Dad Ch. 02: Luke 8.8 - Iss 01x1

Dad - Chapter 2 - Luke 8.8 - Iss 1x1

a) Call for Aid

Aunt Rose called us at least twice a day, every day, after the funeral.

She had to tell us this, or that.

What was happening there, or here?

She asked us what about that, or this?

Was it alright if this, or that?

Mum was losing her patience, barely holding herself together, even publicly. I could see it plainly.

*

We were a fortnight past the funeral, when Mum went to see Dad's brother Tony about something in Dad's Will. I had decided that I might as well get started on sorting out the garage, that still had car‑generations of odds-and-ends of left-over spares and old cast-offs, so I was sweating in a singlet and an old (and small) pair of badminton shorts, when I heard the phone ringing, but before I could reach it, it cut-off. The caller-display informed me that the caller was Aunt Rose.

I tried to persuade myself that she would probably try to bend my ear about something, or deafen me with her sobs (still a common occurrence), so I should avoid talking to her. But on the other hand, I always got a kick out of talking to Rose.

I called her. She answered after a couple of rings, and I 'introduced' myself.

"Oh, hello Andrew. Is your Mum there?"

"No, she's gone to Uncle Tony's."

"Oh. Are you busy at the moment, or can you spare some time to do something for me?"

"Umm. I was doing some clearing up, but it's not urgent. What is it? Do I need to bring anything with me?"

"Oh, no. When your Dad did it for me he didn't bring anything special with him, so just come as you are."

"OK, let me get changed and I'll be over."

"Why do you need to get changed?"

"I've been working in old shorts and vest."

"NO!" she blurted out, "Er ... that is ... don't worry about that." she continued a little breathlessly, "What I need doing doesn't need you to be smart, just here."

"OK, I'm on my way."

"Ooooh-Goody-Goody!" I thought I heard her mutter.

"What?"

"It's good that you can leave immediately."

"OK. See you shortly."

*

When she opened the door to me, she was wearing a pale blue button-through mini-dress; and white strappy stiletto sandals with something like three-inch heels; and her long hair, a sandy colour for the last few years, was delightfully and carefully tousled.

She stood there, mouth agape for a few seconds, eyes running up and down me, as if actually trying to work out who I was.

"Oh wow, Andrew! You're a sight for sore eyes, and no mistake! Come in! Come in!"

I walked into the living-room, and looked around. She was still single, but the room, though exhibiting delicate, feminine touches (as far as I recognised, anyway), it wasn't 'girly'; i.e. pink, and frilly or flounced. I could see nothing that seemed to demand attention.

Until I turned, and looked at her. She stood in the doorway of the room, right shoulder propped against the door jamb, panting lightly, as if she had just run up the stairs; her mouth and tongue were working, as if to moisten her lips.

Here was something that definitely demanded my attention, and I micro-focussed on it - the fingers of her left hand were twiddling her prominent left nipple through the material of her dress. Her right one had already 'come out' in sympathy.

With no coherent thoughts or intentions, I was suddenly aware of a rocket hard-on. Mine! And my shorts felt awfully tight.

Aunt Rose gave a delicate little gulp.

"Oh wow, Andy! Where'd the muscle come from?"

I wasn't quite with it. I had noticed that the dress was a couple of buttons shy of decorum - top AND bottom. I wondered vaguely how I had missed that when I first saw her as she opened the door.

So I replied, my focus still nailed to her nipple, "Well, you know - it grows."

She gave an almost whimper, "It certainly has!"

We ogled each other for a few, or more - probably - seconds. But not minutes ... probably[?].

She took a deep breath, which did wonders to the spread of her cleavage; gave a little catch in her throat, and squeaked, "Wha... what I wanted your attention for is this way.", and she started off, and up the stairs.

I stared after her for a few seconds before jolting into motion in her wake, and watched her bum slither from side to side in the dress as, three steps ahead of me, she climbed the stairs; and I stared at the delightfully smooth gap between her thighs. I thought I recognised her perfume, but couldn't quite place it.

I followed her into her bedroom which, again, was not 'girly', and she stepped aside as she waved me forward towards the bed.

"There."

I walked towards the bed, trying to take in all this hallowed ground, without making myself obvious, and stopped at the side of the bed.

I couldn't see anything wrong with the bed, so I told her that, and turned to look at her - standing totally nude - almost totally nude - she was still wearing the shoes.

And both her nipples were stiff.

And pointing in my direction.

On beautiful, compact, cone shaped breasts - as they weaved and waved slightly - with her almost panting breaths.

She wobbled a little, and her legs widened to stabilise herself - showing off the slickness between her gaping pussy lips.

Naturally, my cock, which had not softened at all, tried to lengthen, and harden, and dribbled at the display.

"Well, the actual problem with it," she continued, "is that we are not shagging on it. So, I intend to correct that immediately." And she pushed me backwards until my legs contacted the side of the bed, then I flopped down on my back on it, as I gazed up at her body.

b) Seduction?

I tend to be more the 'Action Man' type than 'Talker', so I was concentrating on the actions that I so desperately wanted to take to achieve my old fantasies.

One - very important - was commenced to be satisfied within a few seconds after landing - because she had followed through with her push, and had positioned herself with her knees against the side of the bed between my knees as she curled down to kneel there; her hands had taken command of the waistband of my shorts, pulled it down and over the tip of my cock; and, pressing down on the base, causing the head to lift away from my belly as she lowered her head and engulfed me almost to my pubes.

I squawked; gasped; warbled; squeaked, and blew into her mouth a number of times without my orgasm doing anything but tightening my tensions.

Rose choked, at the first - unexpectedly early - spurt; slurped at the next few - then hummed and sucked very hard through the rest. When I recalled this later, I considered that she so obviously wanted to taste my spunk that she tried to suck my balls out through my cock and into her mouth to get at it.

I all but fainted; but, because I didn't go soft - or, rather, as she didn't allow me the luxury of going soft, she carried on sucking - and squeezing my balls in rhythm with her sucks.

You know that I mentioned that I am not much of a 'Talker'? Well, as I lay there, all but blind; you know - lights on, but no-one at home[?] - the next few minutes proved me correct, and with a very limited vocabulary.

I believe that I managed about three basic phrases, repeated at random, consisting of: -

"Oh, Rose!";

"Thankyou-thankyou-thankyou!";

"Oh God!"

Then I got cold for a few seconds, then lovely and warm again, and squeezed in a different way.

Then I started to bounce my bum up and down on the bed as the warm squeezing varied in time with my bounces.

Eventually I became aware of gulps and gasps and whimpers coming from just above my face, I managed to focus my eyes before I was taken by the most erotic kiss I have EVER received, and could never have given - as my face was pressed between a hand on each cheek.

I was finally making love - sorry, I mean - being made love to, by my Love - at last.

But she stopped, and wriggled, lifted my hands to her breasts, and squeezed them into position; and whimpered and squealed; and dropped her head back as she groaned long and hard as she forced herself back onto my iron hard cock with short, hard, thrusts as she leant forward against my hands.

Then, after moving my hands aside, she flopped forward, her lips to my lips, for another passionate kiss between her gasps, then she started kissy-ing all over my face as she begged: -

"Please Andy, make me cum again!" What? "I do love you, and I need you to make love to me! Oh pleeeez Andy!" she whimpered, "Make love to me!"

So, I rolled us over onto her back, pushed myself up away from her, then locked my elbows and looked down at her.

That's when I identified her perfume. It was the same that she had been wearing as she left our house after her Goth visit. It was the smell of clean, turned-on, vagina. It was her unique, natural, scent.

Her eyes were closed, and she was panting, as her head slowly turned from side to side, hands plucking at the bedding, pleading with me to make love to her - again!

c) The Special Girl

Once I had regained some breath, and my heart-rate had slowed slightly, I took a deep breath, and fucked into her vigorously.

She gasped, then moaned out, "Oh yess!"

I did it three times in succession. She gasped at each thrust.

"Oh, that's it, Teddy - just the way I love you! Please Teddy - show me! Love me again, show me I'm your Special Girl. Make me cum and cum and cum!"

I had stalled. Cock far into her depths, arms locked as I gazed down at her through wide open eyes and with gaping mouth.

'Teddy'? ... 'Teddy'? Teddy was my father's nickname. As in 'Edward'.

I unlocked my elbows, and lowered my head. I licked each nipple, fucked into her, twice, hard; then sucked them, and fucked into her, twice, hard; then I closed my teeth on each nipple in turn, tightly enough so that I was able to stretch them away from her breasts until the tension snapped them back to rest, as I again fucked into her, hard - as she moaned, and groaned out her pleasure.

So I leaned further down, lightly lipped and kissed her neck just below her ear, eliciting a groaning shiver from her; and fucked her again, hard; before whispering into her ear, "And what would my Special Girl want from her Teddy today?", and lipped her neck again.

Her arms wrapped around my neck, and tears started from her eyes as she whispered into my neck, "I just want you to love me again, Teddy. I have so missed you, and I have so missed your love. You know you're the only man I've ever wanted Teddy. You are my lover - my mate - my only partner. You made me a woman Teddy - just like I wanted. I gave you my body, to love; it was the best present I could think of to show how much I Love you, so please don't throw me away. Just Love your Little Rosie, and show me how you Love me. Please Teddy, I really need you to make me cum - I haven't cum since you were last here! Please Love me again!" And she cried. Crocodile tears poured from her closed eyes as she gasped and sobbed and shuddered.

What could I do? She was adrift in a sea of grief - left alone by her True Love - and, she said, her only lover.

I'd had knee-jerk thoughts of 'taking revenge' on her for my father's infidelity. But, I thought, in a weird sort of way, (rightly or wrongly), he had been 'true' to my mother, and 'not true' to Rose.

But - then again - the head of my cock was nudging her cervix, and she was squeezing that head. With that sort of pressure on my brain (pun?), I was genetically hard-wired to make a miscalculation or two (or more?).

But Dad was part of me, so I felt I had to give her as much of him as I was able.

I leaned down and whispered to her, "Come on my Little Rosie, kiss your Teddy, and let me Love you."

Still with her eyes closed, she raised her head, her mouth opened towards me, seeking my mouth.

I leaned in, and dragging up all the experience I had gained in the last two-odd years, and three bed partners, I tried to feed that to her through my lips. I tried to make it gentle and passionate, so that in future years, when she looked back on this near rape (by misrepresentation) she would feel that it had not been defilement by her nephew, but a gift from her True Love.

So, I started to move inside her; gently, and softly; then, as I lightly kissed around her lips she asked me, "Oh, faster please Teddy, that feels so good." She sighed out her pleasure, "You're so good to me Teddy, my Love!"

So, through our lovemaking - and don't get me wrong I was still in love with Rose, it was pleasure more than duty - I really made Love to her - for both me and him.

But duty did suppress my own stimulation. For the first time in my short, patchy, sex life, I managed to work to purely satisfy my partner in this act; my Rose; and my Father's Lover, and his Love.

As she approached her own climax, eyelids still closed but fluttering, eyes searching from side-to-side, as if seeing her bright world, where she was still with, and loved by, her Teddy, as she urged him on.

"Come Teddy! Harder! I want to feel you nudging my heart! Show me you want me! Give me your power, Teddy, and make me your Special Girl again. Make me cum Teddy! Give me your Love. Don't hold back anymore - I'm nearly there. Hard Teddy! ... Deeper Teddy! ... Ever harder and deeper into your Little Rosie to make me your Special Girl. Let me show you Teddy! ... I am doing my best, Teddy - let me Love you. ... I'm nearly there, Teddy! ... Give me all of you!"

And through this litany of pleasure and pleas, her hands had taken on a life of their own. They were rubbing her breasts and nipples. Squeezing her nipples. Pulling on them; twisting them. Then, as she told us that she was nearly ready, and despite not being generously endowed, she forced her nipples closer together, then she told us in an almost passionless voice:

"I'm there now Teddy. I'm ready. Bite me, and finish me off. Make me your Special Girl now!"

Then she screamed, "BITE THEM!"

So, I bit her nipples, both at the same time, as she had prepared them by pushing them together.

I'm a gentle lover by inclination. Or at least I had managed to be with my previous partners. That was what they apparently wanted. And their orgasmic passions were gentle, however deep and long they lasted. So, I was not prepared for Rose's passion.

Her arms went rigid. Her hands locked her breasts tight, still crushing them together. Her whole body went taught as she bowed her body away from the bed, lifting me with her.

She took, it seemed, several seconds gasping in a great breath, most of which she then released in a piercing scream.

Then her body began to wrack and twist, as if huge dogs had each taken a part of her body in their jaws and were shaking their heads, each attempting to rip its mouthful away from the rest of her.

With the last of the breath after the scream, she started breathlessly pleading, "Oh Teddy! Fuck me! Don't stop - keep fucking me - I'm nearly your Special Girl now, so keep fucking me until you make me your Special Girl. I'm cumming for you Teddy - the way you always liked it Teddy. Make me your Special Girl! Keep fucking me Teddy - give me the Little Death! Make me cum, Teddy - kill me! Kill me and make me your Special Girl!"

And I fucked her with all my strength, skill, breath, and life. I have never worked so hard - at anything - as I did to please our Love. I silently called on Dad to guide me, to aid me. To show me what to do - and how to do it. I lost sight of my Rose, and could see only Dad's Little-Rosie, doing her best to be his Special Girl. She again started juddering as another orgasm ravaged her; drenching my groin in her passion; and full throated with her sobs, squeals, and mewls.

And then I came. If I thought my orgasm into Rose's mouth earlier was spectacular, it was nothing compared to this! I just kept pulsing and pulsing into her. I nearly fainted. I was certainly giddy for many seconds.

Then all the tension left her as she whimpered, "Oh my Teddy! Tell me I'm you're Special Girl. Please?"

So I leaned in to whisper into her ear, "Oh my Love, my Little Rosie. You are the most Special Girl anybody could ever have. Goodbye for now, Rosie, and I'll see you when I can be your Teddy, and you will be my Special Girl Rosie - forever!"

She stiffened again, wrapped in another orgasm, breathing out in a thin squeal.

Then she relaxed and sighed, "I'll Love you forever Teddy. Goodbye."

And she slipped into sleep.

*

I was a wreck. With severe internal and testicular pains. I had managed to achieve my orgasm, but after the strain of the coupling, it felt like I had crippled myself. Probably for ever[?].

I was sobbing. I rolled off the bed onto the floor as quietly as I could, so as not to disturb her, and crawled into the bathroom, closed the door and covered my head with towels to dampen the sound, and I howled and cried both my and Rose's pain and loss out into the world.

I don't know how long I cried, but I cried myself to sleep, curled on the bathroom rug, and huddled under the towels.

d) Recovery

Next I knew, a persistent hand was stroking my shoulder, and a soft voice was speaking to me.

"Andrew? Andrew! Come on - wake up now. It's getting late. Rachael will be missing you. You'll need to get home. Come. Get yourself into a nice hot shower. Get dressed, and you can put this fleece on to get home. It was your father's, so please bring it back next time."

I lay there looking up at her. She seemed so soft and gentle, wrapped in a big fluffy bath-robe, as if she had no knowledge of what I had done to her.

She leant down and gave me a soft, yet passionate kiss on the lips. Her voice strengthened.

"Come on Andy! Get your arse into gear, and the shower. What would you prefer to drink? Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Cocoa? And a sandwich, or some biscuits? Come on - move!"

So, I got up, and took the erection, that I hadn't realised I sported, into the shower. Rose knew that she owned it, so once I was in the shower, she bent down and kissed it.

"I expect you to bring your little friend here to visit me from time-to-time, now that we have become such close friends. You hear?"

"Yes Aunty!" I told her. She giggled, and left me to my shower.

*

Once I was again dressed, including Dad's fleece, I found her in the kitchen, leaning against the sink, drinking coffee.

"I didn't get a reply about the drink. What'll it be?"

"Coffee?"

"Instant; cafetière; espresso; or what?"

I looked around the kitchen.

"You have an espresso machine?"

"Naw! I was just messin' wit' ya'. It'll have to be 'instant'. I run out of 'ground' last week."

"OK. I'll have a flat white."

"Oooh you cheeky little shit! Just for that you can take me out next weekend and treat me to a Double Machiato, with vanilla and caramel shots."

"What's that?"

"No idea! Just messin'. Again! Well, apart from taking me out for coffee, anyway. And cake. I like cake. Fresh cream cake."

She raised her eyebrows at me, "I enjoy eating fresh cream. Remember?

"But here, today, there's just biscuits, or I can do you a cheese sarnie."

"Coupla biccies'll do, ta."

So, she made my coffee, handed it to me, then picked up the biscuit tin, and led me into her lounge. She put her coffee and the biscuit tin on the coffee table, then took my coffee from me and added it to the table. Then she sat me down on the sofa, and plonked herself on my lap, legs along the sofa to my right with her right arm over my shoulder, with her hand on the back of my head as she caressed her fingers through my hair. She picked up my coffee and handed it to me before picking up her own, and taking a large gulp before snuggling sideways into me and resting her head in my shoulder. We sat there quietly as we drank our coffees and nibbled biscuits (with me wishing for another couple of hands - one for the biscuit, the other for her).