New Beginnings

Realising that my friend and supervisor thought that I had become involved with one of the consultants, I quickly corrected her. "No one you know."

"It doesn't matter who he is. He should keep doing it," she asserted as if that finalised it.

Shaking my head, "It's complicated." I wondered how to explain. Knowing that I could hardly explain to others what I did not understand myself.

"Look around you. Sex and love always are," her grey head dropped back to the chart she had been working on.

I was relieved that she had not pursued it further actually, but also a bit concerned. Did I wear some freshly fucked by boy-toy sign about my neck, I wondered. Thankfully a patient buzzer went off then; the rest of the night too busy to think much about anything.

I was tired that morning as I let myself into the flat and more than a little confused still by my conversation with Marge. In the past two weeks, despite lots of convincing I still felt deeply conflicted about the situation. There were so many reasons to call this thing off...James, Ellie, Kyle, Mary, Esther...hell, my whole fucking reputation. But despite all those I never seemed to be able to get the words past my lips. Even though cool logic said I should; must. Other parts of me begged for just a bit longer, a little more time, with a certain African god.

After checking on my sleeping angel, I slipped into my room forgetting for a moment that Daryl had charmed Mary into letting him 'help out' with Ellie during the Christmas break. I did not even finish pushing my knickers down my pale legs when he rolled over grabbing my arm and tossing me playfully across the bed. Caught unawares I landed on my tummy and soon felt the playful sting of Daryl's large hand across my mostly bare bottom before he finished the job and half tore my knickers off.

Bending forward he bit at the pink imprint on my bum, "Hmmm, you know I get so worked up over your creamy titties I forget what a sweet white ass you have, Lizzie." His hands and mouth caressed and bit the tender flesh for several minutes until I was almost whimpering. Then grabbing his pillow he lifted my hips and slid it under my hips, before returning to his previous exploration.

I bit into the sheets when I felt his long thick fingers slip into my sopping wet cunt. As I had known he would, he immediately homed in on my g-spot sending me over the edge with my first orgasm of the morning. Quickly followed by several more; as my hips began to churn helplessly on the pillow, a reluctant captive to his touch.

Then I felt the bed shift as Daryl came up behind me drawing my hips back slowly until the head of his hard cock found my hot cunt. We both moaned softly as he sank deep into me slowly. Always looking for the chance to surprise the stud puppy, I took the lead then moving my up-turned bottom in small circles so that his cock would first surge deeper then retreat slowly...again and again.

And just to make sure I had his attention, I threw in a little surprise: a couple of Kegel exercises, the cunt muscles contracting solidly around his thick cock buried so deeply in me. "Fuck, woman," he exclaimed as he slapped my white arse once more and surged forward quickly burying even more of his cock inside me; enough to take my breath away this time.

As always that was about as much control as he allowed me, he took over our little game until he controlled the pace and tempo of our mating. His cock would surge into me then slowly withdraw causing my head to toss back and forth on the bed as I came each time. Then I felt another stinging tap on my bum before he easily flipped me onto my back lifting my legs high in the air as he buried his cock in me once more.

My fingers sank into his shoulders as I felt my cunt juice drench us both then. "As much as I like your pretty white ass, I'd rather watch your face as you cum on my cock," he said before continuing to pound into me.

"Please...Daryl," I whimpered and begged.

Lifting my arse up more to meet his quickening thrusts then, he whispered "Please what, Lizzie? Please fill your hot mummy cunt with my baby?"

His words brought forth such a powerful and forbidden image that I came again. "No...god yes...Daryl...cum inside me," I stammered; uncertain what I wanted at the moment.

"Beg for it, Lizzie. Tell me how much you want me to give you my baby," my lover demanded my surrender without quarter as it were.

Fighting hard the war that continued to rage inside my conflicted mind and heart, I returned to my old habit of biting my lip.

But as with most of our battles of will, my boy-toy was having none of my advance and retreat. "You know you want it as bad as I do: a light skinned little boy to match our perfect little girl," he whispered enticingly against the side of my face.

My eyes closed in hiding then; as much from myself as from him. I tried to shake my head in denial. His hands moved off my hips then to cup my face gently. His lips covering mine as they teased; biting and licking until I was helpless to stop his tongue from slipping into my mouth as helpless as I was from stopping his cock moving ever deeper inside my body, seeking the very thing of which he spoke.

His voice stopped my heart when he finally kissed his way across my cheeks; his lips pressed tightly against my ear as he whispered, "Tell me you want him too, my love." His hips never for a single moment stopped the slow dance that I had come (or was that cum) to crave so much.

I could not have found words at that moment; my mind as it was filled with images of baby boys that looked as much like my African god as Ellie looked like James. But my body found a means of communicating all its own; my hips lifting off the pillow to meet his thrust causing him to bury even deeper as he groaned into my ear. His body tensing, his hips thrusting even faster as he emptied himself into me...over and over until I could feel it leaking slowly down the inside of my white thighs.

We lay like that for several moments. I almost thought that Daryl had fallen back asleep. I knew that I could not; my mind crashing around complexities that I had been fighting for three long hard months (although those months were not the only thing that had been long and hard I admit). As right as it felt lying here, the sane part of me screamed again to get the hell out.

It wasn't until I felt Daryl's lips kissing the moisture from the corner of my eye that I realised he had not escaped to blissful slumber. Even in my internal Hades he refused to allow me to retreat. "Since David will be arriving this morning, I didn't know when I would get the chance to give you your present," he said reaching under the bed. How could he possibly do that with his cock still buried inside me?

I got even more nervous when I saw the size of the small black velvet box he held. "Daryl, please..." I began; trying to stop him from saying anymore. As if I ever could.

Kissing my nose as a stupid grin broke across his dark face, "Lizzie, you know I have to keep pushing you in the right direction," he offered as he opened the box to reveal a small but perfectly formed pearl ring set in a white gold band. "Your birthstone," he explained as if I needed any.

"Daryl?" I began looking for some words; any words at that moment. Unsure myself even what to say.

Closing the lid slowly he winked at me, "But I know I'm pushing you too fast again." He tucked the box under my pillow. "So I thought for now, we could begin with this," he said reaching up to unclasp the gold chain about his neck. This as significant as the other since I knew he worked all summer handing out papers at Tube stations when he was sixteen to buy the damned thing.

Shaking my head, "No, Daryl," I protested.

He lifted my hand then removing my wedding band and engagement ring from my finger. Slipping them both down his chain, he then wrapped it about my neck silently and fastened the clasp. I stared at the chain, my rings resting over my heart symbolically. It was simpler to remain quiet then.

I was still looking at them as my chest rose and fell with the steady pattern of my breathing when Daryl brushed a soft kiss over the pulse throbbing at my temples. "It's a beginning," he pronounced with finality as he rolled to the side. "You get some sleep. I'll take a shower and watch Ellie until you have to go pick David up at St Pancreas."

And just like that he was gone. But sleep did not come easily that morning and when it did my dreams were fitful: laced as they were with cherubic light brown faces.

But I had little time to think about it much that weekend. David's arrival that afternoon heralded a barely controlled chaos. He actually looked happy; I thought when I met him at the station. But the train and buses were so packed and loud we did not have time to talk on the way home. Then it was delightful squeals from Ellie, followed by dinner and Kyle's own arrival.

Standing in the doorway between the kitchen and reception as I watched them all laugh over something, I thought how for this one moment my universe seemed normal once more. Reaching up to fiddle with the rings on the chain about my neck: well almost I thought.

I turned then to head back into the kitchen before they saw the tears glistening in my green eyes. And ran once more into the solid wall...of my lover's chest.

Chuckling softly, he whispered "How many times I have to warn you about running into me like this, Lizzie?"

His chuckle was enough to draw their attention, even if they could not hear his word. With the guileless resolve of a three year old, Ellie pointed to the mistletoe above my head in the doorway saying "Tiss...tiss."

As if it was all he was waiting for, Daryl slowly lowered his dark face until his lips softly melded to my own. Moving over them sweetly, the kiss was just long enough and intimate enough to send a message. But was the message for me or those watching, I wondered.

Kyle broke the spell, "Man, that's my mum."

Walking past me, standing somewhat dazed still beneath the mistletoe, Daryl faced Kyle squarely lifting Ellie into his arms as if he had every right, "Your mum always has been a MILF, blud."

I held my breath then deathly afraid of what was to come, but thank the angels above for dark headed little girls "Milk? I want some milk too."

Laughing at her unknowing joke, "Hmmm, Mum I'd like to kiss," as if issuing an open challenge to his friend and my son. Daryl laughed deeply and turning back to my daughter in his arms he replied "And you will have some milk."

I was glad the tension had been broken somewhat by Ellie's innocent words. But I spent the next couple of days walking on egg shells waiting for another incident that thankfully never came; although it did nothing to release the ever growing tension in me.

And ever increasing worry on my part. By the time that I packed David back on the train on Sunday, I was almost paralyzed with fear. I should have started my period on Tuesday. I was five days late. I tried very hard to convince myself that it was merely the stress of the holidays. But I think I knew even then that Daryl's convincing had done exactly what he intended.

Chapter Six

My African god slipped back into our bed, cradling me as he leaned against the pillows stacked there. "Miss me?" he challenged with a smile as he offered me his hand to hold onto. I could only bite my lip and grip his dark hand tightly as I nodded my assent as once more the next one hit.

Marge moved to turn on the light and I practically screamed, "No...no light!" Although our bedroom was dark, it never was pitch black; light from the lamps in the community garden in the back always bathed it in a gentle glow. And of course when I slept during the day I had become accustomed to the sun light filtering through the brown curtains as well. But now, it was as if I had a migraine; my eyes too sensitive for the bright overhead lights.

I knew Marge thought me completely mad no matter how many times we had gone over the birth plan with her. And at that moment, I could almost agree with her at least in terms of the epidural. I tried very hard to remember why I was doing this as my hand gently rubbed the bulge of my belly as if to reassure him...or her...as much as myself.

I had fallen into Daryl's habit...he and him, but the truth was that we did not know for sure because I had foregone the customary routine scans. My pregnancy had been textbook actually, a little too textbook perhaps I thought as my blond-brown head sank back against Daryl's broad chest in resignation as another contraction began.

***

I could see the bright afternoon sun filtering through the curtains above my head. I knew that I absolutely had to get up out of bed. Daryl would be dropping Ellie off any minute. And if I looked half as bad as I felt, then I was total shit. If I could just make it to the bathroom without tossing everything that I had eaten the night before; then maybe a shower would at least help a bit.

Too late, I thought as I heard the front door open downstairs. I went to sit up, but my head was absolutely swimming; the room spinning about me. But it was the nausea that won out in the end as I reached out to the chest of drawers next to my bed to grab my robe and steady myself before rushing, running down the hall to the loo.

Praying to the porcelain god, tossing your cookies, up-chucking, barfing, yakking, throwing up and of course the correct medical term...emesis. Oh yes, unless I forget the very cockney term: Wallace and Grommit. But none of those terms came close to the incessant torment of the past couple of weeks. I was not certain how much longer this flu excuse was going to work on my friends, family and colleagues.

"Mummy tick?" I looked up to see Ellie lifted high as usual in Daryl's arms. I could see huge crocodile tears of sympathy in her dark brown eyes. I tried desperately to shake my head but the movement only sent me into another wave of now dry heaves.

"Let's go see Unca, sweetie. He'll take you to the park like I promised and I'll make Mummy better," Daryl promised as I was bent over the great white god. There was another. Maybe if I just kept thinking of silly names for it, I could avoid...everything.

By the time the nausea had passed, I was too tired to do anything except lay my head against my arm on the side of the toilet. I did not even hear the door open once more. So I jumped a bit when I felt Daryl's warm hand on my shoulder. I turned my head and looked up into his very serious face.

He did not say a word. He simply grabbed a face towel from the drawer and ran it under cold water. He returned to wipe my face with it; blessedly cooling and soothing. He still had not said anything. I think I was glad of that, though I was not sure. Something about the silence was almost accusatory.

Holding out his large dark hand, he finally spoke "Can you walk to the bed? Or should I carry you?"

I reached out and took his hand. Thankful of the assistance in getting up, even if I was dreading the storm I could see was brewing. "I can walk," I pronounced sounding way more confident than I actually was. Standing up slowly, I reached for my toothbrush. I even managed to force myself to drink a few sips of water when I was done.

Looking in the mirror when I was finished, I looked almost as bad as I thought I would. My normally pale skin was almost translucent. There were even dark circles forming under my green eyes: lack of sleep from hours spent trying to think about the unworkable situation in which I found myself. Worst of all, I knew that I could no longer hide from the truth...from him...from any of it.

Daryl wrapped his arm about my waist and turned towards the bedroom. How does twenty feet seem so fucking long? I had new respect for the death walk scenes I had viewed in movies. I snuck a side ways glance at the dark and imposing man next to me without whose help I very much doubted I could walk at all. This damned fucking silence was killing me.

Slipping out of my robe the moment the torturous walk ended, I climbed back into bed and rolled to the far side clutching my pillow. "Just give me a little more sleep. I'll be fine then," I pleaded. "I'm sure this will all pass. The flu is going around," as always I was careful not to actually lie; more like evade the truth by the turn of a phrase. I bit my lip as I felt the bed shift beneath me. Was it the motion that made my stomach roll once more? Or was it him?

My eyes closed, I felt his hands move over me tenderly until it came to rest on my lower belly. God dam him, he knew I thought. He fucking knew and hadn't said a word. "Daryl..." I began.

"Are you keeping him?" his voice very quiet and still.

I was floored by the question. I honestly had not for even a single moment considered the alternative. I was not some far-right, religious pro-life advocate or anything. In fact, I had always advocated for a woman's right to choose. On the other hand as a mum and midwife I had witnessed the miracle of birth so many times; life was simply too precious.

I nodded my head. My silent response as I hoped to avoid the conversation I knew must come at least for now. I much preferred to face the truth...and especially him...when I felt at least half human instead.

He kissed my shoulder and held me for several moments then. In the end, it was I who broke the silence. "How long have you known?"

"At least as long as you have. Since Christmas for certain," he replied.

"And you didn't say anything?" It was not like my young African god to avoid anything; even the things I so desperately still wished to.

"I was waiting for you to say something. I know I have always pushed too fast and I suppose..." he was quiet again for a moment as if searching for the right words. "I suppose I was afraid that this time I had pushed too far. I thought...I thought it was best to let you come to terms with things first."

Turning me in his arms so that I could no longer hide in the safety of staring at the cream walls, he asked "Have you?"

"Honestly? No." I was finding it easier to stare at wisps of short springy chest hair peeking from the V-neck of his jumper. Although the thought of the smooth chest muscles I knew lay beneath the soft grey wool was alarming in a different way.

"But you're sure...about having him?" he asked once more as his hand over my tummy moving in tender small circles.

"Yes...that I do know."

"And me? What about me?" he asked. I admit it. I am a total and complete chicken; refusing to honestly look him in the eyes. Instead I lightly traced the V of his jumper with my fingers.

I closed my eyes because I simply could not look at him then; not even the strong smooth chest I felt beneath my hands. "I don't know. I guess we don't have much choice actually. Our little secret is going to come out soon enough."

His breath soft against the side of my face as he spoke low into my ear, "Your secret. I have been nothing more than your dirty little secret for five months, Lizzie. That was never my choice. You set the rules," he accused.

"No, it wasn't like that..." I started to explain. But the truth of his words was ringing in my own ears.

"It's my own fucking fault though. I should have waited. I should have given you time to get over James. There are a lot of should have's I guess. But the only thing I want you to know Lizzie is that I honestly never meant to hurt you."

"It's not your fault...I should have...I mean I could have stopped you."

I was glad when he broke the mood with a deep laugh then. "Oh really?" His hips moved then into contact with my naked skin. Even as sick as I had been, I could not prevent the moan from escaping my open breathless lips as I felt his hard cock brush softly against the skin of my inner thigh. Even through the thick denim of his jeans that cock could get me hot. Even when I looked and felt like total shit, I thought.