and panties down her legs.

Once her clothes were removed, he parted her legs and started his tongue working on her slit as he removed his pants and shirt. The effect on her was immediate, sooner than when he had given her head in the office. Her orgasm was almost immediate, and lasted for nearly a minute before she pushed him away.

"Y-Y-Y-Y-ou've got to stop that. 'SSS too much." she croaked out as she caught her breath. "You've got to promise me, no more after I'm eighty."

"Okay," he laughed as he rolled her on top of him. She looked at him, questioning. "Problem?" he asked.

"What do you want me to do," she asked him. "I thought..."

"You've never been on top?"

"No, Harry always had to be on top, face to face. In your office was the first time I had ever done anything else."

Greg had her raise up on her knees, then helped her lean to one side. He then had her reach between her legs and guide him into her vagina. As she slid down his shaft, they both moaned in pleasure. "Damn, you feel good," they said together. They looked at each other in surprise, then laughed.

"Ohhhh," Aymee said, "that tickles so nice."

"Maybe, I should tickle you for real."

"Only if you want to get tickled back," she said reaching around to lightly scratch his sac.

"No, no, I'll just play with these," he said reaching for her tits. As he began to play with her nipples, she searched for her stroke--the one which would pleasure them both the most. She tried quick short strokes, quick long strokes, long, slow strokes, short slow strokes, twisting strokes, both long and short, fast and slow.

She was upright, she lay on his chest and back on his thighs. In a moment of inspiration, she rose up until only his tip was in her and turned around, so she faced his feet, then repeated the motion so she was back facing him. She looked at his surprise and giggled.

"This is fun," she said. "I like being on top. There's a whole lot more to do. You can be on the bottom from now on." He growled and pulled her down to his chest, then rolled over, not losing an inch of penetration. He began stroking in and out, using the same sort of variation she had. Soon he heard her breathing change, and then felt her body tense, as if someone were cocking a crossbow.

Barely a noticeable time later, she screamed in pleasure as her orgasm hit, followed almost immediately by his own explosion of sperm laden fluid deep within her. The feel of the hot liquid bathing her inner walls tripped another spasm of pleasure. And as he pumped out spurt after spurt of his treasure, she was rewarded with distinct, but diminishing pleasure spasms of her own, "except," she continued, as if uninterrupted, gasping slightly, " when you're on top. God, I love you."

"I love you, too. I'm in love with you, and will be as long as you want me."

As they lay there in each others arms, basking in the glorious afterglow, Aymee noticed Greg still wore his tee shirt. "You cold? I'm sure I can warm you up."

"Uhh, no. Just didn't have time to get it off."

Together they pulled and manipulated the shirt over Greg's head. As they lay back down in their cuddle position, Aymee noticed Greg's right chest area. It had a dark brown crescent shape, similar to a crescent moon, right above his nipple. "What's this?" she asked,

"My birth mark, It used to piss my dad off. He said it was bad enough that she had run off, but she had to leave me back with her brand on me."

"With her brand? That's strange. Rob has a similar mark. My mother used to tell me that all the sons born of the women in her family line...Oh my God! What have we done? Did you know about this? You did. I can see it in your face. What have you done? Get off me, now!" She pulled off and away from Greg and ran to the bathroom. He ran after her and got to the door just in time to hear it lock.

"Aymee, let me in. Let me try to explain."

"There isn't any explanation. Leave me alone."

Greg slumped against the wall across from the door. What ever he was going to do, it didn't involve leaving her. He waited. Three minutes, four minutes, they seemed like hours. Six minutes, ten, fifteen, then he heard the lock release, saw the door open.

"Good," she said, "You're still here." She crossed the hall to him, then slapped his face hard enough to rattle his teeth. That slap was followed by a flurry of slaps to his face and head, hard enough to be felt, but not to hurt. Then she jumped in his arms and kissed him, wrapping her legs around him so her still bare pussy trapped his cock against his thigh. When they finally broke the kiss, she took his hand and led him back to the bedroom.

"For better or for worse," she said, "I love you; I am so far in love with you, I can't see any way out. I don't want to see any way out. I want you, only you, for as long as you'll have me. I suppose I should feel ....I don't know, but something other than wanting to be with you like I do." She paused, obviously puzzling something out.

"I can't have any more children, so that is a non-issue. As far as you know, does anyone else know?" Her look said she wanted to forgive him, but wasn't sure she could.

Greg shook his head. "I didn't know for sure. I suspected when I saw your name and your mother's. My mother's name was Angela Villagre. When I was five, she took her newborn baby and ran away from my father. He told me later she couldn't even spell the baby's name right, she had spelled it A-y-m-e-e, not the traditional Amy. And then your last name, Carmody, was the name of mother's best friend, across the back yard.

"When I got old enough to start asking about my mother, Mrs. Carmody told me that my mother had run away to protect her baby girl from my father. I learned after he died he had been tried for sexually abusing young girls. As long as I was home, he seemed to be able to control himself. But when I went away to college, he wrote me that his demons were after him again. The day I got that letter, I heard that he had committed suicide.

"When you came into the office that day, you sort of looked familiar, sort of like her, but it was a very faint memory. And our coloring is so similar, I could have been reacting to that. I wasn't sure, and I was so attracted to you instantly, I didn't want to know. And now that I do know, I don't care. I love you.

"You asked me what have I done. I've fallen in love with my sister. And I want to be with her always."

"What about Harry? What do we do about him?" Greg thought a minute.

"Tell him his sentence has been commuted to time served and advise him to get out of Dodge. Let him sell this house and take what he can from it. I think he'll take the opportunity and leave. I've seen him at work. He's looking pretty seedy lately. Whenever I go around the bullpen, he tries to hide." Greg pulled her close.

"You and the kids can move into my place. It's plenty roomy enough. If they ever notice my crescent, and ask about it. It's a coincidence, or I'm a distant cousin. Or both, I'm a cousin who is a distant coincidence."

"What about what he owes you?"

"I'm going to insist you work it off."

She laughed. "Did you ever try to find us?"

Greg frowned. "There was no way. The letters to Mrs Carmody had a return address and post mark of general delivery, from the main Chicago post office. I ran personal ads in the Chicago papers daily for six months. That was a few years after Dad died. You would have been fourteen when that happened. I graduated three years later. That's when I ran the ads. That would have been the year Mom died, and you got married. No wonder there wasn't any answer."

Aymee disentangled herself from Greg. "I'll be right back, don't go away." She returned shortly with an envelope. "She wrote this the day they discovered the infection. I think she knew she was going to die. She told me to send it to Mrs Carmody, but it came back marked addressee unknown. I held onto it, because it was all I had of her."

Greg opened the letter and quickly scanned it. It was written in the spidery scrawl of someone who obviously was not well, but the handwriting was still graceful, the product of one who enjoyed creating beauty. The content pretty much confirmed what Mrs Carmody had told him, with the added fact that his father had been overheard talking with one of his friends and had been heard to comment that he could hardly wait for Aymee to be old enough to start school, the age of the girl he had been charged with molesting. His mother said she couldn't take the chance he would change, and begged Greg's forgiveness for leaving him alone with such an evil man.

Greg shook his head. His dad hadn't been all evil. Despite his father's flaw, Greg had developed a moral foundation and a set of personal ethics which had led him to both personal and professional success.

His dad had been sick and realized it. While Greg was home, he was able to help keep his father on the medication which controlled his urges. When Greg went off to college, his ability to influence his dad left with him.

"Did you read it?" he asked Aymee.

"Yeah, when it came back. But there was no name, no hint of who to look for. I called information for the town in the address--Pekin?--but they didn't have any listing for a Carmody.

"We had settled in a small town about fifteen miles southwest of Notre Dame. During the period you were advertising, Mom was in the hospital. I don't think I saw a paper in that period, and I probably wasn't looking in the personals anyway.

"I'm so sorry. It would have been nice to have a big brother back then. I didn't even know about you until I read the letter. Mom just said she had run away from an unhappy marriage." Greg put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

"So, Mrs Jenkins, getting back to what I mentioned earlier. Will you come live in sin with me? Or better yet, will Aymee Jenkins, nee Carmody, marry Greg Urban, successful entrepreneur? As far as the government knows, it's legal, and there is no one alive but us to know otherwise."

She pulled in closer to him, inhaled his smell and felt comforted, and secure. "God knows, I want to," she said and hesitated, " want to jump your bones." she continued, jumping into his lap and straddling his legs. impaling her pussy on his cock, "Of course I'll marry you, silly goose, why do you think you're still here?" She kissed him passionately, starting a tongue duel. Breaking off the kiss, she leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Oh, and about Nancy, no. I don't share anymore, either."