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The following is a continuance of a story I posted a little while ago. It might stand up on its own but will make much more sense if you read the first two parts, I hope you like it…Best wishes CC.
One Saturday evening Kate and I were in the cinema. The film was dreadful, not what we were expecting. Kate was restless and playful; reaching across for popcorn her fingers would ‘accidently’ brush against my breast. Her hand resting on my knee would begin to creep under my skirt and every now and again she would lean over and whisper something very naughty and suggestive in my ear. I was 39 years old and fending off the attentions of a very lovely woman, the thought made me giggle and Kate knew that I was putty in hers hands. We finished the film; I can’t even remember what it was about and made our way down the street to pick up a Thai take-out. Driving home, Kate continued to tease and every time we stopped at the lights she would tilt towards me and kiss me. We reached home and I started to open the meal up while Kate opened a bottle of wine and poured a couple of glasses. As she handed me one, I saw the answer phone light blinking. I realised I had forgotten to switch on my phone after the movie. With Kate hugging me from behind and wriggling her hand under my t-shirt, I pressed play.
The message was calm, dreadful and to the point. We both froze and I swung round to look at her. She took my glass and set it down,
‘We’ll go; right now…I’ll drive’
Picking up bags and purses we fled the house, my stomach churning over in fright. The message had explained an accident, a serious accident involving Tom, Maggie and the kids. It said nothing more, just ‘accident’ and the name of the hospital.
Kate drove quickly but carefully while I stared out of the window chewing on a thumb nail. She grasped my hand,
‘Don’t panic yet love, let’s get the full picture.’
She was kind and strong but I could hear the worry in her voice.
Of course, the hospital was the kind of chaos you would normally find in an emergency department on a Saturday night. Drunken aggressive football fans and a gaggle of students mixed in the waiting room giving the place a fuggy belligerent atmosphere. The receptionist was sympathetic and thorough and we found ourselves in the much more peaceful family room. I quickly discovered I found the bedlam outside almost preferable to the nerve wracking quiet. We waited for about 45 very long minutes before the door opened and a tired looking man in scrubs opened the door and came in. He shook both our hands and established our identities before asking us to sit. He began with good news.
‘We received 5 patients from a road traffic accident at 7pm. Three children were admitted, they are all stable and well. The boy, Harry, has a double fracture of his tibia and will require surgery. The two girls will be kept in for observation, but save for mild concussion and bruising they appear to be well.’
Both Kate and I released breath simultaneously.
He continued, his expression grave.
‘Mrs Hope has received very serious injuries and has had surgery to stop internal bleeding. I must warn you however that her injuries are severe; she’s in intensive care. We will do all we can.’
His eyes caught mine and I knew his news would be awful before he opened his mouth.
‘Miss Hope, I’m very sorry to have to tell you that Mr Hope was declared dead on arrival. His injuries were very severe; I doubt very much that he would have been conscious at all since the accident.’
My world stopped still. I could hear the blood thumping in my ears but was aware of little else. My adorable baby brother was dead and Maggie was critical. I struggled to focus and accept the information. I was aware of Kate and the doctor speaking but I couldn’t hear what they said. I can remember fragments of the rest of the night; watching the children sleep in a kids ward, seeing Maggie lying so very still, surrounded by machines while tubes pumped life into her. Numbly nodding while I identified Tom and watching as my father and step mother received the most awful news a parent can be told. Kate took me home at the end of my worst evening, made me drink tea and held me close on the sofa. I was conscious of her grief and of her tears but my own refused to arrive.
The next few days were filled with hope. Emma and Connie were released and came home. Maggie’s parents arrived, both distraught but hopeful and the house was filled while we took turns to visit Harry who was doing well and Maggie, who wasn’t.
Maggie died three days later. There were no ‘soap opera’ endings. I was in the room with her mum, Cathy, when the machines sounded a warning and a team of medics rushed in. I waited helplessly outside until they came out and told us the news and I retreated to leave Cathy to her grief. My whole world seemed to be in freefall and it was the constant love and care Kate gave that kept me sane.
We all endured the double canlı bahis şirketleri funeral. We all took turns being with and explaining to the kids. It was the most heart breaking of times. And every night I would find myself in Kate’s strong warm arms and feel like she made just a little of the hurt disappear.
Inevitably, unavoidably, Tom and Maggie’s Will was read and our thoughts moved on to the kids and their future. Typically, Tom had prepared well and all his affairs were very much in order. The house was safe and money was never going to be an issue. The big question, of course, was the guardianship of the children and Tom and Maggie’s will had expressly asked that I was to be the primary carer for the kids. Late into the evening I sat with Cathy and Bill, Maggie’s parents, as well as my own while we discussed our options. Bill had MS, and while still fit and relatively healthy they were really in no position to look after 3 lively children and I guessed the same to be said of my father and stepmother. While positively terrified of the prospect, I knew that I owed it to my brother and Maggie to look after their kids in the best way I could. Secretly, I was terrified of Kate’s reaction to the news and had been avoiding the subject with her. I got up and walked to the kitchen to make us all tea. The door closed behind me but not before I heard my stepmothers’ voice, low and urgent.
‘You can’t possibly be serious?’ she hissed
I quietly opened the door a touch and listened from the safety of the kitchen
‘You can’t possibly be thinking of leaving our grandchildren to be brought up by…by a pair of…well, lesbians!’
I shut the door again and leaned against it with my heart beating fast and a sweat breaking out on my forehead. I didn’t listen to the rest of the conversation, I didn’t want to. Had she really said that? Did they all feel the same way? All my deep rooted insecurities immediately crept up to the surface and I was left reeling. The grief that I had been holding back for so long came crashing down on me and I sank to the floor in a daze. Still the tears didn’t come, but crazy thoughts instead, and one coherent thought rose above them all; no way were those kids going to be brought up my stepmother!
Stupid thoughts and plans have a habit of appearing quite sane when you are wounded and down. My thoughts seemed quite clear at the time. I would look after the children, and if my sexuality was an issue, then I would remove it from the equation. I would look after them alone.
‘You’re going to do what?’ Kate’s voice was high, incredulous. ‘Don’t be so stupid, what on earth are you thinking?’
‘I’m going to move into Tom’s house with the kids and look after them alone.’
‘What about me?’
‘You don’t want kids, you told me.’
‘That was years ago and things change; Alex stop being so stupid and think clearly. You can’t just leave me, we’re a couple, and we do things together.’
‘We can’t do this together,’ I was whining, faltering.
‘Oh for fuck’s sake Alex!’ She stopped, suddenly so angry she could hardly speak, her blue eyes flashing and her cheeks reddening. ‘Will you for once stop thinking about the proper thing to do and work on what’s the right thing to do?’ Her voice dripped sarcasm and instead of being cowed it seemed to strengthen my resolve.
‘The right to do is look after Tom and Maggie’s kids the best way I can. Our relationship can’t carry on if I have to become a parent, it just can’t,’ I shouted back, so tense my fingernails dug into my palms and close to tears.
‘Stupid!’ she spat, and turned and walked away.
I heard the front door slam.
We battled for 3 more days. She screamed and I yelled. I was beyond reason and, with hindsight, she was fighting for all the things she loved. In all the years we had been together we had never fought, barely even argued, it had all been so easy. It made it all the more difficult to find ourselves at such odds now. So hard to see her tears and know I had caused them, but the more she yelled at me the more I was resolved to go and do what I thought was best, and then more sarcastic she became the less I listened to her arguments.
Late one evening I was in the spare room, quietly, sneakily, packing the last few things I wanted to take with me. Kate had been out running and I heard her bound up the stairs and into our room, door crashing behind. I knew she was showering and hurriedly finished off, planning on stowing the bags away until I left. Suddenly the door flew open, Kate wet from the shower and wearing just a towel stood in the doorway and saw the bags. She looked disbelieving,
‘What the fuck are you doing?’
‘Packing,’ I actually gulped.
‘I won’t let you leave.’
‘You can’t stop me.’
‘I fucking well can.’
Rather stupidly I started to laugh, ‘How?’
Her anger seemed to burst out of her. She was on me in a flash, her hands gripping my wrists canlı kaçak iddaa tight. She forced me backwards and I hit the wall with a crash. God, she was strong. I was taller but she was fit and I could see the muscles in her upper arms bulge slightly as she forced my arms up over my head. Her towel dropped off and she pressed against me, the grip on my wrists painful and her raw anger scaring the hell out of me.
‘No,’ she spat, ‘not going.’
She forced one of her legs between mine, trapping me between her and the wall. Suddenly she was kissing me, hard and forceful, crushing my lips with hers and forcing her tongue into my mouth making me breathe through my nose. She pulled back slightly and I saw that her eyes were heavy and hooded; she was visibly very aroused and god, so was I. Her mouth was back on mine, so hard it was bruising and my wrists were released but only so she could use her hands to tear at my shirt, exploding the buttons and forcing it over my arms so I felt trapped once again. With my shirt removed, her hands reached for my bra, pulling so hard the clasp broke and soon that was pulled off. Her hands were instantly on my body pushing me back, with her fingers digging into my breasts. Her lips were on my neck, I could hear her breathing in sharp little sobs as she roughly kissed me, her hips locked against mine.
I was struggling against her, horribly aroused and yet frightened and angry at my own inability to stop her. I managed to get a hand onto her arm to heave it away from my breast but she grabbed it again, her full weight against me, the grip on my wrist suddenly so painful it made me yelp.
‘Jesus Kate, stop it, stop, stop…it! You’re hurting me, please…’
As quickly as she had begun, Kate stopped. A sudden realisation of what she was doing coupled with my anguished cry made her release me quickly and take a step back. She had a look of absolute horror on her face. I stood with my back against the wall, naked from the waist up, cradling my wrist in my hand with tears streaming down my face. With her hands clamped to her mouth and her lovely blue eyes wide with shock she backed up until she hit the bed and sat down abruptly.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ she whispered, staring down at her knees, her hands still covering her face.
I stood and watched her while my breathing returned to normal. My heart ached for her, sitting so still, defeated, with her shoulders drooped. I loved her so much. I couldn’t leave her feeling like this. I could understand her anger and her confusion; after all I was causing it.
I crossed the room quickly and gently took her in my arms, cradling her head against my breast. She was rigid at first, her hands locked to her face, softly saying something that I couldn’t understand. Gradually she uncurled her hands and I felt them moving around my waist hugging me too her. I stroked her hair and murmured soothing words. I couldn’t stop my emotions though, I couldn’t forget the fierce arousal her earlier actions has invoked and with her head nestled against my breasts I felt my nipples respond to her nearness. She did too, her face turned and nuzzled against me. As I looked down I saw her blond head and pale cheeks, and then her mouth nudging against me.
‘Oh Kate, it’s ok, it ok love,’ I murmured.
Her lips latched over my swollen nipple and an electric shock ran through my body making me gasp with the pleasure it caused. Kate moaned as she suckled me, finding comfort at my breast while my own body responded. I felt almost trapped by my desire and made a decision to break the contact. As I did so she looked up at me, her beautiful blue eyes gazing up and my resolve crumbled. Kneeling down in front of her I kept my eyes on hers as my hands grazed up the inside of her thighs, pushing them apart. Breaking eye contact with her, I stared at the blond hair between her legs and the wet pink flesh opening up before me. I dipped my head and gently pushed my tongue against her. I felt her shudder as I pushed through her folds and my lips caressed her clit; my tongue swirled around, touching and tasting. She was so quiet. Normally very vocal, I found her silence arousing and intriguing and used her ragged gasps as an indication of how close she was. She was leaning back, her hands supporting her on the bed when I felt the muscles in her legs contract and she was suddenly jerking against me, short gasping breaths accompanying the little thrusts her hips were making. I slowed my tongue and lips and she relaxed, her hands reaching down and finding mine. My head rested against her soft thigh while our hands entwined and we stayed still, just holding for what seemed like an age.
Suddenly her hands left mine and flew to her hair. Kate’s voice was high, close to tears,
‘Alex, I’m sorry, I didn’t want…I didn’t mean to hurt you…’
I only wanted to reassure her, to make her stop thinking she had done something wrong. So I started to shush her, and as my warm breath brushed canlı kaçak bahis her thigh she suddenly stiffened, her breath rushing out of her.
‘Oh god, oh god Alex, you feel so good.’
My lips brushed over her as she slumped back on the bed, her body stretching out as desire took hold again. I wanted so much to love her and to please her and at that moment I couldn’t bear to leave her. So I let my fingers slide up her thighs again and then under her bottom. She shifted slightly to allow my hands under her and as she settled back down I pulled her body towards me. Her feet were now planted firmly on the floor and as my mouth brushed against her once again I felt her rise up on her toes slightly. I kissed her deeply, my tongue traced along her lips still wet from her earlier orgasm. I took my time and explored, enjoying the soft feel of her against my tongue and lips and loving the way her body writhed underneath me. I started a series of long slow licks the length of her satiny pussy stopping just short of her clit, avoiding contact. Each pass I made across her, I would allow my tongue to dip just slightly inside her. Her hips rose up to meet me wanting more contact and her breathing changed, becoming faster. She was moaning again, I loved the sounds she made; her voice always became deeper and husky, so very sexy. I pressed my fingers into the skin of her bum and pulled her towards me, sinking my tongue inside her and wriggling from side to side. With my lips pressed against her and my tongue deep inside I was lost in her; her warmth, her scent. Her hips were rocking against me, I wanted this moment to last but I wanted all of her. I pulled one hand from underneath her and reached up to her breast, finding her hard nipple and squeezing it firmly.
‘Ohhhh, ohh, Al…Alex, oh please…please,’ Kate struggled to speak, her words timed with her rocking hips and I knew she was totally immersed in the sensations her body was experiencing. My own arousal burned hard between my legs and I wondered if I might actually cum from listening to her. Feeling her need, I moved my lips to cover her clit encouraged by the strangled yelp she made. I let my tongue touch her lightly, stroking gently across the top of her clit with as much control I could manage. Her hips were now rocking so much I could barely hang on so I moved both my hands to her hips and pushed her back down onto the bed as I continued to lightly lash against her with my tongue. The effect was almost instant; she stiffened and howled and started to jerk uncontrollably against me again and again and again. Her sweet taste filled my senses and I moved my tongue to the side of her clit to ease the sensitivity, allowing her thrashing to gradually subside.
My own knees were weak as I stood and looked down at her. She was limp and panting, her hands above her head and her eyes closed. I put my hands under her arms and pushed her fully onto the bed, covering her with the duvet and sliding my body next to hers. Kate reached for me, turning and snaking her arms around me. With no words I simply held her, my lips pressed against her hair, listening to her breathing becoming less ragged. Soon her breaths were deep and regular and the grip she had on me lessened; she was fast asleep. I held her warm sleeping body next to mine for about an hour and then slowly untangled myself from her. Picking up my ruined shirt and my packed bag and feeling almost numb with despair, I left.
Some of it was easy. I coped with the physical things; the cooking, the cleaning, getting the kids ready for school. Being busy helped so much and I was a regular whirlwind of activity. At first, the kids were passive. They did what I asked them to do, ate what was put in front of them, went to school. My own work suffered of course, but with the help of sympathetic colleagues and long hours after the kids were in bed, I kept up. We developed into a routine and I was so tired and stressed that I almost believed the worst was over. Cracks started to appear. Emma, calm and quiet and never far from her sketch pad became withdrawn and would slump into tears at the slightest of things. Harry spent most of his spare time slouched in front of the TV or his laptop, sullen and hardly speaking. Poor little Connie, bemused and bewildered by the events life had thrown at her, retreated into herself and spent hours in her room, with her toys, in a little invented world.
Kate would call, often. She never pushed or accused or started a fight over what I had done to us. She would ask questions and listen, offering advice when it seems needed. She would always tell me that she loved me. I would cry for hours after she had called, physically yearning for her. I began to hate the calls for the effect they had on me but at the same time cherished them for time spent with her. I know I was bad tempered and churlish with her but she persevered despite my moods.
I can remember to the day when things started to change for the kids. I received a phone call from Connie’s school requesting my immediate presence at the school. Instantly worried I was assured Connie was ok, but that the class teacher needed to see me urgently. I drove down there quickly and was intercepted by Donna, Connie’s ‘class mum’, in the car park.
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