In Love with Lori Ch. 05

Lori stuck her tongue out and grinned at me, that slow, unutterably dirty grin she gets when she's hatching something, or something mad, bad, and nasty but nice has occurred to her. She began humping back at me, digging in her heels and pushing back against me, taking me in even deeper, even as she began pulsing her rectum around me, the sensation not unlike fingers squeezing and rippling along the entire length of my cock. She began to hitch and gasp as I humped madly, ramming my cock into her as hard as I could while she met me thrust for thrust.

We couldn't keep this up for long, no humans could, and I came with a shout of release as I sprayed what felt like an endless amount of hot sperm deep into her bowels. Lori screamed as her own orgasm hit her, the rippling in her rectum now an unstoppable, rhythmic milking sensation, dragging my own orgasm out and chiming with her as I pumped stream after steam of my sperm into her.

We slumped down, completely wrung out, Lori holding me tightly as she trembled and shuddered against me with the aftershocks of her orgasm. My cock finally softened enough to slip from her, Lori murmuring and burrowing against me as her own orgasmic tremors and aftershock died away. After a while, I could feel her fingers on my chest as she tapped me, something she does when she's thinking about something.

"Do you mean what you said earlier, Doctor-Man? About the rest of my life, I mean?"

I grinned back, sure I knew where she was going with this, well, this time anyway.

"Every day, if you want, my darling baby-girl, as many times as I can, that I promise you, although, as you pointed out, you have other holes too; I fully intend to keep them all fully occupied too!"

Lori smirked.

"Done! I want that in our wedding vows, I want a promise of a daily good ole-fashioned Iowa back-country ass-fuck, so you better make it happen, or I'll make good on my promise to yank your leg off, whittle it into a cock and use it on myself if I have to!"

I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Darling-Girl, just how the fuck am I going to make a promise like that in a church full of people? If I try that, I promise you, Sophie will have me finely minced and rendered down into compost for Richard's rosebushes! Try something else, anything but that!"

She looked up at me with huge, sad, puppy-dog eyes, and a heartlessly quivering lip, before:

"I thought you loved me!"" she pouted, " if you did, you would!" came trotting out of her mouth. She did it: she actually played the 'you would if you loved me' guilt-card. I had to grin, especially as I could see just how insincere she was at that moment. I wasn't about to let this go without a fight, though; I mean...

"Alright, how about I solemnly swear, here and now, on that ring on your finger, to hump your rump every day, for the rest of our married life? Does that satisfy Madame?

Lori looked at me with the devil in her eyes and that irresistible smile on her perfect lips.

"Okay Davey, that will be enough for me; you've never broken a promise you swore on mummy-bum, so swear now!"

Grinning at the reminder of our childhood, I made the promise I knew I was compelled to keep.

"Darling Lori, I swear on mummy-bum I will always cram your crevice as and when you demand it, forever and ever, amen. Is that good enough, you tiresome trollop?"

Lori grinned at that, her eyes softening.

"Just as long as I'm always your trollop, darling boy!" she murmured.

"Always and forever, beautiful girl!" I promised, kissing her as she sleepily stretched and hugged me close.

"First ultrasound tomorrow, baby, I'm excited, will they be able to tell us if it's a boy or a girl?" she asked, her eye cocked hopefully at me.

"Not likely, baby-girl, not at only 14 weeks, but we will be able to see and hear the foetal heartbeat."

Lori smiled happily.

"I'm having your baby...!" she murmured, trailing off as she fell asleep. I watched her for a while, enthralled, as always, by her flawless, porcelain skin, her red lips, and her hair, black and glossy as a raven's wing. Charlie always told us with a perfectly straight face that Lori's hair came from his ancestor, a full-blooded Kiowa war-chief, something a small boy from England took in with wide-eyed acceptance; my little sister was a Red-Indian princess! When I got older, of course, I worked it out for myself; Charlie's family originally came from Savannah, Georgia; not too many Kiowa there, but still, when I looked at that mass of lustrous black hair, Charlie's tall-tales about Lori's ancestry were almost believable.

Watching over her, drinking her in, congratulating myself on capturing a true Georgia peach, and feeling her warmth against me, I eventually fell asleep, and dreamed of mother and my father, posing for that painting in the study at Denham Hall.

The ultrasound scan at the hospital in Oxford was just as I expected; what I didn't plan on was the surge of emotion when I saw my baby's heart for the first time; just a tiny little dot thrilling away in the shadows on the screen, but suddenly there was my child, and with that came a surge of almost overwhelming protectiveness, my parental instincts suddenly clicking into high gear. Lori listened to the high-speed chatter of the baby's heartbeat with tears on her cheeks, holding my hand so tight I thought she'd break my fingers.

Now the reality of what we were, and what we were becoming drove home; we were going to be parents, and everything we did from now on had to be for the good of our child; it was a sobering, but welcome thought. It was one of those defining moments for me, the instant when we finally became true grown-ups.

The high lasted all the way back to Sybil's house, where suddenly our good spirits were dashed by the sight of Bella once more lurking, like a turd at a stop-sign, probably come back to pile more venom on now that she'd had the opportunity to think of something choice to say. Lori looked at me and grinned, raring for the opportunity to deal with her this time, so what could I do? I gave her her head, of course...

"David Denham, I have a here a court order allowing me to take immediate vacant possession of Denham Hall and all its environs, I do hope we can make this transition amicably?" she leered unpleasantly, triumph written all over her face, making her look more than ever like a cat licking shit off a nettle.

"Let me see that, please!" asked Lori sweetly, and the old trout handed it over with much bad grace. Lori scanned through it with one raised eyebrow, then looked up and smiled brightly at her.

"Well, it certainly all seems to be in order," at which Bella tried to take it back, but Lori held it out of her reach. "except for this one, small, teeny little clause here, where you've declared yourself to be the owner of record. Now, dear Aunt Bella, we all know that's just a teeny, tiny little fib, or perhaps I should say a great big fat juicy lie, as we happen to have a stack of deeds, endowments and charters four feet high showing that David is clearly the only legal owner of Denham Hall, so once again you've 'used a false instrument to gain a monetary advantage', that is the correct phrase isn't it, David darling?"

I grinned and nodded.

"Absolutely correct, darling girl! Do go on!"

Lori smiled sweetly at her and pretended to look through the document again.

"Fraud is such a sly little crime, isn't it, Bella dear, especially when perpetrated by one's own family? Not that you are actually part of this family, of course, and I happen to know that dear David's trustee's are positively straining at the leash to have you tossed in the pokey after the last time you tried this; imagine how they'll rub their hands in glee when they get this, and they will, be assured of that!"

Lori stopped to let that sink in.

"And by the way, Bella, and this should worry you, the magistrate who signed this is not going to look favourably on the nasty, lying, devious, disgustingly greedy old woman who involved him in her scheme to defraud a family member out of their inheritance, and committed perjury by swearing under oath that she was making a true statement, knowing it was actually a lie."

Lori looked at her pityingly.

"If you had just waited, David would have made provision for you; he's not like you, and he feels a strong sense of responsibility for his family, no matter how obnoxious they are, plus of course he loves Rosie dearly, and unfortunately, through no fault of her own, she is your granddaughter, so he would have done that for you for Rosie's sake. You should have waited, Bella, perhaps you might have been pleasantly surprised, but this, this made sure that nothing will be forthcoming. Way to shoot yourself in the foot, honey! Now, you're making no friends here, so why don't I keep this safe for my husband while you climb back on your broomstick and head back into the West, I'm sure your flying monkeys must be missing you!"

Bella's face was a picture, but I'm not sure of what, as she drew herself up to her full height, spun on her heel, and stumped away. Sybil and Rosie came out then, and linked arms with Lori as they watched Bella disappear into the distance, where Maude's car once again waited for her.

My aunt nudged Lori and grinned at her.

"You know, dear, I still have my great-grandfather's old elephant gun; if you like, you can take a pot-shot at her, it has three barrels, if you miss her with one barrel you've still got the other two!"

*

Back inside the house, Lori had an announcement to make.

"Aunt Sybil, Davey and I think it's time we struck out on our own. The house in Little Brooking has been surveyed and there's no issues, so I want to start getting moved-in; the stuff from back home will go nicely in there; all my stuff, my mom & daddy's stuff is already in storage in Oxford, so I think it's time we stopped imposing on you and got our own house settled. Thank you so much for helping us settle down, and for making us feel so at-home with you, Aunt Sybil, but now I think it's time to be in our own home, instead of cluttering-up yours. I know you need your privacy as much as we do, and much as I've loved living here in the middle of Davey's family, I think it's time to go."

Aunt Sybil was smiling through all of this.

"I agree, dear; you two, and the one who's coming along, need your own home now, and even though I'll miss you, you're still only a short way away. It was lovely having you here, and it will be nice having family close by again; now that Richard and Sophie are back for good, and with you here, this part of the world will once more be a Denham enclave."

Lori also had a surprise for Rosie.

"Rosie, I know how much you mean to Davey, and I know you and Jimmy are planning to get married one day, so Davey and I have a little gift for you; call it an early wedding present. The two cottages next to the house are of no use to us, we have all the space we'll ever need in the main house, and more, and I know you and Jimmy want a place of your own, so please accept Stone Cottage and Rose Cottage as a gift from Davey and me. With just a little work, they can be turned into one larger house, whether you do that is up to you. We love you and Jimmy, and we want you both near us, so now you will be, in a home of your own, if you want it. And don't worry; when Adam has finished university, there will be something for him, too, a gift from Davey and me in memory of his Uncle Jerry."

Rosie was wide-eyed with astonishment, as was Jimmy, both of them speechless. Rosie got up and walked over to me, hugging me harder than Lori ever had.

"Thank you, Robin Hood!" she murmured. I hugged my favourite cousin and playmate just as enthusiastically; I may have been gone a long time, but most of my earliest memories revolved around Rosie and her parents, and she was the closest thing I'd ever had to a sister before Lori came along. I wanted her and Jimmy to be happy and secure, in their own home somewhere near, as I knew Lori needed her, and I knew for certain the baby would need his or her Aunt Rosie in days to come. Perhaps all that money in those trust funds could be of some use to the entire family, not just me, as my father had intended; times change, after all.

*

Epilogue.

Lori and I were married formally in the stately, cathedral-like gothic chapel of Kings College, my father's old college at Cambridge University, two months after Sophie returned to England. As she'd promised, Aunt Sophie sat on the Bride's side and wept almost theatrically, along with Aunt Sybil, and Uncle Richard gave Lori away as though he was handing me the rarest of Stradivarius violins, his face beaming with paternal pride when he placed her hand in mine, before scowling at me like I was some incipient rapist about to deflower his pristine little girl, just as Aunt Sophie had predicted so long ago...

Richard Junior and Hugo, along with two of my oldest friends from school, Harry Waterfield and Andrew Edgeworth stood with me as my groomsmen, while the fourth member of our quartet from school-days, Jack Cameron, was my Best Man, while Jimmy acted as Usher. Rosie, my cousin, my childhood playmate and best friend, was Lori's Maid of Honour, and two of Lori's childhood friends from Des Moines were her bridesmaids, but more about them later...

Our first child, a gorgeous, golden-haired little boy with Lori's arresting blue-violet eyes, was born 4 months later, almost to the day. It really looks to me like Lori's plan to catch a baby worked, in the best possible way; it got me the most beautiful girl in the world, and she gave me a beautiful son, who looks amazingly like me when I was that age; maybe that's a good sign.

Charlie is over a year old, now, and Lori is pregnant again, with a girl this time, and we live in our elderly, rambling dream house, complete with big, comforting fireplaces, warm chimney corners, reassuringly solid polished wood floors and an abundance of interesting little rooms to explore and get lost in, big friendly dogs, a duck pond and apple orchard, and a paddock with two mild-mannered little donkeys and a gentle giant called Tiny who occupies a large part of Lori's heart.

Thankfully the house is not too far from the hospital in Oxford where I now work as a consultant surgeon on the Cardiothoracic surgical intervention team. Jimmy and Rosie and their baby live a minute away in their own sprawling, comfortable conversion of the two redundant cottages on the piece of land we bought; my favourite cousin and her husband, and the cutest little girl in the world, secure in their own home, and close-by when we need them. They're my family, too, after all, and I feel better for having them near; Jimmy even added "Denham" on to his name so little Gemma would always carry the family name, along with his own, a compliment to Lori and me that won't be forgotten.

We live a simple life, my salary is more than enough for our needs, and I have all I could ever want right there when I get home from work. I have no intention of missing out on a second of my children's lives, so work takes a back seat to Lori and our boy, plus the daughter to-be, little Sophie when she finally gets here.

Uncle Richard is de-facto head of the family and arbiter of all disputes, not that there are any; he and Aunt Sophie live not far from us, and Charlie thinks they're his grand-parents; he calls them "Gampa" and "Nana"; they both dote on Lori, and she feels like she has parents again; she even calls Sophie 'Mom', and Richard is 'Papa'. Charlie is really their property, I only get to see him fleetingly on weekends, as he seems to spend most weekends either sleeping at his grandparents' house, or perched on Sophie's hip as she carts him around, apparently afraid to let him out of her sight for even a second.

If we have a fight, which is very rare, I must admit, Lori goes to see Richard and weeps on his shoulder, and before I know it, I'm having a father/son chat with him while Lori stands to one side smirking, but I have to be honest, he is scrupulously fair in his dealings with us, refusing to take sides and encouraging us instead to kiss and make up, something I find extremely easy to do. It's immensely comforting to have family of their calibre to fall back on when we need it. Sophie is still the most formidable lady I've ever met, I'm just constantly grateful she's on our side, because I really can't contemplate the sheer awfulness of having her as an adversary.

Lori and Sophie have a business together, organising weddings and country-house events, and they've browbeaten, terrorized, cajoled, and emotionally blackmailed poor Jimmy into working with them, or for them, I'm not sure which; I do know that Sophie scares him pale; this from a man who once strangled a Rottweiler attack dog in Sarajevo with one hand, while simultaneously shooting the shit out of the sniper-nest it was guarding with a Glock and a single clip of ammo in the other hand.

They pay him well, though, and so they should, considering the hoops they make that poor man jump through. At least he has Rosie and the baby to make up for being continuously terrorized by Aunt Sophie, and of course the fact Sophie absolutely dotes on baby Gemma and Rosie goes a long way toward keeping him sweet, plus he also adores Lori, and would walk through the fire for her; Richard was right; Ladies Who Organise are the best sort to have around.

Jimmy also runs a very successful holiday cottage business, having renovated all the cottages on the Denham Hall grounds, and built a few more to take advantage of the rolling scenic views of the Oxfordshire plain. He stays scrupulously far away from the hall itself, though; memories of what we saw there ensure he gives the place a very wide berth.

My cousins Hugo and Richard are both godfathers to Charlie; he's the apple of their eye, they even installed super hi-tech child-seats in their Aston Martin's so they can take him joy-riding, which gave Lori some serious concerns, but a stern word from Aunt Sophie seems to have curbed their urge to see how thrilled they can make him...

Both of them have already staked claims on Sophie, when she eventually chooses to make her grand entrance, so our children will be growing up surrounded by family who dote on them and adore Lori.

All that money in those trust funds is staying there; perhaps one day Charlie and Sophie and any other brothers and sisters, or other family will need it; I don't, I'm perfectly content to live here, like this, with my family around me; if Charlie taught me anything growing-up, it was that hard work and the fruits of your own labour are the best reward of all; I didn't earn that money, it was set aside to ease my life, but my life is perfect just the way it is, so maybe the kids will think of something worthwhile to do with it when they grow up.

Lori and I have agreed on one thing though; they're not finding out about it until they're legally adults; Lori doesn't want them growing up entitled, trust-fund brats, so they'll have to have a plan for their lives before they get anything from those funds. That's that pragmatic mid-Western work-ethic showing through, something Charlie and mother would have been proud of.

Denham Hall is still in a state of near collapse; Lori's concerned that the family stuff in there will get damaged or lost, and is having the place stripped and everything put in storage; it's taking time, though, because there's such a lot of stuff in that huge, sprawling neo-gothic madhouse, and nobody will work there after dark, I wonder why...?

I never wanted that scary place, and the thought of living there after what happened still fills me with an overwhelming urge to be somewhere else entirely. We offered the paintings to the National Portrait Gallery, but they took one look at my villainous ancestors, shuddered, and politely declined.