The afternoon sun was warm on her face as Christine Forest walked along the concrete sidewalk of Merriwether High School, where she had taught English for the last twenty years. Students dressed in long red graduation gowns rushed past her as she made her way across the lawn. Some were posing for pictures with proud parents, others were gathered together in small groups. Everyone was laughing and talking excitedly, looking over their diplomas and signing year books.
To Christine, this was both a happy and sad time of year. Every year, her heart was filled with the same bittersweet feelings. She would be saying goodbye to students she’d been working with almost everyday for three years. Some were going on to university, while others were just happy to have graduated. They all held a special place in her heart and she was happy for them to be moving on to the next phase of their young lives.
But her melancholy was more than just saying goodbye to her students. She thought back to her very first commencement service here, and how her world had been shattered and torn from her only a week later.
She had only graduated from teaching college in 1986, and had promptly married her college sweetheart, Matt Forest, two weeks after she received her degree. They were deeply in love and wanted to get married the year before, but her parents had convinced them to wait until they had both finished school. Matt graduated from law school, passed the bar, and accepted a job at a law firm here in Brighton. She had lucked into the teaching position here at the high school. Their lives together had seemed to be on track and a bright future lay ahead of them.
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They both wanted children, but thought it best to wait until their careers were more established. Christine loved teaching, but would have been happy to give it up to raise a family. After six months at his new job, Matt had proved himself a valuable and respected attorney, and his superiors told him he had a bright future with the firm. Their dream was to own their own home and when they had saved enough, they put a down payment on a modest little two story home and moved in a month later.
Once they were in their new home, there was only one thing missing from their happy lives. A baby. Their lovemaking had always been warm and tender, but it seemed that while trying to conceive, it became even more so. Almost as if they were trying to transfer their feelings of love for one another to the tiny life they were hoping to plant in her womb.
After several months of trying, Christine still wasn’t pregnant, but they saw no need to seek help. Not yet. They were both certain that it would happen when the time was right. They talked of fertility tests, but decided to keep trying for a while longer before they took that step.
A few more months passed and they both agreed that something may be wrong. In May, Matt went for a fertility test and Christine began watching her cycles more closely and reading books that explained when the best time for her to conceive would be.
That turned out to be the week after graduation; the Fourth of July holiday, so they planned a special weekend at home.
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They were going to lock the doors, take the phone off the hook, and spend all weekend in bed making love. She bought wine and scented candles to set the mood, and even picked out a very sheer and sexy negligee to surprise him with when he arrived home from work on Friday. It appeared that she had thought of everything for their romantic weekend.
Friday morning, Christine was awoken by the extremely wonderful sensation of his warm tongue caressing her pussy. She moaned and lifted her head from the pillow, smiling down at him sleepily.
"What a way to wake up!" she exclaimed, gasping as his tongue touched on her clit. He paused long enough to grin up at her, then dove back in, his tongue working even faster. She lay back down, lost in the beautiful sensations. Her fingers began to tease and pinch her erect nipples, intensifying the sensations her was creating.
Within moments she felt the stirrings of an orgasm and she was soon cumming hard, forcing her spasming slit tight to his mouth. She cried out and her back arched off the bed before she collapsed back to the sheets, his mouth still attached to her drooling pussy.
"P . . . please, baby! I need you inside me!" she gasped, pulling on his arms.
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Matt reluctantly released her moist and ready pussy, then kissed his way along her stomach to her breasts, where he spent a few seconds suckling each one. His hard member touched on her sensitive labia and Christine could stand no more delays. She wrapped her long legs around him and pulled his body downward, poising his cock at her opening. Their eyes met, then they kissed passionately, deeply. Slowly, he pushed into her warm hole. She gasped into his mouth as he slid into her, filling her so completely that she wanted to cry out his name and just hold him there. It was where he belonged; they were now one person, one soul.
They began a slow, gentle fuck. Their bodies moved together, each gripping the other tightly as their kiss intensified. Christine’s hands moved across his back, her fingers kneading deep into his muscles every time his cock was pushed into her. They made love like this for several minutes, but it seemed like time had stood still and nothing else mattered, or existed, except them. How could such a loving union not produce a child, she vaguely remembered thinking to herself.
Christine felt another orgasm building and she knew from her books that if she came at the same time he did, her chances of conceiving would improve. Matt had good control, and could sometimes last a long time, bringing her to orgasm as many as six or seven times before he finally erupted. But they had to be getting up for work soon and time was of the essence.
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She knew that talking dirty to him always set him off so she broke off their kiss and nuzzled his cheek, nibbling on his earlobe.
"Oh, yes, baby! Fuck me! Oh, god, you’re so hard! Go faster! Please, baby! Fuck me harder until you cum inside my hot pussy!"
Matt began to move faster as she continued whispering into his ear. Before long, she noticed his body language change and she knew he was going to cum soon. Her own orgasm was very near as well, but she wasn’t concerned about that. She knew that as soon as she felt his hot seed surging into her, she would cum. It never failed.
Sure enough, Matt’s breathing became harder and his body stiffened. Christine locked her ankles together behind him and held him all the way inside her. The second his sperm hit her sensitive vagina walls, her orgasm exploded and she gripped him tight, their trembling bodies locked together in the gray dawn light.
After holding each other for a few minutes, with his shrinking cock still trapped inside her, Christine glanced over at the clock, then kissed his cheek.
"Time to get up, sweetie," she whispered, although neither of them made a move to disentangle from their loving embrace. Eventually, Matt pulled from her dripping pussy, a small puddle of cum drooling to the sheets. Christine raised her legs, trying to prevent any more from dripping out.
Matt grinned down at her, lying naked on the bed with her legs raised to her chest, her pussy drooling their mixed cum over her tiny little puckered rosebud.
"I don’t really think that’s going to make a difference," he said.
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His grin widened as he bent over to get a better look. "But I sure am enjoying the view!"
She threw a pillow at him and giggled. "Maybe not, but humor me, ok? You go take your shower. You’re going to be late. "
He laughed and tossed the pillow back at her, took one final look, and went into the bathroom.
By the time he came down to the kitchen, she was sitting at the table wearing her faded pink robe and sipping on a cup of coffee. She’d had that robe back in college and refused to part with it, even though it was becoming frayed and thin.
"So what time do you expect to be home?" she asked, taking another sip while he poured himself one to go.
"As soon as humanly possible," he replied, snapping the lid on his travel mug and turning to her. He came over and kissed her, then picked up his briefcase. "Hope to be home by four-thirty. Five at the latest. "
"I can’t wait," she replied with a seductive smile and wink. "I love you. "
He opened the door and turned back to her.
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"Forever and always, honey. " Then he was gone.
That was his usual response when she told him she loved him. He rarely ever said it back, which at first had irked her to no end. But over time, she’d become used to it and understood it was just his way of telling her he loved her too. She took another sip of her coffee, confident that this weekend their love would produce a child.
At three o’clock, she took a bath, then put on her slinky lingerie. She wanted to greet him in it when he came in the door. She paused to examine herself in the mirror before slipping into it, rubbing her belly and thinking how much pregnancy would change her slender body. She thought back to last night, and their passionate and fevered lovemaking. He had taken her again and again, until they were both too exhausted to do more than hold each other’s naked, sweaty bodies and fall asleep.
And morning sex was almost becoming as regular as night sex. She couldn’t believe that after three years together and over a year of marriage that they still behaved like a couple of sex crazed teenagers. She couldn’t imagine ever losing her desire for his body. She wondered if she may already be pregnant, a smile forming on her lips as she thought of the tiny life that may be growing inside right now.
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She slipped into her sexy negligee and pulled the equally sheer red robe over it. After one last inspection in the mirror, she made her way downstairs and sat on the couch to wait for her husband. At five-fifteen she began to wonder why he was late. By five-thirty she was starting to get a little angry. It wasn’t like him not to call when he was going to be this late.
The clock was approaching six and her anger was turning to fear. Could something have happened? She moved the curtain aside and peered out the front window. The rain that had been threatening all day had started and she could picture him huddled on the side of the road changing a flat tire.
She was about to pick up the phone and try his office when a dark blue Ford sedan pulled into their driveway. She tried to see who it was, but the rain-streaked glass made making out details impossible. She realized that all she had on was practically see-through lingerie and dashed up the stairs to put on her faded old robe. She was just about to start back downstairs when the front doorbell rang.
Clutching the robe to her neck, she cautiously opened the door a crack, leaving the safety chain in place. Two people she didn’t recognize, a man and a woman, were standing on the front step, trying to keep under the narrow overhang to avoid the rain.
"Yes?" she asked through the crack of the door.
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The man reached into his jacket pocket and showed her a badge.
"Mrs Forest?" She nodded, her heart jumping into her throat. Why were the police here? "Mrs Christine Forest?" Again she nodded.
"I’m Inspector Davis, and this is my colleague, Molly Anson. Is your husband Matt Forest?" Another nod. "May we come inside for a moment?" He hunched his shoulders to prevent the rain from getting into his coat, his eyes never leaving hers. Christine glanced over at the woman, whose face had an sorrowful expression.
"Uh, of course. Just a moment. " She closed the door and undid the chain, her hands shaking and her heart pounding, then pulled it open to allow them into the foyer. They shook the rain from their coats and looked around. They were obviously uncomfortable about something, which caused her even more concern.
"What’s . . .
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what’s going on?" she asked them, her voice cracking. "Is it Matt? Has something happened to my husband?"
The two exchanged a look, then Davis looked into the living room. "Maybe we better sit down, Mrs Forest. " He fixed her with a firm stare and she shakily led them into the living room. Davis sat in
the easy chair, perching on the edge like he wanted to make a bolt for the front door, and clasped his hands together. The woman, Molly, she thought he had said, sat down on the couch next to her.
"Uh, Mrs Forest, I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but your husband’s been involved in a traffic accident. " While he was speaking, his eyes never left hers and he paused while she gasped and brought a hand to her mouth.
"Oh, no! Is . . . is he ok? Is he in the hospital? We have to go! I need to be with him . . . " She started to get up, but Molly touched her arm and shook her head, a sad smile on her face.
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Numb with fear and shock, she slowly sat back down. Davis continued to stare at her, then lowered his head before looking back up.
"Someone ran a red light and . . . and hit your husband’s car on the driver’s side. " Christine tried to swallow the large lump that was forming in her throat. It was becoming difficult to breathe. "I’m afraid he . . . he didn’t make it, ma’am. I’m very sorry. "
Christine stared at him. No, it couldn’t be happening.
There must be some mistake. She felt a hand on her arm and instinctively jerked it away before turning to look at Molly.
"Mrs Forest," she began, her eyes soft and understanding. "Christine. May I call you Christine?"
Christine didn’t reply, her brain barely registering what she was saying. She continued. "I’m a grief counselor with the police department and I’m here to help in . . . "
Christine suddenly leapt to her feet. "No! No! It can’t be! He was coming home early! We . . . we were going to . .
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. " The volume of her voice slowly diminished as her eyes moved from one to the other. Both of their faces held a mixture of unease and pity, although neither met her eyes. What they were telling her finally sunk in and she felt everything start to spin, then go dark.
Several hours later, she lay in her bed - her and Matt’s bed - in a state of shock and drug induced calmness. Paramedics had been called after she’d fainted and her doctor called in a prescription for a strong sedative to help her sleep. Her mother came over to stay with her and she was asleep in the guest bedroom across the hall.
She rolled over and faced the window, looking across his unused side of the bed. She had cried so much that she had no more tears. He was gone. Just like that. He was gone and her life was pretty much over. How could she go on without him? He was her life. Without him, she didn’t want to live.
Her hand went to her belly.
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Was there life inside of her? A tiny part of him that she could treasure and love? She wanted so much to believe she was pregnant with his child. It would give her something to cling to. A reason to go on.
The pills were working well and she was soon asleep, although somewhat fitfully. Images came to her in her dreams. Images of Matt’s car being slammed into as he crossed the intersection; him calling for her, reaching out for her.
She awoke suddenly, sensing a presence in her room.
"M . . . Mom? Is that you," she called softly.
There was no reply. Slowly, she turned her head toward the door. From the light that spilled in through the partially open curtain she could see that it was closed tightly. Her mother had left it open a crack so she could hear if Christine called out for her in the night.
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When did she close it?
Then a faint movement next to the closet caught her eye and she turned to it, but saw nothing. A pang of fear began to grow in her stomach. Was she hallucinating from the drugs? Or was her imagination working overtime? She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then slowly opened them again. She turned back toward where she had thought she’d seen movement, and froze, a scream stuck in her throat.
There, standing perfectly still next to the closet door, was Matt. He was watching her, his eyes fixed on hers, and a look of deep sorrow on his face. Her hand flew to her mouth as a chill ran through her entire body. She wanted to close her eyes; make this vision go away. But she couldn’t. He was here, even if it was only a manifestation of her troubled mind.
"Matt," she whispered, her voice choking as she reached out a hand to him.
He began moving closer, but his movements were strange. He was walking; she could see his legs moving. But it was like he was walking on a moving sidewalk; half gliding. He stopped a few feet from the bed, so close that she could see the tear running down his face.
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Then he sat on the edge of their bed and touched her cheek.
She knew this couldn’t be happening. It had to be a dream. He was dead. Killed hours earlier.
But he was here. She could feel the gentle caress of his warm hand on her cheek. She closed her eyes, wanting to believe that he wasn’t really gone. Perhaps that had been the dream; or rather, the nightmare, and he was here with her, about to make love to her like they had planned.
Matt," she repeated, as if the sound of his name would make it real. When she opened her eyes again, he was still sitting beside her, but now he was naked. How did he do that without moving the bed? She really didn’t care. She spread her arms and welcomed him into their bed, his lips meeting hers in a tender, loving kiss. His body enveloped her, making her feel safe and loved; erasing all the terrible events of the night with just one kiss.
They kissed for a long time, then he moved lower, pushing her nightgown up over her tits and suckling each one in the way he knew she liked.
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He continued down, kissing across her stomach as she removed her nightgown and tossed it aside. When he reached her panties, he kissed her pussy over them, then slowly began to lower them. Christine raised her hips so he could completely remove them, leaving her naked on the bed. He lowered his mouth to her waiting pussy and began to tease and lick it, bringing instant gasps of pleasure from her. His tongue swirled inside her, touching her most sensitive areas and flicking gently across her engorged clit.
When she was almost ready to cum, he ceased licking her and slid back up, taking her mouth again. She responded by shoving her tongue deep into his throat as she felt his cock slipping along her wet labia. She raised her hips, urging him to penetrate her. He did, slipping into her as easily as he always had; his hardness spreading her slick pussy and bringing her even closer to the orgasm lurking just under the surface. There was no question in her mind that whatever was happening, this was her husband.
"Oh, Matt," she whispered, putting her arms around his neck and holding him tight. "I thought I’d lost you, baby. "
He began to pump in and out of her, their bodies locked together in a passionate dance. As their love-making became more intense, Christine began to feel herself slipping over the edge. First, a small orgasm, then a more intense one.
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Matt seemed to be touching areas he hadn’t ever touched before, and the feeling was incredible! When he began pounding harder, she began to experience more substantial orgasms, until finally she felt his seed filling her and she couldn’t keep herself from crying out as she experienced the most intense one yet.
"Oh, Matt! Yes!"
Suddenly, he stopped moving and peered into her eyes.
"I love you, Christine," he said. She heard his voice, but it was like it came from inside her own head. He smiled and caressed her cheek. "Forever and always. "
Christine heard a thump from guest room. "Christine?" her mother’s voice called out. "Are you all right?"
She looked back to Matt, but his image was fading. She could feel his body getting lighter, his cock slowly shrinking inside her.
"No!" she cried, stifling a sob. "Don’t leave me! Please, Matt, no!"
His eyes smiled sorrowfully at her. "Forever and always," she heard in her head once more, and then he was gone.
Christine came back to the present and watched the graduating students continue with their celebration. She walked among them, talking to a few and posing for some pictures.
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She almost didn’t see the tall, blonde boy wearing the valedictorian’s medallion until he was almost on top of her.
She turned around and smiled broadly at him, then they hugged warmly. "You did it, Matthew!" she exclaimed, pulling apart. "I’m so proud of you!"
He grinned down at her, his crooked grin and blue eyes so much like his father’s it was spooky. "Aw, Mom," he said.
Just then, a dark haired man and a blonde girl of about eight came toward them.
"Mommy! Matthew!" she cried, running over throwing her arms around Christine’s waist.
"Hey, Jessica," she said, hugging her daughter back. The man approached and kissed her lightly.
"Nice ceremony," he said, his brown eyes sparkling. Then he turned to Matthew. "I’m very proud of you, son!"
"Thanks, dad," Matthew replied, giving him a hug.
"Can we go now?" Jessica asked impatiently.
Christine laughed and put an arm around her and the other around her husband. "Yes, Jess, we can go now," she replied.
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As they walked across the lawn to their car, Christine thought she heard a familiar voice in her head.
"You did good, baby. I love you. "
She lifted her eyes to the brilliantly blue sky. "Forever and always," she whispered, a smile crossing her lips.
.
