Samantha falls in love with her future husband
A Loving Family - Samantha's Story-Part Four (end)
FORWARD. These first chapters relate to an earlier time, when girls were more innocent that in later decades. For Samantha’s life as a wife and mother, read my story “A Loving Family” which is referred to in the opening paragraphs. The principal character, Samantha, who in her adult life is the wife of Don and mother to Peter and Susan, recollects her life from the age of 11 years and we meet her closest female friend, Cherie-Anne. If explicit sexual family encounters disturb you, please read no further.
This is a work of pure fiction and tells of a young girl’s sexual and emotional development into womanhood.
This has not been written simply as erotica, but is a story which attempts to explore events in Samantha’s life which may have led to why she acted as she did as a wife and mother. The sexual passages are therefore within the context of that personal, fictional, history.
A Loving Family – Samantha’s Story
Chapter Eight - Samantha graduates and meets her future husband.
Samantha and Cherie-Anne completed their University studies, were awarded their degrees and swore eternal loving friendship.
In July it was Sami’s twenty first birthday and her aunt and two uncles planned a celebration. There were extensive grounds to Danny’s home and a marquee was hired, disco group engaged, food catered, invitation cards printed and ten of Sam’s special University friends invited, five young men and five young women, with Cherie as ever sharing her best friend’s bedroom as on previous occasions. Samantha now had control of part of her inheritance and insisted that she pay for two night’s accommodation in two small but modestly comfortable hotels for the nine who enthusiastically accepted.
Cherie had been invited to stay a full week before the other guests were due, and to Sam’s startled surprise her mother Madeline arrived with her, complete with bulging suitcases and obviously expecting to stay some little time. She raised a quizzical eyebrow at her friend who made a little ‘mou’ with her mouth and shrugged imperceptibly in a typically Gallic manner. While Cherie picked up her own bags and packages with Sam’s help, Danny lifted Madeline’s and carried them in manly fashion into his home, up the stairs and into the bedroom that he now regarded as ‘The French Room’ - it even had a small painted sign saying so - with the French flag adorning each side! The girls staggered down the corridor, past ‘The French Room’ into Sam’s private quarters and dumped the cases on one of the beds. “What on earth have you got in that case? It weighs a ton” gasped Sam as she plonked herself on her own bed.
“Never you mind” retorted her friend “But you are not pleased to see me?”
“Of course I am you fat headed French baggage.”
“Then I demand the kiss to show me.”
Sami stood and her chere amie approached and the girls braced. Their lips met. Silence was punctuated by gasps, by feverish hands stroking, touching. There was a knock on the door. A female voice called, asking to enter. “Un moment Maman.” They tried to calm.
The door unlocked, Madeline entered and saw the flushed faces, the heaving bosoms and understood. She began to apologise and backed out of their room, closing the door firmly. The two friends collapsed into each other’s arms, giggling hysterically.
The following day Sami cornered her elusive uncle.
“Unk I want a word.”
“Oh? What can I do?”
“What you can do is tell me why Madeline is here when you didn’t even tell me you’d invited her to my party.”
“Madeline is here,” he started in dignified tones “because her daughter is here. Cherie-Anne is French and everyone else is English and there are 80 local friends invited and ... and she will want someone she knows.”
“Unk, sometimes you really are a smoothie aren’t you? You really are. Cherie has been here loads of times and been out with me and my friends. Is there something I should know? About you and Madeline?”
“No more than I need to know about you and Cherie-Anne” he retorted.
Samantha blushed a rosy pink. “She TOLD you? Anyway we only kissed hello again.”
“If you say so, Samantha!” Her uncle’s grin and twinkling eyes said louder than any words that his belief in ‘... just kissed hello ...’ carried little credibility.
They hugged. Too close in their hearts to attempt further subterfuge. “Do you love her?” she asked, held close to his chest.
“After you Sami, I think she’s getting very important to me. She can’t ever take Emily’s place. I don’t want her to. I don’t WANT her to be Emily She’s her own person and isn’t Em and can’t be Em. But ‘yes’ to answer you, I think I care for her a lot.”
“That’s OK then. I like her too.”
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On the Friday afternoon before the party all of her Uni friends who were staying over had arrived but one. Belinda hadn’t arrived, hadn’t phoned.
The college friends hung out that evening at Sam’s second favourite pub, ‘The Black Swan,’ known locally as ‘The Mucky Duck,’ where Samantha had been able to hire a private function room and bar for the evening. Teams were formed, darts and dominoes were played, animated discussions took place round wine and beer laden tables, cold snacks were consumed and there was even a quiz with Cherie as quizmaster, which became more hilarious as the college friends imbibed from the free bar arranged by their hostess. Finally, a hand bell was rung and the traditional call “Time Gentlemen Please” was made at 10.30 p.m. Tea towels were hung over the beer pump handles to indicate that no more drinks would be served. A minibus arrived and took Sami’s guests to their hotels and, arm in arm, she and Cherie strolled back in the warm evening to her home.
Sam’s anxiety grew as she sat with Cherie at her side in Unk’s living room, the room in which Sam had been given horrendously unimaginable news. A late night movie failed to hold her attention. Music failed to calm.
At half past midnight the yard alarm sounded. A push-button request for admission rang in a loud peal.
“Stay there” Danny commanded and made for the door to the yard. Madeline made to follow but he gently asked her to wait with the girls. Although she obeyed she stood, nervously pacing, aware of the tension and the reason for it.
Soon he was back with a huge smile of relief on his face and in walked Belinda. The girls rushed to hold her close, their cries of ‘thank God’ and ‘merci mon Dieu’ muffled by the hugs of relieved welcome. Sami became aware of a man standing behind Belinda. Quite tall. Quite handsome. Quite heart catchingly appealing.
“Sami-girl I hope you don’t mind. This is my brother Don. I tried to ring but the damned battery went kaput after I’d called him. My car absolutely refused to start and he couldn’t make it work either and finally he said he’d bring me. Guess what? He hadn’t even got his phone with him. Men hey? Never any good when you need them are they? Ooops sorry Mr. Bure! And the hotel was locked and barred because it was too late,” Belinda babled on in her slightly gauche and incoherent way. “And this is him. Don these are my friends Samantha and Cherie. You two, this is my brother Donald. He publishes stuff.”
Sami in turn introduced her uncle and Cherie’s mother. A strange disconcerting ‘something’ flowed between Samantha and Donald as their eyes met.
Danny said although not enough beds were made up he could give Don a sofa, and there was one last guest room prepared and his sister could use that. Samantha rushed upstairs to the linen cupboard and brought a blanket and pillows for this unknown, but somewhat disturbing man.
Danny identified the downstairs facilities for their unexpected guest and everyone could at last retire to rest and sleep.
The coming weekend was a huge success. There was delight in meeting again the people she (and of course Cherie) had been so close to at University. They were all introduced to her local friends. The music was great, the dancing enthusiastic, the ethnically varied buffet was excellent, and the discovery that Madeline had the most delightfully rich jazz voice, a deep powerful contralto which excited and enriched the melodies of jazz had the guests grouped around the small stage, listening and applauding and begging for more. That she also played tenor sax with liquid rhythms came with little surprise.
Sami was constantly aware of Don and each time she looked at him, he was looking at her. They danced together, chatted together but there was a strange tension between them. Somehow, she knew not why, she had been pleased Danny invited him to stay, if only to return his sister safely home she told herself. He was more than happy with the sofa, he said, but had been re-allocated to his sister’s room after she left for the hotel the following day.
The weekend passed, the guests left the hospitality provided. Belinda said her goodbyes in the yard beside her brother’s car and was braced by her two girlfriends. The man offered his hand in thanks but on a sudden impulse Sami held his shoulders and kissed his cheek. He quickly took her arms in his, returning her chaste kiss with one that burned from within him and seemed to scorch her cheek.
Cherie looked on and watched the exchange, recognising what they failed to recognise.
The car drove off. The two friends linked arms and strolled into the suddenly empty garden. There was the quietness of friendship and understanding between them.
“Sami, when you find your beau ami, the man you must love alone in the world, will you rber me?”
“I don’t know what you mean” exclaimed her friend “what rubish you do talk.”
“I think this man, Don, he has found a little tiny place in your heart so quickly. I think he becomes so special a man for you.”
“And I think you are silly French ...” she paused ... silly French ...” and for no reason she knew, she burst into tears.
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During the following days Don’s face, his blue eyes, his smile, flitted in and out of her mind. Her heart seemed to flip-flop as she rbered him holding her to return her own impetuous but chaste kiss. This was so STUPID she thought. She didn’t know the man. He held no attraction for her. They probably had nothing in common and would hate each other’s interests and hobies.
Another week passed and Cherie departed for France but Madeline stayed on. For the first time in years Sami lacked a shoulder to turn to.
A few days later the phone in her apartment shrilled out its impatient call. “Hi - 769584 who is this?”
“Sam it’s me, Lynnie” and Sam then recognised the voice of her friend Belinda.
“Lynnie how great to hear you. How are you?”
“Right now trying to cadge a huge favour. I don’t suppose you rber my brother Don?”
Sam’s heart missed a beat. “Ermm yes I think I do. Why?”
“You know he’s in publishing? Well you probably forget. Anyway he’s looking for a cheap place to buy where he can set up his business with low overheads and maybe room to expand his stock or whatever, and he says he loves where you are in the country. Cheaper prices. He wants to spend a few days looking round and wonders if you would point him at house agents and even, if you have time, help him find places. The geography you know to save him time,” Belinda gushed. “I told him you’re much to busy for that but if you could help him with agents to ask it would be good. And he really is pushing it I know he is but he said could you book him in at some cheap bed and breakfast place?”
Sami’s heart didn’t know whether to settle in her throat or her tummy. “Lynnie, yes I’ll see if I can find the time but I’m pretty busy” while her conscience screamed at her ‘Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!’
“OK I’ll give him your number and he’ll call. Must dash. Bye Sam.” And the line went dead.
Samantha replaced the phone, the handset rattling in the cradle as she fumbled with it. Her cheeks burned, her heart beat loudly in her ears. She put her hands to her cheeks and then the phone shrilled again. “Hi - 769584 who is this?”
“Is that my sister Belinda’s friend? Am I through to Samantha Johnson? This is Lyn’s brother Donald. Do you rber me?”
“Donald? Yes. I think I rber you.” ‘Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!’ her conscience again screamed in her head.
Don went through the rigmarole of wanting a place to buy, Sami saying she would try to find time to help. Then it was ‘how are you?’ and ‘I’m fine and how are you?’ And ‘how kind of her uncle to let him stay.’ And she saying ‘they were glad to help her friend Belinda’s brother.’ And all the time her heart turning somersaults.
Then he was asking ‘when could he visit?’ And she was saying ‘anytime’. And him saying ‘he didn’t want to be in her way and stop her being with her SPECIAL friends.’ And she saying ‘well she could maybe arrange things if he really wanted to come soon.’ And him saying ‘yes as soon as she could see him.’ And she asking ‘when?’ And him saying ‘tomorrow?’ And her saying ‘yes OK’ very softly. And him saying ‘you mean like TOMORROW?’ And her saying ‘yes’ and him saying ‘see you then’ and her saying ‘yes see you’ and him saying ‘bye then’ and her saying ‘bye then.’ And both put their phones down with shaking hands. In the daze of hearing him she failed to realise that he must have been standing by his sister Belinda as she made the first call. Hoping Samantha would see him. Dreading she would not.
She phoned a Bed & Breakfast and reserved a room for the following night. She was in town as soon as Agents opened and collected a wad of leaflets. She drove quickly back prepared to wait impatiently for his arrival but he was already there. Waiting in the yard. Unk talking with him.
She tried to appear cool, nonchalant, at ease as she stepped out of her car and held out her hand to Donald. “Hello again. You are early.”
Her over bright voice, the bloom in her cheeks made Danny look at her wonderingly. Don suddenly lost his ‘hail fellow well met’ confidence and seemed almost bashful. “Well come on in the pair of you. Let’s have a coffee.” Samantha explained she had booked a room for Donald but Danny said what a waste of money, would the lad like to stay here? Don’s delighted acceptance caused Sami a strange feeling of nervousness. ‘What am I thinking? Why am I reacting like this?’ she demanded of herself. She determined she would be calm and cool, treating him simply as her friend’s brother.
The Agents’ leaflets were laid out on the table and possibilities were discussed. A route to maximise time was laid out, daily lists were made and the young couple set off in Don’s car.
Among the dross of totally unsatisfactory properties, at the end of the first day one stood out. The rest of the leaflets were scrapped and that one held in reserve while they inspected more on the following day. From each completed list he held back just one property and Don, to his intense pleasure, found that day by day Samantha was taking more and more interest in the search.
She remained slightly aloof, friendly, even more than kind, but aloof nevertheless he thought, but made intelligent enquiries about his business, what it involved, how it was run, what it needed to be successful. Her keen mind, honed by academic study and stimulated by the clarity of Don’s own thinking made their conversations alive with ideas. Her academic degree fitted neatly into his publishing and literary interests. Increasingly they discussed the nature of publishing, what appealed to readers, more importantly what appealed to buyers of books, and the capabilities of various authors. Don’s week at Danny’s home went into a second week after Don had secretly visited town and scraped the barrel for other properties. Realising time was running out he said he needed to revisit several properties on his short list and talk with the appropriate Agents, which gave him a third week with Samantha. Danny looked on and wondered if his niece was falling in love as knew that Don was already lost to any other woman.
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It had been another perfect summer’s day with Don, as befitted his business status, dressed in smart white cotton shirt with tie and dark blue trousers. Samantha was dressed in a primrose yellow trouser suit which he liked to see her wear - specially bought to please him although he hadn’t realised it!
In the still of the evening as they returned from seeing the last of the possible properties, Don already knew that he had no justification for expecting further hospitality at Mr Bure’s home. He determined - if he could find the courage - to tell Samantha how he felt about her.
He was driving his own car when suddenly he made up his mind and pulled off the road into a secluded picnic area, now deserted in the late evening. He turned to her as she sat beside him.
“Sam ...” He cleared his suddenly husky throat and started again. “Sami ... that is ... I mean Samantha.”
“Yes, Don?” Her heart began to quake.
“We’ve finished the list off today. I know which I want to buy. I just want to tell you how fantastic you’ve been, giving me all your time.” His hand reached out and touched her face and he felt her press her cheek against his fingers, welcoming his touch. “Sam ... I mean Samantha ... if I offer for the property ...” he stopped, nervous to go on to commit himself. What if she said ‘no?’
“Tell me Don. Say what you want to tell me” she said softly while ‘GO ON - TELL ME’ the voice in her head screamed.
His hand turned her face to look at him. “Sami I ... well ... I want the place so I can be near you ... Samantha ... I love you.” His heart was thundering in his ears as he waited for her response.
“I know you do, silly, I’ve know it since soon after you came and Uncle Dan asked you to stay,” and softly “I love you too.”
“Really? REALLY? HONESTLY?” and she laughed and said “if you don’t believe me, must I write it down for you?”
He reached for her and she turned, accepting his arms as he clumsily tried to hold her in the confined space of the car. He leaned towards her and she responded. Their lips met in a kiss. The barriers she had hidden behind crumbled and the kiss became a lover’s kiss. His brace became an brace which silently begged for and was gaspingly granted, an intimacy of touch as he placed his nervous hand over the swell of her breasts. His fingers were plucking at the buttons of her coat, fumbling with a man’s clumsiness.
“Wait” she panted and he thought he’d gone too far but she rapidly unfastened the buttons to allow what he wanted.
His shaking hands pulled her coat open and the whiteness of her bra made him shiver. Samantha reached down and activated the lever to lower the seat so she was lying on her back beside him. She lay there, quite still, her eyes bright, looking at him as she waited. “I love you, Don” she again whispered.
Don’s hand rested on her naked tummy below her bra, feeling her tense at his touch, but she still made no move to stop him. He lowered his own seat and twisted his hips so he could bend over her. She closed here eyes and their lips met once more. His hand moved tentatively over her bra, stroking her, feeling the firmness of her breasts. Awkwardly he tried to put his hand down the top to feel her but she broke the kiss and pulled her bra up revealing the thrust of her nipples, dark in the late evening light.
His hand cautiously touched and as she lay unresisting, he again kissed her. The kiss became feverish as their passion grew. His hand was groping, first one breast then the other, feeling on her nipples. She again broke the kiss and her hand pushed his head down and his lips searched and found a nipple. He began to lick and suckle on her. She put her hand behind his head to hold him to her as her head arched back in pleasure.
Don began to brush over her trousers, along her thigh, back to her tummy and back down again. As he moved it upwards he let it slide along her inner thigh, slowly, so very slowly inching towards her centre. He paused. Close now. Her legs were quivering under his heated palm. His thumb reached and found the seam between her legs and his nail rasped along it. Her hips twitched and he heard her panting intake of breath.
Samantha’s hand clutched his head more tightly to her breast as he reached for the band of her trousers, his fingers moving with more confidence as they slipped under the elasticated waist. She was breathing heavily, gasping as he now found the edge of her panties. He was in them! OH GOD he was in her panties. Silken hairs. Down further. Pushing at the panties and trousers with the back of his fingers as they impeded him. Feeling the heat. Touching. Feeling. Conscious of her humidity. His middle finger parting her slit. Wet. God she was wet. Finding the place, the spilling place, telling him of her need and the love she would give him.
He pressed and she allowed him entry. His finger probed. Filled her with his finger. Moved his finger in his act of love. His thumb felt her hard nub. Rubed it gently. Her hips lifted and bucked against his hand. Her hand reached down to hold him in place as her orgasm burst from her sweet needful body. She cried out her ecstasy.
The hand on his head eased its pressure as she became more quiet, as the shuddering in her tummy slowly changed to the ripples of her after shocks.
His cheek now rested on her breast and he lifted to look at her face. Her eyes were closed but as he looked she opened them and saw him. She gave a small smile, a contented smile, and pulled his head to kiss him.
“Don that was wonderful for me. Thank you my very own Darling. Now it’s your turn” and she pushed him away from her, telling him to lie back. He made as if to unfasten himself but she tapped his hand. “Lie still. Please let me do it. Take your tie off and don’t get in my way” she giggled.” He pulled at the knot of his tie and as his fingers passed by his nose, he caught the smell, the private scent of her. She quickly unpicked his shirt buttons then fumbled with his belt. He reached down and deftly unclipped it.
“Get your hands out of the way and DON’T MOVE” she said. She unfastened him at the waist and there was the soft ‘zipppp’ as she opened his trousers. His shirt was parted, her soft fingers brushed over his tummy, his chest, raked gently over his nipples. His cock was trapped in his briefs and he ached for her to touch it, to release the desperate fullness inside him.
She sat up and shrugged off her coat, unsnapped and released her bra and he gazed in wonder at the vision. She bent over him, and as her nipple touched his lips, he felt her hand slip inside his briefs and softly discover the shape of his cock. He groaned.
Again he suckled on her nipple. She fondled him, feeling for his hard length, feeling for his balls; at last she held her fingers round the fatness of his prick, her hand pulled it out of his briefs and started to jerk him off.
She knew he was close. His gasping breath. His heaving tummy. He thrust into her hand as she pulled his skin back. He released her nipple and gasped onto her naked breast “Sami ... I’m cumminggggggggggggggggg” and he erupted as she held it so that the spurts of cum shot up and over his chest and tummy. She held it as it throbed out again and again. Bending over she kissed him as he released his pent up love for her. Holding it in a possessive grip as it softened she laid her chest over his, feeling his heart beat calming. Feeling the wetness of his cum on her breast as well as on his.
They lay there for unknown minutes in intimate brace until Samantha lifted from him and touched the wetness of him on her body. “Give me your hanky Don, I don’t want your stuff on my suit” and she giggled. So the lovers cleaned up and the soaking hanky was dropped at Samantha’s feet.
They replaced and adjusted clothing. They left their retreat in the woodland, and drove slowly to Samantha’s home. She leapt out of the car, using her key to deactivate the alarm while her lover drove into the yard, then hurried to him and whispered that she would go in through her private entrance. He should go into the main house and say she had a headache and had gone to bed. She told him she would leave the door to her apartment unlocked. They kissed in a hungry brace.
Danny, anxious at them being so late and having had no phone call, with the ghosts of eight years ago rising in front of him, saw them through a window, relieved to see them safely home. He saw the brace. He saw his niece run quietly to her private entrance to let herself in. Don walked in, and looked into the living room where Danny now sat watching a late show. Don put on a yawn, said he was tired out from the property searches and that Samantha had a splitting headache. Danny merely kept a solemn face and wished him a good night.
Daniel did his regular late night yard inspection using a powerful torch, searching for anything unusual. At Don’s car he checked to be sure it was securely locked and flashed the light inside. He immediately saw the crumpled hanky in the passenger well and smiled. ‘Soooo’ he thought, ‘the two were now lovers were they? Or damned well soon would be. Splitting headache indeed!’ and he grinned broadly at the idea. A man’s discarded crumpled hanky was a dead giveaway after all.
Inside the house Don stripped out of his clothes and hurried to the adjacent bathroom. He showered. He shaved. He used his aftershave and deodorant. Dressed only in his boxers he crept down the passage and eased open the door to Samantha’s sanctuary. She was already showered and lay naked on her bed, an image of Grecian marble perfection. He looked down, absorbing his first view of her heart stopping beauty, the highlights and shadows that defined the splendour that was this woman, HIS woman now. His trbling fingers became all thumbs as he struggled to drop his shorts and join her.
He knelt beside her, awkward on the single width bed. She moved more to one side. He lay beside her. The lovers searched and found the shiveringly erotic differences which were unique to a man and a woman. Both had skills in love making. Both were able to give to the other, the delight, the exquisitely unique exaltation that only a lover can give to their beloved partner. Their discoveries were of a newly revealed person; each was new to the other; each was stimulated and enchanted by the other. Both gave their totality to the other in an unconditional declaration of love.
He touched and caressed her silky skin. His hand sought her where now he could see, but in the silent wood had been only able to feel. He saw her open. He knelt between the spread legs, now positioned for the ultimate surrender of her most intimate gift. He realised the totality of her gift, freely offered. She reached for him, wanting him. She guided him and held him to her woman’s place. He thrust, penetrating her. She gasped as she felt him claim her. She accepted him, all of him, as a part of herself. He began to fill the wonder of her soft body with rhythm and power and strength of his.
His movements on and in her stimulated every part of her welcoming body. She thrust her hips against his, riding her mound on the base of his raging thrusting cock completing a magical union for them both. They were one in love.
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Danny accepted their relationship; there was no question that when Don visited, he shared Samantha’s bedroom.
It was springtime. Warmth was in the air and the pretty flowers of new life sprouted in gardens and hedgerows. Trees bore the fat buds which soon would release the freshness of new leaves to cover the drab starkness of their winter’s browns and greys.
Don had made an acceptable offer for a property which gave him not only work and limited storage space, but also family space.
Samantha had been helping him decorate; for one of the rooms, which faced north, she had chosen pale cream as a colour wash to lighten and make the potentially sombre room more pleasing, while allowing a better viewing for colour photographs and paintings against printers’ proof sheets.
The final coat had been applied to the walls, the debris of decorating cleansed from the floor and a table and chairs moved in. It was another room completed and almost ready for use.
Don looked at the young woman who now filled his life. She was in paint stained trousers, worn and much splodged T shirt and with a bandana wound about her head to keep her hair clean. She had a dark streak across her nose and cheek where she had used the back of a dirty hand to rub at an elusive itch. She was gruby. She wore old and stained clothing. Her old running shoes were a total disgrace. She was a nightmare. But to him she looked totally enchanting and feminine. He wanted this woman for the rest of his life.
“Sam?”
“What? she asked.
“Sami look at me.”
“Now don’t you start anything I know that voice. I’m just going to clean that window it’s filthy. Then we can get the curtains up.”
He walked up to her and pulled her back into his front. She leaned into him as he held her close. “I TOLD you don’t start anything.”
“Samantha, please marry me. I love you. I want you for ever. I want us to be together for always.”
Her heart sank. Her mind raced. He didn’t know about Cherie-Anne. He didn’t know about Uncle Danny. She couldn’t accept. She couldn’t say yes. He felt her stiffen in his arms.
Her silence turned him cold. “Sami? Don’t you feel for me as I feel for you? I thought you loved me. Please, please marry me ... Talk to me ... Please say something ... Anything ... Don’t freeze me out.”
.
He felt her take deep breath. He felt her try to relax her sudden tension.
“Sami?” he repeated.
The tightness returned to her chest as she tried to speak. “Don. Oh Don. You don’t want me. You don’t want me for your wife. You really truly don’t want to marry me. Can’t we just be like we are now?”
He forcefully turned her around to face him. “What sort of stupidity is that? I KNOW I want you. I KNOW I love you. I KNOW without you life isn’t any life for me. Only with you do I come alive. Only with you do my thoughts race and my ideas gel and decisions are easier and not harder. And anyway, I can’t afford to pay an editor like you so you have to marry me!” he joked.
He tried to make her look at him but she buried her head in his shoulder. She still said not a word.
“Sami I know you love me. I just know it. So what’s so bad about being married?”
She clutched at his shirt. “What’s so bad? Please don’t ask. Please don’t.”
“Do you love me?” Silence.
“Sami I will never let this drop. DO YOU LOVE ME?”
A small ‘yes’ almost lost itself in the folds of his shirt.
“So. Get the knitting wool out of that intelligent brain, stop behaving like an idiot and explain to me. I love you and you love me. So why won’t you say ‘yes’? Give me one good reason why not.”
He felt her chest swell as she attempted control. “Because I do love you that’s why I won’t .......... Because I made love before I met you with Uncle Danny for one good reason.”
He hugged her more closely. “If I said that Lynnie and me had ... ermm ... played when we were younger. Would that make you not want to marry me?”
“You haven’t. I know you haven’t. I don’t believe you. You’re only saying it to make me say yes.”
He lifted her chin and looked down at her reluctant face. “Samantha Johnson, I swear to you that me and my sister Belinda have done nice things for each other. Made love together. Just as we did in my car for our first time. And more than we did then. Every time she came home from Uni.”
She again buried her face in his chest. “I don’t mind that then. But there’s something you will hate me for and Don, I don’t want you to hate me, not ever.”
“Before you tell me any more, why don’t you want me to hate you, ‘not ever?’”
“Because I want you to love me for ever” she wailed.
“Whatever you tell me. Whatever you’ve done, whatever you IMAGINE you’ve done, I love you and I can’t help that. Just as you can’t help whatever it is you’re afraid to tell me. So tell me.”
“ Cherie-Anne. And me. At University for nearly 3 years now.”
“You mean you and that sexy French girl make LOVE??”
“Yes. But if you forgive me. I won’t any more.”
“You mean ... you mean ... naked ... feeling and things and touching ... and ... and ... do you get orgasms together???”
“Yes.”
He pulled her closer and she felt the excitement of him grow. His hands were reaching for the fastening of her trousers. She felt him loosen them. Felt them sliding over her thighs as he reached to find her.
“Sami marry me” and he laid her on her back on the table.
“But Cheri-Anne we said ...”
Her trousers were off. Her panties pulled to one side. His frantic fingers released his zipper and his need for her.
His knob found her. As always she subconsciously released her love flow to help their togetherness. He thrust at her. She accepted him inside, feeling him fill the place that always waited for him.
“Marry me” he demanded as he filled her totally.
“But Cherie ...”
“You can love with her on one condition.”
“What?” she gasped as he withdrew and filled her again.
“Every time you do, you tell me afterwards what she does. What you do. Tell me what she likes. NOW SAY YOU WILL MARRY ME.”
“Yes. Yes. Yes.Donnnnnnyyyyyyyessssssssssssssssssssssssssssss”
And they erupted in passion.
©©©©©©©©©©
And so they were married and in the course of time Peter and Susan were born.
Cherie-Anne married and lived in France for many years but she and Samantha still met, if only on yearly visits to each other’s homes. The meetings might be infrequent but were still filled with love. Cherie eventually returned to England , living with her French husband, Marcel and family close to Samantha’s home. Don and Marcel had become became firm friends and the multi-lingual Marcel accepted a senior position with Don on the European Marketing side. Quite soon he was a partner to the delight of Samantha and Cherie.
Samantha kept her promise and whispered secrets in Don’s ear as she and Cherie made occasional love, causing Don to perform magnificently to the great pleasure of them both.
The children grew and matured. Samantha rbered her own young experiences at the hands of her cousin and determined that her own children would learn their love making inside a family of love. Where only love influenced every touch, every emotion, and raw, casual, fleeting sex never intruded.
Everything in her life had been shared with her husband. He knew the history of the sexual assaults on her, of her near rape and of her fury. He knew the depths of her despair and final reconciliation with the death of her parents. He knew how the loving friendship of Cherie-Anne had begun her reawakening to forgotten pleasures. He knew that her Uncle Danny had respected her growing into innocent womanhood, and then with the deliberate wiles of his niece, had succumbed to her, as he had himself, and in doing so had brought her to accept and enjoy love with a man who loved her for who she was, and not what she was.
THE END - FIN
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