In Love with Lori Ch. 07 Pt. 01

Please be aware this story contains fantasy taboo content and situations of a graphical sexual nature; if this offends you, please feel free to click on something more appropriate to your tastes and inclination. All characters are over 18.

As always, my deepest thanks go to GrandTeton, my mentor and seeker after realism, who, as always guides my feet along the path of coherence and clarity of expression; without his guidance and occasional raised eyebrow this story would be in a sorry state indeed.

Please remember that this is just a story; this is not the real world, there is no actual correspondence to real life, and the character's herein do and say things appropriate to the story only.

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I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it.

beachbum1958

*****

Chapter 7 Part 1:

Meet the family, maybe baby, and some skeletons come out to dance.

That morning after our night of lovemaking, Davey first told me he had something he needed to do, and something he wanted to give me; I was a little puzzled when he took me to Kane's Jewellery after lunch. When we went into the store, the owner came bustling up, obviously expecting us, and with no more than a nod and a quick word from Davey, brought out a tray of the most exquisite diamond rings I could ever expect to see; the store lit up as millions of points of light flashed and sparkled on the ceiling, the walls, and on Mrs. Kane's smiling face.

I was completely caught off guard when Davey smiled and said "Darling, please pick out the ring you want, the sky's the limit, so don't be bashful."

I really didn't think I needed a ring, especially not one of those pieces; Davey had asked me to marry him, I'd said yes, we were already sealed together, I didn't need a diamond to prove it, I already knew he loved me, and to be honest, I was a little daunted by the king's ransom sparkling and glittering in front of me.

"Davey," I whispered, "why am I looking at these rings?"

"Because I can hardly marry you without getting formally engaged first, you silly arse," he smiled, "I'm old-fashioned that way..."

I picked the simplest, most unassuming ring I could find in that wealth of empires spread before me, but it was still a stunner, the kind of ring movies stars would have had orgasms over; two-and-a-half carats of solid light, a Princess-cut Solitaire diamond in a simple, elegant, platinum setting, refined and understated, but so, so beautiful.

To be truthful, I was kind of hesitant about accepting a ring like that; after all, I didn't really need one, Davey was the prize, not a rock, no matter how desirable, but when he got down on one knee and pledged his undying love, I knew the ring per se meant nothing to him either; it was just a symbol, another way he wanted to me to know what I meant to him.

Besides, walking around with a rock the size of Delaware on her finger does wonders for a girl's ego...

The rest of the day and most of the night is a bit of a blur; what I do remember is Davey ramming his cock into every hole far into the night; when he fucked me like I'd seen Daddy doing Mom, with that wonderfully rigid cock of his jammed all the way up inside my ass, I came like never before, like hot ice and cold fire were burning their way through me, imprinting him on my very soul. My world dissolved as he fired what felt like an endless stream of his spunk deep inside me, sealing him ever closer to me, making us what time and distance had spent a lifetime forging, and love and need had finally brought about.

In the morning, my first thought was that I was now, officially, really, truly Davey's intended; he'd proposed on bended knee, right there and then in Kane's, not because it was expected of him, but because he wanted to; he'd put that wonderful ring on my finger as his promise to me that we were bound together now, and he'd spent the night with me in what had become our marriage bed, no matter that there was no piece of paper to say it was so. Now all that was needed was for us to go to Boston, get my paperwork sorted out, and Davey and I would be away to live our new life, as husband and wife, in England or wherever our life took us.

*

Travelling to Boston with Davey was an exciting, benchmark moment for me. When he'd first told me he loved me, asked me to marry him, even put that fabulous, elegant ring on my finger, it had all seemed like a play, a story we were acting out: handsome prince woos and wins simple country girl with spontaneous declarations of undying love and romantic proposals in the heat of the moment and all that. Travelling to Boston to make it happen made it perfectly real, in a way I hadn't felt yet; it underlined what was happening in my life, and told me everything I needed to know about his sincerity and intentions, not that I'd doubted him for one teeny little second, but now, now it was becoming real in a much more tangible way.

For the first time, what we were doing, all we were planning, seemed real, and imminent; it wasn't just talk and excitement and dreams and fairytale wishes, it had become a real thing, the next step in our life as a married couple. We'd decided to get married in Maine, in Bar Harbor, because Davey thought that would remove most of the problems of me going back to England with him if I arrived as his legally married wife, so a quickie courthouse wedding in Maine, then a more formal family wedding in England once the dust had settled. It made sense to me, so that's how we played it.

For some reason the one-hour flight from Ellsworth to Logan made Davey very nervous; he spent the entire flight cooped-up in that creaking, rickety relic of the Lindbergh days mumbling to himself with his eyes tight shut; it was only when I literally had to prise his hands off his seat buckle once we were down again that I realized how panicked he was; still, at least we were on the ground, and in one piece, not that I'd had any doubts about the outcome, even if the 'plane was a little long in the tooth.

Helping Davey out of his fetal crouch and dusting him off while pretending not to notice what a wuss he'd been was a good time to ponder what Daddy had always said about planes; any landing you walked away from was a good one. Somehow, I didn't think it would help if I shared that with him, he was spooked enough and almost catatonic as it was.

It was his own fault anyway; it's a four-hour drive from Bar Harbor to Boston and we could have done it quite easily that way, but no, moneybags was all fired-up to get the paperwork and visa sorted ASAP, so 'suffer, buddy, on thine own head be it' was my considered reaction; as for me, I loved the flight.

The hotel room Davey had arranged was the biggest room I'd ever seen; I think the school auditorium might have had it beat, but not by much, and that room was supposed to accommodate several hundred people at once; this place was max occupancy two people. I was tempted to ask for a radio, a team of runners, or, failing that, at least a megaphone, or maybe a set of semaphore flags; the Wilderness Girls taught me how to use them, but I didn't know where I'd get some around here, so maybe I could improvise with a couple pairs of panties, but that would just give Captain Horny ideas, not that I'm complaining...

Davey seemed perfectly at ease, so I followed his lead and made-out like I was used to hotel rooms the size of ballrooms and beds bigger than the Great Outdoors; from the look in Davey's eye I had no doubt we'd be testing the mattress pretty much immediately the Bell-Hop did a flit, and I was right...sort of; Davey, defaulting to his usual state, which is 'Horndog with a Hard-on' tried to make a grab for me but I wanted to eat; we had as long as we wanted to make dents in that huge bed, but first I wanted to make a dent in my appetite, because I was starving. Davey finally gave in (although I had a bit of a struggle myself; he's awful cute).

After dinner, Davey pretty much dragged me back to our room with unseemly haste, and I'll admit to only token resistance from me; a whole afternoon and evening without his brand of merrymaking was starting to tell on me, and I wanted get him naked and maybe see the elephant. Davey wasted no time peeling me out of my clothes, while I tugged and unzipped and unbuttoned him.

I'm glad to report I did indeed see the elephant, in many different and varied ways, the way only Davey can show me; he kept me mindful most of the night of the most obvious reason I was in love with him, not that I didn't have many, many other reasons why I loved him. I slept the sleep of the truly well-fucked that night, to be shocked awake when something icy-cold slid into my ass; I'd been dreaming about Davey (of course!) and I swimming in a tropical lagoon, and suddenly an icy-cold, slimy eel swam into my ass!

I came awake with a shriek and there was that English clown standing there, ice-cube in hand, grinning like a fucking baboon; my first instinct was to punch him in the throat for scaring me like that, but he'd ordered breakfast, so I let him live until I'd fortified the inner woman and calmed down a little; at least one thing about him had remained true to the boy who'd left: his rude, vulgar, low-brow, low-class sense of humor; he'd be trying the stinky-finger or the 'pull my finger' stunt next...

I ate and plotted, pondering the fact that maybe I didn't love him so much after all, not after that nasty-ass prank. But there was this lovely ring, and he was very pretty, so maybe I'd let him live a little longer. Maybe he was too busy congratulating himself to remember that I could do ice-cubes too; revenge, after all, is a dish either served red-hot and personal, or ice-cold and enjoyable...

While we ate, Davey went over the itinerary for that morning, and boy, was I impressed; he'd got us done and ready to move on before lunch, which was pretty slick, and a bit of an eye-opener; my mind went back to the boy who used to hang his clothes on the floor and spend panicked nights trying to find his baseball jersey for batting practice, then moaning to Mom because it was filthy, to which Mom always replied that she had neither the nerve nor the inclination to go delving around in that Hell-pit he called his room, mining for his filthy sportswear and crispy socks; if it looked like a floor-cloth he had no-one to blame but himself, he knew where the laundry basket was.

This new David was a refreshing change; however, the way he woke me needed repaying, but what I wanted most was to feel that fat cock of his making music inside me, so I 'enticed' him to get naked; actually, the way he was always so horny, a meaningful glance would probably have got him just as naked, and I won't lie, I did need him right then.

He kissed me and melted me inside, the way he always does, his rock-solid erection pressing urgently into my tummy while his hands roamed over me, gently caressing my pussy even as I squeezed and fisted him; he felt so good, all I wanted was him inside me, and when he urged me onto the bed I shivered with anticipation; just his touch and kiss had heated me up to almost a fever pitch, and I didn't care where we were, what our plans were, I just wanted my boy to fuck the living shit out of me!

Davey obliged, his mind-reading skills obviously keyed up to genius level, because he did exactly what I wanted; he held my ass, kneading and squeezing the cheeks with his talented hands, massaging and playing with them while he worked me into a frenzy with just his kiss. His cock pressed against me felt like a warm iron bar, thick and urgent. My legs drifted apart, telling him what I wanted, and the feel of him sliding into me, stretching and filling me once again, set me off in a series of small, intense orgasms that fired-off like a string of firecrackers sparkling through me, and exploding behind my eyes. Davey responded in his own special way, increasing his thrusts into me, filling me, touching me inside in ways that made me spin and gasp with the pleasure of it, and his lips were like fire, making my head swim.

I don't know how long he hammered his cock into me. all I cared about was the swelling orgasm I could feel building inside me, charging closer with every second, his beautiful face above me, his eyes narrowed to a green glitter as he tried to hold back, waiting for me to climax, which only made me hotter and more desperate than ever to climb to that place with him once more, to feel him filling me with himself again.

When the dam burst I think I screamed in ultimate ecstasy. My climax was earth-shattering in its intensity, blinding and deafening me to everything except the sight and sound of Davey poised above me, gasping in the intensity of his own orgasm. His every muscle was tense as a drawn bowstring while his cock pulsed and throbbed deep inside me, pumping his seed into me. My overwrought pussy convulsed around him as waves of pleasure rippled through me and centred in my pussy, sucking and milking every last drop of his fertile spunk deep into me, maybe even making the baby I wanted so much to have with him, assuming I wasn't already knocked-up, something I hadn't exactly cleared with him just yet...

When he eventually eased back and leaned down to kiss me, a kiss I returned with all my heart and soul, the look of pure love and contentment in his eyes was all I could have hoped for; that look alone told me that he was sure, beyond any doubt or misgiving, that I was the one for him, I was all he wanted, that our future was set, and nothing would ever come between us. He really was deeply in love with me, not just a passing infatuation, and that understanding warmed me through and made my world complete.

We lay quietly for a short while, basking in the warm afterglow of our lovemaking, nibble-kissing and caressing lightly, not trying to arouse the other now, just maintaining connection, feeling the joy in each other's presence that comes when deep and abiding love is also present. I knew Davey loved me, but I was just realizing he loved me in all the ways I wanted and needed to be loved, returning in equal measure, and more, the love I'd held for him for so many years. All was finally right in my world.

Meet The Family:

Meeting Davey's uncle Richard at the British Consulate was one of the better experiences in my life. For starters, he looked amazingly like the photographs of Davey's daddy we'd had all over the walls back home: older, of course, but with his graying hair still shot through with streaks of that distinctive Denham gold, looking for all the world like a veteran Hollywood movie star playing a British gent; looking at him was like looking at a snapshot of Davey in 40 years time, and it gave me a secret little glow inside to think Davey would one day look as distinguished and handsome as Richard did right then.

Davey had already filled him in on what was needed, and he had all the paperwork ready for me to sign. His wit, his twinkly charm, so much like Davey's, now I come to think about it, and unconscious elegance, so British and 'olde-worlde', warmed me toward him immediately; even on so short an acquaintance I could feel myself falling under his spell, as was Davey; when 'Uncle' Richard began reminiscing about his escapades with Davey's daddy at Cambridge when they were young, I had to swallow the lump in my throat at the sad, longing expression on Davey's face, and the glitter in his eyes as Richard revived and awakened memories of his daddy.

Richard felt warm and fatherly, as if I'd known him all my life, and the affection in his voice and his eyes when he looked at Davey, obviously seeing and hearing his boyhood friend all over again, worked even more in his favour. I already trusted him as much as I did Davey. Perhaps that was what prompted me to ask him, as literally the only person I knew in this world, aside from Davey, if he'd give me away. The look on his face, a mixture of wonder, gratitude at being included, and sheer pleasure at being asked at all, and the warmly gracious way he accepted completely won me over; now I had two men in my life to love and be loved by.

Davey took me back to the hotel, via various diversions, which for me consisted of disappearing with his credit cards into the Natick while he sat around and tried to look decorative, although, to be honest, he looked like every man in a mall: slightly uncomfortable, hugely out of place, and weighed down with the knowledge he's going to pay for and carry everything; serve him right for trusting me with his credit card, foolish simpleton that he is.

*

All through this beginning, I'd been troubled by the fact there were things I wasn't telling Davey, things I should have told him from Day One, things that were, in my mind at least, deal-breakers, and so I 'fessed-up. Meeting Richard, seeing what kind of family Davey was part of, made me realize I couldn't hold it back; if I was going to be part of this, I couldn't begin with a lie. Davey had been never been anything but totally honest and up-front with me, I owed him the same courtesy. When I told him I needed to tell him something, I think my tone gave away how serious I was being, so he held me and coaxed me, and right there was when I broke down and blurted out what I'd done.

I told him everything: how I'd stopped my birth control before he'd even arrived, because I'd planned to seduce him and catch his baby; how I didn't want to trap him in anything, and if I caught, I'd never intended to tell him, because he was going to leave me, or so I thought. If I had his baby, I could let him go, he'd never even have known, and he could go back to England and have the life he was supposed to have, and be everything to someone, but I'd be content, because I had his baby, and that would be a part of him that I would always have.

Davey looked at me in silence while I told him everything, that emerald stare of his searching and probing, but his look was warm, his eyes deep green wells of compassion and love, but with a trace of puzzlement, and still that silence remained, and it scared me; this was where I thought he'd call me out for lying to him, this was where he lost it with me for deceiving him, this was where it all fell apart, and where all my fantasies and hopes for a life with him went out the window, and I packed my bags and slunk away, because he was done with me for lying to him, sucking him into my scheming and planning to hurt him so.

Tears ran from my eyes, and there was no artifice, just fear; his silence told me everything; I'd hurt him, lied to him, taken from him what wasn't mine by right, much as I'd felt it was, and justified it to myself until even I believed it, and so the fear galloped around inside me, huge and unmanageable. But then he spoke, and my heart leaped, literally; I felt it pound and throb in my chest as he looked into my eyes, his eyes like bright, summer glades, warm, and green, dancing with dappled sunlight, and then he said the thing that finally, irrevocably welded us together into one seamless whole:

"Lori Keene, if you had kept my baby from me, then that would have been the worst hurt you could do me. And I'm not angry, how could I be? I love you, and I want to make babies with you, not next year, or the year after, but now, OK? The first time we made love, I fantasised about making you pregnant with my baby, and the thought of making babies with you makes me very hot! Now that we've made love again, there's only one thing I want to say to you."

He pulled me close to me, holding me full against him, his hands soft and warm as he caressed me, washing away the fear and the last vestiges of impending loss.