New Beginnings

My breathing was still a bit rapid as I felt his hands cup my bulging belly. Moving over it reverently, he bent forward and placed a soft kiss on my shoulder. "I love you," he whispered.

Rolling onto my side, I was aware how uncomfortable those words still made me. Thankfully, Daryl knew it too. And for some reason, in this one thing he had not pushed me; yet I thought.

Covering his hand with my own where it rested upon our child, I turned to press my lips over his heart. I could feel it slamming still against the smooth hard muscles of his chest. I just could not bring myself to say the words. Hell, it was hard enough to admit to myself that my feelings for my young African god were deeper.

It was just that things had happened too fast. One day I was happily married; thinking my life was perfect. The next I was alone to raise a three year old. And before I could even come to terms with all that, he was there; pushing me towards things I wasn't ready for. Well except for the sex, I was definitely ready for his hard black cock: over and over and over again. And he had used that to push me towards the other things.

Looking down at where our fingers were laced together, I saw our gold wedding bands touch. But I was also aware of the heaviness of another set of rings still hanging from his chain about my neck.

I knew that our life was good. Daryl had finished university and would begin his final year for his teaching certificate. I mostly enjoyed my job as a midwife. Ellie, who barely remembered her own father, had accepted Daryl without question. Hell, even our families were adjusting to our unusual relationship. Since his petulant appearance at our wedding, even Kyle had on occasion joined us for a traditional Sunday dinner; rice & peas and fried chicken.

But something...I just could not bring myself to say what even I was slowly coming to accept I might actually feel for my young African god. Even after three months of marriage and with our baby due any day, I could not give him the words I knew he wanted so desperately to hear.

So I gave what I could: my body. Pushing him until he was lying flat on his back, I straddled his hips; much less gracefully than I would have liked considering the size of my forty-one week and three day huge belly. I undulated my hips against his and soon had his cock hard and ready for me again.

Looking into the depths of his black eyes, I guided his cock into my dripping wet cunt; the mixture of our earlier love making slid down his dark cock. Smiling in a more teasing manner than I actually felt at the moment, I whispered. "I think you forgot something." My hands lifted my full breasts in offering as I arched my back and grinded my hips against the base of his generous black cock until I felt another delicious orgasm overtake me.

He did not need a second invitation. His larger hands replaced my own; squeezing my breasts until I was moaning as I rode him. Then looking into my green eyes as if to say that he knew I was simply distracting him, his tongue licked at the tips drawing the tiny drops of moisture into his mouth. He lifted his hips in answer to me; making the grinding even more intense. I came again as I felt his warm mouth close over my right nipple and suck deeply. My breast tingled at the action.

"I think you like that as much as I do," he challenged as he switched to my left nipple and repeated the action. His hips were pounding into me; almost as hard as my own was smashing against his. I needed and wanted so much this wild and almost violent mating. As if it could somehow erase all the remaining worries...as if one more fuck...one more orgasm...would ever be enough from my young African god.

His fingers tangled in my blond-brownish hair. Tugging and holding me in place as his mouth sucked deeply at the fountain of my breasts. Our hips ground and slammed against each other. Our hearts hammered as wildly as our frantic thrusting. His head went back and forth between my breasts as I rode his cock from one orgasm to another and another and another.

Finally with a particularly hard tug of my hair, enough to bring moisture to the corners of my deep green eyes, he slammed his cock deep into my hot pussy; pouring forth his hot cum into me. I felt the firm muscles of his chest tensing beneath my fingers as he continued to squirt over and over again.

Sighing softly, I rolled next to him on our bed. I closed my eyes against the glare of the morning sun as well as the questions in my husband's dark eyes. "Are you ever going to say it?" I heard his deep soft voice against my shoulder.

I wasn't sure what to say. I heard the hurt, but I just couldn't make words. Then I felt a building pressure in my belly. I swear I could almost hear the pop or maybe I just felt it. As my waters broke with a gush, "Fuck..." was my very un-lady-like and unprofessional response.

Shaking my head with a laugh, "Can't we ever do anything normal?" I asked myself as much as my husband. I knew that while television and movies liked to use the drama of waters breaking for effect, actually less than ten percent of labours began in this way.

Drawing a deep breath, Daryl smiled down at me. "Normal is over-rated."

What followed was barely organised chaos. He got Ellie out of bed, dressing her and taking her next door to her Nan and Unca as I called Marge. Even though it was not her weekend to cover, she had agreed to she would be the midwife to attend our birth whenever it happened. Although not completely convinced of some our unusual requests, she had reserved her opinion. I trusted that no matter her personal views, she would do all that she could to allow my birth to progress naturally.

Daryl cleaned up the mess in our room and turned the heat up on the birthing pool as I slowly climbed the flight of stairs in our flat; over and over and over again. The few contractions I had had so far were erratic and not very strong. Eventually it was nipple stimulation that strengthened the contractions until they became more regular as well. I thought it ironic, but Daryl hardly minded. Laughingly he replied, "Whatever it takes, I'm at your disposal."

***

Was that actually yesterday, I thought as I pushed once more. I drew a deep breath as I bore down strongly. My hands reaching between my open thighs, I brushed my fingers against the bluish cheek of our child as it emerged from my body. "Hey you," I whispered as my hands cupped the dark curls of its head. I bit my lip and pushed once more as I gently lifted the head, feeling first one and the other shoulder birthed. I smiled as I lifted the baby towards my bare chest. "Why did I ever doubt you?" I asked Daryl as our son lay between my breasts then.

He smiled with tears glistening in his black eyes. "I told you we needed a son. A matching set to our perfect little girl." He grabbed a warm towel and wrapped it about us. I began to firmly rub our little boys back. Until he opened his eyes a bit and yawned. He drew a breath then and started to mew. Sounding more like a little kitten as it meowed, then building slowly to a full cry that I knew would clear his lungs of the liquid in which he had lived for the past months.

I smiled up into Daryl's face as I brushed a kiss against his lips, "He's perfect. I love you."

He merely shook his dark braids, "Fuck woman, now you tell me." Then he kissed the top of my blond-brownish hair as he looked at our son banging his little head against me as he began the evolutionary search for my nipples. "I'm going to make you pay for that one," he whispered.

But we were a tad busy just then. Our son was looking for nourishment, the placenta to be born. Then we had to introduce Ellie and the others to the newest member of our family. Then after a quick shower as Daryl remade the bed, everyone left us alone, the four of us. We slipped into bed. Although sleep was not to be, the rush of adrenaline was still coursing through us. We simply stared at our now sleeping son with his head of dark curly hair.

I smiled; my genes must be completely recessive I thought. This little boy looking as much like his father as my daughter looked like hers. "What should we call him?" I asked.

"I've been thinking about that. I'd like Robert James: after my dad and..." I felt the knot in my throat preventing words as I simply nodded at the gesture.

Smiling at me as I drew the tiny head once more towards my nipple as the little creature began to stretch and fuss, "Now I think we have some unfinished business," my husband said firmly.

Wincing just a tad as Robert James found what he had been rooting for and drew it strongly into his tiny mouth, I pretended ignorance. "Unfinished business?" I pretended ignorance.

"Yes, I think you had something you wanted to tell me earlier."

Teasingly, I scrunched my face as if thinking deeply, "Really? Must not have been important; can't remember anything."

Equally teasingly, my husband slapped my arse as he watched our son nurse. "Don't play games now, luvy. You were telling me how much you love me." He kissed my lips softly.

I smiled and brushed my hand across his cheek softly. I supposed after the past year I owed him a tad of an explanation. "Yes, I love you, Daryl. I probably have for months. I just couldn't...I couldn't say it. Everything just happened too quickly. You happened too quickly. I'm sorry."

Smilingly he nodded, "I knew I was pushing too fast. Patience never has been one of my virtues. But I wasn't about to lose you. When I was a kid, it was a crush; a kinky fantasy. When James died, I spent days and weeks thinking about you. I knew all the reasons you might reject me. But then I realised that something had changed; somewhere along the way that crush had become love. And I was going to do everything I fucking could to have you."

Kissing me softly, his finger brushed against our son's cheek as the hungry little monster feed ravenously, he laughed. "Like father, like son it would seem. I have said this before Lizzie, probably too damned many times; but I never meant to hurt you. No matter what, you have to believe that."

I nodded knowing he meant it all. Although my life had taken so many turns in the past eighteen months, looking at the two of them, father and son, I was not sure I would have had it any other way.

Chapter Nine

Standing in our bedroom with the towel still wrapped about me, fresh from the shower, I grabbed the door way. My knees actually going weak; my breath knocked from me. Silly, isn't it? A grown woman, a midwife and a mum could so easily be gob smacked by the sight of my young African god sleeping naked in our bed with our ten day old son lying on his chest. The two of them were so peacefully alike. It was not just that Robbie looked so much like his father. It was also the same expression, even their body positions as they slept were mirror images.

Walking quietly to the bed, it was my turn to have my green eyes glisten with unshed tears. I was not completely sure I had dealt with all of the conflicts inside me. Sometimes when I watched Daryl with Ellie, my chest still got so tight I could not breathe. It did not seem fair that she would never know her own dad. It seemed even less fair that she should so easily accept what my mind and heart still struggled with. But slowly I was coming to see the truth in what Daryl had said that day in the kitchen. It was not a contest. Loving him did not diminish the feelings I had had, still did maybe for James. But James was gone and I was lucky as hell that my young African god loved me.

I carefully lifted Robbie from his daddy's stunning muscled chest. Lightly brushing a kiss on top of his dark curls and inhaling his sweet baby smell, I keep my fingers crossed as I place his still sleeping little body in the Moses basket next to our bed. I was aware that he would not stay there for long. When he awoke hungry we would take him back into our bed to nurse and sleep. But I was hoping for an hour or so with his dad before the fussing and screaming began.

Turning back towards the bed, I ran into the solid wall of my husband. Brushing a soft kiss across my lips as his hands disposed of the towel and found my engorged breast; he whispered "You still haven't learned Lizzie how dangerous it can be running into me like this."

Shaking my head and laughing myself as I pushed him back onto the pillow, "Oh I know exactly how dangerous you are, sweetheart." My hand moved down to find his half hard cock as I bent to nibble at his tight dark brown nipples. "Maybe I just like playing with fire?"

His black eyes closed as his braided head arched back against the cream pillow, "Ohhhhh, fuck woman," he growled. Smiling at the womanly power I felt coursing through me, I bent forward taking just the head of that impressive uncut black cock into my warm mouth. Tugging very gently with my hand at the base, I drew the foreskin back enough to run my tongue across the tip.

Licking a drop of pre-cum from the tip I savoured the taste. I was not in an analytical mood at the moment. I was too intent upon torturing my husband just then, but I did register the unique taste. Experience had taught me that each man tasted slightly different. I'll think about the philosophical implications of that another time though. Right now I would rather drive my husband mad and then over the edge.

It took both of my hands to wrap completely around his thick black cock. My pussy was tingling as I watched the play of colours: tone upon tone. My pale white hands worked slowly up and down upon his dark chocolate lollipop. I had long since come to accept this particular fetish of mine. Just as some people were attracted to the same sex...or some guys preferred blonds; I too had a type. And Daryl like James ticked all my boxes, especially the wet box between my legs: very dark, muscular, broad nose and full lips.

Oh yes and uncut. Damn, nothing was like an uncut black cock. Especially to suck, I thought before getting back to the job at hand and mouth. Matching the rhythm of my hands with the sucking and slurping of my warm mouth. A blow job isn't any good unless it is loud and wet; very wet. I alternate sucking with licking along the impressive full length of his shaft and gobbling as much as I can down my throat. Although it was not as much as I would like to. But I figure it was a long term project; learning to deep throat my husband's huge cock. Sometime over the next forty or fifty years I was determined to accomplish the impossible feat of doing just that.

"Dammit woman, you're driving me fucking nuts," my husband growled as he wrapped his large hands through my still damp blond-brown hair. Using them to guide my slurping and sucking to a tempo which soon had him on the edge.

But I was not done with my little game yet; actually I was just getting started. For a few seconds I thought about allowing him the release I knew his body craved; knowing I would have no problem getting him ready for round two. But I was just too determined on torture at that moment. "What? Is your wife a good little cock sucker?" I asked as innocently as I could; considering I formed the words with the tip of that black cock between my pink lips.

"Hell no. She's a great little cock sucker," he spat as he lifted his hips several inches off the bed using his large hands on my head to guide my mouth until he was buried deeper in my throat than he had ever been. Determined not to wuss out now, I forced myself to relax and breath slowly through my nose; allowing perhaps a half an inch more to slide past my vocal cords. I was rewarded with a low growl as I felt his body trembling beneath me.

But I wanted, or was that needed, to play some more. Slowly so as to leave a very wet trail of my salvia along the length of his cock as if a marker of my progress, I released the head of his cock from my lips reluctantly. This time it was an actual whimper I heard. But not for long, turning my attention to the large ball sacks at the base of his cock. First I licked back and forth across the hot skin. I was getting really hot and turned on as I thought about the little light brown boy sleeping in the Moses basket next to us and realised this is where he began. My tongue ran along the dark ridge between his balls.

Slowly I drew his left ball deep into my mouth, using my tongue to outline it as I sucked. Of course, my hands never left that impressive cock as I worshipped for several minutes at his fountain of life. Then slowly I trailed once more to his right nut to repeat the process. I mean you can't have one feeling left out now can we? His breathing was getting even faster and I could feel the muscles in his legs tensing. I knew he desperately wanted to cum.

Two things stopped me from giving him what he wanted at that moment. They overflowed even my largest 38DD bra at the moment and they were bursting full; painfully full. In fact just the thought of what I wanted to do caused drops of thin whitish liquid to drip onto his dark brown thighs where my tits rested.

Slowly and reluctantly I gave up my game of toying with his magnificent balls. I was determined that in a few moments they would not be quite so full. Crawling slowly upward just a matter of inches, yet it was enough to leave a trail of white milk along his thighs. I waited until he opened his dark eyes then. Smiling up at him, "Lay back, lover, I think you are going to enjoy this," I whispering as I kissed at his thighs.

"I enjoy everything about you, Lizzie," he smiled as he curled his arms behind his head lifting it further off the pillow to enjoy the show I had every intention of making heart-stoppingly erotic.

When my breasts came to rest, wrapped around that gorgeous uncut black cock I squeezed gently then slowly rolled the nipples until a light stream of milk splashed around the dark length of him. I watched glorying in the shocked and fascinated look that passed over his face as he felt my warm milk coat his cock. I knew his particular fetish was always my creamy white tits and especially my milk.

I had on more than one occasion driven him mad with a titty fuck, but this time I intended to intensify even that pleasure; using the milk that our child relied upon for sustenance, the milk that in a very real way my body produced only because of what his cock had done: impregnating me with his child. "Does my milk feel good on your hard cock, baby?" I purred in a challenge.

"Fuck Lizzie, you're driving me crazy here," he responded as his dark hands wrapped around my engorged and overflowing tits squeezing his cock even tighter between their valleys. He began to slowly hump against me; the milk lubricating. I knew he would not last long, not on this one. And I had no intention of wasting a single drop of his milk either. The fact that the head of his cock could easily plunge into my mouth on each upward thrust shows just how impressive his cock meat is. But it was my pleasure to take advantage of that; sucking and licking the head of his cock as he titty fucked me.

I was getting hotter and hotter too; this sight playing equally upon my own fetish of tone-upon-tone: white milk, dark brown cock and creamy pale fleshy tits. His fingers upon my nipples slowly expressed the milk as he had seen me do when too full for them to fit into Robbie's mouth. The sensation was drawing me closer to my own orgasm, but I had plans for that too later.

I heard him moan at the same time I felt his hard cock twitch between my boobs. Wrapping my lips around the head in an air-tight seal, I was rewarded with the sweet, salty and tangy taste unique to my young African god. I choose the term ambrosia: nectar of the god's. I drank deeply; determined this time that not even a single drop would fall from my lips. And I drank even though it seemed to go on forever, but I was NOT complaining.