Lullaby
A sequel to I'd Be Better Off
Disclaimers:
No one under 18 years old is engaging in any sexual contact or conduct.
Forward:
My stories are works of absolute fabricated fiction. They aren't even based upon real people. They are just stories that come from my strange mind. I will say that I don't typically think of the Loving Wives category as a place of heroes. The stories in this category typically represent two diametrically opposed viewpoints. The slighted man that goes off violently and so harshly that I wonder if they even knows about the concept of love or weird dudes that get off on somebody screwing their wives (I really hate those stories and wish they would put them in the fetish category so I could avoid them. That's just my opinion) I rarely have more than a few hours of thought invested in them. I am glad that they provoke you to think and consider new points of view and ideas. Additionally, they aren't edited all that well because I have other responsibilities and don't have the time to go through them carefully. Like I said in my profile this is just a new hobby.
"Amy, it's time for breakfast," my mother softly called from my open bedroom door. I was stuck in my childhood bedroom again. I desperately wanted to run away but my parents wouldn't leave me unsupervised for even a moment. They were worried about me after my breakdown at Will's funeral.
"Mom, I'm not hungry; my stomach is still bothering me."
"This is the third day this week, sweetheart. Maybe you need to see Dr. Wilson."
"My health insurance doesn't work here in Alabama, mom. I'll be fine. I just miss him so much." A tidal wave of guilt and shame crashed over me again. "It's all my fault, mama! Will is gone because of me. If I would have listened, he would still be alive. Why did I ignore what his heart was saying? It's all my fault."
She wrapped her arms around me again as I continued to sob. "Hush baby, there's nothing we can do about it now. We have to help you find a way to move forward."
I bawled my eyes out for the fourth day in a row. Will's funeral made everything so real. He was really gone and I would never get to see him again. My Will had left me here in soul crushing sorrow. He had been my best friend, my husband, and my only lover and now he was gone because I developed an infatuation with his older brother.
I don't know if Will chose pre-law because he was so detail oriented or if the classes drilled it into him. Looking back, I believe it was the former. Will had preplanned his memorial service. He had picked out contingencies for all three scenarios. He planned a service with no body, closed casket, or open casket. He chose the funeral home, his casket, his clothing, the song selection, and even the preacher. His parents and I were allowed to contribute some pictures to accompany one of the songs.
I appreciated them for even allowing me to be present. My decisions had directly led to their oldest son killing their youngest. Jake had been cleared of any legal wrong doing but we both knew we were responsible. He had tried to reach out to me a few times but every time I saw him or heard his voice, I would see Will's dying eyes and hear him whisper "love you more."
The funeral began with George Jones singing
He Stopped Loving Her Today
being played with our picture montage. It was filled with pictures of us. I crumbled. Mom and dad tried to hold me in place but I had to get to Will one last time.
"I am so sorry, baby. I really do love you more. I am so sorry! Don't worry Will I come to you soon. We'll be together again, sweetheart. I'm coming Will."
My dad basically carried me back to my seat. I stayed there for the rest of the service. I don't really remember much of it. Now, I was confronted with the reality that I was a 22-year-old widow because I told my husband that I wanted to divorce him and marry his brother. I don't know if I can live with myself.
I was sick again the next morning and mom insisted I see our family doctor. "I'll pay for the office visit, Amy, but something is wrong and we need to get it checked out."
"Fine"
Dr. Wilson was a kind little old lady that had been my doctor ever since I had left the hospital nursery. Like everyone else in our community, she had been rocked by Will's death. I wasn't sure how well she would receive me considering my role in this tragic mess. I walked into the reception area to check-in.
"I am here for my appointment with Dr. Wilson."
"Hello Mrs. Stanley, please fill out this form and return it to me. You're appointment time is in 5 minutes so please be quick."
Cold. If my interactions with Leslie, whom I had known since high school and now worked as Dr. Wilson's receptionist, were any indication then I was going to receive professional but completely impersonal care. I sat down and began filling out the questionnaire. It was all completely mundane and I was only kind of paying attention until I reached a completely normal but terrifying question.
When was your last menstrual period. Date ____________
I thought back over the last few weeks. They had been a blur of crying, raging, and self-loathing. I looked at my calendar app and realized that it had been more than six weeks since my last period. I began to panic. When was the last time that Will and I had made love?
"Hey, babe!" Will called out.
I was in the kitchen making preparation for dinner when he slid in behind me, engulfing me in his arms. Things had been strained between us for the past five weeks as my secret relationship with Jake had been developing, but I still loved his hugs. I let me hold me and soon he began swaying side to side pressed firmly against my back. I love Will, even though I think I may be falling in love with Jake. Soon Jake began kissing my neck and his hands began to roam all over my body. Oh, he knows how to turn me on!
"Want to slip back to our room, lover?" he whispered in my ear. "It's been far too long since I showed you how much I admire your body."
Too long? Had I been withholding love and sex from Will? It didn't matter in this moment. He wanted me and I wanted him.
"What about your dinner? I don't want you to starve," I asked with a smirk.
"Maybe we can start with dessert... and if we're still hungry later we'll figure something out," he growled.
Suddenly, my feet were in the air and Will was dashing toward our bedroom. Half tossing me, half laying me on the bed, he began his oral assault. The buttons on my blouse were being undone and his lips were kissing every inch that was being uncovered. I was feeling the heat of our bodies as our arousal continued to build. When he reached the final button of my blouse, I shrugged out of it and watched his face. The bra I had worn today was one of his favorites. It was a front closure and he absolutely delighted in unfastening it.
"My favorite! Time for a present for me," he mumbled between kisses.
I loved to watch Will's face when he exposed my boobs. It was as if he was experiencing sheer joy and lust. When I had considered it in the past, I couldn't say if Will was a breast or a butt man. He was simply my man. He seemed absolutely enthralled with all of me. It made me feel so special and loved. He began to maul my nipples with his tongue and lips, throwing in some soft nips with his teeth. His breath was becoming ragged. His hands began to fumble with the hook and button that held my slacks closed. Soon they too were removed from my body and discarded. Will began to work lower, soon he was face to face with my panties. He kissed the edges of them, teasing me and enflaming my lust even more.
"Please baby! I need you now," I begged.
"What do you want, sweetheart?"
"You! You know what I want; give it to me now!"
"No, not until you tell me."
"Kiss me!"
"Where, my love? Where do you want my lips?"
"My kitty! Kiss my kitty please, Will."
"Then tell me what I want to hear, Amy. You know the words."
Will was always trying to get me to engage in dirty talk. There were certain words that I hated and refused to use like titties. Other words I used only sparingly, so that I could excite him and incite him.
"Eat my pussy, Will. Stick your tongue in my cunt until I come so hard I can barely breath!"
At these words Will went after me with every trick he had learned about me. He licked from the perineum to the top of my slit. He started to do it again but stopped and inserted his tongue into my vagina, using his rigid tongue to tease the top of the opening. Then he began lavishing his affections upon my clit. My hips began to push into his face. I closed my eyes to enjoy the sensations when Jake's face popped into my mind. Oh, how I wanted to experience this with him in one of the exotic locations we had talked about. My orgasm began so I reached down and grabbed handfuls of Will's hair with my hands. "Oh-h-h-h-h!" I groaned as I reached my release. I looked down and saw Will's warm eyes looking up at me. Guilt swept through me.
He kissed up my body and I kept my legs spread for him. He reached my eye level and lowered his hips to mine. He loved to enter my slowly, savoring the feel of my kitty wrapping around him. I closed my eyes as he entered me once again thinking about Jake. "Look me at me, beautiful" he ordered. I didn't want to open my eyes and let go of my fantasy or experience the guilt again. I tried to pull him down to my shoulder so I could avoid seeing his face again. "Amy, I want to see your eyes," he repeated. I looked at him again and his face broke into the sweetest smile. "I love you, Amy."
He rocked forward and buried himself completely. After a couple of thrusts, I told him, "Roll us over; I want to ride you." We repositioned and I was able to enjoy my control over him and my fantasy. In this position, Will typically focused on my boobs. This allowed me to focus my attention on my imaginary lover. 10 minutes later we were both approaching the precipice. "Amy, I can't hold back much longer," I heard Will say. "Let go and come with me," I replied.
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That had been four and a half weeks ago. My fantasy had been so strong and so enjoyable, I made the worst mistake of my life. That was the day that I decided that I had to leave Will and run away with Jake. Now my hands were trembling. I had been faithful in taking my birth control pills. There was no way that I could be pregnant. My upset stomach had to be a product of the stress and guilt.