In Love with Lori Ch. 07 Pt. 02.1

"Love you, Baby-Girl!" he murmured, finally lapping gently at my swollen slit, sending a thousand icy-hot chills and shivers running through me as he lapped and teased my little button. I groaned with lust and need as he woke and teased my pussy, my clitoris buzzing and throbbing as he so, so gently bumped and grazed it with his tongue-tip, teasing, torturing me, making me ache with lust and unfulfilled longing.

"Davey, please..." I moaned, pushing my mound against his mouth as he ate me, urging him to make me thresh and howl, the way he always did. When he moved his lips and probing, teasing, tormenting tongue from my labia to my perineum I almost groaned in disappointment, but when the pad of his thumb began gently rubbing and massaging my stiff little button, I thought I'd die. My excitement mounted steadily as he rubbed me so wonderfully, while his tongue licked and probed my perineum, and darted in and out of my tight little asshole.

This only made me hotter; I could feel the gathering storm about to break, he'd pushed me almost beyond my limits, and as that gigantic orgasm I knew was coming began to uncurl inside me, obviously something he could feel too, he jammed his tongue deep into my asshole.

I shrieked in ecstasy as I came, orgasm crashing through me like a monstrous, breaking wave again and again as he touched and licked and urged me on and on.

When I thought it couldn't get any better, he slid up alongside me, turning me so I was spooned against him, and holding my thighs open.

"Are you ready, Darling Girl?" he murmured, and at my signal he slid his thick cock deep into my ass, his fluids and the liberal coating of saliva from his extended plating of me lubricating him as he rammed himself slowly, unstoppably, deep into the heart of me.

I came all over again at the sensation of him doing that to me again, our thing, the culmination and pinnacle of our lovemaking always, my anus tightening around him as orgasm once more burst in me, lighting me up like a Christmas tree as he pumped into me. The delicious friction s he thrust into me sent hot and cold tails chasing through me as I orgasmed almost continuously, bolt after bolt of pleasure thrilling through me, intensifying as he speeded up, frenziedly fucking me as his own climax approached.

Davey gave a coughing sort of groan, swelling inside me so tightly I could feel him wedging inside my ass, coupled with the muscular throbbing of that lovely fat cock of his as he pumped jet after jet of spunk deep into me, holding me tight as he blew his load inside me, and then the pulsating of his cock lessening as he came down from that place, until, at last, all I could feel was him slowly shrinking away inside me, and the drum-roll of his heartbeat slowly lessening.

We lay in our sweat and sweet afterglow, once more connected after a whole day apart, trying not to fall asleep, enjoying instead the gentle tristesse, the sweet, sorrowful melancholy and warm glow of renewed love that followed such intense lovemaking. Davey finally roused me from my woolgathering, his gentle nibble of my earlobe reminding me of his presence.

"I think we've well and truly christened this room, Darling Girl..." he murmured in my ear, "Just think, all those other rooms to follow; I'll be a shadow of my former self if they're all as good as this!"

I smiled happily as I pulled his arm around me and snuggled back down against him; in a little while we'd have to get up, clean-up, straighten-up this place, and have a light supper, but for now, my whole universe was Davey, and he was warm, and soft, and he was there, and that was all I needed. Thinking thoughts like that, warmed by my Davey, I fell asleep, secure in my world, and safe in my husband's arms.

*

Rosie puts two and two together:

While we were setting up our home, we also helped Rosie and Jimmy with theirs, which gave Rosie a chance to set something straight with me, in a roundabout sort of way, and it happened in the strangest possible way.

One morning, a few days after Davey and I had officially 'taken up residence' as they say in England, Sophie was out bullying caterers and generally having fun, with Jimmy bringing up the rear as muscle, pack-horse, and token person to complain at, and Davey was working, so it was just Rosie and me wrestling with what to put where. No matter how we rearranged things, the rooms still looked empty and unlived-in, so Rosie suggested we trek up to Denham Hall and pick out some more of the more attractive pieces of furniture, something to fill space and make the rooms more homey. I agreed, because I wanted her to pick and choose as well for her own nest with Jimmy.

There was enough stashed away in that huge, gloomy mausoleum for ten houses the size of ours, so we made our way up to the hall. Luckily it was a bright, sunny day; if it had been dull and overcast, I think we'd probably have gone another day, when Jimmy could come with us and keep the scaries at bay, because Rosie was as freaked by that place as I was.

We toured through the hall, sticking labels on pieces we liked, either for our place, or for Stone Cottage, Rosie's house, so the movers who collected them would know what went where, and we eventually ended up back in the study. Just like the first time I'd ever been there, that huge portrait of Mom and Davey's daddy over the fireplace captivated me; they looked so much like us today it was weird; it could have been Davey and me in that portrait. Standing there, with Mom watching over me, I actually felt safe for the first time in that scary place; touching that picture was almost like touching her again, and having her there with me was the best feeling in the world; while she was there with me, nothing could hurt me.

With my uneasiness allayed, I sat at the huge desk to make two lists of the stuff we'd picked, one for Rosie and one for me, and where I thought they'd go, only looking up when Rosie came clattering in with a pair of beautiful Regency candelabra, chatting about how nice they'd look in my dining room on the mantelpiece. As I glanced up, the painting caught my eye, and I froze, my heart leaping into my throat at what I saw. Mom seated, Davey's daddy standing behind her and to one side, his hand on her shoulder, her hand on his, but now, standing next to Mom, was Daddy, young, handsome, sleek and dashing in his air-force blues, his hand on her other shoulder, smiling at me just the way I remembered. I don't know how long I sat, transfixed, tears gathering in my eyes to see my mom and daddy together again, but Rosie obviously twigged something had happened.

"Lori...Lori...Lori, what is it, Lori, what's wrong?" I heard from a long way away, but I nearly jumped out of my skin when Rosie touched my arm.

"Lori, what happened? What is it? What did you see?"

I turned to her, and the tears spilled down my cheeks more and faster as I cried, grief and loss rising up out of nowhere and overwhelming me, while Rosie held me and rocked me, obviously at a loss as to what had just happened, just being there for me while I cried it all out.

"Lori, what happened? You went as white as a sheet. I thought you were having a seizure; you kept staring at that painting. What is it, what did you see? Was it seeing your mother again?"

My head snapped around. What did she just say? My God, she knew, she knew!

"What...I...it was..." I fumbled and stumbled, but Rosie kept hugging me.

"Lori, look, it's alright, I don't care, I understand, truly. I worked it out almost the first second I saw you; you're the exact, and I mean exact, double of Aunt Jane; anyone who looked so like her had to have been really closely related to her, so it wasn't that hard to make the connection! I'm sure Mummy knows, but don't worry, no-one's going to say anything, I promise you; this is about you and Davey, and Mummy would cut off her own arm before she let any harm come to either of you. Now, tell me what brought this on; what happened?"

In a soft voice, my throat still scratchy from crying so hard, I told her what I'd seen, how I'd seen Daddy in the painting, looking like he must have done when Davey's daddy had first known him, both he and David senior, best friends in life, flanking their wife, my mom. I told her how Davey leaving me behind to come to England when I was just eleven had broken my heart, how I'd been so very angry with him for so long, how I'd tried to cut him out of my life, and how a photograph, a simple photograph, had revealed to me how much I loved him. I told her everything, how I'd planned to seduce him, get pregnant, and let him go to go have his life, while I'd have a piece of him to be forever mine, how he'd got the truth out of me, and made love to me, showing me how much he loved me.

Rosie nodded though all this, as though I was confirming what she already knew, and when I eventually ran down, she held me and rocked me like a child, and in a soft voice started telling me stories about she and Davey when they were young, simple stories about two small children a long time ago.

She told me about building forts and hideouts in the woods with Davey, and how her daddy would make the two of them bows and arrows out of twigs and string and willow-wands, and fashion cocked hats out of folded newspaper for them so they could be Robin Hood and Maid Marian. She made me smile when she told me how her daddy would be the Sheriff of Nottingham or evil King John so Davey could fight him and rescue her. She told me how the two of them would go dipping with shrimp-nets in the streams on the estate for crayfish and minnows on summer afternoons, or catch frogs and salamanders in the duck-pond, and, when Fall came, how they'd gorge themselves on damsons in the estate orchards, and take baskets of the fruit home so Aunt Sybil could make damson jam. She told me of idyllic, golden autumn afternoons when she and Davey would forage for and gorge themselves on wild blackberries, and pick Rose Hips for her aunt Jane, and Blackthorn Sloe berries for her father to make the Sloe Gin that he and her uncle David liked so much at Christmas.

I smiled when she told me how Davey would protect her when their older cousins Lavinia and Jennifer would try to bully her; it was so like him. They really were closer than brother and sister ever could be. I was amazed she'd remembered so much of him, but then Davey has a way of sticking in your mind, and she'd never forgotten him.

I felt very close to Rosie by then; she'd been Davey's sister and best friend long before I'd ever known him, she had a past with him that I could never rival, and it was obvious to me that she loved him deeply and unconditionally, but at the same time, I knew her love for him in no way challenged what Davey and I had, nor would she ever come between us because of it; she was his oldest and truest friend, in truth she was his sister in every way that counted, and now, now that she'd shared my deepest secrets, she was mine too.

*

The plans for the wedding grew and matured; Sophie was tireless, checking each detail again and again, putting the fear of Sophie in the whole army of people she'd convinced, persuaded, bullied, cajoled, and blackmailed to make the day as perfect as it could be, according to her lights, and where Sophie led, I followed. As she kept telling me, "This is your wedding, Darling Girl; don't let me make it MY wedding; it has to be what you want, how you want it, so what next?"

While she busied herself following-through the details we'd hammered-out, she left me to get my home in order, just checking-in with me every day to go over what had happened, what had changed, and what I wanted to do about it. While I was doing that, Rosie, Jimmy and I also labored to make our homes as homey and comfortable as possible. I knew Jimmy was delaying formally asking Rosie to marry him until after Davey and my wedding, but that seemed unfair to me; Rosie needed to have some of what Davey and I had, and Sophie agreed, so a little plotting seemed in order.

I knew Jimmy was saving to buy Rosie the best, most expensive ring he could find, but Sophie had other ideas; Rosie was a Denham, her favorite niece, and there were any number of Denham family heirloom rings, brooches, bracelets, necklaces, tiara's and assorted sparkly odds and ends various members of the family had left behind over the years stashed in the vault at Denham Hall. Davey wasn't interested in any of it, his mind doesn't work that way; he still relied on and treasured the battered old Timex Mickey Mouse watch daddy had given him when he was a boy, that was what he valued, not those glittering baubles; if it had all been stuffed in a sock and chucked in a closet somewhere it would have made no difference to him, nor to me; I had my own mom's jewellery, and I certainly didn't want some long-dead woman's creepy old ancestral pieces cluttering up my jewel box either.

It didn't seem beyond the realms of possibility there was an antique stunner somewhere in that pile of expensive junk suitable for what I had in mind. It seemed only fair, after all; most of that stuff had been owned by women who were both Rosie and Davey's ancestors, and I couldn't see why she shouldn't have the pick of them. Sophie agreed with me, so we rummaged around until the perfect ring showed up, a beautiful Art Nouveau-influenced 2-carat Marquise-cut Solitaire diamond ring in a platinum setting.

Jimmy, of course, objected; he wanted to buy his girl her ring, which is generally the way it should be, this is true, but this was different; because Rosie was a Denham, Sophie convinced him that a Denham family piece, something that had once belonged to her great-great grandmother (who was also Davey's great-great grandmother...) would mean more to her, and the thing about Sophie is, when she tells you how things are, then that's how things are, period.

Jimmy still looked doubtful, but then Sophie battered him with the eyebrow, and he wilted, agreeing to go along with our plan until the time came to ask her; when he asked when that should be, Sophie would only say "Trust me, James, you'll know..."

So now all was set for the wedding. Davey took it all in his stride. After all, we were already legally married; this second wedding was mostly for the family, although the thought of walking down the aisle on Richard's arm appealed enormously, especially after that quickie wedding in Bar Harbor, and I have to be honest; how many Iowa girls would ever get the chance to marry in that huge, stunning, Gothic-fantasy of a chapel in a place like Cambridge University? Not many, I guarantee it!

As far as Davey was concerned, wedding planning was my thing; his thing was getting me naked as often as possible, pinning me down, and shoving that lovely thick cock of his in any place he could fit it. I used to wonder how he could be on his feet all day in the hospital, come home, jump into the shower, then drag me off to his den of iniquity for an extended, hard fucking session; the boy was tireless, not that I objected; feeling him filling my pussy and stretching my ass with his big cock was definitely the pinnacle of my day!

What made him even hornier was when I'd remind him I was his sister, as in "Come here and fuck your sister, you dirty fucker!", which just tuned him up to new heights, which is going some; I swear, he had an almost permanent erection, and no compunction about using it on me, for which I can only thank all the gods there are who manage these things...

*

I suppose I'd better tell you about my own personal ass-kicking party with Bella; in hindsight, it's almost funny, but at the time I just wanted to kick her ass all the way up the back of her neck. Now at last I understand fully why sweet, tolerant, mild-mannered Davey was so abruptly rude to her last time round. Anyway, back to my muttons.

Just a few days before Josie and Sara were due to arrive, Rosie and I were in the village grocery store, buying the boys some treats for dinner that night, when who should come stumping up the road but Bella, flames pouring out of her ears, with a face like a bulldog with its balls in a vise, obviously determined to have her say with me, although what kind of a beef she thought she still had with me was a mystery to me.

Rosie bridled at the sight of her grandmother, especially as the woman hanging back behind her, who could only have been Maude, judging by Davey's surprisingly accurate description of her, was giving me poisonous stares, as were the two girls with her, who would have been passably pretty but for the unbridled malice written all over their spoiled-looking faces. Bella set the tone for the conversation that ensued, and it went downhill at Warp Factor 9; obviously Bella and Maude had decided it was time for a showdown. Davey was unassailable, so they must have assumed I was an easy target, alone as I was. Bad, bad idea. Doing that to me is guaranteed to send you home walking funny, with your teeth in your back-pocket; you do NOT fuck with me and mine...

"You! Yes, you! Who do you think you are, threatening me like that? How dare you, you nasty, cheap, common little American gold-digger!"

Rosie was almost incandescent with anger, but I held her back, because I wanted to hear what that poisonous old maggot had to say before I knocked her on her ass. Bella wasn't slow to press ahead; obviously she was choking on whatever it was she hadn't been able to spew out the last time Davey and I had let the air out of her fraud-balloon, so I stood back, one arm ready to grab Rosie if she lunged for the decrepit old harridan ranting in the public street, and let her get on with it; to be honest, I was waiting to see if her head really would explode, something Davey had almost goaded her into last time round, and occasionally still fantasized about...

"Just what makes you think you have any right to anything this family has worked so hard for? You're just some common little colonial nobody, and now you think you can marry my family's money? As far as I'm concerned, you are nothing, not part of this family, you never will be and you have no right to exclude me from my rightful share of the Denham legacy, and I'll see you in court before I let this travesty of a marriage take place. What do you have to say to that, you ill-bred American guttersnipe?"

Okay, that was fun to listen to, if a little repetitive, but I had to put this bigoted old loony in her place and give her some facts to chew on, and, in the interests of balance, maybe hang one on her as well, old woman or not...

"First off, old woman, no-one excluded you from anything; you managed that all by yourself. Second, David and I are already legally married, we have been for several months now, this wedding is for the family to share with us, and I should note you won't be receiving an invitation, so you can yank that Atomic Wedgie out of your butt right now. Third, and last, the magistrate you deceived into signing your so-called court order has decided that you've committed perjury, which I understand is a very serious matter here in England, and he's really, really pissed-off that you used him to try and legitimize your attempted fraud, and once again, and I love this phrase, 'attempted to use a false instrument to gain a monetary advantage'. That's fraud where I come from."

Bella was starting to look scared now, so I thought I'd twist her titties just a little more.

"The law is on to you, Bella dearest; all the other frauds and forgeries you've tried to pull? They're being examined by the police, who will also be looking at any possible accomplices; David's mother felt sorry for you, so she let you off the hook; David only feels disgust and contempt, and no burning urge to protect you in any way, and now that you've verbally assaulted me on a public thoroughfare, which I understand is also a felony in England, I promise that will just stiffen his resolve to see you and your accomplices jugged for a long, long time. Face it, Bella; you're fucked..."