AUNT JUDE

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AUNT JUDEEver since I was sixteen I had known I was adopted, my adopting parents believing that it was better they told me so that, should I in later life learn of my adoption, I wouldn’t think they had deceived me. I was told that it was impossible for my adopting mother to get pregnant and so they had gone the way of adoption.I’ve heard it said that many c***dren, on being told they were adopted, become very distressed, but perhaps I have a more pragmatic view of things. Mum and dad had always been mum and dad as far as I was concerned and very loving parents. I had been given the best education available, and that had led to my being admitted to the medical school. If my father was a little disappointed that I didn’t follow his footsteps into the legal professional he never said so. Unlike many c***dren on being told they are adopted I had no burning desire to know who my birthmother was, and even less who my real father was, and in any case my parents didn’t know who she or he were. That information was apparently locked away in some bureaucratic file where I was content to let it remain.It might have remained a secret but for an unfortunate event. Three years after being told that I was adopted my father developed a serious bronchial ailment which, after treatment, got no better. He was advised to seek a warmer climate. This led to mum and dad deciding they would move north to Queensland. The only problem as they saw it was me. I was part way into my medical course and it was felt that it was not wise for me to move on at that stage. The upshot was I would go to live with Aunt Jude. I wasn’t too happy about parting from my parents, but living with Jude was fine. She was my mother’s youngest sister by about twelve years, and as my father said, “A free spirit.” She had never married and always seemed to have a lover in tow. This didn’t bother me, or mum and dad, since we took the view that how Jude lived her sex life was her business, not ours.And so I moved in with Jude, and much to my relief she took the same attitude to my sex life that I took to hers; if a wanted to have a girl stay the night with me that was okay. As for Jude, well, my father was right, she was a free spirit. Usually she had a lover stay overnight two or three times a week.* * * * * * * *It was about four weeks after I moved in with Jude when one evening we got around to talking casually about my adoption and how I felt about it. I told her it didn’t really bother me, but I sensed that Jude was edging towards something. My feeling was right because out of the blue she asked, “Have you ever felt you’d like to meet your birthmother?”I laughed and said that from what I’d heard the bureaucratic administrivia you had to go through to learn who your birthmother is and all the arrangements you had to make if you wanted to meet her, hardly made it worthwhile. Not expecting any startling answer I asked why she had asked the question. She hesitated and then said, “Perhaps I shouldn’t have asked it.”That answer made me curious and so I said, “But you did ask it, do you know something?””No…no, forget I said anything.””Hey, you can’t drop it like that,” I protested, “You do know something.”Jude sat silent and I said, “Look you’ve got me wondering, you can’t leave it there, so tell, I shan’t have hysterics.”Jude heaved a sigh and said, “I know you’re birth mother.”I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t that and it stunned me into silence for a few moments. Recovering I said, “You really know her?””Yes.””How do you know her, it’s supposed be a great secret?””She’s been my friend since we were at elementary school together.””She’s been…so how is it mum didn’t know?”Jude shrugged, “Your mother is so much older than me; she never knew who I associated with.””So you’ve known all these years and never said a word?””What would be the point,” Jude said, “you seemed quite happy and never said anything about your birthmother, at least in my hearing, so why stir up something that didn’t need stirring.””So now you have stirred something up,” I said.From being quite laid back about my birthmother I now became intrigued and asked a question that I suppose most adopted people ask, “Why did she give me up for adoption.””Are you sure you want to know?” Jude asked.”Of course I’m sure,” I said with a vehemence that surprised even me. “She was only fifteen…” Jude began.”Fifteen!” I said, “my God she was still only a k**.””Yes, that was just the point. She went to a birthday party and met up with a guy in his twenties, it often happens you know, and…well she believed all his crap about undying love and…and then you came along and his undying love expired. She didn’t even know she was pregnant until it was too late for an abortion, and so it was adoption.””Great to know how much I was wanted,” I said sarcastically.”You’ve no cause for complaint,” Jude snapped. “Just look at how well you’ve done, you’ve been…”I felt ashamed and butted in, “Sorry Jude…sorry…it was stupid remark.””Okay, so that’s the story more or less,” Jude said dismissively.”Come on Jude,” I objected, “there’s got to be more.””Like what?”I thought for a moment and then said, “What does she look like, is she married, has she got other k**s, where does she live.””For someone who said he wasn’t concerned about his birthmother you seem to be taking a lively interest,” Jude said mockingly. “Well you started it,” I retorted.”All right,” Jude agreed, “I started it, so, to answer your questions in order. What does she look like? That’s hard to say…I mean people have different ideas about how…””How tall is she?” I cut in impatiently.”Oh, about five feet six — she not got a bad figure in a…er…in full figured sort of way, if you know what I mean.””You mean she’s fat?” “No, not at all, she’s…er…what’s the word?””Sonsy?” I supplied.Yes….yes, that’s it, and she’s got quite a nice face but a bit severe…oh I don’t know, she was a nice looking girl and she’s quite an attractive woman now, and no, she isn’t married…never has been and there are no c***dren.””Nice looking and she’s never married, is she gay?””I’ve never married,” Jude said reproachfully. I thought that the conversation might end there because Jude would get in a huff over my faux pas but she went on, “She lives in the city…””You mean Adelaide?””Yes.”I laughed and said, “Then I might have seen her without ever knowing she was my mother.” “Possible,” Jude said. “She’s an eye specialist — quite an eminent one and…””You don’t mean Laura Drysdale by any chance?” I interrupted. Jude looked startled. “How do you know?””Easy,” I replied rather truculently, “she was being interviewed on television a couple of week ago about some new eye treatment. She’s quite a looker for her age, really sexy.”Greg, she’s only thirty six, the same age as me, and…and we’re talking about your birthmother and not some girl you’ve just picked up.”Another near faux pas, so I hastened on; “Does she know you’re my aunt?””Of course she knows,” Jude said with that sort of patience that implies you’re an idiot. “She’s sort of kept in touch with you through me, and it’s not always been easy, especially lately.””Why lately?””Because she’s started to talk about you a lot; almost obsessively.”The light suddenly shone. “Aha, so that’s why you’ve raised the subject.””What do you mean?””You’ve been wondering if I’d be prepared to meet her.””Yes,” Jude said trying to sound offhand, “I suppose that has been on my mind, I mean, a lot of women who’ve given up a c***d for adoption do start to get…well, as I said, obsessive about the c***d, it seems to come back to haunt them, especially at Laura’s age.””So she’s neurotic about me?””I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, but she does wonder. Would you be prepared to meet her?”I laughed and said, “If it’ll stop her being obsessive I don’t mind.””So I go ahead and arrange a meeting here?””Yes, why not, but the thing is, I’ve occasionally watched those TV shows where they bring long lost people together. They slobber and weep all over each other; revolting; I want none of that. I often wonder how they feel after a few weeks and they’ve got to know each other. I’ll bet a lot of them wished they’d never met.””Damned cynical aren’t you,” Jude said acerbically, “Are you sure you want me to make the arrangement?”Trying to sound as if I didn’t really care one way or the other, I said, “Yes…yes go ahead.” kocaeli escort I must admit that Jude had got me really interested in meeting Laura Drysdale.* * * * * * * * Next day Jude told me that she’d arranged the meeting between me and Laura for the following Sunday afternoon. I thought of her as Laura Drysdale because I couldn’t bring myself to think of her as mother. That Sunday afternoon was four days off and I admit that for a young man who thought he was cool about his birthmother, I found myself getting somewhat wound up about meeting her. Would she like me and would I like her; would we get on together; would our acquaintance extend beyond this meeting, and if so in what form?One request I made of Jude was that for the time being mum and dad wouldn’t be told about this meeting, and she agreed it might not be a good idea if they did know at this stage — one more secret for her to keep.Throughout Sunday morning I got really stirred up, and by arrival time I was actually trembling. The sound of the front door bell sounded like the clap of doom to me. This was it, but I wasn’t sure what “it” was.I’d picture myself casually sitting in the living room as Laura entered, and rising to say a friendly but relaxed “Hello.” It wasn’t like that at all. True I was sitting until that front doorbell rang, and then I leapt to my feet as if I’d been bitten on the bum by a viper. Jude left the room, I heard her open the front door, there was some whispered conversation in the entrance hall and then she came back into the room followed by the women who must be my birthmother.Jude looked a bit more than slightly embarrassed as she said, “Greg this is your…your…this is…er… Laura Drysdale; Laura, this is Gregory.”Yes, it was the Laura Drysdale I had seen on television but perhaps not quite so attractive — they do a lot with makeup, lighting and camera angles on TV. Laura came over to me, there was a moment of awkwardness as if neither of us knew what to say or do next, and then we shook hands and said “Hello.”I looked into her face and saw her eyes fixed on me, dark eyes with an oriental upward slant at the corners, her nose short and slightly upturned and her plump lips and that hair, dense glossy jet black hair.Jude had been quite right when she described Laura as full figured. Even the sober business trouser suit she was wearing could not hide her impressive bust and rounded hips. Her legs were concealed by her trousers but at least they looked long. When she said “Hello” her voice was soft and low, and when she smiled uncertainly she looked positively appealing. It was like the coming together of opposite poles of a magnet, or a jolt of electricity, and then the very things I had said I didn’t want and certainly had been determined not to experience myself happened. I was drowning in an irresistible flood of emotions; it was like those love at first sight experiences one reads about; the need for closeness for an intimacy.Jude, who had been the author of this situation either from delicacy or cowardice said, “Well…I’d…I’d better…er…leave you two alone to get to know each other.””To get to know each other”! I felt as if I’d know this woman all my life, she had always been there as part of me — an unacknowledged part of me. Physically I was very different from Laura, and I assume that I look like my deserting father, and yet it was as if I was seeing myself in Laura.That Laura was also experiencing profound emotions became quickly obvious. “Oh…oh…I told myself I wouldn’t,” she said, and I could see what she had told herself she wouldn’t do because tears were starting to run down her cheeks, and then I was crying. We came together embracing and somehow I managed to ease us to the sofa where we sat down. We were clinging to each other weeping and then I smelt a heady aroma, not perfume, but something dimly remembered that I couldn’t identify, as if from a long ago past. It was then that I experienced something that was about the last thing I expected or wanted; an aching sensation in my testicles and my penis hardening. The shock of sexual arousal was so great that I felt a sense of shame and guilt and knew that I should try to disentangle myself from our embrace, but I didn’t want to; I felt as if I could have held her forever.Laura began to recover from her initial reaction to our meeting, and taking out her handkerchief wiped her eyes and blowing her nose said, “Oh dear…oh dear oh dear, I’ve made a fool of myself, haven’t I?””Me too I said,” starting to wipe away my own tears, and then trying to smile, “I don’t know what to call you.””I understand,” she replied, still sounding husky, “You’ve got a mother and…” She started to sob again and haltingly said, “You’d better call me Laura.”That seemed to set off another a train of emotions as she sobbed, “I shouldn’t have done it…I shouldn’t have done it…””Met me?” I asked.”No…no,” she wept, “I shouldn’t have let you go, I’ve always regretted it.”I felt somewhat guilty that I couldn’t say that I’d regretted it too, at least, not until this meeting with her. “I suppose you want to know why I gave you up for adoption?” she asked.”It’s okay,” I replied, “Jude has told me the circumstances.”Laura told me anyway, and it was as if she was making a confession that she had to get out of her system. She added something that Jude had not mentioned; “It’s as if half of me has been missing all these years.””Twenty years,” I added superfluously.”Yes,” she said, “and you’re so like…like…” I knew she intended to say “like your father,” but she didn’t seem able to say it, and simply added “him,” as if to say otherwise might defile the moment and only add to the emotions already in play.Her head was resting against my shoulder and she reached up and started to stroke my cheek and I had an urgent the need to touch her skin and so I risked taking her hand in mine; is was small but it conveyed a feeling of strength.”Do you think we shall like each other?” she asked. I realised that her real question was, “Do you like me?” because this was the question I was asking myself, “Does she like me?” It was a ridiculous question really because how could we tell if we liked each other after only a few minutes, but it somehow seemed imperative.We seemed unable to physically disentangle ourselves, as if we were making up for the lost years. Laura started to ask me about how my life had been and about mum and dad, and I answered her as truthfully as I could. I got the impression that she knew a great deal about me via Jude, but she needed to hear it from me. After a while the matter of the future arose; were we to keep in touch? My answer was a clear “Yes.” I know that I felt a desperate need to be with Laura, and I got the impression that she felt the same way. My problem was that I didn’t believe I could share the emotions I was feeling, not even with Laura; to my mind they were too prurient and unacceptable but I didn’t seem to be able to stop them. We arranged to meet again, this time at her place, and the address she gave me indicted a very upmarket suburb.Jude entered with an anxious look on her face.”Well, how are you two getting along?” she asked.”Great,” I said, and Laura echoed, “Wonderful.”Jude looked relieved and laughing uneasily said, “I think you’ve been alone together long enough.” I glanced at my watch and saw Laura and I had been together for more than two hours but it had seemed to be no more than half an hour.Laura said she hadn’t realised how long we’d been talking and reluctantly said that she had to go. With Jude still with us we hugged. I wanted to kiss Laura on the lips but deciding to play it safe I kissed her on the forehead. She responded by kissing her hand and placing it on my cheek.When she had gone Jude asked, “Well, did I do the right thing?””You did very right,” I replied.* * * * * * * * It was another two days before I was to see Laura again for an evening meeting, but it seemed like an eternity. I wanted to be near her, to touch her, to hear her voice and to smell that allusive fragrance that I couldn’t quite identify. To my surprise she rang me the day after our Sunday meeting. My first thought on hearing her voice was that she was ringing to tell me our next meeting was cancelled, but not so.”I was just wondering what sort of day you’ve had?” she asked, rather like a mother might ask a son, but what followed was not so kocaeli escort bayan son and mother-like. It was more like lovers who sought any reason not to end the conversation and if the talk flagged we found any topic we could to keep going. When we finally ended the call I felt as if I was in love. I’d thought myself to be in love several times before, but nothing like this, nothing so intense. I told myself it was crazy; here was a woman who for twenty years had meant nothing to me and after one meeting I was desperate to be with her. I tried to stir up negative thoughts about her: “She deserted you, she gave you up for adoption, she didn’t want you, she hadn’t bothered for more than twenty years to try and contact you,” but it didn’t work.The most disturbing aspect was my sexual response to her and I told myself that this sort of emotional response was because we had been separated for so long and it would soon pass, but I wasn’t convinced. The mere thought of Laura had me sexually aroused, and as I was now thinking of her most of the time I was constantly horny. She was an attractive woman, but I had known attractive women before – women more physically attractive than Laura if looked at objectively, and they had not aroused me with the same intensity as Laura. So what was it that gave rise to such strong emotions in me?I wondered how Laura would feel if she knew how I was responding to her; would she be disgusted and end the relationship that had barely begun? I decided that I must conceal those feelings at all cost because not seeing Laura again was unthinkable. The evening I spent with Laura was one of the most beautiful and frustrating I’d ever known. She showed me over her house which was, as I’d anticipated, elegantly furnished. She had cooked an excellent meal and had a fine taste in wines. Relaxed we sat together on the divan in her living room, and without even thinking about it we held each other close. Quietly she started to tell me about her life as I listened intently; I wanted to know everything about her that I could. After that she questioned me, wanting to know every little detail about me. Other meetings with Laura followed and we would have made it every day if it had been possible, however brief the meeting. When we couldn’t meet we talked on the telephone. It seemed that we couldn’t leave each other alone we had become so wrapped in each other. It was worse than when I had been in pursuit of a girl I fancied. I simply knew I wanted to be with Laura; I belonged with her and I had never experienced this desire before, not even with the one I still called “Mother.”I was not really confused about what I wanted, that was all too clear, but it was what I wanted that troubled me, but to try and persuade Laura into letting me make love with her seemed to be out of the question, it would be i****t, and even if I could cope with the taboo, could Laura?For a brief time we managed to keep a “safe” distance between us by going out into public spaces to meet, like restaurants, theatres, cinemas, but quickly this changed and we constantly resorted to her house where we could be alone, and many evenings we sat hugging and stroking each other, and it was on such an evening that what I suppose was inevitable took place. I think we were both preoccupied with all the things we had missed during my growing up. This seemed like a continuous film loop with little bits added each time we made the round. It was while once more going round the loop that Laura said, “How would you like to come and live with me?”At that moment I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more than to live with her. There was of course the matter of Jude, but Laura said she thought Jude would understand the need we had to catch up on all the things we had missed. Laura was right. When together Laura and I told Jude that we were going to live together she smiled and said, “I thought that was how it would be, you have a lot of catching up to do and I can see that there are things that you have to do together that will be good for both of you.”That settled it, and I moved into Laura’s place. What I hadn’t counted on was the torment that this led to.One thing I quickly discovered was Laura’s idea of casual evening wear. Her habit after ending her work day was to come up to the flat, remove her somewhat austere business suit, take a shower and change into what I supposed was a negligee. She had several of these ranging in colour, black, white, red, pale green and pink. They varied from ankle length to mid thigh and the one thing they had in common was their transparency. Her breasts were invariably without a bra and her panties were more like a thong. I assumed that living alone for so long this was her way of relaxing for the evening, but I wondered if she knew what she was doing to me. It was made worse because we both seemed to need to be constantly touching and fondling each other, which became a feature of every evening we spent together, which was most evenings.* * * * * * * *To myself I acknowledged my sexual feelings for Laura, and I understood how close I was to crossing the line, and I wondered if Laura was experiencing the same, but neither of us could bring ourselves to talk about it. I questioned if I should break off the relationship entirely and go back to living with Jude, but I knew that when it came right down to it I wouldn’t be able to do it.There were other things, those crazy things that unrequited lovers are supposed to suffer from: unable to sleep, not wanting to eat, not able to concentrate on anything but the beloved one. That year I only just managed to sc**** through the exams.I could have found solace with some of the girls I’d been fucking with in the past, but Laura was the only one I wanted — the only one I wanted to be with, yet to be with her was a kind of mini-hell. The way I was must have started to show, and Laura said, “If you haven’t got any plans for the long vacation we could go away for a while to the shack.” I’d only heard about the shack; some seaside place that Laura had. I hadn’t got any plans, in fact I was almost incapable of making any plans, and Laura was looking tired her self, so I agreed. If I needed to be with Laura I might just as well be with her at the shack as with her in the house. And so we went to the shack, which, in keeping with Laura’s income, was a bit more than a shack and villa might better describe it. It was fine, well away from other houses, close to the beach, an attractive bay; the place was looked after by a local couple who specialised in looking after local holiday houses. I noticed that when Laura introduced me to the couple she was careful to refer to me simply as Gregory, without any mention of my being her son. I saw the couple give each other a knowing look, as if to say, “We know what you two are going to be doing.” That made me wonder if Laura had brought men here before.Laura’s sex life prior to my meeting her was something I had not asked her about since it was really none of my business, but as far as I could tell there had been no men around once I moved in with her. I suppose it was jealousy, but that evening as we sat together I took a chance, and approaching the subject as delicately as I could I asked, “Have you never thought of getting married?”It took a while before she answered, but when she did she sighed and said, “No, I could have got married a couple of times, but when it came right down to it I couldn’t go through with it.””You couldn’t go through…?””You see Greg,” she went on, “I think I was too traumatised.””Traumatised?””What happened with the man who was your father, getting pregnant and all the family strife over it, giving birth and then letting you go, and I was only fifteen. I was too scared to risk being…being…well I suppose scared of being dumped again. And then there was my career, that took up a lot of my time and then I never wanted anyone around…at least, not until you came into my life.””So…so there’s never been anyone?” I asked, cutting as close to the bone as I dared. She laughed softly and said, “There have been no lovers if that’s what you’re asking.” “I didn’t mean to probe,” I said untruthfully.She laughed again, “Oh yes you did Gregory, so now you know; satisfied?””Yes…yes, I just wondered.””Of course you did,” she replied, kissing me on the cheek, “I think it’s rather beautiful that you cared.” izmit escort It was then I went a step too far, or so I thought. “Don’t you ever have…don’t you want to…I mean…er…feelings?”Laura looked at me searchingly for a few moments as if uncertain how to answer, and then she said hastily, “If you mean sexual feeling, then yes, I do,” and then rising she said, “I’m going to bed,” and hastily left me.I thought I’d really blown it, asking such an intimate question, and I saw nothing for it but to go to bed myself, and hope that things would be okay in the morning.* * * * * * * *As usual those days I had trouble sleeping. I would lay awake thinking of Laura and when I did go to sleep I dreamt of her, but that night I couldn’t go to sleep. I was worried about the question I’d asked Laura and her abruptly leaving me. Restless, around one o’clock in the morning I got up and wandered into the living area. On the seaward side of the room was a large window and the moon was up and shining through it. As I looked towards it I saw Laura standing there half turned toward the window. The moonlight shone through the gossamer material of her nightdress and I could see her body clearly outlined; it was almost as if she was naked.I tried to remain silent as I stood entranced by her voluptuous figure, but I must have made a sound because Laura turned towards me saying, “Greg?””Yes.””You can’t sleep either.””No, I’ve been sleeping very badly for a long time.””Me too,” she said.We remained silent for a while looking at each other in the moonlight, and then Laura said, “We know why we can’t sleep, don’t we?””Yes.””Greg darling, we have to find out,” she said very softly, and extending her arms to me said, “come here.” I went to her and her arms went round me as she said, “I didn’t have you as a c***d, but I can have you as a man,” and raising her face she said, “Kiss me.” I brought my mouth to hers and kissed her. I had kissed her before and I kissed her now in the way I always had, but there was something different now. Her lips were soft and yielding, her tongue brushed over my lips and then her mouth was open, inviting my tongue to enter. For a few moments she let my tongue search the recesses of her mouth and then her tongue was tangling with mine. I felt her body moulded to mine and her hips gyrating her pubis over my erect penis. For a few moments she pulled away from me saying, “Let’s strip darling,” and in seconds her nightdress was lying on the floor quickly followed by my pyjama shorts. Then we were kissing frantically again as she slid the length of my penis between the wet swollen lips of her vulva and began to move back and forth over it. Slowly we sank down onto the carpet still clinging to each other as if fearful that if we let go the other would vanish. Lying beside me she said, “I never suckled you as a c***d,’ and she put her hand under one of her breasts and extended its nipple to me saying, “Suck me now darling.” I took her nipple into my mouth and sucked, and then I knew what the fragrance was that I had been unable to identify; it was the fragrance of mother, and not only fragrance, but now the taste of mother.I was overwhelmed, an impossible fantasy had become reality and I wanted to do everything to her at once, but as she held my head to her breast I had to content myself with exploring her genitals with my hand. She was very wet and I longed to have my tongue in that sweet place and taste her female juices, and when, after I had sucked her other nipple, she realised my head, I licked and sucked my way down to her vulva.Without a move from me she parted her legs as if divining what I was about to do. I couldn’t see her vulva clearly, but as I tasted her its lips felt swollen. Now, more potent than ever as I thrust my tongue into her, the intoxicating smell and taste of mother. She was now holding my head to her and above me I could hear her soft whimpering cries, “Yes….yes…yes…do it to me…don’t stop…please don’t stop,” and then a long drawn out scream as her body suddenly convulsed and she was jerking her cunt over the lower part of my face. “Oh God oh God oh God,” she wailed as her climax came and passed. When she had calmed I leaned over her and kissed her mouth with my cunt smelling lips. She lay very still and I moved to lay between her legs and probed for the entrance to her vagina with my penis. As I entered her she spoke, “Oh God, oh God, it’s been so long…it feels so good…” I began to move in and out of her, slowly at first and then faster. As I felt my testes preparing to release their burden I slowed again, thrusting in deeper. I kissed her again and her tongue was in my mouth as I released my seed into her, my hands under her buttocks as I dragged her onto me, her legs round me as we strove for ever deeper penetration. I was spurting into her, releasing all the banked up frustration of the past weeks.It was over and she lay limply under me and impulsively I moved down her body again. Her legs were still spread wide and her cunt was dripping my semen. I bent over it and tasted the melange of our fluids. It seemed to drive her mad and to my surprise she came again, crying out my name as the spasms racked her. When it was over we lay side my side and she said, “You are such a wonderful lover,” and I replied, “That’s because I love you.” “Then I must show you how much I love you,” she replied and in seconds her face was over my penis. She took its head into her mouth and started to suck while stroking my length. I took longer to come this time but she didn’t seem to mind, and even when I warned her I was about to ejaculate she continued to suck and lick while I pumped my sperm into her mouth. We lay holding each other, for the moment content simply to feel our bodies close. It was as if we had become one, as if we had melded together. Finally as if by silent agreement we rose and showered and then went to her bed. Always thereafter I was to share her bed and always share our bodies. That night we seemed to find an impossible level of sexual energy and when we finally slept it was face to face with my penis still in her vagina — a vagina filled with my cum. * * * * * * * * We woke very late in the morning and there now followed days of love making and deep contentment; we knew now that we belonged together and we felt no guilt or shame that it was birthmother and son who made love with each other, it seemed that this was just as it should be. We had not intended a long stay at the shack, but days extended into weeks. I thought we might slow down in our love making, but the more we did it the more we seemed to want to do it. When we were not actually physically united we wanted to be united, and the wish was quickly followed by the deed. Where I got the sperm to fill her vagina or her mouth I hardly knew, but such was the drive to penetrate her I had had the strange experience of a dry orgasm, when having no sperm to give her I still got the sensation of ejaculating. It was towards the end of the third week that Laura told me she thought she was pregnant. That came as no surprise since we had used nothing to prevent pregnancy, and after discussion, during which Laura said that this time there would be no adoption or an abortion, we agreed that this was what we had both really wanted. This did present a problem. Obviously we could not get married and I could not hide for ever the fact that Laura and I were living together as lovers from my parents, but what we did have to hide was the fact that she was my birthmother. When eventually we came back to town Jude had to be told of Laura’s pregnancy. She simply smiled and said, “I knew how it would have to be for you two.”As for my parents, Laura and I went together to visit them and, I fear, had to tell them some stories to cover up the fact that Laura was my birthmother. Since mum and dad were told that Laura was pregnant the question of marriage came up. Laura and I had to put on a fine show of being very twenty first century people and not believing in formal marriage, which, after all, “Is only a bit of paper mum.” Of course the matter of age disparity came up, but in the end mum and dad were convinced that Laura and I had a strong commitment to each other. Little did they realise just how strong that commitment is. I think we left them reasonably happy about us.There is a bond between Laura and me that I think goes beyond most such bonds between men and women. Is that because she is my birthmother? Then perhaps that bond is always there between mothers and their sons, but does not always find its fulfilment in the act of sexual love.

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