Message-ID: <24532asstr$960304291@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: VBwrites@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: Subject: {ASSM} Paternity (8/10) (Virago Blue)(MF, orgy, mf, oral, Rom) Date: Tue, 6 Jun 2000 11:11:31 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw, apuleius, IceAltar <1st attachment, "Paternity~8.txt" begin> * * * Continued from Part 7 * * * Thirty minutes later Parker knocked on my door, just as I was putting the finishing touches on a pasta salad and fresh fruit. I grabbed a dishtowel, wiping my hands as I opened my door to him. He was turned away from me for the briefest second. In that second I realized I felt attracted to him again. His profile was virile and strong and when he turned to smile at me I felt a tug at my heart. He pushed a hand through his short hair before stepping into my home. "You're dressed up today," Parker commented. I shrugged, looking down at my cream-colored skirt and peach silk blouse. "I dress like this all the time." I winked at him. "Where's your sling? Shouldn't you be wearing it still?" "I'll put it on in a minute." I started to set the table. Parker came up behind me in my small kitchen. "Nuh uh, lady, let me do that." Parker nudged me aside and grabbed some dishes and silverware. I was embarrassed for him to see my sparse utensils. He dug around the drawer, passing up a Batman crazy straw, plastic forks and spoons to finally find two matching forks. "Do you want the jet fighter spoon or can I use it?" He laughed. I laughed with him. "I used it this morning. It's your turn." We both giggled as he set the table, placing the salad and plate of fruit in the center of my small dining table. I opened the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of ice tea. He took it from me with a frown. "Sit down and tell me where that sling is." I smiled and sat down. My arm was hurting but I was trying to hold off on taking any of the pain medication since it made me groggy. "In my bedroom on my dresser." Parker pointed at an open door off the living room. I nodded. He knelt in front of me with the sling, carefully lifting it over my head and settling it on my shoulders. His hand ran up the back of my neck, pushing my hair back over the neck band of the sling. Carefully he slid my arm into the sling. I took the opportunity to study him once again. His brow was slightly creased, with concern or worry. I resisted the urge to run my fingers over his tanned skin. His lashes were long and dark, veiling his blue eyes from me. His eyes took me in slowly before drifting back up to my face. I blushed. He smiled thinly, as if to apologize for being caught examining me. "Thank you," I said. We talked through lunch. I told him of my experience that morning with Lance. He told me a few stories of his own about Lance. I realized that maybe I was treated better than most while in Lance's domain but my fears regarding Lance's paternity increased threefold. How could I possibly bring that bastard into my son's life? If . . . Parker cleared the table, rinsing the dishes off in the sink. He turned to look at me. I looked back expectantly. His look worried me. "Torie, I wanted to tell you something. It's about Blake." I took a deep breath, feeling the muscles in my belly and chest constrict. "What happened?" "His family has decided to take him off of life support sometimes this evening. I'm going to be there. I thought that if you wanted to see Blake, today would be your last time. His brain stopped functioning a long time ago. They were still holding out for a miracle. It's too late for that." Parker sat down next to me, rubbing my back. I should be the one comforting him. "Now? Can I go up there now?" I asked through my quickly forming tears. "I'll take you. C'mon." Parker stood, reaching for my hand. I had conditioned myself to expect the worst before walking into Blake's hospital room. I didn't prepare myself enough for the sight that faced me. It was hard, so hard, to see him lying there. He didn't even remotely resemble the man I knew. I approached his bed slowly, my eyes trying to find something on his body that told me it was Blake. His face was virtually unrecognizable. His beautiful brown eyes were forever swollen shut, the skin on one side burned and scraped from his ordeal during the accident. A bandage covered most of his skull. I closed my eyes and sat down, reaching for his hand, the only thing on the man that wasn't marred by violent death. I cradled his hand in my hands, caressing each finger. I ran my hand up his arm, now limp with impending death, and remembered how strong those arms used to be. I slid my fingers lightly up the muscle of his bicep, marveling at how perfect this part of him remained. I pushed back the sleeve of his hospital gown and smiled. There on his shoulder was the tattoo of the Tasmanian Devil. I remember when he was inked, all of sixteen years old. He was so proud of his tattoo, showing it off at school. All the kids were impressed. Taz could have been his nickname, the way he whirled into our lives. I touched the tattoo and smiled, also remembering how much trouble he got into when his mother found out. I kissed the back of his hand, not wanting to break away. Tears ran down my face as I rocked with him, murmuring against his hand, "I'm so sorry. So sorry." I cried for Blake, I cried for his family and I cried for myself. But mostly I cried for Scotty, if this man was indeed his father. "I should have said something years ago. It's all my fault. This would never have happened if I had only spoken up . . . " I continued to cry against him, stopped only by a warm hand on my shoulder. I turned to look into the same brown eyes of Blake in the face of an elderly woman, his mother. I was stunned. I didn't know what to say to this woman who had lost her own son. I felt her pain but only partially. How could I possibly understand how she felt? I stood and walked into her open arms and we cried. We cried for a long time, just holding on to each other. Blake was pronounced dead at 7:12 pm that night. Two days later I was at his funeral crying as I watched Parker stoically carry his best friend's coffin to the family burial plot. I watched him brush a tear from his face, wanting to enfold him in my arms and comfort him. Maybe later, I told myself. Let him alone for now. The next day I called the lab. Blake's family had arranged for the saliva sample and blood test to be taken from Blake the day he died. Parker had also shown up. Lance had not. I waited until later that evening to call Lance at his home. Fortunately Lance answered the phone. I honestly don't know what I would have done if anyone else had picked up the phone at that moment, I only wanted Lance to understand how serious I felt about this issue. My voice on the other end of the line shocked him into submitting to my request, but not without a healthy dose of name-calling. I really couldn't afford an attorney and that was the only way I could think to get him moving. Lance showed up at the lab the next morning. Now all we had to do was wait for the results. Six weeks was a very long time. During the next few weeks Parker and I visited each other regularly. I was a little tentative about Scotty getting to know Parker but in the end my worries were unfounded. Parker and Scotty got along like buddies. Their relationship was different than any other I've ever witnessed with Scotty. Parker didn't act like a father-figure or even as an adult with a role of authority. He acted more like a big brother, a big brother that could show Scotty new things, introduce him to new boy-related activities. I could see immediately how impressed Scotty was in Parker's presence. I also couldn't help but notice how Parker enjoyed every minute of his time spent with my son. Three years earlier Parker had built a house about forty minutes outside of town. The two-story house with its dormer windows and multi-gabled roof sat on several acres of land, all of it surrounded by a white fence. He kept a few horses, mostly for other people since he didn't have much time for riding himself. He also added a pond stocked with fish. This pond was a constant source of wonder for Scotty. He found that he loved to sit and fish, sometimes for longer than an hour. Keeping Scotty still for an hour was a great accomplishment. Parker showed him how to bait a hook and cast his rod far into the center of the pond. Scotty's forehead would crease in concentration as he watched the bright orange and white float bob in the water, eager for a bite. I'll never forget the moment he caught his first fish. Parker helped him reel it in, cheering him on the whole time. Scotty was squealing with excitement. Parker was too, nearly. Scotty hugged Parker around his neck at that point. I hugged them both. We were almost a happy family. Later that night, after Scotty fell asleep in the big recliner Parker kept in front of the fireplace. Parker and I stepped outside to the deck to enjoy the evening. I could still see Scotty sleeping contentedly in the chair as I rocked slowly in the swing, sipping the good wine Parker just poured for me. "What are you feeling right now, Torie?" Parker asked. He settled himself in the swing next to me. I turned and met his eyes. He corrected the motion of the swing, his eyes never leaving mine. "I'm feeling happy for once, you know, not worried for a change. That's been a long time coming." I took a sip of the cabernet. "I know it will change soon." Parker nodded. He turned to look out over his backyard. A horse whinnied in the darkness. "Scotty is such a great kid. You've done a remarkable job with him, Tor. I can't help but wonder how you handled it all, being alone all those years. It had to be tough." He reached across the short distance between us and held my hand. Lightly I squeezed his finger, slowly rubbing my thumb back and forth over his hand. "Fear kept me motivated. And love. Nothing was going to take my child from me, once I got used to the idea I was going to become a mother." A tear rolled down my cheek followed by another and then another. Parker watched me for a moment before placing his wine glass on a side table. He pulled me into the crook of his arm and held me. "Now what are you feeling? You can tell me." I continued to cry quietly, not sure how to begin. "I've started to realize how selfish I've been. Seven, eight years is such a long time to do this alone. I didn't have to. And the worst part of it is I deprived someone of the feeling of being a father." At this point I couldn't continue. Those thoughts had been plaguing me these last few weeks, especially when I watched Parker and my son interact. How different things could have been if only I had taken the initiative and found his daddy early on. "Scotty is thriving under the attention you've been giving him..." "Torie, come on, you've done a wonderful job with him. Don't kick yourself about the decisions you've made." "What about Blake? What if he had known? Would he have been so reckless? He might be fishing with Scotty. I can't help but wonder if I could have indirectly prevented that accident." "How?" "By facing this a long time ago. People change when they become parents. If Blake is the father, if he would have known he was the father, he might not have taken the chances he did with his life." Parker grew silent. "What about Lance?" I huffed sarcastically. "I honestly don't know about Lance. Maybe he would be a better person. I can't help but think he married that woman to be closer to her trust fund. But then that sounds like sour grapes. I really don't know what happened to Lance." "He's always been a little self-centered." Parker kept rubbing his hand up and down my arm. I leaned in closer to his chest, laying my head down on the warm expanse of him. "Lance knew what he was doing when he became involved with Christy." My hair drifted across my face. Parker had pulled the elastic band holding my hair up in a pony tail. Now it hung wild and messy around my head. "What about you?" I asked. "We would have been married, raising Scotty together. No question in my mind." Parker said, matter-of- factly. A fresh crop of tears streamed down my face. Parker lifted my chin and stared into my eyes. He wiped at the tears with his other hand, stopping to kiss me softly on the lips. I felt a current surge through me, at the moment his lips had touched mine. He leaned in to kiss me again, this time with more urgency. I kissed him back, so wantonly, our tongues mingling and fighting each other. I felt the familiar pull deep down between my legs. I wanted this man. He pulled me in closer, dipping me farther back against the swing until he was nearly on top of me. My hands explored his shoulders, neck and the nape of his hair, a spot I found to be so sexy. I dug my fingers into his scalp, scratching lightly as we kissed. I felt him nudge against me, his erection apparent. * * * Continued to Part 9 * * * ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ This post has been reformatted by ASSTR's Smart Text Enhancement Processor (STEP) system due to inadequate formatting. ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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