Blood Wild - Sex Stories

Blood Wild

... made a trip to her doctor. The news was startling. She, Annie, was pregnant. J.D. was beside himself with joy. It was almost as if he had changed back to that kind younger man that had first won Annie’s heart. The pregnancy would be the last time she was happy for a long, long time.

She had a baby boy. A strapping blue-eyed, dark-haired baby boy. The questions began as soon as the baby opened his eyes and the blue was apparent. J.D. had brown eyes, his parents had brown eyes, his siblings had brown eyes. J.D. had blonde hair, his whole family had blonde hair. Annie herself had blonde hair and brown eyes. So, how did this baby boy have black hair and blue eyes?

Poor Tom, he never understood why his father hated him. He didn’t know that J.D. suspected that Tom was not really his son. The cruelty and harshness just seemed to grow with each passing year. Each year as the boy grew bigger and stronger and matured into a man, he looked more and more like his real father. Duke. To his credit, J.D. never asked Annie outright if the boy was his own. Instead, he just grew more and more bitter and hateful.

It was thoughts of this that went through Annie’s mind as she looked out the kitchen window over the sink that afternoon. The boy’s eighteenth birthday was just days away. He would legally be a man then. He could choose what to do with his life. Annie suspected that He would be leaving the farm, leaving the hatred and bitterness that J.D. heaped upon him at every turn. He ...

... would be leaving her as well though, and that would hurt worse than anything she had ever had to deal with. It broke her heart.

***___***___

Caroline hurried the last few steps through the rain to the workshop and pushed the door open to enter. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the low lighting inside the workshop. It was puzzling to Caroline because usually the shop was well lit. Today, however, it was only lit by a small lamp on a work bench near the back wall of the room.

As she pushed the door closed again, Caroline surveyed the room. This workshop, his workshop, where Duke shined and worked magic in wood and varnish creating furniture. All his creations were handmade and unique. He could make something out of raw lumber with just the skill and his imagination. Or, he could duplicate a piece so closely it would look like it was the original rather than a copy. Many customers sought him out to replace broken pieces of family heirlooms or heritage pieces.

The cabinetry was honest work and it paid well enough that they existed comfortably at least. Duke was always at his happiest when he was engrossed in his work… so Caroline took pause when she saw her husband sitting slumped over on a work stool, his arms crossed on top of the bench and his head laying down on them. A handsbreadth away, in front of him on the bench, was a mason jar, still closed with the lid and ring. It was half full of a clear liquid. Caroline knew full well it was alcohol of some ...