Mindy’s Imaginary Friend - A Non-Erotic Story - Sex Stories

Mindy’s Imaginary Friend - A Non-Erotic Story

... glass baskets. I had read the story in the paper and knew who you were. I asked the nurse if I could hold you, but she said it was against the rules. Then she told me that you weren’t going to make it. Evidently you wouldn’t– or couldn’t– take the bottle and until they could get a court order, they couldn’t put in a stomach tube. “It won’t come through in time,” the nurse told me. Then she almost cried, “Damn regulations are going to kill her... and there’s nothing I can do about it.’ “‘Yes, there is,’ I told her. ‘Let me feed her.’ My milk had let down and I had nursed Billy once, so I knew that I could do it.” “The nurse looked around and then said, ‘Slip inside.’ So I did. Once you felt the warmth of my breast, you began seeking. I rubbed my nipple against your cheek and you turned, clamped down, and began suckling.” Her father continued the story. “We got ourselves named your foster parents until they could locate your relatives. Your father had no living relatives of record. Your mother was from a small village in Malaysia and had been cast out by her family when she married a sailor. They told the authorities that their daughter was dead and would have nothing to do with you.” He sighed, “Everyone knew that your mom had gone to the hospital to have a baby, so they thought you were our own child... a twin to Billy.” He sighed again, very deeply, “We raised you as our own and eventually formally adopted you.” “Teman is from Malaysia,” Mindy said softly. “What?!” her ...

... mother and father shouted in unison. “Teman is from Malaysia,” Mindy repeated quietly. “He has shown me his village and told me that I am a part of it. He must be from the village that my mother was from.” She walked over to her mother and took her hands. “I never stopped seeing him. He still comes to see me. I didn’t want to upset you anymore, so I started lying about him... but he still comes, and he is real.” She stood quietly looking back and forth from her father to her mother. After a very long silence she said quietly, “I love you both and you will always be my parents, but I need to find him. I think he is supposed to be a part of my life.” “But he doesn’t exist,” her father said softly. “He never has.” “Once I have the information about my birth mother,” she continued firmly. “I will look for him. I will write to her village and see if anyone knows anything about her family or who this boy might be. Someday I will go to Malaysia and find him.” Her eyes and her voice took on a tone of desperation, “Please don’t stop me, Dad,” she begged. “And Mom, if a letter comes back to me from Malaysia, please don’t keep it from me. Will you promise me that? ... Please?” Her mom’s face suddenly went very pale and her mouth fell open. “A ... letter ... from ... Malaysia,” she said slowly. She shook her head and continued in a subdued, but more normal tone of voice, “There was a letter from Malaysia in today’s mail. It was addressed to you.” She rose slowly, almost as if in a dream, and ...