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Copyright© 2012 by oyster50

Chapter 65

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 65 - The ongoing adventures of Cindy, Tina, Nikki and Susan as the odd group of intelligent young ladies tackle college, family, friends and life with love and good humor. If you haven't read "Cindy", "Christina" and "Nikki", you're going to be lost on a lot of what's happening here. Do yourself a favor and back up and read those stories first.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Geeks  

Dan Richards's turn:

Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! Four weeks after Donna showed back up, we finally got Cindy back to her normal chipper self. A sober mom was something she prayed for, but when Donna showed up sober and apparently working on a turnaround of her life, it tossed my angel into a tailspin. And Cindy KNOWS tailspins

Over a period of a couple of weeks, Donna convinced us all of her sincerity. 'Convinced'? Make that almost 'charmed'.

Donna showed up well-dressed, well-mannered, remorseful. Took Cindy in her arms, wept an apology, repeated her story to others. Life-changing event. Near-death experience. Repentance. And return.

If there were ever a story of a modern-day prodigal son, this was it, except the son was actually the mother of a spectacular young lady who happened to be my wife and a fine young engineer and a person who held a status at a major university as a source of unlimited potential.

And that young lady was messed up. She talked to me. Of course she talked to me. I'm her husband by some happy twist of fate, for which I daily offer prayers of thanksgiving. We talked at length.

"Of course you love your mother, Cindy," I said. "It's natural. Woven into our beings."

"I said I forgave her. Why don't I believe her?"

"Forgiveness doesn't necessarily obligate you to believe."

"Hope?"

"Of course we hope, little one," I said, holding my Cindy close, kissing her gently because sometimes she just seems so fragile, almost ethereal. "I know you've prayed for your mom many times. Accept this as part of the answer. It may not be all of it."

"What do you mean, my love," she asked.

"Baby, we hope for the best but plan for the worst in all that we do. The worst? This, right now, clean, happy Donna, your mom, this is what you get. For now. Worst case, she backslides. But you HAD, for a shining moment, you HAD your mom. Best case? She takes what she is now, steps up on the ladder, and is around for decades to see HER daughter the way WE see her daughter and we all get the happiness of having Cindy's mom as part of our big, mushy family." I kissed her because she's right here, close enough to kiss, and she's beautiful and vulnerable and she needs kissing.

"Middle case? She tries. Really tries. But she stumbles. Once. Twice. A bunch of times, but she comes back, trying, each time. That's the hardest, little one. If she turned her back right now and reverted to the old ways, we could do like we've been doing – pray, hope, keep in touch – but go on with our lives."

"If she goes all the way with the change, we have a happy addition to our family and we're, you, me, your mom, are all better for it. But if she keeps trying and keeps slipping, then we may have some painful times. We have to assess each time if she's serious, and we help her, or she's not..."

"I thought about that, Dan. That would be soooo hard. I guess it was easier when she was off on the other side of the country, out of sight, doing Lord knows what, but we didn't have to think about it because it was Mom doing her thing. Now we have to help her. Try. Maybe watch her fail, then try again. I'll need you more than ever, Dan."

"You got me, baby. Remember, 'for better or worse'? We meant it. Forever."

She snuggled into me for the millionth time since a stormy night long ago in a trailer park. "Mmmm."

"Yes. And we love each other and hold on to each other no matter what."

"Love," she said softly. "You. You love me."

"Always did. Before the beginning of time, I was created with a space in my heart that only Cindy would ever fill."

Her cuddle took a turn as she molded herself against me, lined up for kissing if I rolled over just a little bit.

I rolled. Kissed her. She was still tearful at first.

"We don't have to do this, baby," I said. "Really."

"Daniel Richards, you are my rock and the source of my life. We DO need to do this." She punctuated her statement with a searing kiss, like she was drawing strength from me.

I cradled that red head, kissing back, then went for her neck, right behind that pink ear. I felt the ends of her hair brushing my face, smelled sweet tendrils of a happy little fragrance we both liked. When I got to her neck, she deconstructed into happy wiggles and giggles and pure young female pulchritude.

"Ahhhhh, Daniel," she sighed. My whole first name. A sign of happiness. A hand moved from its place on my chest, heading to...

My turn to sigh. When I did, she giggled. "I never tire of this, baby. Just like the first time. So exciting. So wonderful." She kissed me with the giggle still on her face, then her head disappeared under the sheets. The next sigh from me was bigger. I noted that instead of sliding straight down in the bed, she twisted, putting...

Oh, I love sixty-nine. Poems need to be written. Cindy's a feather on top of me, with magic at both ends. Soon she's shuddering and shivering through an orgasm and I've been sucked halfway to one myself.

She twists around for a sticky kiss. Giggle. "Am I still delicious?"

"Oh, yeah." I let HER kiss me again, her juices all over my face. She kisses all over my face. Giggle. "Yes, I am."

Another thing she is – primed. I watch for a sign. After the previous conversation, maybe she wants me on top, possessing her. I feel her hand push me onto my back. No. I guess not.

She wants to ride. I'm good with it. She's in control. She knows her second orgasm is there, all she has to do is get it. For her that means sliding back and forth, rubbing her nubbin of a clit on the base of my dick.

For me, I have to add a little vertical motion and I'm doing my best not to just spurt right now. No, Dan, watch her face. There it is. Her eyes squinch closed. She's biting her bottom lip. Right on the edge. Her mouth opens ... Go for it, Dan.

I do two more thrusts and let loose. I know she felt it. She rose a bit then came back down, working more out of me, then a little circle of her hips for herself. Another, and then she was in my arms. I felt warm viscous fluid sliding from her.

"Mmmmm, baby," she said. "I feel better now."

I kissed the top of her bronze-tressed head. Marvelous, that red hair of hers. In dim light, it fades to lovely, lively brown. Lit by the bedside light, like tonight, it's like aged copper. In full sunlight, it's red, not quite the fireball red of Stoney's Johanna, but still what people mean when they say 'red-head'. I think it's beautiful.

"Mmmm," was her response. She wiggled into my chest, reminding me of a big cat preparing his bed for sleep. "Love me always, Dan. Even with my whacked-out mom."

"Always, my pixie."

Little giggle. "My pixie-ship status is in question, baby. Terri 'n' Rachel. Somebody at the engineering department called them 'pixies'. I used to be the pixie."

"You will always be my pixie."

"I wanna be. When I'm forty and my titties are starting to sag..."

We've had this conversation before. "I'll be sixty and I will appreciate your ol' saggy titties if you'll appreciate my wrinkly old..."

Smile. "You know I will. We said 'forever', babe."

So things were good when we went to sleep.

On the other side of the apartment, Donna was back in the spare bedroom. Sleeping.

Saturday morning I felt Cindy stir. Cindy. Then where's the smell of bacon coming from?

We both got up, put on robes, something that was a concession to having company, went into the kitchen.

Donna. At the stove.

"I hope y'all don't mind me fixin' breakfast. I can still cook."

"Moo-oommmmm," Cindy said, "You don't have to do that..."

"Kids... " she said.

Okay, Cindy's her daughter. Definitely in 'kid' range. Me, though, I'm a couple of years OLDER than Donna.

"Kid?" I laughed. "I'm a kid?"

"You're my son-in-law. Makes you a kid, right?" Donna laughed.

"She's got you, baby," Cindy said. "Good morning, Mom. I see your mind's good."

"I hope so. I know I had a few drinks, but I think one of those bozos put something in one."

"Forget that, Mom," Cindy said. "And thank you for breakfast. Orange juice?"

"I'll do the coffee," I said.

"You'd better. That coffee-maker of yours looks like it came out of a lab somewhere."

Okay ... If there's an abnormality in the Community, a good case could be made for coffee-snobbery. I ground the beans for today's brewing and loaded the drip coffeemaker. In a minute, it was dripping dark brown nectar into a thermal carafe.

The three of us sat at the breakfast nook's table.

"How do you feel this morning, Mom," Cindy asked.

"A bit hung over. Kind of fuzzy in the head, you know." She paused, surveying us. "Maybe you don't know. Cindy – you – I dearly hope you don't know."

"You're right, Mom. Dan has a beer or two every now and then. I've tasted it. But that's it. Got offered some pot a bunch of times at the park, but I never did."

"Good," Donna said. "I never wanted my daughter to..." She paused. "Shit, Dan! I didn't want my daughter doin' this crap and then I go ahead and do it myself. If that isn't stupid, what is?"

"Look, Donna," I said, "Kids do things. I did. Cindy knows about 'em. But most kids figure out that those things are bad choices."

"Choices. I've made some doozies." She looked at Cindy, sitting there, watching her mom. "Cindy was the result of one of them. Best outcome of any of 'em. Cindy baby, I do love you. You need to know that."

"I believe you, Mom," Cindy said.

"Look, baby," Donna said. "I realize that me showing up here was a shock. I know you were confused about it."

"Mom..."

"No, baby, I understand. I know what I was. I know what it looked like when I showed up. If I was in your shoes, I'd be confused. Baby, I'd have questions. It was a huge change, and if I'd seen it from the outside, I would ask questions. I know what the difference was. And I saw you start to accept it, even when I moved out." Donna paused. "You know I had to move out. But you looked like you were actually kinda proud of me."

"I was, Mom. Really."

"And I went and fucked it up. I'm sorry. I stopped using that word. It's nasty to me, but that's how nasty I felt when I saw Bill in that bar last night. Nasty. It's like I saw 'im, and somebody turned a spotlight on me and said, 'Really, Donna? This is how you want to be again?' And you know, baby? I didn't want to be like that. Not again."

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