Guardian Ch. 02

"Think you can cum?" I wondered.

"I don't know, baby. All I know is that it feels... far better than I expected. If I don't, you can eat my pussy afterwards and make me cum until I pass out."

"Luckiest son in the world!"

Having cum twice, I have no idea how long I fucked her that time, but it was certainly quite a while, not that we ever really watched the clock. When we did, it was simply for fun, wondering how long we could fuck until one of us simply had to give in and cum. I slowed down and sped up, changing the angle slightly, kissed up and down her back and nuzzled into her neck. Mum... just spent most of the time moaning, giggling and begging me for more.

Only when I was getting close did I change, gently pushing down onto her shoulders. Her face was turned to the side and I saw the grin. "Fuck me until you cum, Mark. I can handle it. Trust me."

Those last couple of minutes, I fucked mother hard. It was fantastic. She grunted and moaned the entire time, but the smile never left her face otherwise. And when I did finally cum, it felt epic, a couple of last thrusts before I buried my cock again, falling forward to rest on my forearms, sucking in some deep breaths. Her skin glistened with sweat like mine.

"Pull out," she whispered.

I did so carefully, sitting back and checking there wasn't a real mess. Thankful there wasn't, Mum immediately lay on her side as I lay down next to her, immediately snuggling into me. She started giggling straight away. "On my god, Mark! That was wonderful!"

"Glad you enjoyed it."

"We'll definitely do that again. Just... not too often. Already feeling a little tender, but I want to ride you like that before you eat my pussy."

"My cock is yours, Mum."

We spent the next few minutes cuddling and kissing. I would have been content to just do that the rest of the night, and Mum knew that, but she seemed eager to ride me. Gently pushing me onto my back, she straddled my lap, hearing her giggle away as she mentioned my cum was already leaking out of her, though my cock put a stop to that once I was slid inside her arse again.

I then lay there as my mother happily rode away, her fingers gently fondling her pussy, and I figured she was going to ensure she enjoyed more than one orgasm. My hands were not idle, caressing her body, definitely giving her breasts some attention, but I left her pussy to her own expert fingers. I loved watching my mother masturbate, and she loved putting on a show for me. She was just so damned sexy, and even after all this time, when I did give him a moment of thought, I could only shake my head in disbelief. My mother was a sexual dynamo, and had clearly repressed so many desires for years, now living them out with her son, who loved watching his mother explore whatever she wanted to do.

"Oh baby," she moaned. Then she orgasmed. Barely realised she was close, her body shuddering as she stopped moving for a few seconds. Then she smiled and started back up again. "I'm going to ride you until you cum again."

"Might be awhile."

"Good," she retorted, giggling away, "More orgasms for me then!"

I love my mum.

She happily rode me. Her fingers remained busy the entire time, sometimes sliding them into my mouth, sometimes into her own. Whenever she did it to herself, she suggested my cock got harder. She rode me fast, she rode me slow. She never stopped complimenting my cock. She occasionally had a wave of emotion hit her, needing to stop for a few seconds for a cuddle, before she restarted. She'd orgasm, stopped to catch her breath, then restart.

Only when I warned her I was getting close did she finally lean forward, kissing me softly on the lips. "Fuck me, baby," she moaned.

I lasted a minute, a firm grip on her arse as I pounded her. Good thing I came quickly as I don't think she could handle much more, and by the time I did cum, that was it for the evening. Though I think we'd have both enjoyed me eating her out, she'd enjoyed plenty of orgasms. Suggesting a shower would be best, I took her by the hand, enjoying washing her down before she returned the favour, ending it by simply cuddling under the hot water.

"I love you, Mum," I whispered.

"This. I want this the rest of my life. Just me like this, in your arms after we'd made love."

"I'll do whatever I can to ensure that happens as often as possible."

Little did I know the curve ball life was going to throw in our direction.

*****

Chapter 5.2 (Last Chapter / Epilogue)

"Mark, there's someone outside asking for you."

Looking up from the engine I was working on, I asked, "Who is it?"

"Bloke says he's your father."

I almost hit my head on the raised bonnet. "Say that again?"

"Says he's your father. Gangly looking fella. Older looking."

My boss, Doug, stepped out of his office straight away as I grabbed the nearest heavy object, a wrench. "Mark..." Doug warned.

"Look, it's been at least three years..." I totted up the time in my head, "Probably even more since I've seen him. He must be here for a reason, but just be ready to call an ambulance. The last time we saw each other, I verged on killing him." He glanced at the wrench in my hand. "Purely for self-defence."

Stepping out into the car park, there was no missing him sitting back against the front of his car. I came to a stop no more than a dozen paces away as I was shocked at what I could see. His hair was gone. He looked rather thin. He didn't look well at all. He noticed the look on my face and stood up as I approached him. "What do you want?" I asked.

"We need to talk, Mark."

"We have nothing to say to each other, Robert. I still remember our last conversation rather vividly, every single word about me and Mum. So give me on good reason why we need to talk and I don't bury this wrench in your face?" I chuckled bitterly to myself. "Shit, even after all this time, you're the only person that makes me want to get needlessly violent. Speaks volumes, really."

"I'm dying, Mark." Well... shit. I may have despised the bastard, but did I want him to die? I wanted him out of my life, and for him to leave Mum and I alone, but I would never wish death on anyone. Not even him. Before I could ask, he added, "Cancer. Explains the lack of hair and gaunt look. Stage four prostate, grade three. By the time they caught it, it was too late. Spread too far to do anything."

"How long?"

He sighed. "Long enough that I can do a couple of things right in my life. I'm not here to ask for forgiveness. Don't expect it. But as I stare death in the face, I guess I hope for some personal redemption before I die."

"So I'll ask again. What do you want?"

"I'm hoping you'll sit down with me for a coffee. Man to man. I won't say father to son. We know that doesn't exist here."

I made him wait before I replied, "Wait here."

Walking back into the workshop, I placed the wrench down in the toolbox and took a breath, running a hand down my face. Doug wandered over. "Shit, what is it?"

"He's got terminal cancer. He's going to die. He wants to get coffee."

"If you need to..."

"I should really tell him to fuck off."

"Mark... I know what went on, but... You don't have to forgive him. Just because he's dying doesn't mean dick. But perhaps hearing him out will give peace of mind to both of you."

I sighed. I hated being the bad guy in any situation. And there was a small part of me that wondered what he had to say. "Mind if I..."

"Mark, you're a fucking hard worker. You're good. Go talk to him."

After washing my hands, staring in the mirror at my face, I walked outside and told him I'd follow to wherever he wanted to grab coffee. We ended up at a nearly McDonald's, which suited me fine, buying individual coffees, before we sat a corner table, far away from everyone.

"Still living with your mother?" I nodded. "Is she well?" I nodded again. He took a sip of his coffee. "Care to hear your old man confess his sins?"

"Why should I care? I know what you've done to Mum and I. What else do I need to know?"

"More than you realise, Mark." He took out his phone, taking a few seconds before he slid it forward, face up. There was a picture of two cute little girls, blonde hair, pigtails, smiling faces, bright blue eyes. "They're my daughters, Mark. Three years old. Your sisters."

I glared at him. The urge to leap over the table to beat him was in my blood. "You bastard," I growled.

"I was with their mother for fifteen years. So that obviously means I was with her during over half the marriage to your mother. It was only after your mother left that we had the children. There was a difference between them and you. I never wanted you. Never particularly wanted to marry your mother. But I did want my little girls."

"Fuck you and fuck your redemption," I said, making to stand up. He grabbed my wrist and I near enough swung at him. "I don't like the idea of smacking someone dying from cancer..."

"I want your mother to adopt them," he said.

"Fucking what?" I shouted, recognising the restaurant went completely silent.

"Sit down and I'll explain. There's more to the story." I glared at him with all the hate I could muster. But he met my eyes, nothing but a blank look in his own. With a sigh, I sat down. "I'm dying, Mark. They don't give me more than six months at best. As for their mother, well, she's in Europe somewhere with her fitness instructor. Left me with the girls as soon as the going got tough."

"Well, if that isn't karma..."

"I've already started laying the groundwork for the process to happen. This will be my redemption, Mark. To give your mother what she quite clearly wanted."

"And you know she'll say yes. Some would call you a sick son of a bitch for this."

"I know you hate me with every fibre of your being, Mark. Truthfully, I don't blame you. I know your mother probably still despises me, despite the fact she would have moved on. But do you think she'd agree?"

"Of course she would. Why are you even asking?"

"I'd speak to her, but I have a feeling she won't want to hear my voice."

"So you want me to?"

He nodded. "I sold the old house. Made quite a pretty penny considering the housing market. My second act of redemption is... I've purchased a house I know your mother would love. I've never lived in it, so I know she could possibly accept it. It would be perfect for her and the girls."

"Why weren't you like this when you were married?"

He shrugged. "I don't really have an answer to that, apart from the fact I was forced into a marriage and fatherhood against my own desires, so I played the family man to those who cared, living my own life otherwise."

"You're pathetic. Why not just divorce Mum and be done with it?"

"She's was a good little housewife. Good to have on my arm at functions and whatnot." I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. I could have cursed him out again, but what was the point. "Will you talk to your mother for me?"

"Not for you. For the girls. Last thing they need is ending up in foster care or worse."

He slid across a piece of paper. "That's my number. When you've talked and made your decision, let me know."

I left my half-finished coffee behind and returned to my car. Sitting behind the wheel, I took a few deep breaths before I banged the steering wheel with my fists a few times, hating the fact I could feel tears dripping down my cheeks. Only after I'd wiped them did I start the car up and drive to pick up Mum.

My face must have concerned her by the time she'd cuddled into me. "What's wrong?"

"Robert's dying," I replied flatly.

She leaned back, confusion on her face. "How on earth..."

"He came by work today and told me." I took her hands in mine. "Mum, we have to talk when we get home. What I have to tell you..."

Stepping into our apartment, the spectre of her ex-husband loomed heavily over both of us. She needed a glass of wine, I needed a beer for what I needed to explain. Sitting her on the couch, I told her everything he'd told me. She was crying after five minutes as she'd suspected it for that long. But when I told her about the daughters, I think it both shattered her heart but also gave her a semblance of hope. "He's really doing that?"

"He knows you wanted more children." I took her hands in mine. "Plus, look at this way, you adopt, I'm old enough to be their father so... we can raise them together."

I think that made up her mind immediately. "Where's his number? I need to talk to him myself."

She put him on speaker so I could hear him too, though I didn't say a word. The conversation was predictable. My mother was not in a forgiving mood, she never would be, but she was certainly surprised by what Robert was trying to achieve. And he was honest again. He knew Mum wanted children, his children needed a new family, so this was the best option. He made only one request.

"My children are old enough to understand I'm their father, and they had a mother, but they'll soon adapt to a new reality with you as their mother. The only thing I want is for them to come to my funeral when I die."

"I'm not the heartless one, Robert. I'd ensure they'd come pay their respects. They'd understand enough."

Mum and Robert wanted to ensure the adoption was legal, so the next few months were a whirlwind of interviews, visitations and court appearances. We viewed the new house together and Mum was taken aback. It was much nicer than our old house, a better suburb, and would suit the little girls. We visited them often, Robert ensuring the girls starting calling her Mum, but to my slight surprise, I wasn't introduced as their brother. I wonder if he suspected something was going on, but if he did, he kept his mouth shut. Considering he was dying, I guess he figured I'd look after his girls with Mum, and that was all that really mattered.

Despite it not being official, four months later, the four of us moved into our new home. The courts were aware, and were happy for the arrangement to begin before being made official. Robert was in hospice care by then, barely able to get out of bed. Mum took the girls to visit him occasionally. I went rarely. I'd go to his funeral when he died.

He died just a little after five months after that coffee at McDonald's. We attended his funeral, the girls understanding their father had died, but that they had a new mother who would love them very much, and then there was me. They only knew me as the man who lived with their new mother, so it was Mum who sat them down after another couple of months over dinner.

"Girls, I'm your new Mummy, right?"

They giggled. Precocious little things they were. I loved them to bits already. They'd been amazingly resilient during everything with Robert, and now enjoyed living in their new home. From what I could tell, they barely remembered their birth mother, who as far as I was aware, still living on the other side of the world, having given up all parental rights. "We know," Emily said softly. Her sister, Rebecca, nodded along.

"So you have a new Mummy. Would you like a new Daddy?"

They both looked at me and smiled. "Will you be our new Daddy, Mark?"

That got to me. It really did, immediately standing up and walking, crouching between their chairs. "I'd love to call you my daughters," I said, "Would you like me to be your new father?"

They nodded and hugged me straight away, feeling their arms around my neck. I'll admit it. I cried, probably harder than I'd done in years. Easily picking them up, I carried them around towards Mum, where she joined in the hug. "There we go, girls. That was easy. You now have a new Mummy and Daddy who both love you very much. And we'll love you both for the rest of our lives."

Standing in the doorway of their room later that evening, leaning against the frame, I couldn't help sigh as I watched them sleep. I loved my mother, but though I'd never officially be their father, my heart almost burst with my love for my daughters. Mum came up behind me, feeling her arms wrap around me. "Does Daddy want to make love to Mummy now?"

"He sure does," I said, turning to take her in my arms, "You going to start calling me Daddy now? That's quite the kink, Caroline."

She snorted, covering her mouth with a hand so she didn't wake the girls. Then she lifted her left hand, showing me the ring on her finger. "No, I think I'll call you husband."

"Therefore, I think this husband should make love to his wife."

"And that's the right answer."

Undressing her slowly, her body was still perfect in my eyes, drinking in her curves, hunger definitely appearing as she undressed me in return, lust and desire in eyes, face, body language. Falling onto the bed together, she spread her legs as I slowly slid my cock inside her, both of us sighing with contentment that we were joined again, just like last night, and the night before that...

"I love you, son," she whispered, caressing my cheek.

"I love you, Mum," I whispered back.

Mother and son made love that night. And did every night for many years into the future.

*****

A/N -- Hope you enjoyed the story.

I wasn't sure how people would react to the small 'Robert redemption' arc, but I wanted to give mother and son children, and the idea of adopting his half-sisters was something that came to mind while writing the very first chapter all that time ago. I just had to get there. Even Darth Vader found redemption in the end...

To be honest, there was an element of my own experiences regarding the first couple of chapters where I grew up in a household where domestic violence occurred, and it is a topic I've touched upon in other stories I've written or am writing. I'm sure many authors do rely on personal experiences for their stories. It's not a pleasant topic but I do find it somewhat cathartic, even if it happened a while ago now.