Read The Anniversary Stories for Free Online

had opened her dressing gown and the flap of her nursing
bra and guided her nipple to his lips.  As though it was the most natural thing
in the world, he had latched on, his toes curling as her milk obeyed the pull
of his lips and surged from her body into his.
    The next day he had awoken
feeling a hundred times better.  He had looked at the babies with a new-found
love and marvelled that he and Helen could have created such tiny miracles
together.  And later that day when he’d held her as she breastfed Tina, he had
felt absurdly happy and content.  Tim had been the better feeder of the two and
when he’d finished with a breast there was nothing left for his dad, but Tina
always the one more willing to share, had left just enough to keep John happy. 
They had all been weaned when the twins were four months old so that Helen
would be ready to go back to work two months later.
    “John?” Florence’s
questioning voice brought him back to the present.
    He had been fondling her
breast rather ardently.
    “Sorry, I got a little
carried away,” he apologized and released her as he straightened.
    “Oh, don’t stop!” she
begged.  “I was just telling you that the other one was getting a bit jealous.”
    “Is it as heavy as this one?”
he asked, smiling at the absurdity of the question.
    “Heavier I think,” she
responding playing along with him.  She unsnapped the clasp of the
front-closing bra and her glorious breasts tumbled free.  “You can compare them
and see.”
    Cupping them in his hands he
closed his eyes for a moment in ecstasy.  But only for a moment.  He reopened
them and watched his hands as they moved over the honey-toned flesh.  The
contrast of her darker skin against his was surprisingly erotic.  Strangely, he
had never fantasized about making love to a Black or Asian woman.  Growing up
in a small village his sexual yearnings had been focussed on the brunettes,
redheads and the other blondes around him when not focused on Helen, the girl
next door.
    “Did you know that I read a
lot of Mills and Boons when I was younger?  I used to dream of growing up and
marrying an Englishman,” Florence confessed.  “Someone with dark hair and blue
eyes like you.  I told Helen.  She knows that I have the hots for you.”
    “Do you?” he asked and
grinned like a schoolboy when she nodded her head.
    “Sydney will be home in less
than...three hours,” Florence squinted at his watch, trying to read it upside
down.  “My mother always told me to play hard to get—make a man work before I
give him my cat, but I don’t have time for that—not this time.”
    She made to climb up onto the
kitchen table and John rushed forward hastily to lift her up onto it.
    But she placed her hand over
his mouth as he bent to kiss her.
    Surprised he drew back and
stared into her suddenly serious eyes.
    “Promise that you’ll never
tell Sydney about this,” she begged.  “If he found out that another man fucked
me, he would never forgive me no matter how hard I begged him!”
    “He will never find out,”
John promised her.  He had no intention of telling the man anything.  As a 
matter of fact the reason why he hadn’t pursued a friendship with Sydney was because the man had become tipsy after three beers and accused John of leering
at Florence.  John admitted to himself that he had perhaps looked at her more
than he should have that day he and Helen had invited the couple over for a
barbeque to welcome them to the neighbourhood.  But it had been the way her
shiny jet black hair had rippled in the sunshine; the way she had thrown her
head back and laughed out loud and unrestrained when she thought that something
was funny.  Her vivacity had made Helen and her friends seem too refined—an orchid
in the midst of English roses.  He had been about to apologize to the man when
the man had sneered and said that he wasn’t worried, though.  Florence would
never let John fuck her, he had said, because he