The Finer Points of Sheila Ch. 05

Elle kissed my cheek and broke our hug, "Goodbye, Doug."

"Aren't you going to say goodbye to Sheila?"

Elle looked at the door to the delivery room. She said, "Tell her for me okay?"

I nodded and watched her leave, rounding the curve of the hall, past the nurse's station and then out the front doors. I suspected that if she had gone back in to tell Sheila goodbye, then Sheila would have wanted explanations. She knew just as well as I did that Sheila would have felt guilty over her daughters' feelings for me. Sheila would have wondered if I had feelings for Elle. In the end, the revelation of why she was leaving would hurt Sheila more than it would help. Elle was leaving because there was no other way. Elle wanted this to be a day about the baby, Sheila and I. She didn't want it to be about her.

I had to respect her for that.

The door opened and the nurse popped her head out, "Doug?"

"Yes," I said.

"We're ready to begin."

***

FOUR MONTHS LATER

"This boy will not feed," Sheila said as Logan lay in her arms, asleep and content after only a minute of suckling at her nipple. Sheila's already huge breasts had grown even larger during the pregnancy, but now they were impossibly massive. She had bought one of those maternity bras (an H cup size, no less) that had the cups that unclipped and folded down for easy access. Logan was happily nudged up against her milky breast, his raging fit to be fed apparently satiated.

"Maybe he just wanted a small night cap?" I offered and looked at the clock beside our bed. It was going on midnight now, and Sheila was looking tired and frustrated.

"He needs to eat," she told me, "If he doesn't, my tits are really going to start hurting."

"What about the breast pump?" I flipped the channel again and found T.V. Land. I was delighted to find that "The Odd Couple" was on, but was unfortunately followed by "Full House." I said, "How can they call 'Full House' a classic? What the hell is going on here? 'Night Court' should be on here before 'Full House.'"

"Uh huh," Sheila said absently as she laid Logan in his crib and positioned the pillows and blankets around him so he wouldn't roll, "The breast pump is broken, remember?"

Sheila sat back down on the bed, her massive breasts jiggling under her t-shirt as two wet spots formed in the fabric over her nipples. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she held her tits in her hands and made a pained face. We hadn't really had sex that much since Logan arrived. At first, she needed a month for her vagina to recover from the tearing and stretching. Three months later, Logan wanting to be fed or held usually interrupted any chance we had to get intimate. Which was cool. He was just a little baby, and he couldn't help the fact that his parents were really horny and frustrated.

"Doug," she looked at me.

"Yeah?"

"You going camping?" she asked and motioned to my crotch. My cock had hardened and stiffened in my shorts as I was watching Sheila massage her tits. It was a thick tent pole under my shorts and I smiled casually.

"I'm just appreciating the wonder of motherhood," I said.

"I have an idea," Sheila smiled at me slyly.

"Oh?" I was desperate for her idea to involve sex. Please God, let her idea involve sex...

"You ever tasted breast milk?" she asked and sat across from me on the bed, her legs crossed and her heavy breasts hanging down, stretching her t-shirt out.

"No..." I said.

I had wondered about what human milk tasted like, but I'd never really considered actually finding out. Sheila smiled and pulled her shirt off. Her full breasts caught on the fabric and pulled up with the bottom for a second. They bounced back into place. Her twin fleshy orbs were silky white and the areolas were pink and brilliant. Her nipples had hardened and were slick with her milk. I looked with hungry eyes as my cock went rigid and implored me to sample her.

"You're so good at playing with my tits anyway," she said and held her right breast in her hand as she tweaked the nipple and coaxed some of the fluid out. Three small bubbles of white milk emerged from the tip of her nipple and contrasted the swollen nub. Sheila milked a little more out and rubbed it around making everything shine.

"Anything I can do to help," I nodded.

I scooted over to her and Sheila leaned forward, offering her breasts to me. I licked her swollen left breast and teased the nipple. I took her nub between my lips and began suckling on her. After a moment, a strangely bland and yet sweet tasting liquid began filling my mouth. Sheila gasped a little and ran her fingers through my hair. I sucked more of her nipple into my mouth and drank her milk as I massaged her other tit with my hand. Sheila was breathing harder now, her mannerisms becoming more and more indicative of sexual arousal. She slipped her hand down over my bulge and rubbed back and forth as I flicked her milky nipple with my tongue.

"The other one now," she whispered.

Her nipple slipped out of my mouth with a wet little *pop* sound and I slurped up the excess milk that was running down the curve of her fleshy mound. I looked to her right nipple and saw it was leaking now profusely; a thin stream of milk was dribbling down her breast and stomach. She wasn't kidding about how full her tits could get with milk. I earnestly sucked on her right nipple and was rewarded with another burst of warm milk. I found myself drinking from her tit and enjoying it as she put her hand down my shorts and began stroking my cock.

I massaged her left breast now, feeling the heavy weight and silky texture. Sheila moaned her approval as I sucked her milk out. Another stream of her milk ran down my between my fingers in a warm trickle. Sheila smiled and purred as I sucked her nipple in hard and tweaked her left nub. Her milk was filling me up quickly as I relieved the pressure from her mammary glands.

"I want to fuck you," she whispered to me and pinched the head of my bulbous, swollen head.

"I want to fuck you," I said through a brief pause in my suckling. My cock felt like it was ready to rip out of my shorts. Sheila tugged my shorts down and revealed my hard dick in the illuminated television light.

"You got to milk me," she said and leaned forward as I released her breast. She lowered her tits to my cock and began squeezing her milk out on my shaft. The warm liquid coated my dick and she continued dribbling it out until she had completely soaked me. I felt her milk running down my balls and to the crack of my ass. She licked my head and then looked up, "My turn to milk you."

"Sounds good," I mumbled as she pulled my cock into her mouth.

Sheila ran her tongue over her lips, moistening them before pressing them to the head of my milk-soaked cock, making it pulse and throb in her hand. She licked my head with a long slow purposeful lick that made me shiver as she tasted her own milk. She kissed it several times, moving her lips around on the head, sliding down the shaft and back up again and making slurping sounds that made me want to orgasm right then and there.

The tip of her tongue slid out from between her lips and danced over my head. She tickled the tip of my cock with it, causing bursts of heat to go searing through me. I groaned and she bathed my dick with her tongue, making it shiny with saliva and breast milk. Sheila then sucked me into her mouth, the back of her throat hot and slick against my throbbing glans. The head of my cock was enveloped in the warm wetness of her mouth, her tongue wriggling under my shaft.

"Good God," I moaned and held the back of her head, her bronzed hair spilling through my fingers in thick tangles.

I could feel the orgasm building up fast. I gripped the bedspread and clutched tight as I moaned and grunted under her expert oral stimulation. Knowing me as she did, Sheila encouraged me further as she feverishly kicked up her pace and ravaged my member with her mouth. The orgasm screamed out of my sack and blasted up my urethra as she prepared to milk me.

"Fuck!" I cried out as I released my load.

"Fuck yeah," she said as my cock slipped from her mouth, still spurting hot ropes of sticky cum. My semen splattered across her tits as she licked her lips. A thick gob of my fluid was hanging from her chin in viscous white line. She rolled her tongue out of her mouth and caught the line of semen. She slurped it up and swallowed. She pumped my cock with her hand and licked it clean. "Delicious."

"You are the best," I stroked her hair. Sheila kissed her way up my body, dragging her tongue all the way. She worked her way higher and higher until her huge tits grazed my face. I licked and kissed them as she got on her knees beside my head. She then straddled my neck, her pussy a few inches away from my lips and grasped the headboard with both hands. I could smell her sweet nectar, the scent of a woman that was undeniable.

I immediately set to work, forsaking her cunt and going right for her clit. I swirled around it, flicking and suckling on it as I massaged her soft ass. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, moaning as quietly as she could. My face was slick with her juices as I lapped and suckled at her clitoral hood. Slowly, I coaxed her button out and began teasing her as my hands roam up her body and to her breasts. I cupped them and squeezed.

"Pinch them," she breathed, "Pinch them..."

I pinched and pulled at her nipples as Sheila gasped and squeezed her thighs together a little. Her hips were swaying now, mimicking the motions of sex as I pushed her towards her orgasm. I worked my tongue over and around her hot clit, making it as hard as I could and bringing her closer and closer to her finale. Sheila bit her lips as I nibbled on her clit and then rubbed furiously with my tongue. She muffled her cry of pleasure against her arm as the orgasm bloomed and radiated through her.

Her hips whip lashed violently as she breathlessly whimpered, her hands in her hair and back arched as the orgasm tore through her. Her cum splashed my face in a single squirt as she rode the wave of heat deep in her body. I could feel her thighs spasming as she slowly came down from her high. She dismounted me and lay down beside me as she caught her breath.

"Fuck," she breathed, "Yes, baby... oh fuck."

I rolled over and kissed her deeply, her cum still fresh on my tongue. She embraced me with a fevered passion as our legs tangled together. My cock was hard and ready to go as she rolled to her side, her back facing me, and exposed her vagina. I scooted up behind, propped myself up on my elbow as she lifted her leg and grabbed my cock. She no longer needed to guide me in as we had gotten so used to each other that it was like second nature.

"Be gentle," she whispered, "It's been awhile."

"As gentle as you please," I promised as my hips began to move back and forth on their own.

"I missed this," she whispered and closed her eyes as we joined together.

It took us a few minutes to get our rhythm down right as we grinded, circled and got used to each other. She brought her hand to my ass and held me there as we began to pick up speed. My hand found her large right breast as it bounced and moved to our rhythm. I started pulling and tweaking on her nipple again as she took her other hand started rubbing her clit furiously.

Sheila was starting to moan again, her pussy sopping wet as we fucked. We were covered in a film of sweat as our pace quickened and we progressed towards another climax. I hoped we would reach it together as I started putting my all into the thrusts, ramming my cock hard and fast into her cunt. I looked over at the crib and saw Logan was still asleep despite the noise of the headboard banging against the wall and our sexual vocalizations.

"Fuck me," she moaned, "Fuck me, fuck me, yes..."

"Yes baby," I groaned and squeezed her tit, her nipple still leaking milk.

"Oh fuck yes," she whined again in that high lust-filled pitch, "Yes..."

Our skin slapped together in a rapid sweaty impact as I hammered her, my teeth bared and sweat pouring off my brow. Sheila's pussy tightened suddenly and spasmed hard around my cock as she came for the second time that night, her ass bucking against me as she tried to stifle the scream. I could feel her juices trickling over my balls as I felt my own climax approaching.

I barely had the sense to realize that not only was she not pregnant anymore, but also that I wasn't wearing a condom. I pulled out just as my orgasm erupted from my head and sprayed her ass with cum. Stars exploded and sparkled in front of my eyes, my face feeling numb from the near hyperventilation of our sex. We lay there, huffing and puffing, moaning to each other and kissing as we recovered.

"That's what I've been missing," she smiled and grabbed her t-shirt. She wiped her ass cheeks off and once all my cum was gone, she tossed the used shirt into the corner and rolled to face me. She pulled me close and held me, her breasts full and comforting against my chest. Her hair smelled wonderful, a natural flowery smell that made me feel so safe.

In the crib, Logan murmured some of his baby tones and then was silent again.

"Wow," I said as my cock ebbed and receded.

"I know," Sheila smiled and kissed my neck.

"You know," I said quietly, "I'm never going to leave you."

Sheila was quiet for a moment. "I know," she smiled.

We kissed again and made love again, following a routine that was never the same twice and yet could be counted upon to always deliver us to that special place when I stopped being Doug Peterson and she stopped being Sheila Messing and we simply became each other. It was as spiritual as it was physical, and every time she touched me I felt like there was nothing I couldn't deal with.

***

Sheila and I never got married.

We talked about it, and we even thought about actually going to look at rings. But in the end, we just agreed that marriage was an interesting idea and nothing more. My mother never gave her blessing on the relationship, and even when she would visit us she'd keep a distance between her and her former friend. Dad came around after a few months of Logan being born. After the incident at the Starlight Café, he apparently had done some soul searching and realized what he was about to miss out on. And, he just couldn't resist the little squirt. In truth, none of us could.

Logan William Peterson was the ultimate expression of what Sheila and I shared. He was the end result and sum total of our commitment to each other. Every time I looked at him, I was amazed. He was beautiful, a perfect combination of the best both of us had to offer. Those in the town who saw him came to see this fact and accepted him. He was a little miracle born out of an amazing story. And he was quite possibly the best thing ever to happen to me.

I graduated from the Art Institute on my son's fourth birthday. Soon after, between my job as a freelance illustrator and Sheila's work at the realty office, we were able to purchase a home in the suburbs just outside the city. I even got to work from home, which was nice. We never really wanted for money. We always had enough and I thanked God for that small blessing.

Not everyone found life so easy.

Tom Crane (Sheila's ex-husband) fell in with some bad people after gambling at the Red Spot Night Club, just a few minutes down the street from the Freeling Hotel. Apparently, he took out a few loans to pay for some debts he had accrued whilst playing a shitty night of poker. Tom couldn't make the difference and pay up, so his lenders defaulted him and took his life as payment in full. Police found Tom face down in the bathtub of his apartment off Sixteenth Street, his live-in girlfriend passed out in the bedroom from a hard night of drinking. Rumor has it his dick had been cut off and nailed to the wall, but it could just be a bunch of bullshit.

But then, Tom had a way of pissing people off.

Brett had his inevitable run in with the police shortly after Sheila and I moved out of the city and into our home when I was twenty four. Again the Freeling Hotel was his target of choice as he planned to deliver three pounds of the kind of heroine he often classified as "The Fucking Madman." He'd gone to the third floor of the hotel, walked to the suite mark seventy-five and knocked on the door. Ironically, it was this same suite that Sheila and I had spent the night together in shortly after we got together.

Brett made the exchange and believed he would actually leave the building with the wad of hundred dollar bills his buyer had given him. I think he also truly believed that he would never get caught. The police had set a trap for him and he had walked right into it. They chased him through the whole building before finally catching him in the kitchen, trying to hide in an old dumb waiter.

When they pulled him out, the photographer for the Daily News got a great shot of him being dragged out of the small compartment by his hooded red sweatshirt. Part of me felt sad for Brett, but another part of me felt he had finally gotten what he deserved. In the end, the judge ruled he would spend the next fifteen years in the California State Penitentiary on so many counts of illegal activity that he was lucky to only get fifteen.

Elle didn't came back after that day in the hospital. It hurt Sheila that Elle left so quietly and abruptly. I guess it hurt me too, more than I wanted to admit at the time. She left no address and no phone number. She simply disappeared. Occasionally, we'd get a card from her or a letter that would tell us she loved us and missed us. Some of the letters were postmarked from New York, others from Ohio and even one Canada. Whatever Elle had been looking for, she apparently hadn't found it yet.

I thought she might come back for Sheila's funeral, but she didn't.

Sheila died in her sleep at the age of fifty-five, ten years after we discovered our love for each other. We made love the night before it happened, and it reminded me very much of the time we made love in that open field by Perkins's Ranch in the rain. She seemed vibrant, full of life and energy. She didn't even look all that old, and we enjoyed each other as we had so many times before. When we finished, she kissed me, told me she loved me and went to sleep. She rolled over to face the wall as I snuggled up behind her and held her close.

I woke up the next morning and leaned over to kiss her. She was cold, her skin a pale white with faded blue shadows that seemed like icy recesses. A small smile was on her lips, beautiful and peaceful. I called her name several times and shook her shoulder. After five minutes I realized and accepted what had happened and let her rest. I kissed her one last time and said goodbye.

It was a beautiful funeral, maybe more fancy and complimentary than Sheila would have preferred, but it was a fitting tribute to the woman who made my life worth something more than just getting by day to day. Mom and Dad showed up, and I think that when I put the two red roses on Sheila's coffin Mom realized that she had wasted a lot of time being angry. She cried and asked me to forgive her. I did of course, but it wasn't really me she needed to ask.

Logan was nine at the time, and he handled it as well as any nine-year-old could. He looked at me, his eyes those of the woman who had mothered him and asked me a simple question that both cut me to the quick and made me love him all the more. He held my hand and asked, "Is mommy sleeping forever?"

"Yeah," I managed as my eyes burned with hot tears, "Mommy is sleeping now."

"Like Sleeping Beauty?"

I held back the choke in my throat and smiled as best I could, "Just like Sleeping Beauty."

"You should wake her up with a kiss," he said quietly.