tagRomanceLove Child

Love Child


[June 1951 -- Pittsburgh, PA]

The final bell of the school year rang. My best friend Ricky and I jumped up and raced out the door, with the traditional schoolboy chant. "No more classrooms, no more books, no more teachers' dirty looks!" Ricky turned to me and grinned. "Guess what, Timmy? When school starts again, we'll be seniors. We'll finally be on the top of the totem pole!"

I grinned back. "Right on, Ricky! I can't wait!"

When I got home, there was an air of excitement in the house. "I have some big news, Tim," my mother said. "Your dad got a big promotion at work. He also got a transfer -- we're moving to New York City!"

I gulped. "When?"

My father smiled. "In a month, we'll be in the Big Apple. I know it's tough for you, but don't worry. The schools in New York are quite good."

[September 1951 -- New York City, Samuel J. Tilden High School]

"Hello, class," Mrs. Rollins called out. "Welcome to another year of school! You are all seniors, so make your last year a good one. And we have a new student among us! Timmy, stand up." I stood up and waved awkwardly to the class. "Try to make him feel welcome, all right?"

I knew that wasn't going to happen. The school's cliques had long since formed. I was an interloper, a newbie, and resigned myself mentally to a year of loneliness. The good thing was that the students seemed nice. They weren't going to pick on me or torment me; they were merely going to ignore me. I decided I could live with that.

I sat on a bench outside to eat my lunch, in the shade of a tall tree. The weather was glorious, with a cloudless day and a light breeze to provide a bit of cooling from the warmth of the sun. I took a deep breath and decided that I was happy to be here, breathing the air and feeling at one with the world. Then I looked around me and saw a girl sitting by herself, on a bench near me. She was a slim, pretty looking blonde. I wondered why she was by herself.

I finished my lunch and walked over to her. She looked up at my approach. "I'm Timmy," I said by way of introduction. "I'm the new kid in town, my dad just got transferred here. What is your name?" I extended my hand for a shake.

"I'm Ellen," she responded, shaking my hand. "I've lived here all my life. Nice to meet you."

"Why are you sitting alone out here?" I inquired.

"I'm not very popular," Ellen said. "Never mind why. What does your father do for a living?"

We talked for the rest of lunch. It turned out that Ellen was in one of my afternoon classes -- a literature class that was required to graduate. Like a lot of solitary people, Ellen loved books. And like me, she had just turned 18.

The next day, she and I met for lunch again. "What's your favorite book?" I asked her.

"I'm partial to Shakespeare," she replied. "My favorite play is A Midsummer Night's Dream. What about yourself, Timmy?"

"I like Sir Gawain and the Green Knight," I responded. "The hero is a bit imperfect, flawed, so very human, but still heroic."

After a pleasant conversation, I had a suggestion. "I think you're very pretty," I told Ellen. "Why don't you come over to my house at some point and meet my family? You could stay for dinner."

Momentarily, Ellen's eyes brimmed with tears. She blinked them away, but her voice still had a quiver in it. "I'd like that a lot, Timmy. Thank you."

It took a few days to work out the details, but the next Friday, I found myself walking home holding Ellen's hand. The chemistry between us just seemed natural. I wasn't sure if we were friends or boyfriend/girlfriend and I didn't really care: Ellen was simply awesome to be around, and for the moment, that's all that mattered.

"Hello," my mother said with a smile. "You must be Ellen. Timmy's told me so much about you."

"Delighted to meet you," Ellen said shakily. She seemed nervous and on the verge of crying.

My father strolled into the room. "Is this Ellen?" he said with a grin. "My son can't stop talking about you, young lady. It seems you occupy his thoughts all the time."

Ellen blushed. I thought her flushed cheeks made her look even prettier than normal. "I understand you just moved to New York," she said.

My father smiled. "Yes. I got a promotion at work. Now why don't you two sit down and relax? Dinner will be ready shortly."

When we were seated on the couch, Ellen leaned her head against my shoulder. "Your parents are really nice," she said. She smiled, but tears again seemed to be brimming just behind her eyes.

I put my arm around her. "I'm glad they like you," I replied. "I think you're very nice, too." Ellen fell silent. She nestled closer against me and I hugged her tighter. We stayed that way for a few minutes, enjoying our snuggle.

"Dinnertime," my mother announced. Ellen and I proceeded to the table. My mother had outdone herself: a savory beef stew, green beans, mashed potatoes, and her special salad. Plus an apple pie that was cooling in the kitchen for dessert: the luscious aroma wafted into the dining room. Ellen polished off her plate, including a second helping of stew, and had two pieces of pie. My mom was positively beaming. "I'm glad you like my cooking," she said with a smile.

"I'm not used to this much food," Ellen said. "My..."

She stopped in mid-sentence and a panicked look flitted across her face for a moment. She took a deep breath and resumed. "At home, the cupboards are pretty bare," Ellen concluded.

"Then I'm glad we could give you a hearty meal," my father said.

"I'd better go," Ellen said. "Thank you for the dinner, but it's a long walk home for me. I don't want to be out too late. It was wonderful to meet you."

"I could give you a ride back," my father offered.

"Oh, no thank you," Ellen replied. "I don't want to impose. You must be tired after working all week."

The next few weeks seemed to settle into a pattern: every Friday, Ellen would walk home with me and have dinner with my family. She would always walk back to her home, refusing offers of a ride. We continued to snuggle on the couch, and I even kissed her on the cheek a few times. I wondered why she seemed so sad beneath her veneer of cheerfulness. "Ellen," I said one day, "what's bothering you? You seem... burdened."

"Don't worry yourself about it, Timmy," she responded. "I'm happy when I'm with you. You're very nice."

"You're nice too, Ellen," I replied. "I want you to be happy all the time, not just when you're with me. Is something wrong?"

Ellen shook her head. "Nothing." But I knew she wasn't telling the whole truth. Her eyes, as usual, brimmed with tears just beneath the surface when she saw my parents and how happy our family was.

"Why don't we go over to your house next Friday?" I said during the dinner-table conversation. "My mom can make some food and I can bring it with me, since you mentioned food is in short supply at your home."

"That's a great idea," my mom said approvingly. "Then you and your parents can have a square meal. You look malnourished, Ellen."

"Um..." Ellen said. "I... I'm not sure..."

"Oh, relax," I smiled. "I'm sure I'll get along famously with your mom and dad."

I thought Ellen's face was going to crack and she'd release a flood of tears, but with a supreme effort she regained control of her emotions. "Thank you," she managed.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Timmy?" Ellen asked as I took her hand in mine the next Friday. "It's a long walk."

I tucked the package of food my mom had made up the night before securely under my left arm and smiled. "I'm sure, Ellen," I responded. We began walking hand-in-hand, chatting away. I tried to count the blocks. Five... ten... fifteen... and eventually I stopped trying to count.

"Ellen," I said, "where exactly do you live?"

"We're almost there," she said. We were in a very dilapidated-looking area. Another block, and Ellen pointed at an apartment building that looked like it should have been condemned years ago. We walked up the rickety staircase to the fourth floor.

"These walls haven't been painted since LaGuardia was mayor," I said, trying to make light of things. Ellen didn't even crack a smile. She keyed open a door and I stepped inside a tiny apartment.

"Hello," said a friendly voice.

"Timmy, this is my mother, Mabel," Ellen said. "Mabel, this is Timmy."

"I've heard a lot about you," Mabel grinned. "My daughter seems to dote on you."

"I think she's pretty special," I replied, handing Mabel the food I had brought. "Or was that pretty and special?" Ellen blushed. "Is your husband working late?" I politely inquired, directing my gaze to Mabel.

Ellen finally lost control and burst into tears. I wrapped her in my arms while Mabel answered. "I don't have a husband. The man who got me pregnant... he promised to marry me, but then one day he was gone. Ellen wasn't born yet."

"That's why you're an outcast at school," I said to Ellen. "Someone found out. Well, guess what. I don't care. You're still just as wonderful."

"The one bedroom is mine," Ellen said through her tears. "Mom sleeps on the couch, then works all day as a maid." She dragged me into the bedroom and closed the door.

"Dinner in 30 minutes," Mabel called out as we vanished. "I need some time to rest."

"You really don't care that I'm a... love child? A bastard?" Ellen whispered.

"Not at all," I whispered back. "You're just... Ellen. I like you for who you are, not what you are or aren't."

Ellen's raging emotions got the best of her. She pushed me down on the bed and kissed my lips. Hard. Surprised by her assault, I parted my lips and she slid her tongue inside my mouth, roughly.

"Mmmmmppphhh," I grunted, unable to form words with Ellen's lip-lock on me. She finally broke away for air, allowing me to start gathering my wits. She gestured for me to lie down, and as I did so she lay next to me. Her arms wrapped around me and she pressed her body tightly against mine.

"Do you really like me?" she purred.

"Yes, Ellen," I replied.

"Good," she responded in a whisper. "Timmy, I need more than just a hug right now." She unbuttoned her blouse and tugged down her bra, revealing her small, firm breasts with eraser-like nipples. I began to gently suckle on first one breast, then the other. Ellen wrapped her arms around my head, snuggling me against her chest. She let out a series of soft, barely audible moans.

When Mabel called us in for dinner, Ellen quickly pulled her bra up and buttoned her blouse. "I've been wanting to do that for a while," she whispered, "but until you, I never had a boyfriend."

Dinner, now that Ellen's secret was out, was actually very pleasant. Mabel couldn't believe that it didn't matter to me that Ellen was a love child. "I intend to make sure there's no repeat," I said. "If I father a child with Ellen, it will be after we're married."

Ellen blushed. "Can we finish high school first before talking about marriage?" she replied. However, the twinkle I caught in her eyes let me know she didn't think poorly of the idea.

The next Friday, I was back at Ellen's house, armed with an idea from my parents. When Mabel served out the food I had brought with me, I sprang it. "Mabel," I said, "my mom and dad want you and your daughter to move into our house. We have a perfectly suitable guest room. You'll be able to sleep in comfort."

"That's very generous," Mabel replied. "Where would Ellen sleep?"

"She can have my bed," I said. "I have a comfortable sleeping bag and plenty of space to stretch it out in my room. You two have done remarkable things, and you deserve better than this... squalor."

It took several weeks to happen, but everything was arranged soon enough. I made my sleeping bag into a bed, complete with pillows, on the floor. The first night of the new arrangements, after the adults were resting, Ellen looked at me. "You really don't mind giving up your bed?" she asked.

"You're worth it," I said. "Ellen, I really like you. You're a wonderful person and I intend to make you my wife."

I hadn't intended to blurt out my feelings like that, but there it was. I had fallen completely in love with the pretty, blonde bastard child. Even though she had never seen her father, it made no difference to me.

Ellen's eyes sparkled. "Come," she whispered, beckoning me towards the bed. I climbed into it and Ellen slipped her nightgown off, revealing her naked body in its glory. I removed my clothes and settled myself next to her.

"Don't put it in," Ellen whispered in my ear. "That can wait until after our vows. But we can still have some fun. I've been waiting a long time for the right boy."

"That would be me, I guess," I whispered back. Ellen nodded and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me tightly against her body. Our lips met for a long kiss, and our tongues twined until we had to break for air.

"Remember," Ellen whispered, "be very quiet." I nodded. Her lips moved down my body, kissing my neck first and then my chest. I let out an indiscernibly soft moan when she began nibbling on my sensitive nipples. My body shuddered slightly under her ministrations.

"Where'd you learn that?" I whispered.

"I went through a bad phase about 3 years ago," Ellen replied in a low, muffled voice. "I fooled around with a high-school dropout in my apartment. He was about my age. He even put it in me a time or two, but I made him pull it out after a couple of minutes. I broke it off after 2 months. I didn't want to be like my mom, pregnant and without a father around for my child."

"Oh," I murmured. "Sorry you went through that. What you're doing now feels good."

Ellen smiled at me and continued kissing and nibbling my nipples. After my body shuddered a few more times, she began working her way downwards again, down my belly and to my upper thighs. Her tongue licked softly at the spot where my leg joined my trunk. "Mmmmmm," I murmured.

Ellen's small hand wrapped gently around my rod and her tongue made its way to my balls. I felt my hips buck involuntarily in response. Ellen began slowly stroking me while working her tongue over my balls and the base of my shaft. I felt my body start to tense.

"You're ready," Ellen purred. She slipped her mouth down over the head of my prick and stroked me while her tongue licked the sensitive bulb. I felt the explosion coming and stuffed my fist in my mouth to stifle a groan. I fired off jet after jet into Ellen's mouth. She swallowed it all with an effort.

"What can I do in return?" I asked her quietly.

"The same thing," Ellen purred. "Kiss down from the neck and lick between my legs."

This was a lot different than the one hurried sexual experience I'd had before. The school slut in Pittsburgh had gone with me into the art supply room after school, lifted her skirt [revealing that she wasn't wearing panties] and bent over. I had rammed her cunt from behind and in 3 minutes it was over. I hadn't even seen her tits.

I kissed Ellen's neck with tender care, lingering at the sensitive spot beneath her left ear. She moaned gently when my tongue traced small circles there. While I kissed her, my hands instinctively began gently caressing her flanks.

Working my way downward, I kissed her upper chest. My tongue trailed into the hollow between Ellen's pert, firm breasts and I kissed the undersides of them before moving my way up. I gently began suckling on first one, then the other of her eraser-sized nipples, duplicating my performance at her house. Ellen's arms wrapped around me.

"Don't stop," she whispered. I gave attention to her breasts for a decent interval before moving down her belly. I continued down and kissed her inner thighs, then licked gently where her legs attached to her torso.

I moved to her slit. Not quite knowing where to start, I licked up and down along it. Ellen let out a soft moan. I could taste her sweet juices, as some of them had already leaked out. I explored further with my tongue and came across a hard little nub.

"Rub that gently with your fingertip," Ellen whispered lustily, "while actually slipping your tongue inside me." I did as instructed. The more I rubbed and licked, the more sweetness came out and the tenser Ellen's legs, wrapped around my head, seemed to get.

"Oh, my," Ellen purred. "I'm... going... to..."

Her voice stopped and she issued a moan, muffled by her fist. A flood of juices hit me. I licked up as much of her nectar as I could reach. I looked at Ellen to se a smile from ear to ear. "Great job," she whispered. "Was that your first time... licking a girl?"

I nodded. "You taste... wonderful."

"Well, we'd better get to sleep," Ellen said softly, reaching for her nightgown. "But we can do this every night."

"Good idea," I responded in a whisper, redressing myself as I spoke.

After graduation, Ellen and I married at once. Since we already occupied the same room, the only change was that my parents removed the sleeping bag from the floor. "When you start a family," my father said, "you can have your own apartment. In the meantime, now you can sleep in the same bed." Ellen and I shared a secret glance and a silent laugh... how little did they know.

My job with the company my father worked at wasn't as high paying as his, but a man has to start somewhere. I figured I'd do as he did and work my way up the food chain.

The first night of being married, Ellen and I found ourselves in a very familiar spot. "Now we don't have to worry about noise," Ellen whispered with a suppressed giggle. "And you can put it in me. In fact, I would insist that you do so."

I wrapped my arm around my bride and pulled her slim, naked body against my muscular one. "Kiss me, you fool," I replied. Her lips met mine in a long, passionate kiss. Our tongues probed so deeply that I thought hers would end up down my throat.

When we broke for air, I moved my way down the familiar path to the valley between Ellen's breasts. "Oh, Timmy," Ellen moaned. "Your tongue feels so good!"

From right outside the door came Mabel's voice. "Don't keep us all awake too long," she said with a giggle.

I suckled gently on Ellen's nipples as her hand teased my rod into life. Her fingertips scraped gently over my stiffening shaft. I pulled her chest into me, wrapping my arms around Ellen and letting my hands caress her back and make their way to her small, firm rump.

Ellen's sounds of pleasure encouraged me, so I squeezed her behind gently and let my mouth proceed to her slit. I licked along it until I could taste the juices leaking out of her.

"Let's make a baby," Ellen purred. She lay down on her back with her legs spread invitingly. I slid in and began moving slowly, establishing a smooth rhythm. Ellen's radiant smile let me know I was making her happy.

I continued to make long, languorous love to my wife as I leaned forward. Ellen's arms locked around me, and our lips met. I let her tongue again invade my mouth as our bodies merged. Her petite frame shivered beneath me.

"I'm getting close," she whispered. "I want you to fill me, honey." I sped up the pace a little, and Ellen's legs locked around me. "Come on, Timmy," she moaned. "I want to have your baby." I felt her body spasm beneath me and I responded by firing off within her. Ellen's smile was all I needed to see.

"We'll do that every night until we know for sure," Ellen purred, holding me close against her.

"Works for me, love," I replied.

Three months later, we were sure. We moved into a comfortable, though modest, 2-bedroom apartment, and in May 1953, our daughter Tamara joined the world.

[Epilogue -- January 1969]

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to a record in Tamara's hand as my daughter walked in the door.

"It just arrived in the library," she replied. I looked at the record: "Motown 1130-1139."

"Go ahead and put it on," I said. Ellen emerged from the kitchen to greet Tamara, and we listened. When the first side finished, Tamara flipped the record and inserted the needle to play song 1135.

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