A Closed-In Family Affair

She wouldn't let him go and offered caresses with her arms and legs to his body. The dam of restraint had been burst, wildly, and there was no turning back from these hot moments of shared carnality. He had wanted that and she had succumbed, lust overcoming all reason and restraint. She had cum so fucking hard, as friends might have said of their lovers, but with Tony, she was there in body and mind. It was a love of a forbidden but treasured kind that she had pursued with him.

She was spent and a shower would revive her.

'I'm sorry...' she said, shivering as Tony finally withdrew from her body and she saw the glow on his skin where they had been so lustfully joined.

'For what Betsy girl?' he smiled across the space between them. 'You loved with me in a fantastic way...long and sensual. You were wild and untamed...I loved it and I needed moments such as we have had. It will be difficult to keep my hands from you while you are here. The time must be approaching when...'

'Don't say it,' she whispered and moved to press down against him Her vacation would soon be at an end and she would have to live through the emotional maelstrom that was so often student life, existing with the memories of what she had shared with him and that no one could ever be told of. She had been loved by him not abused, as some might look upon their trysts if they continued.

'I've loved what you agreed to do for me,' he kissed and drew her to him. Betsy stroked a hand over his chest and down over his belly and did so wondrously.

'And I love the man you have always been to me.'

She lay down against his chest and looked at the now flaccid length of flesh that had pleased her beyond imagining. Her body ached, and the skin of her thighs was clammy from all that he had expelled into her. She chose not to think of it as having shared in 'unprotected' sex. She had loved and would resort to what was necessary to prevent her young body from becoming the crucible in which a new life was made. Something would make her rely on luck; anything that she did to lessen the pleasure she had taken from being with him would be to spoil what had been shared and given.

It was far from simple, all that had arisen between them, but everything had become what she wished for. It was to make Tony's present as close to how it had once been. Moralizing was for others; loving was for them. How they had loved, the illicit nature of it like an unquenchable aphrodisiac!

4

'Sad news...'

The text message icon that she saw on the screen filled her with dread, her mother's few words asking that she called back as soon as she could letting her know the worst. The lecture was over so she could deal with it, somehow and alone.

She had always been his 'darling Bee', right up to the end, even on an afternoon when they had again been alone in the house, Tony working at something and she packing her last few things before she left for Uni. Separation would become an aching reality once more; that texts, calls, and the photo she had on her iPhone were poor replacements.

'Have you got a few moments?' was all that Tony had texted and she had gone to him.

They had made love, and afterward, he had brought her a washcloth from the small en-suite bathroom that was a part of his suite of rooms. It had been warm, wet, and fleecy and she had allowed him to clean her skin; to wipe away what had been so passionately expelled into her and that leaked out, the whiteness of his semen like a soft glaze on the pink folds of her pussy.

Tony had then stood at the window, had closed in again on himself, as a thunderstorm raged outside, the lightning shimmering of his skin and his white body hair seeming to glow, his tousled hair making her think he was wearing a crown whenever a lightning flash lit up the room.

It seemed so silly to think of all that, now, but at the time she had thought it to be an omen. The reality, now, was so much worse. He had loved and captivated her all over again; he had made her forget what others would think if they ever discovered what they had done.

The gutters soon overflowed, and a torrent of water cascaded down to the garden below them.

She had seen him turn and look her way as she sat on their love bed, her arms about her raised knees as she gazed back at him, her breasts pressed against them. She had not kept from his sight their curvy swell, their indolent sag. She was curvaceous, and he had become enchanted by her, he had told her, and she had succumbed to his lust for her and she for him.

He had held out a hand and she had rushed to be in his arms once more. She had clutched one of his hands to her breasts and he had gently tugged and pinched on her achingly sore nipples, moved to claim them, and all of it done in silent homage to her and in gratitude for what she had agreed to bring to him once more.

How easy it had been to be aroused by the man she now had memories of and nothing more. The note that came with the framed photograph would be slipped behind it, between the picture and the board that acted as a sturdy backing, along with its stand.

'A perfect picture of how I felt every time that I was with you,' he had written.

'Can I escape from this, tell me?' he had whispered, that last time they had been together and naked in each other's arms, as his mouth hovered over her lips and she had met his stare. 'Can I escape from what I want from you and do not deserve...to claim your attention when I need it and you have everything still before you?'

'Let me decide on that,' she had replied, 'and when I am ready. I'm not there yet.'

She had pulled on his hand, caressed his skin with agile fingers, and taken him back to bed. There followed wholly different acts of loving, the fashioning of an emotional and physical bond; her body soon plumbed in ways that she knew would never be repeated...not ever and not with him.

Her Tony, her forbidden lover and source of encouragement, had given her a photo frame, wrapped in plain paper. The reasons for him giving it to her were more important than the wrapping. She could look at the photograph of them together whenever she chose. The memories of the man, what she had discovered with him and then shared, would not fade.

He was gone, she knew that now and ringing her mother would only have the fact put into words. Her lover, without equal, was gone. The passionate intensity that had characterized their last times together was at an end.

Tony had been her friend and lover. That came first and foremost. Only then could she think of him as an uncle.

She would never look at how it had once been between them in any other way.

♥