Mom had asked if Marianne was ready for my cock. Mari's eyes burned with excitement, but flickered with a bit of trepidation. Mom picked up on this subtle look. "May I ask you something, sweetheart? When is the last time you were with a man? Marianne admitted that aside from being raped at 13 she was in all other ways, a virgin!!! The idea that I was to be her first, perhaps not technically, but certainly emotionally, her first lover was a bit daunting.
"If that is the case," Mom suddenly stated gently, "then we need to do this very differently." Her serious look softened a bit and a broad smile grew on her face. "I have an idea. I think though that we should sleep now and begin again tomorrow?"
Saturday morning broke bright and clear. The sun was not yet up when I snuck out of bed from between the 2 of my sexy lovers and strode naked to the kitchen to make coffee. I noticed that, though my cock wasn't hard exactly, it was very thick and full feeling. I had been in an almost constant state of arousal since Mom had arrived in France. I replayed the events of the past few days in my head, grinning and at the absurdity of the situation and the incredible good fortune that I was experiencing lately. I flashed on the likelihood that I would be inserting this very penis into Mari sometime today or tomorrow latest. I had dreamed of this since the night I first met her.
I then recalled the details of her earlier life which sobered me up no end, and deflated my penis a bit. "Fuckin' Hell!" I whispered aloud at the recollection of the details. I felt gutted for her. I leaned my elbows on the sink and held my head in my hands and fresh tears came anew at the recollection of her agony. I could scarcely imagine a life so filled with such tragedy; this beautiful young girl that I had come to love, had been through such deep despair and yet had been so upbeat and full of life the entire time I knew her. I realized that I didn't really know her at all. That kind of strength, of such emotional muscle, made me feel quite inadequate by comparison. Arms slipping silently around me made me jump.
"Bonjour, mon amour." Marianne whispered into my ear. I was so surprised I turned to face her, my tears forcing the smile from her face, replacing it with a look of deep concern. "Awndy? Something is the ... injury?" she asked funnily, yet sincerely. I simply looked into her eyes, wanting more than anything to devote my life to making up for her first 18 years of life. Her look became alarmed when I did not immediately respond.
"Oh, Marianne. You sweet, beautiful, wonderful girl." I told her softly. I pulled her perfect, naked frame firmly in my arms. "It makes me so happy that you are here with me; with us." Her angelic smile slowly returned. Our eyes fixed on each other for a bit, and she wiped the tears from mine. "I was just thinking about what you told us yesterday, about your life, your family." Her smile faltered a bit at the memory, and she placed her head against my chest. "Would you be a part of our family?" I asked her without thought to the true import of what I was asking. Being so close to her had a tendency to melt my rational mind.
Mari's face jerked back and her eyes came immediately to mine with a look of such seriousness, that I was afraid I had insulted her. I racked my brain to think what I had done to upset her. Her eyes misted over and her chin began to quiver.
"Mari, ... sweetheart, ..." I began. Her arms fairly crushed me as she wrapped them tightly around me and her head fell forward against me as she began crying in earnest. I replayed the last few moments, recalling what I had said.
Would you be a part of our family? I had asked; innocently, impulsively. For someone with Mari's background it was like asking if she wanted to be saved from drowning. I stroked her back and simply held her. Her beautiful body racked from her heaving breathes. I held her tighter, and she crushed me even tighter, fairly cracking a rib.
Her sobbing woke my mother, whose face appeared at the bedroom door. She at first gave me a look as if to question what I had done to upset her, but then softened into real concern for our dear little friend. Silently she crossed the room and pressed up against Mari from behind
"Sweetheart, baby, what's wrong?" Mom's eyes came up to mine still questioning silently. Mari tried to say my name, but with her heaving sobs and face pressed into my chest it was unintelligible.
"I asked her if she wanted to be a part of our family." I told mom in a quiet voice. Mom's look instantly told me that she understood the import of what I had said, particularly to this broken, fragile woman/child. Mom's expression, as she gazed into my eyes first indicated 'What the hell were you thinking?', then instantly morphed into, 'Well of course." In that instant she realized that what we were building, emotionally, was far deeper than a simple fuck. She realized that both of us wanted her. To be in our lives, to share our lives; be family. We both wanted and needed her as much as she wanted and needed us.
Her concerned look dissolved into one of such understanding maternal love that I gathered her into our embrace as tightly as I could. We stood there for a long time, until Mari composed herself and we eased our tight grip. Mari hung her head for a bit, seemingly ashamed at her show of emotion. This was something she never showed to anyone outwardly.
From over her shoulder Mom took her chin and gently turned and raised her face and kissed her. I watched the sweetest, most emotional, most loving kiss I had ever seen pass between them. They separated a few inches and then gazed into each other's eyes.
"Would you be a part of our family?" Mom asked her. Mari bit her lower lip, still staring deeply into my mother's eyes. Mom simply smiled; the loving mother.
"Truly?" Mari asked in the quietest, softest voice. Mom smiled wider and nodded. Mari turned to me. "Truly?" she asked me. I smiled and nodded. A long moment passed, before she disengaged from us and backed away, scarcely believing such a thing was possible for her. She had a look of both yearning to believe it was true and deep fear that it was not. Mom and I just stood there.
Mari hugged herself, covering her breasts, appearing more emotionally naked than ever in her life. "Truly?" she asked again, quietly.
"Please, sweetheart," Mom asked, "please be a part of us, part of our family."