Greetings all; in my stories my characters exist in my head, but there might be real life inspirations for some of them. Who knows?
I'm back again with another story. This time I write about a family secret.
~
Sara ushered the last of the well-wishers out the front door of her parent's one story Victorian style house just as the afternoon was turning to evening. They'd dropped by to celebrate her mom's miraculous recovery from a rare disease.
After closing the door she sighed deeply as she turned and walked into the kitchen, where her mom Darby and her momma Leslie who was her birth mother were both sitting at the table. She looked at the women and smiled. It was like looking in a mirror. She'd inherited their good looks and great ass.
"Thank goodness that's over," said Darby. "I appreciate all of their well wishes, but I hope we don't see those witches again anytime soon."
"Mom, they're just glad to see that you recovered."
"Pifftt, they feel guilty because they expected me to die."
"Darby you have to admit, it was touch and go for you for a minute," said Leslie.
"It really was mom," agreed Sara.
"Well thanks to you my sweet Sara, I'm still here," said Darby.
"It was my honor," responded Sara. "But it was the doctors and my bone marrow that saved you. I didn't do anything."
"You know what amazes me though mom, is that there was an infinitesimal chance of someone who wasn't your sibling, your parent, or your child being a match for you. How can it be that I was, but uncle Ronnie wasn't?"
"Well actually there is an explanation for that," Darby began tentatively as she made eye to eye contact with Leslie. "I'm not a religious woman, but I'm spiritual, and I firmly believe that everything happens for a reason. I think that perhaps my illness was a sign."
"Darby, what kind of good can come from nearly dying from a rare disease?" asked Leslie.
Sara raised an eyebrow but she kept quiet.
"Leslie I know you don't believe that the universe can communicate with us but it can," insisted Darby.
"Mom do you really believe that," asked Sara with a skeptical look on her face..
"I certainly do honey, she replied, then she took hold of one of Sara's hands and said, "We've never hidden from you that Leslie was impregnated by your surrogate father. Well there's a little detail we never told you.
"I believe my getting an illness that only you could cure was the cosmo's way of saying it's time for you to know who your father is."
Darby then told Sara everything your humble omniscient narrator is about to tell you.
~~
(Twenty one years ago in Darby and Leslie's kitchen.)
"Leslie, Bobby Ray changed his mind about giving us some of his sperm," said Darby after practically flinging her purse onto the kitchen table and flopping into a chair.
"Well, it is his sperm even if he's only going to waste it by shooting it on a napkin or flushing it down a toilet," said Leslie..... as she noticed that Darby's eyes were scanning her body. "Why're you looking at me like that sweetie?" she asked.
"You're really beautiful and sexy and gorgeous" said Darby in a sensual tone of voice.
"Thank you," responded Leslie. "Flattery will get you everywhere you know."
"I like that your nightie hides your breasts and pussy just enough to leave something to the imagination," said Darby.
"My mom always told me that a lady should maintain some mystery about her coochie," said Leslie. "Your man will get bored with you if you go around naked all the time," she added doing her best imitation of her mother's voice.
"Coochie is a funny sounding word." said Darby
"Really? What word should I use then?" asked Leslie.
"I don't know, vag I guess," suggested Darby.
"Hm, that sounds to ladylike. I think I'll stick with coochie or cooter, they're a little bit naughty but not as gross sounding as cunt or twat," stated Leslie. "Ooo, there's the buzzer. My cookies are ready."
"It's nice working from home huh. You don't have to get dressed and you can bake cookies while you're on the clock," commented Darby.
"Yep," agreed Leslie as she placed all but two of the cookies into a cookie jar, then fetched a jug of milk from the refrigerator. "Here you are.... have some warm cookies and cold milk with me. Now tell me what happened with Bobby Ray."
"My cousin Bobby Ray is a douche, that's what," responded Darby.
"Your cousin is not a douchebag," countered Leslie who never has anything bad to say about anyone.
"Yes he is," snapped Darby. "When I told him that you and I needed a sperm donor to fertilize one of your eggs he was interested in being our surrogate. But when I said that we were going to use a Turkey baster to impregnate you he frowned at me, then shook his head and said he wasn't gonna do none of that hippie stuff."
"And get this; he said he'd only been willing to do it because he thought he was gonna get some of your lesbian pussy."
"How lowlife is that? The scum. I wouldn't have a problem with someone fucking you if that's the only way to get you pregnant, but I don't have any interest in letting somebody use you to satisfy their kink."
Leslie crossed her arms and leaned against the kitchen counter at a loss as to what to say to her wife.
"Les, I think I know who will do this for us?" said Darby in a tone of voice that set off warning bells for Leslie. She glared at Darby before saying, "How do I know I'm not going to like what you're about to say."
"You might," suggested Darby.
"Try me," challenged Leslie.
"How about Ronnie?" said Darby.
"Your little nephew Ronnie,?" asked Leslie with a frown on her face.
"Little... Ronnie is 20 years old now," countered Darby.
"Darby he's too close to us. That'd feel like incest. Honestly I just don't see why we can't adopt."
"Because I want our child to have both of our flesh and blood, that's why." replied Darby firmly. "The last thing I want is somebody else's kid that's destined to be trouble because it's in their genes."
"Just because we share DNA with a child doesn't mean the they won't cause us problems someday." argued Leslie. "Didn't you just accuse your cousin Bobby Ray of being a douchebag and a scumbag?"
"Yep. I sure did," retorted Darby. "Cause he is. He's a lowlife too, but at least I already know that. I'm more concerned about the kid growing up to be a criminal, a ne'er-do-well, or a no account."