Lucky Pt 03

Thank you to everything who sent feedback and suggestions for Parts 1 & 2. Part 1 was written originally as practice. My first series had been absolutely slaughtered in the Loving Wives category. I needed to know if it was the genre or my writing. Hopefully, if it's a little of both, the latter will continue to improve as I get more practice.

Part 3 will wind up Jeff and Angela's story. They may appear again as secondary characters in a story that is percolating in my head.

I do discuss a couple of things in this final story that might be controversial. I'll be interested to know what you think. If you don't want to leave a public comment, please feel free to drop me some feedback. I enjoy the give and take of ideas.

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Part Three

Jeff groaned as a warm mouth descended on his cock. His hands found the hair of the woman who was sucking him so generously and held on to it. She grew more enthusiastic, her tongue and mouth one delicious tease on his erection He forced her head down harder, feeling her gag on him a little and that only made this amazing blow job even better. He hissed in his breath, feeling his climax getting closer. He felt his partner start to back off a little, as if she knew he was going to blow his load. He didn't care, he gripped her hair and held her with both hands as his cock forced its way down her throat, where his cum exploded from his shaft, his shout of completion filing the room.

He lay back, exhausted and found that feeling he had been looking for when he invited her back to his place. Utter bliss and an empty brain. Beguiling hazel eyes no longer looked back at him in his mind's eye. He was even able to picture the brunette who was licking the cum off his fast-dwindling erection.

"Goddamn, Jeff, you promised!" she whined. She was a short brunette, with large tits and great legs. He couldn't have cared if she was 90 and had one leg. She had one quality of interest to him, a hot mouth. The girl gave amazing head, which was the sole reason for her presence in his life. He had picked her up in a bar about a week after his return from his parents' funeral in Ohio. She had been back to his place several times and each time it was the same. A blow job and he was done.

"I can't help it, Greta. You're fucking amazing at that. Next time, I promise." Jeff did his best to look earnest, but they both knew he was lying.

"You say that every fucking time. What am I to you, just some hole you can cum in?" She whined again and the tone in her voice stomped on his last nerve. He hated women who whined. Whining was for little kids, not adults.

He grinned at her, his voice flat. "Actually, yeah." He smirked. "That's exactly what you are to me. You give good head. What do I need to fuck you for if you're going to suck me like that?" He shrugged. "I buy you nice dinners, good drinks. You get to ride around in my sports car and look important. You're meeting good people, going to great parties. The least you could do is suck my dick in exchange."

She reached for the bandage that was supposed to pass for a dress that she had worn this evening. Greta dressed like a hooker and he was in no doubt that a lot of dudes at the club assumed that is exactly what she was. He didn't care. Greta's mouth meant he could forget about Angela for a while. He paused for a moment to wonder if Greta was her name. Did he know her last name? He couldn't remember.

God, he was so fucked in the head.

Jeff sat up and grabbed his pants from the floor where they had landed. He pulled them on over his hips, zipping them but not bothering to button them closed. He stepped closer and helped Greta pull her dress up over her generous breasts. "There, all set," he said helpfully. "Are you taking off? I'll text you next week."

Greta looked over her shoulder at him. "Don't bother, Jeff. I've collected a lot of business cards on our dates, I'm sure I can find someone who actually likes to fuck." She went into his bathroom and used his toothbrush to brush the remnants of his cum out of her mouth. He made a mental note to throw it away before he used it.

"Okay, whatever." He smiled generously. "Good luck to you. I mean it. You're give good head. I'm sure you will make someone a very lucky man."

"Fuck you," she said succinctly. She slammed his bedroom door. He could hear her heels clicking down his stairs, then heard his front door slam as well. Jeff stood still a moment, then laughed out loud. He had minored in drama in college. She hit her marks well. She read her lines like a pro. It was an excellent exit.

"Overall," he said to the empty bedroom, "It's been a pretty good evening."

It wasn't until Jeff woke in the morning to an empty bed in an equally empty apartment that the memories of waking in Angela's bed returned. It had been the same for months now. The first few seconds, he would remain in utter contentment, dreaming of his sister's warm body next to him. He would reach out for her, ready to kiss her awake and make love to her, only to find the bed next to him empty.

Empty. That was his life since he had returned. Greta had drained his balls regularly, but he hadn't fucked her. The first time he brought her back, he tried going down on her, but after having experienced Angela's unique scent, Greta's pussy smelled terrible. He couldn't even bring himself to try it. He had fingered her to the only orgasm he had ever given her, then fucked her mouth to completion. He enjoyed the mindlessness she gave him, but otherwise he really couldn't bring himself to have sex with her or anyone else.

So why did he feel like he had cheated on Angela? Even jerking himself off felt like a desecration of what they had shared. He had become a Grade A asshole for the way he treated Greta. There was no way she could despise him more than he did himself. His father would have his hide for the way he had disrespected Greta. Dad had raised him to cherish women as his father had his mother. Jeff was rather relieved she had left him. He deserved to be dumped.

He didn't even what to think about what Angela would say. There was nothing she ever could say that would be satisfying to him. If she called him on betraying her, he would be devastated. Jeff knew that getting head from some no-name chick he picked up in a bar paled in comparison to what he had found with his little sister.

However, it would be almost worse if she didn't care. What would that mean? That their few days intense sexual passion meant nothing to her? It had been everything to Jeff. He had tried everything, including getting sodding drunk. Nothing helped, except emptying his nuts in Greta's mouth. He wasn't sure it was worth it, though. He despised the way he felt afterward. He felt ... empty.

He shifted in the bed, staring at the ceiling. He supposed it was for the best that Angela had sent him packing, too. Jeff knew that the man he was becoming didn't deserve his sweet baby sister. He ached for her, he had cried more times than he had wanted to admit. He supposed his grief for his parents was mixed up in that, but mostly he craved Angela. She was in his head, under his skin, and he supposed in his heart.

"I'm so fucked," he said to the ceiling.

His cell phone chirped. His friend Brett had sent him a text. He opened it. There was a woman in bed with him. He had a good view of her naked form and her face in her sleep. The message read, "Dude, I'm too scared to give her a good look. Is she hot or should I 'coyote ugly' my arm off?"

Jeff slapped his palm over his face. He looked closer and messaged him back. "Hot."

He put his phone on his bedside table, then walked into his bathroom for a shower. Afterward, he ate something, then went to his office to finish some work he had brought home. He was a junior partner in a large New Orleans firm. He was lucky to have gotten the job in the first place and he worked like a fiend to become the youngest partner in their history. His complete lack of family life made that possible.

Jeff knew his life was here. That didn't mean he didn't check the price of flights back to Ohio daily. He once even had the ticket booked and his credit card information entered. When it came time to finalize the purchase, he chickened out and canceled.

Angela never even called him unless it was to talk about the charities she had researched. Her voice was warm and friendly, but she didn't bring up what had happened between them. She didn't tell him she missed him. He had no idea if she even thought about their few days after the funeral at all. He didn't know if she had started dating. His mind raced. "She could be waking up with some stupid fucker right now." His fists clenched, but he forced himself to relax and calm down.

He threw himself into the pile of work he had brought home. He had an interesting case coming up, thank God. He worked for hours, stopping only to heat up some food for lunch. He went for a run afterwards, then came back and worked a little while longer. He was startled when his doorbell rang. He never had unannounced visitors. He glanced at the clock. It was after 3PM. It was a weird time for a visit.

He opened his front door to see Brett standing there, a six pack in his hand. "Dude, did you forget? We were going to watch the game?" Brett was a big dude, 6'4 with sandy blond hair and a lazy smile. He was an ass, but he was a good guy. Jeff wasn't even sure if Brett knew his name. He never called him anything but "dude" for as long as they had known each other.

Jeff ran his hand threw his hair. "Yeah, it's okay, though. I'm ready to wrap things up for the day." Brett followed him in. Typical that he only brought a six pack. Brett would be raiding his liquor cabinet in no time. He went back to his office to shut down his lap top, but as his hand reached the lid, an email announcement popped up. The name of the sender made his heart leap. It was from Angela.

He frantically grabbed his mouse, clicking on the pop-up to open the email directly. There was a file attached. Out of habit, he opened it immediately. He frowned in confusion. It was a black image with lots of white shadows all over it. "What the fuck?" he asked the room? Getting no answer, he read the email.

Dear Jeff,

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write to you. This is long overdue, but I just couldn't find the right words. The loss of Mom and Dad, it hit me harder than I had thought. My divorce with Steve is finally finished. I signed the papers last week. That was a relief more than anything. It got held up by a complication and that's why I'm writing.

I can't think of a delicate way to say this, so I'm going to just say it. I'm pregnant. I'm enclosing a picture of the ultrasound. They tell me it's a boy and I'm going to name him after Dad. Christopher is a cool name, anyway.

I don't expect anything from you. I have the money from the estate and a good job. Steve got wind of the pregnancy and challenged the paternity in court. I had to have an amniocentesis to prove that Steve wasn't the father. Had he successfully challenged the divorce, I could have lost half of the money our parents left me. Maybe I should have just let the bastard have it, but the thought of him enriching himself with their hard-won savings just enraged me.

It's taking me a long time to get to the point. This is so hard to say. You're going to be a father. Christopher is your baby. I know I told you I was protected the evening after the funeral. I had an IUD, but the damned thing was missing. No one can explain it, including the doctor who inserted it. I received a settlement from him and I've put that away for Christopher's education.

I've wanted to call you, but I chicken out every time. I will say this only once. Those few days you were here after the funeral, well, they meant more to me than I can ever express. Being with you was like magic. I cried for days after you left and I cried when I saw our son's heartbeat and you weren't there. I fell in love with my big brother and I don't know what to do about it.

I know you probably think that's sick. The speed with which you left told me that you had second thoughts about what we had started. I just couldn't let another day go by without telling the father of my child that he is loved more than he will ever know.

I've typed this so many times. Will this be the time I actually send it? Oh god, Jeff. I'm so scared. Be gentle with me.

Love,

Angela.

Jeff gasped. He read the email, then read it again. He printed out the file that he now knew what was an ultrasound picture. He squinted at it, then turned it upside down. Suddenly, he saw it. Those shadows made up a tiny face and it was sucking its thumb.

"My son," he thought, awestruck. He stood up, then sat down again. He said the words again. Then again. Then again. Tears streamed down his face as he re-read the part about Angela being in love with him. His heart squeezed. His baby sister had been going through this alone while he was getting blow-jobs from some woman whose last name he didn't even remember.

He grabbed the laptop suddenly, pulling up a travel website. It was taking too long, so he called the airline directly and got a first-class seat on the last flight out that day. He ran up the stairs, whooping and crying and laughing all at the same time. Brett came running up the stairs after him and got into his bedroom in time to see him throwing some clothes in a suitcase.

"Dude? Fuck, where are you going?" Brett was looking at him like he was crazy. Jeff supposed he probably was crazy.

"I have to go back to Ohio right away." He threw his toiletry bag into his suitcase and closed it with a bang. He grabbed his laptop case and ran back downstairs, suitcase and laptop case in hand. He shoved his laptop into its case and zipped it shut. Jeff looked around for his wallet in a panic, then slapped his own ass to discover it was in his back pocket. He checked his watch. "Fuck, I didn't shower after my run." He shoved his armpit in Brett's face. "Do I reek?"

"Dude! Oh, fuck no, you did not just do that." Brett burst out laughing. "You're fine, but what the fuck?"

Jeff took a deep breath. "I just found out that Angela is having a baby." He ran for the front door, opening it. "I have to go right away."

Brett looked confused. "I thought she was getting divorced. Did she get back with that asshole? If not, who is the father."

Jeff looked at Brett dead in the eye. He had never lied to his best friend and he wasn't going to start now. They had known each other since sharing a dorm room in college. He knew Brett wouldn't freak out. Well, at least not too much. "The baby is mine. I'm going to be a dad." With that, he got into his car, gunned the engine and pulled out of the driveway.

Brett's mouth hung open. "He fucked his sister?" Brett shook head. Then he thought about it some more and shrugged. "That's kind of hot."

Angela was in her kitchen making some dinner. She was well into her 5th month now. She had started showing, which meant she had started getting questions. Her parents were gone, so really it was just close friends and colleagues. She told them she had used a sperm donor, she figured that would end all questions. People generally got weird looks on their faces and clammed up, so apparently that plan had worked.

She checked her phone for the 15,000th time. No return email from Jeff. She wondered if he were away from all forms of email communication. She checked again to make sure she had sent it to the right email address. She had and it hadn't bounced back in any case.

"You're kidding yourself, Angela." She sighed, slicing some cheese. She couldn't get enough of cheese. Her OB told her that it was an old wives tale that cravings were to make up for dietary lapses, but she justified the cheese orgy she had been having lately by telling herself the baby needed dairy. She added several slices to ham, cheese and tomato sandwich, which she grilled. She poured herself a glass of cranberry juice, another thing she hadn't been able to get enough of lately.

She didn't pay much attention to the sound of a car pulling up outside. Condo living meant lots of car noise, after all. She jumped when her doorbell rang. Ambling over to the door, Angela was still clutching her glass of cranberry juice. The doorbell rang again, impatiently. "I'm coming, keep your pants on." Angela threw open the door, then nearly dropped her glass.

Jeff was standing there. His eyes caressed her face, then dropped down her body to her belly. He looked at it for several quiet moments, not saying a word. Angela was stunned to see a tear trickle down his face. She stepped back, allowing him space to come in. Once the door was closed, she found the cranberry juice being pulled out of her hand, then she was launched forward into her dear brother's arms.

"Oh god, Angela." Jeff was crying. She gulped, she had seen him cry after the funeral, but this was different. Why was he crying? Was he happy? Unhappy?

Jeff pulled away from their embrace, his eyes so like her own boring into her. "Is he ... is he ... is he going to be okay?" He gulped, his entire universe hanging on the balance for her answer.

"Okay?" Angela asked, confused. "The baby? He's fine. He's right on target for his gestational age. He's got all his fingers and toes. Because I had to have the amniocentesis, I know he doesn't have any genetic abnormalities. He's going to be beautiful, so long as he doesn't get Dad's red hair."

Jeff sagged with relief. He sat down on her couch, buried his face in his hand and pulled himself together. He finally lifted his head. "You have no idea how terrified I've been since I got your email."

Angela sat on the couch next to him, but a good foot away. "There's no reason to have been. I can take care of him. I confided in my obstetrician about the fact the father is a close relative. She referred me to a genetics counselor. I did all sorts of tests. I'm not a carrier for any major recessive disorders. Between that and the amniocentesis, I think it's safe to say everything will be fine." She cleared her throat. "I've always wanted a child, he might be my only chance. I had to keep him. I will love him no matter what. He's your son, how could I not?"

Jeff closed the distance and pulled her into his arms, his mouth coming down on her lips. He didn't just kiss her, he took possession of her, body and soul. He consumed her frantically, her lips, her cheeks, her eyes. His hands came up to cup her cheeks and he kissed her some more. Angela thought she could hear him mumbling something, then it became louder. "I love you, I love you, I love you." He said it over and over again.

Angela froze, then she did something she never thought she would do at this moment, no matter how many times she dreamed of it. She hit her brother in the arm. Hard. "You love me? You love me? Why in the fucking Christ did you go back to New Orleans, then? You fucking killed me when you left me like that."

Jeff looked at her agape. "I wanted to stay so bad, but when you didn't seem to want to talk about what was happening, I thought you wanted it to be a temporary thing. It killed me to go. I wanted to beg you, Angie Bean."

Angela hung her head low. "I thought you were going to stay. When you announced so casually that you were leaving, I thought you were ready to head back to your life in New Orleans."

They stared at each other. How had they managed to fuck that up so royally? Jeff gulped, remembering Greta. Should he tell her? Angela must have recognized the look on his face and held up a hand. "I kept the knowledge of your son from you. Anything you might have to tell me pales in comparison to that. Jeff, I don't want to know. Whatever you're about to say, keeping it to yourself will be your punishment. Please, honor me in this."