Chapter 4

It was a needle-sharp elbow that woke me a bit after dawn. I was half-turned toward Betty on my right, but on my left, half behind me was a small, active little girl who, though asleep, was moving around restlessly. I lay back and gathered her to me so I had Betty half on me on one side and Sally snuggled in to my left; she calmed and settled down almost immediately. It was beginning to get light, but I knew it was too early to get up. Besides, I had no wish to and shortly after I was asleep again.

I woke again much later and was alone; the room bright with sunlight. I felt ... almost normal. Normal, that is, but lethargic and unwilling to get up. I had to move just because I had a full bladder, but after staggering to and from the bathroom I was happy to lay down again but with a clean mouth and an empty bladder. I turned on the radio. I'm not too fond of popular music, but the local station played a mixture of older stuff I quite liked, jazz, classical and easy listening. More to the point, there was an hourly news bulletin. As I lay there I was informed (as a part of the news bulletin) that a paroled prisoner had been returned to jail after breaching his parole conditions, pending trial for offences committed since his release. I sighed, relaxed and closed my eyes. I don't think I went back to sleep, but it's hard to tell. I was aware when Betty came back into the room, hung a blanket over the curtain track to cut down the light, and slipped into bed with me.

"Hey, pretty lady."

"Oh ... you're not asleep, Jamie. That's good. I'm going back to work tonight, so I want a few hours sleep first. I'll sleep a lot better if we make love. Or rather," she pressed on my chest as I tried to sit up, "I will make love to you. I don't think I'll oversleep, but Sally needs collecting from school at three fifteen."

Her breasts rubbed against me as she moved to kiss me and oh, they felt good. My cock was on the way up before her hand began to move south, which completed the action. She straddled me and rubbed herself against my cock– I could feel her lubrication almost pouring out – until she shivered out a small orgasm. After a brief pause, she took hold and impaled herself. By the time she hit bottom, I was so stimulated I erupted, but I stayed hard ... something I hadn't experienced before. As a result, she managed a couple more much more intense orgasms before I came again. That was all I knew for a couple more hours. Waking again, I found Betty sound asleep snuggled against me. Not for the first time, though I'm no way religious, I sent a brief prayer of thanks to whatever Deity there may be for bringing us together.

I was hungry. Perhaps for the first time since the assault, I was hungry. And if Betty was going to work that evening it would have been unfair to deprive her of sleep. Hunger warred with inertia and my desire to remain holding my mate ... and won. I, very carefully, disengaged by encouraging her to roll onto her back and sliding out from under the duvet. She mumbled a little, but remained asleep.

What to eat? Something digestible and more substantial than toast. Scrambled eggs.

Much later, replete, I took my second mug of coffee and return to the bedroom. Sitting in the gloom, I could, just barely, make out her pretty face, calm in repose, as I sipped coffee. Wondered if I really ought to be drinking it and thought 'what the hell. I like it.'

I don't know how long I sat there ... long after finishing the coffee, anyway. I had to restrain myself from reaching out to stroke her cheek, eventually leaving the room to go downstairs. I spent some time looking along the bookshelves without finding a book I was interested in – I buy books, often in charity shops, read them, keep them and re-read them – then realised time was getting on and I ought to be heading towards school to collect Sally.

I haven't mentioned that I don't have a car. We live in a small city with a good bus service; in fact for any reasonably fit person there isn't much that's beyond walking distance. On that occasion, I rode the bus. Betty has a small car, but I preferred not to use it. I was there in good time and waited in the playground for the kids to emerge.

"Hello." I turned. A woman, heavily if expertly made up, perhaps a little overweight, was smiling at me. "I don't think I've seen you here before?"

"Just collecting my daughter," I told her.

"Oh?" she was looking me up and down, like a farmer at a livestock auction. "Which one is she?"

"Sally Hardcastle," I said shortly. I know women complain about men ogling them and I think I was beginning to understand why.

"She's in my daughter's class," she said. "I thought her mother was a nurse..."

"She is." Happily, just then the kids emerged and mostly made bee-lines for their parents or carers.

I saw Sally looking round for her mother (or her usual minder) until she caught sight of me and ran towards me, shouting, "Daddy, Daddy!" I can't express the feeling that gave me, intensified when she flew into my arms. I picked her up and hugged her as she wrapped her arms round my neck and kissed my cheek. "Where's Mummy?"

"She's sleeping. She's going to work tonight."

"Okay!"

She wriggled to be put down and when I did, took my hand. "We're riding the bus," I told her.

"Ooh, goody! I've never done that."

That surprised me, but I suppose Betty normally either walked or used the car. "Well, I'm glad you like the idea," I said. "I usually walk, or take the bus."

The bus, unsurprisingly, had only a few seats vacant and none with two together. I sat next to an elderly lady and Sally perched happily on my lap, chattering gaily and commenting on everything we passed, the bus following a different route to that her mother used.

I pressed the button to request the next stop and lifted Sally to stand next to me. The woman next to me touched my arm. "How lovely ... to see the obvious love between you and your daughter, and her enthusiasm and joy."

I beamed at her in pleasure. "She's a great blessing – like her mother," I said, and stood as the bus came to a stop.

When we walked in the house, I could hear the radio in the kitchen and we went that way. Betty was there, putting together an evening meal. Actually, sitting at the table scraping carrots, with various other ingredients laid out by her; a bulb of garlic, parsnip, onions and celery. She put down her peeler, but held her hands wide as Sally went to her to kiss. Sally immediately began a voluble account of coming home on the bus, during which Betty glanced at me and smiled.