Gemma heard his footfalls outside the child’s room and looked up from feeding her boy, the blue and white breast-feeding top open at the neck line and exposing her heavy breasts and deep cleavage. Jonno suckled greedily upon her, his mouth wrapped around her nipple and a small hand raised to touch her skin then fall away again.
There was an intensity in Stan’s gaze upon her, and the child, that she understood; made her feel weak and often lost in finding the right words to tell him what it meant for her to be doing this before him.
‘That looks so beautiful,’ he said, his voice low and surprisingly tender. The gruff man, with his softly lined face and greying hair, whose bulk dwarfed her, had a softer side to his character.
Gemma felt Stan’s touch to her face as she bent to look lovingly at the child. She shivered as Stan’s fingertips brushed over her skin before they caressed the child’s cheek.
‘Only I know that you are Jonno’s father,’ she smiled over trembling lips. ‘I see your love for him too…not so much in Frank’s. He shares so little in all that I have to do for him…’
‘And he needs a good clip around his ears…’ Stan growled on hearing how his son behaved towards them.
He gloried in the sight of the young woman, the riot of her long sandy blonde hair he was used to seeing now tied back in a plaited pony-tail. Gemma slowly stood up and put Jonno over her shoulder and rubbed the child’s back to burp him. The breast that the child had suckled on hung free, open to Stan’s gaze. Motherhood leant her a singular beauty to his appraising eyes.
‘No, don’t do or say anything, please? It’s enough for me that you come to visit us, Isabelle too…’ she whispered, looking anxiously towards the nursery’s door. ‘I thought she’d stay…that we could talk while he slept?’
Stan stood behind her and she felt his hand con her shoulder.
‘She said that there was some shopping to do…would call back later. She doesn’t know that I’ve finished the small repair job Frank asked me to do for him. The lights in the kitchen work again…on the two-way switch…we’ve time to ourselves.’
The words of explanation came in a rush.
Gemma straightened as the child lay in its cot, already asleep. She had pushed her breast back under the thin cotton fabric of her top and the cup of her nursing bra. She did not keep Stan from embracing her. She clenched his hands; kept them to her body.
‘I thought these feelings would end,’ she sighed; turning her head to meet his kiss…then another. She felt the strength in his arms; the press of his penis through the front of Stan’s jeans. ‘They’ve…they’ve only gotten stronger!’
She tore free and rushed out onto the landing; felt him restrain her and put both his hands to her breasts; then one press into the fabric of her swaying skirt, between her legs; cupped her mound.
‘Stan…Stan…this is crazy!’ She shivered; felt the rush of aberrant longing for him. She’d slept with both men; knew, however, who the father of her longed-for child was.
‘Help me with them…the crazy feelings…let me love with you again?’ he asked, his breaths on her throat as she lifted her head to meet these claims upon her. She shivered; felt the gush of expectancy wet her skin; pushed her hips forward to meet these claims upon her.
‘Here…out here on the landing?’ she gasped in dismay, as she felt his hands pull on her skirt then brush over the warm skin of her thighs until his fingers found her.
‘Yes…there’s no time or place for any ting else!’
His fingers had drawn aside her knicks and she felt his touches brush the spiral of hair on her crack, then slowly enter in seducing claims.
‘You’re wild…so passionate…so eager!’
Her hands clamped on his jeans; felt him unzip them and fumble; move to ease that pole of hard flesh out and have her touch it.
Stan’s hands gripped her shoulders, and she was made to turn; Gemma felt her feet being pushed apart in small sideways steps; there then followed the thrill of his caressing touches to her thighs as he lifted the skirt up to her waist; there was the urgent tugging aside of her knicks as he opened the way to her soft and moist flesh.
His fingers stroked and probed her expertly; there was no fumbling; Gemma trembled as he pulled on coarse hair; she was made to lean forward; she sensed a moment’s hesitation before she felt the tingle of Stan thrusting into her…purposely slow and deep.
‘Wow! Wow!’ he yelled. ‘Stop that!’
Her nails stroked and pressed his belly as Stan bumped her.
‘No!’ she yelled in reply even as she felt the first shudder of a climax course through her body. Impossible…and so soon!
His movements went deeper and for longer, until his thrusts and sway of hips became so purposeful, rhythmic and so pleasurably questing that she gripped and kept him in her, all restraint forsaken.
She quivered out of longing and continuing fear of all that they had embarked upon.
‘Crazy! This is crazy…so utterly crazy!’ she yelped, meeting his taking of her as if in a dance.
She felt the rise of another approaching climax and conceded to all that he sought of her. Stan continued in his possession of her as if she could take all that he had to give and encouraged in him.
What a frenzy; what control he had! How could he have kept all of this from her for so long? She had often met his stilled looks upon her when they were in company; knew what was again at work in him. When Frank sought her, she thought of two men making love to her; the images of them merging.
She was obliged to lean over, her legs spread and a lustful man standing between them; it was a gross posture of submission to his hunger for an impulse fuck, but she no longer cared. He bumped against her; she pushed back; the rhythm of their claims,, upon each other’s flesh unrelenting.
Had time stood still? For how many minutes had this been happening?
Stan would soon succeed in bringing her to another shattering orgasm.
‘Gemma!’ He cried out. ‘We can do this…and we can do it together!’
‘Stan!’ she couldn’t keep from screaming out now in reply. ‘This is crazy…crazy…crazy loving! Stan! Stop…stop, please! That’s enough…enough now!”
Her cries seemed only to excite him more; she saw that hooded and faraway gaze in his eyes as she looked behind her. She reached back to touch his belly, to tug again on downy hair.
Stan held her; kept her from pulling away; he pounded furiously in this wild act of possession and discovery within her, until…until she heard loud gasps of delayed and approaching rapture.
‘This…it’s so…so…special!’ he groaned, pressing his lips against her throat to stifle his louder cries of fulfilment that soon echoed hers.
‘Finish it…finish it with me!’
Gemma sought to push on his hips; quivering as she did so; on feeling the leap of Stan’s flesh and the clamp of his hands to her belly to keep her to him; there came the first spurt, then Stan’s clammy liquid warmth on the skin of her thighs. Once…twice…even a third time.
Oh, how he had found her!
Trembling, she clamped her legs on him for a last lingering touch. Stan continued, but now in languid movements against her, his hands on her belly and then on her clammy warmth. His fingers brushed up and spread to her hips in a slow rhythm of ebbing pleasure. He kept from claiming her breasts; knew that to squeeze on them would provoke her milk to flow.
‘Stop…stop…stop now, Stan, please?’ she couldn’t help but moan. How could he have kept away from her when she had smiled in acknowledgement of his looks upon her; what lay behind those eyes?
His taking of her had felt wildly unreal and sublimely pleasurable. His longing for her soon faded away and she shivered on feeling him withdraw from her body.
She clamped on his hands as he embraced her, after she had clothed herself once more.
‘Forgive me, lass…’
Gemma heard the contrition in his voice.
‘I…I wanted you too, but we can’t go on like this…you darling man. What you’ve done for me ties me to you…’
He embraced her trembling body like any man, a proven lover, would do in the afterglow and heat of the moment. She half turned in his embrace and stared up at him; she then met a deep open-mouthed kiss that she simply had to tear her mouth away from.
It had begun to feel only too real; a sense of languor overwhelmed her.
It had been so wanton; so utterly crazy and wanton. It had been an impulse fuck that shamed her; that had pleased her beyond imagining for its frightening intensity; for its spontaneity and the lustful purpose of a man she had been drawn to; a man whose seed had helped to make her child; the idea first dripped into her mind by Frank. It had gone way beyond Stan being a donor. He’d taken to pegging her, and she had found herself emotionally bound to him, in ways that went way beyond the boundaries of a woman and father-in-law’s relationship.
How was she to live with the memory of what they had done?
‘Gemma… oh, Gemma,’ Stan breathed in gratitude. ‘You’ve…you’ve made me feel so good.’
His hands caressed her; she continued to feel a palpable sense of longing and clenched her fingers with his; pressed Stan’s strong hands to her tender breasts. He took one of her hands and guided it to his still firm flesh.
‘We don’t do this again, Stan,’ she now whispered in abject dismay for having to even say it. ‘We can’t…we just can’t. I’ll have nowhere to go with my thoughts of you and what we have done…again, just now.’
They heard the insistent buzzing of the doorbell. It was followed by the soft wail of Jonno, the sound waking him. Isabelle’s dismay that Jonno had been conceived, against the odds, informed her in their dealings with each other.
‘I love you, girl…in my own ways.’
‘I know…I felt that again for you, just now.’ She rose to kiss him; felt the slow nod of his head as they did so before easing out of their embrace. ‘It’s our secret…and the hunger lives on.’
She ran into Jonno’s room; Stan thumped down the stairs to answer the door.
It would be okay…
♥