When I was just over 2 years old, my father left my mother and took me with him back to England, where he was born. I never knew this until much later in life. I always thought his wife, Barbara, was my mother, although he insisted I always called her by her proper name. As I grew older, I began to realise that my father was not a nice or pleasant man. He had few friends, and we seldom had visitors, and those we had were usually people like him; abrupt, driven, money-obsessed, and consumed by the need to protect and hoard their possessions, including wives, children, everything they could buy or grab for themselves, at all costs. I was kind of the exception there. Through my formative years I knew I didn't like being around him, and avoided him as much as I could; he seemed to have the same aversion to me, and so his wife, a sweet, quiet lady, brought me up, almost in isolation from his other children, with whom I had soon discovered I had nothing in common with whatsoever, probably because they were smaller, piggier versions of him
When I was 11 years old, he decided I should attend the local secondary school instead of being tutored at home, for which I breathed a sigh of relief; being tutored with my two piggy little half-brothers was an excruciating experience, and I'd had enough of their spoilt whining and excessive demands for attention. Now at least I would be among kids my own age and could finally make some friends. I never understood why my father had forbidden us to attend primary school; I never asked, and he never volunteered an explanation, but at least now I would be free of the house and those poisonous brats he called sons.
I ambled through school, not the most gifted of students, not a slacker either, but definitely not academically brilliant. I wanted to be a mechanic; I loved cars, the thought of driving, of stripping down and rebuilding engines, transmissions, the thrill of firing up a rebuilt engine and having it turn over sweetly the first time was a recurring day-dream of mine as I laboured through calculus and trigonometry, or dissected Gray's 'Elegy In A Country Churchyard' to find the deeper meanings in it.
When my old man discovered the only class I was good at was machine shop, where I discovered I could rebuild overdrives and gearboxes almost instinctively, he literally blew a gasket. In his world mechanics were grease-monkeys, to be hired and fired at whim, and he was furious that the only effort I seemed to be making was a determined one to join the working classes; Oh yes, as well as all his other sterling qualities, my father was the worst kind of arrant snob, and the distaste I felt for him as a child soon transformed into active dislike. His other two sons were just like him, and, distant as we were, I couldn't help but try and put even more distance between us; I couldn't believe that I belonged to such an appalling family, and began to dream of running away, joining a ship and running away to sea, going off and being a vagrant, anything rather than live amongst these people and eventually come to be like them
The only saving grace was Barbara. She was the only person I had any real connection with, her warmth and kindness was a constant reminder of how little else I had from this family, and she seemed to save her best time for me, rather than her own sons, who she seemed to barely connect with at all. When I had sports days at school, she would be there, cheering for me; when we put on a production for the drama class, she'd be there with the other parents, watching raptly and clapping hardest. She was a lovely lady, and didn't deserve what my father did to her; Oh yes, I knew, I could hear, and I'd see the bruises the next day, soon figured out why she sometimes wore long sleeves on even the hottest days. I tried to get her to leave, asked her why she put up with it, but she was so thoroughly cowed all she would answer was "Where would I go, Nicky?"
I went to the local technical college when I left school at 16, to study for my BTEC Certificate in Automotive Mechanical Engineering, and City & Guilds of London Institute L6 Certificate in Automotive Engineering, and eventually qualified as an Automotive Mechanic when I was 21, much to my father's disgust. I tried to ignore what was happening at home, tried to block out the sounds at night, but it never stopped, never eased up, and I grew more disgusted with myself for doing nothing to help that poor lady who'd done so much for me.
It all came to a head one night when I couldn't take the screaming and crying any more, and barged in to see him standing over her with his belt, Barbara huddled in a corner with her hands over her head. I tried to pull him away, got a crack across the mouth for my pains, and he started on me with the belt. Barbara put herself over me, trying to shield me, my father, big man, screaming and frothing as he lashed us both until his arm was too tired to continue. That night I discovered what kind of man he truly was, as the individual cuts from the belt-buckle all merged into one big hurt that burned in every nerve-ending.
Barbara helped me to bed, rubbed ointment on the worst of the cuts and weal's, and I did the same for her. My father was nowhere to be seen, most likely guzzling 12 year old scotch in his study, and that was when she told me about my mother, why he'd left her. She had a picture of my mother, and seeing it woke ghostly half-memories of this pretty woman with dark blonde hair and golden-brown eyes like mine, smiling at me.
"Nicky, your father left your mother because she had an affair and got pregnant. I don't blame her, knowing what I do about your father. You were 3, and you belonged to him, so he took you, and came back here. He didn't want you, but he wouldn't let your mother have you, because you were his, and you know what your father's like when it comes to his...possessions"
She handed me a packet and inside was my birth certificate. I was astounded to see I was born in Albany, New York State. "I'm American?" I asked her, incredulously, and she smiled. "Yes Nicky, until you were sixteen, your father could pick your nationality; he chose to make you British, but now, if you want, you can walk into any American Embassy or Consulate in the world and walk out an American citizen, with the passport to match. I want you to go home, Nicky, you need your family, a proper family, this is no place for you, your father doesn't care one iota for you, and he'll make you suffer. Now that he's done this, he'll keep on doing it. There's some money in that packet, it's all I could scrape together, but it should be enough for you to pay for your documents, and an airline ticket to Albany. Your mother's address and her telephone number is there as well, although I don't know if it's still correct, but it was all I could find out, that and her name. Her name is Lowry, Julia Lowry. Please take it and leave, Nicky, I can't protect you, and you'll get badly hurt if you stay. Don't worry about me; I'm taking you to the train station, then I'm going to fix this once and for all, I can't take this anymore, either.
Barbara helped me pack a bag and took me to the station, and waited on the platform with me until the London train came in, then hugged me, kissed me goodbye and said "Take care of yourself, little St Nick, I love you, sweetheart. Please remember me." Her use of my childhood nickname brought a lump to my throat, and I clung to her, trying to convince her to get on the train with me, but she gently disengaged me. "No Nicky, I can't. You don't know what your father's really like; he's never let your mother go, he won't let me go! I have to fix this, once and for all! Please, go, I'll be fine, it's all going to be fine, don't you worry about me, just you take care of yourself, and please, remember me." That was the second time she'd said that, like she was trying to fix it in my mind, and I was beginning to get an uneasy feeling about it.
The doors started to chime, so I jumped on and stood there, watching her wave goodbye to me; if only I had pulled her onto the train with me...
I arrived in London at about 10pm, and immediately made my way to the United States Embassy in Grosvenor Square, determined to queue all night if necessary. Many other people seemed to have the same idea, as there was already a long queue outside the barrier, so I settled down to wait, sitting on my bag and leaning against the barrier.
When the Embassy opened its doors at 8:30 I was ready, and queued in the American Citizen Services section, directed there by the imposing-looking US Marine on guard there, his chest a riot of ribbons.
The very helpful lady at the Enquiries desk listened to my story, and disappeared with my birth certificate, qualifications, driving license and two photographs I'd taken in the photo-booth in Euston Station, then briefly reappeared to call me into an Interview room, where a man not much older than me asked me some searching questions about my circumstances. I told him about my father, and his removing me from America when I was three, and my reasons for wanting to return to America. He asked if I wouldn't mind showing him my injuries, and that I wasn't required to, and when I unbuttoned my shirt he gave a sharp intake of breath.
"Ok Mr. Davies, I can understand why you want to return to the United States, I'll try and fast-track your passport application, but it may take a while. Take this and show it to the guard on duty if you need to leave to get something to eat or drink, there's a very good sandwich place around the corner, and several deli's where you can get a decent coffee. Welcome back, Mr Davies, I just wish it were under better circumstances." He handed me a plastic card with a number on it, and I took a seat in the waiting area, which had enough seats for an auditorium, already almost packed to capacity.
At about 1pm, I was called to the desk again, and was once again escorted to an interview room, where the same man had a package for me. "There you are Mr. Davies, one new passport, and all your paperwork, please guard them carefully, and I would like to wish you well, I hope you can locate your family and that they're well and happy!"
I thanked him, zipped and locked my paperwork and passport into my bag, and left, heading for Heathrow, where I bought a standby ticket to Albany via Newark; I had enough money, thanks to Barbara, to buy the ticket without the tedious business of booking; she had given me £8,000 sterling, almost $14,000, so after I bought my ticket, I changed it all to US dollars; I wouldn't need UK pounds any more, I was never coming back.
I cleared departures without any hitches or visa issues; I was an American citizen returning home, after all, with cabin baggage only, and waited in the departure lounge for my flight to be called, idly watching Sky News on the overhead TV, when suddenly Barbara's face flashed up, and the caption read 'Prominent businessman's wife found dead; police are treating her death as not suspicious'. My eyes blurred as I realised what she'd meant when she said she would fix things, why she'd asked me to remember her, and I swore, by all the angels and saints, and all the devils in hell, that one day I would make him pay, if I had to tie the rope around his neck and kick the chair away myself.
I found an empty cubicle in the men's washroom and cried for the only mother I'd known, the kindest person in my life, who'd stood over me and tried to protect me, who I had left to her fate, my loss and guilt burning a hole through my heart. I swore again, that if it took me the rest of my life, I would find a way to repay that bastard for every cut, every bruise, every mark he'd put on that poor lady, that every tear she'd cried would be repaid with blood and pain and horror, that all the fear and anguish she had felt would be visited on him a thousand-fold.
I sat in silence through the entirety of my flight, unable to eat or drink because of my guilt at not forcing her to come with me, or taking her somewhere safe; I felt like I had abandoned her to her fate, and the guilt and misery was like an enormous knot around my heart, tightening with every passing minute. Eventually I slept, exhaustion and emotional trauma wearing me down, to dream of Barbara sitting in the front row in the school hall, watching and smiling as we stumbled and fluffed our way through 'Titus Andronicus', our drama teacher still hoping against hope she'd find the next Kenneth Branagh or Scarlett Johansson. I woke as the 'plane began its descent, the 'ping' of the seatbelt alert startling me awake. The middle-aged woman sitting next to me silently passed me a tissue with a mixed look of concern and sympathy, and I realised my cheeks were wet where I'd been crying in my sleep.
Once I cleared customs and Immigration, I looked for a 'phone desk, to try and call my mother, to introduce myself, and ask if I could come and see her. I found the Verizon desk, and dialled the number, it rang a few times and then a soft voice answered.
"Hello?"
"Hello," I replied, heart in my mouth," is this the residence of Julia Lowry?"
"Speaking, how can I help you?"
My heart leapt. "Um, hello...this is Nick Davies, I'm in New York, waiting for my connection to Albany...I wanted to come and see you if that would be alright?"
There was silence, then "Nicky! Oh my God, baby, where...how...yes, yes, of course, please, oh God, yes! When are you arriving in Albany?"
I could barely speak as I read off my ticket.
"Flight UA 4271 out of Newark, scheduled to arrive at Albany at 5:23 pm, I'll be wearing a black leather jacket and carrying a blue holdall. I'll see you then...Mother..."
"Of course Baby, I'll come get you, oh God, Nicky, I didn't know where you were, I couldn't find you...!"
I could hear tears in her voice, and I was almost in tears myself.
"I have to go, I'll miss my Shuttle, see you in an hour or so, OK?"
"OK baby, I'll...I'll see you then...!"
My head was whirling; in little more than an hour I was going to meet my mother, the woman I had been taken from because my father didn't want her to have me, not because he wanted me!
I boarded the shuttle bus for the short hop to the terminal for my flight, and waited in line to board, ticket at the ready. I boarded and, after what seemed an interminable time, the cabin crew closed and sealed the doors and we moved out to the taxi-way, engines gunning as we began the takeoff sequence.
The flight was short, slightly over an hour, and I was quickly disembarked, as I had no hold luggage to collect, and I walked through the concourse, trying to spot the face I had only seen for the first time in a photograph a couple of days ago. I spotted a medium height slender woman, hair the same colour as mine, and my heartbeat quickened. As I looked at her, she turned to face me, and I felt an immediate shock of recognition; her eyes, her nose, her ears, even her chin, were all mine, and I knew immediately, this was my mother, at last, still as beautiful as she was in the picture I had!
I know she recognised me, her hands flew to her mouth and she started running towards me, and I ran to her, to catch her and hold her tight, while she kissed me and hugged my neck almost hard enough to break it.
"Nicky, my poor baby, I never thought I'd see you again, Oh God, he took you away, he said I'd never have you back, that you were his son, not mine, that he was only taking what was his...!"
I was trying hard not to cry, and not succeeding very well. Everything about her was awakening more and more memories, her playing with me and tickling me on a mat of some sort in a big garden, swings and laughter, carrying me on her hip and tweaking my nose, kissing me goodnight, a whole cavalcade of forgotten moments suddenly reawakened and swelling through me, and I reached up on impulse and rubbed the tip of her nose with my thumb. She burst into tears at that. "Oh baby, I never thought I'd ever have you do that to me again, my poor, stolen baby, I missed you so much, I didn't know where he took you, I tried to find you, but I didn't know where to look...!"
She hugged me tightly again, making me wince as she pressed against my injuries, and drawing back with a start. "What, what happened, did someone hurt you, Nicky? Please, talk to me!" I was reluctant to talk about it, the grief over Barbara's death and my guilt still too close to the surface, but eventually it all spilled out, me crying on her as she held me. She gently unbuttoned my shirt, and hissed when she saw my torso, her liquid brown eyes suddenly flashing like polished citrines, hard and unforgiving.
"He used the buckle on you, didn't he? That was always his favourite, just to make sure he marked you properly. There's a special corner of hell for people like him, and he's already staked out his own plot; someone will fix him one day, mark my words!"
She stood up. "Come on, we're going home, your home, if you want it. You will stay with me won't you...?" I nodded. "I would love that, if you'll have me, if it's not too much trouble?"
Mother smiled. "After 19 years, I want to keep you as close as I can; I've got a lot of missing you to get over!"
We walked arm in arm to the short-stay parking garage, and climbed into a 1990 LeSabre that had definitely seen better days, the engine wheezing and hitching as we pulled away. Mother grinned apologetically.
"Sorry about the car, honey, we're not exactly living the high life right now; bills come first, so the car's a little...temperamental right now!"
I grinned at her. "Do you have any tools at your home, Mother?" I asked her.
"Sure, my husband's old tool chest is in the garage, why?"
"Because I'm a qualified Automotive Mechanic, well, barely, the ink's not quite dry, but I may be able to do something with this old beauty!" She smiled a big, lovely smile at me.
"Really honey? Because I've been driving on the edge of calamity with my baby here for months now, I can't afford the mechanic to fix her, so..."
"Sure thing, just let me get some rest and I'll see what I can do!" I smiled.
After training on the endlessly complicated European cars infesting the roads in England, as well as the multitude of design variants each manufacturer came out with every year, I was itching to get my hands on a big, powerful, uncomplicated American road-machine like this lovely old LeSabre.
"Mother, you mentioned a husband, are you...?"
She looked sad for a moment. "No honey, my husband died four years ago, it's just me and Ashley now. And you can call me Mom, honey, no need for formality. You used to call me Mommy!" she said, tears in her voice again
Oh yes, Barbara had mentioned that mum had gotten pregnant.
"So Ashley, is that a boy or a girl?" I asked, unsure, as it's a unisex name in England.
"She's a girl, your little sister, or perhaps not so little, she's eighteen now, be nineteen soon; she's with friends now, she should be home tonight. You'll like her, she's a good kid!"
We arrived at Mom's house, a medium-sized 3 bedroom ranch-style house in a nice looking neighborhood, with a small yard and a drive-in garage, not exactly ramshackle, but definitely not in the same class as the extensively remodelled homes surrounding it. We jumped out and mum led the way in. The house was neat and clean, but decidedly shabby; obviously money was being spent on the essentials, and there was none to spare for fripperies; I decided I'd better get a job as a priority if I was going to stay here.
"Mother...Mom, I need to sort out a job, what do I need to do to enter the job market?"
Mum poked her head out from the kitchen.
"Don't worry honey, once you've settled in we'll go down to the Social Security Administration, get your Social Security number issued, then we'll have to go over to the Department of Labor, get your qualifications assessed. If you got them from a college in England, then it should be accredited, then the next step is to actually find a job. That's when the fun starts!"
I sat down gingerly; the drive had aggravated all my cuts and bruises, and mum noticed.
"Baby, take off your shirt, I want to look at your back!"
She appeared with a bottle of something and some cotton wool. I carefully took off my jacket and shirt, as the cuts had been bleeding, and my shirt had stuck to me in places. I took it off and whistled at the amount of blood caked on the inside of it, before wondering what my back looked like.
"OK baby, face away from me!" said mum, and again she hissed as she saw my back. "Oh Jesus, what a mess!"
"What does it look like?" I asked, and she replied, "Not good, but it'll clean up. Now this is going to sting a little, can't be helped, I have to clean this up, so yell if you have to!"
She wasn't joking when she said it was going to sting; it felt like I was being branded, and she kept dropping bloody swatches of cotton wool into the waste bin at my feet, muttering and cursing under her breath all the while.
"OK Nicky, all done, go put on a loose shirt, and don't lean back against anything, and tonight, sleep on your front. Now, are you hungry?"
Mom had put on a lovely thick beef stew, hot and filling. I'd not eaten anything since lunch the day before and I hadn't realised how ravenous I was, and she just kept filling my plate. I'd never eaten so well or so much; my father believed in moderation in all things, so meals tended to be frugal and uninteresting, cheap ingredients and minimal cooking to save fuel costs.
When we finished, I helped her clear up and wash-up, and she looked at my back again, as blood was still seeping through my shirt, and as I pulled my shirt off over my head a voice behind me said "Hi mom, what's for din...Holy shit, what the fuck happened to you?" I whirled around and the girl standing there hissed like Mom. "What the fuck did that to you?" she gasped.
"Ashley!" snapped mum, "I told you about language like that!"
Ashley stared at me. "Mom, who's this, and what's he doing half-naked in our house?"
Mum sat her down. "Ashley, meet Nicky Davies...my son. Nicky, this is my daughter, Ashley, your sister."
Ashley stared at me, her eyes widening and her mouth forming an 'O' of shock. "The boy you told me about, the one who disappeared? How did he...I mean...?"
Mom held my hand. "Nicky found out about me two days ago, he's been living in England, his father took him there, never told him about me, so he when he found out, he came home!" she was crying now.
"Mom, look at him! He looks like he's been horse-whipped! What the hell happened to him?"
I spoke up. "My father decided to beat up his wife, my step-mother, I tried to stop him, and..."
Ashley looked at me, eyes welling up. "Dear God, your father did this?" she whispered, "What about her, what happened to her?"
I was having a real problem getting the words out now"She tried to protect me, but we both got a beating anyway. She gave me the information about Mom, took me to the train station, and that's the last time I saw her alive; she got me out of there, and then she killed herself, it was all over the news when I got to the airport. That's what my father made her do." Tears were running down my face now, as I relived the guilt and shame. "I should have tried harder to bring her with me, get her out of there; if I had, she'd be alive now, it's my fault she killed herself, I should have made her come with me, I should have dragged her away...!"
Ashley took my hand, hugged me. "No, not true, you tried, but she wanted to do that, she wanted to escape, and you couldn't have stopped her; at least she helped you escape, at least she got you out of there first!"
All I wanted to do was sit in a corner and cry, too much had happened in the last 48 hours, and I was still processing where I was, who I was with, the emotional pummelling of the last couple of days finally caught up with me, I saw the floor rise up and that was all I remembered.
+++
When I awoke, the sunlight coming in the window had that fresh brightness that said 'early morning' and when I checked my watch I saw it was indeed just after 7am. I could smell coffee, and that more than anything else woke me up. I seemed to be in a girl's bedroom, frilly and pink were the general tone of the place, and I'd been lying on a sheet, probably placed there to prevent me bleeding all over the bedding; it was blood-smeared, but not as much as my shirt had been, so perhaps the bleeding had stopped now. I was in just my shorts, so someone had brought me in here and undressed me. Finding my jeans and shoes, I slipped them on and went to find the coffee.
I found Ashley curled up on the couch in the living room, looking massively cute in baggy pyjamas, watching cartoons with a big mug of coffee. She grinned at me "Hi Nick, you want a coffee? We haven't any tea, you know, and I know that's what you Brits like first thing, eh what, what?" she teased. "Love the accent, by the way!"
I grinned at her. "I'm not English, I'm an American, just like you; I was born in St Peter's, right here in Albany, although I only found that out a couple of days ago!"
Ashley smiled back. She really was stunning, mid-length, light coppery auburn hair in a casual twist over her shoulder, smoky green eyes, clear, fair skin with just a dusting of freckles across her small snub nose, and a rosebud mouth with rosy pink full lips, and from what I remembered from yesterday, a slim, lithe figure. "See anything you like?" she asked me in a teasing tone, and I realised I'd been assessing the hottie-quotient of my own little sister.
My face and ears felt hot, clear evidence I was blushing, and her grin grew even wider.
"Mom says you're some kind of hot-shot mechanic; think you can do anything with that shit-heap parked out front?"
Her smile was challenging, and I grinned.
"I can try. Mother...Mom said there's tools and stuff in the garage, can I use them?"
"I don't know, can you?" she grinned back, so I poured myself a coffee and went to see what was there. I was pleasantly surprised to see a proper mechanics tool-chest, fully stocked with everything I would need, and a rack full of spares for the LeSabre; obviously Mom's late husband had been planning a major overhaul of the car before he'd passed away.
I started the car and listened to the various groans, clanks, wheezes and rattles, mentally made a list of what I thought needed doing, and made a start on that lovely classic 3800 V6 engine, working methodically, logically, as I had been taught, addressing each issue in sequence. I worked happily, stopping now and then to chug down the coffee Mom or Ashley brought out to me, until I felt I'd gone as far as I could without a complete shop and pit. Mom came out and leaned on the car, looking closely at me.
"Would you like something to eat, honey, you've only been out here for nine hours!" she grinned, and I gaped; I was so lost in playing with this classic that the time had just run away from me.
"I think I'm about done. The silencer, I mean muffler needs replacing, I'll get one ordered, tomorrow I want to replace the brake pads, so I'll need her for a couple of hours, if possible, and the air-con needs re-gassing, so I'll have to find somewhere to get that done, but other than that, she should be roadworthy. Want to try her?"
She jumped in and started her up, no clonking or timing misfires, no wheezing, and when she pulled away, she did so without hitching or stalling. I love big lazy V6 engines, but hardly ever got to work on them in England, the cost of fuel there is so high that V6's & V8's are just too expensive to run.
Mom came back around the corner, parked up and slid out. "Honey, I think you just earned a special dinner tonight, what do you want?" she grinned.
"Dinner's on me Mom, you tell me where you want to go!" I still had more than $11,000 burning a hole in my pocket, and I wanted to treat my new-found family.
Ashley ambled on out. "How'd he do, Mom, did he get this shit-box off death-row?" she smiled, and Mom, tweaked my ear.
"That he did, Ashley, you have a very talented big brother!"
Ashley leaned up and kissed me on the cheek. "Thanks, Nicky, we depend on that car, and you really made a difference!"
My cheek burned where she'd kissed me, and I felt a frisson pass through me. I think she did too, because her eyes widened for a second, and she blushed prettily before turning away in confusion.
She tugged me back inside, and I have to admit, my eyes were fixed on her lovely rump, cute and round and shapely in her sprayed-on jeans, and the way she swayed as she moved, her cheeks switching as she walked, was truly entrancing. I washed-up with the can of mechanic's soap I found in the garage, and slumped down on the couch.
I barley saw Ashley for the rest of the day – she seemed to be occupied in her room, and so Mom and I chatted around sandwiches about my life in England, school and college, which caused some confusion at first. Americans seem to equate 'college' with 'university', whereas in the UK, there are Technical Colleges, and Universities, each completely different from the other. Technical Colleges teach craft skills, universities are more academic than anything. I ended up explaining my qualifications, or trying to, until Mom held up her hands in surrender. "Let the people at the Employment Office work it out, Nick, you lost me with all the British talk!" she laughed.
Eventually I dozed, waking when Ashley sat down on the couch next me and flicked on the TV.
I tried to make conversation. "So Ashley, do you have a boyfriend or fiance?" and her face flushed. "No, nothing like that."
I persisted. "I find that hard to believe. I hope you won't think this is weird, but I think you're a beautiful girl, you should be fighting them off..."
The expression on her face was unreadable, but her voice was steady. "I said no. There's no-one around here for me. Just let it drop, Nicky!"
I thought that was a most peculiar statement for such a hot girl, and looked curiously at her. "What's the problem, Ashley, I'm just trying to understand why a girl who looks like you should feel so unwanted!"
She came and sat on the chair opposite me. "OK, you want to know why, I'll tell you why. This is a wealthy neighborhood, do we look rich? This house is the wrong side of the tracks, I'm from the wrong side of the tracks, and as far as the neighbors are concerned, we're one step away from trailer-trash. My daddy was ill for a very long time, and all our money went for his treatment until we had none left, and then everything else went, until this was all that was left and this is how we have to live. We used to be part of this neighborhood, until we lost everything, now we're nobody, just a fucking embarrassment, disturbing their perfect, Martha Stewart, white picket-fence lives, so they don't see us, they just wish we'd go away. When I went to my junior Prom, Mom bought me a dress from a thrift shop, took it in, sewed sequins and changed the hem, added pieces on, made it look really nice, but one of the other girls recognized it as a dress she'd given to Thrift, she told everyone, and they all laughed at me, everyone laughed at me, even the chaperones. They called me Rag-Doll, Dumpster-Diver, Raggedy-Ann, they hurt me, and they laughed at me; for years I had no friends in High School, no-one wanted to be seen with Rag-Doll, even now the only friends I have are the other outcasts and losers. You may have been born here, but you're not from here, and you don't understand what this is about, that anyone can do what they like to me, so no, Nicky, there's no-one in this fucking town for me, OK, did you get that, can I go now?"
She was furious, and I mentally kicked myself for making her tell me about something that obviously hurt her deeply. She stood up and stalked out of the room and into her bedroom, the door slamming behind her.
"You had no way of knowing, Nicky." said Mom behind me, and I spun round to see her looking sad. "When she was little, she had everything, and she saw it all go, and she couldn't understand why no more vacations, no more Birthday and Christmas parties, no more sleep-over's, no more pool parties at her friends' houses. After her father got sick, his business failed, and our savings, insurance, everything, ran out, and I had to go back to work just so we could eat; Ashley knows I'm the only mother in the neighborhood who actually needs to work, and all I could find is a part-time job, so we live the best way we can. This house never used to be like this, but with no money to keep it up, well...
When you used to be somebody, it's a real shock to find out what the bottom of the tree really looks like, and it's been hard on her. Her High School days should have been the best time of her life, instead it was a nightmare for her, and it's my fault. I just wanted her to have just one nice thing, some nice memories after her father got so sick, but it all went so wrong, and you just got the edge of it; I'm sorry, Nicky."
I felt like shit. All I wanted to do was compliment my frankly gorgeous sister, and instead I'd raked up a past she was desperately trying to forget.
Mom came closer, kissed me gently on the cheek. "I think you need to eat something before you fall over, so go and get Ashley, she'll be OK in a minute, and let's go find someplace good for dinner!"
I smiled and went to Ashley's door, knocked gently. "Ashley, it's me, Nicky. If I ask you nicely, will you have dinner with me, please?"
I heard some faint noises from inside and then her door opened, her eyes reddened where she'd obviously been crying. I wanted to say something first, though.
"Ashley, I'm sorry for pushing like that, I had no business prying, or upsetting you. I'm sorry, please forgive me, I won't do that again. Please have dinner with me, let me apologize for upsetting you."
She smiled back at me. "Nicky, I'm sorry, you didn't know, how could you? I would love to have dinner with you, you smooth-talking Englishman you! Where are you taking me?"
I smiled. "It's your choice, anyplace you like, sky's the limit, besides, it's not like I actually know any good places here!"
"Italian?"
"Italian!" I agreed, and so we rejoined Mom, Ashley with her arm through mine.
"Mom, we're going to DaVinci's, Nicky wants to eat Italian, and it's been too long since I had Osso Buco Milanese, so let's go!"
Mom drove across town, and I was pleased to note the car seemed to be humming like a top. We went into what looked like a very popular Trattoria, were seated and placed our orders, and drank soda's while we waited for our meal. Mom excused herself, and Ashley and I were talking when she paled. "Oh no," she breathed, "Monica Delucci, of all the people to walk in, it had to be her!" I asked her why, and Ashley told me she was the one who nicknamed her 'Rag-Doll'.
"Quick, Nicky, pretend you're my boyfriend, please, just do it now!" I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, but she squirmed around and kissed me on the lips, her hands on either side of my face.
"Well looky here, Raggedy-Ann got herself a boyfriend!" said the blowsy looking, piggy-eyed chubby girl approaching our table with a malicious grin pasted on her doughy face.
I decided that now was the time to be Über-English, and in my best phony Hugh Grant accent said to Ashley "Who is this...person, Darling Girl, and why is she dressed so badly, surely mirrors are available absolutely everywhere – is she doing it for a dare?"
Monica flushed, while the people at the adjacent table grinned broadly.
She tried gamely to recover; "So who's the Englishman then, Raggedy-Ann?", and I decided to go for the throat.
"Really, Ashley, Darling, I thought you had better taste in friends. How very boorish, to interrupt us at dinner like this! Whoever you are, young woman... if indeed, you are a woman...please go away, you're disturbing me; after all, I don't turn off the Red Light when you're working!" The people at the next table burst out laughing, and the blowsy girl flushed, going scarlet when I spoke in a piercing aside to Ashley "and such dreadfully bad taste in clothes, really, doesn't she know people can see her, is she colour-blind...?"
Monica waddled off, half the people in the restaurant grinning broadly at her, and Ashley spun in her seat and hugged me. "Oh God, Nicky, that was so cool, thank you for squashing that bitch, she's had it coming for years!" Before I knew it, she'd kissed me again, only this time she slid her tongue between my lips and against mine, holding the back of my head, kissing me just slightly longer than would be proper for a sisterly kiss, and as for the tongue thing...
She broke and stared at me as I stared at her, then she slowly smiled and licked her lips, and hugged me again. "I think I'm going to like having my big brother around!" she whispered in my ear, before lightly licking my earlobe and giving me a minxy grin.
Just then Mom turned up, and seated herself. "You both look extremely pleased with yourselves, did something happen? Come on, what have I missed?"
Ashley's eyes danced with glee. "That fat bitch Monica Delucci tried to put me down and Nicky squashed her; he went all English on her, and shut down her fat face properly, the whole place was laughing at her!"
Mom grinned at me and took my hand. "Thank you Nicky, I knew you'd be good for Ashley!"
I smiled at Ashley. "Nobody puts my kid sister down, not while I'm around!"
Just then dinner arrived, and we set to. I hadn't realised just how ravenous I was until that slab of lasagne was slid in front of me, and it tasted divine. Even with all his money, my father had seldom splashed out on treats like this, so I had only ever eaten the sad and dejected lasagne they served in the school cafeterias; now, to eat the real thing, it was just amazing, the different tastes and textures like nothing I had ever eaten before.
Ashley smiled at me. "That good, huh?" as I forked it into my mouth, chasing the last of the sauce with a piece of cornbread, convinced I'd died and gone to heaven.
Mom leaned back, her Spaghetti Carbonara just a distant memory. "Thank you, Nicky; I can't remember the last time we ate out, this is a meal we'll remember for a long time."
I cocked an eye at her. "Mom, if I can get a job, I'll take you to dinner at least once a week, that's a promise!"
She smiled. "Ooh, I might just hold you to that, Nicky! I could get used to this!"
We sat and chatted some more, and then Mom pushed her chair away. "Well, kids, we have to call it a night, I have work in the morning, so why don't we head home and get some rest? You've had a long day, Nicky; you look about done-in."
The waiter brought our bill, and I settled up, and we headed back home, Ashley electing to ride in the back with me, her hand in mine and her head resting against my shoulder, snuggled up against me.
When we got home, Mom showed me to my room, sparsely furnished with a box spring and frame bed and a small closet, which was fine because all I owned in the world was in my holdall, so I had no pressing need for closet space. I kissed Mom good night, and she went of to her room. I was just putting my things away when I heard my door opening, and there stood Ashley, wearing a long T-shirt and baggy pyjama bottoms.
"Hello Nicky, I just came to see if you were OK in here, and to thank you for being my knight in shining armour!"
I smiled at her. "No thanks needed, you're my kid sister, and I'm happy to be your knight in shining armour, 'Sans peur et sans reproche', all dragon-slaying free of charge for you, milady!"
She smiled but persisted with what she wanted to say.
"No Nicky, it's more than that; it feels safer having a man in the house again; ever since daddy died, Mom and I have been alone; if anything bad happened to us, we had no-one to protect us, but I know Mom feels safe again, for the first time in four years. She usually sleeps on a hair-trigger, but last night was the first real rest she's had since daddy died, and it's because of you. Plus the whole 'having you back' thing, her mind's really at peace for the first time in a very long time, so thank you for that; for making us feel safe, and giving Mom some peace of mind at last."
To my surprise, I could see she was almost in tears, and I held out my arms to her, and she came and hugged me, being careful not to hug me too tight, her head buried in my chest.
"Mom was always afraid we'd get robbed, or worse, someone looking for some helpless women, she was terrified of that, so was I, and I know no-one around here would help us, so I'm just so thankful you came home, even if it wasn't the way it should have been!"
I was horrified that the women in my family were so vulnerable, so frightened, so alone, that there was no-one they could depend on. Well, now they had me, and I would protect them. I tilted her head up, and was shocked and distressed to see tears in her eyes, and need for reassurance written on her face.
"Ashley, I will never let anything happen to you or Mom. I'll make sure you and Mom are safe, I promise! Tomorrow, we're going to find a hardware store, and we're getting some proper locks and security hardware, and we'll fit them so you can sleep secure in your bed. OK?"
Ashley looked up at me. "Thank you for coming home just when we needed you, Nicky, you really are a godsend." She looked so sweet, so vulnerable, I bent down to kiss her forehead, brotherly and proper, but she tilted her head up to me and pressed her lips to mine, kissing me properly, and I kissed her back, enjoying the feel of her lips against mine, her body pressed against mine, her sweet breath on me as she broke our kiss to rapidly kiss me on my face, my neck, my throat, and again my lips, her tongue darting in and out of my mouth, fencing with my tongue as I tasted her again, feeling myself harden as she moved against me. Ashley hugged me and held her head against my chest, like she was listening to my heartbeat, and spoke softly.
"Nicky, can I stay with you tonight, please? Just ...stay, nothing else, I just want to feel safe again, like when my daddy was still here."
My heart broke open and bled for her, and there was nothing I could say except "Yes, of course, stay tonight, stay as many nights as you need, whatever it takes to make you feel safe. You just rest now, OK?"
She climbed into the bed, and wrapped the covers around herself, and I lay on top of the covers, with my arm around her. She immediately squirmed right up against me, and, with a happy sigh, closed her eyes, and was asleep in a couple of minutes. I lay awake for a while, trying to sort out how I felt about this girl who had become a part of my life so suddenly. I knew intellectually that she was my sister, but another, more visceral part of me wanted to ignore that altogether, it just wanted her, and I was feeling very conflicted about it. The truth was, I had no experience of her as a sister, we had no history whatsoever as siblings. All I knew was Ashley, the very pretty, no make that beautiful, girl I had just met, and I was enormously attracted to her, and found it remarkably easy to discount the sister aspect of her completely. I wondered how, if ever, I could be more than her older brother to her. She appeared to be opening the door for me, but maybe I was just misreading her intentions –my experience with girls wasn't exactly extensive, and I needed some guidance here, but from whom? My mother? Not very likely! I fell asleep pondering this puzzle that was Ashley Lowry.
I woke with the lark, my watch said 5:30 and I lay there, with an unfortunate morning erection pressed hard into Ashley's rump as she spooned up against me. I tried thinking about doing the work on the car, hoping to make it go down, or at least back off a little, as I was dying for a pee, but it had no real effect. I was desperately doing my French grammar exercises, conjugating verbs in the hope of distracting myself, when I saw Mom, smiling at me through the open door. That immediately had the desired effect, oh yes!
"So she stayed here last night, then?" she whispered, and I smiled and nodded.
"She was frightened; she asked if she could, I couldn't very well say no, so..."
Ashley stirred and opened one eye. "Could you two please save this for later, I'm trying to sleep!" before patting me on the hip and rolling over to go back to sleep.
I got up as gently as possible so as not to disturb her further, and found the bathroom, then followed Mom into the sitting room.
She was making coffee, and brought me a cup, sitting down next to me. "I'm glad you're here, Nicky, Ashley already feels safer in her home; she's been afraid for a long time now, ever since..."
I felt a cold hand on me. "Ever since what, Mom?" I asked, suddenly afraid I already knew the answer.
Mom sat down, and looked at me. "She was...attacked, outside, two years ago, a boy followed her home and grabbed her on the porch, dragged her out back, and ...and..." she stopped, swallowed, and continued. "The police found no useable evidence, he used a condom, so no DNA, and she's been hurting and terrified ever since. My daughter was raped because I couldn't do anything to protect her!"
I nearly blacked-out with the shock. My sister, my kid sister, abducted off her own porch and raped, and no-one could do anything about it! That's what she'd meant when she'd said anyone could do what they liked to her! I was outraged, horror-struck, nearly blinded with anger; I'd only been home a few days, but already my protective instincts were kicking –in, and my rage towered inside me, my whole body trembling as I fought for balance, trying to suppress the urge to go looking for him, find him, whoever he was, and throw him around until I'd broken every bone in his body, beat him into a quivering mass of flesh, crush him to pulp with my bare hands.
Suddenly Mom was there, holding me tight, waiting for the rage to subside, smoothing my hair, talking urgently to me.
"Stop it Nicky, leave it, it's gone now, please baby, calm down, it's in the past, you're here now, and she's safe, she's got you to protect her now, that's what matters, please, baby, stop this, don't be the man your father is!"
That brought me up short; blind, unreasoning rage was one of my father's trademarks, and I would rather burn in hell than become in any way like him. Mom felt me relax as her words penetrated the haze of anger and outrage, and suddenly I was back in the room with her, muscles twitching in reaction as I relaxed, tears welling up as I thought of that poor, vulnerable girl and the shocking violation she'd endured, the theft of her most basic right; the right to say 'no'.
"Mom, I promised her I'd protect both of you. Today I'll be fitting new locks and hardware around the house, make this place as secure as I know how, so at least you can sleep easy at night. I'll always be here for both of you, I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you before. If I'd known about you, known how alone and frightened you were, I'd have come to you years ago, please believe me!"
Mom hugged me. "I know, Nicky, I'm just grateful you're here now, my family is back together again, that's all that matters to me."
"So what's with the love-fest?" said a sleepy voice from the doorway, and I looked round to see Ashley, hair dishevelled but looking adorable, standing in the doorway, eyes still sleepy."I'm trying to sleep, but you two yakking in here is keeping me awake!"
Mom grinned. "A miracle, she's up before 11 o'clock!"
Ashley sat down next to me, leaning against me with her head against my shoulder and her arm through mine, and I instinctively moved my arm to put it around her, hugging her close to me so she could cuddle up against me on the couch, tucking her feet up under her. She pulled my head down and kissed me on the cheek, whispering "Hi, Big Boy!" as she did, and I felt my face and ears heat up again as I blushed.
Mom looked at me, then at Ashley. "Baby, Nick knows, I told him; I thought he should know."
Ashley looked up at me with those luminous smoky green eyes of hers, and said in a small voice "So now you know; now do you think I'm trash, too?"
I nearly choked with all the things I wanted to say, and I hugged her to me, fiercely, protectively. "Ashley, I could never, would never, think that of you; you're my little sister, and my job is to protect you, no matter what. I wasn't here to look out for you before, and I'm so sorry, but I'm here now, and I'll never let anyone hurt you again, I swear!"
She reached up and pulled me down to kiss me on the cheek again. "Thank you Nicky, I'm glad my big brother came home at last!"
Mom got up and stretched. "I have to get to work, if anyone wants breakfast, now's the time to ask, otherwise I'm getting a shower."
There were no takers, so Mom went to the bathroom and I remained seated, nursing my coffee while Ashley snoozed against me. I thought she'd probably be more comfortable in her bed, but when I tried to get her to move, she just hugged herself closer to me, muttering adorably, and refused to wake up, so I sat there, in my shorts, waiting for her to waken so I could get a shower.
Mom left before 7 am; even though it was Sunday, it was month-end and she had to sort out the payroll at the firm she worked at part-time, and she told me she'd be back late. Kissing her fingertip and touching it to Ashley's forehead, and doing the same to me, she left for work. I was happy to sit there for a while and finish my coffee, but my arm was beginning to go dead from her weight against me.
"Ashley, Ashley, time to get up!" I tried whispering loudly, hoping to rouse her, but she seemed determined to sleep through anything I had to say, so, in desperation, I reached across and pinched her on her pneumatic little backside. That did the trick, as her eyelids slammed open and she gave a little cry as she started up.
"Sorry Ashley", I said "My arm went to sleep, it was really uncomfortable, I tried waking you but..."
She grinned. "That's OK, Nick, you can pinch my butt anytime you like!"
That was a little unexpected, not to say strange, but I couldn't help smiling at her cheeky grin. "Now you're awake, do you want some breakfast, or do you want to go back to your room?"
"Take me to my room, please, Nicky!" she smiled, so I handed her up from the couch and took her hand to lead the way.
"No, I meant take me, you know, carry me!" Feeling faintly ridiculous, I picked her up, marvelling at how little she weighed, and carried her to her bedroom and laid her down on her bed.
"Thank you Nicky, now you shall claim your reward, good sir knight!" she grinned, and as I wondered what she was talking about, she hooked her arms around my neck and pulled me down to her, kissing me again like she'd done last night, lips parted and gentle against mine, her tongue gently probing my mouth. I have to say, it was a very enjoyable kiss, the fact that she was beautiful, and very sexy, adding enormously to my enjoyment!
I suddenly realised what I was doing, and pulled away, stuttering apologies for taking advantage of her, but she just put her finger on my lips.
"Shush, Nicky, I wanted to do that again ever since last night, so don't apologize, I liked it!"
I was a little confused now; she was my sister, and she wanted to kiss me; what was wrong with that statement?
"Umm, Ashley, I really don't think we should do that, it's...wrong, not normal, not what brothers and sisters do...!" She just grinned at me, her grin getting wider as I stumbled over what I was trying to say. Finally I dried up, and just looked at her helplessly.
"OK, are you finished?" she asked, and I nodded mutely. "Good, my turn. Nicky, for a long time I pretended that my big brother would come home one day, save Mom and me, be the man of the house and keep us safe. You came home, and you were as handsome, and as nice as I'd imagined, and you were my Prince Charming on his white horse when I needed him, saving me from the wicked witch, and you were a perfect gentleman, you made me feel safe and protected no matter how badly you were hurting inside. I kissed you last night to welcome you home, and to thank you for coming back to us, and because I wanted to. And I liked it, and I wanted to do it again, so now I want you to kiss me, or I'm going to kiss you. Now come up here, and sit next to me, because either way, it's going to happen!"
I was a feeling a little shell-shocked, and so I sat on her bed, resting against the headboard, and made no protest when she kissed me again, and it was as good as the last time. She seemed to be making an all-out effort to kiss me properly, and it was a wonderful kiss. I felt myself responding, and I slid my arms around her to hold her close as I kissed her back, feeling her yielding softness against me. She broke our kiss to grin impishly at me. "There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" and I had to agree; not bad at all, which made what I had to say doubly-hard.
She leaned over to kiss me again, and I held her off, while I looked her in the eyes.
"Ashley, where are you going with this?" I asked her, "Because if you just want sex, then perhaps we should call it quits right now. I won't lie; I'm enormously attracted to you, I could seriously fall for you, and if you don't feel the same way, then please don't take it any further; I'm not sure what I want from you, but it's more than just sex, and if you got the wrong idea, that I just wanted a bit of fun, then I'm sorry, I didn't mean to mislead you. There has to be more, I want more than just a bit of slap and tickle, and if you feel the same way, then perhaps we can make a go of with this, otherwise I have to leave, now; I'm sorry, but that's just the way I'm made, and I don't want to hurt you!"
She suddenly slid onto my lap, straddling me with her hands on either side of my face, holding me.
"Nick, when I first saw you I thought you were the handsomest, most charming, nicest boy I had ever met, and I was delighted you were my big brother, come home at last. With all that happened to you, your only thoughts were for your family, for that poor lady in England, and when you cried for her because you couldn't save her, well, I melted inside when I heard that, when I saw how caring and good you were. I thought you were sexy, and beautiful, and something deep down inside clicked and I knew you were the one for me! You make me feel safe, and loved, and protected, and you do that just by being near me, and I want that feeling to keep on happening. I admire you for what you just said; not many other people would have had the character to do and say that, and that just makes me want you more. You are a very sexy guy, did you know that?"
Now she was pulling me closer for another wonderful kiss, her tongue soft and gently probing against mine, her lips soft and gentle but insistent, and her body slim and supple to hold as we kissed, no more misgivings or doubts. Something was definitely happening further south, and she was well aware of it, sliding back and forth in my lap, rubbing herself against me, teasing me and making my burgeoning erection harder and more obvious. As my erection swelled, so her movements became more insistent, and her breathing started to hitch as she became more aroused. I realised what she was doing, and almost stopped breathing, I was so anxious not to break her concentration. She broke our kiss again to throw her head back, her cheeks flushing and her eyes closed as she squirmed and rubbed on me, until her body went rigid, and her eyes snapped open, and she gave a sobbing groan as she climaxed, keeping up her rubbing motion to extend her orgasm. I wasn't a virgin, although not vastly experienced, but I knew my way around a seduction routine, and this was the first time I'd been ambushed, and it was a doozy!
At last her breathing returned to normal, and she smiled at me, tears in her eyes.
"I did it, Nicky, Oh God, I really did it! I didn't think I could, not ever again!"
She glued her lips to mine again for a long and very satisfying kiss, before jumping off me and pulling me upright and off the bed. She began pulling off her pyjama bottoms, and I stopped her.
"Did what, Ashley, what do you mean?" I asked, and she smiled at me, a truly beautiful, happy, dazzling smile.
"I came, silly! All because of you! Ever since I was raped, I never thought I could have that again, but you made it happen for me!"
She carried on pulling off her pyjamas,
"Ashley, what do you think you're you doing?" I asked her. She grinned that grin again. "Getting naked Nicky, what does it look like, aren't you going to join me?"
I watched her as she finished pulling off her pyjama pants to reveal small tight pink cotton panties with a large damp patch around the crotch area. When she pulled off her top, I almost groaned at the sight. She had small but perfectly-formed breasts, 32B maybe, high and firm, tipped with delectable rose-pink nipples at least half an inch long, just begging to be pulled and sucked, and all I could think was, sister or no, I wanted her, the realisation that I was falling for this girl suddenly rising up and slamming into me, catching me almost unawares.
She grinned as I caught her up and pressed my lips to hers, her arms going around my neck as she ground herself against me, my hands sliding down to cup her tight buttocks and pull her in closer to me. I slid my hands inside her panties to feel her smooth skin and hooked the waistband to edge them down, getting them past her thighs before she stepped away from me to slide them off and stand before me naked and gorgeous, her shaven pussy bare and smooth, the lips just visible as she stood.
"Your turn, Nick!" she grinned, and I obliged, sliding down my shorts and kicking them away, Ashley stepping close to me again, her hands fondling me as she kissed me, one small hand rubbing and pumping my solidly erect cock while the other gently cupped and massaged my scrotum. I backed up to the bed, and she pushed me lightly, causing me to sit down, and she pushed me over backwards, grinning all the while, as she climbed onto the bed and hooked a finger at me. I needed no further encouragement, and swung up on the bed to lie next to her, enjoying the sight of her nakedness and the silky smooth feel of her supple, sexy body.
Ashley lay on her side, smiling at me as I drank in the sight of her, before I pulled her closer to me, my head dipping down to suck and lap at her lovely sexy nipples, feeling them become taut and rubbery against my tongue and lips, and when I gently rubbed them with my teeth, she groaned and held my head in place as she quivered and writhed against me.
She pulled away from me and gently urged me onto my back, climbing on top of me and kissing me again, her tongue probing and rubbing against mine, while I found her buttocks and slid my hands into the warm cleft, gently brushing her anal pucker and sliding further, to rub gently at her slit, feeling the wetness as her juices flowed and dampened her labia, lubricating her and making her ready.Ashley sat up astride me, smiling mysteriously, and reached back to hold my cock as she raised up and slowly slid herself onto it. I don't have a huge cock, but neither do I have a pencil-dick; I would describe it, at seven inches, as better than average, but not excessively so, but it is thick, and Ashley was feeling it as she ground herself down onto me, her eyes narrowing in concentration as she gingerly slid herself onto me. When she'd finished, she began slowly rising and falling, pumping herself on me, her pussy tight and wet and hot, the friction against my cock delightful.
I clamped my hands on her delectable backside, squeezing and massaging the taut firm globes as she pumped above me, before switching my attention to her breasts, lightly pinching and twirling her nipples and massaging the firm little mounds of flesh, her eyes closing and her neck and chest flushing as her arousal climbed. I began thrusting into her as she continued to pump herself onto me, grinding her clitoris against me on the down-stroke, working herself up as she rode me. We began to pick up the pace, feeling the need to orgasm, her breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps as she rode me faster and faster, and my hips thrusting harder and harder as I tried to keep pace with her. Ashley came with a loud and heartfelt groan, her pussy walls clasping me tight as they convulsed around me, her orgasm pulsing in her cervix against me, and I gasped out "Ash, I'm ...oh God ...I'm gonna come...!" She slumped down onto me, her lips seeking out mine as she moaned, "Yes, do it, Nicky, do it, come inside me...!" and with that I spurted jet after jet of sperm deep into her, my orgasm triggering another series of orgasmic waves in her, the pulsations in her vagina milking my cock as I sprayed her insides with my spunk, my hands clutching her buttocks tightly as I continued to empty my cock into her.
At last I stopped ejaculating, and the rhythmic waves in her vagina died away, Ashley still lying on me, her body quivering and trembling as the aftershocks of her orgasm slowly died away.
"What did you do to me, you naughty Englishman, you!" she grinned. "Not English...American!" I panted, smiling at her impish grin. She must have seen something change in my expression as a sudden chilling thought flashed across my mind now that I was thinking with my brain again, as she picked-up on what had just occurred to me; that I had come in my sister, and I hadn't even asked if she was protected, just fired on all barrels!
Ashley grinned at me. "Don't worry, Nicky, I'm on the pill! After what happened, Mom was taking no chances. We can do this as many times as we like!"
She dismounted me as I breathed a huge sigh of relief, and slumped gracefully down on the bed next to me, tracing the bruises on my side and stomach, checking the state of the open cuts and score-marks.
I hugged her to me, basking in my realisation that she had caught me, that I was hers now, feeling foolish and happy and a multitude of other emotions as her warmth and beauty mesmerised me; she really was an absolute stunner, and she was mine!
She looked pensively at me for a moment, and seemed to come to a decision. "So, what's he like, Nicky, your father, I mean, what's he like?
I thought for a second, mentally switching-tracks from her to thinking about my dog-cock father. "Driven, grasping, cheap, greedy, obsessed with money but never actually spends any, vicious, violent, believes that rules, of society, good behaviour, common politeness, don't apply to people like him. He's not a good person, or a good man. But, there must have been something about him once, otherwise Mother...Mom would never have married someone like that, so maybe he changed. I know he used to beat her, that's probably why she...did what she did."
Ashley looked up at me with an interested expression.
"What did she do, Nicky?"
I was uneasy about telling her this, this was rightfully a story Mom should be telling her.
"Nicky, does this have something to do with daddy?" Now she was looking agitated.
"Look Ashley," I began, "this is not really mine to tell, and I would be guessing at half of it; perhaps you should ask Mom when she gets home. What I will tell you is that what she did probably saved her life, knowing my father, and yes, I think it does have something to do with your father. More than that I can't say, because I honestly don't know. What little I've told you I only learned the day before I came to America, so there's some big gaps there."
Ashley looked steadily at me. " OK Nick, you're right, I'll ask her!"
With that, she sat up, her lovely little breasts jiggling delightfully, my gaze drawn to them.
She smiled again. "Like the girls, do you?" and I nodded, grinning happily, watching her as she stretched like a cat, her lithe, limber young body glowing with health and vitality, and I thought I'd never seen a more beautiful sight.
"Ash, can I ask you a question, and if you tell me to mind my own business I'll completely understand."
She nodded. "Ask away, I'll try and answer, but I'm not promising anything!"
"So, after what ...happened to you, were you not...afraid to, you know, with a man, because of what he did to you?"
Ashley leaned on my chest, looked into my eyes with her beautiful luminous malachite eyes and pursed her lips.
"Nick, Nicky, today, just now, I did what I did because I wanted to, not because anyone forced me; back then it was about what he wanted, what he could do to me. What he did was take away my choice; what I did today was make that choice for myself; I was ready to do this, and I wanted to, because you helped me to feel I was normal again; yes, I remember the pain and the fear and the loss of control over what happened to me, but that was then, and it's gone, and no, I don't hate all men and want to cut their balls off, just his!"
I hugged her close to me. "I'm sorry for raking it up, I just wanted to be sure that I hadn't added to what you're already carrying around inside; I wanted you to know that not all of us are like that, and I would never take advantage of you, in anything, or force you to do anything you didn't want to do."
She kissed me softly. "I know Nicky, and thank you for thinking like that!"
I turned on my side to face her, sliding my arm under her so I could hold her buttocks and pull her close enough to kiss her properly. Ashley happily complied, holding herself close to me with her arms around my neck, making sure she didn't touch my still-raw back, kissing me back as warmly as I kissed her.
Eventually she broke our kiss to grin at me. "I guess what I said yesterday isn't true anymore; there is someone for me in this town, after all! Now I have to work out a way to tell Mom...!"
I smiled at her. "We'll tell Mom, it's you and I now, if that's what you want...? I hesitated, not knowing how to continue.
Ashley smiled slowly at me. "Why Nick, whatever are you saying?" she asked me softly.
I smiled back at her. "I think I'm saying that I'm yours, if you'll have me, that I know now how much I need you, and that you will always be the only one for me!"
She gasped, eyes suddenly shining with unshed tears, and smiled like the sun breaking through on a cloudy day.
"Nick, I told you earlier how I felt about you, how I felt when I first saw you, that hasn't changed in the last hour or so, and I'm glad you said what you said, otherwise I was going to ask you; I'm already yours, you had me the first time you smiled and checked me out!"
I grinned, smacked her lightly on her tight little bottom.
"OK, now we know, I need a shower, so do you, we need to go shopping, I feel like spending some money on my girl, what do you want most in the world right now?"
Ashley gave a wide grin. "I would like a new pair of jeans, please Santa, tight enough to give Mom a stroke!"
"Done!" I said, and her expression became serious. "Nicky, I like the thought of being your girl, it feels right, but I was only kidding! Save your money, please, you'll need it for yourself!"
I demurred "No, Ashley, you need stuff, Mom needs stuff, this house needs stuff, new locks and suchlike, to make it safe, so get ready, we're going shopping!"
After a quick shower together, with Ashley carefully washing and drying-off my back, she applied some fresh gauze dressings and helped me put on a clean shirt, and she appeared in a loose top, jeans and cowboy boots. Mom had the car, so we walked a couple of blocks to the bus stop to catch a connection into the Colonie Center, a biggish mall in town.
Ashley was in her element; I meant it when I said I wanted to spend money on her, and it felt good to see her face as she shopped for the first time in what was probably a long time, given the state of the family finances. I promised myself again I'd do something about that; Mom and Ashley had gone without everything except the bare necessities for far too long.
Ashley bought shoes and underwear, and then, after we'd toured through what felt like every shop in the entire mall, took me to somewhere called Target, where she loaded-up on tops, jeans and summer-wear. She looked so happy, buying new clothes, and I was astonished at how cheap clothes were here, given how expensive they were in England, one of my father's compelling reasons for hardly ever buying me any. I bought some jeans, underwear and shirts she picked out for me, I'd only brought one pair of jeans with me, and I'd been in them four days now, so a change was definitely due!
She also knew Mom's size and taste, so she picked up some things for her, blouses, that kind of thing, and then she took me to Home Depot, where I bought proper single-cylinder deadbolt locks, one for each door, a pair of solid, old-fashioned barrel shoot-bolts for each door, and a sash lock for every window in the house. I also bought a PIR porch light and some electrical cable, so the porch would never again be dark enough that someone could lurk there unseen; my family needed to feel safe, and this was the best way I knew how to do it.
We lunched in a famous fast-food franchise outlet, and eventually got back home about 3pm. Ashley set about trying on her new clothes while I got some tools from the garage and began replacing the rickety old locks on the front and back doors. The doors were fine old Red Cedar, aged and tough, but the locks were gimcrack things you could pop with a knife blade, so I removed them and swapped them with the new ones, one for each door; luckily the locks were the same size, just infinitely sturdier, or I might have had a problem; no issues here with replacing old, imperial-dimensioned locks with metric ones, which is still a real pain in England, and at least now the two doors were secured. I knew how to do this because my father had made me do this same task at home, deciding that a tradesman was an unnecessary expense when he had unpaid labour living in his house and eating his food, so I'd replaced all the locks in the house under his critical eye.
The windows were the same, old and solid, but still with sash-bolts from the 1930's, completely ineffective and easily opened with a knife blade from outside, so I replaced them all with proper sash-locks, an easy, screw-in job, and ran in the cable for the light and mounted it on the porch. Tomorrow, when I had more time to work out the electrical system, and better light, I would connect it up. I felt a sense of achievement when I'd finished; my family was as safe as I could make them, now they could at least sleep easier at night.
Ashley called me to come and see, so I went to her room, and what a sight I saw! She was wearing a white lace bustiere and miniscule panties, white stockings with lace tops, and black stilettos, her hair back-combed into a bouffant, and her face made-up carefully; she looked stunning, something other parts of me noticed right away!
She smiled and slowly pirouetted. "Like it, Nicky? I bought these especially for you, so you'd better say yes!"
I was speechless, she was an absolute dream, a feast for the eyes, how the boys in her school could be so mean to her was beyond me. I stepped up to her, and she draped her arms around my shoulders and kissed me deeply and meaningfully.
"Now you've seen your present, are you going to unwrap it?" she whispered in my ear, my hands instantly sliding down her back to cup and squeeze her lovely taut buttocks, the silky material of her panties clinging sensuously to her smooth skin.
I began unhooking the back of the bustiere, Ashley's lips glued to mine the whole time, and when the last hook was unclipped, she stood away from me and let it drop to the floor, to stand before me in her panties, her legs long and elegant, the stilettos enhancing the shapely calves and sleek thighs.
I pulled her close to me and kissed her some more, my hands sliding into the waistband of her panties at her hips, sliding them down past her buttocks, down her thighs to let them float to the floor, and now she was naked except for her stockings and high heels.
She popped the button of my jeans, helping me to drag them of and tugging my shirt carefully over my head, so I was now in just my briefs, my erect cock clearly visible to her, the head peeking over the waistband. Ashley kissed me while her hand massaged the front of my briefs, feeling my size and squeezing the shaft through my briefs, her tongue fencing with mine as she groped my cock. She tugged the front of my briefs down, allowing my cock to rear up fully, and she wrapped her hand around it and squeezed gently, sliding the skin back and rubbing her thumb lightly across the head, making me ache as my cock hardened even further, if that was possible.
I slid my hand down her flat stomach and between her legs, feeling the warmth of her pussy as she began to respond to my kissing and fondling of her, her labia dewy and slick with her secretions. I teased her lips apart, sliding my finger into the warm recess, her lips parting against mine as she softly gasped, and her hand on my neck pulling me in closer to kiss her harder. I rubbed and frigged her gently, her hips moving against my hand, pushing herself against me, until she broke our kiss to urge me towards the bed. I stepped away from her and she immediately pushed my briefs down until I could kick them off to be completely naked with her.
Ashley climbed onto the bed and turned to smile invitingly at me, and I wasted no time in joining her, sliding onto the bed and pulling her close to me to taste her lips and fondle her as we kissed.
She slid down the bed and onto her back, and I dipped my head down to nibble and graze on her sweet nipples, enjoying the firm rubbery nubs against my tongue and teeth, making her gasp and twitch as I pulled them gently with my teeth, one hand steadily rubbing and teasing her labia, dipping in and out, circling her clitoris, making her gasp as her face and neck flushed, the flush spreading down to her throat and chest. Now I kissed between her breasts, lapping a trail down her firm abdomen, to point my tongue into her little jewel of a navel, licking and teasing her.
Ashley groaned, and twined her fingers in my hair, whispering to me "Now Nicky, I need you now!"
I moved between her thighs, Ashley parting her legs for me and taking hold of me, guiding me, and smiling when she was ready. I gently pushed forward, feeling her open up for me, the moist heat wonderfully exciting against the swollen head of my penis. I sank into her, Ashley groaning contentedly as I filled her up again, and when I was in up to the hilt, I began pumping into her, her hips rising to meet mine as we danced together, in perfect harmony, our bodies perfectly matched in need and motion.
I could feel my orgasm building, and she also was approaching climax, her thrusts against me more urgent, more insistent, her head thrown back as she held me with her interlaced fingers around the back of my neck, using me as leverage to thrust against me.
She came with a long, guttural moan, her pussy walls clamping tight around me and her back arching as her orgasm flared through her, her juices squirting from her and coating my midsection with her warmth. The sensation was too much for me, and I gave a deep groan as I came, emptying myself into her in long, pulsing jets of sperm shooting into her innermost recesses. We held that pose until our mutual orgasms died away, strained and straining muscles and tendons finally relaxing as I collapsed against her, her lips seeking out mine as we tenderly kissed in the afterglow of our passion.
I rolled over, taking her with me, her stocking-clad legs on either side of me as I once again clasped hold of her delightful, pneumatic little bum, marvelling again at the taut, firm springiness of her cheeks, the firm muscular flesh, the way they fitted my hands, as though cast for that very purpose.
"We have to get dressed, Mom will be home in an hour or so, and I need to put some dinner on," she murmured, fingers running up and down my chest, "plus I need another shower, and we need to air this room out!"
I grinned, there was a definite smell of sex in the air, and I really needed another shower too!
We reluctantly climbed off the bed, Ashley retrieving her bustiere and panty set, and rolling down her stockings. "I better put these somewhere safe; Lord knows what she'll think if she finds them!" she grinned wickedly, padding around the room naked, her long, lithe, dancer's body a graceful, sexy and erotic sight.
We had another quick shower together, Ashley once again helping me with my back, and once we'd dried off and gotten dressed, she went into the kitchen to start dinner while I cleared up and made up a set of keys for each of us for the new locks I'd fitted.
We'd just sat down to watch some TV when there was a knock at the door, and I opened it to Mom.
"Honey, you installed new locks, how wonderful!" she grinned, and Ashley smiled at her."Sorry Mom, usually I can hear the car from three blocks away, looks like Nicky did a real good job on it, I didn't hear you coming at all!"
I gave Mom her new keys, and showed her how the window bolts worked, and she hugged me. I looked at her and was surprised to see tears in her eyes.
"Oh Nicky, you don't know what this means to us, to have a man in the house again, someone who can do these things for us, it's like having ...!" She turned away to wipe at her eyes, but I knew what she had nearly said, that it was like having her husband back to do the things that keep a house and family safe and secure. Well she had me now, and I would do my best to keep my family safe.
After dinner, Mom asked Ashley to take me around, show me the neighborhood, so we went for a drive, and I got to see where the local shops were, the local bars, although I had no interest in those, and Ashley's High School. I noted the location, and the route, as I planned on taking her to school from now on, and collecting her; I was wary of the locals after what had happened to her, so I wasn't taking any chances. I asked her if I could drive back, I had a full UK license, so she gave me the keys. "Knock yourself out, stud!" she grinned, "Just remember to stay on the right; you're not in England anymore!"
I'm not really a big fan of automatics, I learned to drive, as does nearly everyone in Britain, in a stick-shift, but I knew how to drive one, so we swapped seats and Ashley piloted me home, pointing out the traffic signs and what they meant. It felt really good, driving a great big American car down a wide urban road with a pretty girl under my arm, and I thought to myself "I could get used to this, oh yes!"
We pulled up at a set of lights and another car pulled up next to us, the two girls sitting in it staring at us, making me feel uncomfortable, but Ashley just looked up at me and grinned that pixie grin of hers, so I pulled her closer and pulled away when the lights changed.