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Lost Girl: Julie's Story Ch. 01

By: beachbum1958



This story is connected to the 'Nia' series, all the main characters are here, but this is not part of the 'Nia' story thread, so it can be read either as a separate and complete story series in it's own right, or in conjunction with 'Nia' as a sort of 'stocking-filler', as it does cover some aspects of Jamie and Nia's earlier relationship, and will continue in parallel with the main thread up to the conclusion of both series. But this is Julie's story, not Nia's, so Jamie et al will only make fleeting appearances.

Much appreciation to Mriceman1964 for editing, proofing and commenting, as well as sanity-checking me on numerous occasions!

PS. If you liked it, please rate it, if you didn't, please tell me why!

BB1958

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When I was very young, my hero was my big brother. Mark was three years older than me, tall and handsome, and he scared away the boys who teased me or picked-on me, picked me up when I fell over, wiped my nose and dried my eyes and made it right when mum made me cry, even made my breakfast and pressed my little school pinafore because mum hadn't done it the night before. His big warm hand holding mine as he walked me to school, his quick ruffle of my hair as left me at the gate and watched until I went inside, even the way he'd call me cootie-magnet and tell me knock-knock jokes as he brushed and tried to braid my hair in the morning, these were the things that defined my childhood.

As I grew older, I began to notice that mum wasn't quite...right. I knew she took a lot of medicine, she'd have a bottle next to her most nights on the table by the couch, and she'd pour herself a glass and slowly drink it all, until eventually she'd fall asleep. Then Mark would sigh, and ask me what I wanted for dinner and he would open some tins, and make some toast, and we'd have eggs or beans on toast, something a nine year-old could cook. After dinner, Mark would make sure I had a clean towel so I could have a shower, wait for me to come out so he could dry my hair and put the wet towel on the dryer rail, and tuck me in bed, reading to me for a little while. My favourite book was 'Peter Pan', and Mark would always tell me that I was really Tinkerbell, I was a green-eyed golden fairy princess, that he was one of the Lost Boys, come to look after me, and that one day Peter would come and find me and take me back to Never-Never Land. 

When I was small, I'd wait to see if Peter came; every night I'd lie and watch the window, waiting for him to come looking for me, maybe he'd leave his shadow behind again and I could be the one to give it back to him this time, get my wings back so I could fly with him, second star to the right, and straight on 'til morning, or maybe I would find the home of all the other fairy princesses, perhaps in the castle east of the sun and west of the moon, where I would find a fairy prince for my very own. 

Mark kept me from knowing the truth about mum, and protected me for a long as possible from the reality of the family life we had. I never picked up on anything; Mark made sure my only worries were school, or whether Peter Pan would come and find me and take me home again, the facts about my mother were something a six year-old didn't need to know or understand. I thought we were a happy family; oh sure, mum was sometimes nasty, but she never hit me, or neglected me, she bought me the things I needed, and sometime things I had no possible use for, but we always had food, heat, comfort, warm clothes, and I had Mark. 

It wasn't until many years later that I realised, poor Mark had nobody to look after him, nobody to make it right for him, he was just a little boy himself, but he had to bring himself up, mum was always too 'sick'. No-one really cared for him, but he never stopped caring for me; in all the ways that mattered, Mark brought me up, and taught me everything I should know, and a few things I shouldn't, like where to stick a knee if a boy gave me too much grief, or how to slap someone in the fork hard enough to make their eyes cross, or how to belch the alphabet, useful stuff, but definitely not ladylike. I would still hear him in his room at night, though, crying, all his fear and loss and need catching up with him as he tried to be an adult when he hadn't had a chance to be a little boy yet. That woman, our so-called mother, robbed him of all it meant to be a child, made him her care-giver when he needed care the most. I would cry along with him, understanding then that he truly was a lost boy, that he'd lost the most important part of his life, and that no-one was coming to save him, there was no Peter Pan to sprinkle Fairy-Dust on him and take him to Never-Never land so he could be a boy again. Unlike Peter Pan, he had to grow up far too soon, long before he was ready, or even knew how.

Gradually, as the years progressed, my understanding of mum's 'sickness' gelled; she was an alcoholic, but a well-disguised one. To all outward appearances, she was Mrs. Jameson, Office Manager and model of businesslike efficiency, but once she came home, the thirst took over, and the drinking would begin, and then the sniping and nasty comments would soon follow; mum was not a happy drinker, and the more she drank, the more bitterness and anger spilled out of her, most of it aimed at me, until at last I would hide in my room, crying at the things she said and blamed me for. Then my hero, my big brother Mark would hold me tight, hug me while I cried in fright, trying to understand why mum hated me so much, why she couldn't just be like the happy mums my friends all had, who played with them, talked to them, cooked dinner for them, acted like a mother was supposed to act. 

From the time I was 11, she seemed to assume that she'd finished bringing me up (not that she'd ever actually done that; Mark was my real parent, not her), and so her bingeing began in earnest, and Mark tugging her passed-out frame into a prone position on the couch and throwing a quilt on top of her became a nightly occurrence.

One saving grace for me was my friends at school, and two in particular, Shelagh Kennedy and Nia Morrison; between them they kept me balanced enough to deal with the increasingly dysfunctional life I was living at home. Nia and Shelagh were warm, funny, achingly good looking, and all the boys flocked around them, with Shelagh lapping it up, while Nia, as beautiful as she was, kept them all at arm's-length; she only ever came alive when she mentioned her big brother, Jamie, and she mentioned him all the time. When I saw him, I understood why; he was tall and devastatingly cute, quiet, funny and patient, and obviously devoted to her, taking shit from her that Mark would certainly never have taken from me. He seemed to know instinctively when she'd had a trying day, and his hug when she sniffled at him always seemed to have an extra something that made it a special hug, one that only she could ever have. 

I saw the way her eyes followed him around, and the way his hand would automatically reach out for her if she looked like she was going to stumble, ready to catch her and keep her from harm, or carry her things, take her hand if she reached for him, his hand reaching out for her without him ever looking to see if she was reaching for him, they just knew when the other wanted that, almost like they were connected together inside their heads. Jamie obviously adored her, and I found myself wondering if Mark felt like that about me, or if he was just being kind because I had no-one else to be kind to me.

Shelagh, Nia and I were inseparable through our entire school life together, and I took to staying at Nia's house after school until I absolutely had to go home, if only to go to bed. Nia's mum fed me, hugged me, made me feel like I belonged somewhere, and her dad with his terrible jokes kept me relaxed and in one piece when I felt like the world was too grim for me to deal with. 

Nia, however, would pace around, a tetchy ball of nervous energy, until Jamie came in, somehow knowing 5 minutes before he walked in the door that he was on his way, then she'd relax, unwind, have a barbed remark to throw at him when he walked in. Poor Jamie always looked so hurt when she threw one of those at him, but that didn't stop her leaning against him when we watched TV after dinner, his arm draped around her without him even being aware he was holding her, and she hugging him around the waist, huddling as close to him as she could get; or the look almost of distress on her face if Jamie had to get up and leave the room, even if he were only leaving for a few seconds. 

It was obvious to me that Nia was connected to Jamie in ways that I could never understand, a closeness that I couldn't describe, but wished with all my heart I could have with Mark. When I had to leave, Jamie would walk me home, he was too much of a gentleman, even at 14, to let a girl walk home at night unaccompanied, wait until I went inside, then wave, turn and stroll home. When he did that, I always thought Nia was the luckiest girl in the world to have someone as lovely as Jamie to lean on.

Mark once asked me why I didn't ask him to come and get me.

"Jules, I'd come get you if you wanted, Nia's brother doesn't have to drop you home every night, and it's not like I'm busy, you know!" he grinned wistfully, referring to the fact that once mum had settled into the couch to drink, he was pretty much out of the picture as far as things to do, except to make himself some dinner. I felt guilty about eating with the Morrison's, while poor Mark was here alone with something out of the freezer or a tin for dinner, still looking after himself, still no-one caring for him. 

I felt another dull spike of hopeless anger at the woman who'd so abandoned him, left him out of her life to pursue her hobby, drinking herself senseless, and a welling-up of deep sorrow for him for the life we'd given him. He'd looked after me so well, and I hadn't ever given him back anything, now I was even denying him some companionship, leaving him even more lonely and isolated than ever; on impulse I hugged him, Mark looking surprised at the sudden affection, then he hugged me back, ruffling my hair. 

"Bedtime now, Jules, school in the morning, there's some bacon in the fridge, do you fancy bacon and eggs for breakfast? I'll do you some if you want..."

I went to bed, grieving again for poor Mark, only fourteen and the weight of the world on him still, a little sister who ignores him except when she needs him to care for her, then takes all he's got to give, and a mother who forgot about him years ago, no wonder he still cried in his room at night, when he thought I was asleep...

As time wore on, things began to change, for the better; at first, anyway. Mum seemed to have made some kind of decision about her drinking; maybe she'd seen the light...

Anyway, I began to get used to seeing her sober and upright for longer and longer periods, finding the laundry done, Mark in his room instead of in the kitchen trying to assemble me a proper meal out of a collection of tins, and hot meals at night and on weekends. 

Usually on weekends mum never made an appearance at all, she'd remain in her room, probably passed out, and Sunday lunch for Mark and I would be soup and French-fries, his poor face so sad because he didn't know how to cook a beef roast, or how to make a stew or casserole. Besides, we never had any fresh meat in the house; mum would go shopping and buy only frozen or tinned food, things she could dump in the pantry or the freezer; I'd forgotten what roast beef tasted like, it had been so long since I'd eaten it, and suddenly we'd be having roast beef with all the trimmings on Sundays. 

Mark began to change. He grew taller, for starters, almost by the day. His face changed as well, his softly rounded boyish features slowly turning into angles and planes, cheekbones becoming more defined, and he started shaving regularly. He still looked after me on occasion, though; periodically mum would go on a jag, and I'd come home from school to find her home, passed out on the couch, a half-bottle of vodka on the table next to her; if she'd climbed on the wagon, she clearly wasn't doing too much to stay there.

I changed as well, going through the expected changes as I moved out of my pre-teens and into adolescence, Mark bearing-up under my mood changes and temper tantrums, my changing moods a puzzle to me as well, until it was explained to us in Human Biology in school, things I should have learned from my mum, that all the other girls already knew, and I was appalled; it was going to be like this every month, 12 weeks a year, for the next 40 or so years? God really must be a man, there was no other explanation...

When I was 13, at an age where boys were of more than slight interest, the object of mine, and nearly every other girl in the school, was Jamie Morrison. He was the same age as Mark, and at 16, a real hottie. Nia was furious, and had several slanging matches with older girls who'd asked her for his number, as well as a few girls in our year who really should have known better. Nia went out of her way to make it abundantly clear that Jamie was strictly Off-Limits, Verboten, Ne Vous Approchez-pas, but we talked about him, of course, how could we not, he was sweetly gorgeous!

Shelagh even said something along the lines of "Well, I don't care what Nia thinks, Jamie's too cute to pass-up, one day I'm snagging him, and if I have to beat you lot off with a club to do it, I will, so hands off, he's mine!" 

Yep, until Nia finds out and hands you your ass, I thought...

One girl said something odd to me, though, which got me thinking.

"Look , it's no use talking about Jamie Morrison, Nia's obviously keeping him for herself, so do you have any objections if I call up your Mark, see if there's any chance of a date there?" leered Charlotte Pryce.

I was caught a little off-guard, and said "Why would you ask him?"

She looked at me like I was simple. "Because he's a babe, or hadn't you noticed?"

To be honest, I hadn't; Mark was Mark, the end. I'd never looked at him in that way before, why would I, he was my brother?

Charlotte spoke up again. "Look, Jules, Mark is dead cute, he's tall, he's blonde, he's got big, grey, sexy eyes, and if I had the chance, I'd hang off his face for a while, and so would most of the girls here. You're so lucky, your brother's drop-dead gorgeous; my twerp brother looks like a ferret in a hedge! Are you really telling me you never noticed him, or even thought about giving him a snog, just to see? No? Girl, there's no hope for you, the Nunnery beckons!"

I was more than a little intrigued. Mark? But then, when I looked at him in my mind's eye, without the 'big-brother' filter on, I could see she was right. His golden hair, always falling down over one eye, and that unconscious gesture of his when he flicked it back out of the way, big, clear grey eyes, fair skin, his straight nose and killer cheekbones, his square jaw and even, white teeth, and of course his lovely, shy, vulnerable smile. 

I had always thought, when I was a little girl, that my big brother was the bravest and handsomest of all the Lost Boys, but now I could see that Charlotte was right, he really was lovely, that air of deep sadness about him making him doubly attractive. 

I had to think about this; here I was, mentally ogling my big brother, the boy who used to read me to sleep and make me beans on toast, blow my nose and fix my cuts and bruises, and wondering what it would be like to snog him? I must be out of my mind! 

When I got home that afternoon, Mark hadn't arrived back from school yet, and mum was still at work, so I had the place to myself for a little while, giving me time to think. Charlotte had struck a chord with me, and I wanted to explore why I'd had such a weird feeling when I thought about Mark, and how the thought of kissing him suddenly seemed...not so odd. 

Mark chose then to come in from school, and I studied him with the new perspective I had been given by Charlotte, and she was right, he was a babe! My 16 year-old brother was just too cute!

Mark looked strangely at me. "You Ok, Tink?" he asked, grinning at me, "You're staring at me like I grew another head, something wrong?"

I blushed, and cast around for something to say, what actually popped out of my mouth was what was buzzing around in my head. "You're beautiful!" I blurted out, and then clapped my hand over my mouth, flushing scarlet as I realised what I'd just said.

Mark stared at me, his eyes wide in shocked amazement, and then he smiled that beautiful, slow, shy smile of his, the one that always, always made me want to hug him, ever since I was a very little girl. 

He came over to the couch and sat next to me, putting his arm around me, like he used to when I was little.

"No Tink, you're beautiful, you're Tinkerbell, our very own beautiful little golden fairy princess! Now, what do you want to eat? We have sausages, or I can put a pasty in the oven and make you some fries, would you like that?"

He hugged me once more, then rubbed my hair, and stood up, grinned at me, and went off to the kitchen, to start getting a meal ready for when mum got home.

When mum came in, something about her told me how this evening was going to go, and sure enough, she headed straight for the bureau, unlocked it and pulled out her trusty vodka bottle. I stood next to her and put my hand on her arm.

"Please mum, don't...please?" I asked her softly, she just sneered back and I smelled it on her breath; she'd already been drinking; now she was just topping-off.

I tried again.

"Please mum, just have something to eat with us, not this, please?"

She shook me off, and next thing I knew she hit me on the side of the face hard enough to knock me over. I sat there, stunned, my face feeling numb and hot at the same time, as she loomed over me, and then she started.

"You little bitch, it's all your fault, it was fine, everything was fine, and then you had to ruin it, you sent him away, he left me with you, why didn't you leave, I never wanted you, you little bitch, get out of my house, get out, GET OUT!!" 

Suddenly, Mark was there, pushing her back away from me, standing protectively over me, my eye starting to close and water as my face got hotter.

"Leave her, Mum, why don't you go to your room, lie down or something, I'll bring you something to eat later, OK?"

Mum smiled at him. "Yes, Mark, you're a good boy, you always were a good boy, he couldn't take you away from me, I think I'll go and lie down for a while, just a little bit...!"  

She turned and shuffled away, and Mark lifted me up, turning my head to look at my left eye, a look of shock on his face at what he saw. 

"Jesus, Tink, why did she have to...!" he muttered, hugging me as I trembled with shock and fear; fear of my own mother, that she'd do something like that to me; all I wanted was to bolt out the front door and keep running, I was too afraid to stay there a minute longer.

Mark came to a decision, grabbed my coat and hustled me out the door.

"M...Mark, where...?" I stammered.

"Nia's place, you can stay there tonight, you'll be safe there, I...I don't know what to do about your eye, Mrs. Morrison, she'll know..."

Muttering under his breath, he tugged me to Nia's place, Jamie opening the door and looking shocked at what he saw.

"MUM! Mum, need some help, now, quick!" he called out, Nia running and slamming to a halt when she saw my face.

"Mark, what happened, what the bloody hell did you...?" 

Mark cut her off. "Mum hit her, she was drinking, I didn't...!"

Nia's eyes blazed. "Look at her, Mark, your mother's so big and she's so tiny, LOOK AT HER!! Where the HELL were you?" she screamed at him.


Lost Girl: Julie's Story Ch. 01



I calmed her down while she hugged me protectively. "Nia, he wasn't in the room, mum just launched one at me, he couldn't have stopped her, it's not his fault, honest!"

Nia's mother came out and saw me, her eyes narrowing in anger, and her arm going around me as she took me into the sitting room. Jamie came back with a teacloth full of ice-cubes, twisted the ends together and gingerly held it to my face. It stung with the cold, but it dulled the pain, and stopped my eye watering.

Mrs. Morrison held me as she took the icepack and gently held it against my eye, but I could tell she was furious.

"Who do this to you, Julie, really?" she asked, and I told her what had happened.

"She hurt own daughter like this, you just little girl, she not deserve daughter, I find big stick, I teach her a lesson! You not hit children! You want to hit child, leave room, count to fifty, come back, still want to hit child, leave room, count to fifty again!"

I was feeling sick and dizzy now, and my eye was throbbing again, so Jamie picked me up and carried me up to Nia's room, putting me on her bed. He gave me the ice pack and gently, carefully, showed me how to hold it properly, then turned to leave, turning the light down as he went to walk out the door. 

"Thank you, Jamie!" I called out, and he looked surprised that I knew his name.

"It's quite alright, er, Julie. You just lie quiet here; I'm going to talk to your brother properly about this!" he was livid, ready to kill someone, and I called him back.

"Jamie, please, Mark had nothing to do with it, he was in the kitchen! When he heard, he came running in and pushed her away from me, he brought me here because he thought I'd be safe here, he'd never hurt me, I swear!"

Jamie looked mollified.

"Well OK, if you say so. You rest now; Nia'll be here when she's finished with your brother, so I think I'd better go rescue him!" He smiled and walked away back downstairs.

Nia came in a few minutes later, sat next to me and stroked my hair. I began to tremble, shock and reaction setting in, plus I still felt sick and dizzy

"Poor Jules, you must be really frightened! My mum's bloody furious, she wanted to call the Old Bill, have her arrested for assaulting you, Jamie talked her out of it, now she just wants to go to your house and wallop her with a big stick! Let's have a look at your eye!"

She pulled the makeshift icepack away from my eye and clenched her teeth as she hissed through them.

"Jesus wept! Will you look at that thing! What did she do, punch you? 'Cos you look like you just got a dig from Mike Tyson! What a bitch! I'll tell you one thing, you're not going to school looking like that, the first teacher who sees that is going to call the Old Bill, and you'll end up in care somewhere two hundred miles away!"

Just then there was a knock on the door, Nia called out to come in, and her dad came into the room.

"Hello Nugget, Hello Julie. My wife tells me you've had a bit of trouble today; do you feel like telling me about it?" He sat on the bed and gently lifted the icepack and looked at my eye, his lips compressing into a thin line and his nostrils flaring as anger flared in his eyes at what he saw.

There's something very comforting about Nia's dad, so I told him what happened, and he nodded slowly as I spoke. When I finished he looked at me and patted my hand. 

"I really should report this; I want to, this is a criminal assault against a minor, and the police should be dealing with her, now, but if I do that, it will probably put you and your brother into the care system, and I don't think you want that; I know Nia and her mother don't. I know you're feeling sick at the moment, that's most likely a concussion, and you really need to see a doctor. I'll take you, and Nia, along to St. George's A & E, report that as a head-clash playing volleyball, and get you scanned, just to be on the safe side. I really don't like doing this, she should be made to pay for this, but I like the alternative even less, so this is how we'll do it this time. If it happens again, though, if she hurts you or hits you again, I'm going to the police; you're too small to take another blow like this, she could have killed you! I want you to stay here tonight, with Nia, so does everyone else, after that we'll see how it goes. At least you'll be safe here."  

I tried to thank him, but the fright, and the pain got there first, and I started crying. 

He gathered me in immediately, letting me cry into his shoulder while he held me close, smoothed my hair, soothed me, making it all go away. Nia's dad is a class act, she's a lucky girl. 

I must have fallen asleep against his shoulder, because the next thing I remember is being carried to the car and sitting on Mark's lap in the back seat, and Mr. Morrison going over the story, that I'd been playing volleyball in Brockwell Park, there was a head-clash, I came back home with Nia and started feeling sick, so he brought me to Accident & Emergency.

I was in Casualty for about 2 hours; Nia stayed with me in the examination cubicle for about an hour, then they wheeled me off for an MRI, and another hour while the imaging people got the scan results processed, and the attending came and spoke with Mark, as my next of kin. Apparently, there was no tearing or blood vessel damage, it was a straightforward concussion, but there was a crack in my cheekbone, so they gave me some painkillers and told me to get a few days' bed rest. By this time my eye was doing an impression of a Picasso sunset painted on a balloon, swollen up and out, all purples and bright reds, with black for added effect. To say I looked grotesque would not be overstating it.

On the way back, Nia told her dad that I would be staying with her for a few days, that I couldn't go to school looking like that, and he just nodded, and that was settled. I ended up staying a week, Mark letting the school know I was 'ill', and coming to see me every afternoon after school, and I spent the days doing girly things with Nia's mum, discovering how it should be between a mother and daughter, something I never got to do at home, simple, banal things, like brushing my long hair properly, something Mark never managed to do right, and he never had the time to do it right anyway. 

Mark told me that mum had gone back to being daily drunk, she'd not asked about me, and I was glad that I was off her radar. One thing that puzzled me, what she'd meant when she said that I'd made him leave. Who was she talking about? I asked Mark for an explanation.

He looked baffled. "Look, Jules, I don't know for sure, but I think she was talking about dad. What she meant, though, search me. He left before you were born, and I don't remember him except he had hair the same colour as yours, I was only three or so; that's all, sorry."

I had to go home sometime, and much as I wanted to stay forever with Nia and her lovely family, I had to face my own personal demon. Mark collected me, carried all the stuff he'd brought for me over the last few days, and I reluctantly said goodbye to Nia and her mum. Mrs. Morrison asked me to stay.

"You stay with Nia, she needs someone here, Huyn'h never here, she lonely and you safe here, I promise, no one punch your face or hurt you here!" 

She was still mad as hell, still wanted to lay into mum with something heavy, but I needed to go home, get this over with. Besides, Nia was in denial over Jamie's latest girlfriend, whom she hadn't met, (because Jamie very wisely kept her well away from the house) but already hated with a passion, and kept trying to get me to pump him for information about her, so I wanted to get out from the middle of that.

Mrs. Morrison hugged me. "Ok, if you really want go, cannot stop you, but you need family, you welcome to join mine!" 

Nia's dad was just as sweet.

"You know, Julie, you're welcome to stay as long as you want, and I do mean that; two kids here is already bedlam, one more isn't going to make a difference; bedlam is bedlam!"

I thanked him for his kindness, but told him I really had to go.

"Well, Ok, but if you need to run, run back here, we're always open for business!" he grinned. Like I said; a class act.

When I got home, mum was already there, making dinner, straight and sober, and flicked a glance over me like I'd never been gone. There was no mention of her assaulting me, no hint that she acknowledged my black eye as something she'd done, or any hint of an apology; it was like she'd denied to herself it had happened, and decided to believe that version.

Dinner was...odd. Mum directed all her remarks to Mark, spoke exclusively to him, lavished attention on him, served me food as though I was invisible, gave me seconds without asking me if I wanted any, but danced attendance on Mark. I could see he was uncomfortable with the attention, he definitely wasn't used to it, and his ears were pink by the end of the meal.

When we cleared up, mum hung around while Mark and I cleared the leftovers and loaded the dishwasher, still directing all her conversational efforts exclusively to him, which didn't bother me; I was used to her ignoring me until she'd had a skinful, but Mark was clearly uncomfortable with it; affection or attention from her had been in short supply for years, and he was having a problem reconciling it with the woman who'd punched me out a few days earlier.

Mum kept it up, until eventually Mark started responding. I didn't blame him, God knows, it was time she paid some attention to him, and he needed someone, even if it was her; it didn't trouble me; I had Nia and her family as a bolt-hole if I needed it, so we eventually came to an unspoken agreement about how our family worked; Mark was hers, Nia's mum was mine, and we went on from there, mum ignoring me, still drinking, and Mark still watching her carefully if she was alone with me for any reason.

As I got older, Mark became more involved with me; I was maturing, and he finally felt he could talk to me, instead of just look after me, and our relationship became more adult for it; he'd talk about his latest girlfriend, ask me if I was dating or not (usually not), tell me I was pretty and that I should go out more, meet someone, instead of just hanging in my room and avoiding mum, or joke and banter with me, sit with me when mum wasn't around, and play-fight with me, always winning because he outweighed me by a significant margin, but never getting rough. He still called me 'Tink', and told me I was a fairy princess, though, I never got rid of that tag...

What I did start to feel, though, was a distinct attraction to him, something I pushed down and suppressed; this was my brother, for God's sake! It never quite went away though...

When I was in my room, I'd hear him talking, laughing and bantering with mum and, I'll admit, I felt a certain amount of envy, no jealousy, that he could be so happy with her, so natural, while I still didn't really exist, but also that she'd suddenly decided to take him away from me, overwhelm him with all this care and attention.

He, of course, lapped it up; it had been missing from his life for so long that he was revelling in it, and I didn't blame him one little bit; I just wished I could have had some too...

When I was sixteen, the Morrison's held a birthday party for Nia and I, as we were only a week apart, and I for sure wasn't going to get one at home, and I was struck again by how much was really wrong with our family, but I also knew that we were unfixable now, and that as soon as I could, I'd go, get out of there and find a life somewhere else, because the travesty we had was a slow-burning fuse, and one day it would blow apart again, and I'd likely be back in the A & E. Mum had seen Mark and I interacting a few times, and she'd expressed to him several times that he should talk to me about leaving soon, that I should go because I had no place there once I'd finished school. This worried Mark, he could see the resentment building again, and tried to defuse it, but I really had nowhere to go, no relatives that I knew of, and Nia's family was a refuge, not a living option.

I finished school six months after my sixteenth birthday, right after taking my GCSE examinations, and, to my surprise, found a job with a small fashion wholesaler in Bloomsbury, as a Trainee Buyer. As luck would have it, Mark worked just around the corner from my office, so he'd come and have lunch with me, wait for me and come home together with me, and generally became more like a best friend than a big brother. Some of the other girls, and women, in the office were intrigued by the mysterious tall blonde looker taking me to lunch all the time, and tried to find out more about him. Something perverse in me made me tell them that we lived together, while somehow completely omitting the fact that he was my big brother!

As time wore on, I became almost obsessed with Mark; I would spend my unoccupied time daydreaming about him, images of his smile, his lovely eyes, that characteristic head flick he'd give to clear the fringe of hair out of his eyes, especially since one of the girls in the office had seen him do it and declared it was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen... 

I was confused as to why I kept thinking about him, but I was also aware that Charlotte Pryce's question was now whispering at me again: "Are you really telling me you never noticed him, or even thought about giving him a snog, just to see?"

At night, I'd dream turgid, overblown, romantic dreams about him, all cinematic and cutesy, and wake up to ask myself, "What the hell are you doing, he's your brother, got it? Get a grip!"

Eventually, I ended-up admitting to myself that the thing I'd been telling myself for months was a fact; I fancied him, and I seriously wanted a taste. It had only taken two years, two years of meeting him for lunch, laughing over coffees in the office, passing him off as someone I lived with and hinting that our relationship was something other than what it really was, before I could admit to myself what I wanted, now I had to try and see if there really could be something there, or if it was just an eighteen year-old's fevered fantasy, and he'd just give me the brush-off. I had to admit there was a big chance he'd do just that; he was nearly three years older than me, 21 now, a grown man, really, not a teenage boy anymore, and his type was more Nia than me; tall, willowy, brunette, gorgeous eyes, exotic. He'd even made a tentative pass at her once, and got the brush-off in no uncertain manner; there was only one type for Nia, and Jamie was it. 

He'd be having lunch with me today, I'd see then whether I could make this happen, or if this was never going to be.

He stopped by at 12:30, popping his head into my little hutch of an office, winked at me and said

"Come on Tink, I'm hungry, fancy Chinese? I found a new place, cheap but good. Come on Shortie, time's a-wastin'!"

I grabbed my coat, and slid my arm through his as he piloted me out of the office, past more than one set of fluttering eyelashes, my ego soaring as I thought, 'This babe's with me, Ha!'

We had a good lunch, Mark telling me of the antics of the other trainees in the brokerage house he worked at, training to be a Securities Trader. I was still laughing when he walked me back into my office, again past all the fluttering eyelashes, and, as I turned to go into my own little office, I turned to him, hugged him, and as he looked at me, I planted a big kiss right on his parted lips, licking his tongue for good measure as I slid my hand round the back of his head to hold him against me. What he did next would dictate my next move; what I didn't expect was for him to pull me closer, and kiss me back, sliding his tongue against mine as he kissed me tenderly but firmly, his hand sliding inside my coat and cupping my bum, gently squeezing the cheek as his tongue worked against mine. My heart was hammering when he finally let me go.

"If you only knew how long I've been waiting to do that!" he whispered, then pulled me close for another, shorter, but no less heartfelt kiss, before letting go of me, leaving me slightly glassy-eyed.

"See you tonight, same time, and I want another of those!" he murmured, before walking off, all the girls in the office staring at him lustfully.

I stumbled back into my office, threw off my coat, and flopped down into my chair, head spinning, my mind full of that kiss, his eyes, and the feel of his lips against mine.

I looked up to see a whole row of heads peering in my door, varying expressions of awe and envy on their faces.

Doreen, the youngest of the Junior Buyers spoke up first.

"Wow, Jules! That was the most porno kiss I have ever seen! You been keeping him on short rations, or something? 'Cos it looks like the famine's over!"

The other girls giggled.

Another one spoke up.

"If my man kissed me like that, you'd have to change my name to Bow-Legged Sally! That was so fucking HOT!"

I was blushing scarlet, but it was true, it was so fucking hot!

Doreen spoke up again.

"So, Jules, should we expect you in tomorrow, then, or will you be ahem 'not feeling too well'?" she asked, innocently, eyes dancing.

I had to grin. "I'll be in, but if you're looking for a blow-by-blow, forget it!"

Doreen grinned. "So there will be blowing then, oooh, who's gonna be a lucky, lucky boy then!"

I burst out laughing. "Out you lot, haven't you got men of your own to molest?"

Back came Doreen, quick as a flash. "Not like that, I haven't, you lucky, jammy cow!"

I laughed again. "Out!"

I spent the rest of the day in a haze of arousal, unable to concentrate on my work as the memory of his hands on me as his lips were on mine kept intruding and distracting me. The clock hands slowly crept around, each minute seemed a thousand years long, and every time I looked out of my office, a whole row of interested heads popped up, every single one of them knowing or guessing what I was going through. 

Eventually I managed to find something absorbing enough to keep me focussed, and it was only the sound of people stirring around in the main office that distracted me enough to check the time. 5:30, time for him to appear, and sure enough, he peeked through the main door, and immediately a chorus of calls rose from the girls.

"Oh, yoo-hoo, Jules, someone here for you!" they all called and hooted, making me blush scarlet, and I grabbed my coat and purse, tried to hustle Mark out of there, but he insisted on kissing me, another long, deep, toe-curlingly hot kiss, the noise in the office dying down as they all stared hungrily at him.

When I came up for air, someone started clapping, and then they all did, and hooting, and someone (Doreen, probably!) going 'whoo-whoo-whoo'. I didn't know where to put my face, flushing scarlet as I tugged him out of there.

We were silent all the way home, although he held my hand instead of just letting me hold his arm, and his finger toyed with my hair on the train, and when we got off the train at Clapham Junction, he put his arm around me and held me close while we waited for the bus.

When we got in, mum was nowhere to be seen, but her stuff was lying around, and the bureau was unlocked. Mark grimaced at me and knocked on her door, receiving no answer. He cracked the door open and peered inside, then closed the door.

"She's out, and there's an empty Stolichnaya bottle on the cabinet, so she'll be out 'til morning. Can we talk?"

Oh yeah, I wanted to talk, but then I wanted to kiss him again, and then... 

"Sure," I said, "but not here, my room, she never goes in there." He nodded agreement, and led me to my room. Once in, I carefully closed the door, and propped a chair under the knob, just in case.

Mark sat on my bed, and raked his hand through his hair, that smile of his melting me, as usual, and I sat next to him, grinning at him, unsure what to do next.




Lost Girl: Julie's Story Ch. 01



He solved that for me by lifting me onto his lap, and kissing me again, like he had earlier, long, deep and soulfully, making all sorts of things happen inside me, all of them good!

I moved to sit astride him, linking my hands behind his neck so I could kiss and nibble at him properly, his hands roaming over my back, my bottom, and sliding around to cup and squeeze my breasts, his fingers on my nipples exciting me, even through the material of my blouse and my bra. 

I wriggled on his lap, feeling him beneath me, and Mark sighed into my mouth, pulled away to smile, smoothing my long hair as his hands roamed over me. 

"That was nice, do that again, Tink, it felt really good!"

I wriggled and slid on him a little more, definitely feeling something beneath me, and Mark began kissing me harder, wrapping his arms around me to pull me tight against him, his hands going to the cheeks of my bum, squeezing and pulling them apart gently, a very hot sensation, the first time anyone had ever done that to me.

I could feel his cock ridged-up under his trousers, and me sliding up and down on it was making it even harder; it felt like a length of pipe, it was so hard and straight, and Mark was obviously enjoying what I was doing, because he was helping me slide back and forth, which coincidentally felt exquisite on my pussy too! 

Mark pushed me upright and off him, to stand me in front of him, his hands on my hips, and as he leaned forward to kiss me, I felt him fumble with the button of my jeans. I helped him, and he unzipped me and tugged my jeans down, me stepping out of them and leaving me standing in my underwear and blouse. Mark began unbuttoning my blouse, and I reached for his shirt, undoing his buttons as he undid mine. I gasped when I saw his bare chest; I can't remember the last time I saw him without a shirt on, but it must have been years ago, now I saw a rippling, lean, muscular torso, every muscle outlined and perfectly proportioned. It wasn't a body builder's physique, but neither was he a stripling, he was...buff, the only word I could think of. 

He stood up and pulled my blouse off, and I reached behind to undo my bra, but he stopped me. 

"Let me, Tink!" he smiled, turning me to unclip it and pull it away from me. His hands slid around my ribcage and up, to cup my not exactly excessive 32B boobs, his fingertips caressing my nipples, making them feel like they were on fire as he teased them into hard rubbery points, the sensations from my nipples flashing around my body and making me feel weak at the knees. He dipped his head down and began kissing and lightly nibbling my neck with his lips, pulling me against him as he continued to squeeze and caress my breasts. I was in heaven, the man of my dreams, literally, was stripping and touching me, making me feel out of this world.

He slipped his hands down from my breasts, slipping one hand into the front of my panties, his fingers curling around my bare pussy as he lightly touched and caressed my lips, feeling my wetness from my earlier rubbing and gyrating against him.

"You waxed, Tink, I would never have guessed, God, that's so hot!" he murmured in my ear as his finger slipped inside me, making me gasp and quiver, then slowly rubbing inside me, feeling me, gently rubbing my little button, then sliding up and down the length of my slit, feeling absolutely wonderful, making me hot and bothered.

Mark slowly pulled his hand out of my panties, and slid them down, squeezing my cheeks as he pushed my panties all the way down, and I stepped out of them, completely naked now. I turned to him, and he kissed me again, while I started undoing his belt and fumbling with the button on his trousers. He gently stopped me, and undid them himself, letting his trousers drop to the ground so he stood in just his shorts, a really impressive bulge in the front of them. 

Now it was my turn, and I held and squeezed his cock, feeling the warmth of his penis even through the material of his shorts, and as I kissed him, I slid my hand inside his waistband, taking hold of him and squeezing, before sliding further down to cup and gently squeeze his balls, feeling the heat from his body. I pulled my hand out and hooked the waistband, pushing his shorts down, gasping as his cock popped out, impressed at the size of his equipment. His cock was almost eight inches long, and thick enough that I couldn't get my hand around it properly. It looked beautiful, and I stared at it in awe; I only knew one thing; one way or another, I was going to have that, if it killed me!

Mark pulled me close and kissed me again, his cock trapped between us, and I could feel it against my belly, throbbing with his pulse, like a warm bar of flesh, solid, thick, and very enticing! My pussy was seeping lubrication now, and I knew I wanted him, now; I wanted this beautiful brother of mine to have me, no feelings of right or wrong distracting me from the reality before me; it was Mark I wanted, and no-one else.

I took his hand and tugged him towards the bed, climbing on and moving over to make room for him. He settled beside me, and gently pulled me closer, to kiss and touch me, run his soft hands all over me, kiss, lick and nibble me everywhere. He pulled me up to him so he could lick and suck my nipples, a thrilling and novel sensation for me; no one had ever done that to me before; actually, no-one had ever done much of anything to me, I had always held back, not wanting to go that one step further, feeling that there was more to be had than just meaningless sex, so other than a few rushed hand-jobs, and a few groping sessions, nothing that could be even hinted at as a sex life; at least, up 'til now, that is! Now I knew why; I had always known, somehow, that I was holding back, saving myself for the right one, for Mark, my sweet, sad, lovely brother. 

I wanted to feel him, hold that lovely cock of his, make him feel good, make up for so many years of sadness and loneliness, for not being there when he'd needed someone, anyone, so I took him in my hand and pumped him, squeezing rhythmically as I pumped, kissing and nibbling his lips, licking his tongue, feeling the pulse throbbing in that beautiful cock as I masturbated it for him. I was tempted to taste him, something else I had never done before, but this was the one I wanted to do it with, and so I broke our kiss to slide down until my head was level with his groin, smelling him now, the smell of his cock fresh and manly, his whole scent strong, but clean and fresh and wholesome. I licked cautiously at the end of his glossy cock, discovering where the scent was coming from, the taste as enticing as the scent, and slid my lips over the purple glossy head, licking and sucking like I'd seen in porn films on Shelagh's laptop; now there was a girl with zero inhibitions! 

I pulled back for a second. "Mark, you will tell me if I'm doing this right?" I asked him, "I've never done this before, baby, I want it to be perfect for you!"

"You're doing just fine, princess, don't worry!" he grinned, and sighed as I took as much of him in as I could, but it was making my jaw ache; he was obviously enjoying it, and I wanted him to have everything I could give him, so I kept going. I felt his hand caressing my pussy , and shuffled my legs wider for him, his finger slipping in to dip in and out and rub my clit, making waves flood through me, making me suck and lick faster at him, my head bobbing now as I had seen it done in video's, suctioning him as hard as I could. Suddenly, I felt his cockhead swell as he gave a deep groan.

"I'm close, babe, oh God...!" he gasped, and I sucked harder, wanting to give him this, and as I sucked as hard as I could, a jet of spunk shot out to hit the back of my throat. I tried not to gag, but it was hard work, he was filling my mouth with spurt after spurt, faster than I could swallow, but I did eventually swallow it all, not at all revolted by the thick, creamy mouthful I'd received. The jets stopped, giving me time to taste him properly for the first time, the slightly salty, sweetish, tangy flavour like nothing I'd ever tasted before, but I decided I liked it, and I was already looking forward to doing this again with him.

Mark held out his hand to me, and I moved back to lie next to him. He looked deeply into my eyes.

"That was fabulous Julie! God, I've wanted you for so long, I always fantasised we could be together like this, I just never allowed myself to hope for it, it seemed impossible, wrong, something that could never happen; I'm so glad it did, I love you so much! You were always my dream princess, now you really are mine!"

I was almost crying with happiness at hearing him say these things, words out of my fantasies and dreams, the man I wanted, telling me he wanted me! I found that almost unbelievable, an impossibility, and yet it was true! I had to ask him one thing, though.

"Mark, all those tall, leggy brunettes you went out with, I thought they were your type, why would you suddenly go for a five foot 4 inch blonde like me?"

He grinned, kissed me lightly, and smiled again. 

"I always wanted you; I just never thought I could have you, so I went out with girls who looked as little like you as possible, so I wouldn't be reminded of what was never going to happen. It never worked out, though; I'd be in bed with one of them, and she'd say something the way you'd say it, and suddenly I'd be reminded that it was you I wanted, and that she wasn't you, and that I wasn't even fooling myself, it was you I wanted to be there in bed with me, not her." 

Now I wanted him even more, and I wanted to give him something more, something of me for him only, and so I took hold of his still-erect cock, pumping it a couple of times, kissing him as I did so, letting him know I was his for the taking. 

Mark moved between my legs, kissing and sucking my nipples, the wonderful sensations almost painful in their intensity, until he looked into my eyes, and reared up over me, his cock pointing at my pussy, and slowly, gently pushed himself into me

Pain! Ripping, howling pain! I never thought it would be like this, as he tried to slide that big cock into my tiny little slit, I never thought anything could hurt so much. He saw the look on my face, stopped when he put a finger to my lip and pulled it away bloody, where I'd bitten my lip in my pain, concern and compassion on his face as he began to withdraw from me.

"No...No...don't...keep...going...!" I panted, "want...this...you...tonight...!" I managed to gasp out, and poor Mark, because I wanted this, even though he knew how much it was hurting me, slooowwly pushed himself into me, until, at last, he was in all the way. 

He stopped, letting me pant and blow, steeling myself for what was coming next. 

At last, I felt ready for him, and he slowly withdrew, not so painful this time, and when he slid back in it wasn't even half as uncomfortable as that first stretching invasion.

He raised himself up on his elbows, and kissed me gently, his tongue circling inside my mouth as he began to pump slowly. The pain dissipated, pleasure replacing it, my legs coming up to wrap around his thighs, my arms around his neck, pushing myself against him as he kissed me wildly now, my kisses no less wild, my pelvis pushing back at him as fast as he pumped into me, and the sensation of that wonderful cock driving into me was out of this world.

My climax almost caught me by surprise; waves of pleasure that swelled and surged and roared over me, leaving me gasping for breath, and again, and again, my pussy tightening as each wave pounded into me, and the pressure of my vaginal walls on his cock as I clamped down made him come, his hot spunk bulleting into me, splashing my cervix, causing another wave to wash over me, my inner muscles clasping him tight and making him groan as my convulsing pussy milked his cock, more jets of spunk pumping into me, until he had no more, and my climax faded and passed, letting me slump back on the bed, completely drained.

Mark slipped his softening cock from me and slumped down next to me, his chest heaving and his eyes closed as his breathing gradually slowed.

At last he opened his eyes and smiled at me.

"God, I love you, Tink!" he smiled, and pulled me over to him, holding me close as he kissed my nose, my chin, my ear, my neck, before kissing me long and deeply on the lips, our tongues fencing and darting. 

Eventually we had to break for air, and I couldn't help but admire his beautiful profile, his even, handsome features, and reflect on just how lucky I was that a man like this wanted me.

Mark looked at me closely, smiling. "Penny for your thoughts, Tink!" he asked.

I looked at him with all the love I had for him.

"I was just thinking that I'm so glad you were my first; that the first time was so good, and it was with you!"

He sat up, horror in his eyes. 

"Oh God, Tink, I didn't know, I'm so sorry, how could I have been so...Oh my God, I never even asked, I just assumed...!"

I smiled. "Assumed what, that I'd done the dirty before? I always hoped it would be you; I kind of saved myself until I could have you, and it worked, I got my wish! Of all the people on the planet, the only one I wanted to give myself to, for the first time, was you!"

He was still looking aghast. "But I came inside...!"

I put his mind at rest. 

"Don't worry, I'm protected, Nia's mum took me to the doctor when she took Nia, said we both needed to be adult about these things, and we'd never know what might happen, that we should be safe, not sorry!" 

He looked relieved and slightly sheepish as he slid back down next to me, pulling me closer for another gentle, tender, sizzling kiss, my nipples tingling as they erected again. His hand explored me, gently rubbing and tweaking my burning nipples, then slipping around my waist to pull me on top of him as he rolled onto his back, his hands sliding down to cup and squeeze my bum-cheeks, moulding and pulling them apart as I kissed and nuzzled him. I could feel him nudging me, and my hand found his cock, rapidly stiffening as it lay along his belly, and I knew I wanted him again, I wanted to feel that pole of hard flesh pounding me again. 

Mark pulled my bum cheeks open, and slid me down gently, his cock just barely resting in the opening of my swollen vulva, and I pushed myself further back, taking him in again, almost fainting with the feeling of him sliding deep into me in one movement, the rush as he filled me up almost making me come there and then.

I shuddered with the sensation, the feel of his wiry pubic hair rubbing against the apex of my slit, my clit pulsing as I rubbed and ground myself against him, Mark helping me by holding my bum cheeks and pushing me up and down slightly against him, helping me grind even harder, and all the time, that fabulous cock throbbing and pulsing inside me.

I came in minutes, my whole body wracked with waves of such pleasure I thought my heart would burst, and I gasped and gritted my teeth as I rode them out, Mark holding me tight against him as I quivered and shuddered flat against him.

As I went limp on top of him, he rolled over to put me under him, his hands still clasping my buttocks, and fastened his lips to mine, kissing me crazily as he pulled me up against him by my ass, getting his knees under him, and began to hammer that big cock of his into me.

I was coming almost continually now, my whole world a blurred impression of his body on mine, his lips kissing and nibbling my neck, and the incredible feeling of being jack-hammered as he rammed into me continually, all sense of time or place gone, only the feel of him moving against me, and the relentless reaming I was receiving existed in my world.

He let go of me to lean up over me, groaning "God, Julie, I'm ...Oh...Oh God!" his cock swelling as he sprayed what felt like a pint of spunk into me, setting off another orgasm in me, my own cry of release mingling with his groan of fulfilment, my battered pussy clamping down on him as he sprayed into me again, his body's heat mingling with mine as he jetted deep into me, and again, and again, until he had no more.

His straining body finally relaxed and he slipped from me, making me orgasm again as his half-hard length rubbed out of me, dropping down next to me on the bed and gently caressing my nipples, my lips, rolling me towards him so he could hold and squeeze my behind, massaging my ass cheeks as he probed into the cleft between them.

He pulled me closer, his hands roaming over me, kissing and nibbling me, still not done with me, and I was enthralled, and heated-up, by his need for me, his relentless need to explore and pillage me.

"All I wanted for so long was to make love to my little princess, make you mine, then fuck you senseless, jam my cock in you over and over again and fill you up with my spunk! You make me so hot, Jules, you make me want to fuck you like a rag doll, eat you 'til you scream, then shove my cock in all your holes, fill your arse with my spunk, and shove my cock down your throat!" he murmured in my ear, his words making my pussy twitch and my nipples burn with need for him. I fondled his rapidly erecting cock, wondering as it flexed and firmed-up again in my hands, stretching and hardening, until it stood out again, stiff and solid, and ready for me.

Mark pulled me to him, kissing me hard and deeply while my hands massaged and squeezed his scrotum, and rubbed the tip of his magnificent cock, rolling the bead of lubricant oozing from the end onto the surrounding tissue, lubing him ready for me.

"Oh God, yes, again, please!" I groaned as he moved between my wide-spread thighs, and slid himself into me in one long thrust, filling me in an instant, and began that hard, insistent battering, thrusting himself into me as hard and as deep as he could, while I wrapped my legs around him and humped madly, my pussy on fire with the heat of my brother's fabulous cock. I came almost immediately, the erotic heat of our lovemaking, my need for this beautiful man, his obvious need for me, and the sensations churning in me as he rammed and thrust building into an orgasm of epic proportions, blasting through me like dragon's breath, consuming me with the heat and the intensity of it. I clamped down on him in the intensity of my climax, and he growled like an animal and jammed his cock deep into me, spunk pumping into me in a boiling hot flood as he came in a stream of hot man-fluid, drenching my insides and satisfying me at last. 

He slumped down beside me, chest heaving, hands reaching for me, to hold me close, hands gentle and comforting now, no more urgency. We hugged and caressed until we got our breath back, and our heart rates dropped back to normal, then Mark kissed me on the tip of my nose.

"Four times in one night, God, you bring out the best in me Tink, you were amazing!" he grinned, cuddling me close, his hands slowly and gently fondling me everywhere, keeping me connected to him, not letting this experience slip away.

"What do we do now, Mark, what happens next?" I asked him, curious to know what he thought we should do; I know what I wanted to do; I wanted to take him with me somewhere far away, so we could be together, be a couple, have a life. I already loved him, as my handsome big brother, but now I loved him in this special way as well, as a woman, and I wanted that to be the way he loved me too, as my man.

"Jules, I want you to be with me!" he smiled. "I've been dreaming about you, wanting you, wanking over you, for years now, waiting and hoping for something like this to happen, and now that it has, I don't want it to stop. I want to take you away to places you only ever dreamed of, give you the life you deserve, give you everything you've ever wanted, make you happy! Say that's what you want too, please!"  




Lost Girl: Julie's Story Ch. 02



Many, many thanks to Mriceman1964 once again for his help in editing, proofing, commenting and criticising where it was needed, and generally being realistic about where this story went. Without his help and real-world view I would have foundered, so a huge thank-you! 

If you liked it, please rate it, if you didn't, please tell me why.

If you have a particular point to make, please, drop me a line or make a comment, I do read them and take them to heart, but if you just want to be rude, save it; barking-mad, pointlessly rude and gratuitously nasty comments just get deleted, unless they're funny enough to give me a chuckle! Witty I love, half-witted goes in the bin!

For those of you who were kind enough to like and comment on her story, this will conclude Julie's story, but she does pop up now and then in Nia's story, so she's not gone forever! 

BB1958

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The girls at work soon picked up on the fact that something had gone terribly wrong between Mark and I; the first and most obvious thing they noted was that he no longer came to see me; after two years of almost daily visiting me for lunch, and collecting me at day's end, suddenly he was conspicuous by his absence; also, a couple of times one of the girls had come into my office unexpectedly and found me crying, so they knew that we'd broken up, but nothing else. I had taken to closing my office door firmly, I wanted to be left alone to work, I was in no mood to discuss something so personal, and they knew me better than to ask. 

Eventually, it was Doreen, of all people, who worked up the nerve to confront me about my misery, to try and get me to talk about it with a sympathetic ear, and try and get me out of my depression.

One afternoon, about a month after it had all gone so horribly wrong, there was a soft knock at my door, and before I could say anything, Doreen had slipped inside and shut the door behind her.

"Jules, we need to talk" she said, before I could say a word. I just looked at her, unable to think of anything I wanted to discuss with anyone that wasn't work-related.

"Doreen, I'm very busy, is this about work? Because I'm not really interested..." I began, but she cut me off.

"Jules, what happened with you and Mark? You lock yourself in here, you walk around like a zombie, you don't talk to anyone, and we don't see him anymore; plus, I know you've changed addresses, and we've all seen and heard you crying in here. Whatever happened, you can't keep it all bottled up, and you can't keep us locked out; we're your friends, and we're worried."

I tried to tell her to mind her own business, and instead the tears started again. Doreen led me away from my desk and sat with me on the little couch in my office, letting me cry while she hugged me and waited for the tears to ease-off.

When I stopped crying, she looked me in the eye. "All right, Jules, now talk to me!" she commanded, and I did, telling her everything, except the one searing fact at the core of the whole story, the thing I knew would disgust her; that Mark was my brother, that I'd slept with him, done things with him that I never dreamed of doing with any man, and he'd abandoned me. Doreen picked up on that gaping hole in my story, and tried to make sense of it from my disjointed account of what had happened, and the more I told her, the more confused and muddled my story became, as I tried to gloss over what had really happened.

"Jules, none of this makes sense, you tell me your mother kicked you out over Mark, and that he left you, why? What did your mother have to do with Mark, and why...Oh!"

I looked at her fearfully, realising she'd just made the connection.

She looked at me quizzically. " I suppose I should have guessed, I mean, in hindsight, it was right out there in the open; from some angles you even looked a little alike, I just never bothered to look at the two of you; I was too busy looking at him!" she grinned. "You have to admit, he was worth looking at! So what happened, your mother found out, and blew a gasket, yes?"

I nodded miserably, unable to look her in the eye.

"So why didn't he just give her the finger and take you away? I mean, he was into you in a big way, everyone could see that, it made us all very jealous!" 

I started crying again.

"Dor, I don't know, one minute he's telling me he loves me, that I'm the one for him, that we'll always be together, a few minutes later he's looking through me while she's screaming at me that she should have got rid of me with a coat hanger, and throwing me out the door, at the same time praising him for being a good boy and apologising to her! I was so scared, and he never even batted an eyelid! The fucker used me, screwed me every way he could, and watched me leave without even a twitch of his fucking eyebrow!" 

Doreen was shocked. "Your own mother said that? About the coat hanger...Oh my God, what a thing to say! Oh Jules, why didn't you say something, anything, I would have been there for you! At least your friend was there for you when it happened."

I tried explaining how ashamed I was of what I'd done, of sleeping with my own brother, that I felt used and abandoned, and lost and frightened, I didn't want anyone to know, it was such a disgusting thing, that I was horrified with myself for ever letting myself get sucked in so deep...and that I still loved him, even though he'd treated me like a cheap whore.

I was in tears again, and once again Doreen was there to give me a real shoulder to cry on. Eventually I got myself under control, and I asked her what she was going to tell the others.

She looked at me sideways. "Me? Nothing, unless you want me to. It's not your fault you fell in love with him, but he deserves to burn for taking advantage of you and your feelings like that. Telling you he loves you to get in your pants is an old trick, all guys do it at some point, and you fell for it, because it usually works, but the fault lies with him, not you; you were his little sister, for God's sake! He knew exactly what he was doing, and he's going to burn for it; one day he'll find out what it costs to do things like this to people like you!" she finished fiercely, eyes blazing, and I could tell just how angry she was.

She visibly calmed herself, and grinned at me. "You're coming with me, to a place I know not far from here, they do the best cure for what ails you right now -- shots, lots of them, followed by more shots! Come on, Jules, get your face on, we're getting shit-faced! Who knows, we might even find a karaoke Bar and make complete arses of ourselves!"

I didn't really feel like drinking, but she seemed eager to get me into a bar, and it would be nice to do something other than going back to my place and crying, which was my usual evening pastime these days.

While I fixed my face a little, Doreen went and got her coat and waited for me, calling up someone to meet us at the wine bar she was taking me to. Her friend Steven was already waiting for us when we got there, a tall handsome man a couple of years older than us, with black hair and startlingly green eyes, who hugged Doreen and shook hands with me. We all chatted about the day's news, the weather, anything neutral, Doreen carefully avoiding touchy subjects like boyfriends, family, relationships, although her friend seemed to be getting more and more familiar with her, and she was just giggling as she fended him off. I remarked that she'd definitely scored there, and she just grinned at me. 

"Don't be silly, Steve's my brother!" she laughed, "he's just trying to make me spill my drink!"

Perhaps it was the talk we'd had earlier, or because I just wanted to feel different, but I ended up drinking far too many tequila slammers, and by about 9 o'clock my head was spinning.

"Jules, you can't go home like this, stay at my place tonight, you'll be ok there!" was the last thing I clearly remember Doreen saying to me, that and a vague memory of a short cab journey. Doreen and Steven helped me into her flat, where I collapsed onto her big soft couch, and that was it.

I woke in darkness, needing to go to the bathroom, and I wandered out of her sitting room, looking for it. Once I'd finished, I stumbled back down the corridor to find the couch again, while a sound I'd been hearing in the background became clearer in the late night silence, a rhythmic 'oof...oof...oof' coming from one of the other rooms.

Still half drunk, I tried one of the doors, it was Doreen's bedroom, and that was where the sound was coming from. I soon saw the cause of it. Doreen was spread-eagled naked on the bed, Steven above her, pounding himself into her, his thrusts so hard her breasts were quivering and her nipples dancing with the force he was hammering his cock into her, his breathing and the slap of flesh on flesh suddenly loud and distinct in the silence, the only other sound that of air being forced out of her every time he rammed his cock into her, making that 'oof' sound. I stopped and stared, mesmerised by the sight of her slim, lithe body being rammed by her brother, his cock sliding in and out of her like a piston, her nipples shaking on her pert up-thrust breasts in time to his cock-thrusts. Even in my emotionally battered state, with the added layer of alcohol on top, I found the sight immensely erotic and exciting, and even found time to envy the fact that she could do this with her brother, something forever denied to me now.

Doreen turned her head and opened her eyes, seeing me in the half-open doorway. Instead of covering up or stopping, she smiled at me and crooked a finger, calling me in. Only half aware of what I was doing, I followed her beckoning finger, moving right up next to the bed. 

Doreen reached up to stroke my face gently, then stroked Steven's face, his eyes meeting mine for a split second before he gave his full attention back to hammering his sister's pussy with his impressive-looking cock.

"Hello, Sleeping Beauty, come and play with us!" she whispered

She trailed a finger from my lips down my neck and between my breasts and on down to hook into the waistband of my jeans. 

"Take it off!" she whispered, and I obeyed without thinking, mesmerised by the tableau in front of me, undoing the button and pulling my jeans down.

"Everything, Jules, take it all off!" she murmured, and once again, I obeyed without question, pulling my top off and sliding off my underwear, to be as naked as she.

"Good, that's good, now come up here, Jules, you'll like it, I promise!" she said softly, a small smile flitting across her face. 

I sat next to her and her hand came up and wrapped around the back of my head, gently pulling me down to her, our lips meeting in a soft and tentative kiss, her lips and tongue light and fleeting, different to a man's kiss, but no less exciting. Doreen tapped her brother on the shoulder and he stopped hammering into her, instead withdrawing and kneeling up and leaning back on his haunches, his body sculpted and shiny with sweat, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath, and his cock standing out at least 7 inches, curved and glossy in the dim light from the small bedside lamp.

Doreen moved to lean over me, settling me onto my back as she French-kissed me deeper now, her tongue working against mine, her fingers lightly tweaking and rubbing my nipples. I was falling further and further under her spell, wanting her to do more and more to me, keep on making me feel good, help burn away that core inside me that ached for Mark. Her hand slipped down my abdomen, to caress and lightly touch my labia, one finger gently sliding up and down the crease between them, slowly working its way inside my folded flesh until she was lightly rubbing at my hooded clitoris, making me gasp and shudder with pleasure, filling my head with the wonder of what she was doing, of who was doing this to me. Now she moved her lips from mine and lightly kissed down my throat, down to my breasts, to lightly clamp her lips around my nipple, scraping lightly, so lightly with her teeth, rubbing gently with her tongue, and finally sucking to make the pink points stand up firm and rigid against her tongue. She licked and wetted my nipple then moved her mouth off and blew gently on the wet nipple and aureole, the sensation making me gasp as little threads of electricity unfurled through me, making my pussy twinge and seep lubrication.

Doreen kissed all the way down to the apex of my slit, her kisses changing to little stabbing licks as she insinuated her tongue into the furrow where my clitoris hid, making me twitch and shudder, my breath catching. She pulled me around so she could lie properly between my thighs, holding my legs apart as she licked and jabbed with her tongue, tasting me as much as stimulating me, licking at my lips as they swelled, and gently forcing her tongue between them to lap and lick at my inner recesses. Her tongue worked its way up until she was softly licking and flicking her tongue at my swelling clitoris, the sensations shooting through my entire body as she excited and worked me up, my juices flowing freely now. At last, she sucked and licked my clitoris until I began to come, waves of pleasure washing over me, each one higher and more powerful than the last one, until the sensation merged into one huge powerful wave that crashed over me, making me scream in my release, my whole body shaking and shuddering as my muscles spasmed.

As I began to come down, Doreen covered my body with hers, her lips on mine as we kissed passionately, hands groping and fingers sliding and touching. Her kisses moved back down my body, and, as she clamped her mouth on my pussy once again, Steven moved up behind her and once again slid his cock into her, the three of us pumping and straining against each other as we all reached out for release. I came first, my pussy tortured by her mouth and tongue, my orgasm setting off Doreen, and as she climaxed the constrictions in her pussy pushed Steven over the edge, and he roared like a bull as he blasted his semen into her, the vibrations of her body being hammered being transmitted to my vulva and rolling my climax on and on.

I awoke at first light, Doreen lying next to me with her arm around my waist, spooning against Steven, who had his arm in turn around her. I realised that, for the first time in weeks, I wasn't waking and looking for Mark, that I actually felt rested, and that I hadn't dreamed about him; last night seemed to have finally laid that ghost to rest, at least.

I turned my head to see Doreen smiling sleepily at me, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to let her kiss me good morning, a long, sexy wet kiss that had my pussy twitching!

Doreen gently licked and bit at my lips, sliding her tongue into my mouth as her hands once again explored me, her fingers slipping down across my belly to rub and caress my rapidly swelling labia. Her finger slipped inside me, gently rubbing my hooded clitoris, little lightning bolts shooting through my body as she set my pussy slowly on fire. She began kissing down from my lips to my throat, biting and licking my neck gently, just enough to leave a pink mark, and further on down, to suck and nibble on my nipples, gently to pulling them up again into hard and stiff points, making me gasp and sigh. 

Now she kissed and licked slowly further down following the trail of her fingers, until she dipped her tongue in the apex of my slit again, rubbing and teasing my hooded clit, making me writhe and squirm in delight. She slid between my legs, her tongue working at me as I held her head against me, twining my fingers in her hair to hold her where she was pleasuring me most, and Doreen ate me out properly, her tongue teasing and tasting, lapping and stroking, her lips nibbling and nipping until I was in a haze of sexual arousal.

Doreen pointed her tongue and pushed it into me as far as she could, making me gasp and arch my back, the intense pleasure as she wriggled her tongue inside me like nothing I had ever felt before, and when she licked around my anus, I could feel the first stirrings of orgasm, but it wasn't until she jammed her tongue into my arse as hard as she could that I came, in a great billowing wave of pleasure, my heart hammering as my body spasmed, all my world centred around the sensations flaring out from my pussy, the intense feeling of my juices spurting out of me as I squirted over her mouth and neck, and the talented tongue jammed and wriggling in my tight anus.

I finally came down from my high to see Doreen's eyes dancing just above the mound of my pussy, and the soothing feeling of her tongue now lapping gently at my tight hole, and the soft fingers gently caressing my tender and sensitive pussy.

Steven was still fast asleep, so we talked in low voices, so as not to disturb him. I had a question about the whole Steven/Doreen thing.

"Tell me Dor," I asked, "Aren't you afraid that what happened to me with my brother will happen to you?"

Doreen grinned. "I can confidentlypredict that will never happen, for a very good reason. I love my brother, but I'm not in love with him. This, what we do here, this is helping each other out. Besides, I couldn't have him even if I wanted him that way; I think his wife would object!"

I must have looked stunned, so Doreen explained further.

"When I hang up for a date, and if Steven's in town, we hook up, have some fun, then come back here to my place, and fuck each other's brains out. No strings, no expectations, no recriminations, it's just sex; it's great fun, we both know the other's clean, we know what we like, and there's none of that 'you promised you'd call and you didn't' business. We just do it for the sex, and great sex it is too, because there's no guilt or emotional attachments, no 'I love you' to deal with. I'm positive my sister knows, or at least suspects, but she also knows if he's doing me, then he's not out chasing some other piece of random skirt and bringing home God knows what!"

I asked her about other guys, and what about 'Mr Right'?

She grinned. "Sweetie, when Steven's not here, I only have girls up here, right now there's only one cock for me, and it's asleep over there. One day, maybe, I'll meet a guy special enough that I'll only want him, then Steven and I will call it a day; so far it hasn't happened. Steven and I are the best of Friends with Benefits, and I like it that way!" 

"And me, Dor, what was I?" I asked her, more to see what she'd say than out of any feelings I may have developed (which I hadn't).

Doreen smiled slowly at me. "You, Jules, were someone who needed to stop thinking the world has come to a grinding halt. You needed last night to learn that there's life after Mark, that you can have fun again, and that sometimes it needn't be about anything except fun -- you're not even 19 yet, for fuck's sake, these things happen, the world's full of Mark's, but that doesn't have to mean there's no-one else out there for you. If you keep on brooding and thinking about it and going round and round in your head about what you did wrong, you're going to end up biting yourself in the small of your back; lighten up and give yourself a chance! 

Who knows, maybe you'll find him again, and he'll explain, and it was all a big mistake, he loves you, hearts and flowers etcetera; just don't bank on it. In the meantime, have some fun, Jules, don't waste yourself, this is the best part of our lives, we're young, free, single and independent, the world's at our feet, let's enjoy ourselves a bit! Case in point, you didn't exactly fight me off last night, or just now, so a part of you already knows that, let it out more often! Sometimes a good, meaningless shag is the best cure of all for what ails you! "

She was making a lot of sense, and I was surprised at hearing this coming from her; she wasn't the one in the office I would have labelled as a model of maturity, which just goes to show how driven we are by first impressions. But she was right; I loved Mark, even after what he'd done, but I had to move on, I had to find a healthier outlet for myself than moping and crying. Luckily I had Shelagh, and Nia, and now Doreen to point the way.




Lost Girl: Julie's Story Ch. 02



After an enjoyable and extended necking session, Doreen said she'd be taking a day off work, Steven would be champing at the bit when he woke and she wanted to get the benefit, so I headed back to the office on my own, relaxed and actually clear-headed for the first time in weeks. The other girls noticed my changed attitude, as I returned their greetings with a smile and a cheerful 'Good Morning!' And I meant it; for the first time in weeks, I really did think it was a good morning.

I spent that day working with my office door open, letting everyone know I was back.

On the way home that evening I got a panicked call from Nia, so I detoured over to her place, to find her pacing around, eyes red from crying, kind of a norm for her these days.

I asked her what was the matter (this time!) and, as usual, it was to do with Jamie, and his lack of communication with her, and the fact that he was graduating soon, but had already decided to ditch his Graduation ceremony and come home early, and that he'd be home in a few days, what was she going to do, why did she feel so afraid to see him, the usual. 

I could see it immediately, as could any one of her friends: she was obviously besotted with him, and that deep connection she had with him was causing her all kinds of grief because she'd elected to stay so angry with him for so long. I couldn't figure out what she had to be angry about; according to Mrs. Morrison, Jamie called home every few days, but Nia refused to speak to him, so this was kind of a problem of her own making, and she didn't want answers; she wanted to talk about Jamie, something I had no time or appetite for at the moment; discussing brothers was not somewhere I wanted to go right now; of course Nia didn't know, she'd never be so insensitive, but the whole area was one big open wound right now, and I had no wish to pick at it.

Asking Shelagh would have done her no good -- any mention of Jamie in her presence started her off in swoon-mode, something that particularly irritated Nia, so I was the short option, but I had no answers, even though I could see where the whole Nia and Jamie thing was headed; tipping things strongly in their favour though was the fact that her parents were human, not anything like my lunatic mother.

Eventually I ended-up telling her that whatever she wanted to do about Jamie, she'd be best-off just doing it -- either she made a pass at him and snagged him, or he blew her off; at least she'd know for sure. Either way, I couldn't help her make a decision like that, I could only wait to either applaud or help her pick up the pieces.

Nia was also intensely curious about my own situation, what had happened at home, and where Mark had gone, she never saw him around anymore. I was still too bruised to talk about it, especially if her situation with Jamie went along the same lines as with Mark and me, so I just asked her not to press me, it was a bad memory I had no wish to revisit, and she left it at that.

The next few days were uneventful. Doreen came back to work, looking very pleased with herself, giving me a couple knowing grins, and I started taking lunch breaks with the girls in the office, slowly becoming one of them again, putting more of myself into my job, probably so I would have less time for leisure; for me, leisure meant loneliness.

Doreen asked me a couple of times if I would like to go out again with her and Steven, but I passed on that; I knew where that would lead, and I wasn't interested in becoming the third point on a triangle; ménage a trois is nice in fantasies, but the reality is that someone always ends up getting less out of it than the other two, and I had no intention of ever again becoming that involved with anyone; once bitten, twice shy was now my motto. 

Then, one day, I got a call from Nia, asking me if I would meet her at The Ministry of Sound, a club in The Borough, near London Bridge, and to bring Shelagh, and that Jamie would be there; that news alone would be sure to bring Shelagh scurrying along, I was fairly sure of that! I called up Shelagh, told her and I swear I heard her hormone levels jump over the phone! She had a big case for Jamie, which was a real pity, as he wouldn't even notice her, I would have taken bets on that...

We got the club at around 11:30, Nia and Jamie were already inside waiting for us. I'd forgotten just how attractive Jamie really was, and his calm, gentle personality seemed to be even more in evidence now that I was seeing him again after so many years. He'd obviously completely forgotten me, although he looked at me a couple of times like he was trying to recall something. I found that completely understandable in him; when Nia was around him, everything and everybody faded into the background. I was curious why Nia had asked us to come along, though; if she wanted a date with Jamie, why not just go on a date with him, why were we here?

After a little conversation, a slow number came on, and Shelagh jumped at the chance to drag him onto the floor, Jamie obviously reluctant. I just happened to see Nia looking at him, and I could have sworn she nodded at him, like she was giving him permission to dance with Shelagh.

It was embarrassing to watch. Poor Shel swayed and rubbed and undulated against him for all she worth, Jamie just looking more and more uncomfortable, and when the number ended, Shel grabbed his face and latched on for dear life. I saw the look Jamie gave Nia, and I saw the quick blaze of anger in her eyes, then sorrow, and ...satisfaction? 

Suddenly, I saw the light. Of course, poor Shel, she'd just been showed why she could never have Jamie, and I was there to pick up the pieces. It was a smart move by Nia, some would say calculating, but I know Nia better than that; she really loves Shel, and this was the kindest, easiest way of letting her down; the alternative would be Shel trying it at some party where all our friends would be, and getting the same result, and how humiliating would that have been?

Jamie led Shelagh back to our table, still quite oblivious to what had actually happened out there on the dance floor, and Nia took her off to the Ladies to have a cry while I decided to give Jamie a surprise.

"I saw what happened out there!" I said softly, and Jamie turned to look at me. "Sorry, what was that?" he asked, as I hadn't spoken to him yet that evening. 

"Shelagh's had a thing for you for years, Jamie, hell, half our class feels the same way, but she's always had it big and bad," I told him, "I know what she was trying to do out there, and I saw her kiss you, and you just looked like she was invisible; she's probably crying in the ladies restroom right now!

Jamie kind of shrugged; I could see he was very uncomfortable with what had happened, and I felt sorry for him -- he hadn't led her on or anything, she'd practically ambushed him.

"I also saw the look you gave Nia when Shelagh kissed you, and the expression on Nia's face. How long have you two been a couple, then?" 

His eyes opened wide as he realised that cat was out of the bag. 

"Look Julie, it's not like that at all..." he began, trailing off as I shook my head. I decided to ask him a direct question; I knew he'd answer me, he's always truthful, that's always been a major part of his innate attractiveness.

"Jamie," I began," She's had you buzzing around her all her life, holding her hand and being sweet, and I have to admit, you are kind of ok looking, and nearly everyone in our entire year at school has been drooling over you for years, so the only question I have is; why did it take her so long?" 

Now Jamie looked puzzled. "So you have no problem with Nia and I, you know...? Really? Why?"

I decided to share, let him know they were not as alone as they maybe thought.

"Because I know what's happening with you two. My older brother was my first, he said he loved me, I know I loved him, he said we would go far away, where no-one would know us, we could be a couple, have a family, the whole thing. My mum found out, talked him out of it, asked him to leave me and go, and so he fucked off, and he's never been back in contact with me, so yeah, I know what it's like for Nia, and no, I won't say anything; it's your business; you can't help who you fall in love with." 

Telling him this made me well-up, and Jamie, concern in his eyes, and ever the gentleman, gave me his handkerchief so I could mop my eyes.

I started again. "Jamie, Nia's been my friend since we were 11 years old, and all she's ever talked about is you. She's been in love with you since she was a little girl, even if she never came right out and said it; we all got it long ago, how long did it take you to get it?"

Jamie looked like a man with a major discovery on his hands, that soft-focus look he always got whenever he spoke of or to Nia. "I only found out yesterday, no, correction, admitted it to myself for the first time yesterday; Nia was always the most important thing in my life, and I always adored her, even when she was being a real pain; I promised mum I'd be a proper big brother, look out for her, and I kept my promise; it wasn't that hard, to be honest. When I saw her again yesterday, for the first time in three years, she showed me how she felt about me, something clicked into place, and I knew I felt the same way. I'm not leaving her behind again; wherever I go from now on, I'm taking her with me."

That was what I wanted to hear. The two of them had been inseparable inside their heads since early days, emotionally locked together all their lives, it was about time they admitted and accepted it!

I reached over and took his hand. "Good boy! Perhaps you should tell her that!" I paused. "I just got why she asked Shelagh and me along tonight, you're smart, you should be able to figure it out too. Oh, and one more thing; Shelagh's a nice girl, but she can be a vindictive cow, and you just blew her off, so don't let her know about you and Nia." 

Just then, Shel and Nia came back, so I let him go for now, concentrating on my friend, who was making a good effort to act like nothing had happened. We all chatted like friends, but there was definitely a hollow feel about it, Shelagh was clearly needing to get away, but I needed to reinforce something with him, so I asked Jamie for a dance, noting the way he silently asked Nia for permission; good, he knew who was boss right now!

Once I got him onto the dance floor, I pulled his head down to whisper in his ear "Remember one thing, Jamie; Nia's one of my closest and oldest friends, if you hurt her, I WILL find a way to make you pay, make no mistake about it!"

He seemed a little taken aback, not to say bemused at being threatened by a small girl like me, but he took my point.

"Julie, I promise you," he said, " Nia's all I want, I know she's the one, so you can rest easy, whatever we do from here on, we're doing it together, is that good enough for you?"

I knew Jamie was incapable of lying, and he plainly adored and worshipped Nia, so I thought I'd lighten the mood.

"OK, Jamie good enough for me; now for fuck's sake try and dance like you know what you're doing!" 

He grinned that sweet boyish grin that had always made him so attractive, and made an effort to not look like he was trying to back a truck into a narrow space as he tried his best to dance with me. 

When we got back to our table, Shelagh made an excuse to leave, so I went with her; she was hurting right now, and I wanted her to come home with me so she could cry, the way she'd done for me when I needed it. 

Jamie hailed us a cab, and caught my eye as I got in, nodded slightly and grinned again that happy grin of his as he took Nia's hand; I knew there and then that there was no chance there of Nia going through what I did, Jamie was obviously and permanently in love with her, so my mind was at rest on that score.

Shelagh was in tears by the time we got back to my place, heartbroken over Jamie; I felt for her; she'd carried that torch since she was 11 years old, now, nearly 8 years later, she'd tried to light one in him, and she'd failed. I let her cry for a while, then she began hating him, which was healthier than sobbing, I supposed, telling me all the reasons why it would never have worked between them, how much she hated him, and dreaming up complicated revenge schemes. Her final word on the subject was a relief to hear. 

"Jules, if I ever mention Jamie Morrison again, slap me, hard, OK? Promise?" I promised, and slipped in a little snippet about Charlotte Pryce's 'ferret-in-a hedge' brother who'd filled out nicely thanks to a stint in the Royal Marines, trained regularly at the local gym, was quite cute in a rugged, 'me-Tarzan-you-Jane' sort of way, and currently single. Shelagh's eyes lit up, and in a very short while, over a couple of large Sangria's, Jamie was forgotten as her new man-snaring scheme unfolded.

I left her watching TV, it had been a long day, and I needed to recuperate; also, Shelagh had started me thinking. Perhaps a new man was what I needed, a new start, with someone new, someone I could get to know, and who'd get to know me, move a little slower than I had with Mark.

The next day, I got a call from Nia again, she and Jamie wanted to spend the evening with me, they were telling their dad, and needed to be out of the house while their mum went to bat for them. It was an...interesting evening; Nia managed to get the whole Mark story out of me, in fact, I spilled my guts like a prison stoolie, which wasn't what I wanted, as it only brought my loss back into sharp focus

++++

The months went by, Nia started Law School at the London School of Economics, coincidentally opposite my office on Southampton Row, so most afternoons, if she was free or had a short day, she'd wander over to see me, and we'd get a sandwich or a Chinese together. Jamie was busily building his own business, contracting himself out to exploration companies, building-up his list of contacts and saving every penny he earned to start his own consultancy. I used to stay with Nia when he was away, her dad had given them the top floor of their house as their own space, a sort of apartment, which he referred to as 'The Sin Palace' and stayed away from, unless he heard Nia playing some of his old Stax, Philadelphia and Atlantic soul records, then the two of them would sit up there, eyes closed, leaning against each other, grooving and worshipping at the feet of Otis Redding and Al Greene while Jamie and his mum ate ice cream and watched cop shows, or listened to Jamie's Sam Cooke and Van Morrison CD's.

I met and dated a variety of guys, all of whom were nice, some were very nice indeed, but there was always something missing, something that failed to flick my 'he's the one' switch. Sometimes, one of the more romantic ones would leave a bunch of flowers with a card addressed to me on the step outside, always purple hyacinths, maidenhair ferns and orange blossom, with a single primrose in the middle, and I was always intrigued to know which of the guys I'd dated was sending me flowers, but I never found out. Then boutique chocolates on my birthday, again left outside in a package addressed to me, and again no clue as to the sender.

For two years, as Nia worked her way through university, I became increasingly a fixture in her house. Jamie was away a lot, his name was getting around, and he was becoming in-demand, so I spent a lot of time with Nia and her lovely, steely little mum, the only person I know who's shorter than I am! 

In many ways, Mrs Morrison became a mother to me. She was someone I could have a mother-daughter conversation with about life, love, boyfriends, all the stuff I should have been doing with my own mother, and she gave me the advice that a mother gives her daughter -- also, she reviewed the various short-term boyfriends I managed to acquire, generally asking the questions about them that a mother would.

And then I met David. 

The first time I saw him I thought he was bloody gorgeous, tall, dark blonde hair, bright blue china-doll eyes, sporty and fit, a smile that could melt through concrete, single, four years older than me, and a steady job with the Civil Service. I was in a haze when he asked me out, all I could focus on was that smile, those eyes. We went on several dates, David taking me to the West end to see 'Jersey Boys', romantic dinners, chocolates, flowers, the whole thing. I thought he may be the one, the one person who could wipe away the memory of Mark. Eventually, I gave in; I needed him, or rather, I needed a man, and as Shelagh pointed out, even if a guy's not Mr Right, why not at least let him be Mr Right-Now, and give myself a chance.

So I set up this whole seduction routine, decoying him into the bedroom so I could work him out a little, maybe scrub away the last little bits of Mark that still lurked in odd corners of me.

I started innocuously enough.

"So, David, what are you doing tomorrow?" I asked him as we sat in my place, having a post-pub sandwich.

He grinned at me. "Nothing much, for the first time in a long time, my Saturday is free -- no Rugby practice, the cricket nets aren't open yet, and I don't want to go circuit-training, so I was going to lie-in, watch TV, and slob-out, and ask you if you would like to go to a wine bar in the evening.

I took a deep breath.

"You could do that here, you know, you don't have to go home tonight, after all, we've been going out now for...!"

He cut me off with a smile. "I accept, Julie, thank you, I was wondering when my manly charms would wear you down!"

He pulled me close and sat me on his lap, kissing me while his hands ran up and down my back. I moved and sat astride him, pulling myself closer so I could kiss him better, his hands dropping down to my backside and squeezing lightly, letting me know he was enjoying himself, enjoying me.

I broke our kiss and stood up, tugging his hand, and leading him to my bedroom, a place no man had been since I moved here over two years ago; I thought it was about time it saw some action.

David turned me as we entered the room, dipping down to kiss me as his hands slid over me, tugging at my top, pulling it out of my jeans as he began to undress me.

I fumbled with his sweater, pulling it up to unhook the waistband of his slacks, and David pulled his sweater off, then pulled my blouse over my head and popped the button on my jeans, sliding them down in one move. I grinned at him.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" and his answering smile literally lit the room up. He was such a beautiful man!

David peeled his clothes off down to his briefs, and I was intrigued (and excited!) to note the sizeable lump furled-up in the front there. I unhooked my bra and shrugged it off, David immediately catching me up and kissing me as his hands roamed over me and down into my panties, sliding them off as he cupped and squeezed my bum cheeks, walking me backwards to the bed and urging me onto it, not that I actually needed any encouragement! 

I hooked my fingers in the waistband of his briefs and tugged them down, feeling a delicious tingle as his thick and handsome 7-inch cock sprang free, my pussy twitching in anticipation of what the night was going to bring.

David pulled me in close for another long, hot, powerfully arousing kiss, somehow manoeuvring me onto the bed, lying down next to me as his hands roamed over me, touching, caressing, fondling and squeezing.

I took hold of his impressive cock, wanting to feel the heat and pulse of it, my need for him almost overwhelming after so long. I kissed his muscular chest, licking and gently biting his nipples, making him tense his stomach, his abdominal muscles standing out in high relief as he gasped and bucked, before I moved down, kissing him lightly and fleetingly. I pumped his cock gently, feeling him flex as I kissed on down his abdomen towards his groin, eventually kissing and licking up the length of his cock from root to crown, making him gasp and smile, and licking once across the shiny purple head, tasting his maleness, his scent and taste strong and clean. His fingers gently massaged my pussy, sliding along my wet labia, feeling my readiness even as I slipped my lips over his velvety crown, hearing him gasp as I sucked him.




Lost Girl: Julie's Story Ch. 02



As I suckled him, his finger gently insinuated itself between my labia, making me gasp at the sensation, and suck harder at him, making him groan and shift, and I could feel his thigh muscles tensing. I pumped him with one hand while I gently squeezed and massaged his balls with the other, wanting him to come, partly because I wanted to taste his spunk, but also to take the edge off him, as I wanted a full work-out tonight, not a quick dash to the finish-line! 

I sucked and pumped and squeezed, and then, as I rubbed my tongue through the furrow in the tip of his cock; "Oh God, Julie, I'm coming, oh yesss...ooohhh yesss!" he groaned, his cockhead swelling and pulsing, jet after jet of sperm pumping into my mouth, me swallowing as fast as I could to prevent the huge amount of spunk he was jetting into me spilling out of my mouth. He tasted salty, tangy, and slightly acrid, almost bitter, forcing an instant comparison with my only other remembered taste of spunk, when Mark and I had done this.

At last he stopped spunking into my mouth, the jets dying back to a trickle of sperm bubbling and frothing from his still hard cock. I sucked and licked him clean, and licked my lips before moving back up to lie next to him, my head on his chest as I listened to his heart trip-hammering in his chest.

"That was...fucking amazing, Julie, thank you, thank you!" he grinned somewhat breathlessly and I tweaked his cock gently.

"Don't get too comfortable, David," I grinned, "You're not done yet!" I reminded him.

"Oh yes, Julie, I hadn't forgotten, believe me!" he smiled, reaching for me and kissing me deeply, but gently and tenderly, almost tentatively. His hand slipped down between my legs to find me as wet and ready as I was ever going to be, the previous few minutes notching up my libido and readying me for anything.

I reached up and pulled his head down to me, and growled in his ear "Don't grope me, fuck me, now!" and he took me at my word, rolling me onto my back and moving between my thighs, looking at me and waiting for my go-ahead. I smiled and nodded, and he slid up to me, his cock probing against my wet slit. I guided him into me, and he slowly, considerately, gently slid himself into me, the feel of him stretching me slightly painful after more than two years with no sex of any sort. At last he was in to the hilt, and briefly leaned down to kiss me, a gentle smile on his face as he took his weight on his forearms and began to back out again. I looked into his blue eyes as he hovered above me, and slowly slid in again, filling me, feeling wonderful as he gently and tenderly made love to me, pumping his cock into me as he looked my into eyes with his brilliantly blue, gentle eyes.

I began to respond more overtly, my hips coming up to meet his thrusts, grinding myself against him as he pushed into me. I could feel that feeling again, that little glow of light inside that could burst though me like a star going nova, and bore up against him, increasing my efforts, trying to please him as he pleasured me.

David redoubled his efforts, pounding his cock into me, humping me madly as I jammed my pussy against him, taking him with me as hot curls of orgasm began to thread and uncoil through me, until, at last, in a great explosion of heat and burning light in the core of me, my climax blasted through me, arching my back as I rode the almost forgotten feeling. My ears popped and eyesight dimmed as sensory overload washed through me, my cry of release drowning out his groan of delight as I clamped down on him. My pussy throbbed and rippled as he emptied himself into me, the heat of his spunk as it roared into me rolling my orgasm on and on as he came again and again, spunk splashing into me in seemingly huge amounts, hot and delightful as it bathed my womb in his essence.

I must have passed out, when I opened my eyes it was morning, and I felt light and marvelously rested, at peace at last. I could feel the warmth of another body next to mine, and I turned to see Mark, his blonde hair glowing in the morning sun. I sighed happily, the events of the last two years no more than an unusually lucid nightmare. I reached out to stroke his hair, and he stirred, turned to look and smile at me, his blue eyes warm and happy. 

CLICK

Blue eyes, not grey

CLICK

Dark blonde, not golden-haired

CLICK

"Mark, is that you? You're not Mark, who are you...?"

CLICK

Not Mark, Not Mark, Not Mark.

I panicked, this wasn't happening to me, who was this man, where was Mark, why was I here....?

With a guttural moan, I scrambled away from him, raw panic bubbling in the back of my throat as I fought to not scream, terror only a heartbeat away, pulling the covers up to shield my nakedness from him, looking for Mark, where was he, why didn't he come for me, what was happening to me?

He immediately pulled the bed covers all the way up over me, covering me, as he tried to work out what had gone so horribly wrong, how he'd hurt or frightened me so badly, and spoke in a soft, soothing voice, trying to talk me down from that peak of panic I was cowering on.

"Sshhh, Julie, it's all right, you're safe, no-one's going to hurt you, it's OK now, you're safe...!"

He put his arm around me, making me cringe and whine and cower back even more, and he broke away, deep concern in his eyes. He came to a decision, and picked up my 'phone. 

"Julie, I'm calling Shelagh, you need her now, I'm just going in the other room, if you need anything, call out...."

I heard his voice in the other room as he talked on the phone.

"Shelagh? It's David, I'm with Julie now. She's had some kind of massive panic attack or something, I don't know what set it off, but she's scared out of her mind, she needs you, she's scared of me, won't let me near her, she's just huddled up in her bedroom. No, I didn't do anything! We were fine last night, she just woke up and suddenly she looked like she'd never seen me before, she looks terrified, please come now, I can't do anything for her, I can't get near her!"

He came back in the room and retrieved his clothes, taking care not to come too near to me, because I still couldn't remember who he was, and that edge of panic was still there. He'd just finished dressing when the doorbell rang and he went to the door to let Shelagh in. She and David exchanged a few murmured words, then she came into the bedroom, and as soon as I saw her I flung myself on her, able to cry at last. David watched from the doorway, that look of deep concern still present as I had hysterics, crying for Mark, asking her where he was, begging her to help me find him, he was gone, poor Shelagh trying to make sense of what I was saying. She gradually calmed me down, getting me to lie down and tucking me in before going off to talk with David, but I couldn't help hearing what they were saying.

"What happened, David?" she asked, and David told her what had happened.

"I stayed last night, we were fine, but when she woke she just suddenly looked at me like I was a complete stranger, started crying and pushing me off, almost having hysterics, and she just looked terrified. She called me Mark. Who's Mark?"

Shelagh sat down and sighed.

"Mark was her first, her true love...and her older brother. I thought she'd gotten over him by now, apparently not. Jesus Christ, what a fucking mess!"

David spoke slowly. "So, Julie had an...affair with...her brother?"

Shelagh spoke sharply. "Yes she did, and she doesn't need reminding of how badly it ended, nor does she need anybody moralising at her about it. You have a problem with that?"

His voice immediately became placating. "No, no, it explains a lot about what just happened. She asked me if I was Mark, then panicked, so obviously she had some kind of flashback. Christ, he must have hurt her! Poor Julie, carrying that around inside, I wish I'd known, maybe I would have taken it slower with her, I dunno..." 

Shelagh's voice was a lot warmer. "You weren't to know, she's had boyfriends after Mark, something else set her off, maybe it was because you slept with her, maybe the last time was with him, I don't know. Anyway, I can't leave her like this. I think it would be better if you went, she's obviously confused and frightened, I'll call you later, when I can get some sense out of her!" 

David sighed. "Of course, just make sure she's OK, she looked at me like I was about to rape her or something, I hope to God I never see a look like that on a girl ever again, she was fucking terrified! I think you're right. If you get her dressed, I'll make myself scarce, obviously something about me scared her rigid; I don't want to set her off again!"

I closed my eyes, the panic subsiding as I listened to Shelagh talking, dear Shelagh, she'd help me find Mark!

When I woke, it took me a moment to work out where I was; the last clear memory I had was of being in bed with David, so where the hell was he?

I could hear the TV, so I got up and went looking for him, finding instead Shelagh watching TV with a bowl of corn chips and a jar of chilli dip.

"Morning, Jules, how you feeling?" she called out to me, eyes fixed on Speedy Gonzales.

I went and stood in front of her, blocking the TV.

"Shel, what happened, why are you here, where's David?" I asked her, and watched as she assembled an answer.

"Jules, David called me; you were in a mess, you spazzed-out on him, frightened the life out of him...and called him Mark..."

I sat down heavily. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck! What else happened, Shel?"

"That's about the size of it. You two did the wild thing last night, then when you woke up you went bat-shit, spazzed-out, and turned into Hannah the Hysteric. David was mega-freaked by it, especially when you called him Mark, so he called me, I came over and got you calmed down, because you were completely off your nut. David had to leave, he was freaking you out for some reason, and he was really good about it. I told him about the Mark thing, he needed to know, the poor boy thought it was his fault that you'd suddenly gone Ding! This one's definitely a keeper!"

I was mortified to think that David knew about my sordid secret. I was even more mortified to hear that I'd thought he was Mark, and that Mark obviously still had such a hold over me, even after all this time.

"What am I supposed to do next, Shel, I mean, with David, and...?" I trailed off. Shelagh was looking at me pityingly.

"Jules, as long as your head's still wrapped around Mark, David, or anyone else for that matter, is going to have no chance to get to you. Also, it would probably help if you didn't pick a succession of blonde guys who looked like Mark!"

That brought me up short. Was I just looking for a Mark substitute, a man who looked enough like him that I could pretend it could be him? Was that what my head was telling me, that I couldn't even fool myself? What was I supposed to do now?

I asked that of Shelagh, and the answer she flipped-off didn't really solve anything. 

"Jules, I find meaningless sex answers most of my questions about life, love, the universe and everything, you're welcome to try my world, I know a couple of great places...No? Suit yourself, the offer's there if you need it. If you've finished with David, though, let me have him, you weirded-him out big stylie, I think he needs to walk on the wild side for a while!"

We had coffee together, Shelagh giving me the kind of pep talk that only old, old friends can get away with.

"You need to talk to David, soon, and you need to let him down gently, ok? This relationship of yours is going nowhere, and it's not fair on him; you know what you're doing, and he deserves better than that; let him find someone who actually cares about David because he's David, not because he looks like Mark! Every single guy you've dated since you-know-who has been tall, blonde, blue or grey-eyed, sound like anyone you know? This has got to stop, this is destructive and weird, he's gone, and trying to make someone else into him is wrong and pointless, and bloody unfair on them! Give yourself a break, Jules, let him go!"

I was in tears; she was right of course, I hadn't let Mark go at all, I'd made him into my perfect man, carved him into my heart, and I couldn't let go of that, otherwise I'd have nothing left of him at all, and that was too much for me to even consider, even after what he'd done to me. 

Shel held me as I tried to tell her all this, making soft soothing noises as she stroked my hair, hugged me and tried to console me. 

"I know, baby, I really do, and I feel for you so badly, but he's gone now, he's been gone two years. I don't know what went wrong there, but one thing I do know, he's not coming back, so please, let him go, you have to! Now, you and Nia and I are going to find a bistro, have brunch, have many, many espressos, and sort out your life, ok? Good, get your boots and socks on and let's go!"

As we were leaving, there again, on the doorstep, was a bunch of flowers, the same purple hyacinths, orange blossom, maidenhair fern, and a single primrose, with a card addressed to me. I picked it up and climbed into the Mini for the short drive to the Morrison household to get Nia. When we arrived there, all was in uproar. Jamie and Nia had found their own place, and were coming and going with the easily portable stuff, packing into their dad's car, so we retired to the kitchen to sit with her mum while Nia repacked the car again. While we chatted, Nia's mum picked up the bunch of flowers and looked at me quizzically.

"Where you get this, Julie?" she asked me, and I told her that periodically someone left a bunch just like that that on my doorstep, probably an old boyfriend, that it was strange, but sort of nice.

Mrs. Morrison looked at me oddly. 

"This more than ordinary flowers, look, I show you."

She left the room and came back with a small book, "The Language of Flowers' that I'd seen in all the bookstore bestseller lists a couple of years ago. She pored through the book, and made some notes, then read to me what she'd written.

"Look at this, Julie, someone talking to you, need you to listen. Purple Hyacinth mean 'I am sorry, please forgive me', Orange Blossom mean 'Eternal Love', Primrose mean 'I cannot live without you' and fern mean 'Secret bond of love'; someone talking to you, they shouting for your attention, who is it Julie, you know who this from now?"

My head was spinning, and I had to sit down or fall down. Mark! It had to be from Mark, who else? And why this way, why not just knock on my door?

Mrs. Morrison hugged me, held me close, spoke quickly, softly to me. 

"Perhaps he got no other way to talk to you, something keeping him from you, perhaps he need you to know he still there, still need you. I hear about you and older brother, I not want to judge you, how can I? Perhaps brother have very good reason, perhaps he need you to hate him so you not go look for him. I remember when you little girl, the way brother look after you, watch you, I see even then how he feel about you, and when you hurt I see how much he hurt! No, he not let harm come to you, and he not leave you because he want to, he driven away by ác ngu ngoc me, stupid, evil mother, you think of that? I remember you mother, still very angry with her for hurting you, you think she not capable of much evil? I know she capable, I see for myself!"

My head was in even more of a whirl. In all the time I'd been breaking my heart over him, it had never occurred to me that he may have been warned-off me, that he was keeping his distance to protect me. A moment's thought from Nia's wise, wonderful, smart mother had encapsulated the reason for his disappearance. Wherever he was, it wasn't far; the flowers proved that. What a smart, what a clever, what a unique way of talking to me!

Nia's mum hadn't finished.

"I think you need to keep hoping he come back to you, he keeping his distance for a reason, who knows, maybe reason go away, he come back. Your brother a good boy, he a lot like Jamie, he keep his heart open only for you, he not throw you away like that, be patient, maybe all will be well!"

Tears were running down my face now as I grieved all over again for him, for my lost boy, talking to me from a distance, not daring to come close, but risking...what? Just to drop a simple bouquet of flowers on my front step, to tell me he loved me the only way he could.

"Why didn't he just write me a letter, tell me what was going on, let me know he was OK? Why was that so hard?" 

Nia's mum hugged me as I asked her what could be so terrible that he had to resort to such an elaborate, obscure code to keep his identity concealed, what was he so afraid of? 

"Julie, your brother not stupid, so maybe he afraid for very good reason, and not taking any chances; maybe if he write to you, someone find out, or you let slip he contact you; maybe he not afraid for himself; maybe he afraid for you, so he keep away to keep you safe. It not easy for him, I think; he love you like you love him, maybe he as lonely as you because he not have you with him too."

That had never occurred to me, and it only brought fresh tears as for some reason I pictured his poor sweet lonely face when he was a boy, always alone at home, crying in his room in the dead of night, no-one to care for him as he tried to cope, tried to be an adult because he wasn't allowed be a little boy.

Shelagh meanwhile was grinning like a pumpkin, her smug 'I told you!' look on her face as her words from two years ago reverberated in my head:

"I'm also puzzled, no, worried by this whole Mark thing; 5 minutes after he's swearing eternal undying love for you he's looking right through you; something's really wrong there, she's done something, or said something, or made some kind of threat, I guarantee; Mark's just not like that, something else is going on, something nasty, I'd bet on it, so I'm not going to judge him just yet, much as I love you, Jules."

For the first time in two years, I allowed myself to hope; that my Mark was still there, waiting for me to find him, that my nightmare would be over, that I could erase this part of my life, because there were no memories I wanted from the last two years. 

The hope I had from this conversation stayed with me. Now that I knew (or guessed) who was talking to me, I could believe that one day he would come back, and we could begin again. Mrs. Morrison saw this in me, and insisted I take her book, read through it, maybe leave him a message of my own, a suggestion Shelagh agreed with vocally!

But first, I would have to talk with David...

++++

Seeing David again was heartbreaking; he deserved better than this. I met him in the small coffee shop around the corner from my office; neutral ground. 

My last lucid memory of him was making love, then a hazy set of impressions, memories of Mark tangled up with images of him, and feelings I couldn't define but which pressed at me nevertheless. David was his usual self, but there was a tense wariness about him, almost an unwillingness to touch me, especially when I leaned up to peck him on the cheek. He actually flinched when I kissed him; God, I must have really spooked him...

I started to apologise for panicking and throwing a king-sized freak-out at him, but he stopped me.

"Look Jules, we both know why we're here, we both know it's not going to work, and I despise this 'we can still be friends' break-up bullshit. I worked out what's really going on in your head, and I wish you luck in working it out, I really do; I know I'd only ever be second choice with you, that I'd never be anything else as long as you were still hung up on your...on Mark. Like Shelagh says, I won't be Mr. Right, I'll only ever be Mr. Right-Now, and that's not good enough for me, I believe I deserve better. You're a beautiful girl, a really lovely person, and I wish you every happiness, and I hope you find the man of your dreams one day; I just wish it could have been me. I'll go now, I hate extended goodbyes."




Lost Girl: Julie's Story Ch. 03 Pt. 01



This is the cross-over piece between 'Lost Girl' and 'Big Girls Don't Cry', and it's really two chapters in one, which is why I've had to split it, otherwise it would be far too long to read and take in. Hopefully this will finally link and draw a line under both stories for all those readers who asked that the two original stories be combined to make one narrative.

Thank you for your patience and forbearance, and I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

BB1958

***********

JULIE:

Mark came back from his monthly two-day visit to the Bristol office today looking more tired than usual, so for once, instead of leaping frenziedly on him, as is my usual ploy whenever we've been apart more than 12 hours, I kept Markie and baby Nia quiet, allowing their poor daddy a few hours rest before fatherhood and family once more became a part of his life. 

Mark had to go and see his team members in Clifton every month; with promotion had come responsibilities, but the trip always tired him, as all the problems that had no pleasing, easy solution were obligingly piled on his desk; all the nice, easy issues with easy solutions were sorted out lower down the tree, leaving him to try and organise his team, motivate them to meet their targets, write appraisals, and formulate solutions for problems that had no solutions; all the 'buck-stops-here' problems, in fact. It's a wonder he still had all that lovely bright gold hair of his... 

When he came in, though, tired as he was, he'd kissed me gently, looked around to make sure Markie wasn't in the room or anywhere in sight, and pulled me close for a long, hot kiss. The growing bulge in his trousers rubbed deliberately, pleasurably, across my slit, making me gasp, and his hands found their way under my skirt and into my panties, cupping and squeezing my bum-cheeks while a finger somehow managed to snake its way into my tight bum-hole. That alone left me in no doubt what he'd been thinking about on that tedious train journey back from Bristol, then all the way across London from Paddington! 

I giggled into his mouth at that, squirming delightedly against him; my Mark knew exactly how to heat me up in the shortest possible time, and he'd just hit the jackpot; if the girls had been with Mummy-Anh, I'd have yanked his pants off there and then and climbed on that big cock of his without a moment's hesitation; he wasn't the only one missing a little one-on-one! Mark kissed me one last time and, still holding me by my bum, pulled back a little to look into my eyes.

"God, I missed you, Tink," he grinned, "and I missed these as well!" he whispered, his hands squeezing me again as he spoke, and I knew just from the movements of his hands inside my panties as he squeezed my cheeks that what he wanted to be doing right now was pounding me through the mattress. I grinned and clenched my bum-cheeks, letting him know I knew what was going through his mind, but not making a move to drag him into the bedroom and de-bag him, as I would normally have done by now; I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, and for what I planned on getting from him, I needed him wide awake and raring to go.

"Get some sleep, Peter Pan," I smiled, "You look like you've had a bad night on the varnish. Get a couple of hours rest. I'll call you for dinner, and then, when the girls are asleep, I have plans for you! If all goes according to plan, I'll be waking up in the morning bow-legged and rubbed-raw; how does that sound?"

For answer, he pulled me close again, grinding his crotch against mine, letting me know just how much he wanted me. After more than two years, my Lost Boy still needed to touch and hold me as much as the first night we ever got together; believe me, the feeling was entirely mutual; whenever he went away, I felt a peculiar, ragged sense of loss, an emptiness and almost physical pain that didn't go away until I was running my hands through his soft, golden hair once more, congratulating myself again and again on hooking and landing such a beautiful, sexy, truly wonderful man. 

Mark had been forced to reject me by our lunatic mother, her price for not destroying me; she'd driven him to the brink of suicide, she'd made his life a living hell, and yet he'd kept me safe the whole time; he'd taken a beating to ensure I never had to, and I owed him for that. It was a debt I was glad to repay, with every breath of my body, every beat of my heart, and every stroke of his thick cock deep inside me. 

Mark, too, hated to go anywhere without me; I think he felt the same separation anxiety I felt when he had to go away, and I didn't blame him, not after what he'd been through. That loony bitch kept the threat she'd crush me with the law if he didn't toe the line constantly dangling in front of him, and so she'd kept him dancing on a short leash, sick with fear, for almost three years while she went slowly ga-ga.

Now that mad bitch is dead; she died alone, almost two years ago now, a victim of her own fondness for the booze, unwanted and ignored, and if there's a hell somewhere, she's probably burning in it. I have my Lost Boy back; I will always be his 'Tinkerbell'; we found our own Never-Never Land, and we love each other even more strongly now, because of what we had to endure to win through. 

And we even have a new mum! My best girl Nia, (who I think is possibly the most beautiful girl I've ever seen) has the loveliest, smartest, most loving mum in the world, and now she's mine as well; before Mark ever came back to me, Mummy-Anh became for real the mum to me that she'd always been in every way that counted; I can't even remember when she stopped being 'Mrs. M' and became just 'Mum', and it doesn't matter; she's there, that's all I need to know.

When I was a little girl, it was Nia's mum who made sure from the earliest days that I was always treated like one of the family, someone who belonged there; it was she who tended me and kept me safe when my crazy, drunken bitch of a mother assaulted me, and it was she who taught me what growing up, love, compassion and family was all about. I owe my family to Mummy-Anh, Nia's mum, my mum. When Mark finally came back, she took him into her heart too, and made him hers as surely as she had done for me, showing him what a real mother was, and giving him all the love and care a mother showers on her son. 

Mark feels about her the same way; growing up he was shamefully neglected by our mother, who spent all her time drinking and never had any time left over for him. He never got to be a little boy because he had to be the grown up and raise me, when he was just a little boy himself. 

Mummy-Anh understands this, which is why she makes an especially big fuss over him, constantly letting him know in a million small ways that there's a place he belongs, and a family who cares about him. We named our second daughter 'Nia', to honour my best friend, but also to honour Mummy and link them together in a special way; when we told her, it was the first time I'd ever seen Mummy cry. 

(There's a special bond between my babies and Mummy, a genuine grandmother and granddaughter connection, as deep and loving as the bond between her and little Jamie and Laura, and Bethany's two, Ryan and Jodie, who looks so much like Nia it's uncanny. My own little Nia knows when she's going to Mummy-Anh's house; she won't settle-down until she's cradled in the hollow of her nana's neck, or perched on her hip, and once she's with Mummy-Anh, she'll sleep the day away; she knows she's safe and with family.)

I herded Mark into the bedroom (without too much resistance, I have to say; poor boy really was exhausted...) and watched him shed his clothes and climb gratefully between the sheets.

"You'll wake me for dinner, promise?" he asked, and I nodded. I had already cooked dinner; it was keeping warm in the oven, so he could snooze as long as he wanted, which should take the edge off that exhaustion I could see in his eyes. I kissed him and watched him slide under the covers with a grateful sigh; 10 seconds later he was out like a light. 

The girls were in their room, supposedly having a nap, but after a while I got to wondering why one of them hadn't come wandering out looking for something or other; my two little girls seem to thrive on a night of broken sleep; it seems like every hour they're waking me up for something, but I hadn't seen hide nor hair of them for nearly an hour now, and when I looked in, their cots were empty. 

I immediately checked our room, and there they were, fast asleep, Markie cuddled up against her daddy, lying on her tummy with her little bottom stuck in the air, and Nia lying in the crook of his arm, with their daddy's arm wrapped protectively around both of them. I paused to wonder how, at only 13 months, Nia had managed to climb up there as well, but when it came to snuggling with her daddy, no barrier was too high.

I smiled, and, I'll admit it, my eyes welled-up at the sight of my perfect family; three bright golden heads in a row, all sweetly asleep. We took the long way round, and we both took a lot of hurt, but we got here eventually. I went back down to the kitchen and turned off the oven; Mark was so deeply asleep it would be cruel to wake him, and the girls had their daddy, so they'd stay quiet all night. I grinned wistfully at the lost opportunity and got a duvet from the airing cupboard; it looked like a night in the spare bedroom for me... 

A finger gently tracing the outline of my nipple woke me up, and there was Mark, looking young, tousled, delicious, and wide-awake, with that beautiful, sexy grin of his, the one that used to make all my work colleagues go weak at the knees, that bang of golden hair falling down over his eye, and that light in his eyes.

"Hello, my golden-haired little sex-elf!" he whispered, running his finger down my abdomen and back up between my breasts to scratch my chin. I smiled at his private nickname for me, and he knelt down by the bed to kiss me.

"I put the girls back in Markie's bed; they're both sound asleep; so, Tink, you wanna play?" he whispered in my ear, his hot breath sending shivers up and down my spine. Did I? What a stupid question!

He saw the answer in my eyes, so picked me up like I weighed nothing and carried me into our room, where he laid me down on our bed, at the same time sliding off my panties as I tugged off the T-shirt of his I was wearing. I smiled happily at the sight of his shapely, muscular body, all the weight he'd lost from his ordeal with our crazy mother now back on him, and he looked fit, tanned and gorgeous. He went to slip off his shorts but I batted his hands away; this was my job!

I slid his shorts down, and his thick cock sprang out, thicker than I could get my whole hand around, nearly eight inches of solid, meaty goodness, all ready to take me to the best places in the world. I felt my pussy twitch in anticipation, a sense of warmth pervading that whole area, and I knew my labia were swelling and engorging, ready for him to shove that big thing of his into me!

First things first, though. Mark pulled me up to kiss me again, then gently pushed me back down, slipping his hands under my thighs to urge them open and then squeeze my bum-cheeks as he lowered his head to kiss and lap at my seeping slit. I writhed and sighed as his probing tongue licked me from my bum-hole to my clitoris, still hooded but I could feel it stiffening as he sexed me up, and when he slipped his finger into me while licking my clit, I nearly passed-out with the sensation. Mark knows exactly what to do to turn me into a sexed-up, quivering mass of jelly, and he proceeded to do just that. 

His fingers and tongue probed and rubbed, licked and kissed, while I literally saw stars as waves of pleasure raced and crashed through me, each one bigger than the last, battering me with increasing pleasure, until at last, the tension building inside me couldn't contain itself, and when he pushed his tongue between my labia and simultaneously rammed his middle finger up into my bum, I came in a supernova of pleasure, pulling a pillow over my face to muffle my shriek as Mark once more took me to the heights, his tongue and talented fingers doing things to me that I could never describe, only ever crave.

The thunder of blood in my ears finally died away and I relaxed my death-grip on the pillow, allowing Mark to pull it away and pull my naked body against his.

"Jeez Tink, you must have really needed that!" he grinned, bending forward to kiss me, his tongue twining with mine as we kissed hard enough to leave bruises. Making love to Mark is, for me, the pinnacle of achievement, my reward to myself for having lost him for so long. The only man for me, the only one who could ever be for me, is my big brother, my darling Mark.

As we kissed, I could feel his hardness bumping me, so I nipped his lip while grabbing that thing, squeezing him to watch the expression on his face, the look in his eyes.

"What are you planning on doing with this thing, then?" I taunted him, knowing full well what I wanted to do, and Mark, playing along with that beautiful grin on his face, straddled me, shuffling up along me until his cock-head was level with my face.

"You know what we both want, Tinkerbell, don't leave me hanging!" he grinned, so I grinned back and slowly, lingeringly licked the slick, glossy tip a couple of times, enjoying his soft gasp, then sucked the bulbous head into my mouth, savouring as always the saltiness, the musky tang, and the faint background sweetness that was so much a part of my man. As I sucked him, his smell wafted over me, that scent-complex unique to him, not sweat, or soap, or cologne, but the clean smell of his skin, the warm freshness of his own bodily oils and secretions, and the faint, salty, ozone tang of the lubricant pouring from the tip of his cock. Mark always smelled fresh to me, like a gentle sea-breeze, and I was addicted to that scent.

As I sucked, I could feel his body tensing and relaxing as he fought the urge to ram that thing in my mouth, to face-fuck me; Mark wouldn't do that to me, which is why I loved giving pleasure to him. While I suckled on him, my hands alternated between squeezing and fisting that gorgeous cock of his, and gently squeezing and stroking his scrotum, urging him to give me what I wanted now. I could hear his breath shortening, and his pulse, drumming in that wand of flesh in my mouth, was rising as his own climax approached, so I sucked harder, wanting the finish, wanting my man to have what he'd just given me.

His breathing was becoming louder, and beginning to hitch as he struggled to hold himself back, prolonging the pleasure I was giving him, and as I squeezed his scrotum I could feel the change as it went from loose bag of skin to tight, ridged saddle under the base of his cock. One more suck and a healthy squeeze of his shaft as I pumped him, and he gasped explosively as his fat cock jumped and twitched in my mouth. 

This was what I'd been waiting for. I clamped my lips around him as a stream of thick creamy spunk jetted out of him and hit the roof of my mouth, then another, then another, filling my mouth and barely giving me time to swallow before I was filled again. Mark's spunk tasted, as always, salty and creamy, with a delightful background tangy sweetness, delicious and wholesome, and though I'd only ever had one other sample for comparison, when I'd thought he was gone forever, I knew this was the taste for me, this was what my man had for me, and it was what I wanted from him, and only him.

The jets of sperm stopped, until only a trickle ran from the end of his cock, but I sucked every last drop out of him and polished the head with my tongue before grinning and sticking my tongue out to show him I was finished. Mark, as always, grinned when I did that.

"You dirty girl!" he smiled, climbing off me to slump down next to me and once more curl his hands around my bum, pulling me closer so our bellies were touching, his still-erect cock sandwiched solidly between us. I raised an eyebrow and grinned at him.

"You love it, Mark Jameson, don't you come it with me!" I retorted, leering at him as I rubbed myself against him, rolling his cock between us and making him gasp. Mark leaned down and kissed me.

"Every time I go away from you and the babies it feels like I'm in free-fall, I feel so lonely and lost, and it doesn't go away until I walk back in the door; coming home always feels like Christmas; promise me it'll always be like this, Tinkerbell!"

I swallowed the suddenly enormous lump in my throat, love for this beautiful boy-man flaring huge and possessive inside me.

"I promise you, Lost Boy, it will, oh it will!"

I couldn't help the tears that spilled down my cheeks as once again the little boy who needed to be held and loved re-surfaced, all the lost days of his stolen childhood showing in his eyes. I'd nearly lost him once; he'd nearly been taken from me forever; he'd even thought the unthinkable, and that fear for him still lurked deep inside me.

"I love you Tinkerbell!" he murmured, wiping my tears away with his thumbs, then pulling me close to kiss me long and tenderly, showing me with his lips what his heart was feeling.

I eventually surfaced for air, my body tingling with the impact of that kiss, aware, too, of the hardness trapped between us. I grinned and reached down to give it an experimental squeeze, seeing the laughter in his eyes as I did.

"What shall we do with this, Peter Pan?" I grinned, the need to have my husband inside me, locked away deep in my body, suddenly rearing up inside me. 

"Are you ready to take me back to Never-Never land, Peter?" I asked him softly, seeing the smile spread across his face, like a new dawn rising.

"Always and always, Tinkerbell!" he breathed, kissing me again as he rolled me onto my back and reared above me, his cock prodding and nudging at my swollen labia, teasing me, torturing me even as I squeezed and fondled him, massaging his balls and making his cock rear up even stiffer, harder, and more angrily engorged. Every time I tried to guide him into me, he grinned and pulled back, instead sawing the ridged underside of his penis against my sensitive, swollen labia, torturing me even more.

"Mark!" I hissed, and once again that smile flowered as he slowly pushed forward, once more stretching me as he slid into me, filling me as only he could, lights flickering in my peripheral vision even as he began fucking me, prelude to the orgasm I knew he'd give me. I began to move against him, meeting him as he thrust into me, those lights flickering brighter now as wonderful feelings uncurled and spread through me, taking me with him as he sped up, pounding into me as I humped madly back up at him, until, with a searing, soundless explosion inside the very centre of me, my orgasm flared through every fibre of my body, all my senses fleeing as the pleasure overtook me. 

Dimly I heard his groan as I tightened around him, but the sensation of his cock swelling inside me and pumping me full of his own special tribute was real, and present, the feel of his body-heat pouring into me cutting through all and telling me that my man was here, with me, making love to me, because he loved me. That knowledge alone was enough to send me off again, Mark groaning as I tightened around him again and again, milking him of every drop of his male essence, wringing him dry.

We lay in the afterglow, Mark next to me, holding me close against him, while I rested my head on his chest, rejoicing in the nearness of him, the warmth of him against me and the sound of his heart beating, the realisation of the dream I'd once thought gone forever. I was drifting away, warm and comfortable, when Mark stirred restlessly. I know his moods and manners intimately, so I knew he had something to say, maybe not important, but it was bugging him, so I rolled onto my side so I could look into his lovely, dove-grey eyes and maybe get him to share.




Lost Girl: Julie's Story Ch. 03 Pt. 01



"What's up, Lost Boy, bad day at the office?" I opened, giving him a chance to tell me what was on his mind.

He looked pensive for a moment, then his eyes focussed back on me.

"It's nothing, Tink, really, just...odd." 

I quirked an eyebrow at him, indicating he should go on, so he did.

"It's just something strange that happened in the pub at lunchtime. I walked over to 'The Colston Arms' pub near the Bristol Royal Infirmary to get a pub lunch, and I was just about to bite into my sandwich when this guy slapped me on the back, calling me 'Darryl', and asking how someone called 'Lena' was, then he took a good look at me and went all red and embarrassed and apologised profusely; obviously he'd mistaken me for someone else, but it got me thinking."

I waited, as he was still ravelling a thread, but I didn't see what he was so disturbed about. He put his arm around me and held me closer, chewing his lip distractedly while staring at nothing.

"And..." I prompted, breaking him out of his reverie.

"This is not the first time, either; I usually eat in one or other of the pubs around the Bristol Royal Infirmary, because the office is on St. Michael's Street, just behind the hospital, and this has happened at least half a dozen times over the last couple of years; it's not just people doing a double-take or something, either; they've been literally nose to nose before they realise I'm not this 'Darryl' person." 

He shivered, and I pulled myself closer to him.

"It's weird, Tink, and it's starting to freak me out; there's someone wandering around Clifton with my face, and it's an eerie feeling. Supposing I turn a corner and walk right into this guy; aren't you supposed to die when you meet your doppelganger? What do they call it? Your 'Fetch' that was it; it was a story I read in a book of folklore when I was a kid, and it scared the shit out of me, it still does. What if it's true?" 

I stared at him, but bit back the sarcastic comment; he was really freaked by this, so instead I grinned and bit his ear.

"You better hope there isn't another one of you out there; otherwise I might be tempted to look him up, just to see if he got the same bits you did!" As I said that, I tweaked his cock, making him jump and grin, and bore in, that light in his eyes that told me he was going to tickle me.

He did, for a while, but then he discovered something even more interesting to do, and tired me out in the best possible way. Funny thing, though, as he was ramming that lovely thick cock of his deep into me, I had a momentary image, or vision, of him sitting in a waiting room or office with his double, both of them talking animatedly, then both of them looking at me, but his double was older than him, with green eyes; it was only a momentary flash, but it put me off my stride for a second; why had I imagined Mark's double with my eyes? Mark noticed my distraction and chose to concentrate me by slipping a finger into my bum and frigging it, something guaranteed to get my attention!

I slept late the next morning, not even stirring when Mark took the girls over to Mummy-Anh's house so she and Dada Morrison could spoil them for a while, and to give Mark and me some time to play as well.

*

DARRYL:

I was almost late for work this morning; I suppose I could have made an extra-special effort, but when you have a wife like Lena needing "just one more hug, baby, pleeaase!" who can really blame me? I didn't blame her at all for clinging a little; we were two surgeons down on the board, with another due to retire, so everyone was backing and filling to try and prevent an unacceptable backlog building up. 

These days all we ever had were lectures from the Hospital Trust about 'Cumulative Targets', costs per patient unit, Clinical Excellence, Core Competencies, Priority Categories, and care at the Point of Need, but no mention of getting in additional surgical staff to relieve the stress the Trust was putting the remaining staff under to try and offset government targets on waiting times. So we worked longer hours, and added more and more cases to each of our boards, and tried to work our way through, while still trying to have some semblance of family life.

Lena knew I was tired, that there were days I was so dog-tired and dispirited I really just considered packing it all in and applying for a post at a local General Practice surgery; sometimes the thought of handing out prescriptions for ointment to haemorrhoidal old women seemed infinitely more attractive than standing in the Operating Theatre for fourteen hours a day, with more of the same the following day, and no end in sight. 

Then I remembered why I was doing this; it was for Lena, like everything I did, because she'd believed in me, and loved me enough to put up with it, and for our children, our little boy, David, and our baby daughter, Maureen, little Mo-Mo, an adorable miniature of Lena as I remember her when she was tiny, only with white-blonde hair, not chestnut, and green eyes, not blue, genetic traits from my side of the family. 

And how do I remember Lena when she was tiny, you may well ask? Because I grew up with her, that's why; we grew up together thinking she was my little sister; in actuality she was my aunt, but now she's my wife, pure and simple, nothing else, the love of my life, and the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. 

So I slogged on, on my feet most of that long, long day, but when I walked into the Operating Theatre, and the next patient was rolled in for the team, prepped and ready, the weariness and disillusionment fell away, and the training kicked-in. 

Once I escaped from the scrub room, though, the weariness dropped onto me; me and everyone else there, from the scrub-nurses to the Anaesthetist, to the closing team; we were all under pressure, and there seemed no respite, and we bitched and moaned, but we'd still come back tomorrow and do it all over again. But not me; I had a whole two days off, oh bliss!

It was long past dark when I got home. Lena was waiting for me, wearing her favourite robe, a light, diaphanous confection, but the house seemed unusually quiet; no sounds of children, no sense of their presence, no mum, no TV burbling in the background, just Lena. I looked quizzically at her, and she smiled that triumphant little cat-smile she gets when she's pulled one over on me.

"Mum took them to Lizzie's place; she thinks we need some time together, so tonight, Doctor Darryl, it's just me..."

She stood up and let her robe slip to the floor; she was naked, her pale skin flamed to golden by the warm light from the single table lamp illuminating the room and making her chestnut hair glow a deep and intense russet brown. Seeing my lovely wife like that shrugged the weariness off me in a heartbeat; now I wanted her, like I'd never wanted her before. 

Lena is unchanged by four years of marriage and motherhood; she still looks exactly like the slim girl I married, the girl who ran away from home with me one fateful night four years ago, her skin still taut and clear, more like a young girl than a mother of two. Her blue eyes were dazzlingly bright and alluring, her round breasts still firm and jutting, crowned with perfect, coral-pink nipples for me to fondle, squeeze and suckle, her crimson lips still beckoned me with promises of kisses and more.

"You've been working far too hard, baby," she murmured, "so I thought you needed a little playtime. Are you ready to play with me, Darryl? We can play 'doctors and nurses'; you can examine me, and I'll take care of any swelling, how's that?"

My cock was like an iron bar as she finished, that secret little smile of hers all I needed to tell me she knew exactly what she was doing to me. I opened my mouth to frame a suitably lewd reply, and suddenly she was in my arms, her arms around my neck as she kissed me, her body warm and lithe, soft and firm in my grasp, the scent of her hair and the taste of her lips beyond anything I can think of to compare them with. Being kissed by Lena is a production number, and right now she was putting all her effort into it, and it was working, to judge by the truly astonishing erection I had suddenly grown, something she was quick to notice.

Lena smiled minxily as her hand slipped down to brush against my straining erection.

"Oh look, Doctor, you're far too tense, would you like a special massage to relieve the swelling?" she cooed, her eyes hooded as she made a moue, her lips pursed in mock disapproval, but all I could think of was how heavenly it would be to kiss those lips, to run my hands over that clear skin, to hold those breasts in my hands and squeeze the nipples gently, to squeeze and hold those firm, rippling bum-cheeks apart as I held her and pounded into her, equal parts lust, desire and love churning in me as my gorgeous wife tempted me.

I managed to nod, and Lena slipped out of my grasp, leaving behind the merest hint of a kiss as she dodged me, instead sliding to her knees and fumbling with my belt buckle. I attempted to help her, but she slapped me gently on the hand.

"Ah-ah, naughty-naughty, Doctor Darryl. This is Nurse Lena's job!"

I grinned happily.

"What a wonderful wife I have; who knew she'd be so talented!"

Lena drew back and looked up at me, her eyes large and luminous in the soft golden light, and her expression sly and wanton, even as she unzipped me and reached into my shorts to squeeze and fondle me.

"Tonight you have no wife, Dar; tonight all you have is your dirty, slutty little sister! I told you once, a long time ago, that I would never let my big brother go, that I'd keep him safe and locked away inside me until I needed him; well guess what? Tonight that's who I need, so that's all you are, and one way or another, my big brother Darryl's going to fuck hell out of his naughty, dirty, slutty baby sister, and enjoy every sleazy, sordid, filthy second of it! Am I getting through to you?"

She gave my already throbbing cock an extra squeeze to emphasize her point, but she needn't have bothered; she'd gotten through to me alright. Long ago, I'd given her an ultimatum, a selfish and self-centered choice that eased my mind over what we were doing; be my sister, and walk away, or be my wife, and forget she was my sister. Lena had chosen to deny the 'sister' part of herself, because she wanted me, and because that was what I wanted. 

Now I finally understood how wrong that was, what I'd forced her to give up; Lena was my sister, she always had been, as well as my wife, and more, and I'd been wrong to not even try and see her that way. 

Now, as I let that go, my cock was like an iron bar at the thought of finally fucking my little sister, all the inhibitions and conditions I'd made when we first embarked on our life together completely forgotten; now Lena was my beautiful, desirable baby sister, she was on her knees in front of me in all her naked splendour, and all I wanted to do was shove my cock in her mouth, fuck her face, then use all her other holes and punish her with pleasure for being such a naughty, dirty, slutty little girl!

Lena grinned as she caught the change in me, her dream from all those years ago finally becoming reality; now she could finally live her fondest dream, to be fucked, hard, by her big brother, the one thing she'd always wanted, and the one thing I'd always been unable to let her have, because my head didn't work that way. 

Now that had all changed; my head had suddenly changed, and when I looked at her, it was like the old trick drawing; was it a vase or two faces in profile? Suddenly I was seeing both aspects of her, and with that the separate images of sister and wife finally came together and into focus, and they were both Lena; desirable, enthralling, beautiful far beyond what I deserved, and both mine for the taking.

But not tonight; tonight my wife was 'somewhere else', and she'd left my naughty little sister in her place to pleasure me...

Lena grinned as she tugged my trousers down, making sure she rubbed and squeezed me through the material of my shorts, keeping me focussed as I tugged off my shirt and dropped it on the floor. Lena helped me out of my trousers, and now I was standing in only my shorts, toeing-off my shoes as she squeezed and groped the obscene tent in the front of my shorts.

"Ooohh look, is that all for me?" she cooed, knowing full well what her voice and hands were doing to me.

By now I was almost bursting with the need to do something, anything, to her; I wanted her to suck me, squeeze me, toss me off, anything to relieve the pressure building inside me. Lena obviously sensed the need raging in me, her sensitive fingers picking up the ripples and tremors of my straining muscles. The smile on her face as she slid my shorts down was triumphant; she had me where she wanted me, and she knew I knew it too. 

Once she'd tugged my shorts all the way down, she smiled up at me, that slow, delicious smile of hers, full of love and mischief, then slowly licked my straining cockhead, just the merest touch with her little pink tongue-tip, but enough to send a thrilling shock through me. She did it again, feeling me responding to her, and when her lips finally encircled the head of my cock as she sucked me into her mouth, I nearly went-off there and then. Lena sensed my excitement, and scraped my perineum with her fingernail, not enough to hurt, but enough to back me off a little.

"Calm down, big brother of mine, we have all evening!" she husked, looking up at me with those stunning blue eyes of hers. When she had my full attention, she smiled a slow, naughty smile, and once more slid her crimson lips over the head of my straining cock.

Now she began to suck in earnest, the heat of her mouth a treat and a curse all at once; it was too much pleasure, especially combined with the delightful suction as she sucked my cock, once again almost making me blow my load. I knew she had more to offer, so I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the wonderful sensations as she sucked me, her teeth barely grazing me as she worked me in and out of her mouth, until she was bobbing rapidly, sucking as she did, and it was making my brain melt; all I wanted to do right there and then was let go and keep shooting until I collapsed; all thoughts of anything else had fled by now, and there was only her, and the hot, insistent suction, and my building climax.

Lena must have known she'd taken me right to the brink, because she stopped, looking up at me once more with that mysterious, almost cat-like smile on her lips.

"Are you ready now, big brother?" she murmured, and I nodded in agreement, still too ramped-up to speak coherently. She grinned again, once more that slow, liquid smile that melted my resolve and turned my spine into hot jelly whenever she used it on me

"Good. Come here, baby, Nurse Lena has something for you!" 

With that I helped her to her feet and she led me to the big couch. I noticed in passing that it was piled with pillows and quilts, but Lena was still occupying all my attention; the view of her walking away from me was almost unbearably arousing, her perfect bottom calling out to me to do all kinds of naughty things to her. 

Lena plumped up some of the pillows, then lay down on the couch, reclining with her head in her hand, and looked up at me, her eyes huge and luminous, the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"Darryl, I've loved you every day of my life, in every way it's possible to love someone. I love my big brother, now come here and love me the way I want; be my brother again, make love to me and make me your little sister once more!"

I'd thought my cock was erect before, but that was nothing compared to the aching rigidity now as my need for her flamed up higher and hotter than ever. I slid onto the couch next to her, my hands once more sliding over her satin-smooth skin, once more feeling the warm vitality of my girl under my probing, stroking hands. Lena pulled me closer, my need now apparent in her eyes too, recognition that we both wanted the same thing, and as I slid over her, our lips met, sealing us together as our tongues fenced and swirled. I broke our kiss to look at her, bathed in the golden light, drinking in the sight of this beautiful girl, my wife, my sister, and as I dipped down to kiss her again, I slipped into her wet heat, sliding into her until our pubic bones bumped together, filling her with myself.

Lena gasped against me as I pushed my way into her, her smooth thighs lifting to clasp and hold me as I mounted her, her hips lifting to meet me, and as I withdrew, so she dropped away, to meet me again, and again, as we made love silently, our lips sealed together as our hips clashed and drew apart again and again. Her pussy rippled along the length of my cock, tightening and squeezing rhythmically as she orgasmed continuously, the taboo act we'd finally allowed ourselves to admit increasing the erotic charge sparking between us. 

Lena's breath was coming in sharp gasps now, and her heart was drumming against my chest as I rammed myself into her, her climax close. Mine was also close, so close, all it would take would be just one more thing and I would be over that edge with her. And then suddenly we were both there. Lena's eyes squeezed tightly shut as she screamed piercingly, her pussy convulsing and clamping around my pumping cock, stopping me in my tracks, the constriction finally tipping me over the edge as I came like I had never done before.

My body went rigid, sweet painless agony pulsing and throbbing through me as I shot bolt after bolt of hot sperm deep inside her. Never before had I come so hard or so much, or so it seemed as I poured into her, all my senses muted as the feeling of joining with her took over my body, until, at last, I slumped down next to her. My heart was racing, hammering in my chest, and I gasped and shuddered, finally understanding the connection so many writers had made between orgasm and death.

Lena turned to me, her soft lips nibbling my neck as she rubbed my chest, soothing me, calming me after my storm, until I was finally able to draw a normal, if somewhat shaky breath.

"Christ Almighty, that was amazing, baby, what did you do to me?" I grinned. 

Lena leaned over and kissed me, then grinned her usual, impish grin.

"You bedded your baby sister, that's what it was, you nasty man; you finally let yourself go and pumped all your nasty stuff into your dirty, slutty, sordid little sister, and you loved it! Just think, you came so hard inside her, you may even have given her a baby!"

I looked up at her, at her smile, and realised she wasn't joking.

"Is that what you want, Princess, another baby?" I asked her, and smiled at her slow nod.

"So that's what all this seduction was about! You didn't need to, you know; you know I love making babies with you, Lena; look how well we've done so far! You didn't have to ambush me, Princess; nice as it was, a vague hint would have done the job; you know how I feel about you every second of the day!"

Lena grinned, again that impish, impudent grin she has when she's happy.

"I know, but it was so much fun this way, plus I got to play with my big brother again!" 

Her eyes became wistful, far-away for a moment, and I realised what this evening had meant to her. I pulled her close and nibbled her ear, something she loves, while finally accepting that I'd turned a corner in my head, and the pledge I'd made her take so long ago about who and what we were was finally gone and forgotten.

"Tell you what," I whispered, "anytime you need your big brother back, you just come and see me, I'll go get him, okay?"

Lena looked at me, her eyes big.

""You'd do that for me, Dar? Really? Thank you baby, thank you!""

I kissed her on the tip of her nose.




Lost Girl: Julie's Story Ch. 03 Pt. 01



"No, thank you, Lena. I finally worked out who I really am; I'm your husband, I'm David and Mo-Mo's daddy, and, when you need him, I'm your big brother too. I almost lost you once, Lena, because I was too stupid and immature to listen to what you were trying to tell me. I'll never let anything come between us again, and so, when you need your big brother to scare away the monsters, or to be your best friend again, or to fuck you rigid, he'll be there, I promise."

Lena's eyes filled, two big tears running down her cheeks even as she smiled happily at me.

"Even if you are my big brother, I'm so glad I married you!" she chuckled, laying her head on my chest as I hugged her to me.

It was wonderful to just lie there, naked, uninhibited, no chance of the children wandering in and seeing us 'au naturelle', no getting up to sort out feeds, drinks of water, lost teddy-bears, or any one of the hundred and one things that made up the rattle and hum of our daily lives; tonight it was my darling girl and me, alone and at peace, basking in each others' full attention. 

I was just beginning to doze when Lena's fingers drummed on my chest.

"Dar, I almost forgot, there was something I wanted to tell you; Emma dropped-by this morning. She had a day off, so we took the kids for a stroll through The Birdcage, had a coffee, you know, the usual. Anyway, when we got back, I started lunch while she put the kids down for their naps, and I came in to ask her something, and she had Mo-Mo and she was staring at her; poor thing, she was crying. Of course I asked her what was wrong, and at first she was all dismissive, she wouldn't say anything, then it all came out in a rush; she was remembering holding your cousin Julie just like that; apparently Mo-Mo looks like Julie at that age, the last time she saw her, the same smile, everything, and it brought it all back for her; how she thinks she didn't do enough to get Julie and Mark away from your aunt Sandra, and how worried she was that something had happened to both those kids, and if it had, it would all be her fault for not trying hard enough to get them somewhere safe."

Lena paused, her eyes far away as she gathered her thoughts.

"Of course I told her it was all nonsense, that I knew she would have done her best to help them, but she wouldn't have it. Dar, you promised her one day you'd try and find out what happened to Julie and Mark. They're your family; maybe they need help, or maybe they're beyond help now, God forbid. Either way, Emma needs to know; they're her family too, and she's carried this around for over twenty years now, and it's too much guilt for her to carry around; she tried; now I think it's time we started trying, too. We need to start making some enquiries, some sort of effort to find those kids; Emma's done so much for us, for you; this is the least we can do for her." 

I find it impossible to refuse Lena anything; she knows this, so makes a point of never asking me to do things for her; for her to ask me this showed just how concerned she was for Emma, bless her, so of course what could I do but agree? Besides, she was right; I owed Emma that much, at least; apart from my other aunt all the way over in Sydney, Australia, Emma was the only family I had on my father's side, my biological father's younger sister, and an important part of my family. 

I smiled at Lena, and kissed her once more for being so thoughtful.

"I'll give Georgie Patterson a ring in the morning. You remember her, don't you? She studied for the Intercollegiate with me. She's the Paediatric Registrar over at St George's now, which is the last place we know for certain Julie was; Georgie's mum is Custodian of Patient Records there, too, and Georgie's a good friend, I know she'll help if I ask her. She'll have to work on her mum for me, though, because I hope you're aware, young lady, patient records are confidential and sealed under the Data Protection Act. Maybe she can 'accidentally' dig-out an address, somewhere to jump-off from. It's all I can think of right now, but I don't know where else to begin."

Lena slid herself on top of me, holding my face between both hands so she could kiss me.

"Thank you Dar, this will mean so much to Emma!" she breathed, wriggling on top of me in a way that started all kinds of other interesting things happening. My hands found themselves clutching her deliciously firm, jiggly little bottom, their favourite resting-place, and Lena's wriggling became more concerted, our sexes rubbing together and becoming excited again. Lena lifted her head to look me in the eyes, the look in her own eyes mysterious and sultry.

"Dar, I wasn't joking about a baby, you know..." she murmured, gently grinding and rubbing against me.

I grinned back at her as I pulled her even tighter against me, Lena gasping as my now fully erect cock pressed against her still-swollen pussy.

"I know, baby sister, I know...and, just for the record, neither was I..." I murmured as I slowly pushed into her once again, taking full advantage of the opportunity to fuck my little sister all over again.

*

JULIE:

Mark seemed to have forgotten about his unsettling encounter the following morning; when he arrived back from Mummy-Anh's house, he found me freshly-showered and cooking breakfast, which he ate with gusto, while completely neglecting to tell me he'd already had breakfast at Mummy-Anh's house; she believes that food is a sacrament, and sharing is a duty, so anyone who walks into her house invariably gets a loaded plate thrust at them and an injunction to "eat, eat, it is good for you, you are so thin, please to eat, now!" Dada Morrison had gotten used to seeing the postman, the milkman, the newspaper boy, and, on one memorable occasion, some bloke whose parrot had escaped and flown into their back-garden, sitting at the kitchen table and stuffing Mummy-Anh's wonderful cooking into their faces.

Mark, of course, like that other walking stomach, Jamie, never says no to a plate of grub, and, as he'd skipped dinner the night before, I let him off the hook this time, but with a stern injunction not to go scrounging at Mummy-Anh's, which he'll ignore, of course. But for now, he was stuffed, the kids were with their grandparents, and I had my golden-haired hunk to myself for the next few hours, while Mummy-Anh walked around with Nia on her hip, both of them yakking away in Vietnamese, while Markie and little Jamie and Laura, Nia's twins, used Dada Morrison as an impromptu climbing-frame, hobby-horse, bouncy-castle, and occasional garden-swing.

Mark waited for me to finish my breakfast, but he had that look in his eye, the one that told me he needed a little time with me, so I made haste; Mark isn't normally demanding or possessive of my time; as long as I'm nearby, within earshot or touching distance he's at ease and calm in himself; he knows I have a house to mind and two little ones to care for, but occasionally I pick up on his need for a little cuddling time too, especially after he's had to spend time away from us at the Bristol office, and now was one of those times.

"Do you want to go somewhere more comfortable, Lost Boy?" I asked him softly, and he nodded gratefully, so I took his hand and led him back up to the bedroom; if we were going to pillow-talk, I damn well wanted some pillows to do it on.

Once we were stripped-off, I climbed into bed and beckoned him over, Mark grinning as he slid in next to me so I could run my hands over him, to once again feel and stroke and luxuriate in the nearness of him and lose myself in his alluring scent complex. (All through both my pregnancies I had to cover my pillows with his shirts so I could smell him while I slept, something that amused him no end, as he could smell nothing, but I could have tracked him on a pitch-black, windy night by that scent; I still can; I love how my man smells.)

Mark seemed to feel the same way I did, spooning me close, his warm hands roaming gently over my flanks, my tummy, cupping my breasts and gently brushing my nipples, then slipping down to cup my pussy and stroke my inner thighs, while his lips nuzzled gently at my neck, not to excite or arouse me, just keeping contact, maintaining that closeness that was so much a part of who we were.

As we lay there we talked, about the children, his work, our plans, some of the good memories of our childhood (and we did have those, too, despite what our mother had been like; mine all revolved around Mark, who'd done his level best to bring me up despite being just a little boy himself, my teenage crush on Jamie Morrison, the day I realised what I was feeling for Jamie was nothing compared to what I felt for my brother, all those things we'd done together...) 

While we talked, the memory rose up again of his face when he'd told me about his double, the flash of real fear I'd seen there, the memories of the little boy suddenly gripping the man, and a sudden thought struck me, literally an idea out of nowhere.

"Mark, about what you told me last night; you've been mistaken for this other bloke in Bristol, this 'Darryl' person, time and again, yes?"

Mark grunted assent, not really wanting to talk about it, I knew.

"Supposing he looks so much like you because he's some kind of relative? What if we have a relative wandering around Bristol? After all, we don't know where mum came from, or if she had any family, nothing about her at all; all we know is she was born in somewhere called 'South Mead'; what if this 'Darryl' is one of her relatives?"

I was guessing this bloke might be mum's relative; much as it pained me to admit it, Mark and I looked a hell of a lot like her. I even had her green eyes, so it was unlikely he was some relation of Mark's father (or mine, I suppose...), not if people were mistaking Mark for him.

Mark sighed softly.

"Then I don't want to know; she's dead and gone, and her past is gone with her, and that's just fine by me; where were they when we were young and really needed them, how come we never saw hide nor hair of them? We have Mum and Dad Morrison, Jamie and Nia, Shelagh, Bethany and Corey; they're our family, they're the ones we turn to, and they're the only ones I care about!"

I wasn't done, though; the whole idea intrigued the hell out of me.

"Mark, what if this 'Darryl' guy is our relative but he doesn't know it, what then?"

Mark pulled me closer, and when he spoke I could hear the finality in his voice.

"Then it doesn't matter, Tink; let sleeping dogs lie, it's better this way. We have our family. They're the ones that matter; they're the ones we love and keep close. That's enough for me, and it should be enough for you, too. Let it go, Tink, please!"

I knew him better than to try and pursue this conversation any further; besides, he was right; we lived in the middle of a warm and loving family circle, we didn't need 'what if' to make our lives complete. Still... 

*

DARRYL:

Work over the next few weeks kept my nose more or less to the grindstone, with only the knowledge that Lena, David and Mo-Mo were waiting for me at the end of each day keeping me going. I was really starting to flag; the relentless workload was beginning to tell on all of us; then suddenly the Trust reversed its position and started cutting elective surgery patients off the waiting lists, only allowing medically sanctioned surgery to be carried out. Suddenly I was working a 40-hour week again, the vacant posts in the surgical team were being advertised, and I had time to spend my weekends with my beautiful wife and kids again.

The weekend after I'd worked my first normal week in God knows how long, I woke with a sense of happy well-being at the thought of no work for two whole days, and an even more pleasurable feeling lower down; Lena had me in her mouth, and the warm wetness was what had woken me. As I opened my eyes, she looked up at me, her brilliant blue eyes wide and innocent, and completely at odds with her devilish grin as she suckled on me.

"Hi sweetheart, can I help you?" I grinned, with Lena grinning back at me as she slid her lips off my swollen cock.

"Now you're awake, Dar, I want you to do something for me!" she smiled, that slow, dirty smile she does so well, and I felt my spine prickling with anticipation.

"Anything for you, Princess, you know that!" I replied.

Lena slid up and on top of me, her lips a fraction of an inch from mine.

"I want my big brother to fuck me really hard!" she murmured, a wicked grin on her lips. "I want you to shove your big cock inside me and make babies in me, in your naughty, slutty little sister!"

As she spoke, she squeezed and rubbed me, turning my already respectable erection into a throbbing, blue-steel hard-on; Lena has that effect on me. I pulled her closer by the simple expedient of clenching her taut buttocks and pulling her up to me, our lips meeting in a most enjoyable kiss, while she rolled her stomach against mine, squeezing my trapped erection between us.

"Lift up, baby", I instructed, but she shook her head.

"No Dar, I want to do it this way..."

So saying, she slipped off me and knelt-up on the bed, holding the headboard as she stuck her round and juicy little rump out. I needed no second prompting, and quickly got into position behind her, kissing and nibbling her neck while my hands squeezed her breasts and rubbed her nipples, before drifting down to lightly rub at her hooded clitoris, making her gasp and press back against me.

I was enjoying myself, my cock wedged between her plush bum cheeks while I squeezed and manhandled her delightfully firm tits, Lena making little mewing sounds as I did something she especially liked, until finally she'd had enough.

"Now Dar, do it now..." she moaned, taking hold of me. I needed no further prompting, pushing forward as she aimed me, and we both groaned as I slid into her up to the hilt, my senses reeling at the feeling of my cock buried in her hot, lush succulence. I pulled back and slid in again, listening to her muttering and gasping as we fucked.

"Yess, like that, oh God, like that, yess, yesss!" she muttered constantly, her round buttocks bouncing against me as I rammed into her as hard as I could, holding and squeezing her breasts as I pummeled her. I could feel her hand as she rubbed herself while I pumped her. For some reason the thought of her and what she was doing made me even hotter, but when she started talking to me was when I lost it.

"Oh yes, Dar, that's it, fill me up, put your baby in me, you know you want to, fill me up, lover, shove that big-brother cock into me, make your sister pregnant, you know you want to..!" 

I lost all control over what I was doing. All I wanted to do was to fill her with myself, to pump my seed into her and fill her with my baby. I think she sensed what she was doing to me, and that's what tipped her over the edge; I felt her body stiffen, and her pussy clamp down tight around me as she gave a loud, gasping groan. As her pussy tightened around me, holding me in place, I lost all restraint, my own orgasm blazing through me, blurring my vision and dulling my hearing with the intensity of it. 

I groaned out loud as jet after jet of semen pulsed out of me, spraying deep into her, filling her to the brim with my seed. Lena pressed back against me as her pussy convulsed, each contraction milking more sperm from me, until I had no more to give.

I pulled her back to lean against me, my hands still clamped on her breasts, our hearts hammering together from the force of our release. At some point I let go of her so I could lie down; I was absolutely bushed, and an almost overwhelming need to sleep was on me. Lena also lay down, but with her feet up on the headboard. I grinned at her, and asked her what she was doing. She grinned cheekily back at me.

"I don't want any of you leaking out of me, babe, so this is the best way to keep it all inside me; I really want this baby!"

I had to smile, even in my exhausted state, closed my eyes, and that was all she wrote.

I came half-awake with the sound of my phone ringing and Lena answering it; I heard some muffled conversation, then she was nudging me.

"Dar, Dar, wake up, Dar, it's Georgie Patterson, she wants to talk to you. Dar!"

Still fuddled by sleep, I couldn't work out who the hell Georgie Patterson was, or why she was calling me, then it suddenly fell into place, jolting me into full wakefulness; I'd asked her to do some digging for me in the Patient's Records library, maybe she'd found something...

"Georgie, hi, what are you doing calling at such an ungodly hour?" I grinned, expecting a verbal raspberry back.

"Darryl, good morning!" she sang in my ear. "Was that the delicious Lena answering the phone? She must be sick of you by now; when's she going to realise the truth and come see me for some real loving?"

Georgie is a beautiful girl, tall and willowy, with huge, melting, Bambi eyes, long, golden-brown hair, and bee-stung lips, the cause of many an unrelieved erection in the lecture halls, and a completely committed, very definite lesbian, not so much predatory as eternally hopeful ever since she'd first clapped eyes on Lena.

I just grinned; we'd played this game for years, and she knew the rules.

"Down, girl, behave yourself, no touchy-touchy, remember? Behave!"

I could hear her pout over the phone.

"You know what, Dar? One day you'll take your shifty little eyes off that gorgeous little poppet, and poofff! She'll be mine, go on, admit it, you know it's true; be afraid, Dar, be very afraid!"

I had to give her 8 out of 10 for persistence and optimism, but we both knew it would never happen; Lena was mine, and I was hers, and we both knew it.

"Okay Georgie, fun's over, why don't you pull your knickers back up and tell me why you called?"

Georgie laughed, that lovely tinkle that had once had half the student body (and most of the lecturers) drooling over her, alas to no avail.

"I had a word with mum about your request, so she went and did a little out-of-hours snooping; I'm sorry, Dar, she couldn't turn up anything, but not to worry, she'll keep on digging; a lot of the records libraries across the Trust are still being consolidated and transferred to disk, so her records may yet turn up. Sorry I couldn't do anything further, Dar, really, I know this means a lot to you."

We bantered a little more, then Georgie had to go, and I started to climb out of bed, anxious to grab a shower and then call Emma to let her know we'd fallen at the first fence, but we weren't done yet, when I felt Lena's hand on my shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going, Mister?" she asked in a stern voice.

"I'm getting a shower, then I'm..." I trailed off as she slowly shook her head.

"The kids are fast asleep, it's a beautiful morning, and I'm full of the joys of spring; all I need now to make it a perfect morning is for you to fill me up with other things. Are you ready, Dar? First things first, baby!"

How could I resist her when she put it like that? I did have all day, after all, and she was definitely right about one thing; first things first...

*

Over the course of the summer false hope after false hope surfaced, only to be dashed; each girl we found was too young, too old, wrong ethnicity, had no siblings, or too many siblings, wrong hair/eye colour, a long trail of dead-ends and missing links. Emma took it all well; poor girl, she was just happy that someone was helping her at last. 

She felt she had a lot to atone for, no matter what Lizzie, Lena, her own kids, or I told her; she'd got it into her head she'd abandoned Mark and Julie when they'd needed her, and our 'one-step forward, two steps back' lack of progress was slowly wearing her down. We'd even recruited Aunt Doreen, and at the weekends she and Allie, almost 17 now, the spitting image of Lena, and a real head-turner, would scour the internet looking for clues, all to no avail.




Lost Girl: Julie's Story Ch. 03 Pt. 02



This is the very last part of both 'Lost Girl;, and also brings down the curtain on the 'Big Girls Don't Cry' story thread, so I apologise in advance if it seems a little long, it's actually two chapters in one.

My heartfelt thanks go to GrandTeton, who edited, commented, and once again showed me that punctuation is the mark of the civilised writer; without it, in its proper place, all is just shouting, so thank you Ken, your assistance is all that made this story possible.

Once again, please remember this is my world, which is not necessarily the 'real' world, so things happen the way I want or need them to. 

Please vote if you liked it, or tell me if you didn't, email mail me if you want, I answer all emails (but not necessarily the death-threats; my wife deals with those...) and don't forget to leave your name if you would like a reply.

Please read, enjoy and wish Julie a long and happy life, I certainly do.

beachbum1958

*****

DARRYL:

When I told Lena about the strange, almost surreal, conversation I'd had with the lady in London, and shared my suspicions that she knew a whole lot more about Julie and Mark than she was letting on, Lena nodded slowly, agreeing with me that the conversation had been strange, almost in code.

"You're right, Dar, it sounds like she does know more, but maybe she has reasons of her own; maybe your cousins have been hurt, or taken advantage of by family. Maybe she's hiding them to keep them safe, did you think of that? If her address was given as that place, maybe she lived there, maybe still does, or at least keeps in contact; could they maybe have been in placed care with her?" 

She [paused to twinkle at me, he special "I know something you don't know!" grin. 

"Look Dar, we can't possibly second-guess her; when she's ready to talk, I have a feeling she'll let us know; until then, you tried, you did your best, now you'll have to wait and see. And when you come home tonight, I might have a little surprise for you...!

Work that day seemed to fly by, as I wondered what the surprise Lena had for me was, although I knew what I wanted it to be, oh yes! When I got home, I was half expecting a replay of the seduction scene she'd laid on for me once before, so I was a little disappointed, but not too much; she was wearing a brief, figure-hugging minidress, sheer stockings, and elegant platform pumps, making her already long legs look endless, scenic and incredibly sexy. 

I whistled appreciatively, Lena dimpling and doing a twirl to show me the full package, and once again I was overwhelmed with just how sexy my wife was; she looked like a teenage vamp out on the prowl, not a mother of two in her late twenties, and I mentally congratulated myself for capturing her (although, really it was the other way round; she'd wanted me from the beginning, and finally, after an extended battle with my immaturity, had reeled me in).

"Wow, Princess, you look good enough to eat; in fact, I might just do that! What's the occasion?"

Lena smiled that slow, seductive smile she does so well.

"You're taking me to dinner, then we're going dancing, and then...who knows?" she purred, "So hurry up, Dar, you smell like a doctor, shower and change, please, we have reservations in 40 minutes, chop-chop!"

"What about the kids...?" I trailed off as she smiled again.

"Don't worry, they're with Emma, and Mum's babysitting Marcus while Lizzie's at work, so everything's fine. Hurry up Dar, clock's ticking!"

So I 'hurried-up' and 20 minutes later, shaved, showered, shampooed and smelling manly, I pointed the car in the direction of Whiteladies Road, as Lena couldn't possibly walk that far in those shoes. The restaurant was a fusion of South-East Asian cuisine with Australian barbecue, unique, tasty and plentiful. Lena discovered she loved the huge Tiger Prawns grilled in a coconut, chilli and pineapple sauce, with dozens of little accompaniments, coconut steamed rice, and Ice Kachang for dessert. Once we'd finished dinner, we took to the road again, to a club Allie told her about, in Redland, where we danced for hours to the latest sounds, and retro 1980's and 90's. 

When we eventually arrived home, it was long after 3 a.m. We'd had to take a cab, as the shots were great, but potent, and I'd had a couple more than I should have, although I'd noted in passing without really registering the fact that Lena had only had soft drinks. She didn't want to drive home at that time of night, so we left the car there and took a cab home.

Once we were back indoors, Lena smiled mysteriously as she helped me unbutton my shirt, while I unzipped her, taking the opportunity to grab a feel and a squeeze of her lovely, pneumatic little bum and lovely, firm, bouncy boobs, all the while kissing like we'd never had the chance before. Sure I'd had a few shots, but they'd had no effect on Darryl Jr, and I was hard as a rock as I peeled Lena out of her dress and panties, leaving her hold-up stockings in place because her legs looked so spectacular. 

Lena, meanwhile, had been nibbling my neck as she squeezed and rubbed my cock, making my already thunderous erection even stiffer and thicker, if that was possible. Five years together and four years of marriage had done nothing to diminish the instant lust and need to ravage her I felt every time I gazed on my gorgeous wife/sister/aunt, something Lena knew too well, and took advantage of at every opportunity!

Once we were both naked, I pulled her close to kiss her, my hands squeezing and fondling her bum even as I ground my crotch into hers, making her gasp as our sexes rubbed together. Lena waxed, and the feel of her bare pussy sliding against my rigid cock was one of the things I loved most about our lovemaking. Lena responded by suddenly leaping up, wrapping her arms around my neck as her legs wrapped around my waist.

"Do me like this, Dar!" she hissed in my ear, gently biting all down the length of my jaw as she writhed against me, so I obliged, walking forward to place her back against the wall and lifting her slightly so she could slam herself down on me, making all my nerve-endings sing with the sensation.

"Oh God, yess!" she growled, goading me on to slam into her again, and again, her pussy clasping and squeezing me as she bit my shoulder, taking me higher and higher. My cock felt like an iron bar as I reamed her pussy, slamming into her, her sweat gluing us to the wall as we pounded against each other until we couldn't take any more.

"Ooohh God, Darryl, oooh yesss, fuck me, Darryl, fuck me hard, yesss, harder, HARDER!!" she screamed, her pussy suddenly tightening around me, the sudden constriction setting me off as we orgasmed together, pulse after pulse of spunk shooting deep into her, until I was drained, drenched in sweat, and trembling with fatigue.

Lena slid off me and leaned back against the wall, her chest heaving as she fought for breath.

"I told you once before, baby, if I could bottle what you do to me, I'd make a fortune!" she grinned, draping her arms around me and burying her head in the hollow of my neck. I was in no better shape, only Lena holding me up as my heart hammered like an express train. Somehow we made it back to the bed, to flop down gratefully, content to hold each other while our storms still raged.

Once my heart-rate and breathing had returned to normal, I pulled her closer and jiggled her lovely little bum, making her grin.

"So, Princess, was this my surprise then?" I grinned, and she smiled back, suddenly mysterious and secretive.

"Maybe, Dar, maybe, or perhaps..."

She turned and opened the drawer of her bedside cabinet and scrabbled around inside.

"Close your eyes Dar!" she commanded, so I did, feeling her kneeling up on the bed and looming over me.

"You can open your eyes now, baby!" she whispered, and when I did, the first thing I saw was a white stick in her hand at my eye level; it took me a second to realise I was seeing a positive pregnancy test. I looked at her in hope and she nodded, biting her lip as she tried not to grin.

"That's right Dar, we're pregnant! We're having another baby!"

I whooped and grabbed her, pulling her over me as I showered her with kisses, Lena responding no less enthusiastically, laughing and crying happily, as was I. I pulled her down next to me and held her close so I could bite her lip while I squeezed her bum.

"I told you I like making babies with you!" I grinned, and Lena wriggled against me as she smiled back.

"I know you told me it wasn't possible, baby, but maybe tonight you managed to do the impossible and poked another baby in there tonight, to keep this one company!"

I smiled at that, and squeezed her even closer to me, loving the feel of her so close to me, but unable to stifle a huge yawn.

"Who knows, Princess, maybe you're right..." I mumbled, exertion, a long day, and too many shots finally catching up with me. The last thing I remember is Lena snuggling up and spooning against me, my hands sliding up to cup her delectable boobs, and the scent of her hair as I sleepily contemplated the fact we were having a baby, and that's all she wrote until I was woken by my phone ringing, fumbling and dropping it as the late-morning sunshine lanced into my eyes as I struggled awake.

After some further fumbling and bleary attempts to remember how to answer the damned thing, I finally managed to hit the 'Answer' button, hoping I wasn't being called-in because someone hadn't turned-up for their shift.

"Hello?" I managed, and a young woman's voice answered me.

"Hello, is this Darryl Morgan?"

I nodded, although I don't know why, she couldn't see me.

"Yes, speaking, who's calling, please?"

There was a short pause, then:

"My name is Julie, Julie Jameson; I'm told you've been looking for me. I think you're my cousin..."

*

JULIE:

When Mark came home from work, he found the children asleep, tired-out from their day at the boating lake, and Mummy-Anh helping me cook dinner; actually, she's a superb cook, so it was more or less the other way round. Mark's eyes lit up; he's a walking stomach at the best of times, and he likes to spend his spare time at the Morrison house stuffing his face, with Mummy happily feeding him past the point where he should have exploded, so he knew right away that he was getting a special dinner if Mum was cooking it for him. 

She, of course, was all over him immediately he walked in, and he lapped it up; Mummy has a special place in her heart for Mark, she always had, and now she'd explained to me what I should have seen all along, I saw their interaction in a whole new light; she actually mothered him, genuinely mothered and loved him, something our own lush of a mother had never bothered to do, and poor Mark was lapping-up and loving every second of it.

While we ate, I could tell Mark was picking up on the fact Mum and I had something to say to him, but he kept his peace; if it was something bad, one of us would have said something long before we sat down, so he waited, opting to enjoy dinner before the pow-wow he knew was coming. 

Outwardly, at least, all was fine; Markie was awake, so Mum fed her at table, for once leaving me to eat my dinner in peace, and once we'd cleared up, Mum cocked an eyebrow at me, nodding at Mark. He saw that, and sat up straighter.

"Mark, Julie have something to tell you, please to listen!" she smiled, bouncing Markie on her hip to keep her occupied while Mark and I talked.

"What's the problem, Tink?" he asked, a small worry-line appearing between his eyebrows. I drew a deep breath; this was it.

"Mark, you remember when I went to that address in Clifton, to look for mum's family?"

He nodded, so I continued.

"While we were in Bristol, they were here, mum's sister, Emma...and our cousin Darryl, the man who looks like you; he was here, too. Not 'here' here. They found Mummy's address, they went there, Mummy and Nia met them. Please Mark, there's more...!"

I could see he was perturbed by this; he'd told me once he wasn't interested in that side of our family, we had enough family right here, and now I was raking it up again. He fixed me with his eye, pinning me with that raised eyebrow he'd copied so effectively from Mummy, and slowly nodded.

"Okay, Tink, let's hear it!" he sighed, more resigned than annoyed.

"They left a number; his name's Darryl Morgan; I found his house but there was no-one in. I want to call him, I just want to get some answers, that's all, I don't want them in our lives, I just want to know who we are!"

Mark looked at me for a long moment, then smiled wistfully.

"Tink, if you want to call this...Darryl guy, go ahead; I'm not your boss, Tink, I don't make the rules, and you don't need my permission to do anything. I'm glad you told me, but if this is what you want, you should do it. I have to be honest; finding mum's family won't make any difference to my life; I have everything I could ever want right here, I have you, the children, Mum and Dad Morrison, Nia and Jamie, everyone who's important; my life is full and complete, but if you need answers, go and get them, I won't try and stop you; I don't have the right to do that, and I won't stand in your way. I just hope for your sake they're not like that bloody crazy woman!"

I stared at him open-mouthed; Mum had said he'd do anything for me, but I'd expected a certain amount of negotiation, and maybe at least an attempt to change my mind, not this, not complete capitulation. Mum was right; I wanted this, so he'd handed it to me. I had to say something.

"Mark, baby, are you sure? I mean, we could be opening a huge can of worms..."

He reached across the table and took my hand between his.

"If it does go tits-up, we'll deal with it; you need answers; this is the best way to get them. Don't worry, Little Plum, I've got your back, I've always had your back. When were you planning on doing this?"

There he had me. I was desperate for answers, but also wary of what I might hear, and my eyes flickered at Mum, silently appealing to her. She caught my look, and sat down, holding Markie on her lap.

"Mark, I tell Julie this because these people your family too, cannot change that, she need to know this things. I not know if you want to know too, but I tell her to tell you so you know. I think you need talk about this, this important, this about family, so talk, think, and when you ready, I be there, I help you talk if that what you want; you are my children too, cannot let you be alone now!"

With that, she stood and nuzzled Markie.

"You go to mummy now, co cong chua nho (little Princess), time for bed now, little bunny-rabbit!"

Markie grinned happily and hugged Mummy hard.

"Anh yêu em nana! (I love you, Nana!)," she lisped, making Mummy beam proudly.

"She smart girl, already speak more 'Ting Viet' than Jamie, and I have been talking to him all his life! I think she take after Nguye't!"

She kissed Markie soundly and put her into my arms before kissing me.

"Call me in morning, let me know what you decide, okay?"

Mark dropped her home, my injunction to stay out of Mummy's fridge probably passing right over his head unnoticed, and I was right; when he came in, he had that full, satisfied look that told me he'd been stuffing again, and a litre tub of Mummy's fabulous Mango ice-cream for me. We ate some while we decided what to do next; I wanted to call this Darryl person in the morning. 

Mark wanted to know what the rush was, but really it was just a rhetorical question; he could see this was eating at me, to be so close to getting some answers to questions that had become vitally important to me; who was I, who were we, Mark, the girls, me? Where did we come from, what had happened to cut us off so completely from the rest of our family, and why were they looking for us now? All questions I needed answers to. 

Mark could see how much this meant to me, and like the sweet man he is, he suggested we call this Darryl Morgan in the morning from Mummy's house, with our real family around us to lend support.

That done, my thoughts turned to something that had been fluttering inside me ever since Mummy had revealed what poor Mark was still going through; ever since that conversation, I'd been feeling the need to connect with him, to take him into me again and show him that there was love overflowing in our family, and it was all for him. 

Mark picked up on the tenor of my thoughts, as he always does, and so it was that our thoughts turned to more exciting things than family reunions; Mark had the look in his eye, and I was feeling a certain tingle too, so after checking on the children, he gently tugged me into the bedroom (with token resistance from me; after all, a girl has her reputation to think of...) and pulled me down on the bed next to him.

"I love you, Tinkerbell!" he declared, actions following words as his roaming hands found my panties and slid inside, to cup and squeeze my bum as his tongue gently fenced with mine. Mark is an extraordinarily good kisser, gentle, insistent but not forceful, loving, tender, and blisteringly hot, and I could feel myself wanting him more with every passing second.

"Help me...!" I urged as I tried to wriggle out of my clothes. Mark, of course, headed straight for my panties, sliding them off and flinging them dramatically across the room.

Next came my skirt, and finally, my tank top as he pulled it over my head, leaving me naked. His shirt was off, and the bulge in his jeans told me he was ready and willing, so I wasted no time in unbuckling his belt and popping his jeans so he could slide them off, to reveal his tented trunks, with his cock furled up inside there like a snake in a sack. As always, my mouth watered at the sight of him like that, his fit, well-muscled body tanned and healthy looking.

"Are you done staring, Little Plum?" he grinned, and I reached out to tweak his nipple, making him buck and chuckle as I touched one of only two ticklish spots on his body. He pulled me close and covered my face and neck with kisses, each one a little love-dart, piercing me and filling me with love and concern for my Lost Boy. Mummy had said he was still hurting, that he'd never learned how to let his pain go, because he'd never had the chance to learn how, and as he kissed and nuzzled me, that all came back to me. 

The memory of the scared little boy crying alone in his room in the dead of the night suddenly reared-up, clear and vivid, and with that the knowledge of why he'd cried night after night, when he was alone and the house was still, now churning inside me. I clutched hold of him, unable to let him go, suddenly afraid for him.

"Hey, hey, what's the matter, Tinkerbell?" he murmured, hugging me close as I clung desperately to him. He looked at me, real concern in his eyes, and his thumbs gently brushed away the tears gathering on my eyelashes.

"Don't cry, Wee Wendy, I've got you, I'll always be there to catch you, count on it!" he murmured, smiling as he kissed the tip of my nose, before once more pressing his lips to mine, kissing me as only he knows how.

We made love slowly, gently, caressing one another as we explored and shared those other parts of lovemaking than just simple gratification; Mark and I were connected at the soul, he was my saving Angel and my one true love. He'd been whipped and cowed, threatened and terrorised, but he'd never broken the faith; he'd kept me safe; now he needed me to help him unlock that missing part of his heart and make him whole again. 

As we made love the tears came, but they were sad and sweet, not bitter and painful; sadness that my poor Mark had been so injured by the one who was supposed to love him the most, that he paid a price for loving me that no-one should ever have asked of him, and the sweetness that came of knowing he was here with me, he was finally mine forever, that he wanted only me, and that he was, at last, safe and happy.




Lost Girl: Julie's Story Ch. 03 Pt. 02



Our lovemaking built to a crescendo, love and need for each other leading us to that place where our souls entwined and caressed. When I came, it was with a cry of pure happiness, the feeling starting somewhere deep inside me and mounting up though my body until it exploded in a white-hot sheet of sheer bliss in my mind, all my thoughts and needs wrapped around my darling, beloved Lost Boy. Mark kept pace with me, and my body's response to him took him with me, his lips finding mine as he poured himself into me, the heat of his body filling mine as we held each other tightly, burning together in the heatless white fire that licked around us.

One day soon I was going to share with him something that had been building in me for a while now; that I wanted another baby, maybe a son this time, a child made, like Markie and Nia, from our boundless love and need for each other.

*

Late morning found us at Mummy's house, Mark looking unconvinced but resigned. Nia just looked unconvinced. I was a bundle of nerves; Nia had already taken me aside and asked me just what I thought I was doing, supposing this lot were as bad, or worse, than my mother, had I even thought about that? I'd tried to explain, and while Nia listened, as she'd said she would, she still looked skeptical and unconvinced. However, she'd said her piece, and I loved her for being that concerned, but I felt I needed some answers, so she'd let it go. Only Mummy seemed relaxed and unconcerned as she gently rocked Nia and hummed to her while Markie, Laura and Jamie Jr. rolled and tumbled around inside the playpen under her watchful eye.

Finally, the moment came; all argument was done, everyone had said their piece, and I was ready for this, so Nia took my little Nia from Mummy so she could hold my hand. I dialled the number and switched the 'phone to 'Hands-free'. The number connected, and rang, and rang, and rang. Just as I moved to hang-up, a man's voice answered.

"H-hello?" He sounded blurry, not quite awake yet, like we'd woken him up; well, it was Saturday morning, maybe he was having a lie-in. But what astounded me was, even with that drowsy edge to his voice, how much like Mark he sounded, the same tone and timbre to his voice. Mummy tapped my arm gently, breaking me out of my momentary trance. This was it.

"Hello, is this Darryl Morgan?" I quavered, more than a little tremble in my voice. Mummy smiled and twined her fingers in mine reassuringly.

"Yes, speaking, who's calling, please?" he replied. I silently asked Mark what to do next, and he shrugged and pointed at the phone, so I plunged on.

"My name is Julie, Julie Jameson; I'm told you've been looking for me. I think you're my cousin..."

I heard the sharp intake of breath at the other end, then:

"Julie Jameson? Really? Oh my God, yes, yes I've been looking for you, we all have!"

His voice became slightly muffled, as though he'd turned away from the phone.

"Lena, LENA! It's Julie, yes, my cousin Julie, she's on the phone right now!"

I vaguely heard another voice in the background, a female voice, then once more Darryl's voice sharp and clear.

"Emma, your mother's sister, she's been looking for you for years, she's going to be so happy, we thought we'd lost you forever! How's your brother, how's Mark, is he there too? Emma talks so much about you both, she misses you both so much, all she wants to do is see you again; she carried you when you were a baby, that's the last time she saw you, she's going to be so excited!"

I couldn't help but smile as he babbled excitedly, he sounded so genuinely happy to hear from me; even Nia had lost her frosty expression and was also grinning at his happy exuberance. He'd asked about Mark; of course he couldn't know about Mark and me, but I thought I'd put his mind at ease.

"Mark's here with me right now, Darryl; we got your message, I'm curious; how did you know to come here and look for us?"

For some reason, I pictured him smiling, his voice had that same inflection Mark gets when he's smiling and talking.

"One of my colleagues at St Georges managed to find a record of a Julie Jameson who was injured in a sports accident when she was thirteen, her next of kin was listed as Mark Jameson, aged sixteen, the ages matched, so I've had people combing through the medical records archives at St Georges and Bolingbroke, and they came up with your address. The rest you know!"

Mark cleared his throat at that.

"Mark here, Darryl; I thought those records are confidential? How did you get to see them?"

Darryl's answer was straightforward and with no hesitation, indicating he was telling the truth.

"I didn't; my colleague is Paediatric Registrar at St. Georges, she made some enquiries, as a favour to me, and left it up to me to follow them up; looks like I made the right decision!" he said, and once again I could hear that smile in his voice, so much like Mark. 

"Look, I think we should meet up, when you're ready, of course; I promise, I don't want anything from you, all I want is to be able to tell Emma that both of you are well and safe, or maybe she can see for herself; she's been beating herself up for years thinking she abandoned you both. There are things she needs to tell you, and there are probably things you want to know, about us, about your family, so I think a meeting might be a good idea. Now you have my number, please, think about it; Emma wants to know all about you, and about your mother, my aunt Sandra; where is she, anyway?"

There were only two possible places I could think of, and she was almost certainly in the hotter one, but I wasn't going into that over the phone with a stranger.

"Mum...died, two years ago now..."

"I'm so sorry, please accept my condolences. Emma will be heartbroken; she was so hoping to see her younger sister again..." 

He sounded genuinely sorry, but then of course he couldn't possibly know the truth about our bonkers, booze-hound mother and her vicious, cruel nature. I decided to stall him a little; I needed to think about this.

"Darryl, I'm sure you'll understand that this is all a little sudden; Mark and I, we've been alone all our lives, so the idea of family seems a little...much right now. I think we need to think about this."

To his credit, he agreed with me, not pressuring us at all.

"Of course, Julie, I understand completely; when you're ready to take that next step, please, call me and we'll set something up."

He sounded disappointed, but I could tell he was bending over backwards to accommodate me, which I appreciated. He just had one more thing to say.

"I would really like to meet you both, and I know my wife and children would too. Take your time, I'm not going anywhere, and when you feel the time's right, call me and we'll organise something; poor Emma 's been looking for you for so long, I'm just glad I have some good news for her at last! Until the next time, then, it was wonderful to hear from you, from both of you, Emma will be so thrilled!"

I hung up, with a strange sense of anti-climax, but also with a feeling of a connection made, and glad Darryl hadn't seemed inclined to pressure us. I looked over at Nia to gauge her reaction, noting she seemed thoughtful.

"So, Nia, what do you think, how did that go?" I asked her, watching her closely.

"Honestly, Jules? I was a little suspicious when I first met him, but I actually do think he wants nothing from you except to meet his family; when you meet him, if you decide to, you're in for a surprise, though! Did you notice he passed off the 'colleague at St Georges' thing? It sounds like he's a doctor, so probably not a sleaze; he's married with kids, and from what mummy said, he seems like a genuine family man, and very concerned about the pair of you. The woman with him, this 'Emma' person, your aunt, she looked so much like your mum I was shocked, and a little scared, but she was nothing like your mum, she seemed like a nice person too. I'm 50/50 right now, but I think we need to sit down and talk to mummy about this, daddy too." 

She was right; Mark was still looking only partially convinced, and one glance from him was all I needed; we definitely needed older, wiser heads to talk this through with us, and I would have liked some big-brother insight from Jamie, too, but he was off on a commission somewhere in the Philippines and wouldn't be back for at least a week. Mummy was nodding, obviously still reading my mind.

"Nguye't right; we need talk with daddy too; he know you need to do this thing, perhaps he help you work out way to do this. You agree?"

Mark nodded.

"I think I'd like to follow this up; I'm kind of curious where this Darryl guy's coming from, but if it's all the same to you, I'd like to wait 'til Jamie gets back first. I want to see what he has to say too."

I'm constantly being brought-up short by how in-tune Mark and I are, and so hearing my own thoughts echoed back at me was no surprise, it was just more proof of just how close were.

"Next week, then?" suggested Nia, and we all nodded. Next week it was, and as Jamie had business in Bristol the week after that, we decided that he and Nia would go down there together and scope-out these people, to find out just what we were getting ourselves into.

*

DARRYL:

I paused, completely wrong footed for a few seconds before I remembered I was on the phone.

"Julie Jameson? Really? Oh my God, yes, yes I've been looking for you, we all have!"

I heard Lena padding around in the corridor, she'd definitely want to know about this, so I called her

"Lena? LENA! It's Julie!"

Lena popped her head in the bedroom door, her eyes wide as she murmured "Julie? Really?"

I grinned back at her.

"Yes, my cousin Julie, she's on the phone right now!"

Lena sat on the edge of the bed, frantically motioning me to keep talking, to keep Julie talking, so I did, telling her about Emma, about her search for her, about the things Emma wanted to tell her. As we talked, I noted her voice; she had a soft, almost childlike voice, with a definite South London accent, as did Mark, and, for no good reason, I mentally pictured her as a smaller, younger version of Emma; blonde hair, green eyes, fair-skinned, all the Fraser family trademarks.

I could sense a certain reticence, an unwillingness to give too much away; she was definitely holding back, not that I blamed her; it must be unsettling in the extreme to have a whole bunch of relatives appear out of the blue, but I also felt she was holding-up remarkably well under the circumstances. I could feel the skittishness growing, especially when I suggested a meeting, so I back-pedalled, leaving the door open for them to make the next move. I still didn't have a proper way of contacting them, so I'd just have to rely on God and guesswork as to when and if they'd make the next move.

As soon as I hung-up, Lena was on me, wanting to know details, so I told her what I knew, and what I guessed, and left her to draw her own conclusions; she was a little more up-beat than me, though.

"She called you, Dar, so she's interested; right now I bet she's wondering about you and why it's taken you so long to reach out to her, and you're right, she's probably wary of you as well, so give her time; I think she'll come back to you soon enough!"

She grinned impishly as she stood up and pulled the straps of her summer dress off her shoulders, letting it slide off her and onto the floor; she was naked underneath it.

"Mummy's taken David and Mo-Mo over to Lizzie's place, so we have the house to ourselves until this afternoon; was there anything special you wanted to do?"

There were several things I wanted to do, all of them sticky, sweaty, and immensely enjoyable, so I pulled her close and got to work. Lena pregnant is almost irresistible, as I'd discovered though our first two pregnancies, and her sex-drive seems to rev-up accordingly. The two of us were randy, ready, and poised for action, and all it took was for me to tug her back up to me to open the floodgates.

"Taste me, Dar, I want to taste you too!" she husked, my semi suddenly stiffening into a full-blown erection at the tone of her voice and the thought of what was coming next.

"Mmm, you smell nice!" I grinned, her scent subtle and alluring, and wholly natural; Nia didn't use perfumes in case they irritated Mo-Mo's skin, but she always smelled wonderful, a little like ice-cream, that sweet, floral, slightly milky smell, but not overpowering, rather it was fresh and enticing.

Nia smiled at the compliment, once again that serene, enigmatic smile straight from the lips of a Caravaggio Madonna.

"And you smell nice too, Dar, your morning smell is delicious. Now come closer and play with me, big brother!"

Ah, so that was what she wanted; good, so did I; I think I wanted my little sister right now as well.

Lena grinned as I slid closer to her, my hands sliding over her, touching, caressing, squeezing, enjoying the warm vitality of the beautiful girl I married. I gently urged her over onto her back, so I could kiss and nibble her properly. Lena sighed as my lips fastened lightly on her nipple, her sighs deepening as I began to rub the little nub, feeling it grow firmer and longer as I sucked and nibbled. I slid across to do the same to the other, Lena giggling softly amid her sighs as I nibbled and tickled her, before kissing my way down her sleek abdomen and flat tummy, to swirl my tongue-tip in her navel, something that always seems to give her a jolt, and this time was no exception.

"Ooohh, Dar, ooh!" she gasped, winking at me as I looked up at her with a grin on my face. I continued kissing and licking her flat belly, moving ever downwards, until my tongue brushed the apex of her waxed slit, making her jump and sigh again.

"Darryl..." she whispered, her voice midway between a groan and a caress, causing me to delve deeper between her thighs, licking and tasting her as her pussy lips flowered open under my tongue. I could feel her labia getting warmer as they engorged, and my head swam with the nearness of her, her sweet, earthy, tangy aroma, and the taste of her on my tongue.

"Wait Dar..." she murmured, sliding away from me, kneeling up instead to smile naughtily at me.

"Like this, Stud-Muffin!" she grinned, straddling me with her back to me. I twigged right away what she wanted, so I shuffled lower down the bed so my face was right under her moist and swollen pussy, ready to continue my assault on her. As I clasped hold of her taut, perfectly sculpted buttocks, I pulled her to me, once more slipping my tongue into her moist, steamy little honey-pot.

Lena sighed and leaned forward, taking hold of me and pumping me, testing how ready I was, before delicious heat and wet suction enveloped me as she slipped her lips over the end of my cock.

We played for what seemed like hours, working each other right up to the brink then pulling back, prolonging the moment and delaying the inevitable, but it wasn't humanly posible to keep each other so keyed-up without something giving, and it was Lena who finally broke first.

As I pushed the tip of my tongue between her labia again, I could feel the changes in her; this time she wouldn't be denied, and as she bore back against me, I deliberately rasped my tongue over the hard little bead of her clitoris, simultaneously sliding my thumb into her tight, slippery little anus.

Lena shuddered as she came, only my cock in her mouth preventing her screaming out loud, but the feel of her groans vibrating in her throat, pulsing against my already over-stimulated cock-head was finally too much for me, and I joined her in climax, my ears dulling as spurt after spurt of semen poured out of me, filling her mouth and throat as she writhed and shuddered against me, until her orgasm had run its course and she slumped down on me, her heart drumming to match mine.

We lay in our sweat, muscles twitching as aftershock and adrenaline had their way with us, Lena finally summoning enough energy to roll off me and ease her way back up to lie against me, the smell of her sweat sharp and sweet in the midsummer morning air. 

"And that's another reason I keep you around, Doctor Big Brother!" she grinned, unable to stop herself giggling as the last of the tension drained away, taking me with her, so we laughed together, finally subsiding into a warm glow of love and contentment; today, right now, all was well in our world, and life was good. 

*

It took almost two weeks for anything further to develop; I'd told Emma that I'd spoken with Julie, and Mark. She of course was ecstatic and wanted to go haring back down to London, but I had to burst her bubble and explain that Julie wasn't exactly champing at the bit to meet with us; then, of course, the pendulum swung the other way, and poor Emma started wallowing in the pool of guilt she'd been dabbling in for the last twenty or so years, and it took several chats and a couple of nice dinners to pull her back up again. Poor thing, she'd invested so much time and energy in finding Julie and Mark, I felt like a complete heel telling her that Julie hadn't known of us, of her, and wasn't even that keen to meet us, or so it seemed to me.

So imagine my surprise when one evening my phone rang. It was a woman's voice, no-one I recognised, and not Julie, but the caller-ID showed a South London Area Code.

"Hello, is this Darryl Morgan?" she asked, and when I replied that it was she continued.

"Darryl, my name's Nia, Nia Morrison, we met briefly a few weeks ago, you came to my mother's house in Clapham old Town?"

Now I remembered; the beautiful Eurasian girl, the one who'd claimed she'd never heard of Julie.

"My husband and I will be in Bristol on the weekend; I was wondering if we could come and see you? It's about Julie and Mark Jameson."

Bingo. Of course I agreed. Now all I needed to know why they'd denied knowing her...

"That would be wonderful. Could my aunt Emma be here as well? I think she'd like to hear what you have to say."

Nia gave a soft chuckle.

"Of course. Saturday morning?"

"Saturday morning it is. My address is..." but she cut me short.

"It's okay, I know where you are; Julie found your address and knocked, but there was no-one in. My husband went to university in Bristol, and lived in the Halls of Residence in Clifton, as it happens, so he knows how to get to your place. We'll see you mid-morning, if that's alright with you?"

I assured her it was, and rang-off. Lena cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Looks like Julie's checking you out! I don't blame her, you do look a little shady, I'd probably be a little worried, too!"

I had no answer but to grab her and hold her while I tickled her, Mo-Mo bouncing up and down in her baby-bouncer and giggling with her, and David climbing onto us to help me kiss and tickle his mummy.

*

Saturday morning came, and now I was feeling it; usually I'm the composed one, and Lena's the one who frets, and paces, and rearranges things and drives me mad, but this time she was a picture of calm, that sweet 'Madonna' look on her face, and the calm, unruffled manner she gets when she's pregnant already in evidence, her calmness doing nothing to calm me. 

When the doorbell rang I literally jumped. Lena smiled tolerantly and patted me on the arm as she went to open the door. I heard muffled voices in the hall, and then Lena ushered our guests in. The girl Nia was as beautiful as I remembered, and her husband was a tall, handsome young man, a couple of years younger than me, and, oddly, with the same brilliantly blue eyes as his wife. Once everyone was seated, introductions made, and the niceties observed, I decided it was time to find out what had brought this couple here.

"Thank you for coming. My aunt is on her way over, she should be here soon. I take it you know Julie Jameson?"




Lost Girl: Julie's Story Ch. 03 Pt. 02



Nia smiled at my directness.

"Yes I do; Julie is my oldest friend; she and Mark are like my brother and sister. I'm sorry about that business back at mum's house, but I had to make sure you really were her family, and that you weren't going to hurt her. She and Mark have been through a lot, and my mum and I were protecting them. I think I'd rather wait until your aunt arrives, she's probably going to want to hear what I have to say, and I really don't want to do this twice, so if you don't mind...?"

Lena smiled that serene, placid smile of hers.

"Not at all. Emma will be here shortly, but in the meantime, would you like some tea? Or coffee?"

Everyone plumped for coffee, and Nia offered to help Lena, so the two girls disappeared into the kitchen while Jamie and I chatted about nothing much. We got to talking about children. Jamie told me they had twins, a boy and girl, two years old now, and like any proud father, he pulled out pictures of them to show me. He admired the pictures of David and Mo-Mo on the mantelpiece, and seemed particularly taken with Mo-Mo.

The girls came back in then, chatting like old friends, and just then the doorbell went again, so Lena went off to answer it while I entertained our guests. Emma came in, followed by Lena, and once again we made introductions, before getting down to why we were all here. Nia kicked off the discussion.

"I'm sorry about deceiving you when you came and saw us; we didn't know too much about you, and, given the history of Julie, Mark , and their mother, we thought it best to keep them under wraps a while longer."

Emma looked puzzled.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand, what 'history'?"

Nia looked at her levelly, then exchanged glances with Jamie, who nodded, so Nia plunged on.

"Julie and Mark were abused, terrorised, and injured by their mother; she never mistreated them, at least, not that I know about, she just ignored them from the time they were little. Mark had to bring up Julie, but he was only a little boy himself; she left him to care for Julie because she didn't want to. Can you imagine how scared he was? How alone? He was just a small boy, and all the weight of the world was left piled on him."

She paused to dash the back of her hand across her eyes.

"It was even worse for Julie; you said you found a report at St. Georges that she'd been in a sports accident. That's not true; that's what my dad told them to stop the police taking them into care and probably splitting them up forever. The truth is, Julie's mother attacked her; she punched her so hard she knocked her flying; she broke Julie's cheekbone and almost cost her an eye. My dad and I sat with her in the hospital while they treated her; they even had to give her an MRI, because they were afraid she'd sustained brain damage, because her mother had hit her so hard."

Emma was open-mouthed at this revelation, as was I. Lena took Emma's hand and squeezed it, then looked up at Nia.

"Why did she do that?" she whispered, "I remember the report; I remember Darryl telling me she was thirteen when she was injured; she was just a little girl, why did her mother do that?"

Jamie took Nia's hand as she bowed her head, but we all saw the tear roll down her cheek. When she spoke, her voice was so low we all had to strain to hear what she was saying.

"She was an alcoholic; every day, all she did was drink; that's why she left Mark to bring up Julie; he was just a small boy, and she was even younger, but she just left them to one side while she drank..."

Emma was openly crying now, and I didn't blame her; this was her deepest fear made fact, that she'd left those kids to their fate, and now this...

Lena hugged Emma as she wept, and even Nia had tears in her eyes as she watched. Emma finally got herself under control, and once more faced Nia.

"There's more, I know this isn't the whole story, please, finish it..."

Nia tried to speak, but she seemed to have trouble swallowing, so Jamie hugged her, then took up the tale.

"When they were older, their mother accused them of being...together, went into a frenzy and kicked Julie out, but what she did to Mark..."

He looked away for a moment, tugging his collar, obviously uncomfortable with what he had to say, but he ploughed on regardless.

"She told him that if he didn't leave immediately, she was going to the police to have Julie arrested and charged with...with incest, and threatened to petition to have her placed on the Sex Offenders Register, to get her sacked from her job, to ruin her and throw her to the wolves, so Mark left. But she kept him in a stranglehold; every day he had to call her from his office here in Bristol, every night she called him at his flat, seven days a week; if he missed one call, she was going to the police to have Julie arrested and charged. Mark brought Julie up, he was all she had, and he wasn't going to abandon her, so he did what she wanted."

He paused to clear his throat, an expression of distaste on his face.

"It got so the poor guy started thinking about killing himself just to get away from under her thumb. She almost drove him mad, and yet she kept on doing it. She was going insane, you see; Alcohol Related Dementia, Korsakov's Syndrome, call it what you like; she blamed Julie for her husband leaving; she even told Julie she should have used a twisted coat-hanger when she found out she was pregnant, any way it took to get rid of her. How can you tell your own child something like that?"

Lena and Emma were immobile, open-mouthed, shock and outrage on their faces as the whole shocking, terrible story unfolded, just as I was shocked and horrified; no wonder Nia and her mother had disavowed all knowledge of Julie and Mark, given the monster their mother, my aunt, had been; for all they knew, we were just like her.

I felt I had to say something in the silence that had fallen.

"How long had all this been going on?"

Nia shook her head and flicked her hair back over her shoulders.

"For Julie? All her life, but at least she had us; any time she needed to, she could come running, and mummy, daddy, me, we were all there for her; it's Mark who was hurt the most. She never allowed him to have friends; how could he bring friends home when she was sprawled drunk on the couch? He was lonely and alone all his life, and that's how she abused him. Even when he came here, he couldn't go out, he couldn't find a girlfriend, have a life, make friends, because he had to be here to take that damned phone call every night to prove he was here and keep Julie safe! Even when he was grown the abuse didn't stop, he couldn't make it stop, not if he wanted to keep Julie safe!"

Her eyes were flashing, and I realised she was furious. Jamie pulled her closer, and she buried her face in his neck while she trembled. 

"Sshhh, it's over now, they're safe, it's over babe." He whispered, but Nia pulled away to glare at him.

"No it's not, not for Mark! It'll never be over for him, not after what she did to him! Mummy told me ...!" she caught herself and buried her face in his neck once more.

I realised I was holding Lena's hand, both of us needing human contact in the midst of the emotional turmoil in the room. 

Emma was twisting and coiling her handkerchief, obviously wanting to ask Nia something. Jamie noticed, and nudged Nia, who quickly wiped her eyes and composed herself.

"Do you have a picture of ...of Julie, or Mark? They were so small the last time I saw them, so young, I would so like to see what they look like now..."

Nia nodded and opened her purse, pulling out a digital camera and a photo wallet. She took out a photograph and passed it to Emma

"This is our school picture, when we were eleven, that's Julie, standing next to me."

I peered at the picture, seeing a small girl with long, platinum-blonde hair. She looked so much like how I imagined Mo-Mo was going to look, and even Lena saw it.

"This is a baby picture Mark managed to find."

Lena looked at it and gasped. Nia looked puzzled at her reaction, so Lena stood up and picked Mo-Mo's picture off the mantelpiece. When Nia saw both pictures side by side she gasped too; they could have been sisters, same white-blonde hair, same green eyes, the same expression as they giggled for the camera. Sure, to me, Mo-Mo looked like Lena, but the resemblance to Julie was also apparent now that I could see them both side by side.

"This is my Maureen, Mo-Mo to family and friends, her grandfather is Emma's brother, Darryl's biological father. That should prove they're family."

Nia studied the two photographs raptly.

"I'll say!" she breathed, "It's uncanny, look at them! Look at this, though."

She snapped-on the camera and flicked through the pictures until she came to the one she wanted.

"This is Mark..."

The man in the picture could almost have been the younger me, but with grey eyes; everything else was me; same hair, same expression. I stared at my double, while Lena flicked back and forth between the two of us, also unable to believe what she was seeing.

"He looks just like you, like Robert..." she breathed, and I nodded, as did Emma, smiling even as she gazed with tears in her eyes at the man she'd last seen as a small boy.

"I don't see his father at all, nothing," she marvelled, "only Robbie, and Darryl, and my dad. He has his father's eyes though. Are they happy now? That's all I ever wanted to know. I don't mind if I never meet them, just so long as I know they're both happy."

Nia nodded.

"They're happy; poor Mark's still trapped inside whatever it was his mother did to him, but Julie's helping him out of that. Their mother's dead now, she can't hurt him anymore, and they're both free of her. Julie's happy, I promise you."

I had one question I still needed an answer to.

"My friends at St. Georges unearthed a request from Croydon University Hospital Ante-Natal clinic for Julie's records; does she have a baby?"

Nia and Jamie exchanged glances, then nodded.

"She has two, Nia...and Markie. Markie's two and a bit, the same age as mine, and Nia's just over a year old now..."

"Is she married now?" asked Lena, and Nia shook her head.

"No, but she and Ma...her partner are happy, and very much in love."

Lena looked at me; she'd caught the correction as well; Nia had almost said 'Mark'; something else was going on here. Jamie jumped in while Nia covered her confusion.

"Darryl, you say Julie's uncle Robert is your father, and he was a Fraser; if I'm not prying too deeply, why is your name 'Morgan'?"

I spent the next couple of minutes explaining to him the circumstances of my birth and upbringing, and why I carried my maternal grandfather's name, not my father's.

"That's quite a story," he commented, "he died in the Falklands? I was there my last year of uni, working with a geophysical team, prospecting for oil. It's odd how our two families keep intersecting and going off again. Mark kept getting mistaken for you, and it freaked him out!"

My ears pricked up, and my interest must have shown, so he elaborated.

"Mark's brokerage firm has an office in Clifton, well, Redland, actually, and he comes down once a month; he'd go for lunch in one of the pubs behind the Royal Infirmary, and someone would come up to him and call him 'Darryl'; poor guy was getting freaked about it. I guess people were mistaking him for you, so do you work in Clifton?"

Lena grinned.

"Dar works at the Bristol Royal Infirmary; it was probably only going to be a matter of time before he and Mark walked smack into each other in a pub around there!"

Both Jamie and Nia looked interested, so I elaborated.

"I'm the Junior Surgical Consultant on the Cardiology team. I trained at St. Georges, and lived in a flat on one of the streets off Tooting Broadway. I used to go for a drink on my evenings off at 'The Windmill' on Clapham Common, because the pubs at Amen Corner and Tooting Broadway were just too rough, and I usually parked my car on the street where you live; again we go back to what you were saying just now, about our lives constantly intersecting then going off again at tangents; I may even have seen Julie a dozen times when I was a med student and never knew who she was; she would have just been a little girl then, so I probably wouldn't even have noticed her."

While I'd been talking, Lena and Nia kept exchanging glances; there was some kind of communication going on there, and when I cocked an eyebrow at her, she nodded, that expression she get's when she knows she's right settling on her. She leaned forward, her hand finding mine again as she spoke.

"Nia, Jamie, about Julie and Mark; they're together, aren't they? Don't worry, I'm not condemning, neither is Darryl, heaven knows we should be the last ones to point and accuse, but they're together, and that's why they're happy, isn't that right?"

Nia and Jamie exchanged looks, then Jamie answered.

"Yes, they are; they love each other, they have two lovely kids, they have us; their mother tried her damnedest to destroy them, and now she's dead and they're happy; maybe there is such a thing as natural justice."

Emma looked sadly at them.

"Sandra did terrible things; she made her children hate and fear her, but she was still my little sister, and I loved her. Tell me, please; how did she die, and when?"

Jamie looked uncomfortable, but plunged on.

"She was sectioned under the Mental Health Act, and they confined her in a secure nursing home in Richmond. Her dementia had progressed to the point where she'd lost all touch with reality. She was there for about a year, and she died just two days after her granddaughter was born, in 2012; she's buried in Mortlake Crematorium, and no, Mark and Julie have never been to see her; they have no reason to. I'm sorry, but after what she did to them, the mess she made of their lives, the evil things she did to torture and torment them, Julie and Mark want nothing more to do with her. I'm so sorry, I wish I could have spared you that..."

Emma nodded, ashen-faced, all through this, tears running down her cheeks, and Jamie, to his credit, looked ashamed that he'd been the one to tell her. Nia suddenly leaned forward and took Emma's hand between hers, sympathy for her evident in her look.

"I'm sorry you had to learn this; it's not something anyone would want to hear, and we took no pleasure telling you, believe me, but it's gone now, that was the past; Mark and Julie survived, they have loved ones now, and people who love them. You've probably guessed by now that we came down to check you out. Julie and Mark are part of my family; my mum has taken them as her own kids now. Now Mark's my brother, and Julie's my sister, and we look after our own, so we came here to meet you and find out for ourselves what kind of people you are. What we found is a concerned, caring, loving family, and we'll be telling Julie that; perhaps it's time her family was put back together."

Emma smiled sadly.

"Mark and Julie are happy, really? You promise? From what you say, all my worst fears for them came true, but now they're happy together, yes?"

Nia nodded, her own smile gentle and understanding.

"They're very happy, I promise you."

At that moment, Mo-Mo made her presence felt, grizzling as she woke from her nap in the other room. David was with mum, and not due back from Play-Centre until after lunch, so we just had the one to deal with. Lena went to get her, and when she brought her back into the room, Nia was immediately all over her.

"Jamie, look, she looks like Nia!" was her comment, and when Lena offered to let her carry Mo-Mo, Nia jumped at the chance, rocking her as she baby-talked to her, with Jamie grinning as he watched.

I also grinned as I watched Nia rocking my daughter.

"Careful, she's teething, so her tummy's a little delicate right now; carrying her's a bit like juggling eggs; one wrong move and it's everywhere!"

Nia grinned back at me.

"Don't worry, I have twins, they did this together; three months of no sleep, ice cubes, nuclear-waste Pampers, and drooling, been there, done that!"

While Lena, Emma, and Nia fussed over Mo-Mo, Jamie and I chatted about Julie and Mark. I was curious about my cousins, about what they were like, especially Julie.

"What's she like, Jamie, really?" I asked.

Jamie leaned back and smiled gently.

"She's tiny, only about yea high, but she's tough; I suppose she had to be, but she's a lovely girl, pretty as they come, and Mum adores her. Mark calls her 'Tinkerbell', and that's what she's been all her life to him. She and Nia have been friends since they were little girls. They went through school together, and to be honest, the only real mum she ever had was Nia's mother. Nia's parents are Julie's parents now, her kids climb all over my da...I mean Nia's dad like he's their own personal playground, and she and Mark are in and out all the time; they have real family now."

He sighed and took a sip from his coffee.

"Mark brought her up all by himself; he was just a little boy himself, only three years older than her, but he had to do everything for her, from the time she was a toddler, and that left no time for him to be what he should have been. Mum's heartbroken that the one thing she can't do is help him; only Julie can do that; all we can do is sit on the sidelines and be there when they need us."

A thought suddenly struck me, dredged-up by that slip he'd made when talking about Nia's parents.

"When you say 'Mum', you mean Nia's mother yes?"

He darted a look at me and looked away again just as quickly.

"Yes, of course, Nia's mother..."

I smiled to myself and decided to try one last question.

"It's just that I couldn't help noticing you both have exactly the same eyes..?" I prodded gently, and once again Jamie darted that quick glance at me, then smiled.

"Yeah, funny that!" he grinned, confirming my suspicions; he and Nia were related too, just how closely was of no interest to me; it was Julie and Mark who concerned me, but I found myself feeling grateful that, given the awful life they'd had, and the neglect and cruelty they'd suffered, there were at least two good people who obviously cared deeply about them. 

Jamie and Nia finally left after promising they'd do all they could to persuade Julie to meet with us. She borrowed a picture of Mo-Mo to show her, and took a picture of Emma, and some of Lena and me, and she seemed confident that Julie would agree.

"Julie's a nice girl; even with all that happened to her, she's not bitter or twisted inside. Her mother terrified and ostracized her, but it never left her all bent and twisted inside, just wary of any kind of family entanglements, but now I think she's ready to start finding her family again. Don't worry, when she sees these pictures, I think you'll be hearing from her again."

We left Emma in the study for the rest of the afternoon, flicking again and again through the pictures of Julie, Mark, and their children that Nia had downloaded to my laptop, tears in her eyes but a smile playing on her lips as she finally saw them again after so long.

JULIE:

Nia called Saturday lunchtime to say it went well, and she wanted to talk on Tuesday when she and Jamie got back from Bristol, which didn't help; three days of second-guessing her and wondering how it went was going to drive me up the wall, and take Mark with me, but there was nothing I could do about it, so I decided to be strong, just wait it out, and not let it get to me. 

That lasted two hours, then I bundled Nia into her pushchair with Markie to keep her company, and beat it for Mummy's place. I think she knew I was coming; the table was set for three, and she had that look that told me she knew exactly what was going through my mind. 

Mummy reads Jamie's mind as a matter of course, and had been doing it since he was a toddler; now she was doing it to me; more proof, if any was needed, that she was my mum now. After the usual superb lunch, Markie took Dada Morrison for a tour of the garden and greenhouse, leaving Mummy and me in peace to talk, with Nia, as always, perched comfortably on her lap. Mummy always has this air of distracted attentiveness when she has the grandchildren with her; she looks like she's miles away, totally absorbed in spooning apricot custard into little mouths, and suddenly she'll ask a sharp, insightful question, demonstrating yet again that her multi-tasking skills are far superior to mine, or to anyone I knew.