by Jaye Peaches
He loomed above me, his hands resting on either side of my head, his features barely discernible in the dim light. There was no mistaking his broad, smooth chest. The taut musculature I had come to love hadn’t lost its rigidity with years. A man in his mid-thirties, there was nothing in his physique to give away his age. Although he worked out daily, his muscles kept their customary leanness. I stared at his pectorals then below at his abdominal muscles, all held in place by his superlative, unblemished skin.
His face, cast in shadows, couldn’t hide his two most recognisable features: sharp, cornflower-blue eyes and yellow hair. Spiked up by a modicum of sweat, his hair maintained excellent coverage and thickness. Nervously, I reached a hand up and touched his short strands, ran my fingers from temple to crown, letting the softness curl about my digits. I sighed with delight.
A wry smile appeared on his face—I could see the corners of his lips curve upwards. Below, he treated my pussy to a nudge of his cock. The tip pressed against the slit, delving between the folds. I grabbed at his hair as he swung into me.
“Yes, yes!” I garbled.
Jason withdrew then battered me again, forcing his cock deep inside. I raised my legs, knees towards my shoulders, and both of my hands clung to his back. Flesh slapped against flesh as he collided with my spread thighs then another and another. Guttural sounds escaped both our mouths.
It took only one hand from him. A grasping hand, which shifted and pinned me down by my hair. I erupted in a sea of trembling muscles as he embraced me. His other hand reached upwards, finding the edge of the mattress, and he clung to it while levering his shaft deeper in my throbbing pussy.
How I loved to be taken roughly. The nightmare of my false whipping forgotten, he overruled my turbulent emotions and made them his own. After all that had happened during the week, my pining for him and my regrets at my behaviour, he could have chosen to make love to me, to cover me with kisses, sway in and out with gentle movements. Nothing would supplant him in my imagination, and he took control, just as I expected.
“Gem, now,” he rasped, and we exploded in a conjoined orgasm.
I wanted my tits squeezed, my bottom spanked every now and again. I wanted little bite marks left on me, a sore pussy to wake up to the next morning, and his dirty words in my ears, calling me unspeakable names. In my state of willingness and lust, he gave me all this, and I achieved three orgasms. When I fell asleep, there were no more nightmares.
The next day, before we flew home in the evening, the three of us had a wonderful day out as a family. I doted on my husband and son, making sure they had everything they needed, and I gave myself to Jason on the flight back home. Spread wide in the private cabin, I let him do anything he wished with me as the jet engine hummed in the background and Joshua slept in his chair.
Chapter 12. His Sister
Such was the noise blasting out of my iPod speakers in the breakfast room, I nearly missed the trill of the front doorbell. I was boogying away while sorting out a pile of ironing. I didn’t do the ironing, that job fell to Brooks, but I preferred to sort the laundry before handing it over to him. I scrambled to the front door.
“Louise! What a pleasant surprise.” Dressed in a trouser suit, her shiny blonde hair lapping about her face, stood my sister-in-law.
“Hi, Gemma.” She peered over my shoulder into the recesses of the hallway.
“Oh, no Jason. Sorry.”
Her shoulders slumped. The absence of her brother deflated the welcoming smile on her face, and I spied grey shadows under her eyes and a blotchy redness dotted about otherwise pale cheeks. She followed me into the house. “Drat.”
“We’ve just got back from New York, and he zipped off to Frankfurt. Come in.”
“I’d hoped to catch him between trips.” She accepted my offer of tea and turned down food.
“I’m doing a course—a seminar on customer service and social media. Big boom area.” She fingered the mug of tea, and her red nail varnish shone under the halogen lights. Always well dressed, even when off duty from her job as a hotel manager, she had Jason’s colouring but was surprisingly small in stature. She asked about Joshua, but the moment I chatted away about his latest achievements, her eyes glazed over.
I sighed, anticipating another sibling crisis for Jason to sort out. “How’s Ben?” I asked after her partner.
“Busy.” She shrugged. “I was hoping to talk to Jason.”
“No problems with work?” I finished puttering in the kitchen and came to sit opposite her at the breakfast bar.
“What? No, no.” She inhaled through her nose and squared her shoulders. “I’m pregnant.”
I choked on my coffee, wiping the back of my hand across my lips to remove the spluttering droplets. “Lou, congratulations.” I leaned forward to give her a hug, but she remained rigid in her seat and unwelcoming. I sat back. “You don’t look happy. I thought you wanted kids?”
“I do. We do. Well, I definitely do,” she stuttered. “It wasn’t planned. The condom split. It isn’t a planned pregnancy.”
An awkward pause descended. What did I say?
Louise sipped her tea, wetting her lips. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m pleased. I want children. I have to adjust to it happening earlier than planned.”
“How many weeks?”
“Seven. I thought I was really late and then I went into denial. Shit, it’s not ideal timing but...I wanted to tell Jason in person. I haven’t told Mum and Dad.”
I didn’t ask why she wanted to tell Jason before her parents. Something else was going on behind her troubled face, and she wasn’t going to open up to me.
“Look. I’m due a call from Jason. We chat by webcam. I’ll text him, let him know you want to talk. You’ll see him, just not in the flesh.”
“Thanks, Gemma.” She swallowed a mouthful of tea, her eyes brightening.
I texted Jason, and we arranged the connection. By the time I had brought down the laptop and set it up, he was there on the screen. He sat at a desk in his usual hotel suite. No tie or jacket, he looked a little tired, although he smiled in greeting.
“Louise, hi.”
“Jason. I...I’m pregnant,” she blurted.
His eyes widened and lips twitched before he managed to rustle up a few words of congratulations.
“It wasn’t planned. Condom split on us,” rushed Louise.
“Happens, Louise,” he said, frowning. “How’s Ben taking the news?”
Louise covered her mouth with a trembling hand, and her face crumpled. “He wants me to have an abortion, terminate it.”
Jason face went from bemused to expressionless. I gasped. How could Ben be so callous? I’d thought he was a decent bloke, the affable type who brightened up a conversation with a few jokes. Ben was talented with his hands and made a living repairing stringed musical instruments while perfecting his own violin-making skills. Dreams of becoming the next Stradivarius occupied his ambitions, and he’d an encyclopaedic knowledge of violin makers and techniques.
“He’s asked you or told you?” asked Jason. He wasn’t attempting to hide his displeasure in his tone.
“Neither. He said he wasn’t ready. We need more time, money, space. Lots of reasons why we shouldn’t have a kid. So I yelled at him that he wanted me to get rid of it and he said, why not, you should, or something like that. That happened on Sunday. We haven’t spoken to each other since then.” She buried her head in her hands.
“You said he wanted kids.”
“Men say that, don’t they, to keep women happy,” she said bitterly.
“I take it you don’t want a termination,” soothed Jason.
“No. Of course not. The idea is abhorrent. But, he won’t talk about it now. I’m starting to puke up, and he won’t discuss anything with me.” Her shoulders shook, and tears began to flow down her red cheeks.
I put my arm around her, and she let out a sob. “Perhaps he needs time,” I said. “It’s unexpected, a big shock. Just give him time, and he
’ll come round.”
“I don’t know. He can be stubborn. I’ve been in London for two days, and he hasn’t even rung to ask me how I am.”
“Have you called him?” asked Jason.
“No. I don’t know what to say. I’m going home tomorrow. I’ve got to face him sometime.” She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
“Don’t worry. He may have calmed down and you can have a rational conversation. Does he have much contact with children?”
“No, I suppose not. No nieces or nephews or friends with kids.” She pursed her lips. “Ben and his father are estranged, and his mother lives in Australia. I suppose he hasn’t been much of a son, never mind a parent.”
Jason smiled. “Not much of a role model for him, then. Let him get use to the idea, Louise. Once I’m home, we’ll come and visit you. Seeing Joshua might remind him he does want kids, and what is growing inside you is part of him.”
Louise nodded. “Thanks, Jason. Sorry to burden you with my—”
“Don’t. We’ve been down this road before. You’re not to hide your problems from me. I’m here for you, Lou.”
The conversation finished shortly after when Jason’s mobile rang. I closed the laptop lid.
Back in the kitchen, collecting up the empty mugs, I asked her a question. “Why did you want to talk to Jason and not your parents?”
“I’ve always run to Jason. My big brother.” Louise gave a whimsical shrug, as if to apologise. “I can talk to him easily. As kids, when he was at Oxford studying, I would ring him every week with my news. He’d listened. His advice was always useful. Then, well, after Michael spilled the beans on him being a....”
I waited but she didn’t say the word. “A Dominant.” I filled in the blank. “Couldn’t you speak to him any longer?”
“Sounds terrible, but I thought he’d become a different person. He was a grown man, not a student, his business taking off like a rocket into space, and his personal life all cloak and dagger stuff. It felt as if he was tutoring me to be....” Again, she faltered mid-sentence.
“Submissive? I don’t think so. I think you’d altered your perception of him, but he hadn’t changed. He knew the family treated him differently. He kept his mouth shut because it was the easiest option for dealing with the issue. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”
“I know. I stopped ringing him. For years, we had this good communication going, and then it ended. I managed, I thought, until that awful business with my creepy ex-boss, Brewer. Jason came back into my life, took care of me.”
“What about your other big brother, Anthony?”
“Ant listens, he’s there for me, but, to be honest, his opinions aren’t always the best. He flies off the handle. If I told him what I told you and Jason, he would tell me to leave Ben, and that would be it. He’s more of knee-jerk man. He and Jason don’t see eye to eye on most things.”
Louise’s insight had piqued my curiosity once again about Jason’s childhood. She’d given me an opening, and I grabbed it. I tried to keep the excitement out of my voice. “Gillian said Jason bullied Anthony when they were kids.”
“Yes. But Ant deserved it sometimes.” I gripped the edge of my seat. This was news. I’d always held the view Louise adored Anthony as much as Jason. I shuffled forward on my seat. “Why?”
She paused, twisting her lips about she considered my question. “He nicked things from Jason’s bedroom without asking. Ant wasn’t a saint. He wound Jason up no end. Jason can be a tad possessive. They were as bad as each other. Jason lost his temper and started bullying. Of course, when Ant’s company went tits up, Jason did a good job of rescuing it. Ant pissed off Jason again by not showing gratitude.”
Had it bothered her, too? “You get on with Anthony though?”
“Yes. I’m not one for taking sides. In any case, they’re both fine with me on their own, same with Michael. Jason and Ant are like chalk and cheese. Michael and I could do no wrong in their eyes; we were the cute younger siblings. He teased me a bit, Jason, that is, but he was never nasty or unkind.”
The complex dynamics of four sibling manifested itself in the constant changes of allegiance. I had one sibling, and my relationship with my brother had survived childhood intact with no bad feelings. Jason could be curt with his words and gave fools short shrift, but I couldn’t imagine him being unkind to his sister.
“Jason isn’t an easy man, but then I suspect he wouldn’t be successful if he didn’t have a hard shell.” I’d no idea if I’d said the right things to Louise. The pensive expression she’d arrived with had returned.
“I miss Jason’s advice, Gemma. When I found out I was pregnant, and Ben didn’t give me a kiss....” She broke down in tears. I moved around and embraced her, letting her pour it all out.
“Ben’s scared,” I declared, trying to console her anxieties. I passed her a box of tissues, and she wiped away the tears, sniffing.
“I know. You’re right.” She looked at her watch. “I should go. I have an early start tomorrow.” Dabbing at her eyes, she rallied and stood up. “I’m fine. Honestly. I’ll ring him.”
After a farewell hug, I rang security and summoned a chauffeur-driven car. She gushed with gratitude not to have to hunt down a taxi.
I sent a text to Jason and, shortly afterwards, the landline rang.
“Is she okay?” Jason asked.
“Not really, but she’s going to ring him.”
“Good. They need to talk.”
“He’s shocked. I mean, the idea of being a father must have taken him by surprise. Don’t you think? It’s a natural reaction to the news.”
The end of the line fell quiet for a few seconds.
I pushed for a response. “I was worried about being a mother, whether I had it in me. Yes, there’s excitement, but you must have had those moments when you wondered, didn’t you?”
“Not really. It was what I planned.”
Another one of Jason’s overtly simplistic statements. It riled me as it made Joshua sound like a tick box on one of his grand schemes. The word made me feel like his incubator and uninvolved in the decision to have a child. We had discussed my coming off the pill—a lengthy chat about timings and the state of my career. Back then, I had no plans to further my artistic ambitions, and we’d assumed I’d continue my job as an asset analyst. In the end, my desire to be a full-fledged artist took wings, and I abandoned my old career.
My annoyance crept unhindered into the tone of my voice. “Planned? You make Joshua sound like a requirement.”
“Meaning?”
“A son to inherit your business.”
“You’re implying I don’t love my son?”
“No!” I exclaimed. “I’m not being disrespectful. You have clear vision of what fatherhood means to you, including your legacy. I’m saying we both wanted children and planned my pregnancy. You don’t love Joshua? How could you think that!” My voice broke, overwhelmed by his brusque criticism. The trip to New York remained raw in my memory, and sometimes I seemed to be treading on egg shells around him.
“Sorry. Forget what I said. Of course, I was excited about having Joshua, and if I worry about anything it’s keeping him safe and protected from unwanted attention. Look, we’re both tired, and I’m upset about Louise and Ben’s lack of support. I believed he was a good choice for her. Now I have my doubts.”
“Can I help you, relax or something?” I reframed my thoughts around the mantle of a submissive wife.
He chuckled. “I’m sure you can. Fire up the webcam, get undressed, and show me your gorgeous naked body. I’ll think of something.” His command tantalised, and I hung up the phone before he could tell me to hurry up. Sometime later, I resembled plasticised gloop on the bedroom floor, having been permitted multiple orgasms with my favourite vibrator.
***
The following Saturday morning, Louise opened the front door of the cottage where she and Ben lived and waved us in. She wore tatty jeans and a plain T-shirt, her hair was d
ishevelled and her face unadorned by makeup. It was obvious she’d climbed straight out of bed and seemed sapped of energy, and, unlike her usual bright demeanour, her shoulders hung low as if an invisible rucksack of boulders burdened her back.
I’d chatted to her twice since she appeared on our doorstep. She and Ben had spoken little and although he hadn’t mentioned an abortion again, they hadn’t discussed the source of their discord: Louise’s pregnancy. The man had an ostrich head, and he’d buried it deep in the ground.
Jason carried Joshua in. The boy struggled against his father’s firm grip, while jabbering away and pointing at the floor, telling us in his baby speak he wanted, “down.” Jason relented. Joshua dashed across the threshold in search of mischief.
“Oh crap,” said Louise. “This house isn’t baby proof.”
She hastened into the living room, collected up empty glasses and mugs, and hauled them off to the kitchen. I relocated the remote controls out of Joshua’s reach, and Jason removed the Saturday paper, which Josh would have shredded to pieces quite happily if left to his own devices.
Ben and Louise had chosen the cottage not long after they settled together. It was situated in a village on the outskirts of Oxford. She commuted into the city to work in a large urban hotel while he ambled out the back door to a converted outbuilding that housed his workshop. The quaint cottage had two receptions rooms and three bedrooms. I envied the kitchen because it retained many of the original features, such as the baking oven by the red-brick fireplace and an Aga stove inside the hearth place. The interior of our houses had been modernised and stripped of quaint features.
They had been gradually renovating the cottage and Ben, with his capable hands, had wanted to do most of the work himself. Consequently, he took his time, juggling plastering walls and stringing violins. In the living room was another fireplace with a wood-burning stove. It was summertime and thankfully the fire wasn’t lit. There was nothing to protect Joshua’s hands from reaching out and touching the cast iron. Not a childproof setup.
