Be Not Forgetful

***

When Matthew came over for dinner Thursday night, there was a strong sexual charge in the air between us. Every time we touched it was as if sparks jumped. Surges of heat pulsed through my body, causing my nipples to rise and my centre to drip. I was sure my lower lips were engorged, welcoming the maleness it was not my karma to have, not that night.

We stayed away from each other as much as we could, each fully aware of the other and of the conflagration that waited between us, only waiting on a lowly spark to set it off and devour us both. I appreciated Matthew's forbearance, though my own desires were strong. He was as much in pain as was I. Yet the needs of the girls, especially Tabitha, overrode my desire to take the handsome Matthew to my bed. Those needs could be met and be satisfied, allowing me my own satisfaction in the arms of my man - tomorrow.

Matthew kissed me lightly as he left that night, as reluctant to go as I was anxious for him to stay, but we had agreed to make our first time together unrushed.

"Times," he'd corrected me with a grin. I blushed. Twenty-five, a once married woman, and I blushed. He did too, though.

I wasn't much use Friday. Perhaps I figured it out when I found myself going through the pages of the romance novel I was supposed to be editing looking for the passionate parts. Oh my, I could never do that. Or could I? Would Matthew like it? Would I like it? I chucked it aside and focussed on loving Celia, something that didn't require any effort. She was becoming her own person already. I could see the resemblance to Tabitha, but she was far from a carbon copy. I played with her most of the morning, between her naps.

Tabitha and I spent time together and with Celia that afternoon after she returned from school. I had an urge to reconnect to both of them, in some way to assure them that bringing another person into our arrangement, especially a man as wonderful as Matthew, didn't mean I loved them less. I hoped that it would let me love them more, since love multiplies. True love never divides. And it never goes away. I only hoped Matthew felt the same.

Matthew's look when he came to the door might have seared me. His eyes were frank, appraising, ripping the clothes off my back. There was fire there, a wanting that thrilled me. No one had ever wanted me as fiercely as he did. There was more. Deep in his eyes there was a longing.

Again we stayed apart, certain, both of us, that if we touched the fires would spill over, shocking Tabitha, though Celia likely wouldn't care. From what little she'd said about her mother and her "uncles", Tabitha might not have been shocked, either, but that wasn't the kind of home I meant her to have.

Matthew spent mealtime paying attention to Tabitha, learning of her week in school and her successes and, remarkably few, her failures. He was generous with advice, off the cuff as if it was something she might want to think about, not directive, letting her pick and choose. He was so good with her. He was pretty good with me, too.

Once Celia had been put down and Tabitha had been read to, Matthew pulled me in to him for a long lingering kiss. His eyes were vulnerable, molten with the heat of his arousal, his barely leashed passion leaping from them, arousing me in a way no man had ever done. Excitement spun through me. The waiting was over. My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear. The pounding dropped through my body until it concentrated in my loins, on fire for him. I wanted him, needed him, longed for him.

He kissed, a fierce, possessive taking of my body and my mouth. I joined him, as rapacious as he was, my tongue swirling with his as we explored our mouths together, weakening knees, losing touch with our surroundings, knowing only each other.

He stumbled over to my overlarge armchair, dropped down into its comfortable depths and pulled me down on top of him. His hands slowly picked at the buttons on my blouse, loosening my top, pulling it down over my shoulders, my arms, until it was gone. I pushed into him, my breasts on fire for his touch. He reached behind, slipped the catch on my bra and pulled it away.

"First time that ever worked so well," he muttered, as much to himself as to me.

He held me back from him for a few moments, transfixed by what he saw. I blushed. I wasn't all that much, as Tabitha had reminded me.

"You're beautiful," he told me, underscoring his words with kisses and caresses. "The most beautiful of women."

"Liar," I laughed, embarrassed by his praise.

"No, the truth, Amelia, nothing but truth."

Matthew hitched me higher on his lap and dropped his head to taste my breasts. One hand circled and caressed my other breast, one slid up and down my bare back. He ran his tongue lightly over my left breast, round and round until it encountered my areola, then slid in to my upright nipple. My nipple felt like it had been aroused and erect for days, waiting for this moment. With his left hand he mimicked the travels of his tongue. There was no way his fingers could mimic his mouth as he drew me in and suckled gently, caressing me with his tongue, allowing the slightest touch of teeth. I was sure I was on the verge of orgasm, burning from his touch, hot and wet for him.

Car lights flashed across us, buried as we were in the dark of my living room.

"We need the couch," he growled, unwilling to let me go when the lights startled me.

"We need a bed, Matthew. There aren't any curtains down here. No neighbours, no man, no need," I explained. My mouth was rambling. His touch had inflamed me, and what little caution I still possessed was directed towards finding a bed. There had to be an end to my frustration. His as well. I dithered.

"We can't use my bed. Tabitha's there. We can't use hers. There isn't enough room. We can't do anything in the third room; no bed and no space. Oh God!" My need was spiralling out of control, and I was afraid the kitchen table was going to have to be the romantic setting for the final culmination of the love we had for each other. Bloody damn.

I think Matthew only heard the word "bed" when I mentioned Tabitha's room, for he was pulling me - maybe steering me was a better word, since I felt no reluctance, only eagerness to have him in my arms again.

We toppled onto the single bed, buried in our wanting, our hands grasping, our bodies pushed together. Matthew pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, pulled me into his lap and returned his attentions to my aching breasts. Under my bottom I could feel him, turgid, hard with need, for need of me. Each scalding touch of his tongue on my nipple drew a moan for me, me signalling my wants, my desires, my pleasures. Matthew groaned.

"So sweet, so sweet."

He buried his face between my breasts, cupped each breast with a palm. His avid mouth found a nipple again, then the other, taking their hot sweetness in with a soft suck, letting them go, sucking them once more, driving me insane. I rubbed his chest, fingers adoring his muscles, his back, gliding over the smooth plains, his nipples, almost as sensitive as mine. I kissed his ear, twirling my tongue inside, feeling him jump as he continued to feast on me. I trawled my tongue down the curve of his neck from the sensitive places behind his ear to the pulse point below, feeling his heart hammering.

He smelled of Old Spice, a touch of cinnamon, and something I can't describe, soap and a clean him. Sweat started to bead on his forehead. I licked the sweat from his upper lip. He kissed me again, his tongue thrusting now as if it were him thrusting into my body. I responded, pushing back. His hands dawdled at my waist, undoing my slacks. All I could think of was that if I'd had the sense to wear a dress I'd be naked with him now.

I undid his pants as well. We separated long enough to push off the last of our clothes. The nightlight showed me a beautiful man, slim, solid, in the peak of condition, fully aroused. I wondered what he saw? What I felt like was a body on fire, blushes everywhere, nipples aroused, labia swollen and wanting. He looked . . . hungry. He stared as if he was a starving man. He turned me on to the bed, lowered me to my back and stretched over me, settling between my thighs.

"Amelia. I can't wait. I wanted to go slow. I can't wait."

"We have all night, Matthew. I want you too - now."

He rubbed himself against me, inflaming me more, driving me crazy for him, and then the tip of him, rounded and hard, steel under velvet, as he slowly entered me for the first time. It seemed to be torturing him to go slow. He knew I was no virgin, knew, too, that I had not been with a man in five years, perhaps longer. I was wet and hot, welcoming, fully able to take him in as he finally thrust almost to my womb, his balls coming to a stop against my labia as he came fully inside. He tried to withdraw, then, but I stopped him, content to savour his maleness as it filled me, comforting me in a way no other man had before.

He slid his fingers across my clitoris and I gave a jump, releasing him, then pushing up for more of him. He started a rhythm, not fast, and I matched it, without fumbling. We suited well. After a time the spiralling waves of heat and electricity forced me to increase our speed and I pushed while he, too sped up, and then I was off somewhere out of control, floating among the stars, lost to the pleasure of my orgasm. Faintly I could hear him muttering, shouting, spilling himself inside me again and again.

We curled up together, panting with the force of our orgasms.

"Never been like that, never," Matthew told me lovingly.

"Not for me, either," I told him honestly.

After a short while, we made long, slow, leisurely love, the way Matthew had intended. He gave me orgasm after orgasm. When we finally came together, we slumped over and slept in exhaustion, tight in each other's arms.

Celia woke about two, and after I changed and fed her, Matthew took me in his arms and made sweet love to me once again. Gave the early morning feeding an entirely new feel. I knew I could get used to this. I hoped I had the chance to.

In the morning, just as we were commencing our daylight explorations, with hopefully another joining, Tabitha came in.

"You know, if you'd asked, I'd have let you have the big bed," she announced.

***

For the next little while, Matthew and I made many efforts to destroy my bed. He didn't go home much anymore. As he put it, he was mostly at home, and didn't go back to his other place too often.

I watched carefully, but Tabitha didn't seem to be disturbed. She welcomed Matthew into our little family, almost as if she'd set out herself to trap him. For all I knew, she had.

***

A few days before Christmas, Matthew and I were talking in bed, after an episode of incredible sex, sort of waiting to get our bodies back up to speed for another episode of incredible sex, the way it always seemed to be for us.

"Well, Amelia, have you decided what you're going to do about the girls after Christmas?"

"I told you before. I'm going to have to give them up, and I'm going to hate it."

"Would you keep them if you could?"

"Damn right. Forever and ever. But I can't see that happening."

"We'll talk about it after Christmas."

He raised himself over me and I saw that he, at least, had recovered. I felt pretty lustful myself. We set apart the questions about the future of my children and made love again. It was incredible, just as we expected. My I loved that man.

The thought startled me, and then it comforted me, and I could see myself spending a lot of time with this man, maybe even a lifetime. Time to deal with that after Christmas, too.

***

Christmas morning Tabitha came to wake us early, as all six-year-olds did. We growled a little to make her feel good, then pulled on pyjamas and robes. Matthew wanted to give me the right kind of Christmas greeting, but Tabitha was still right outside the door.

"Later," I growled, just about as anxious as he was to greet the day properly.

I picked up Celia, did a quick check to make sure she was dry, and followed Tabitha and Matthew to the Christmas tree. We opened our presents. It had been very hard to be restrained, but Matthew and I had managed to keep our presents for the girls down to a dull roar. They ended up with what most children of our acquaintance would have considered a very mean Christmas indeed, but it was far more than they'd ever had before, so I thought we'd probably done a good job with our balancing act.

"Tabitha," Matthew started, "there are a very few more presents, but I need to know they'll be appreciated. You know that Amelia won't be a foster parent after New Year's. That means if we don't find an answer, you and Celia will be leaving."

"Will we be able to stay together?"

"I can't promise that."

I wondered why Matthew had decided to spoil Christmas for the girls with all this talk of separation and leaving. It was spoiling it for me. Then he winked at me, and turned back to Tabitha.

"Tell me, Tabitha, if there was one thing you could have in this world, anything at all, your most favourite dream, what would it be."

Tabitha thought for a moment.

"Does it have to be real?"

"No, dear, what your heart wants most."

"Then I want 'Melia, I mean Amelia, to be my for real mommy forever and always. That's what I truly want most and I asked Santa and he never answered."

"But Christmas isn't over yet, and I have a present for you."

He held out an envelope to Tabitha, one of those letter-size ones most documents fit into these days. She took it and felt it and looked quizzically at Matthew.

"What is it?"

Matthew opened the envelope and drew out some papers.

"This grants your wish, Tabitha. This is a court order authorizing the adoption of Tabitha Jane Princeton and Celia Anne Princeton by Amelia Jane Princeton, effective this morning. That means Amelia is your mommy for real, just as you asked."

I started to cry and Tabitha started to cry and Matthew took Celia and Tabitha and I cried and hugged and thought there had never been a Christmas like this and there couldn't be a better one.

I got Matthew alone for a moment.

"How'd you manage this, Santa?"

"Remember all those documents last September? You should always read what you sign."

Matthew turned back to Tabitha. I'd been had, and I didn't care and it was just about perfect.

"Is there anything else you'd really like?"

"Well, I don't want to be greedy, but I'd really like a daddy, too, if it could be you, Matthew."

Matthew grinned at her.

"Give me a minute, and I'll see what I can do."

He stretched his fingers as if he was about to do magic. He smoothed his hair down very ostentatiously, knelt down on the floor with an appropriate moan, took my hand and raised it to his lips in a most courtly manner and asked:

"Amelia, my love, will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?"

"Yes, love, I will." There was no way I was going to dither over that answer.

The ring was a beautiful sapphire, set with a couple of diamond chips, very sweet. Tabitha liked it almost as much as the thought that she was getting a daddy. Not quite as much as the thought that she was keeping her mummy.