1 comments/ 23311 views/ 10 favorites Kidnap Me Please Ch. 01 By: FinalStand *I can't tell you what Paradise is like, but I'll know it when I see it* The first moment I realized I was in trouble there was a van door sliding open and a man in a ski mask holding a submachine gun came out at me. The van cut off my forward progress and another car hemmed me in from behind. "Open the door and slide over!" the man yelled at me. That barrel looked awful big so I did as I was told. When he got in he commanded that I handcuff myself and put on a black hood. After that, we drove around, parked somewhere then I was transferred to the van and driven around even more. I had no idea where I was. I was aware that I was hungry and thirsty. When I asked for water, they shoved something hard into my stomach and told me to shut up. After that all I could do was pay attention to what was going on around me and hoped that any background noises might give me a clue as to where I was. Of course, I prayed that I would live to see my Mother again as well. They weren't after me. I'm an only child, my Father died when I was nine, and my Mother does cutting edge research for a genetics lab. They didn't really want money; they wanted something from my Mother. Being seen as a bargaining chip didn't do much for my self-esteem. Believing that my Mother may not be able to do whatever it was she was asked to do didn't make me feel any better either. I soon figured out there were four kidnappers. The first two were the Professionals. They were a husband/wife team that pretty much thought together and worked things out quickly and efficiently. I didn't learn too much about them because they didn't talk too much and when they did it was in hushed tones. They really didn't have much to do with me once I was in the safe house. I called them Joker and Harley. The other two I labeled the Expendables. The male of the bunch was a brutish thug who delighted in coming over to me and telling me that he was going to shove a grenade up my ass if Mom didn't come through. When I asked him what he was trying to get he hit me. I took that to mean he didn't know and that the professionals didn't trust him with the information. I didn't blame them. Sadly, I think this sick psychopath would be the one to kill me. He was the Thug. The other expendable didn't talk much, which was mainly because she was the 'step-and-fetch-it' of the group. Everything was 'slut' this and 'you slut' that. Even the professionals despised her. With their continuous need to repeat themselves around her I got the impression she wasn't too bright. She also must have had the self-worth of a mouse. She was the Punching Bag. Soon enough I had to do the whole 'Proof of Life' thing and the professionals headed out to get the ransom. I figured that would be the last we would see of them too. I told Thug as much and he went nuts on me. Then he went nuts on the professionals. I heard guns cock and a deathly silence. Finally the Professionals agreed to take the Expendables with them. Harley 'suddenly' realized that someone needed to stay with me, the hostage, because somehow I was going to bust out of the handcuffs restraining me to the chair and bolt for freedom. I felt my Hulk coming on. Seriously, I thought that my wrists would snap before the wood in the chair would. I had no intention of running away. I kept mum on that fact because I knew what was coming. Thug in his brilliance decided that the Punching Bag should stay with me until they got back. Since I was pretty sure that the only thing the Thug was going to get was a bullet to the back of the head and I would never see the Professionals again, I decided to take my chances with the Punching Bag. I sat back and waited. I asked the Punching Bag for something to drink so she brought me a soda. I reminded her that I couldn't open it with my teeth but if she would un-cuff me I would gladly do it myself. She opted to open it for me because she was afraid of her 'brother' (Thug?). I nearly choked to death before she realized that I couldn't take the whole thing in one gulp. Next I asked for some music, or something to listen to. She cut on the TV because, you know, I wanted to stare at the black hood fabric on my head during the Wheel of Fortune. I asked her to take off my hood so I could watch TV with her. She thought it over. Five minutes later she asked me to repeat the question because she'd forgotten what it was. I gave up. The show was pre-empted by news of a shootout at a local mall. It seems three criminals had duked it out with dozens of cops who just happened to be on the scene. The van the criminals were in had exploded for some unknown reason. What do you know; the Thug really did have a hand grenade. The Punching Bag watched it happen, watched it happen again, then suddenly burst into hysterics. "Oh God! My Brother is dead. What am I going to do?" "Let me go and I can help you," I offered. "No, I can't do that. They will be pissed with me when they get back if I do that." Duh? "They aren't coming back. They are crispy critters at the mall," I persisted. "Oh ... we'll I can't let you go because they will be angry." "I think we have established that they won't be angry with you if you only unmask me," I said, changing tact. "Oh, alright then, if you don't think they will be angry." I really had no answer to that. She took off my hood and I blink hard due to the sudden light. As my eyes adjusted I began to think something was wrong with them. I blink again and I'm certain that it wasn't my eyes. This girl was a bombshell; fucking gorgeous, whatever else you want to call it. Bending over facing me, I could look from her crystal blue eyes all the way down to her tits of mythical proportions. At this time I would like to point out the biggest reason that men work out is to see women in sports bras. "Are you okay?" she asked me with total innocence and the first thing that occurred to me is this girl is about to be doing twenty-to-life in some lesbian correctional facility being DP'ed by some bull-dyke named Ethel and her buddies. "I'm okay. Are you hungry?" I inquired. She looked at me, processing the information. "Sure," she smiled. "Where do you want to go to?" "Chucky Cheese?" she suggested to which I nodded. "Let's go," I smiled. I moved my arms to remind her that I was secured to the chair. "A little help here?" She pulled out the key and unlocked the cuffs. I looked at the gun in her waistband. It was big – a .44 or .40; I'm not a big guy. I could have taken it then and that would've been that. She had this open trusting look in her eyes. "You may want to keep the gun on me," I hinted. She looked confused. "I'm your kidnap victim?" "Oh! Yes, thanks. Hold on," she said as she pulled out the gun and pointed it at me. "Well, I think you partners are going to be busy for a while, but the cops might be able to trace them back here so we should go," I told her. She bobbed her head. "Do you have a lot of cash? We don't want use my credit cards because they will be able to trace us through them," I said. "They can do that?" She gasped. I groaned. This was going to be harder than I thought. "What is your criminal background? For that matter, what is your name?" "My name is Tamara Miller and I don't know what you mean by that first question," she responded. "Tamara, I'm Leo Keyes and I need to know how old you are and if you have ever been in prison," I sighed. "Does foster care count?" I shook my head. "No," she said meekly. "Have you ever been a prostitute?" I had to ask. She nodded. "You do realize that's against the law, right?" "It is?" she replied in shock. "I always wore a condom. Does that count?" "Yes it does, Tamara. Was that other guy really your brother? You know the one who kept hitting me." "Yes, his name is Roy." "Was he your pimp ... did you give him your money from whoring yourself out?" I said sadly. She nods again. "Assuming your brother doesn't come back, what are your plans?" She stared at me with a childlike vacantness. "Your brother isn't coming back, Tamara. None of them are coming back." Tamara started crying. This woman couldn't go to prison. She'd die. "He left me didn't he?" she sobbed. "I did something stupid and he left me." "Tamara, you didn't do anything stupid. Your brother got ..." telling her he'd become a briquette didn't seem fair, "... arrested, but he wants you to stay free so ... you need to find a place to put me until you can figure out how to ... make money enough to get him free." "Okay ... I can do that ... what should I do?" she pleaded. "Is there a car?" She nodded. "Fine, let's get all the cash we can then go to a motel near the edge of town. We'll plan our next move from there." She nodded. "Let's do it now." She nodded again. She looked at me. I took her hand and walked through the house until I found a black bag with some cash and weapons. It was a criminal Go-To bag. We headed out to the car; she got into the driver side. I had her pop the trunk so we could store the goods. I took a few hundred with me and jumped into the passenger side and we took off. "My Brother is dead, isn't he?" she finally said to me at a stoplight and I started reassessing how much she was in shock and how much that she was simply not too bright. She had seen her brother burned up on national television and might even have understood that it was his own dumb fault. I imagined he was the only family she had left. "Do you need me to drive?" I asked her. Tamara nodded. She slipped across the seat and I ran around the car. "Do you know a hotel that might work as a hideout?" "No, I never did much thinking about what do if Roy died." "Okay Tamara, we are going to go get a motel room then went to the Chucky Cheese to work on your survival plan. I figure once you are set, I can escape and you can make a clean getaway. I'll tell them you are a fifty year old black man with one eye and a limp." She grinned at that then started to cry. I hate it when girls cry. I moved over to her side and put an arm around Tamara to comfort her. As she leaned into me it occurred to me that Tamara was quite tall; maybe six feet. She had golden blonde hair nearly to her ass, but it was thick. She has all the right curves, if you like your woman curvaceous, and as stated earlier, tits to die for. Her face is somewhat round and angelic with the clearest ice-blue eyes I'd ever seen. Every ounce of my being screamed at me to fuck this girl, yet here I was comforting her and trying to protect her. "I'm scared Leo," she hiccupped. "I've got you Tamara. I'll figure a way out of this for you." Tamara's response to grief was to go out and play at Chucky Cheese. I'll give her this much; for an eighteen year old, she rocked at those games. Also, her grip was stronger than mine, and when she playfully punched me in the arm, it hurt. When I asked her about it, she matter-of-factly told me she'd been fighting off men and boys in the foster homes since she was ten. She was quite the fighter. We got back to the motel shortly after dark. There I was on the evening news. The police were out in force looking for me. I was rich and privileged after all, and I'm sure Mom contributed to all the right people. There was no hint of Tamara. They were still trying to identify the three possible kidnappers that died in the explosion though they had definitely determined what had happened. An off-duty cop had stumbled upon the scene and acted. Shots were fired and the van blew up when something inside was hit. There was some belief that I was the 'third body'. I decided we both needed a shower. I suggested that Tamara go first and she could handcuff me to the bed. She decided I should go first and she could then handcuff me to the bed naked. I had a hard time arguing with that logic. It felt good to get clean. I showered, shaved, and checked my face in the mirror. I wrapped a towel around my waist and went out to see Tamara watching Cartoon Network. I'd never actually watched that before. I didn't do much watching after I sat down either. Tamara handcuffed me to the bed then started stripping in front of me, just out of reach. I wasn't sure if that was on purpose, or poor spatial awareness. She seemed totally oblivious to my wide hungry eyes. As she sashayed toward the bathroom and looked over her shoulder with that child-like innocence she said, "Please don't run away. I don't know what I would do without you." She then noticed the tent under my towel, giggled and went into the bathroom. For my part, I rummaged through ever drawer I could reach with my hand or foot to see if there was a condom anywhere. I even thumbed through Gideon's Bible to see if someone used a condom as a book mark – no such luck. Tamara came out with a towel wrapped around her hair and nothing else. I absently noticed she'd used my razor, but I really didn't care. It was disposable and besides, she had left just enough hair to be sexy while allowing a man to get down to some serious business. "Tamara, what is the sleeping arrangement going to be?" I asked. Seeing some confusion, "Where are you going to sleep and where am I going to sleep?" "Oh, we are going to sleep in the same bed, Silly. I can't have you running off on me." "Tamara, I wouldn't do that to you," I confessed. "I know," she said as she crawled up on the bed with me, "but I don't want to be alone. Don't you worry none; I'll leave you be." Considering the last thing I wanted her to do was leave me be, I had to groan. She tucked me in, got the gun and put it between us, then snuggled in next to me – and the gun. "Good night Leo," she murmured as she drifted off to sleep. "Good night Tamara," I responded as I rolled onto my side and looked at her. She was soon asleep and snoring softly. I wanted to lie there all night and drink in her beauty. I was asleep in ten minutes. I felt a weight upon my hips and breathe upon my face. I woke up with a start, pretty sure I'd been dreaming the past forty-eight hours. I moved my sore, stiff arm and heard it clank against the bed post. Yes, I was handcuffed so no, I wasn't dreaming. I opened my eyes and in the dawn light coming through the curtains I made out Tamara hovering over me, hear head surrounded by a halo of golden hair. "Tamara, I ..." I began. She ground her hips against mine and I felt myself stiffly respond. "I didn't want to take advantage of you." Even I knew that sounded lame. "I know," she smiled, "that's why I want to do this. I always have to fight off the boys, but you are different. You respected me, so I want to reward you for being nice to me and not running away." "You handcuffed me to the bed. I wasn't going anywhere," I grinned. "I left the key next to the lamp," she told me. In all of her walking around naked I'd totally missed that. I could feel her getting damp and it was turning me on like nobody's business. I ran a hand along the curve of her ass to her hip and up to the closest breast. She gasped. "My breasts are very sensitive," she moaned. I tried to imagine how this could possibly be a bad thing. I traced a fingertip up to her nipple which became instantly hard. She arched her back and pushed harder down on my cock which was now slipping up and down between us. I wanted to put a hand on her back and pull her closer, but it clanked against the bedpost once more. "Tamara, if I had a hand free ..." Tamara shook her head. "No, I like you right where I have you," she smiled seductively. "You had your chance to get away." I try to twist my body so that I can lower my head enough to push her breast into my mouth, but my skeletal structure is having none of it. I must have whimpered because Tamara moved farther up my body so that I could accomplish the feat. I was very careful with the administration of my tongue and lips upon her breast. I didn't suck too hard, or for too long. I gave her a chance to recover by blowing cool air upon it whenever my lips moved away. From her guttural noises I could tell she loved it, but I had no idea until I felt my stomach become very wet and sticky. Her scream should have been a giveaway. My first thought was that she was so loud that someone might call the cops for fear that I was trying to kill her. Her first thought was to slide down and wedge my penis up inside her. I liked her choice better than mine – a whole lot better. Tamara wasn't tight, but she was snug and when she began working her vaginal muscles on me I knew I wouldn't last long. "Do you like that?" she teased. I was too busy trying not to come to reply. She slid up and I popped out. She slid down again but failed to catch me like she had previously. She slid along my shaft until she was at my balls. "Whoops," she said with this all too cute pout. That was it for me. That voice; that face, and the feeling of her vagina sliding down my shaft caused me to shoot all over my belly and up to my chest. I doubted I had ever come that hard in my life and I wasn't even inside a girl. She sat there looking down at my stomach as my cock finished twitching. The look she gave me was priceless. Without words she said to me 'Did I do that?' She made it even better. "Let me clean that up for you," she said softly. How does any heterosexual man reply to that? I nodded vigorously of course. Tamara crawled backwards down my body. She pulled all of her hair to one side, leaned over my balls and began licking and sucking. I was rock hard again in seconds and that hasn't happened since I turned twenty. After giving each testicle its own tongue bath she moved up to my penis. She licked along each side, avoiding the head. When she had cleaned up pool of semen at the base of my stomach she went back for my penis. She rolled her tongue around the head then looked up. "Don't you dare come yet, ya hear?" she commanded. "I'll try not to, I swear," I ground out. I was already in the deep-breathing stage of arousal. Tamara slowly started bobbing up and down my cock, swallowing me in little bits. She was clearly a pro, because my whole member began disappearing down her throat. I've never been deep throated, but I've only had four blowjobs before either. My ex-fiancé preferred hand jobs because they were less 'gross'. I didn't know how it was for the rest of the male population, but the first time a woman (or man if that's your thing) takes all of you inside their mouth, it is Nirvana. Normally I don't come twice in a night. It takes a lot of bedroom antics to make me perform at that level. Here I was trying desperately not to come twice in just five minutes. "All clean," she pronounced as she let my cockhead roll off her tongue. "Are you sure you didn't miss a spot," I panted. "Sugar, I would have tasted it if I had," she smiled as she licked her lips. I couldn't argue with that. Holding her hair back, Tamara went back to the business of cleaning me up. It took me a moment to realize she wasn't accidentally rubbing her stomach against my cock. She was rolling it around and moving up and down over it. I damned that woman and her crafty ways while at the same time praying she'd never stop. "That's the last of it," she said as she raised herself to meet my eyes. "You missed a spot," I teased her. She looked confused so I leaned forward and licked a tiny bit of semen had gotten on her nose. That action made me re-evaluate my sexuality for a second. Normally the thought of tasting my own come would have felt gay, but not with her. With her it was fun. "Let me get that," she grinned. She leaned in and we swapped spit and semen and I couldn't tell you who got more of what on that exchange and I didn't care. What she said next had been told to me hundreds of times before but it had never sounded sexier. Kidnap Me Please Ch. 01 "You're fun." "Ditto," I replied. "Do you want to be inside me now?" she asked innocently. My mind struggled to come up with a coherent man-of-the-world sexy reply. It didn't' matter; my headed was nodding like a bobble head doll. She giggled which made me feel totally not like a fool. This time she used her hand to slide me into her womb. She made this low intense moan that drove my memories back to the earliest campfires in Africa where a man sunk his loins into a woman that very first time. It was that primal and unforgettable. "Feels so good," she sighed. She twisted and wiggled my whole length into her then sat there for what felt like ten seconds. I was reaching out to stroke her tender nipples again when the muscle contractions began. She began swaying to her own music. She took my hand and placed it cupping her breast while she took charge of the other one. I couldn't get over her muscle control. It was better than any hand job I'd ever had. The best thing was that she was really getting into it. "Uh, uh, uh, yes ... yes ... feels good ... don't come ... uh, uh, uh ..." she kept chanting. I tried and I tried. Even thoughts of throwing my naked crotch into a snow bank (drinking binges and snowboarding don't mix) didn't' help. I was grinding my teeth together so hard I was afraid something would crack. "Yes, yes, yes, YES!" she rose to a crescendo. Now her muscles really spasm and I was shooting off bursts of semen like a fire hose. I couldn't see to stop coming. Even when Tamara came crashing down on top of me, my cock was still twitching with a life all its own. "Thank you," I finally managed to say. "Oh, thank you. I haven't come that hard in forever," she enlightened me. "It was special for me. I've never met anyone like you." "I think that was why it was so good; because you are special. Most men ... you know, get in and get it over with," she said. "Most men are idiots. Speaking of idiots, the two of us need to get going. Your screaming probably reached the doughnut shop four blocks over," I joked. That made her blush, but the light in her eyes as she grinned at me was priceless. I reached over, got the key and removed the handcuffs connecting me to the bed. We hurriedly got dressed, check outside to see if the coast was clear, and hurried to the car. We slipped out of town unnoticed. We travelled on the smaller roads, only going into stores with no camera surveillance, and paying for everything with cash. At a truck stop about a hundred and fifty miles out Tamara stopped us because she said she was hungry. She took me into the bathroom and sucked my cock. Now, I knew this was a bad idea so I seriously thought about stopping her. Okay, I seriously considered the option of stopping her. Fine; the thought that I could stop her was on my list of options that I promptly ignored because fuck it all, she was that damn good. I did feel guilty about putting her at risk like that after we were done. I felt so bad in fact it that a hundred miles down the road I had her pull over, took her behind some boulders and kiss, licked, and tongued her so well that her screams scared away every coyote in a five mile radius. I felt so bad that she had to beg me with tears in her eyes for me to stop. Then she told me she could hardly wait for the next motel. Best Road Trip Ever. At the little tourist death trap we came to shortly after dark, we bought some more clothes, paid for the addle-brained night manager to wash or current threads, and settled down for a night of microwave dinners and soda. I was in the news again. They knew I hadn't been in the van, but they claimed to have no leads. There was no picture of Tamara, but we decided that I couldn't go out without sunglasses and ball cap on. We didn't make love right at the start because I think all the stress of the past thirty-six hours was sinking in. She was an orphan and I was on the lamb from the law. I'd made a choice that many people would see as criminal. I had a life I was ignoring. Mostly I had a Mom that was worried sick about me. I was her only family. My bitch of an ex-fiancé had moaned to the cameras on how frantic she was, forgetting the fact that she had dumped me the very night I'd been taken. Cunt. I had a few good friends who were sensible enough to stay away from the news. I had a medical practice that was going to have to do some reshuffling to meet my patient load. Mom would make sure my house and belongings were cared for. I had no pets. Besides Mom, the only other person who mattered to me was Tamara. I decided I'd drop Mom a postcard telling her I was alive and okay, but might not see her for a while. It was the best thing I could think to do. I had to make sure Tamara was safe someplace first. "Why are you being so nice to me?" Tamara said as she snuggled close to me on the bed. In the dark room with only the light of the TV shining off of her she looked radiant. I knew what I wanted to say. I knew I shouldn't say it. "I love you," I said quietly. Tamara hugged me very tightly to her and sobbed. "I love you too," she choked, "I've never felt this way about anybody, and I didn't think you could feel this way about me." She reached under the blanket and touched my cock –which was now hard – through my boxers. "No," I responded, "I want to hold you right now and feel you against me. Is that okay with you?" "That is the most romantic thing any man has ever said to me," she muffled into my chest, drying her eyes on my shirt. (Six weeks later) Tamara had gotten a job at a local strip club under the highly original name of 'Brandi'. I was allowed to hang around the bar at the club as long as I paid for my drinks and stayed out of the way. My anonymity lasted all of a week. Two patrons go in a fight over 'Brandi' and one guy looked pretty bad at the end of it. Tamara was freaking and told everyone in the place that I had medical experience. Seeing that my ship was sunk anyway, I checked the guy out, stitched him up, and recommended some painkillers. The cops never showed up and at the end of the night, the club owner pushed five hundred dollars into my hand and told me to hang around – my drinks would be free. Next thing I knew, I was the free clinic for the place. I was patching up drunk people who do stupid things, going to strippers' houses to check on their kids, or mothers, and helping the 'girls' with their little 'problems'. Did I mention I never wanted to be a gynecologist? Doing an exam is weird; doing an exam when the patient decides to spontaneously have sex with you? Not done when you are dating Tamara/ 'Brandi. Tamara was a good sport about it. We were keeping the same hours the sex was great and virtually non-stop. She could have made more money by doing some extra business on the side, but she stuck with pole and lap dancing. She was really good at it too. We'd squirreled away as much money as we had originally started out with. We began thinking about what would come next. Alaska kept coming up as a place to get a fresh start. The last afternoon we had some of the deepest, most passionate sex we'd ever had. She'd never been so hungry to please me except for the first time we'd been together. She sent me on to work telling me she had some things to take care of. When she didn't show up by midnight, I went looking. Everything of hers in the house had been cleared out. I searched everywhere, talked to every friend, went to every place she might have gone to but discovered nothing. I sat in that little house for two days, not eating or sleeping. On the third day I understood that I had done something wrong; it was over and I didn't even know why. I hopped an eighteen-wheeler and road two hundred miles down the road. I called Mom and she sent some people to get me. The authorities grilled me for a day. I described Tamara as a fifty year old black man named Tyrell. I told them I doubted he had a criminal record; that he'd always been nice, and he'd decided to let me go by the side of the road. I looked at a ton of mug shots. I gave Tamara as much a chance at freedom as I could. I told Mom everything and I could tell she was conflicted. She told me to pick back up my life as much as I could. Debra, my ex, wanted to hook back up and I didn't have the passion to fight her. I accepted the fact that I didn't deserve better. I went back to my practice and both patients and doctors noticed my bedside manner had greatly improved. I got on as best I could. Kidnap Me Please Ch. 02 *The very best casts a shadow on all that comes after* (Ten Months Later) Christmas was fast approaching when my doorbell rang. Debra, now my fiancée, told me to go get it because she was busy in the kitchen. I opened it up and on the door stoop was Tamara with a baby carrier. "Hi," she said. "Hey Tamara," I responded somewhat surprised. She hoisted the baby carrier to me. "This is Christopher Leo Styles," she told me. I looked down at my Son then back to Tamara. She was close to tears. We didn't say anything for the longest time. "I've tried to take care of him -- us but I can't. I don't want him to end up like me ... so ..." "Who is this?" Debra said in the same way she would tell me there was a stray dog in the yard. Tamara looked so bone-tired. "I need to be going. I needed to ... you know," Tamara told me. I shook my head. I'd already made one mistake. "This is Tamara Miller, my lover and mother of my son, Christopher Leo Styles," I said as I reached out a hand to Tamara. "What?" squawked Debra. "Who is this whore?" "She's a good woman, not a whore and I'd appreciate you keeping your opinions to yourself," I responded while never breaking my gaze on Tamara. She was not slipping away again. "What ... you, get the hell out of here!" Debra screamed at both of us. "Debra, this is my house. If you want to leave I won't stop you." I imagined Debra changed three shades of crimson. She was explosive that way. Debra screamed something unintelligible grabbed her coat and keys and shouldered past us. "You'll pay for this," she shouted over her shoulder. "I've finished paying for you Debra," I smiled. "Tamara, please come inside." "I shouldn't. I've caused you enough trouble." "Tamara, don't make me come out there and make you beat me up. Come inside. It's cold out here," I insisted. She reluctantly walked past me and came inside. I shut the door, took care with young Christopher and moves to the living room. Tamara looked around uncomfortably. "Nice place," she commented lamely. "She decorated it. I hate the look," I confessed. Tamara giggled. "I've missed you Tamara." Tamara looks down at her hands. "I've missed you too." She looked up to me and added, "I've not been with another man since you; I swear it." "He's my son, of that I have no doubt. He even looks like pictures of me when I was his age." She smiled at that visual and I could see a great weight lift from her shoulders. "I can be gone in the morning," she told me. "I was actually planning to marry you in the morning," I grinned. Tamara looked confused. "I can't be compelled to testify against you if you are my wife. That makes it safe for us to be together." "You can't do that," she worried. "You have a life and stuff." "I want you Tamara. You are part of my life. I can't be both Mother and Father. You have to stay." Tamara was clearly conflicted. "I've really missed you and I want you to stay with me as my wife. I can't make it any clearer than that." "You can't want me, Leo. You are rich and educated and I'm trash ..." she began. "NO!" I screamed at her in a way that brought her up short and made Christopher stir in his sleep. "Don't you dare sell yourself short to me ever again. I'll fight for you, but only if you fight for yourself and no Mother of my beautiful, wonderful Son is anything but beautiful and wonderful too." "I ..." "Tamara, see yourself as I see you. I love you and I let you go once before and I'm not going to repeat that mistake. Please don't make the mistake of trying to push me away." Tamara stood there for several seconds before running into my arms. "I'm a mistake, ya know?" she sobbed into my shoulder. "That's a mistake I'm willing to make again and again. Don't you ever leave, do you understand me?" I warned her. She nodded vigorously in response. "Now let us see what have for little Christopher to eat and then we can sit down to dinner ourselves." (Next morning) I put Tamara and Christopher in the guest room but I couldn't sleep, haunted by the thought that she would slip away in the night so I padded down to their room and slipped into bed with them. Christopher was between us. I shouldn't have worried because Tamara was totally exhausted and didn't stir until late in the morning. I figured out how to change and feed a baby on my own, with a little help from on-line sites. I had coffee ready when Tamara staggered sleepy-eyed into the kitchen. "Smells good," she murmured. I handed her a cup the way she liked it. She drank and smiled. "Thank you, Leo. How has Christopher been? I'm sorry I slept so long, but it has been more than a month since he's given me a good night sleep." I hugged her in response. "He was no problem, though he was stinky. Let's get everyone changed and head to the courthouse. I want you to make an honest man of me." "I named you as his Father when he was born. He'll always be your Son." "You'll always be his Mother and my Wife then," I declared. I could tell from her expression that she felt I was making a terribly mistake, but she seemed resigned to her fate. She kept that expression all the way downtown and as we waited in the short line. As we stood ready to take that last step, "Don't do this," Tamara pleaded. "I don't want to ruin your life. Give Christopher a chance. He doesn't need someone like me as a mother." "That proves he needs someone just like you as his Mother, and as a wife to me. You would give up your own happiness for us and what more can anyone expect as an act of Love?" She had no answer to that. With tears in her eyes, she declared me to be her legal spouse. Something changed in her then. She leaned into me and I felt a great tension and fear lift from her soul. She could finally stop running. Tamara finally had a home. When we got my --our - house, I called my Mother and told her I had a huge surprise that couldn't wait. She could smell the baby the moment she stepped into my house. She looked to me then followed the smell into the living room. Tamara stood there holding Christopher out like a shield with fear in her eyes. She had no parents of her own and clearly believed that my mother would hate her as the woman who had ruined her son. "This is Christopher Leo Styles," I announced. I'm not sure Mom heard me. She was already crossing the room arms outstretched. "Of course he is," she beamed. Looking at Tamara, she asked, "Can I hold him?" "Yes ...of course, he's your Grandson," Tamara stammered. My Mom swept up the child and rocked him slowly. Christopher looked up at her and smiled while Mom was totally enraptured. "How old is he?" Mom asked the room. "Two months," cringed Tamara. "Oh that's wonderful," Mom said without missing a beat. When she finally took her eyes off her only grandchild she smiled to Tamara and said, "I know who you are and I've seen the look he has in his eyes when he talks about you. I'm only glad that you came back to him after he let you get away that first time." "I don't know what to say," Tamara stammered yet again. "I thought you would hate me forever." "The people that hurt my son died over a year ago," Mom responded. "You brought my Son back to me. He's been a better man for having met you and now you've made him a father as well. So, can I call you Daughter, or would you prefer Tamara?" "I think I would like you to call me your Daughter," Tamara smiled carefully. "I think I'd like that a lot." "Christopher Leo Styles ... now that's a beautiful name. Is Christopher from your family?" "Nah, I liked the sound of it, is all. I think its musical." "Good choice," Mom grinned then turned her attention back to little Christopher. I walked around the two to wrap an arm around Tamara's waist. "Leo, did Tamara come with enough baggage?" Mom cooed to the infant while talking to me. Since Tamara only had one small travel bag I doubted it. I coughed uncomfortably. "Tamara, why don't we go out and let me buy you a few wedding gifts. I'd love get you a few dresses so I can show both you and Christopher off to all my friends at Church this Sunday. They'll love both of you I'm sure." "Mrs. Styles ..." "Call me Francis," Mom said, "or Mom if you like." "Francis ... Mom ... Thank you. I'd like that very much." "You two ladies have a blast," I smiled. "Chris and I will get to know each other. I swear he was trying to roll over this morning. Next thing you know he'll crawling." "Careful Tamara, this one will be getting our little boy a bicycle and football helmet for Christmas," Mom teased. Tamara didn't get it, but I knew she would. "Francis, I've never owned a dress," Tamara confessed. "That won't be a problem," Mom joked. "I think we can pick up all kinds of things for you and Christopher. We can even pick up a few things for Leo too." "What do you think he'd like?" Tamara asked. "Oh, I have an idea. If we have questions we can always ask the salesgirl." That comment made my head snap toward the closing door. Sometimes there are things that I guy's doesn't want to think about. Your Mother shopping for lingerie is one of them. I was pretty glad they were gone when Debra showed back up with one of her friends. Debra was a total bitch and her friend went ape-shit when she saw Christopher. I hope he doesn't remember all the names she called us. I finally told her that she could shut the hell up or I would kick her skanky ass out of MY house. I tried to talk to Debra about this, but she wanted to do nothing but bitch at me. She didn't want me to get a word in edge-wise. Hell, I admitted to being in the wrong. I said I would explain it to our friends. I promised to do whatever she wanted except abandon my wife and child. Debra didn't even pretend to have any empathy for me, which quite frankly was a relief -- she was tired of pretending she felt anything about me and I was tired of pretending not to notice she didn't care. All she kept harping about was that this made her look bad. As usual for our relationship it was all about Debra. Now that I had finally done something for myself she couldn't stand it. In the end I didn't care what she took as long as she was gone for good. I even helped her load the car I had bought for her as an early wedding gift. As she left Debra told me she'd cleared out all our join account. I gave a special prayer of thanks to my Mom for insisting that most of our financing, and all our credit cards being kept separate until we got married. If the final price for her leaving was the money in our wedding account, I counted myself lucky. They were gone by the time Tamara and Mom got back. Normally my Mom is an incredibly frugal woman, but something about having a daughter and grandchild clearly drove the woman insane. I spent ten minutes lugging in all the stuff she had gotten for them. As I laid out all the toys for my Kid who couldn't even move yet, I harkened back to the Christmas' where I could have two, and only two presents. When I brought this up, Mom patted me on the cheek and said 'I'm a Grandmother now', as if that somehow made up for twenty-seven years of neglect and hardship on my part. I would have been more upset if Tamara hadn't been running back and forth between the bathroom and bedroom showing me all kinds of 'safe' stuff for me to see. She promised I'd see more when Mom left. Normally I can physically take my Mother, no problem. I would rather have wrestled a grizzly bear than have tried and pry my Son away from her I soon discovered. It was well after dark, and past his bedtime, before I finally threw her out the door. When I got back to our bedroom I discovered I wasn't' the only one who remembered it was our wedding night. SWEET MOTHER OF GOD! I married a hot woman. Even the knowledge that my Mother picked out this stuff with her and that clearly Mom had some serious kink going on that I had (thankfully) known nothing about couldn't control my ardor. She's lying there in a sheer white lace half-bra which is fighting a battle in vain to keep her D-cleavage in check or hide the darkness of her areolas. The matching white panties were showing me that someone went to a spa today and got waxed. "I'm not too fat, am I?" she asked nervously. My drooling and lack of blood flow to the brain made me hesitate, which she misconstrued. "You think I'm fat," she said sadly. "Oh hell no!" Insisted, "You are the hottest, most sexual and sensual woman I've ever seen or even dreamed about. Honey, you've gotten even attractive and I didn't think that was possible." The smile made her whole face come to life and glow. "You really like it?" she whispered. In response I fell to my knees and clasped my hands in prayer. That display made her giggle. "May I touch you," I begged, "because I can't believe you are real?" That was clearly the right thing to say because she made a beckoning motion with her finger. I waddled forward on my knees which caused her giggle again. I crawled up on the bed with her and planted a slow, gentle kiss on her lips. I kissed her lower lip then worked my way down to her chin. Tamara murmured. Carefully as to not spook her, I placed one hand on her thigh and drew a line to her hip then back to her knee. By then I had nestled under her chin and was working my kisses down her neck and to her breastbone. "I love you," she breathed. "I love you too," I responded. "Do you want me to stop?" She shook her head. "No. I've missed you so much," she sighed. Now I think my face must off glowed because I felt some real shortness of breath. I leaned back and started hurriedly taking off my clothes. Tamara drank in my body as I stripped. It is a wonderful feeling for a man to have. I peeled off my underwear and I felt on fire for her. I never had any other woman do that for me. I came back across the bed to her and planted another kiss on her lips. I snuggled up against her. This time I put my hand on her waist and that startled her. I let her calm back down and look deep into my eyes before moving my hand around. For a few minutes all I did was make small stroking gestures up and down her side. It was sensual, not sexual. Except for cross back and forth over the panty line at her hip, I didn't do what most people would be consider overtly sexual. Where her hips swept into her waist was an erogenous zone for Tamara. She purred every time I stroked her. "I missed you so much," I whispered to her. "Let me show you how much." She smiled and nodded. I brought up my hand and slipped off one bra strap. I'd foolishly lost nearly a year away with this woman, but I wasn't going to rush her because of my raw hunger. I moved my hand along the top of the half-cup. She moaned and moved her face in until she was kissing and sucking on my neck. I teased the top of the bra and touched the top of her areola. She mumbled something. "What was that Love?" I murmured. "Move faster damn it," she moaned. Since I know that I'm in charge, I moved faster damn it. I reached around and unclasped her bra. At the same time I let out my own moan; the hickey she was working on was driving me crazy. Her bra came down and I slipped her breast out of the cup and broke Tamara's hold on me to take the nipple into my mouth. I rolled the nipple in my mouth and sucked on it. Boy was I surprised. "What the hell?" I sputtered. "Honey, what's wrong?" Tamara asked. "It tastes ..." "Leo, I'm making milk for Christopher," Tamara explained. "You're lactating ... I'm an idiot. Of course you are. You have a two month old child." I felt like slapping myself. "Does it taste bad to you?" worried Tamara. I had to think about that then I took another taste of her breast milk. I suckled for several seconds. I made eye contact and smiled. "I kind of like it," I grinned. I went back to the breast and she began stroking the back of my head. "Easy Baby, your Son needs some of that too," she teased me. I looked to her with a pleading look in my eyes. "Fine," she giggled, "you can have that one, but only that one." When your wife says you can only suckle at one nipple what do you say? You say THANK YOU! "Mmnkmoo," Tamara heard me said. "You're welcome," she sighed sensually. "I'm a little sore, so take it easy please." I immediately eased up and did more tongue twirling than sucking. She appreciated the gesture. I pulled back and snickered. "I tasted this before. I sampled the bottle before I gave it to Christopher. I was thinking he was a lucky guy. Now I know he is. How is this possible?" Tamara playfully smacked my head. "I thought you were a doctor," she grinned. "It's called a breast pump." I grinned back, and she read my mind. "No, you may not use it on me," she squawked. "It's a woman-thing." I bent over the pert nipple and gave it a quick kiss. "I'll be back for you," I promised the nipple -- my nipple. I returned to working the bra pealing it off the other breast, which I also gave a quick kiss to, and pressed it down to her elbow. She wiggled her body and I finished removing it. Tamara used my distraction of her two mammaries being unleashed to massage my cock. She gave it a playful tug. "I've missed you, my friend." I thought she was talking to my cock and I was right. "He's missed you too." "What about Debra?" Tamara asked softly. "We tried once soon after I got back," I confessed. "What happened?" She realized I was blushing so she put her hand underneath my chin and tilted my head up. "It's okay. You can tell me." "I ... I couldn't perform," I groaned. "Sorry, but she wasn't you and I just couldn't." She hugged me to her and kissed my forehead. "I'm glad you didn't," Tamara murmured. "Having met Debra I would think we are both happy nothing happened," I responded. There was this pregnant pause where I stroked a circle around her/my nipple. "Did I mention I much I've really, really missed you," she said in a husky, hungry voice. I pressed on her, pushing her onto her back and settled between her legs. I began ravaging her neck and shoulder with kisses. Tamara began bucking her crotch up against me and I ground back in return. I had almost forgotten how intoxicating her need could be. I was overtaken with a wild urge and ripped her panties off her in one violent yank. "Leo!" Tamara squealed, "Those were brand new!" "I'll help you pick out a new pair tomorrow," I grinned. "Hell, I'll sit back and let you try out the whole store." "They don't actually let you put them on in the store," she panted. "Fine," I snickered, "I'll buy everyone you like and you can try them on at home." Something I said brought her up short. "I'm home, aren't I?" she breathed up at me with those sensuous ice-blue eyes full of innocence. "Wherever I'm with you is home," I replied. That led to a new round of kissing. As I bent over her our old synergy came back. Tamara placed her arms up against me, not pushing me away but supporting my weight. I took that opportunity to slip my fingers inside her. She couldn't wiggle around well enough which only proved that pregnancy hadn't harmed her flexibility in the slightest. After so long felt myself slowly pressed her. I took a deep breath as my head entered her warmth. A noise disturbed my concentration. "What's that?" I panted. "The baby monitor," she informed dummy-me, "it's okay, that's him moving around in his sleep." I opted to move around inside my wife since I clearly have Christopher's approval. Tamara wrapped her arms around my shoulders and began kissing me again. I penetrated deeper into her until I reached that magical spot and she rebounded up against me. "Yes," she moaned, "like that ... even better than I remembered." I decided that there were no words to answer that so I began to piston in and out of her with more and more vigor. We rediscovered our rhythm like it had only been days not months. Her legs wrapped around me, heels on my ass driving me ever deeper into her. I was so totally into this. Kidnap Me Please Ch. 02 "Leo, I don't have any protection," she gasped between thrusts. That nearly killed it for me. "Do you have any condoms?" Clearly neither one of us had been thinking this through. "No. I never thought I'd need them," I nearly cried in agony. I was also being prematurely driven toward the edge. Stress will do that to you. "It is too soon for you to have another baby. I'll pull out." "Don't you dare," she insisted. Her thighs kept us locked together at the hips. "Pull out at the last minute and you can come on my stomach." All I could think about was how successful that method had worked in the past for all mankind. "I'll do my best," I gasped. Before long I called out, "I'm close," and I pulled out. Of course, my penis hung there throbbing but not shooting. We both stared at the offending organ for ten seconds or so. Tamara reached out and grabbed my cock with one hand and positioned and cupped her other hand over the head. She began pumping enthusiastically and I was back on track in very little time. When I shot, it went all over her hand, some leaking down her arm. "Are you done?" she asked. I nodded, still a little transfixed by the whole display. She brought the cum-filled hand up to her mouth and, while looking into my eyes, began licking it up like a cat going after the cream. I was dumbfounded I was so turned on. She finished up by licking down the length of her arm where some of my seed had escaped. Did I not say I have the best wife ever? Not to be outdone, I slithered down the bed until I was face to face with her pussy. "You don't have to," which was Tamara speak for 'please, please do'. I started out slowly, letting her recapture her pace sidetracked by my earlier departure. I pushed her thighs up so that her knees were half way to her breasts. She bent the legs at the knees so that the souls of her feet were perilously close to my head, but I didn't mind. I had one thing to focus me -- her already labored breathing. I had not forgotten how good she tasted, smooth and luxurious, not all that watery. I couldn't imagine anything sweeter tasting though her milk ran a close second. Her pronounced clit caught my eye, demanding my attention. I sucked and pulled on it, dove my tongue inward with a fucking motion, went down to the edge of her asshole then repeated the process. I really didn't care how long it took. I'd have done it until sunrise if our bodies had allowed, but Tamara didn't to wait that long. Her cry shook the windows of the house and startled Christopher. Tamara thrashed against me. I drank and drank because not only was she squirting from deep inside; her heels had locked my head in place so I had nowhere else to go. I was glad I loved this stuff so much because I had to drink a pint of it. Tamara was moaning and panting. "That was so fucking good," she managed to get out between breaths. "I told you I hadn't been with anyone else." "Mmbmemu" I mumbled. It seems my tongue was stuck some place that didn't allow much discernible conversation. "Huh ... Oh my God," she added when she realized what had happened. I came up gasping for air, half my face bathed in her juices. I also had the biggest grin. "I want to do it all again," I boasted. "Baby, I'm tired," Tamara pouted, "but if you take the midnight feeding, we can have sex again in the morning?" "Sure," I agreed. What's not to love about sex as the sun rises? I had fond memories of sunrise sex with Tamara. "Let's get cleaned up," Tamara smiled so warmly my heart wanted to break. I nodded and followed her to the bathroom. We got cleaned up with hot wash clothes and I caught her looking over my body in the mirror and smiling to herself. She made the 'mistake' of bumping her ass into my crotch, said 'whoops' and then wiggled it into her crack. It was like ten months ago all over again. I bent her over the vanity and we had sex for thirty minutes straight until we could barely stand and breathing had become an exercise in pain. We had to shower off all the sweat after that. I tried to towel her off, but she ran squealing back into the bedroom and dove under the covers. "Please," she begged, comforter pulled up so that only her eyes and the top of her head were visible, "I really do need some sleep. I want you, really, but I'm so tired." I slowly approached her and kissed her on the lips. "Anything for you Mrs. Tamara Styles." Her eyes sparkled when I said that. I went around to the other side of the bed and crawled into bed too. We kissed once more, cuddled and were both asleep in less than five minutes. Tamara woke up and nudged me. Then she pinched my nose and held my lips sealed. I woke up choking for air. "It's midnight," she groaned, "your turn to feed Christopher." She rolled over and was into shallow breathing before I even got out of bed. I was a Father now as well and I had better get used to it.