Jen's Legacy.

Neither of them got much sleep that night. They stayed up until two in the morning, sitting in their nightclothes, talking and drinking warm milk this time.

Claire had even let her gran help out with the first of the photo albums containing all of those photographs from Royce’s phone, nearly all of them of Jen and Royce, with just a few of both of them where someone else had taken the photograph, or they’d set it on a timer. At the very end, were a few he had taken of Claire, but they were much more revealing of the what the pair of them were getting up to, and doing with each other, so were kept separate; destined for inclusion in that other album. There were others, 'selfies' and candid shots of the pair of them coupling on that suspension bridge, and then others with her stretching out, looking down at herself there, and letting Royce dribble from her vagina into the gorge, as they laughed with each other, and many more like that, and even of him going into her again on that bridge. How she hadn't dropped her camera had amazed her.

While she had been distracted, from time to time, her grandmother had seen some of that other album too, and had to smile. They were a blend of photographs taken from both Claire’s phone and his, as though neither had been aware that the other was photographing them when they had. Most of them were very candid shots, showing both of them, very often without clothing at all. There were others from her gran’s phone too; those in that motel room which Claire had taken possession of.

Mrs. Prescott was even aware of snippets of movie footage that Claire had posted onto her computer, but she wouldn’t ask to see those. There would be a time…. She knew Claire’s passwords.

They still had difficulty sleeping after that. Mrs. Prescott constantly went over that interview in her mind, and what Claire had told her about being convinced that she was pregnant already and carrying twins!

Claire was too excited to sleep, knowing that Royce would soon be with them, and she could show him what she had done with those photographs, and then would find some way for them to be alone with each other. Could she survive that long without him?

What should she wear?

He’d only ever seen her in that shirt, sometimes; rarely, with shorts, and apart from that, almost invariably naked for the early and later parts of their day, and when they had made love, of course.

She preferred being naked with him, and seeing the obvious pleasure that her body gave him, with him constantly coming back to her breasts, or to kiss her and them, and to touch anywhere and everywhere the fancy took him, but in the house her gran would be watching her. Except for that, she would have greeted him like that; naked, as he walked through the door, and seen what his predictably explosive response would be.

She settled for a pleated skirt and a blouse, and of course she would have to wear something under those, dammit, with her gran supervising everything!

No make-up!

She didn’t bother with that, but her hair would always be a mess until she let it grow longer.

But how would he be dressed? She had seen him only in shorts and shirt, or naked, and what a shock that had been for her at first, not sure what his intentions with her would be. It didn’t matter. He would be here soon, and that was all that mattered.

“If he arrives early, I’ll make us lunch, and if not, then we’ll be together for dinner. We’ll just have to see when the hospital can let him go. I left a message for them to give me a call just before he leaves. He’s still doing his rounds now, though he’s no longer required in surgery. God knows how much sleep the poor man got.” He was not likely to get much here, either.

The hours dragged on as they waited impatiently, hour after endless hour, and then a call came in on her gran’s phone about two in the afternoon.

At last!

“He’ll be here in an hour or less.” She checked Claire over, liking what she saw. Her granddaughter had become a woman. She was conscious of it now coming from within, whereas only her developing... no, fully developed body, had proclaimed it before.

“Yes. The poor man is in for a surprise I would say, considering how he last saw you.”

Better not go there, back into the Motel room.

Claire had been dazed, sitting on the bed, naked, looking magnificent, but also much the worse for wear in another direction, and the punishment her vagina must have received for her to be open and leaking like that…? And not giving a damn about any of it!

“I’ll see to getting dinner. He must have neglected himself that way, so we can at least feed him up again. I’ll stay well out of your way.” She understood what the priorities would be between Claire and him when he walked through their door and they would want no witnesses for that.

So they weren’t married! So what?

“Oh, Gran. How am I to greet him? What can I say? What should I do?” Claire was all of a twitter.

Her gran smiled at her excitement. “It will come to you. I have a feeling you won’t need to say anything. He’ll let you know what will be needed.”

Men always did; the horny, wonderful sods!

Royce arrived in a taxi with the two suitcases of clothes that he’d sent on to Culver ahead of him several weeks earlier, never expecting to arrive to claim them.

Mrs. Prescott’s eyes flashed around the entryway.

“You stay right where you are with the light behind you. I’ll be in the kitchen and will stay out of your way, getting dinner. There will be just us three for dinner so there’ll be no rush about anything and nothing to spoil. Show him around the garden, the conservatory, everywhere.” Except there would be only one thing that would interest him at first. She knew about men.

Especially the conservatory; And her. That was all he’d be interested in at first.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be busy somewhere and will stay out of your way.” She smiled meaningfully at her.

“The conservatory is out of the way. Especially that farther end of it.” Her not very subtle meaning was not lost on Claire.

Royce walked in without knocking as he had been told to do, and to make himself at home, if they were not immediately there to greet him. He left his cases just inside the door, not sure what would greet him.

There had been no question of where he would be staying. He had been told that he would be staying with them, living with them as part of their family. He sensed immediate trust and understanding, despite what he had done with their daughter and granddaughter, but he did not question it. His love was sincere.

He had never met either her father or her mother, so understood that there would be some difficulties to get over at the beginning, but he was not about to hold back. There were always hurdles to be overcome. He was used to it. The best way to deal with them, was head-on.

There was only one person he really expected or wanted to see and that mattered.

It would take some moments for his eyes to adjust. He opened his mouth to call out that he was here, when he saw Claire standing in the bright light in front of the window.

He stood frozen at first, never having seen Clair in a skirt; never seeing her properly dressed at any time, or with her hair as it was now, but usually dressed carelessly, in her battered shirt and shorts, or breathtakingly, mind-shatteringly naked.

She had never seen him properly dressed before either.

He looked tired but happy as he just looked at her, and looked, and looked; rooted to the spot, unable to believe what he was seeing.

He recovered quickly enough, and walked over to her without further hesitation, sweeping her up into his arms, burying his face into her neck at first, as though he couldn’t believe that he was seeing her again like this, pulling her close to him, breathing deeply; letting all of his senses confirm what he was feeling, that he was home at last, before backing away to look at her, still saying nothing, still holding her, robbed of words.

He kissed her as though afraid of hurting her, though he felt like being much more demonstrative and expressive. That, would come.

He felt like everything he did was returned as her arms pulled him closer into her, and she raised her face to be kissed, pulling his head down to her, feeling her own temperature rising, just as she knew his was. She could feel his lower body pushing hard against her, out of control, unable not to be that way after being deprived of her wonderful body for a few days.

They still didn’t say anything. Who needed to say anything?

He held her and slowly sank to his knees in front of her, holding her hands, then raised his hands onto her abdomen, lifting her blouse out of the way, pushing his hands under it to touch her bare skin there as she pulled his head into her.

She knew what he was thinking; what he had been thinking all of the time he had been away from her; one part of his mind always conscious of her.

“How are my girls? All of my girls.” He needed to be close to them, to feel them, to speak to them directly.

His hands moved to behind her knees as he moved her blouse aside with his face, pushing into it just above the waist of her skirt and kissed her on and below her naval.

She gasped with what that did for her, setting her body trembling and her breath catching in her throat. Her nipples had hardened and she felt suddenly wet, down there, where she had only been damp before.

She wondered if he would dare slide his hands up and under her skirt. She knew he wanted to. She wanted him to. She should have left her panties off.

As though reading her mind, his hands slowly moved up her legs under her skirt as she put her legs apart, and he touched gently into the legs of her panties, tugging gently at them to get them started down, before holding firmly behind her, pulling her closer into him, kissing her again, trying to move the top of her skirt down to kiss her more personally, but her skirt did not give enough.

The mood was getting to them both. If they were not careful, they would just undress each other in the hallway and make love right there on the floor or on the hall table.

They couldn’t, of course. He had responded in a moment of weakness and had to give thought to others coming upon them like this.

Claire was blushing furiously, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and shy to be so well-loved, so obviously, yet she shouldn’t have been blushing, or feeling overwhelmed.

Royce looked up at her, smiling. “I missed my girls.”

He’d more than just missed them.

“You were always on my mind. I wondered what you were doing; what you were thinking. I wanted to call you, but I never had time, and I didn’t have my phone.”

She wondered if it was too early for there to be any sensory appreciation for those babies growing in there, of his deep voice reverberating through her belly, as though he was talking onto an inflated balloon-full of water, to communicate with them. It would be a few more months for that.

She pulled him closer and held him there before bringing him to his feet as he leaned in and kissed her again, letting her skirt fall back to where it should be. She knew what his problem was; she had felt it, could even see it pushing against his clothing. She could do something about that for him and get it out of the way between them for at least a few minutes. She checked that no one else could see him standing out so obviously as though there were a metal rod behind there. That, was for her to deal with.

Her gran had retreated as she’d said she would.

He leaned in and whispered into her ear. “I swear you look just as attractive fully dressed, my love, as you did when you had nothing on, as I best remember you.” She almost choked, hearing him say that, and her knees went rubbery again.

She took his hand firmly. She knew what was needed, and they walked with his arm around her as she led him out to the conservatory. He would be able to unwrap his present, much better out there.