Message-ID: <24532asstr$960304291@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: VBwrites@aol.com
X-Original-Message-ID: <a2.5475e7c.266d88c6@aol.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Paternity (8/10) (Virago Blue)(MF, orgy, mf, oral, Rom)
Date: Tue, 6 Jun 2000 11:11:31 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/24532>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw, apuleius, IceAltar
<1st attachment, "Paternity~8.txt" begin>
* * * Continued from Part 7 * * *
Thirty minutes later Parker knocked on my door, just as I was putting
the finishing touches on a pasta salad and fresh fruit. I grabbed a
dishtowel, wiping my hands as I opened my door to him. He was turned away
from me for the briefest second. In that second I realized I felt
attracted to him again. His profile was virile and strong and when he
turned to smile at me I felt a tug at my heart. He pushed a hand through
his short hair before stepping into my home.
"You're dressed up today," Parker commented.
I shrugged, looking down at my cream-colored skirt and peach silk
blouse. "I dress like this all the time." I winked at him.
"Where's your sling? Shouldn't you be wearing it still?"
"I'll put it on in a minute." I started to set the table. Parker came
up behind me in my small kitchen.
"Nuh uh, lady, let me do that." Parker nudged me aside and grabbed some
dishes and silverware. I was embarrassed for him to see my sparse
utensils. He dug around the drawer, passing up a Batman crazy straw,
plastic forks and spoons to finally find two matching forks. "Do you want
the jet fighter spoon or can I use it?" He laughed. I laughed with him.
"I used it this morning. It's your turn." We both giggled as he set the
table, placing the salad and plate of fruit in the center of my small
dining table. I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of ice
tea.
He took it from me with a frown. "Sit down and tell me where that sling
is."
I smiled and sat down. My arm was hurting but I was trying to hold off
on taking any of the pain medication since it made me groggy. "In my
bedroom on my dresser." Parker pointed at an open door off the living room.
I nodded.
He knelt in front of me with the sling, carefully lifting it over my
head and settling it on my shoulders. His hand ran up the back of my neck,
pushing my hair back over the neck band of the sling. Carefully he slid my
arm into the sling. I took the opportunity to study him once again.
His brow was slightly creased, with concern or worry. I resisted the
urge to run my fingers over his tanned skin. His lashes were long and
dark, veiling his blue eyes from me. His eyes took me in slowly before
drifting back up to my face. I blushed. He smiled thinly, as if to
apologize for being caught examining me. "Thank you," I said.
We talked through lunch. I told him of my experience that morning with
Lance. He told me a few stories of his own about Lance. I realized that
maybe I was treated better than most while in Lance's domain but my fears
regarding Lance's paternity increased threefold. How could I possibly
bring that bastard into my son's life? If . . .
Parker cleared the table, rinsing the dishes off in the sink. He turned
to look at me. I looked back expectantly. His look worried me. "Torie, I
wanted to tell you something. It's about Blake."
I took a deep breath, feeling the muscles in my belly and chest
constrict. "What happened?"
"His family has decided to take him off of life support sometimes this
evening. I'm going to be there. I thought that if you wanted to see
Blake, today would be your last time. His brain stopped functioning a long
time ago. They were still holding out for a miracle. It's too late for
that." Parker sat down next to me, rubbing my back. I should be the one
comforting him.
"Now? Can I go up there now?" I asked through my quickly forming tears.
"I'll take you. C'mon." Parker stood, reaching for my hand.
I had conditioned myself to expect the worst before walking into Blake's
hospital room. I didn't prepare myself enough for the sight that faced me.
It was hard, so hard, to see him lying there. He didn't even remotely
resemble the man I knew. I approached his bed slowly, my eyes trying to
find something on his body that told me it was Blake. His face was
virtually unrecognizable. His beautiful brown eyes were forever swollen
shut, the skin on one side burned and scraped from his ordeal during the
accident. A bandage covered most of his skull. I closed my eyes and sat
down, reaching for his hand, the only thing on the man that wasn't marred
by violent death. I cradled his hand in my hands, caressing each finger. I
ran my hand up his arm, now limp with impending death, and remembered how
strong those arms used to be. I slid my fingers lightly up the muscle of
his bicep, marveling at how perfect this part of him remained. I pushed
back the sleeve of his hospital gown and smiled. There on his shoulder was
the tattoo of the Tasmanian Devil. I remember when he was inked, all of
sixteen years old. He was so proud of his tattoo, showing it off at
school. All the kids were impressed. Taz could have been his nickname, the
way he whirled into our lives. I touched the tattoo and smiled, also
remembering how much trouble he got into when his mother found out. I
kissed the back of his hand, not wanting to break away. Tears ran down my
face as I rocked with him, murmuring against his hand, "I'm so sorry. So
sorry." I cried for Blake, I cried for his family and I cried for myself.
But mostly I cried for Scotty, if this man was indeed his father. "I
should have said something years ago. It's all my fault. This would never
have happened if I had only spoken up . . . " I continued to cry against
him, stopped only by a warm hand on my shoulder. I turned to look into the
same brown eyes of Blake in the face of an elderly woman, his mother.
I was stunned. I didn't know what to say to this woman who had lost her
own son. I felt her pain but only partially. How could I possibly
understand how she felt? I stood and walked into her open arms and we
cried. We cried for a long time, just holding on to each other.
Blake was pronounced dead at 7:12 pm that night. Two days later I was
at his funeral crying as I watched Parker stoically carry his best friend's
coffin to the family burial plot. I watched him brush a tear from his
face, wanting to enfold him in my arms and comfort him. Maybe later, I
told myself. Let him alone for now.
The next day I called the lab. Blake's family had arranged for the
saliva sample and blood test to be taken from Blake the day he died.
Parker had also shown up. Lance had not.
I waited until later that evening to call Lance at his home.
Fortunately Lance answered the phone. I honestly don't know what I would
have done if anyone else had picked up the phone at that moment, I only
wanted Lance to understand how serious I felt about this issue. My voice
on the other end of the line shocked him into submitting to my request, but
not without a healthy dose of name-calling. I really couldn't afford an
attorney and that was the only way I could think to get him moving.
Lance showed up at the lab the next morning. Now all we had to do was
wait for the results. Six weeks was a very long time.
During the next few weeks Parker and I visited each other regularly. I
was a little tentative about Scotty getting to know Parker but in the end
my worries were unfounded. Parker and Scotty got along like buddies.
Their relationship was different than any other I've ever witnessed with
Scotty. Parker didn't act like a father-figure or even as an adult with a
role of authority. He acted more like a big brother, a big brother that
could show Scotty new things, introduce him to new boy-related activities.
I could see immediately how impressed Scotty was in Parker's presence. I
also couldn't help but notice how Parker enjoyed every minute of his time
spent with my son.
Three years earlier Parker had built a house about forty minutes outside
of town. The two-story house with its dormer windows and multi-gabled roof
sat on several acres of land, all of it surrounded by a white fence. He
kept a few horses, mostly for other people since he didn't have much time
for riding himself. He also added a pond stocked with fish. This pond was
a constant source of wonder for Scotty. He found that he loved to sit and
fish, sometimes for longer than an hour. Keeping Scotty still for an hour
was a great accomplishment. Parker showed him how to bait a hook and cast
his rod far into the center of the pond. Scotty's forehead would crease in
concentration as he watched the bright orange and white float bob in the
water, eager for a bite. I'll never forget the moment he caught his first
fish. Parker helped him reel it in, cheering him on the whole time.
Scotty was squealing with excitement. Parker was too, nearly. Scotty
hugged Parker around his neck at that point. I hugged them both. We were
almost a happy family.
Later that night, after Scotty fell asleep in the big recliner Parker
kept in front of the fireplace. Parker and I stepped outside to the deck
to enjoy the evening. I could still see Scotty sleeping contentedly in the
chair as I rocked slowly in the swing, sipping the good wine Parker just
poured for me.
"What are you feeling right now, Torie?" Parker asked. He settled
himself in the swing next to me. I turned and met his eyes. He corrected
the motion of the swing, his eyes never leaving mine.
"I'm feeling happy for once, you know, not worried for a change. That's
been a long time coming." I took a sip of the cabernet. "I know it will
change soon."
Parker nodded. He turned to look out over his backyard. A horse
whinnied in the darkness. "Scotty is such a great kid. You've done a
remarkable job with him, Tor. I can't help but wonder how you handled it
all, being alone all those years. It had to be tough." He reached across
the short distance between us and held my hand.
Lightly I squeezed his finger, slowly rubbing my thumb back and forth
over his hand. "Fear kept me motivated. And love. Nothing was going to
take my child from me, once I got used to the idea I was going to become a
mother." A tear rolled down my cheek followed by another and then another.
Parker watched me for a moment before placing his wine glass on a side
table. He pulled me into the crook of his arm and held me.
"Now what are you feeling? You can tell me."
I continued to cry quietly, not sure how to begin. "I've started to
realize how selfish I've been. Seven, eight years is such a long time to
do this alone. I didn't have to. And the worst part of it is I deprived
someone of the feeling of being a father." At this point I couldn't
continue. Those thoughts had been plaguing me these last few weeks,
especially when I watched Parker and my son interact. How different things
could have been if only I had taken the initiative and found his daddy
early on. "Scotty is thriving under the attention you've been giving
him..."
"Torie, come on, you've done a wonderful job with him. Don't kick
yourself about the decisions you've made."
"What about Blake? What if he had known? Would he have been so
reckless? He might be fishing with Scotty. I can't help but wonder if I
could have indirectly prevented that accident."
"How?"
"By facing this a long time ago. People change when they become
parents. If Blake is the father, if he would have known he was the father,
he might not have taken the chances he did with his life."
Parker grew silent. "What about Lance?"
I huffed sarcastically. "I honestly don't know about Lance. Maybe he
would be a better person. I can't help but think he married that woman to
be closer to her trust fund. But then that sounds like sour grapes. I
really don't know what happened to Lance."
"He's always been a little self-centered." Parker kept rubbing his hand
up and down my arm. I leaned in closer to his chest, laying my head down
on the warm expanse of him. "Lance knew what he was doing when he became
involved with Christy."
My hair drifted across my face. Parker had pulled the elastic band
holding my hair up in a pony tail. Now it hung wild and messy around my
head. "What about you?" I asked.
"We would have been married, raising Scotty together. No question in my
mind." Parker said, matter-of- factly.
A fresh crop of tears streamed down my face. Parker lifted my chin and
stared into my eyes. He wiped at the tears with his other hand, stopping
to kiss me softly on the lips. I felt a current surge through me, at the
moment his lips had touched mine.
He leaned in to kiss me again, this time with more urgency. I kissed
him back, so wantonly, our tongues mingling and fighting each other. I
felt the familiar pull deep down between my legs. I wanted this man. He
pulled me in closer, dipping me farther back against the swing until he was
nearly on top of me. My hands explored his shoulders, neck and the nape of
his hair, a spot I found to be so sexy. I dug my fingers into his scalp,
scratching lightly as we kissed. I felt him nudge against me, his erection
apparent.
* * * Continued to Part 9 * * *
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's
Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP)
system due to inadequate formatting.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
<1st attachment end>
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
Notice: This post has been modified from its original
format. The post was sent as an email attachment and
has been converted by ASSTR ASSM moderation software.
----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+