Blood Wild - Sex Stories

Blood Wild

... hadn’t though, she was going to have to tell him herself. He was old enough now and he had a right to know the truth. Her son was a young man.

Annie climbed the steps and set down the paper bags she was carrying then turned and sat on the top step next to her son. She didn’t touch him, but only sat close to him. He didn’t say anything for a while so they sat in silence. But silence wasn’t doing what needed to be done so with a deep breath to steady herself, Annie reached out and set her left hand on Tom’s right knee.

“I was going to tell you… when I thought you were old enough to understand.” Annie began without preamble.

“Did… did he know?” Tom asked in a very, very quiet voice that barely masked the pain and turmoil in his soul.

“Neither knew.” Annie answered, before going on to clarify.

“My husband and I tried for ages to get pregnant. We were so happy then… but nothing took. I don’t know if it was him or me or that together we just couldn’t conceive. It never happened. J.D. was becoming despondent…” Her voice trailed off for a moment.

“No. Not despondent. That makes it sound like he was kind hearted. I guess I learned too late that the man I fell in love with was not the same one I married. J.D. was bitter and angry, with me, with everything… with the world. That I could not bear him a child was making him angrier with each passing day.” Annie said stoically.

Tom remained silent. Nothing his mother was saying really changed anything about how he ...

... felt about J.D. but the burning question is his mind was still too hot to touch, or ask just yet. Somehow Annie sensed this, and she went on.

“We went to the Wilding one year. A fateful night that turned out to be. J.D. was mean and bitter and got drunk as fast as he could. I was miserable. I tried to keep to myself and stay away from him while he had his fun. I was sitting by myself in the shadows of the bonfire… watching the other couples, loving, laughing, having fun. I was so envious, I hurt deep inside. My heart was breaking thinking that I could have been like that. Then…” Annie narrated her tale as if in a dreamlike state at this point.

“Then, he sat down next to me. A kind man with a kind face and the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen in my life. They were alive and… well… anyway. He asked me why I was sitting all alone while so many others were dancing and having a good time. I told him of my drunken husband and how little interest he had in me and how I felt or thought. I nearly broke down and cried right there. No. That’s not true. I did break down and cry. And then, he wrapped a big strong arm around my shoulders and just held me. It was a gentle embrace and it… it meant the world to me at the time.” Annie told the story as she wrapped her own arms across her chest as if reliving the moment in her mind.

“As much as I had learned to hate the idea of alcohol, any of it at all, I drank from the cup that he gave me. It was a fruity punch drink but it had been ...