It Started as a Joe

The third chapter in the It Started as a Joke series. There is some trauma related to losing a child in this story. If this is a troubling topic to you, please reconsider reading.

Once again, much thanks to @kenjisato for his fine proofreading skills. He fixes many of my mistakes, but unfortunately, I might add a couple back in if I am making last minute changes. The mistakes are mine, not his.

MCCR

As soon as I saw Kimberly waiting for me, I knew it was her. She was close to my height, she had the same jet black hair, and she looked a lot like me when I was her age. I couldn't help but start crying, as soon as I saw the little girl I had long thought died at birth. She came to me and helped me into the car. I didn't want to talk about finding my daughter while sitting behind the driver, so I kept the conversation to my flight, how glad I was to be back in town, etc.

The driver dropped us off at the Chick-fil-A. We ordered and found a booth in the corner. I used to love coming here with my husband. Well, technically, my ex-husband, but I was sure I would get him back after I explained why I left. I had only divorced him because I had recently discovered that a child we both thought was dead, was alive and well. I knew in my heart, once he saw his daughter, he'd forgive me for hiding this from him, but first, I had to confirm it. I had to find her and make sure that she was my daughter. I didn't want him to go through the agony I was re-living, if it wasn't true.

********

I met Thomas Brooks the summer between our sophomore and junior years. We were both lifeguards at the YMCA. He was cute, but not hunky like some of the other guys. Everyone seemed to like and respect him. For some reason, he never picked up on all the flirting the female-- and one male-- lifeguards did when he was around. He and I were often scheduled together, so we got to know each other really well.

I was surprised when he asked me to go to the movies after work one day. I was even more surprised when I had the best time I'd ever had on a date. We actually talked about real things.

With other guys I'd gone out with, we would end up talking about people we knew, TV shows, which professors had easy classes. Tom and I talked about what our lives were actually like. What our parents were like, religion, politics, what our life goals were, etc.

Tom really wanted to be a teacher, I wanted to be a school counselor. We had so much in common, it was scary. We both loved horseback riding, even though we rarely got to do so, since neither of us owned a horse, or even lived near a farm. Tom would even tease me when I wore my hair up in a ponytail and call me his little filly.

It didn't take long for us to become exclusive; well, for it to be official, anyway. After that first date, I never went out with anyone else. I was captivated by this man, even though most people considered him plain and ordinary. Most would not consider him handsome, but once I spent time with him, I began to see him differently. He was handsome to me, not just because he was six feet tall, fit and trim, and well groomed (I'd find out later he manscaped before it became popular). He truly was handsome when you combined his cute face with his amazing personality. This was someone I could see myself spending plenty of time with.

Our summer was wonderful. We dated as much as possible, I even met his parents. My parents were in Oklahoma. I stayed in Raleigh for the summer because my parents were having issues and were trying really hard to work on their marriage. They asked me to stay in my apartment for the summer, and I was then glad I had.

When school started back up, I went to Peace (William Peace University) and Tom went to State (North Carolina State University), so we were really close. Tom was studying to be a science teacher, I was going to be a school guidance counselor. We didn't get to spend as much time as we'd hoped together, due to classes and studying, but we talked on the phone as much as possible, annoying both our roommates. We didn't become intimate until the following spring, Valentine's Day to be exact. It was ironic, because neither of us liked the holiday. It just happened to be a weekend that we could both get away, so we spent it in a cabin in the mountains.

Neither of us were virgins, but we weren't very experienced, either. We were shy to begin with, but I discovered that Tom gave his all to everything he did. My previous experiences were brief. Both boys (compared to Tom, anyway) thought that all they needed to do was maul my breasts and rub my pussy through my jeans to get my panties off; then once they were off, fucking started. And in both cases, they didn't last very long the first time, and I was always disappointed if I expected them to go a second time. Tom was so different, I guessed he had more experience.

After we got to the cabin, he first built a fire, then moved furniture so that we could lie in front of it. He laid down a sleeping bag he had brought with him and we sat on it. We began kissing, and I expected him to start with roaming hands like my previous boyfriends. Instead, he began with roaming kisses. He kissed up along my jawline to my ear, nibbling on my earlobe. I had never experienced that before, and I felt it in my pussy.

He didn't linger, but worked his way down from my ear to my neck, then down and around, under my chin and up to my other ear, giving it a little nibble as well. By then, I was definitely getting wet. I had never before gotten wet until after my panties came off. This was some next-level foreplay. Back then, I didn't even know the word-- but, I sure learned the definition that night.

Tom found a spot I didn't know existed behind my ears that caused me to moan. Once he found it, he spent some time there, then found its twin behind my other ear. I was prepared to fuck already. I hadn't had this much pleasure from any of my previous liaisons. I had never had an orgasm from a man, and only small ones (I would discover) from my own fingers. I was already close and I was still fully dressed.

It was February, in the mountains, so it was cold out and I was wearing a sweater. Tom stopped his lip-and-tongue work and leaned back. Looking directly into my eyes, he asked if it was okay to remove my sweater. I had never been asked before. The other boys had just undressed me when

they

were ready. I couldn't form words, so I just nodded my head. Tom grabbed the hem of my sweater and gently pulled upward. Once it was off, he gently laid it aside and just looked at my body. He asked me to remove my bra and I did. All the while, he was visually examining my entire torso. Not just my boobs. He started at my waist and his eyes traveled hungrily upward, across my stomach, my breasts, my shoulders, my neck, then back down again. I felt like the finest cut of meat available, judging by his eyes, but in a good way.

He hungered for all of me-- not just my pussy. He looked like he wanted to taste all of me. And he tried. He started kissing every inch of flesh he could get his tongue on. I was on fire! I was squirming, trying to direct where he was kissing, but he acted like he had a roadmap and was following it exactly. When he finally got to my nipples, I was so primed that I had an orgasm immediately. It was much more powerful than I had ever given myself, and I screamed. I had my eyes tightly closed, so I was startled when I opened them again and Tom was right there, looking into my eyes. This time, he asked if he could remove my jeans.

I nearly screamed, "YES!" this time.

He slowly unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. I raised my hips up, letting him know it was okay to pull them down. As he did, I could suddenly smell my arousal. I could tell by the movement of his nostrils that he was breathing in my scent, as well. He looked hungry, and I was wondering if he would put his mouth there. A couple of my girl friends had talked about it, but I had never experienced it. The other two guys had thought it was nasty to do that. Of course, they expected me to go down on them, so I really couldn't understand that.

I thought he would remove my panties next, but he just leaned in and put his nose about an inch from my pussy and inhaled deeply. The ecstasy on his face was evident. I had always been self-conscious about my odors. I knew I had a strong scent, and I thought that was a bad thing, that maybe that was what kept the boys from wanting to put their faces down there. Tom, however, looked like he wanted nothing more than to devour my pussy. Which was why I was surprised when he asked me to roll over onto my stomach.

When I rolled over, Tom began pulling down my panties. As he did, he placed kisses along the top edge of them. His kisses followed the fabric down, kissing all along the top edge, back and forth. When a kiss first touched the top of my butt crack, I felt a strong shiver run through me. Tom felt it as well. I could tell because my shiver brought a moan from deep in his throat, almost a growl.

I wanted him to rip my panties off and take me right then, but he kept torturing me. At least, it felt that way at the time. He continued and started adding a lick every time his lips passed over my crack. When he got my panties even with my backdoor, I both yearned for him to lick it, and dreaded it at the same time.

He stopped kissing and raised his head, saying, "Later, I promise."

I found myself looking forward to him keeping that promise. He finished pulling my panties off and asked me to roll back over. I couldn't roll over fast enough.

I wanted him to fuck me right then, and to fuck me hard. Again, he disappointed me, but only temporarily. He went back to my breasts and sucked and licked each one for a few seconds, then kissed his way down my stomach; he stuck his tongue in my belly button and I flinched, partly due to arousal, but mostly because it tickled. When he realized that spot was ticklish, he moved on down.

I discovered, thanks to Tom, that the mons is one of my erogenous zones. A strong one at that. When he kissed through my pubic hair, I pushed my hips upward, wanting more contact with his mouth. He definitely growled this time, and I swore he nipped at my mound with his teeth. I, again, pushed toward his mouth and he backed off this time, denying me that contact. I whimpered without realizing it.

The next thing I felt was his tongue on my pussy. It was a feeling I knew I would treasure forever. He licked from the bottom of my slit to the top. Several times, he repeated that simple lick and I gasped each time. He stopped licking my slit to kiss along each side, teasing each labia by kissing, licking, then nibbling. I was moaning almost constantly by this time. He moved just a little higher and I thought he was going to suck my clit, but I felt a finger enter me slowly. I moaned louder as he slowly pushed his finger in all the way, then pulled it back out. He did that a few times, with me trying to match his thrusts with my own.

He then added a second finger and began bending his fingers. Back then, I didn't even know about G-spots, but he had found mine. He could tell when he touched it and as soon as he began rubbing it, his lips surrounded my clit and he started sucking. I could have sworn I saw flashing lights, I felt the Earth shake, and I felt water gushing forth. The next thing I knew, Tom was wiping my forehead with a damp cloth. I had passed out.

I thought I had peed all over him, and I immediately started apologizing. It took a long time for me to accept that I hadn't peed. One way he convinced me was by going down and licking my still wet thighs and telling me it didn't taste like pee. He even came back up and let me smell his face, which he had rubbed on my thighs and the wet spot on the sleeping bag. I surprised him by liking his face to taste it, then trying to lick his face clean. By that time, I was ready for more and he gently slid forward until he was at my entrance. He had removed his own clothes, while I was passed out.

I felt the tip of his cock part my lips and he just moved it around, sliding up and down, side to side, without entering any further. When I started to raise my hips to get him in, he pushed forward, entering me a little at a time. This was also something new. It felt so much better being entered slowly, than having it rammed in all at once. When he got all the way in, I realized he was deeper in than either boy before. Being passed out when he disrobed, I never saw what he was working with, but I sure could feel it. He started slowly pulling back, then pushing it back in. I had never experienced anything like this. I realized that sentence would describe my entire night.

We thrust together for a long time. Tom kept changing his tempo and depth of his thrusts. I could feel myself getting closer to another orgasm, and I told Tom so. Then, he changed his tempo again, slipping his hand between us and started rubbing my clit. Soon, I was moaning loudly and Tom released my clit, leaned in to kiss me again, and pinched my nipple with his pussy-moistened fingers. I screamed into his mouth and climaxed again. I could feel Tom thrust forward and I could feel his ejaculation as he shot stream after stream of his come deeply in my pussy. I was barely able to move as Tom finally lay down on top of me, and when he finally softened and slid out of me, he fell over to the side, pulling me so I was draped across his chest. The last thing I heard before I fell asleep was a whispered, 'I love you.'

That set the stage for the weekend. We did leave the cabin for a little while, but we spent a lot of time in front of the fire. We even made it to the bed a couple of times. True to his promise, he did return his tongue to my backdoor during one of our sessions. He licked and probed my anus. I thought I would be disgusted by something like that, but I loved every second of it. He promised that after we got back home and found some lube, he would do more. At the time, I had never imagined anal sex, but I learned to love it quickly. By the time we made it back to my apartment Sunday night, I was convinced I was going to live a long, happy life with this man.

About five weeks after returning home, I started waking up sick every morning. I had missed my period, but I thought it was due to the stress from classes. I told Tom and he took me to the doctor to confirm what we had suspected-- I was pregnant. Tom was ecstatic. I was terrified. I was confused. I had taken birth control; I thought we were safe.

Tom was over the moon. It wasn't planned, but he wanted children with me. He proposed before we even got home. We even stopped at a jeweler and picked out a ring. We were happy and in love.

We got married over the summer, living in an apartment our senior year. Our baby was due in mid-November, so in the middle of October, we visited my parents in Oklahoma. I still had a lot of friends there, who wanted to give me a baby shower. We drove, because it wasn't a good idea for me to fly at that point. We broke the drive up over three days. Since I was eight months pregnant, I didn't want to ride in the car for over eight hours a day.

Even with my huge baby belly, Tom still thought I was sexy and we made love almost every night throughout my pregnancy. Those two nights on the road were no different. We got there the afternoon of the shower, and I told Tom that since he drove the entire way, he could rest at my parents' house and I would drive myself to the shower. Since it was the town I grew up in, I knew the best way to get there.

After the shower, I was driving back to my old house when a car ran a red light and T-boned my car. Luckily, the car hit the passenger side. If it had been on the driver's side, I might not have survived.

The other driver was the husband of a pregnant woman who was on her way to deliver. Two pregnant women were rushed into surgery. At first, my injuries didn't seem that bad, but the doctor said there were extensive internal injuries, and I had lost my baby. My injuries required emergency surgery. The surgeries were successful, but I was told I would never be able to have children. I remembered screaming, and the nurse requesting a sedative for me, then my world going black, just as my husband arrived in my room.

I didn't remember much of the time I spent in the hospital, except that I cried a lot. Tom was constantly by my side, ensuring me that the accident was the fault of the other driver, there was nothing I could have done. I barely remembered the people who visited to offer sympathy for my loss, and to see if I was going to be okay. I didn't think I would ever be okay again.

Tom and I were devastated. We cried, we moped around, we lashed out at each other. Eventually, with a lot of counseling, we made it through; we became a stronger couple by working through our pain together. We grew closer, and after I recovered physically, we made love again, tentatively at first, but very quickly, we got back to our normal amount, which was at least three times a week, sometimes four or more times. We both had higher sex drives than most other people I talked to. I thought it was normal, until a coworker said she and her husband only made love once a week.

Tom easily found a job after graduation as a science teacher. He got to choose which school he wanted because he had several offers. He said it was because he was a man, rare in middle-school education. I thought it was because of his charisma. He just had this... I didn't know how to describe it. People were just drawn to him. He had so many friends in college and at his school.

I found a job at a high school nearby, being the guidance counselor for the freshman class. The job would work on a rotating basis-- I would stay with the same kids, year after year, to get to know them better, until they graduated, then I would start with a new group of freshmen.

We knew we would never be able to have children, so we considered adoption. We tried several adoption agencies, but never found a match for us. We eventually realized that we had kids around us each day. We were already investing in over a hundred children every day. We could devote ourselves to being the best influences we could to those children.

Things were going well until my mother had a heart attack. My father had passed away a few years ago, so I went out to Oklahoma to be with her. I went straight to the hospital to be with her. She was worse than I had expected. She was barely hanging on and asking for me. She was in and out of consciousness for several hours before she fell asleep. I sat with her and fell asleep beside her bed. I was startled awake when I felt my mother grip my hand. She had a sad smile on her face as she looked at me.

"At home on the kitchen table is a letter I received from an anonymous person. You need to read the letter yourself. Please sit down before you do. The envelope was addressed to

The Mother of Michelle

, so I opened it. There was a full-page letter with a Post-It note stuck to it. The note said simply 'This letter is for Michelle. Please read it first and I'll let you make the decision of whether or not to give it to her.'

I read the letter and I think you should read it as well. Just make sure you are rested and alert first. I think the shock of what I read brought on my heart attack. The doctors say I was a walking time bomb already. If the letter hadn't caused it, something else would have, so don't blame the letter or the author, if you should find them..."

And then she slipped into unconsciousness again. Later that day, she passed away without waking again.

I still had my key to my old home, so I went there to try and get some sleep. I was still crying and extremely tired, so when I saw the letter Mom mentioned, I decided to wait until morning to read it, remembering what my Mom said about being rested and alert.