"Yeah, that's right, Jake baby - Jake knows exactly what to do, look at you, won't be long now, you're gonna come all over my dick, I can feel you contracting around me, sucking me, that's right, suck my dick with that tight pussy - come on..."
"Jake!" Vivian saw a wash of white rush over her vision as her lower body began quivering, tensing, stiffening and gripping at his thick length, "JAKE! Oh SHIT - I AM COMING SO HARD OH GOD - JAKE JAKE JAKE - OHHHH GOD!" She screamed over and over, head rolling around on the table, she knocked the dried flowers and candles off, unable to control the spasms that seemed to go on and on, they wouldn't stop, because he was touching her, moving inside her. He made sure she completely finished her climax before he grabbed hold of the back of her knees, pushing them forward and then began pumping faster in a drilling motion. Pulling out to almost halfway before pushing back going deeper and deeper until he had her taking every bit.
"OH! JAKE! Please!" She grabbed the edge of the table over her head, holding on tight, determined to take him, grunting with each of his thrusts, he had her spread as wide as he could get her, going so deep his balls banged against her plump bottom. "HERE! OHHH YEAH - THERE BABY - IT'S - COMING - NOW!" He gnashed his teeth, shaking his head as his life force jet streamed from his body, rapidly shooting deep into her over and over, filling her so, a portion was squeezed from the sides, until he stood dazed from the pleasure, moving with slight pumps, while his heart hammered, still holding onto the back of her knees.
Vivian lay panting, blowing, so glad that it was over, she sucked in when he backed out of her, bringing her legs back down, pulling her dress over her once more as he stood away from her, blowing, smiling, "Oh that was good, we buying that fuckin' table off Shanna."
Vivian pushed herself up, still sitting on it, then hopped down onto her feet and almost hit the floor. Her legs were like rubber. Jake grabbed her to him, holding her, looking into her dazed eyes. "I love you Vivian, I swear to God, I love you. You all right?" He asked, kissing her brow.
Vivian nodded, "I ah, gotta go to the bathroom, your stuff, is running down my leg." She informed him.
"Shit! You should have been laying down, what a fuckin' waste! Go, get in the bed now - so it doesn't all run out."
"Jake, don't be crazy!" She shook her head, pushing away from him, making her way to the bathroom.
"Do you listen!? Do you listen ever? Don't wash it away man! Go lay down like I told you!" He yelled, now wishing he'd gotten her in bed. Grumbling, he picked up the towel, wrapping it around himself, "Shit, what a waste! Half a million good swimmers, down her leg, fuckin' women don't listen!" He heard the bathroom door close, "Just wipe up, but no douching - or whatever the hell that's called!" He bellowed.
"I knooow!"
"Yeah right, all that hard work, down the toilet! Thanks! Oh well, if at first you don't succeed..."
Chapter 276
Tuesday morning, Madison University Hospital...
His mother, father and Shanna departed that morning, with the rest of his family, nephews included, Paul and Kevin, assisted in taking his kids home with them. Everyone was gone now except for Derrick Jr. and Meribel's family. Her brother had been arrested and would face court, a long trial and a prison sentence.
That haunted Derrick.
He had a dead son or daughter; that haunted Derrick even more.
Regardless of the promise he made to his wife, that fact was eating him alive. He kept slipping away from everyone else to cry alone. She didn't even know it yet; that one of their precious children had died - because of him. The agony of it was making him ill. He loved his children. All of his children. It didn't matter what things they did, they belonged to him. He kept thinking, what if this one was another little girl, what would she have looked like? More like Meribel? More like me? A blend of us? And if so, how would she have been? Or another son, what would he have looked like? Been like? He would never know, because boy or girl, it was dead.
In one of the hospital toilets, he sat, not using it, rocking back and forth with the heals of his palms dug into his eyes. Trying to drive the pain away, trying to get it out of his head that he'd lost one of his children. It didn't matter that they hadn't known. That it had been small, undetected. So had his other's been once upon a time. They were flesh and blood, human and real, and so had that one been, and because he didn't take his wife's words seriously, that child was gone and could not be brought back. If that weren't enough, she would never have another of his children again.
A knock sounded at the door, "Dad? You all right in there?" Dj asked standing outside the door. He'd been watching his father, trying to stay close to him. He was hurting, and hurting bad, he could see it in his eyes, so tortured he was afraid of leaving, of going back to football camp. He knew that his mother would pull through, the entire family was over the roof with joy when she woke the night before to find that she would be able to walk once more. Not wasting a moments time, his dad demanded that no one, no one mention the baby, or the hysterectomy. All had agreed, leaving it for him to deal with. Still and yet, Derrick jr. didn't think his father was coping with it - so much so, that it frightened him to leave his dad, and not his mother.
"Dad?" He knocked again, he swore that he heard his father suck in from sobbing, as if he was trying to quiet it, control it, suck it back.
"Yeah." He answered sharply.
"You okay in there?"
"Yeah."
"You sure dad? Come on, don't hide man - I'm here for you, I'm here." He heard him sob out again. "Dad come on, let me in, please ... let me in."
"Go! Go see about - your mother." He heard him choke out.
"She's okay dad, I need to see about you, you're not okay. I know you're not - don't do this to yourself, come on, this was not your fault, this was not your fault."
Derrick jr. waited by the door, refusing to budge from it. He didn't care if he stood there all day. His father was his hero. This white male who gave him his name, and loved him as if he'd been his sire. Not one time, not one day, not one event ever in his life, had his father ever treated him as if he didn't belong to him, not once. As far back as he could remember, he carried him around on his strong arm, or on his shoulders, proud as he could be, introducing him to anyone who asked, as his son, his first born. He remembered when he found out that Derrick wasn't his biological father. He'd been 10 years old, they'd gone to Chicago to visit his mother's family, and while out shopping, his mother ran into a school mate, who saw him and said the moment she laid eyes on him, "Oh my goodness, he looks just like Armundo! Young man you are just like your father!" And then to his stunned mother who had been taken off guard by it, "Has Armundo seen him yet? Does he know about him?" The sudden appearance of the school mate and her blurting out what she knew, so shocked his mother that she hadn't been able to speak. She'd only looked down at him, turned her back on the old friend, ignoring her completely and lead him from the store. They had both been quiet at the time. He remembered trying to figure out what had just happened, what had the woman meant? And who was this Armundo that she said he looked just like? She had called the man, Armundo, his father. Because he could not dismiss it from his mind, he began asking questions, and his mother had no choice but to tell him the truth. He'd spent two or more years being an absolute brat towards Derrick, as if he had some how betrayed him by not being his father. Angry at him and hurt because someone else was his father. He took it out on him, he took it out on his mother and every now and then, he'd taken it out on Marcus and Luis. Yet, his father had not lost patience with him, he rode out the storm and patiently dealt with him one day at a time; when his mother had grown impatient with him many times, wishing to blister his end. It took a while but he gradually got over it, he gradually accepted the fact that Derrick wasn't his real father, which was the biggest hurdle of all - it was the one thing that had hurt him the most. Some how, his father seemed to see through his spell of rebellion right to the heart of the matter, and instead of pushing him away, he b
rought him closer, hugged him longer, and loved him in a way that made him into the gentle young male he was now.
"Dad, do I have to sit on the floor outside this door? I will. I won't leave it, I won't leave you. You dad, are the best friend I've ever had, and to think, my very best friend, is my father, I mean, how many can say that dad? I can, I say it all the time. And now, my best friend, needs me. If I have to postpone my career dad, I will - I'll put it off-..."
The door came open.
Derrick Jr. stood, staring into his father's tortured eyes, seeing him that way, "I'm gonna call dad and tell them I can't-..."
Derrick sr. sniffed, wiped his hand over his face, "No you're not. I'll be fine, really I will. You have a career-..."
"I have a family to see about, you! You, come before all of that! You think I'd put playing football before you? I can get a job, or - you always wanted to start-..."
Derrick cut his son off once again shaking his head, taking him by the shoulder, bringing him against his body for a hug, still shaking his head, hugging him. His intent was for just a hug, a simple squeeze to say that he didn't have to, that he would be okay, but once he had him in his arms, he couldn't let go.
"It's okay dad, you don't have to hold it back you know. Wanna go for a ride?"
Derrick held on, but shook his head once more, daring not to speak, the lump in his throat, the tears in his eyes, the burning in his chest, the pain in his heart, the nausea in his stomach - all of it, he had to keep it in. Or else he'd start wailing out of control and he didn't think he would be able to stop. He pushed away from his son, sniffing hard, wiping the sweat from his face, the heat in his body was overwhelming him.
"Dad, come on, you at least need some fresh air, grandma is with mom. Come on, just for a moment." Derrick Jr. coaxed his father, taking him by the arm to lead him out on the sun deck. There was a cool breeze blowing because it had been raining. Derrick sr. leaned on the rail, breathing in deep, the damp cool air helped to refresh him as it washed over his heated body. They stood outside, side by side, the same stance, looking out over the green grounds, quiet, just taking it all in.
"Why didn't I listen? Why didn't I hear her?"
"Dad, you cannot, keep asking yourself that. You can't man! It's one of those questions that you'll never find a satisfactory answer for, and it will haunt you, and follow you, and bring you down, hold you down. That lady was crazy! How were you to know-..."
"Your mother - told me! She - she pleaded with me! She tried to leave me - and I - made her stay! You know why she wanted to leave me? Because - she - didn't feel safe with me, my wife - was - was afraid-..."
"Dad stop it-..."
"...- afraid for her life! Afraid - I wouldn't -..."
"DAD - listen to me..."
"... protect her! She - she was right! She could have died! I let that - woman -..."
"DAD LISTEN TO ME!!"
"My wife almost died! I let her - almost kill - my wife!"
DJ stood with his hands on his head, deciding he was not going back to football camp, no way.
Derrick sr. worked to swallow back the moisture in his mouth, the sensation to shout over and over and over and over again, wasn't passing. It was there, lodged large, hard, heavy in his chest and he couldn't breathe around it. It was hurting so bad, all he could do was rub it.
DJ wondered how his decision would effect his contract? Could they sue him? He'd accepted a large draft check, spending 30% of it already.
Derrick turned to look at him, "I want you - to head on back now, you hear me, I'll be fine."
"I don't think you will dad, not until you let it go."
"Look son-..."
"Mr. McPherson, there you are." Meribel's surgeon had been looking for him, and approached to speak with him. Seeing the stressed tension on his face, the strain of all that was happening, taking it's toll on him, he hated to have to have this discussion with him, but it could not be put off any longer. "Can we, have a seat over here, there are some things we to need to settle about your wife, please, sit down."
Derrick wasn't sure he could stand to hear anymore, deal with anymore, but he sat, DJ sitting to the side as well.
"First of all, under the circumstances, your wife is recovering very well. In fact, today, we can move her from ICU into a regular room, so that's good news. However, because of her injuries, mainly speaking, her partial hysterectomy, there is hormone replacement medication she will eventually need to get on. Due to no longer having a uterus, her body cannot produce three important hormones she must have, progesterone, testosterone and estrogen. All three are vital to her well-being. Without it, she'll experience anxiety, depression, mood swings, dizziness, nervousness, fatigue, hair loss, headaches, heart palpitations, insomnia, weight gain and uh, painful intercourse. There's also risk of various cancers." He stopped, letting all of that sink.
Derrick sat, so it seemed, unable to move, staring off in space, as if he hadn't heard a word that he said. But he heard, loud and clear, at that moment, his own heart was in the midst of palpitations, his ears ringing.
"Mr McPherson, I know - that - you didn't wish to tell your wife, about the hysterectomy, the loss of your child. I wish - I could grant that code of silence, but - I cannot. She needs to know. She needs therapy. She will need counseling because a forced and unexpected hysterectomy is very traumatic to a woman. In order for her to get through this, she must be made aware of what's going to be happening to her body - so that uh - she can cope. So - I can tell her, or - you can tell her - but - either way - she must be told and soon. I'll leave you with that, for now - let's get her moved and then, we'll deal with the rest later." The doctor finished, gazing at Derrick, who sat unmoving, the surgeon wasn't even sure if he blinked the entire time her spoke.
He looked from Derrick to Dj, "I guess I'll leave him with you." Unsure of what else to say, or do - he stood and strode back into the hospital corridor on to his next patient.
Dj swallowed, gulped actually, unable to speak, afraid to. His father still hadn't moved, he didn't know what to do, what to say to him. Dj knew his mother, knew how much she loved him, he remembered hearing her say to him once when they didn't know he could hear them, "You know, if you don't let me take contraceptives, I could have a baby every year, they'll be crawling across the floor, we'll have to tip toe not to step on them."
And his father had answered, "In that case, we'll stop wearing shoes in the house."
His mother had laughed, "I get the feeling, you really wouldn't care, if I had one every year, would you?"
"If you could, would you?" He asked her, they were teasing each other.
"Your babies? Oh Derrick, if I could, I would never stop - but I will have to, so, let us agree, if we hit say, twelve, we'll stop? Agreed?"
"Agreed, twelve is a good number."
They hadn't hit twelve, not even close. Sighing, unable to speak past the lump in his throat, Dj reached out, gently took his father's hand, and held it, because that's all he could think to do.
* * *
Camp Daniels - late morning...
They'd arrived back home late last night, everyone exhausted. Once more, Angela's guards insisted she ride with them in the Hummer, along with Crystal and the boys. Shawn had been too tired himself to make a fuss over it. They hadn't a clue of where Mundo was, and Ben had left the night before. Following jet lag, and the emotional wrenching around Derrick and Meribel, everyone was sleeping in late, except for Crystal. She was up with her boys, had fed them and now they were in the basement with her, quietly watching television, this after asking her ten or more times, "Where Ben at?" For her to tell them that he had something to do, and after a few more questions, they settled down enjoying the children's program on TV.
With them distracted by that, she was able to sit her new laptop on the coffee table, opening it up, powering it up. Despite what she told the boys, she too wondered where was Ben? He hadn't said a word to her, just left Sunday night without so much as a wave goodb
ye, right or wrong, she resented that he hadn't looked for her to tell her he was leaving.
Laptop on, she searched her emails, smiled to see, there was two waiting for her from him.
From: B.C. McPherson
Date: 06/27/2004 20:23
To: Crystal Bella
Subject: I suppose it's over now?
You're at the hospital now, I almost said goodbye to you there, but you were speaking with my aunt Shanna at the time, and I thought, just go. So I did. Even so, I stopped to send you this email, just to let you know - everyday that we spent together on this holiday was special to me. I'll never forget it. Where's your ring? Have you come across it yet? I bet you haven't. You'll find it in the disk storage pocket of your laptop bag, because it's new, I thought, she'll keep that with her. Look now if it's beside you.
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