The Finer Points of Sheila Ch. 04

"Haven't seen you in awhile," she said, looking at me expectantly.

"I've been really busy, you know?" I said, taking another bite of cheeseburger. "I have a couple months before I start at the Institute. I want all my ducks in a row."

Elle nodded. "Of course."

There was an awkward silence.

Elle nodded her head to the sketch of her mother. "She's beautiful."

"Yes she is," I replied. "Does it freak you out I drew her like that?"

"No," Elle shook her head. "I can appreciate fine art."

"Thank you," I smiled, genuinely flattered and relieved.

"You know," Elle leaned forward, her elbows braced on the edge of the small table and a sly, knowing look shadowed over her face, "She never smiles like that anymore."

"Well," I shrugged, "Life's been tough for you guys."

"Yeah, it has. But, it's been really tough lately."

I didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry Elle."

"Why don't you come over anymore?" she asked.

"I told you," I frowned, "I've been busy."

"It's not because of me, right?" she asked, looking again at the sketch of her mother.

"No Elle," I reassured her, "It's not you."

"Then what is it?"

"You're worrying too much," I laughed, trying to change the subject. She was acting like she wanted to tell me something, or like maybe she was fishing around for information. It occurred to me she might know something had happened between her mom and me, even without Brett's help. Seeing that sketch I'm sure raised some questions, and she seemed to have a few on the tip of her tongue.

"Doug?" she took my hand, her thumb rubbing my finger. It was such a unique, familiar gesture Sheila and I had shared that I had to fight the urge to jerk my hand back. But I didn't.

"Yeah?" I asked, feeling sick all over again.

"I know you and my mom have been seeing each other."

"What?" I laughed, trying my best to keep my composure. Inside, I was falling apart at the seams. Oh God she knew.

"She was the happiest when you were around," Elle said matter-of-factly, "And now she can hardly go an hour without crying. Don't fucking bullshit me here, okay?"

"Okay," I said quietly, resigning myself to inevitable. I was busted.

"How long?"

I sighed. "About a month."

"When did it start?"

"The night I brought you home from the party," I explained, trying to pick the right words, "You were drunk off your ass and had punched me when I tried to get you home, remember? Sheila, I mean your mom, cleaned up the mess you made of my face. And then we got to talking about how bad her marriage was and one thing led to another and... well, you know."

"I know," she looked away, her expression unreadable. "Was it you Brett saw at the hotel with her that night?"

"Yes."

"You made Brett change his story?"

"Yes, I did."

"How?" she asked.

"I threatened to rat him out to the cops," I answered.

"Jesus, Doug."

"I'm so sorry, Elle," I said, "I never wanted you or her to get hurt."

Elle paused for a moment, looking at the sketch again. "You know, dad treats her like shit. We all know it. And I love my dad, even though he doesn't deserve it. He's a fucking pig and I hate the fact that I love him sometimes. I don't think he ever really loved mom, and I don't think she ever really loved him. I don't know if they stayed together because they wanted me to have both parents, or if they were too scared to be alone or both..."

I said nothing. I only listened.

"One thing I do know," Elle said, "Mom has never been as happy as she was when she was with you. And I've never seen you change so much."

"I changed?" I asked.

"You and I have always shared a really good chemistry. I think we both know we wanted to hook with each other. You had the chance to cheat on her with me... and until now, lets be honest... monogamy wasn't really your forte," she said, "You used to be quite the player, Doug. I can say that because we can smell our own, right?"

"Yeah," I agreed.

"But when you said no that night, I knew that whoever the woman was in your life she must be someone amazing. That said to me you'd grown up a lot. I was impressed."

"I'm glad."

I was almost ready to pass out from anxiety

"I'm not happy you two hid this from me," Elle looked at me, "And I don't agree with it at all, Doug. I think you two need to have your heads examined. But all that being said, I know how happy you two make each other. And that's a rare thing."

I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say. "Are you saying that Sheila and I should be together?"

Elle laughed, her eyes rolled in disbelief. "Yeah, Sherlock. It's the craziest fucking thing this side of 'The Graduate' but yes I think so. Especially considering the circumstances."

"What?" I asked incredulously, "She getting back together with your dad. She broke up with me and sent me packing without so much as a good bye."

Elle frowned. "Dad is living in the city with his ex girlfriend. Mom signed divorce papers yesterday."

"What?"

"Doug," Elle looked at me wide-eyed. "Don't you know?"

"Know what, Elle?"

She looked away, suddenly embarrassed. "Jesus, I shouldn't be the one to tell you this."

"Well, Sheila isn't talking to me, so why don't you just throw me a bone here," I said, feeling angry, worried and happy all at the same time.

"I found a pregnancy test in the trash two weeks ago," Elle told me as gently as she could.

I felt my mouth go dry and arid. "And?"

Elle leaned in and whispered, "It was positive."

Fuck me running.

I sat frozen for a moment. "Oh."

"Yeah," she raised her brow and added, "Big Daddy."

"She's pregnant?"

"Yes," Elle said.

"This is why she blew me off," I groaned, "She was trying to save my future at the Institute. She thinks she's doing me a favor...Oh fuck. Are you sure?"

"Dead sure," Elle held my hand.

"Oh my God."

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"No!" I exclaimed and then said, "Well yes... but no... Ah shit!"

"What are you going to do?"

"What can I do? She thinks she's going to ruin my life."

"Go talk to her," Elle suggested, "She's home."

"You think so?" I frowned, uncertain. "Will she talk to me?"

"I think so."

I sat back in my chair, my mind running at about a thousand miles per hour. Sheila was pregnant. Ever single option, every single possible outcome of this situation raced in front of my eyes in a flash. I felt so overwhelmed I could hardly breathe as I accepted this fact. I knew in that moment my life would never be the same again, and the choices I made in the next few hours would dictate all the years to come. I looked at my best friend, desperate for advice and counsel on what the fuck to do. I had just impregnated a 45-year-old woman as I prepared to go to college. The woman I loved was going to have my baby.

"My parents are going to murder me," I finally said.

"Yes they are," Elle nodded sympathetically.

"I have to go and talk to her. This is too big," I gathered up my sketchbook and pencils.

"Doug," Elle grabbed my arm.

"Yeah?"

"Do you love her?" she asked, her voice so honest and tender that it made my heart break all over again, but in the best way possible.

I smiled. "With all my heart."

Elle smiled the first genuine smile I had seen on her face in a long time. She motioned for me to leave and said, "No matter what happens, you can count on two things: I'll always be here for you... and I will never call you Dad."

I laughed. "Thank you."

I kissed her on the cheek and ran for the parking lot.

***

I hit my knee on the corner of Sheila's house so hard as I ran up to the door that I had to hop on one foot. I cursed the whole way up the walk and braced myself on the doorjamb as I knocked. I waited a few minutes and there was no reply. I knew she could see me from the peephole in the door. I knocked again, this time harder and louder. I knew the neighbors might see me, but I didn't give a fuck.

"Sheila?" I called, "Sheila, it's me, Doug. Open up, okay? We need to talk."

Nothing from behind the door.

"Sheila, come on..."

I decided to go for broke.

"Look," I said into the door, "I know Tom is still in the city and he's not coming back."

No response. The birds in the oak trees lining the property chirped and squawked their opinion.

"Sheila," I breathed, resting my forehead against the cool wood of door, "What do you think you're going to prove by doing this?"

From behind the door finally came, "Please go home."

"I am not going home," I glared at the door, "You've never treated me like some fucking kid until now. Are you dismissing me, Mrs. Crane?"

"It's not like that, okay?" she said, her voice muffled and barely audible from behind the door. "Don't make this harder than it has to be, Doug.

"Open the door," I stood back. "Please?"

Silence.

"Sheila, at least hear me out... then I'll leave for good. Okay?"

The lock disengaged and the door slowly creaked open. From the narrow sliver of space between the door and frame, I saw her standing there. She wore a baggy t-shirt and shorts, her hair disheveled and her eyes bloodshot and puffy. Her face was placid and yet pained all the way across. I looked over her shoulder and saw a large box of tissues and a huge box of chocolates. Part of me smiled inside.

"Don't do this," I said.

"Doug," she closed her eyes, tired and worn out, "You don't understand."

"Elle told me about the pregnancy test," I shot at her. I didn't want to give her time to think or counter. I wanted her off balance and forced to look at the truth. Her eyes grew wide with recognition as I spoke, and she knew she had been caught.

"She had no right," Sheila began, her fist balled up as she leaned against the frame.

"Maybe she didn't," I agreed, "But she figured it out, Sheila. She knows about us. She knows everything."

Sheila's face suddenly drained to ghostly white. "Oh no..."

"It's okay though," I smiled, "She didn't freak out. She's not happy with us, but she isn't going to kill us either."

That grabbed her attention for a moment, and I thought I had finally gotten through to her. But then she said, "That doesn't matter Doug. You're going to start school here, and you have so much to do. You can't be playing house with me and make your career happen."

"Who says I can't do both?" I demanded, "I know you think you're doing the right thing, but come on. We crossed a big fucking line here, and we can't just hop back across it. And if you think I'm just going to up and leave because you're afraid of all this, then you don't know me at all."

"I'm not afraid," she said, unconvinced and without any conviction.

"Bull shit," I laughed, "You're as scared as I am. I'm terrified right now."

I put my hands on her shoulders, wedging the door open some more.

"I wasn't expecting this," she whispered, and then after a moment, "I don't want you to resent me..."

I moved close to her and tilted her face up to meet mine. "I love you, with all my heart. I'm not leaving you."

"But the Art Institute," she reminded me.

"I can commute. It's not that far a drive. And besides, you're worth it," I replied flatly and gently placed my hand over her stomach, "And so is this."

Sheila said nothing.

"I love you," I told her.

Sheila looked at me. "I love you too."

I leaned in and kissed her. She pulled me close to her and I had never felt so safe in my entire life. Her hands held to me with a need that was more intense than any I had ever felt from her. Our kisses were long and embellished, saying everything we couldn't say to each other and sealing our commitment to each other. I was still scared. I was scared of what my family would say about all this and of the unknown future. But with Sheila, I felt like I could face it all with strength.

We shuffled into the living room, still joined at the lips. Our tongues grazed and slid together with a hot passion. My cock had become rock hard simply from kissing her, and Sheila was already rubbing her palm over the bulge in my jeans. She took extra care to make her breasts press against me firmly, to make their soft pressure known. My hands ran through her hair, caressing her neck and pulling her deeper into the kiss.

"Are you sure about this, Doug?" she asked, breaking our kiss, her hand still rubbing me.

"Absolutely," I smiled, my fingers running along the inside of her t-shirt, tugging and pulling.

"It's not going to be easy," she cautioned me.

I shrugged. "We'll manage."

Sheila raised her arms up and I pulled her shirt over her head. I tossed it away and marveled at her impossibly large breasts, the familiar milky quality to them. I leaned forward and kissed them, licking and suckling slowly, simply enjoying her silky skin and the hard buds of her nipples. I took her left nipple into my mouth and rolled my tongue along it. She murmured her approval and ran her hands up and down my back as I guided her to the couch and continued sucking on her.

My hand found its way over her right breast, cupping and massaging it for a few moments before I slid down over her stomach, around to her hips and to the elastic waistband of her shorts. Sheila slid her bottoms off, and as with her wearing no bra, she wore no underwear now. Her beautiful, shaven pussy was glistening with moisture. Her particular musk was heavy as I dragged my tongue lower from her breast to her navel. I inhaled her deeply, taking her in and relishing every moment of being down there.

Sheila smiled lovingly at me and leaned back against the couch as I braced her thighs on my shoulders. I kissed the tender flesh of her inner thighs and licked my way up to her slit. I slowly dragged my tongue over the soft, warm mound and tasted her sweet sex. She moaned a little and I began lapping at her cunt, playing with and teasing the folds as she became more and more wet. I started slipping my tongue into her hot interior, working it in circles. Sheila shifted her weight and cupped her breasts, one in each hand. She started rubbing and pinching her nipples as I drove my tongue deeper inside.

"Doug," she whispered huskily, her hands unable to contain her heavy tits. I looked up and saw her face. Her eyes were closed and a half smile was on her lips as she played with her breasts, tweaking her nipples. Her hips began to work a small rhythm against my tongue, and that's when I turned my attention to her clit. The small love button was now hard and protruding out. I suckled on it and teased it. Sheila jumped a little, hitching a deep breath and moaning loudly now.

"Oh fuck," she muttered breathlessly. "Yes..."

I played with her clit, rolling my tongue against it, nibbling it and suckling on it as I slid a finger into her cunt and began gently going in and out.

Sheila's breathing was becoming hard and short. I slid my hands up to her breasts and took over working on them for her. My finger was wet with her juices, and she took a moment to suck my finger into her mouth.

I rubbed and massaged her breasts as I worked for her orgasm. My only thought was of making her cum, making her scream out loud. I wanted her to feel good, to feel good about herself and about me.

I started flicking her clit with my tongue, my face soaked from her wetness.

"Oh Doug, fuck," she growled, "I'm going to cum."

Her hips buckled wildly as the orgasm shot through her suddenly, taking her off guard. She screamed out and gripped the couch cushions, bunching the upholstery in her tight fists. Her thighs squeezed around my head as she rode the orgasm. With every breath, she whimpered and moaned. This only served to turn me on even more as I listened to her throaty moans of satisfaction.

I licked my lips and eyed her. "How was that?"

"Long overdue," she laughed and motioned to me with her finger. "Come here."

I stood up and took my shirt off, tossing it across the room. She pulled me to her and we kissed again. She tasted her own sweet nectar as we kissed. She fumbled with my zipper for a moment and then pulled my pants down. They were loose fitting, so they just slid right down my legs. I kicked my shoes off and then my pants. She yanked my boxers down, still kissing me as we settled in on the couch. She grasped my stony seven and a half-inch cock with her perfect hands and began stroking me.

"That feels so good," I breathed into her ear.

"You know what else feels really good?" she whispered back, her thumb rubbing the swollen head of cock.

"What?"

"When you fuck my tits," she smiled.

"That's very true," I smiled.

"Fuck my tits Doug," she massaged my testicles, "I want you to fuck them."

I straddled myself over her, my heavy balls resting on her smooth abdomen as she grasped my shaft and placed it between her breasts. She pushed them together and my cock was gone, hidden by her fleshy tits. The sensation of all that warm, silky skin enveloping my dick was almost too much as I started rocking my hips.

"I may not last long," I managed as I watched my head poke out from her cleavage in time with my thrusts.

"That's the point, lover," she grinned wickedly, "I want you to cum quick. The first one is always quick. So just think about how good it's going to feel let go of all that hot..."

She was going to talk dirty. I couldn't believe it.

"... sticky..."

She was turning me on so much it almost hurt as my hips worked faster, under their own will and instinct.

"... tasty cum," she teased me, alternately licking my head as it popped out. She continued, "Don't you want to cum on me, Doug?"

"Yes," I breathed, my body going taut and rigid as I felt the build-up in my groin.

"Don't you want to cum on my tits?" she egged me on, knowing damn good and well what she was doing to me. "Would you like me to lick it off and swallow it?"

"Fuck yes," I managed.

"Then do it Doug," she licked my head again, "Cum for me..."

"Oh fuck," I huffed, my cock stiffening to a rigid rod of steel, "Fuck..."

"Yes baby," she moaned and then I shot my load. I groaned against my teeth as my orgasm arced through me like a bolt of electricity. I watched the long, ropy spurts of cum jet out from my head and splash her face, her hair, her neck and her tits. I continued to spurt gob after gob of semen onto her until finally the primal enthusiasm of my sex drive began to subside.

"My god, that was a load," she marveled and started rubbing my cum over her breasts, making them shine in the afternoon light. A long, stubborn rope of the white substance had come to rest on her neck and chin. She took one finger and scooped the semen up. She looked at me casually and then sucked it off her finger. She briefly opened her mouth just before she swallowed, and I could see my cum on her tongue.

I leaned down and kissed her deeply, my semen sliding wetly between our bodies. She wrapped her legs around me and kept my recovering member pressed against her pussy.

"You know," she said in between kisses, "We don't have to use condoms anymore for awhile."

"I think we didn't use them enough as it is," I commented.

Sheila laughed and gave me a look of such complete trust and affection.

"You want to fuck?" she grinned.

"Hell yes," I kissed her gently. We switched positions and she mounted me, not taking any time to gently let my cock enter. I slid in fast, clear to the hilt as she opened her mouth, gasping. I could tell I was stretching her a little as she slowly started riding my dick. She braced herself against me, hands on my chest, her pussy tight around me, her tits hanging down glistening with beads of sweat.

As we humped, the back of the couch began to knock against the wall. I heard myself moaning out loud, something I rarely do, as she fucked me. With each movement, she would give her downward thrust a slight spin, so there was more friction between us. I massaged her tits as we fucked, and her moaning became more and more pronounced. The effect was immediate as felt myself nearing the point of orgasm. Her fingernails latched into the meat of my pecs as I grabbed her ass, letting her tits bounce and sway.