Amy, Terry, Tom... and Others - Cover

Amy, Terry, Tom... and Others

Copyright© 2010 by Tedbiker

Chapter 12

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 12 - Two... or is it three? Love stories, continuing the saga of Jenni, her 'family' and friends. It will make better sense if you've read the other 'Jenni' stories though it does stand alone.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Coercion   Heterosexual   Paranormal   Interracial   Slow  

"Hello, Beth. How's things?"

"Good, thanks. Callie only woke me twice last night. So ... what's up, doc?" Beth was pleased to hear her friend Amy's voice, but puzzled.

"How did you know I wanted something?"

"Since you saw me only three days ago ... I somehow think this isn't just to find out how I am."

"Well..." Amy drew it out, anticipating Beth's response, "I ... er ... need a baby-sitter, and since the twins are so fond of Jamie, I thought I'd ask if you'd mind lending him to me for an evening."

"A baby-sitter, hmmm?" Do you mean to tell me you're actually thinking of setting aside your 'widow's weeds'?"

"I just thought, you know, I haven't been out for a date since before Barry ... So ... when I got an offer, I thought, well, why not?"

"Humph. Just like that, huh?"

"Just like that. Of course, if it's not convenient..." Amy's voice was light, unconcerned, but Beth wasn't fooled.

"Come on, girl. Give! Who's the paragon that's tempted you away from loneliness?"

"Oh ... actually it's someone you know."

"Really? Do tell."

"John Shepherd ... from the Ashcroft Centre."

"I thought he had a 'significant other' already." Beth's voice revealed less enthusiasm. "Though I have to say I liked him when he accompanied the kids on that cruise last year."

"Apparently he came home early one evening and found her making out on the settee with someone else. Besides, I'm not about to hop into bed with him on our first date. Although, I have to admit ... I rather fancied him the first time I saw him; he just never made a move until yesterday. It was rather sweet; he was all nervous and shy."

"Well ... I dare say we could both come over, actually. When would you like us?"

"I haven't agreed a date yet, I wanted to line up some childcare first. Would there be a best evening for you?"

"Nah ... just give us a bit of notice."

"Beth ... thanks."

"It's nothing. Amy ... I'm just happy you're giving yourself a chance."

Hanging up, Amy found John's card and dialled his personal mobile. After ringing, it went to voicemail; she just said, "John? It's Amy Conway. Would you ring me back when you've got a minute?"


Terry was woken ... for the third – or was it the fourth – time, by Anh struggling and writhing in his arms.

"Annie ... Annie, precious ... ANNIE!"

She jerked in his arms. He couldn't see in the dark of the cabin, but her eyes were open, and she was waking up.

"Annie, my love ... Annie, speak to me ... Annie, I love you..." he kept talking, quietly, soothingly and lovingly until she went limp, then clung to him, not sensually, but a terrified child desperate for comfort and safety.

"Terry? Terry, darling – such a horrible dream."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart ... I shouldn't have encouraged you to stir that up."

"No, darling, you were right. I need to deal with it."

"Maybe, but I think perhaps we need some help. In the morning..."

"Just hold me, darling."

She lay half on him; arms round his neck, his arms around her, her legs wound round his right leg. Her breathing steadied and slowed and she slept.

Terry lay awake, too conscious of her body against his, her breasts, her mound against him. He mentally castigated himself for his arousal, so inappropriate in her need for protection. In time, he, too, slept.

He was woken by feathery kisses all over his face, the sensation of her hair brushing his face ... her tears falling on his face. "I love you, I love you..." she was whispering, over and over again.

"I know, sweetheart, I know ... and I love you too ... and today I'm going to start looking for some help."

Two nights, now. Two nights of increasing disturbance and distress. What kind of a fool was he, to get her to rake up her terrible memories?

She clung to him. "You should get rid of me; I am dirty, spoilt, ruined ... but I don't ... I can't let you go..."

"You aren't any of those things, you are lovely, caring and beautiful and I love you ... and I won't let you go. But right now, we need to dress and get some breakfast."

Marty was woken by his mobile; the display reading 'Terry'. What could be the problem? He was a little slow surfacing and the call went to voicemail before he could answer. It took two attempts to return the call and he heard Terry's voice.

"What's the problem, Terry?"

"It's Annie, Marty. I think she needs professional help; and I don't want to leave her on her own."

"Don't worry, Terry. Jenni and I will do the passage to Maldon on Monday. Give me an hour or so and I'll see what I can sort out for Annie, okay?"

He rang off and called Jessica Yeomans.

"Jessica? Sorry to bother you so early on a Sunday..."

"Don't worry; I trust you that it's important."

"That's it. I think it is, but I'm not sure how important. A few days ago we were talking to Tom, that young lad on work-experience aboard Emily Jane. Jenni and Annie Knight both spoke a little to him of their abusive pasts – we didn't know about Annie's, of course – and beginning to talk about it ... well it seems that's stirred up some stuff for her and Terry's really worried. Jenni and I can cover for Emily Jane, but Annie ... well, she probably needs some discreet professional help quite urgently."

"Okay, Marty. Leave it with me. Can you give me Terry's mobile number?"

Marty reeled it off.

"Thanks. Tell Terry I'll be in touch. If nothing else, I'll collect the two of them and take them to Ipswich."

She rang off and called another number from memory.

"Trudy? How are you keeping – enjoying retirement?"

Anyone listening to Jessica's end of the conversation would have heard only the indistinct squawking of the handset in response to Jessica's words...

"Yes, I know, Trudy..." (squawk, squawk) "as it happens, I think I might have something that might interest you..." (squawk) "It seems the wife of the friend of a friend is experiencing flashbacks to childhood abuse..." (squawk, squawk, squawk) "No, I don't suppose there'll be much money in it, but between us I think we can cover any expenses." (squawk) "I'll bring her over after lunch?" (squawk, squawk) "Husband as well? For lunch? Okay. See you later, Trudy."

Terry, Anh held curled up in his lap, was relieved to get a call from Jessica;

"Terry Knight? My name's Jessica Yeomans. I'm sort of ... stepmother ... to Jenni. She rang me about your wife. I'll be bringing Marty and Jenni to Mistley - they'll do the passage to Maldon and I'll take you and Annie to a friend's house near Colchester. Trudy's retired now; she's got idiosyncratic methods, but she's probably one of the most successful therapists in childhood abuse ... certainly in this area, possibly in the country. She wants to talk to you both over lunch, then if it's mutually agreeable, you will live with her until she's satisfied the situation is at least under control. Knowing her, that won't be until she's got to the root of the problem. Obviously, though, the two of you would have to consent to her treatment. If you would pack your things ... it would be best not to leave anything important on board Emily Jane."

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