In Love with Lori Ch. 03

I clamped my hands on her bum, pulling her tight into me, bringing her nipples into range for an all-out lip-assault, something she appreciated, judging by the gasps this evoked as she rubbed and ground her crotch into my increasing hardness. The pressure of her crotch against mine inspired me to even greater efforts as I licked and suckled her breasts harder and with more serious intent, almost biting at the stiff, rubbery nubs that were now the centre of my world.

Lori was whimpering now, "Harder...harder...yesss...yeeesss...like that...yes!" almost continually, her words and bucking on my lap spurring me on, inspiring me, making her writhe as she pumped.

Suddenly she slid to her feet, pulling her top off over her head in one move, and sliding those skin-tight jeans down and off, to stand in her microscopic thong, a pornographic fantasy image come to life, with her jutting breasts and 1950's movie-goddess looks. With a quick grin, I pulled it down and tossed it aside, then pulled my slacks and jockey's down and over my feet, allowing my cock to spring free as I pulled my shirt off and threw it after my slacks. Lori slid back onto my lap, her hand encircling my cock, to pump and squeeze it as she leaned in to kiss me, again rubbing her crotch against mine, rubbing her clitoris against my painfully erect, straining cock. After a little more rubbing, squeezing, and sucking my tongue, she decided that she'd had enough foreplay, and raised herself up on her knees, holding and aiming my cock, then sliding down slowly, easing my cock into herself, and grinding into me at the bottom of her stroke, setting her own pace.

She placed her hands on my shoulders as she pumped on my cock, the sucking and squeezing sensation as she tensed and relaxed her vaginal constrictor muscles around my cock were utterly delightful, while the action of rubbing on me was brushing her clitoris through the tuft of hair on my lower abdomen, obviously a sensation she found pleasurable; as she speeded up, her face and neck flushed, and she knotted her fingers behind my neck, pulling me closer to kiss and play with my lips, nipping, licking, nibbling, her eyes shut as she entered her own world.

I was having difficulty keeping from exploding inside her; the sight of her rising and falling above me like this, the close contact with her satin-smooth, warm skin, the obvious arousal she was feeling, all combining to make me very horny. It was with something like relief that I felt her begin to speed-up, her orgasm obviously nearing, rubbing and grinding harder as she built, until, with a loud groan, she began to shudder and quiver, her vagina pulsing as her orgasm roared through her, picking me up and making me come with almost painful force, the sperm boiling out of me and into her in long, satisfying jets, Lori giving an "Oh...Oh...!" as each jet splashed into her cervix.

Eventually we both subsided, spent, sweaty, and very satisfied, to slump down on the couch and lay in perfect contentment, too beat to move, for a while, anyway...

When we eventually stirred, Lori wanted to talk about England, what it was like, what the people were like, all the things about England that intrigue and baffle Americans, a nation separated from them by a common language.

I tried to explain about the difference between the state educational system and the public schools, such as Harrow, or Eton, or Charterhouse, or the significantly less famous school I attended, and their reliance on centuries of tradition and privilege to stay exclusive, but Lori listened in polite incomprehension, until I gave up, only barely understanding it myself. I had attended a public school, but not one of the famous ones, and had only ever socialised with the boys from those other schools on the rugby pitch, so the whole privilege thing was a bit of a mystery to me.

She was also intrigued about the family history, so I whiled-away an hour or so telling her about some of the more stand-out characters in almost 600 years of murder, treachery, deceit, double-crossing, piracy, slave-trading, land-grabbing and mass-murder in the name of the king. My ancestors were not nice people, leaders of the royal armies through all the interminable campaigns against Britain's enemies (everybody), and I hoped like hell that Lori understood that the family she was marrying into had spent several hundred years trying to live-down the more extreme antics of their forebears.

We fell asleep to the sound of the traffic humming softly below, and awoke to the bright sunshine of a Massachusetts summer morning. Now that we had a plan, Lori was eager to get things moving, so she called Sophie and asked her to lunch, while I started confirming our flights and transport arrangements.

That settled, we turned our attention back to each other. Lori in the morning sun was a sight to behold, her skin gleaming marble white, hair deep, glossy black, eyes like cornflowers, her beautiful face and classic features irresistible, sexy. She noticed my attention on her, my close scrutiny of her every feature, and she blushed as I held my gaze, drinking in every inch of her magnificent form.

"What's on your mind, Doctor man?" she smiled.

I pulled her close, running my hands over her, touching, stroking, nibbling, licking. She busied herself with my cock, rearing up in readiness between us, gently pumping and squeezing the stem, encouraging the blood flow, making me ready. I rolled over onto my back, pulling her on top of me and sliding my hands down to her bum-cheeks, clutching and squeezing them, marvelling, as always, at how well they fit my hands, all the while kissing her as hard as I could, with her returning my kisses with equal passion and determination. Lori rubbed herself against me, against my cock trapped between us, the pressure and friction delightful, her eyes dancing and her slow smile promising, as she slowly ground herself against me.

"I don't know what you call this, English-Boy, but where I come from, this is how you do the Belly-Rub!" she purred at me.

I grinned and ground back against her, watching her eyes widen as the base of my cock rubbed against her clitoris. Her arms slid under me as she pulled herself tighter to me, all play gone from her eyes as the sensation of my cock grinding against her clitoris caused little jolts of pleasure to run through her. Her head snapped up, and she slid off me, rolling me with her with her so we ended up on the bed with me now on top of her, my weight on my forearms, her legs wrapped around me. Lori reached back down and took hold of my cock with both hands, pumping it and rubbing herself along it at the same time with her legs wrapped around my waist for leverage, using the length of my cock to masturbate herself as she masturbated me. I could feel her pussy rubbing against me, the wet heat of her swelling labia as her pussy was dragged up and down the base of my cock and the feel of her hard little clitoris as she rubbed it on me.

She began to speed up, pumping me and rubbing herself, kissing me in a frenzy of tongues and lips, my own excitement building as the feel of her juices bathed my cock and scrotum, the scent of her arousal overwhelming me with its sweet, spicy overtones, and as she finally gave a loud groan and slumped back, trembling and quivering as her orgasm burst through her, the sensation of her juices flowing over my cock caused me to lose control, coming in a surge of spunk spraying over her, spurts hitting her belly, breasts, one landing on her chin.

I rolled over, to lie next to her, while Lori smiled, her eyes closed, and her hand slowly came up to stir the puddle of semen on her stomach, then dip her finger in her mouth, lick it clean, and look at me.

"Nice shootin' Tex!" she drawled, "Y'got most of it in the bulls-eye!"

I started laughing, while Lori giggled and picked up my shirt, using it to mop herself off (again with the shirt!), before tweaking my penis gently.

"Come on you, shower time, we have a brunch date with Aunt Sophie!"

We met Sophie at the Consulate, and carted her off to the bistro we'd had lunch in before, where we gave her our travelling plans, plus our decision to get married now, in Bar Harbor, and then travel to the UK as husband and wife. Sophie declared she would come with us to Maine, so with a quick re-book, it was settled. Lori was ecstatic; her 'mother' would be coming to her wedding!

We flew out the next morning, all three of us, and set about booking a time at City Hall to get married, while Sophie arranged for shippers and packers, as only a Lady Who Organises could, and we were married the next day in a short, solemn courthouse ceremony. In advance of the packers, Lori and Sophie began pulling together all the things she treasured most, for us to take back with us now, while I went and saw a realtor about selling the house, leaving the details of the law firm in London who would deal with them.

When I got back to the house, I walked into a strange tableau; Lori, sitting and looking very pale, stiff and tense, Sophie standing and looking at me, stern and forbidding; something was wrong, and it didn't take long for me to find out what.

"David," she asked me, "is there something you want to tell me? About you and Loretta, I mean?"

I hedged, wondering where this was going, dreading I already knew.

"David, I found, quite by accident, I assure you, a photograph album, pictures of you and your parents. I browsed through it, quite innocently, looking at pictures of you, your poor dear father, and your mother at Denham Hall, all perfectly ordinary. Upon browsing further, and much to my surprise, I find a picture of your mother, with, I assume, her new husband, you, and a little girl; a little girl who looks exactly like Loretta, exactly like your mother. My question to you is: How exactly did you meet Loretta, and what is her actual relationship to you?"

Oh Jeez.

I decided that, as she had already worked it out, I may as well tell her outright.

"Aunt Sophie, Lori is my half-sister. I know what we're doing is wrong, but I love her; she and I are meant to be together!"

Sophie nodded slowly, looking first at me, then Lori, then back to me.

"Yes, I daresay. When were you planning on telling me of this....aspect of your relationship, pray tell?"

I gulped, and decided that total honesty was now the only policy.

"Aunt Sophie, I was hoping it would never come up. Lori and I have different fathers, we're only related through Mother, and we're from different countries....." I trailed off. Sophie looked at me piercingly for another few seconds, her face slowly settling in to less stern lines.

"If you had given me any other answer, I would have given you a ringing slap for lying to me. Never do that again, dear; I could always tell when your father was trying to slip one past me, and I can do it with you as well!"

"David, you should have told me instead of trying to deceive me, how do you know I wouldn't have just kept my mouth shut forever? You must learn to trust in your family a little, Richard and I, I mean, and the boys, not that bunch of dried-up, miserable old harpies Richard spends so much time and effort avoiding!"

Lori was relaxing, obviously feeling that a lecture on manners was probably a good sign, given the circumstances. Sophie stepped over to her, to gently brush her cheek.

"This makes no difference to me, dear; in the grand scheme of things it's barely a hiccup, but I just wish you'd told me sooner. If I were you, I would find somewhere safe, really safe, somewhere the rest of the family have no access to, and keep all these photographs away, safe and sound. Richard won't be told; I doubt he'd care, to be honest; he's absolutely bewitched by you and wouldn't hear a word said against you; I really do think he's starting to believe he's your father!"

"Besides," she smiled, "It's not like this hasn't happened before, you know. If we're going to let skeletons out of the closet, they may as well all dance together! I'm going to tell you another deep, dark family secret, it might just illuminate your situation a little better. David, dear, Loretta once told me how you were amazed at Richard's resemblance to your grandfather; that is no coincidence. Your grandfather had a younger sister, Louisa, Richard's mother, and she was an absolute corker when she was young, petite, green-eyed and golden-haired, a famously beautiful young woman. When she married Richard's father, she was two months pregnant."

I was trying to see where this was going, and suddenly a light came on.

"Are you telling me...?" I began, and Sophie nodded.

"Louisa was in love with your grandfather, her older brother, and he was in love with her. Tragic, I know. Anyway, she became pregnant. He couldn't marry her, of course, and so he arranged her marriage to Richard's supposed father, to prevent her name being dragged through the mud. I understand quite a lot of money changed hands, most of which got drunk by that dreadful man. The upshot is, Richard is truly your uncle, your father's half-brother, not his cousin, although I think they both somehow knew or suspected; they were so alike in so many ways, more so than cousins should be, more like brothers would be."

"That's why your grandfather paid for Richard's education, and made sure David remained so close to him, close to his older brother. It must have been terrible for him, terrible and heartbreaking, to see his oldest son so often, to look at his face and see his own face there, and never be able to acknowledge him. But he gave Richard a good start in life, for which I am profoundly grateful. So you see, I do understand, I'm not such a judgemental old dragon, now, am I?"

"Aunt Sophie, how do you know this stuff?" I asked with a grin.

Sophie smiled back.

"David dear, women do talk you know. Louisa and I were close, and she needed someone to know, so she told me. When your grandfather died, she was devastated, so much so that she died a few weeks later. The doctor's said it was a heart attack, I know it was of a broken heart. She was a wonderful lady, and terribly, hopelessly fond of your father; she always felt she should have been his mother, if fate had been more kind, or society more forgiving. She felt her whole life that she'd been robbed of her true happiness, and spent her life pining for the man she loved but could never have. Of course that Grant man knew, and he never missed an opportunity to throw it back in her face; I suppose that's why he consoled himself with an endless succession of actresses and housemaids, in between drinking like a bloody fish! "

Lori was in tears as the tragic story unfolded, but Sophie took her hand, gently stroking her cheek as she dabbed away her tears.

"That was in the past, dearest girl, you two will never have to go through anything like that, but I hope it points-up to you that you are not the first, nor I daresay the last, young people to do this in defiance of prejudice and law. What I will say is, my lips are sealed, I will not reveal this to anyone, and you will not try and deceive me again. Is that clear?"

I grinned, and pulled her in for a hug, startling her for a moment, before she hugged me back.

"Beside's dear," she smiled, "I've got a wedding planned in three months, you both absolutely have to be there!"

Lori started giggling, joined by me, then finally Sophie, the tension in the room draining away as we laughed.

"Another thing, dear, I noticed that your dear mother bore an almost uncanny resemblance to me; we could almost have been sisters. Poor David, he certainly knew the type of girl he wanted, eh? That is why Lori looks so much like me; she's a dead-ringer for her mother. Even Richard noted the eerie resemblance between Lori and me at the same age!"

We went out to dinner, the house was in too much disarray for us to even think of preparing a meal, and after a pleasant meal, with some very good wines, we all walked back to the house, enjoying the late-evening breeze off the sea. The packers were coming in the morning, and Lori and Sophie were going to supervise them, so we decided on an early night; besides, I had picked up from Lori that she had something on her mind, so a little bit of bed-exercise seemed in order. As we were heading up, Sophie called up to us.

"Dears, I'm going for a stroll, I think I'll take in some of the lovely sea-breeze, I'll be back in an hour!"

I looked at Lori, she winked back at me, and the penny dropped. Aha, so the women in my life were scheming and plotting were they? I grabbed her, tickling and pinching, making her shriek and giggle, chasing her into our bedroom.

Lori stopped and looked at it for a moment, her eyes a luminous, deep violet in the dusk, and said, "There it is, the magic bed."

"What do you mean, sweetheart?" I asked, and she turned to me, arms going around my neck, to kiss me.

"That's where you fell in love with me, that's where you asked me to marry you, that's where I said yes. It's a magic bed, and it always will be!"

I felt an instant surge of love and faith in this girl, a deep belief in her, and a deep conviction that we were doing the right thing.

"You forgot one thing, "I chided her, smiling, "that's where we made our baby!"

Two big tears of happiness rolled down her cheeks, making her look young, vulnerable, and sweet, and all I wanted to do was hold her forever.

Lori started kissing me, while I slid my hands up under her sundress, cupping and kneading her lovely globular buttocks, lifting, weighing and pulling them apart, making her squirm and rub her mons against my growing erection as her tongue probed my mouth.

I stopped groping her long enough to slip the straps off her dress, letting it fall to the floor, leaving her in just her tiny panties. I ogled her in the dusklight, struggling out of my own clothes while she posed for me, stripping down in ten seconds flat, and pulling her onto the bed next to me, my hands slipping up to catch and fondle her breasts, thumbs flicking over her nipples and making her sigh and catch her lip between her teeth. Her hand snaked out to capture my cock, now at full stretch, and she began pumping and squeezing as we made out. I slipped my hand down to her pussy, rubbing one finger along the her labia, feeling her lubrication start to run freely as I kept my hand pumping between her legs, rubbing and probing. Finally, I slid one finger inside her, making her groan as I rubbed at her clitoris, feeling the little bead start to harden and swell. Lori writhed and hunched up against my hand, her own hand pumping harder, squeezing my cock to get me ready for what was to come next.

I slipped my lips over her nipple, teasing, licking and nibbling the stiff rubbery little nub, making her gasp in time to my flicks with my tongue, before she let go of my cock to pull me over her. Her eyes were fixed on mine as she guided the tip of my cock between her labia, and as I lowered myself to slowly enter her, she raised her hips, engulfing me and pulling me in. We began the slow pumping rhythm that Lori likes to start with, adjusting to me all over again, my weight, as always, on my elbows, my lips glued to hers, and my hands slid under her to slide one finger into her anus as I squeezed and pulled her buttocks in time to my thrusting.

Lori began to hump faster against me, her arms about my neck pulling me harder into her, her breath coming in gasps and moans as her climax approached. I was lost in a world where only she existed, my whole being dedicated to loving this girl, and so I thrust and thrust again, my own orgasm also building. We kept this increasing tempo, me thrusting and Lori pumping, until, all at once, it was too late to slow down. She came with a loud guttural groan, shuddering and shivering with the intensity of her climax, her legs locked around my middle as she thrust her pelvis up to meet me, tipping me over the edge, my orgasm thundering in my ears and making my eyes bulge with the intensity of my release.