The Road Less Traveled – Epilogue
I stared at the white plastic stick for what seemed an eternity, and bit my lower lip. Gabe was in the front of the RV, the TV playing some Christmas movie off of Direct TV. Knowing him, it was probably one of the Santa Clause movies with Tim Allen. I had no idea how to tell him about those two little pink lines staring remorselessly back at me.
With things became sexual in the middle of the summer, I made excuses for not getting on the pill; He’s just twelve. His cum is clear and watery. He’s not making any sperm yet. And maybe that was true for the first few months. But over the past couple of months, as he’s added another inch in height and become a bit more endowed below the belt, the clear cum clouded up and grew thicker and apparently more potent.
I chuckled as I opened the cabinet under the sink and buried the stick in the trash can. I was so fucked up. But, if I had it to do all over again, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. There was nothing I loved more that Gabe sliding his six inches into me, owning me, dominating me. Cumming in me. And even though I knew it was the height of idiocy, something stirred within me, knowing my twelve-year-old lover put life inside me.
Under my breath, I muttered, “I guess I’ll need to get on birth control.”
Then I realized I was already on nature’s perfect birth control; I couldn’t get any more pregnant that I was already. For the next eight months, Gabe and I could fuck until I couldn’t any more. It’s not like I could put the horse back in the stable. That’s when I realized my Catholic upbringing was a real thing and some things had stuck. I couldn’t kill the life growing inside me. The women in my books, when they faced similar crises, did whatever was expedient for the plot. Despite the fantasies Gabe and I lived almost nightly, I was a bit surprised I couldn’t bring myself to do likewise. It felt wrong.
Of course, that brought another chuckle. What a tangled web I was weaving. I knew that society would judge me harshly for bedding a boy who, by birth and blood, was my nephew. But society didn’t know the bond we shared. I couldn’t predict the future, but I couldn’t see a future without him. I shook my head, maybe society would judge me harshly. But my research for my stories showed human history was filled with far worse ills than two people following their hearts.
I would tell Gabe. He deserved to know. But not now. There would be time enough later to let him know he was going to be a daddy. I flushed the toilet and joined him on the sofa.
His eyes lit up as sat next to him. His voice cracked as he spoke. It had been doing that a lot lately, “Check it, Syd. Have you seen Give the Devil His Due’s ranking on Amazon today?”
He spun his laptop around. The sultry artwork showed less flesh than I liked, but compromise was necessary if I wanted to publish with Amazon, the prudes. He added, “Look at your rating!”
Just above the cover was that coveted Amazon Best Seller badge. I turned the laptop around and snuggled against Gabe as I scrolled down the screen to where Amazon displays a book’s rating. The book was rated number one in women’s romance fiction, and number five on the whole Kindle store. I swore, “Holy shit! That’s incredible.”
The book had only been out for a week, already it had amassed over a hundred reviews, most of them five stars. Gabe tabbed over to the kindle reports website and clicked on the sales of the past seven days.
Because of some strategic marketing on my virtual assistant’s part, we had notified everyone on my mailing list the day the book went live. That strategic move brought in over fifteen thousand sales on the first day alone. Enrolled in Kindle Unlimited too, where I was paid by the page read, there were more than a million page reads just on day one. Of course, the book clocked in at just under four hundred pages based upon the wonky formula Kindle uses to count pages.
The rest of the week was just an upward trajectory of both sales and page reads. Gabe summed it up, “See, Syd. Seven days and over one-hundred-twenty-thousand sales. And in KU, you’ve got twelve million page reads.”
I whistled appreciatively. My retail price for my books was just four bucks; well, technically, three dollars and ninety-nine cents. For the most part, Amazon pays me seventy percent in royalties, with a download fee that amounts to about seven cents per book.
The nice thing about the kindle reports is that with the click of a button I could look at November’s numbers. The slide had reduced my monthly sales to six thousand books and their Kindle Unlimited equivalent. Sure, lots of authors would give their ovaries for those numbers. But compared with where I started almost six years ago, it was discouraging.
Not any more. I bent Gabe’s face around and kissed him, “And we still have three books to release in this series.”
He grinned when the kiss ended. “You’re rocking it. I wish my book had sold like yours.”
I tousled his auburn hair, “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, Gabe. In one month, you’ve sold over two thousand copies. That puts you way ahead of most writers.”
He leaned in and gave me a quick peck on the lips, “That’s okay. I’m really glad your book is killing it.”
Our chemistry was such that I could look into his eyes and see he meant every word. “Thanks, sweetie. Is that the baked alfredo I smell?”
He slipped away, and pulled a small casserole from the oven, “You looked tired earlier, so I put this in the oven.”
I felt pampered as Gabe dished the fettuccini alfredo onto a couple of plates and carried them outside, “Let’s watch the sun’s reflection off the water before it goes down.”
Our lounge chairs sat on a pristine golden beach, just a few dozen paces from the Gulf of Mexico. We packed up and left Colorado a few days after the first snow of the season, winding our way south and east. We were just about as far south as one could go and still be in the US; camping in a county park just outside of the town of South Padre Island. Sure, we were boondocking, but the county’s rules were a lot less strict than any of the federal parks. We’d been there for a week already, and we had no plans to leave until after the new year.
Although the sun set to the west, which was landward, it still sent flashes of reds, yellows and oranges reflecting off the water as it slowly ebbed below the horizon. When the ocean water darkened as the sun disappeared, I said, “That was pretty. You want to walk on the sand?”
Gabe was out of his chair and came over and pulled me from mine, “Sure, Syd.”
He disappeared into the RV with the plates and came out with a blanket we used at the hot springs draped over his shoulder. Even though it was Christmas time, the breeze off the water was just warm enough for him to go around in just his shorts. Although even this far south, the weather could change, forcing pants and a shirt on his gorgeous frame.
We were only a few yards into our walk when he said, “I still miss Mom. But, Syd, I’m really glad she picked you for me to live with. This has been so much fun.”
I squeezed his fingers, “Even the schoolwork?”
He shrugged, “It’s not that bad. And now that I know what to expect with it, the teacher thinks I can finish a year, maybe even two early if I work hard.”
“If that’s what you want, sweetie. You sure you don’t miss your friends in school?”
He let go my hand and put his arm around my shoulders, “I’ve got my best friend in the world right here. And she’s fucking hot!”
I chuckled. Would he still think so when I’m nine months pregnant? “You’re biased, sweetie. You’re just saying that because you love fucking me. You’ll grow up and want to see if other women are as good a fuck.”
Despite the darkness falling, I could tell his face was scarlet. He squeezed me, “When I turn eighteen, I was wondering, could I stay?”
Despite the deep well of feelings Gabe stirred inside me, I tried not to get my hopes up. There was just too much of a risk as he grew up, he would grow tired of what we had together. I tried to not dwell on that. I nodded, “Of course, Gabe. You can stay with me for as long as you want.”
He pulled me along, our feet digging into the wet sand, “You always say that, Syd. I know you’ll be thirty when I’m eighteen. Lots of people that age, um, they get married. Do you think…”
There was no pretense, no attempt to roleplay my fantasy. My twelve-and-a-half-year -old nephew had just asked me to marry him in less than six years. Stunned, I stammered, “You’re asking me to marry you?
He stopped, warm ocean water lapping at our feet, and turned to face me, “I know, I’m just a kid. And it’s still a long way away. But I don’t want you to meet some young, hunky George RR Martin novelist who steels you away from me.”
I took both his hands in mine, “Oh, Gabe. You’ve just described yourself. You’ve published your own fantasy novel and you’re young and hunky, if you haven’t noticed.”
I had to tilt my head slightly to reach his lips. I put everything I had into that kiss and when it ended, I whispered, “Yes.”
His eyes shot open wide, “What?”
Louder, although we were alone on the beach, “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He snaked his arms around me and kissed me, “I’m not going anywhere, Syd. I don’t know how I can know it, because I’m still growing, but I know it.”
I bubbled at the idea of being engaged to my lover. I was never more certain about my decision to have Gabe’s baby than at that moment. I was certain as he grew, Gabe would make a fine husband. I hoped I could be half the wife he deserved.
Still holding me, he cautiously asked, “Do you think they’d let us get married, Syd? I mean, I don’t think of you as my aunt. But if they knew, would they let us get married?”
You might think by reading my smut that I wasn’t a big believer in marriage that followed all the social protocols. But thinking about being with Gabe, I realized marriage was a concept that was as old as humanity. Nobody could stop us from living as husband and wife. “If you want it, sweetie, we’ll get married. No fucking minister or judge is going to stop us. We could have our own private ceremony and nobody else could stop us or keep us apart.”
Gabe’s eyes sparkled under the rising moon, “Really? So, unlike in your story about the marriage license and the bride who was already married, you don’t have to do all that legal stuff?”
“Plenty of people get married without bothering with a license from the state. It’s just between them.”
He pulled me deeper into his embrace, “I don’t want to wait. Let’s get married on our own. Have our own private ceremony. That way, you’ll know I’m never leaving you.”
Tears wet my face as I nodded, “That would make me so happy, baby.”
We moved away from the water and Gabe spread out the blanket and then we lay next to each other under the starry skies. I still had a powerful need to be dominated by him, but now wasn’t that time. Snuggling against his bare chest, I slid my hand to his shorts and unfastened them. I pushed my hand down his briefs and encountered a few short stray hairs at his base. I sighed; my boy was fast becoming a man.
Gabe responded by slipping his hand under my t-shirt and cupping a tit, caressing it. Brazenly, he raised his head and looked both ways down the beach, then pulled my shirt off and cast it aside. His tongue felt wet and hot on my nipple before he closed his lips over my areola and sucked it. For the first time, my body actually felt like I had something growing inside; the tingling surged through me just from the way his tongue and lips worked my tit, far more powerfully than ever before.
The past few months had been good to my young lover. I pushed his shorts to his knees and grabbed his cock. Not even thirteen, and already he was a full inch longer than Kyle. My fingers could still wrap around his shaft, closing around each other, but one day within the next year or two, they wouldn’t. Another tingle surged through me at the thought of taking Gabe’s seven or even eight-inch cock down my throat or into my pussy. For now, as I slid my hand up and down his shaft, I would enjoy his six inches.
Without ever missing a beat, working his mouth on my tit, Gabe’s hands pushed at my elastic yoga pants, pushing them and my panties down. I shuddered again as his finger rubbed my clit. So young, yet so experienced.
My hips bucked as I got my first O of the evening and Gabe, sensing my need, sat up and stripped and then finished undressing me. He shifted, kneeling between my legs, and leaned forward until his glans pushed through my pussy lips. Slowly, he sank into me, sliding all the way in one long, slow thrust. Another little orgasm shook me. I groaned, “Fuck me! I’ve never been so horny.”
I couldn’t be more than six weeks along, but apparently my body’s natural pregnancy hormones were at work, making little changes in my body for what was to come. And I loved it. Gabe settled over me, resting his torso, half on me, half on his elbows, “God, you feel so good.”
Slowly, with an ease that came from several months of daily practice, he rocked his hips back, dragging his cock along the walls of my pussy, only stopping when his glans was halfway out of my sopping hole. He hissed in pleasure, sliding back in until gradually, his dozen little lonely strands of pubic hair pressed into my pubic bone.
That barrier to my big orgasm was usually much higher, but like water flowing over a dam, I felt my orgasm hit me hard when he slid into again. My body shook as I came. Gabe thrust into me again, and I came again, my pussy shaking and undulating around his cock. I moaned loud enough that I bit my lip to keep from drawing anyone’s attention on the darkened beach.
Within a couple of minutes, Gabe’s hips rocked back and forth, faster and faster, slamming his cock hard against me, making me cum anew with every thrust. Then he groaned and pushed me enough to make us move up on the blanket. When his cock seemed to expand and that magical warmth of his cum splattering my insides, it brought out the most powerful orgasm yet. I wrapped my legs around his backside as he pushed and pulled just enough to keep the friction along his shaft alive as he spasmed within me. Having jacked and sucked him, I knew what his cock was doing inside. That first blast shot a powerful jet of thick, white cream, hitting my cervix. Another spasm, another rope of cum, almost as powerful as the first, covered the walls of my vagina. If it was like the last time I took him in my mouth, another smaller blast would accompany the next four spasms, before the last few dry spasms would finish Gabe’s orgasm.
He collapsed on top of me. Although he was heavier than me, it wasn’t uncomfortable. He grinned through his post orgasm haze, “I want to make love to you every day for the rest of my life.”
He made me orgasm again when he flicked my sensitive nipple. After biting back another moan of pleasure, I said, “Your cock inside me feels amazing. When you cum inside me like now, it makes me cum even harder knowing you’re putting your seed in me.”
Gabe shifted his hips, sending more tingles through me, “Do you think I’m old enough yet for my sperms to make you pregnant?”
I leaned up and gave him a kiss, “About that, my love…”
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