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

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.

"Why you worry for nothing, Julie?" she asked me gently. "Nguye't and Jamie not back until Tuesday, she talk to you then, do not fret; if anything is wrong she tell you, do not worry, little girl!"

I couldn't help worrying though; these people were my family, but they were strangers. What if they were like my mother? What if they were as big a bunch of bastards as my mother had been? What was I letting myself in for? I still had time to grin at her calling me 'little girl', though, and she smiled back, smoothing the hair back out of my eyes.

"You think it funny, little girl? I see you today, and you are mother now, but I still see little girl who did not know how to laugh and be happy, just like when I see Jamie now, I see little boy sister give me so long ago; he is still same, still my little boy, and you are still same little girl, still so young, so full of fear and doubt. Do not be; do you think Dada, or me, or Nia let anything happen to you and Mark? Nia my daughter, but you are my little girl, and I say to you now, there is nothing to fear from these people, I promise you!"

I tried again to articulate what was troubling me, but Mummy was dismissive of my fears.

"Julie, I meet this man, he sit where you sitting, he tell me about himself, he not try to lie or not tell whole truth, and I believe him; he have honest eyes, just like Jamie, like Mark, too. Jamie meet him, Jamie like him; trust Jamie, he your brother, he not let anyone hurt you!"

I relaxed somewhat; Jamie may be big and amiable, and fond of silly jokes and daft pranks, just like Dada Morrison, but he also has a mind like a precision instrument, and anyone trying to put one over on him soon learns the error of his ways. Nia's even less accepting than Jamie, and much more suspicious, but just as perceptive (no surprises there, they both get it from Dada Morrison), so if they were satisfied with this Darryl Morgan I should be as well. But I worried anyway.

By the time Mark came home, I had dinner well under way, both girls were napping in the play-pen, and I was beginning to relax. Mummy had put my mind at ease somewhat, but the curiosity, mixed with trepidation, still squirreled around inside me. Mark could tell I was on edge over this whole thing, and while his solution to calm me down, slipping his hand into my panties and stroking me gently while he nibbled my neck, had a certain appeal, I was still far too highly strung to really enjoy my own Man-tottie groping and feeling me up.

After dinner, we put the children down with their bottles, and once they were asleep, Mark carried them up to their beds, two little golden heads lolling against him as he tip-toed upstairs. I cleaned-up while he was gone, then tried to curl up with him and watch some TV, but I still couldn't relax.

Eventually Mark got fed-up with me fidgeting next to him, so he clicked-off the TV, picked a book off the shelf, kissed the top of my head, and disappeared upstairs to read while I rearranged the kitchen and cleaned-up yet again.

I finally gave up trying to distract myself and followed Mark, finding the bedroom in darkness as I slipped in. As I began to undress, Mark suddenly slid out of bed, sitting up on the bed and switching on the bedside lamp as he pulled me close.

"My job, Tink!" he murmured, squeezing my bum as he nuzzled between my breasts. I held him close and twirled my fingers in his soft hair as he unzipped my skirt and pulled it down before once again squeezing and massaging my bum cheeks and the tops of my thighs.

"You need to relax, little girl!" he whispered, making me gasp as he gently nipped my nipple with his lips through the fabric of my blouse, sending a sudden wave of warmth through me, making my pussy itch.

Now his hands were doing more than just squeezing; now his fingertips were running up and down inside the cleft of my cheeks, his fingertips making me jump every time they brushed against my suddenly sensitive rosebud. My nipples were stiffening too, rubbing unbearably against the cups of my bra.

"Mark..." I murmured, and he read my mind, his hand sliding up inside the back of my blouse to unhook my bra and release the pressure against my nipples, before slipping around to gently squeeze my breast as his thumb brushed my nipple. For a second I saw stars as all the sensations collided together, then my head cleared as I began to unbutton my blouse, freeing myself so Mark could suck, lick and caress my stiff nubs with his talented lips.

Mark pulled my blouse off, and let my bra drop to the floor as he pulled me closer to lick and flick my nipples with his tongue-tip, sending sharp little jabs of pleasure running through me. As he did, he pulled the waistband of my panties; I thought he wanted to pull them off, then I felt them rip as he tore first one side then the other, literally tearing my panties off.

"If you'd asked nicely, I'd have taken them off, Lost Boy!" I whispered into his hair. His only response was to suddenly yank that torn scrap of cloth from between us, and pull me onto his lap to sit astride him, with that thick column of flesh suddenly rubbing against the lips of my throbbing pussy. As our lips crushed together, I felt him slowly thrusting against me, my pussy seeping and coating him with my juices as he rubbed himself against me, torturing me as the ridged underside of his cock rubbed repeatedly against my tender clitoris, stoking the fires to an almost unbearable level.

"Mark...!" I moaned, rubbing right back against him, feeling my labia dragging along his length as I slid my wet gash against him. My lips found his, and we kissed, hard, our lips sealed together as he held my cheeks tightly, holding me against him as we rubbed together, until I couldn't take it any longer. I raised myself up and slid him into me, gasping at the feel of his thick, hard muscularity filling me completely, the plum-sized head of his cock bumping against my cervix and sending waves of lustful pleasure racing through me.

Mark squeezed my bum even tighter as I rode him, his hands pulling my cheeks apart and stretching my anus obscenely as I humped myself on top of him, while my arms were locked around his neck and my lips were glued to his. Harder and faster we humped, Mark thrusting into me as I drove myself down onto him, the first coils of orgasm already uncurling inside me.

When it came, it blasted a path of white hot fire clear through the middle of me, and I bit down on his shoulder to stifle the scream as my orgasm raged and burned through me. Mark gave a hoarse, guttural cry as he, too, climaxed, his cock swelling and pulsing as his hot semen boiled inside me, jet after jet bathing my cervix in his essence and filling me with his life.

Mark lay back on the bed, pulling me down with him, his arms firmly around my waist as his still stiff cock continued to fill me, every movement against him a delight as my clitoris rubbed against that wiry golden thatch of his pubic hair. We lay there, mewing contentedly as the rush of lovemaking gave way to the languor of afterglow, Mark's softly insistent hands rubbing my back, squeezing my bottom, or, increasingly, pulling my cheeks apart and brushing suggestively over the tender tightness of my rosebud. His intentions were so transparent, but I knew he'd never force me to do that, much as I liked it, so I let him off the hook.

"Something on your mind, Lost Boy?" I husked in his ear, squeezing him with my pussy muscles. "What's the matter, I thought you were feeling lucky?"

I raised myself up on my elbows to look him in the eyes. Mark grinned and pulled me back down to him, kissing me as he once more squeezed and massaged my bum. I broke our kiss to nip his bottom lip.

"Well, are you going to lube me up, or are you going to try and shove that thing in dry? Clock's ticking, Hotshot, come and get it!"

I could feel him grinning as he grabbed my bum and slowly slid his thick cock out of me, all my nerve endings thrilling as he did so, and that momentary feeling of desolation and emptiness before he rolled me onto my back and dipped his finger into my gaping pussy, then slowly rubbed around my tight hole, wetting and lubricating me with our own mixed juices.

As I grinned in anticipation, he pushed his finger into me, making me first gasp with the sudden invasion, then smile as I waited for him to make me feel good. Mark showered my face in small kisses as he gently frigged my bum, sliding his finger in and out, then a second finger, making me gasp and giggle as he stretched me open a little more, getting me ready for what was coming next.

As he frigged me, I squeezed and stroked his fat cock, rubbing my thumb over the crown to spread the lubricant oozing from him all over it, making him glossy and slick, shining him up for what I wanted him to do with that lovely appendage. Finally I couldn't wait any longer.

"Mark..." I whispered, and he grinned at me as he positioned himself over me. I held him and aimed him just right, and he leaned down and clamped his mouth over mine as he slowly slid his big cock into my tight bum-hole, stretching me so wonderfully. All my nerve-endings thrilled and sparkled as he fucked me the way I loved most. Every time we did this, it was like the first time, all our connection and need for each other melding together as we joined in such an intimate and taboo way.

He went in the way he always did, slowly and carefully at first, giving me time to accommodate his girth and enjoy the sensation of being stretched by him, which for me was the pinnacle of what we did here; that, and the knowledge that he only wanted to do this with me, and only me.

This was one of our favourite ways of making love, not having sex; it was ours, and no-one else could ever have had that from either of us, not even when we were apart, not even David, the man I'd once thought could be the one to help take away the pain of losing Mark.

As I relaxed he fucked me harder and faster, until I was wrapped around him, my legs locked around his waist, lips pasted to his, humping madly as he rammed that thing into me, his strokes getting shorted and harder. Knowing he was approaching his climax stoked the fires inside me, and so we thrust and pounded against each other, gasping and moaning.

Finally, I couldn't hold back any longer, screaming into his mouth as orgasm once more burned and surged through me, switching every nerve ending in my body to overdrive. As I came, Mark groaned as I tightened around him, his cock swelling to fill my rectum as I felt him pump deep inside me, again and again, filling me completely with his thick, hot semen.

We slumped down together, Mark a dead weight on me as his heart thundered against mine, our sweat gluing us together while we panted and sobbed for breath. I only ever came so seismically when Mark fucked my bottom like that. That was the gift my Lost Boy gave me again and again, and I never tired of it.

Mark groaned and rolled off me, holding me so I rolled with him, ending up with me lying on his chest while his hands clamped hold of my bum, their customary resting place, and his still-hard cock firmly ensconced in my bum, tiny, thrilling muscular tremors rippling through it, keeping me on the boil. After a few minutes of warm silence, Mark kissed the top of my head, his way of getting my attention.

"Wassamatter, Mark..." I slurred, almost asleep, tired-out after our recent exertions, but still conscious of that thick piece of man-meat buried inside me.

"Are you relaxed now, Little Plum?" he murmured, his warm hands stroking my back, his fingers drifting now and then to the very apex of my bum crack, and gently rubbing my tailbone, something I find very relaxing. I grinned at his question; Mark had some very...definite ways of relaxing me, no two ways about it!

"Relaxed and happy, Lost Boy!" I replied, kissing his chest and resting my head on him, listening to his heartbeat. Markie does that when she's feeling sleepy; she'll climb on him and plonk her head on his chest, and two seconds later, she's out like a light. He was having the same effect on me, but before I fell asleep, I had something I wanted to say, and something I wanted to ask him.

"Mark, these people in Bristol, this Darryl and Emma, and any others who crop-up, they may be very nice people, and I know they're relatives, but I want you to know they're not my family; my family's right here; you, the girls, Mummy, Dada, Nia and Jamie, they're our family, and I'll never forget that; they were here when we needed them, and I'll always owe them for that. I just thought you should know."

Mark hugged me close as he spoke, his voice rumbling in his chest.

"Tink, I know you needed to know, I sort of did as well, and I know how you feel about everyone here; I feel exactly the same. But, these people in Bristol, they deserve a chance, too; they never did anything to us; mum made sure they never even knew where we were, she kept them from us, and because she did, she hurt them too. Mummy-Anh says they're good people; I believe her. Let them in, Tink, it can't hurt, and you never know, you might even like them."

I looked at him in astonishment, seeing only sincerity in his eyes, and smiled as he lightly pinched my bottom.

"There's something else, Lost Boy..." I began, once again leaning up on him so I could look into his eyes. "It's about us, Mark, and what comes next."

He looked puzzled, but waited while I looked for a way to say what I wanted to say.

"You are happy, aren't you? I mean here, now, just being a normal, family man, two kids, car, home in the suburbs, yes? You don't wish things had been...different, not like this?"

He smiled and jiggled my bottom.

"Of course not, Wee Wendy; I have you, so I have everything I want. Yes, I'm very happy. What's the matter, Tink?"

This was it. I drew a deep breath, and plunged on.

"Baby, we're settled now, we have a home of our own, that we own, you're moving up the ladder at work, we have everything we want, but there's one more thing. Mark, I know we've only talked about this in passing, but I've been thinking about this a lot, and, well, Markie will be going to pre-school pretty soon, and..."

Mark cocked an eyebrow at me.

"Go on, Tink..." he murmured.

"...and I want to have another baby!" I gabbled, getting it all out in one breath. Mark pulled me up closer to him, and kissed the tip of my nose.

"Are you sure, Little Plum? Nia's going to be a real handful in a year or so, Markie even more so. Are you going to be able to manage her, and Markie, and cope with a new baby as well?"

I looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but concern there.

"I'll be fine, Mark, I managed with Markie and Nia, I'll cope, don't you worry; I have mummy as well, and Nia, and Shelagh, everyone I need, Mark, and I so want this baby, for me...and for you!"

Mark smiled at me, his hair once again tumbling down over his eye, making me itch to sweep it back up and off his face again.

"For me...?" and it was my turn to grin.

"Well, who knows, maybe next time one of your boy-wigglers will get through...!"

His smile became wistful, faraway.

"A son..."

As he spoke I felt him stiffen even further inside me, and as our lips met I once more began slowly sliding up and down on him, feeling the thrill once again as his ridged cock again rubbed all the nerve endings in my anus. Mark clasped hold of my bum even tighter, pressing me tightly against him, and began slowly thrusting into me as I rubbed myself against him, the tangle of wiry hair at the base of his cock just enough to scratch the itch in my throbbing clit. This way always set me off quickest, and as the sensations rippled and surged through me, I could feel the throbbing of his cock as he fought to hold back, to wait for me.

It took only a few thrusts from him, combined with the delicious friction against my clit, before that feeling once again welled-up inside me, huge and unstoppable. Mark felt it too, and as I once more groaned and trembled in ecstasy, hot juices flooding out of me and soaking him, Mark gave a strangled groan as his cock leaped like a live thing inside me, swelling up to fill me completely as powerful spurts of hot semen pumped into my arse, his cock hammering me as he jammed his seed deep inside me one more time.

I pulled him into the shower, after what we'd been doing we needed it, and once we were clean and fresh, he ambushed me again, holding me flat against the cool tiled surface as he once more hammered his cock into my willing pussy, pumping yet more of his rich, creamy, life-giving spunk into me; the thought of making another baby with me had hoisted his libido through the ceiling, and now he couldn't keep his hands off me; not that I was complaining, you understand!

At last, dried off and almost too tired to move, I slid back into bed with my darling Lost Boy, filled with love and hope for our future. Mark pulled me closer, and kissed me gently, caressingly, all his tenderness and love in his kiss. I kissed him back, and held him close.

"Make a baby in me, Lost Boy, make a baby soon!" I whispered.

"If you're sure about this, Tink..." he murmured, but of course I was sure; this was what my Lost Boy needed; it was what I wanted to give him. Mummy was right about one thing; I had the means to heal him, but so did his children, now and future; they would be the key to his heart, they always had been, of that I was certain; it would be our family, our children, who would help show him the way to let that little boy out again.

*

Two days later, Nia came to see me, to tell me about Darryl, his family, and my aunt Emma. She told me nothing new, but then she showed me something that made my blood freeze; it was a picture of my aunt; for a moment all my long-forgotten fears stirred deep inside me. Emma looked so much like mum that I almost threw the camera down; my demon was back, and she was right there, in the palm of my hand! Nia took me by the wrists and held me as the remembered fears threatened to rise up all over again; she was dead, she couldn't hurt me anymore, yet she was there, smiling at me...

"Jules, JULES!" Nia's voice penetrated the fog.

"Jules, it's not her, Julesey, let it go, it's not her, sweetie, you're okay, it's not her!"

Fright and hysteria threatened to bubble over inside me, and only Nia's calm, strong presence kept me with her; I wanted to run, to hide, to deny her, to scream defiance at her, to make her go away, to send her back to Hell with all the other hell-bitches. Nia held me as I trembled.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, I didn't think...perhaps you're not ready to meet them just yet, maybe a little more time, yes?" she murmured, and I nodded, still not trusting myself to speak. Finally I stopped trembling, and Nia pulled a tissue from her pocket so I could dry my eyes. She snapped the camera off, and grinned at my quizzical look.

"Another time, eh, Julesey? I've got some other shots, when you're up to it, you can have a browse; no pressure, hun. I've got a shot of your cousin, and his wife, who are both very nice people, by the way, and I think you might recognize Darryl...!"