Who Knew 8

I first met Janet when we were both in college. She's actually four years or so younger than me, but I took a couple years off after high school, to make some money, and then went to the junior college on the part-time plan, before heading off to the big university. So by the time we met, I was a senior, and she was a junior.

We met in a class we had together, and pretty quickly, we ended up studying together fairly regularly. Frankly, I had never met anyone like her -- our personalities seemed to resonate in just about every way, from our offbeat senses of humor, to the books and music we liked, and on down the line. Before long, we were completing each other's sentences; we just 'got' each other on some really basic, fundamental levels.

I'd had other girlfriends, and Janet had had other boyfriends; neither of us was a virgin, but in meeting each other, we were encountering a level of 'psychic' intimacy that shocked both of us.

One Friday evening, my roommate was gone for the weekend. Janet was over at my apartment, and we were studying together for an exam we both had the following Monday. We ground our way through the concepts, and indulged in the uncanny way we had of 'melding' our minds. She had a unique ability to make difficult concepts transparently clear to me; it was like she instantly understood the things I was hung up on, and she could just make them instantly intelligible to me. And, often as not, I did the same for her. It was the darnedest thing, the way our minds just seemed to be on the same wavelength.

I don't know how many hours we were studying, but after a certain point, our brains were full, at least for the time being. There was no more room left for any more new information, and we both kind of got 'punchy' at the same time. We were both sitting on the floor, on opposite sides of the coffee table where we had our books and notes spread out.

"That's it!" Janet said, slamming her book shut, and lightly tossing it, Frisbee-style, across the room. "No more studying! I'm done!"

"My brain hurts!" I agreed, and I collected my books and papers to store them back in their proper place on my desk. I sauntered back to where Janet was stretched out on the floor, and sat down beside her.

"What do you want to do?" I asked. "So long as it doesn't mean I have to think. I think I pulled something in my brain."

"No kidding," she agreed. Propping herself up on one elbow, she looked at me mischievously. "I've got an idea," she said, not-very-successfully stifling a giggle.

"Okay," I said, "what's your idea?"

For several seconds, she said nothing, but continued to smirk at me puckishly. Suddenly, she sprang on top of me, her hands poking all over my ribs and neck and chest. "Tickle Fight!" she giggled, and she sought out all of my potentially most-ticklish spots -- my armpits, my ribs, my neck.

At first, I responded defensively, blocking her probing attempts, and not returning her aggression in kind. I grabbed her wrists, to restrain her from further aggression. For a few seconds, we caught our breath, still stoked on adrenaline and blowing off steam, staring wildly at each other.

Virtually simultaneously, we both came to the awareness that, in the course of our playful wrestling, I was now lying on the floor, and she was straddling me. I had the beginnings of a really fine hard-on, and her crotch was nestled delightfully against it. Slowly, the puckish mischief in her face transformed into something more like lustful desire, as she felt the hard lump in my pants pressing against herself. Her eyes flashed with raw desire as she ground her hips one solitary stroke on my concealed erection, then groaned. Then a second stroke, and a third, elicited a breathy groan from my throat.

I reached up, sliding my hands under the edge of her shirt, savoring the softness of the skin of her torso, as she continued to dry-hump me. I pulled her down, so she was lying flat against my chest, while I fumbled under her shirt to find and unfasten her bra-clasp. When her bra was unfastened, she sat up. Raising her arms, she invited me to strip her shirt and bra off over her head, revealing her beautiful breasts to my gaze. And they were beautiful -- full, firm, round C-cups, tipped with dark pink nipples that stood erect with excitement as I drank in their beauty.

"Your breasts are wonderful," I said. "Thank you."

She leaned forward again, presenting her fleshy globes in front of my face, inviting me to taste and suckle them, which I was only too happy to do. I kissed her nipples, one and then the other, which caused her to shudder in response. I cupped my hands around her breasts, savoring their firm heft, while I covered her areolae with my mouth, licking and suckling her bounteous mammaries. Janet was purring happily now at the sensations my mouth and tongue were creating in her breasts, and she resumed grinding her crotch against mine.

She sat up, and unbuttoned my shirt, stripping it off me, then running her fingers through my chest hair. Leaning forward again, she sensuously rubbed her tits against my chest, running her taut nipples through my chest fur, trailing little jolts of electricity wherever they touched me. For a long time, we simply savored the sensations of each other's naked skin sliding against our own.

"I want you," she said huskily, and immediately she slid off my groin, so as to get me out of my jeans. When she unbuttoned the waist and slid the zipper down, my pulsating erection sprang up, instantly raising a tent in my briefs. Janet pulled my jeans down, then turned her attention to my stiff, thick rod. A circle of pre-cum spread from the tip of my cock, across the fabric of my underwear. Peeling the elastic waistband out from my belly, Janet stripped my undershorts off me, leaving me completely naked before her gaze.

Tentatively, she reached out to grip my quivering manhood. "You have a wonderful cock," she breathed. "Big and hard and thick. I can't wait to have it inside me."

"And he can't wait to be inside you, either," I grinned, although it came out sounding more desperate than I intended.

"Oh god, Kevin" Janet groaned, "I want you so bad." Standing up, she stripped her own jeans and panties off herself, then she stood, presenting her naked body for my acceptance.

She was beautiful. Her full, round tits were in perfect balance with her delightful round hips. Her belly was flat and firm, and her legs were lithe and taut, bespeaking a comprehensive workout regimen. A thick bush of curly brown fur adorned her pussy-lips, which were engorged and puffy with her arousal.

I desperately wanted to eat her pussy, but we were both far too horny for any more foreplay at the moment. Instead, Janet knelt down, straddling my hips again. Raising herself up, she gripped my cock and positioned it against her cunt-lips in a sensual genital 'kiss'. We locked eyes with each other as she slowly lowered herself onto my thick pole. She was incredibly wet, and I could feel the heat from her pussy enveloping me as she took an inch of my length into herself, and then two.

"God!" she exclaimed. "You feel so GOOD inside me! You're filling me up with your big, hard cock! Oh, yessss!"

When I was all the way inside her, and I could feel her bottomed-out on my pubic bone, Janet slowly ground her hips in little circles, savoring the sensations of my cock inside herself. I could feel the tip of my cock stirring the deepest corners of her vagina.

For a long time, we didn't thrust at all -- we just held ourselves together, pressing for the deepest, firmest, most intimate contact that we could create between our bodies, grinding side-to-side, and in little circles. I gripped Janet's ass with the palms of my hands, and pulled her even more tightly onto myself, if such were even possible. I wanted badly to come, and send my semen surging into Janet's depths, but I wanted to savor the deep connection between our bodies, and to prolong the sensations, even more. I took deep, relaxing breaths, to back down just a bit from the brink of orgasm, but I stayed hard inside her, churning and grinding my thick prong into her depths.

I don't know how long we mated like that, but finally, Janet began groaning more insistently, and ground herself on my erection at an ever-increasing tempo. I matched her rhythm as best I could, and thrust my hips up off the floor, driving urgently into the sensual depths of her vagina.

"Oh god, Kevin," she cried out. "Oh god, I'm coming! I'm cooo-"

Before she could finish the last word, her body began to twitch violently, squirming and writhing as her orgasm overtook her. Her pussy clenched tightly around my shaft, and soon I was flying on the wings of my own climax. I was shouting and grunting, and Janet was moaning and wailing, and huge surges of my cum were gushing out the end of my cock, into Janet's womb, as we rolled and writhed in ecstasy together.

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed, once I'd begun to catch my breath. "I've never come like that! You, my love, are the best, most exciting lover I've ever had!"

"Ditto!" she agreed, still gasping for breath.

In her post-orgasmic bliss, Janet fell on top of me, and for a long time afterward, we simply lay together, purring and stroking each other. Even as it softened, my cock stayed inside her, and Janet sensually clenched her cunt-muscles on it from time to time. I slowly ground my hips in little circles, still savoring our intimate genital contact.

After a while, I could feel myself starting to get hard again, inside Janet. I felt her pussy-walls giving way as my organ thickened and lengthened again, without ever having left her inner chamber.

Janet gave a start as she felt my rampant manhood growing inside herself again. "You're getting hard again? Right inside me?"

"Evidently," I grinned. My mind reeled at the wondrous sensations inside Janet's cunt -- my cock was throbbing with a delightful, happy buzz from being snugly nestled inside her warm, moist cavity. I could feel the cum I'd previously deposited inside her, oozing out along my shaft, and onto my balls, as I continued to expand into her. Instinctively, at a level below conscious thought, I began to grind my hips up into Janet.

She groaned at the sensations, and quickly matched my rhythm, grinding herself back and forth, up and down, in and out on my stiff, assertive cock. "Oh god," she moaned, "you're fucking me twice. My god, I'm gonna come again!"

I'd just shot into her a short while earlier, so I could just keep happily fucking away, without an orgasm clamoring for immediate attention. Soon Janet rolled her head back; her jaw went slack, and her hips were a blur as she approached her second climax with a high-pitched gasping wail. "Oh shit!" she cried. "Oh god, yes! Ohgodohgodohgod. . ."

My cock happily absorbed all the good vibrations that Janet was giving it, yet without coming. When Janet had recovered from her orgasm, she felt me still hard inside her. I thrust up into her again, signaling my intention to keep fucking her until she'd had enough.

On and on we fucked like that, my cock staying hard inside her, buzzing happily from the wet friction of her cunt-walls along its length, while she went up and down to one orgasmic peak after another. Finally, she was near exhaustion, rolling her head from side to side as she crested one more climactic wave. "Come with me," she gasped. "Give me your cum."

By that point, I was starting to get tired myself, so I mustered up the last of my endurance, and drove myself up into Janet's core, straining to touch her deepest center with my cockhead, and in short order, I was coming into her again. Great spasms wracked my body, and my thick, hot cum spurted out of me, into Janet, in time with the orgasmic tremors of my body.

"OOOOoooohhhh," Janet moaned. "OOOooohhh, you're coming inside me. . . I can feel your warm, sweet cum flowing into me. OOOooohhh, yesssss. . ."

Once again, she fell onto my chest, and this time, there was no 'penile revival'. We lay together, stroking and nuzzling and kissing each other, until we finally re-entered the earth's atmosphere.

"No one," stated Janet, "has ever made me come like that. You, sir, are a fabulous lover.

"Well, I've never done anything like this before, either. I think YOU'RE the fabulous lover, for pulling something like that out of the likes of me."

"Well, whoever is to blame," she laughed, "that was the most incredible sex I've ever had."

"I think we agree on that."

*****

Janet spent that entire weekend with me at my apartment, and we made love as often as we could, saving aside enough time to study while we waited for my next erection to arrive. Even sexually, it seemed, she and I just had this amazing, uncanny 'resonance' with each other.

We got married just after I graduated, and I went to grad school, picking up my Master's degree in the time it took Janet to finish her Bachelor's. A couple months before graduation, Janet became pregnant with our first child, a little sooner than we'd planned, but we were ecstatic that our love (and, let's be candid, lots and LOTS of sex) had taken the concrete form of a child, made from the living substance of the two of us.

When our son Jack was born the following winter, I was endlessly fascinated to look at him, and note that little things, like the shape of his nose, or a peculiar swirl in his hair, were just like similar features that I had. And he had other features that were just as obviously inherited from Janet.

Three years later, we had a daughter, Sarah, and again, it was simply fascinating to see the traits that she had obviously gotten from Janet, and the ones she'd obviously gotten from me.

The births of my children were even more awe-inspiring for me, on a deeper, personal level. You see, I was adopted as a newborn infant. So I'd spent my whole life without any conscious awareness of my genetic endowment. My three-year-old son, and his newborn sister, were the first people I'd ever known in my life who were genetically related to me.

One day, I was rocking Sarah to sleep, and contemplating the miracle of this baby girl, made from her mother and me, when suddenly, a thought struck me. If my kids have gotten various physical and mental traits from Janet, or me. . . then, how had those traits come to me? Obviously, we knew Janet's parents, and it was clear how much she looked like her mom, or had her dad's athletic ability. For me, though, those questions referenced a blank page. I dearly loved my adoptive parents, the Schmidts, and was utterly grateful for the way they'd raised me. But they simply didn't have any genetic information to give me.

I mulled it over in my mind, over a period of a few weeks, then talked it over with Janet. Then I went to my parents, to think through the idea of searching for my birth-mother. I wasn't sure what my parents would think, but they were actually quite agreeable. "Just don't change the name I gave you," my dad admonished, in his gruff way. I assured him I wouldn't.

I won't bore you with all the details of the search, but suffice it to say that I was surprised by how quickly I was able to find her, starting from the adoption order my parents had filed away, and the name of the agency that had handled the adoption. Within just a few months, I knew who my birth-mother was, and where she lived. Her name was Andrea Mills, and she lived in Oregon, far away from Wisconsin, where I'd been born and raised. Evidently, she'd wanted to 'get out of dodge' after I was born. She'd been 19 when I was born, so me being in my late 20s, she was still only in her 40s. She'd never married, or borne any other children.

*****

I picked up the phone and dialed the number I had for her.

"Hello?" a woman's voice answered.

"Is this Andrea Mills?"

"Yes, this is Andrea."

It was her. After nearly three decades, I was hearing her voice! I introduced myself, citing the date of my birth, which, of course, was seared into her brain.

Sniffles, and sounds of weeping, came from the other end of the line. "I always hoped this day would come," she sobbed. "And now it has. I have missed you so much. Thank you for finding me."

She continued. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"Forgive you? What on earth for?"

"For giving you away."

"Giving me away? You gave me a life and a family! Even my adoptive parents told me that you gave me to them because it was the best thing you could have done! Heavens, I've always known that you -- whoever you were -- gave me for adoption, because it was best for me."

"That's very gracious," she replied, through sniffles, "and your parents are very wise."

We spoke on the phone for over two hours. It was like we couldn't get enough of each other -- just let me hear your voice a few minutes more. By the time we finally hung up, I was already making plans to fly out west to visit her.

The weeks between that first phone call and my flight were a whirlwind. Almost daily phone calls, and packets of mail, mostly containing photos, flew back and forth between us. Looking back, I'm grateful to Janet, because my birth-mother obsession was leaving more than a fair share of the daily family responsibilities with her. She sensed, though, and quite correctly, that this was pretty much of an earthquake in my life, and virtually instinctively, she was happy to pick up my slack. I married a great woman.

On the day I flew out, I kissed Janet and the kids good-bye at the airport, promising to return in five days. Andrea and I had agreed that this first visit should be between the two of us; she would meet Janet and the kids after that. . .

*****

The plane landed, and I found my way through the airport to pick up my luggage. While I was idly waiting for my bags to arrive, I spotted a striking strawberry-blond, forty-ish woman who looked like the face I'd seen in the photos Andrea had sent me. She recognized me about the same time, and came running across the floor to me, practically jumping onto me and squeezing me in a tight neck-lock, not letting go for what became quite a long time.

"My god, Kevin," she gushed, wiping a tear from her eye, "it's so good to finally see you. And touch you. We are never going to lose each other, ever again."

"Right," I said, softly. "I am so happy to finally meet you in person."

We loaded my bags into her car, and she took me to her home, nearly an hour's drive from the airport. The whole way there, I was intently scoping out her face for the features we had in common, that were her genetic endowment to me. It was really true, I thought to myself -- I came from this woman. I lived in her womb (and, as it turned out, I was the only one who ever had), and her DNA marked every cell in my body. So many of those things that so fascinated me about my own children, I now saw in her. I hadn't fallen out of the sky -- I'd been born like anyone else, and this was my mother. My head spun with the realization.

It was late afternoon when we arrived at her house, and she poured me a glass of wine while she prepared dinner. I felt almost like a kid, watching his mother cooking dinner, just hanging with her, and talking about my life, where I'd been and what I'd done.

Dinner was amazing -- "I'm a pretty good cook," she said, proudly, and I could only agree. Afterward, she poured us both glasses of wine, and we sat in her living room. There was a large picture window with an awesome view of the mountains.

We sipped our wine silently for a couple minutes before Andrea spoke.

"I suppose I should tell you about how you were conceived," she finally sighed.

"I think I'm familiar with the general concepts," I said.

"Well," she replied, "You were conceived at the same time I lost my virginity. But," she continued, "I want you to know that you weren't the product of a momentary lust. I loved your birth-father -- Tom -- and I think he loved me, too."