Best of Days

My hand moved lower, to his cock, and I touched it, enjoying the contrast between the rigidity of his penis and the velvety skin that covered it. I wanted to suck on it, so I went to shuffle between his legs, but Seldon stopped me and asked if we could get into a sixty-nine position, me on top.

I've never been that fond of that position, but I was willing to give it a shot. I climbed on top of him and positioned myself in what was probably a graceless pose, but one where I could access his prick. Seldon pulled my rear down and buried his tongue deep in my cunt, busying himself by taking over from where he'd left off a few minutes ago.

I held his cock to the side and bowed my head, covering his balls in kisses. He smelt wonderful; he had that musky male scent to him, and I took his cock into my mouth hoping to taste the saltiness of pre-cum. I wanted to wallow in his masculinity, to smell, to taste and to feel what I'd been missing out on for four years.

I worshipped his cock as best I could and before too long felt myself growing more and more excited, not only because of what I was doing, but because of what Seldon was doing between my thighs.

When my legs grew wobbly and I realised that this time I was going to orgasm, I took his cock from my mouth and held it against my cheek. I let out a moan and pressed myself down against Seldon's face, and the moment I did so, I felt the unmistaken onset of climax. I let out an anguished cry as wave after wave of bliss rolled over me, burying me alive. Time stretched on interminably, holding me tight in it's grip, until eventually I felt my body grow limp, and I collapsed onto my lover.

He didn't say anything, he just shifted my position so he could breath, and after a while I remembered that his erection, still rock hard, was just centimetres from my face. With renewed vigour I began to service him, picking up the pace in time with his groans and thrusts, until he made a gurgling sound and exploded in my mouth.

Cum dripped down my chin and back onto him, but still he thrust, no longer verbally speaking, but the tautness of his legs telling me everything I needed to know.

Then it was over. It was just Seldon and I in the dim light of the lamp, faces covered with each other's fluids and our hearts full. He pulled me up, so that I was laying in his arms, and traced his fingers down my spine.

Neither of us spoke. We didn't need to.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was exceptionally humid when I landed in Cairns on Christmas Eve three years later. I literally walked off the plane and onto the tarmac and wilted. There is a huge difference between the sub-tropics and the tropics.

The baby grizzled and I stopped to let other passengers walk past me as I readjusted my hold on my daughter, and my grip on her nappy bag. Then I started walking towards the terminal, knowing that Seldon and Taylor were waiting for me.

'Hi Mum,' Taylor greeted, catching sight of us. In a notably more enthusiastic tone, he patted his sister's head and said 'Hi Clarrie.'

When Taylor had finished greeting us, Seldon hugged me, kissed my head, and took Clarissa from my arms. I'd seen panic on his face in the ultrasound technician's office when he'd been told he was having a daughter. He'd wanted a son; 'another' girl was bound to bring up emotional issues, but after months of anguish, all of his fears dissipated when she was placed in his arms. He looked at me and I saw his bright blue eyes were filled with love.

I offered to do a paternity test, to put his mind at ease, but he'd declined my offer on every occasion I made it. No, he'd said. I don't want to be man. I don't want to start our marriage off with you feeling you need to prove your innocence.

'How was the flight?' Seldon asked.

'Not bad. How was the drive?'

'Boring,' Taylor told me.

Seldon gave me a wry smile. 'He slept for most of it,' he said.

'Of course he bloody did,' I said, poking Taylor in the ribs.

Taylor just rolled his eyes at me.

I had only one small suitcase in checked luggage. Everything else from Brisbane that we'd wanted to keep had travelled to Cairns in the back of the moving truck Seldon had hired. His family had promised to help us unpack over the Christmas holidays.

How and why were we moving to Cairns? There were the usual reasons; cheaper housing, being closer to Seldon's family, and lastly, a business opportunity, a takeaway that was in an industrial area. Takeaways in industrial areas only open five days a week, and with our new addition, Seldon didn't want to be at work any longer than necessary. As for Taylor, he'd had a horrible year at high school and needed a fresh start.

My house, which I'd fought so hard to save up for, was due to be tenanted. It would have been a wiser financial decision to sell it, but damned if I was doing that. Not after what it had taken me to save up for it. Seldon said he understood, even though I don't think he did, not really. But he wanted me to be happy, and if keeping the townhouse made me happy, so be it.

Roy and Melissa had made a few snide marks about me 'taking Taylor away' but Taylor was now sixteen years old and only really saw his father on school holidays. That wouldn't change now we were based in Cairns, but rather than me driving Taylor, or him taking the bus, he'd fly down to Brisbane.

As we waited for the conveyer belt to spew forth my suitcase, an elderly woman started smiling and waving to Clarissa. I picked up Clarrie's chubby little hand and waved it at the woman.

'What's her name?' the woman asked.

'Clarissa, but everyone calls her Clarrie,' Taylor told her.

'She has beautiful eyes. So blue,' the woman said.

'My husband's eyes are the same colour,' I said. I nudged Seldon's arm, and he turned around.

'Oh, they are, too,' the woman said. 'They're exactly the same.'

At that moment my suitcase appeared and Seldon went to collect it. We waved good-bye to the elderly woman and headed out to the carpark.

As we walked into the hot sun and humid air, I caught sight of Seldon's tattoo, the one that read 'the best of days aren't over yet'. He told me once that when he got that ink, he was at the end of one leg of his journey on earth, but had had to fight so hard to convince himself to keep going because he thought he'd never be even slightly happy again.

'I was foolish,' he told me. 'What I didn't know was that the best of days hadn't even begun.'

That was how I felt as we trudged across the carpark to his van. Every day was better than the last, every summer was brighter, ever morning more wonderful.

'I love you,' I mouthed silently to my husband, to my son, and to my daughter. 'I love you.'