Sofia

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By weeks end she wanted to try a blow job, I let her go for a while to get used to it, I didn't think she would be able to finish, but it gave her an idea of what it was like, she did learn to give me a very satisfying hand job one afternoon on a secluded area of the beach. By the time we were headed home I had a horny little vixen on my hands, she wanted sex at least once a day, a few times twice. I was hoping we might be home for a short season before she called for cock three times in a day, I was worn out.

Prior to our marriage we decided we didn't want to live with either parent and had rented a two-bedroom apartment a block down from where Sofie lived, by the time we got back the moms had it cleaned and set up, all we needed to do was move in. They'd stocked the kitchen with no longer used pots, pans and cooking utensils from their homes, neither of us cared, it was less we had to buy. Sofia's cedar chest with all her embroidered and earthly treasures sat at the end of our bed, when I first saw it, I envisioned my minx sitting on it, the perfect height for her to suck my cock. Little did I know that within the next two months that's exactly what she was doing, never letting a drop escape her lips.

With Camila so sick we decided to try and get pregnant right away, by our sixth month of marriage she had not one but two growing inside her, apparently twins were prevalent on my dad's side of the family. My dad was an only child, so it came from somewhere way back. Once we found out she was pregnant I asked her to no longer work, which she was fine with, she spent more hours with the moms learning to cook more items, learning how to care for herself while pregnant and sewing maternity outfits.

By the time Sofia was seven months and big as a barn as they say, Camila took a turn for the worse, which presented us with a new dilemma. Should we move in and take care of her mother or stay where we were? Following much conversation with both mothers we reached a decision, we would move in with Camila and my mom would visit daily to make sure Sofie wasn't overwhelmed during the day. Somehow being where she had grown up seemed to help her, Sofia was more relaxed, more confident and secure.

As soon as the maternity ward would allow it both mothers were in the recovery room oooing and ahhhing over our fraternal twins, we had named them Frank and Francine, I'm not sure where those names came from, we simply liked them. Sofia was prepared to breast feed and took to it as quickly as the babies did, the county nurse checked in the first month or so reaching the decision that with all our help Sofia was becoming a great mother.

The kids were just over a year old when Camila died, she'd been alert for their birthday party and seemed to go downhill rapidly afterward. Sofia took it in stride, she cried and missed her mother, but it was as though she had a better grasp on the fact that we all live and die than so many others. With Camila's death Sofia inherited everything, the house, the trust and the car. We left the trust alone, my wages were sufficient to live on, Sofie had learned to drive, having her mother's car meant we didn't have to buy one.

Not knowing if Sofia would ever marry Camila had bought two plots side by side decades ago, when we laid her to rest Sofie asked where she would be buried, when I pointed next to her mom she smiled. Our next child was a girl (Abagail) born almost two years to the day after the twins. The kids were getting old enough to have different issues Sofie didn't always know how to evaluate, she and I would talk about them after supper, once she knew what she should do it was no longer an issue. We thought we were done having kids after Abby, somehow, we made a mistake, low and behold she had a second pair of twins growing in her tummy, this time both boys.

As the kids aged and began school it didn't take them long to figure out they were smarter than mom in some areas, being normal children they figured out they could often put one over on her. When that began I sat the older twins down and explained that their mother was learning disabled and they would likely always be smarter than she was, but what a travesty it would be to take advantage of one who loved them so much. It was as though they made it their mission to make sure their mother wasn't messed with or over, oh sure, they had their moments but in the end it was always the same, protect mom and never ever make fun of her. That attitude was adopted by the younger ones and prevailed until the second set of twins left for college.

By that time Sofia was settled in her routines, comfortable in and out of her house, people at the stores knew her and made sure she was not taken advantage of. I'm not going to pretend we had a perfect marriage with no issues, we had our ups and downs as all couples do, and though we didn't always agree we were never disagreeable about it. I learned early on that Sofie believed every word I said and made damned sure I didn't mislead her or take advantage of that trust.

When we had first returned from our honeymoon she was worried about having to testify against the Weatherly boys, thankfully they pled guilty, in return they got a lesser sentence, two years in the penitentiary, when released they moved to another state, Sofie never had to see them again.

Placing the flower's I'd brought at her headstone tears filled my eyes, why had my Sofie left me too soon in life? I didn't have the answers, no one did, as I stood staring at her plot, I heard the sound of children getting louder and louder, the kids were present with all of their brood. I couldn't be with my Sofia on this day, but I could see her in each and every person standing next me.

Epilogue:

Dave only lived another six years before he succumbed to pancreatic cancer, I personally think his broken heart allowed his body to accept the dreaded disease, but that's just me. Their girl Abby bought the house, she has two of her own running in the neighborhood, the oldest twins have families and still live and work in our town, the two younger twins now live three states away married to twin sisters. My wife and I had been present for every one of the kid's weddings, though I'm not blood related I'm still referred to as Uncle.

Dave and I had spent many a day together since our early childhood, our wives had become close and our respective children were close friends growing up. I wept during full military honors for my lifelong friend, sadly he would no longer be with me to solve life's problems over a beer. After Sofia died Dave never looked at another woman in a desirous way, Sofia had been his everything, in his mind she could never be replaced.

With my wife now gone I'm on my own, well sort of, my kids and grands come to see Papa often, in my heart is a special place for not only my bride, but Dave and Sofia as well. I may be lonesome at times but as long as I have memories, I will never be alone.

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44 Comments
muskyboymuskyboy17 days ago

Very hard to read stories that open describing the life after the main character has dies. Just too sad from the start for me.

texlootexloo4 months ago

I was deeply touched by this story. I have worked, been friends with, and/or been family to people with developmental delays, learnng disabilities, and physical disabilities. This has gone on all of my adult life. I have diagnosed dyslexia, ADHA, and autism (aspergers syndrome). I did go to college, which took the better part of a decade to finish, but only ever done service industry jobs that do not require a degree. I have struggled four decades, with each new job, learning the work. Once I understood it though, I was reliable and ridgely followed the rules. I was born in at the tail end of the 60s, and grew up in the 70s, and 80s, before the advent of better mental health understanding. I know what it is like for kids to bully me and call me 'ret@ard'. (I am not offended by the word retarded, because when this story was set it was an acceptable medical term). It is assholes like my bullies who shortened it into a slur. I shudder to think if I had been a small female, rather than a rather large male, since the bullying was sometimes physical. I have went out for lunch, with a Sunday school class of adults with downs sydrome, and quite forgotten that I was theeur teacher, and that they were not simply my friends. Love, compassion, and the desire to protect those weaker than myself are three values I hold dear. To me, those are much more important than a wonderful career or wealth. Thank you for sharing this story.

DadieODadieO4 months ago

Absolutely one of the best stories I've read on this site. Brovo

moimeme68moimeme687 months ago

Beautiful story - beautiful writing skills.

AnonymousAnonymous8 months ago

An old vet saying, Perfect ! Peace

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