The Daughter In Law

When it was time to take off he put me back in my seat and buckled me in, then when they released the seatbelt light he told me to lay back and take a nap. “You’ve had a long day baby why don’t you take a nap?”

“What’re you going to do?”

“It’s just a four hour jump to New York, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay just for a few minutes.”

He pushed my seat all the way back because first class has these kick ass seats now that can turn into a bed. He threw the blanket over me, kissed my hair, and took my hand before rummaging in the back of the seat for a magazine. I held his hand so tight.

The next thing I knew he was waking me up because we were getting ready to land.

“Was I snoring?”

“No but you did drool a coupla times.” I wiped my mouth.

“Not to worry I cleaned you up.”

“You’re so full of shit.” I punched his arm and he kissed me. Hard to believe just a few short hours ago we were sitting in a parking lot close to divorce.

We grabbed our carry-ons and left the other suckers heading for baggage claim. Momma and daddy were there with two of my nephews waiting. Momma was looking sharp in her white Fox and her Breakfast as Tiffany’s shades. She gave me the once over and daddy was eyeing my red eyes, but neither of them said anything. After the hellos we just headed for the car and home.

That night we decided to take it easy because I was wiped out. Damien called home a few times but he didn’t offer any information and I didn’t ask.

After we went to bed in my old room we had a ball trying to be quiet while we made love. It was a very confusing time for me. How could this man who was so loving and kind be so blind when it came to his family? He touched my hair and face as he stroked in and out of me nice and slow. “I love you.” I started to cry again for no earthly reason because he was being so sweet and I hated and loved him more in that moment than anything. “We’re going to be fine baby okay.” I nodded my head because I couldn’t form the words.

I had the best orgasm that night; it wasn’t a Damien Spencer special but it came from the depths of my soul. It was soft and hot and sweet, and rolled through me like a wave. He covered my mouth when my screams got out of control but I bit his palm and licked it so he replaced it with his mouth. That only prolonged the sweet agony and I drenched his cock as he kept up a steady pace of in and out strokes. When he buried his face in my neck and groaned I clenched around him squeezing that last drip of goodness out of him.

He held onto me so tight that night I was almost afraid. Was he saying goodbye or something? He turned to me twice more in the night; each time was sweeter than the last. He whispered all kinds of goodies in my ear and I was lost. That sick fear I’d been feeling was slowly dissipating. No man could touch a woman like that and make promises to their unborn child if he had one foot out the door.

The next day we went shopping and sight seeing with the rest of my family. We even took a carriage ride through Central Park and ate chestnuts. We each got one of those giant pretzels with loads of mustard on it as we walked hand in hand through the streets of Manhattan. “You sure you’re supposed to be eating this stuff?” Here we go.

“Of course, what’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, I just think you should have some fruit or something.”

“I already had a banana this morning.”

“You did? I don’t remember seeing that.”

I eyed his junk and he put me in a headlock that had me squealing with laughter.

We had a fun, blissful, stress free day.

My family has weird holiday traditions. Like playing word games together while drinking eggnog or warm cider for the kids. I had to get in on the cider this year because the pregnancy police was out in full force. I’d been a bit worried with all that was going on that maybe he’d have some bad moments, but I couldn’t see where that was true. He seemed to be enjoying the ribbing from my brothers and rough housing with my nephews.

When it came time for another time-honored tradition I was hoping and praying that he’d notice the difference between this year and the last. We’d spent our first Xmas as man and wife with his family. I’d felt left out of everything since the demon and the hound of Baskerville had led every conversation, and they were all about past events that I knew nothing about. Meanwhile my family were asking him all about the military and giving him props for looking out for his country. And when he opened the one gift we were allowed on Xmas eve, I hope he noticed the thought that had gone into the lovely engraved golf clubs that my parents had got him.