The Family Room Ch. 12

The gyrations of her body atop the bed weakened my knees. The overt signs of approaching motherhood had done nothing to temper my attraction to her. Even with one extra curve she was still my perfect and petite little Julie, the woman I would love forever.

Delaying no longer, I escaped the last vestiges of clothing by struggling free from my shirt, refusing to pause for even a single button.

"Rick!" She giggled when she saw that I had not worn underwear.

"Sorry, baby. I forgot the laundry again." I brushed my hands over her parted thighs, the thighs I wanted to stay between forever.

She moaned, stretching her ankles towards the corners of the mattress, inviting me to explore her body. "I don't think Lance would appreciate us defiling his bed," she said.

My voice adopted a playful tone. "We've already defiled every other hunk of furniture in this dinky apartment. What makes his bed so special?"

She giggled. "You're so awful, Rick; he's your best friend."

"No, he isn't." I took her small hand and kissed the delicate fingers.

The playful expression disappeared from her face. "I can't wait until we have our own bed, not just our own bed but our own bedroom and our own kitchen and our own bathroom and a family room for our perfect little family."

"It will be perfect." I rested against her swollen belly, feeling the taut skin against my cheek. Our home, our child. How could anything created with Julie be anything but perfect.

My fingers drifted to the short curls between her legs. Wet fur greeted my fingertips, the feminine drool a testament to her hunger. Her clit was already engorged so I concentrated there. The initial contact made her groan. The groan changed to a mewl as I pinched and massaged her little pleasure spot. Her whispered voice begged me to do with her body as I pleased.

I was more than happy to oblige since my pleasure only came from her pleasure. I knew how much stress the standard positions put on her ripe little body and I couldn't bear to see her in discomfort so I squeezed her tiny hand in my own and invited her to climb on my lap. She did so, resting her knees on each side of my legs. She settled down, facing away to insure that her protruding belly would not come between us.

I guided the head of my penis to her moist opening, feeling a surge of electricity as our most private areas touched. She settled down on the shaft, moving slow as if to savor every inch of our union. Once the joining was complete her soft butt rested against my lap. I draped the long brown hair, parted so evenly in the middle of her scalp, over her shoulder. It's silky softness cascaded down her equally silky and soft skin.

Greeted with an unobstructed view of her naked back, my fingertips and eyes competed in a race to memorize every tiny freckle and every shadowy vein that inhabited the vast expanse of soft, pale and perfect skin.

The glows of love, lust and motherhood conspired together to make her pale skin shimmer in the soft lamp light. Unable to resist I kissed her slender shoulder and discreetly shifted my hips, a motion designed to beg without words for her help in bringing us a release so desperately needed.

Her thighs flexed. The muscles in her shapely legs tensed as she raised from my lap, hovering for just a moment before driving herself down on my erect penis. She repeated the motion again and again, helped with my hands under her butt. Our groins mashed together, filling the tiny bedroom with a symphony of squishing slaps and hissing mattress springs.

I noticed her naked little hand curled on top of the comforter; the sight of her bare ring finger brought a rush of guilt to my conscience. She would have her ring someday. Perhaps once our new life was underway I could afford a modest ring but for now something else would have to do. When she walked down the street I wanted everyone to know that Julie Martin was loved.

I remembered the ritual that proved popular during adolescence and applied my lips to the side of her neck and sucked her salty, sweet skin hard. If she couldn't wear my ring at least she could wear my mark.

"Rick, are you giving me a hickey?" She sounded amused, enough so to temporarily cease her motions.

I answered with an unsteady voice. "I'm...I'm marking my territory."

"I think you already did that."

Julie gripped my hand with her naked fingers and placed it against her abdomen. The weight of guilt immediately lifted from my soul. She helped me realize that the creation of our child spoke of a greater commitment to one another than diamonds or gold ever could.

Julie raised herself on her knees again, beckoning me to drive my shaft into her, pleading with passionate whispers.

I would do anything she asked for as long as she asked. My motions restarted and I imagined doing this with her one or two months from now in our own home. No doubt she would be even less petite with a tummy stretched to full capacity. In all my life I had never seen such a clear picture of the future. It wasn't a promise, or even a hope, my life with Julie would be perfect.

The image hastened my orgasm; my entire body tightened as ropes of semen jetted into her warm insides. I reached for her clit, manipulating it until she writhed on top of me. Her moist walls contracted around my spent penis; I held her tight as she wriggled, riding out the unsteady waves of her climax from the safety of my lap.

When it was over, when her body relaxed in my arms she turned around. Her green eyes trained on my blue. "Will we live happily ever after?" she asked.

I folded my arms across her back and kissed the top of her glistening forehead. "As long as our ever after is together, we'll be happy." I kissed her and hugged her, offering reassurances that she probably didn't need.

My life began in Saratoga Spring; for twenty-five years it was the only home I had ever known. Now, after incredible circumstances, I was leaving that home to never again return. I wish I could say that Julie and I left on better terms; I wish I could say that there were hugs and tears of joy and that our friends and family all turned out to see us off but I can't. Our forbidden relationship had opened so many wounds among the people we loved that a truly happy ending was not to be.

That doesn't mean I didn't try for Julie's sake. I called my parents before we left. My car was stuffed with our things. There was barely enough room to flex my elbows but I forced my trembling hands to grip the cell phone while she dialed. Julie leaned her head against my shoulder, trying to show her support.

To both of our chagrins my call was answered by the robotic voice of my father's voicemail.

Knowing it may well be the last time they ever heard my voice I opened my heart, fighting through tears and an uncooperative throat. I wanted my mom and dad to know that I loved them and that I loved Julie and would take care of her. That was all I could manage before my voice surrendered. I closed the cell phone and stashed it in Julie's purse.

Even if they hated what Julie and I were doing, I knew that deep down they still loved me. They wouldn't have let her go that night if they didn't still love me.

My sister placed her little hand over my arm, trying to bolster my courage. I looked at her, the woman carrying my son, and almost forgot about the family I had lost.

Six months ago, as I sat on the floor of the family room, who would have guessed that an irrational impulse to kiss my little sister would lead me down such a strange path. Rick Martin, the irresponsible little boy who was too terrified to grow up, was a few thousand miles from starting his life anew in some place called Stanley Island, Oregon. A new life as a husband and father, no less. I guess for the right woman anyone can change. For Julie I found the ambition I'd thought lost and the backbone I never knew I had.

The old taboo is long forgotten and the girl I grew up with, the little sister I loved and protected in my own clumsy way, is the woman I now call my wife.

The End

I want to take the opportunity to thank everyone who made it through all twelve chapters of The Family Room. Please let me know what you thought of the novella: what you liked, what you didn't like, what drove you nuts. Your comments are very important to me as are your votes.

This is the first novella I have ever shared with an audience and, quite frankly, I found the experience totally exhilarating. I care a great deal about the main characters and, creative juices permitting, would love to revisit them sometime during their future, let me know what you think about that as well.

Mused