A Loving Family - Samantha's Story - Part Two
A Loving Family – Samantha’s Story
Chapter Four - Ecstasy and Heartbreak
Maggie had sweet talked the school Headmistress into a two week leave of absence for her daughter, saying that as Samantha wanted more conversational French, and they wanted her to pursue French studies at college; and as her father was soon to be busy with Book Fairs and Conventions and be away from home during the school closure, could they PLEASE take her from school during June? With a doubtful sniff and a resigned shrug which said “well that’s as good an excuse as I’ve had this Semester,” the Head acceded.
The car ferry crossing from Portsmouth , England , to St Malo, France was a slow overnight sailing at 8 p.m. and disembarking at 8 a.m. Both families were driving their own 4x4’s - ideal for luggage - and of course cases of wine on the return journey! Both families, too, would be able to explore and visit without having to be constantly together, and of course would allow for Samantha’s own teen wishes.
Sleeping cabins had been reserved with Maggie and Harry having two double bunks in theirs. After exploring the cavernous vessel and standing on the open deck feeling the soft breeze of a gentle passage on her eager face, Samantha was persuaded to bed, her parents promising to join her very soon.
She couldn’t sleep. It was impossible to sleep. It was much too new and exciting and adventurous. It was too warm and Sammy lay in her nightie and panties on top of her bunk.
The cabin door was quietly opened and her mother’s voice hissed “Ssshhhh she’s asleep.” The door of the tiny shower room was opened and partially closed. Her parents used the bathroom, cleaned their teeth and as her mother modestly undressed in there, her father stripped off in the cabin. Sammy’s peeking eye saw him close beside her, naked. Saw the manliness of him filling her vision in the small gap between them. Her mother emerged to be wrapped in her husband’s arms. There were the soft sounds of quickened breathing, and her mother’s nightie was lifted by a male hand feeling for her. A gasp. A woman’s hand now in Sammy’s view, fingers opening to take her dad in hand. The confident experienced stroking of that hand. Samantha’s eyes grew wide as she saw her father swell in her mother’s skilled fingers. So close to her. If she reached out she could touch it.
Her mother’s whisper, “Wait, Harry, let me turn the light off.” Darkness. The creak of their bed. A soft moan.
Samantha listened to the rhythm of love, her hand inside her panties, touching, stroking, the need for release building as she heard her mother’s stifled sounds. There was a tight, throttled back “Yes, now.” A low grunt, a man’s noise. Samantha touched her sensitive clit. Her hips lifted as she joined her parents in explosive climax. Then the quiet of the cabin with only slowing gasps of pleasure from both bunks. Samantha slept, her hand resting over her maiden’s hairs, her finger over her slit.
They disembarked promptly at 8 a.m. with Uncle Danny and Aunt Emily leading and quickly threaded their way out of the ancient fortress city. The roads were quiet, their route arrow straight down to Rennes . The ring road led them easily around the industrial city and on the road to Nantes . South of Nantes they joined the péage, the tolled autoroute, on which they halted for a bathroom and coffee break. The rest stops (Aires) were a delight to Samantha’s eyes. Landscaped, lawned and tree dotted; created to give visual pleasure and physical rest to travellers.
At last after five hours they arrived at Royan. Uncle Danny had sent for street maps and they threaded their way around the outskirts of town and very soon picked up small modest signs to their holiday site. Then they were there.
Their chalet was perfect. A small bedroom with twin bunks and, adjacent, a larger room with double bed. Bathroom with shower and an open plan arrangement of kitchen, sitting room and dining area with an exterior covered deck with plastic table, chairs and loungers completed their home for the next two weeks. Her uncle and aunt had the next chalet to them.
While dad unloaded and mum unpacked, Sammy was sent to the site shop to buy milk and fresh bread. She arrived back to find everything expertly put away by the ladies and the two men missing. “Gone to that huge store, the hypermarché we passed a couple of miles back” explained her mum. “They won’t be long and we can all relax then.”
The men appeared, beaming, and unloaded onto the table on the deck, French cheeses, Normandy butter and bottles of red and white wine, the white already chilled from the cold counter of the hypermarché. Corks were drawn and wine poured, plates were laid. To Samantha’s complete disgust, her dad produced a bottle of Coke.
“Oh nooooooo” she wailed … “Not COKE! Daddy we are in FRANCE now!”
Harry looked a question at his wife, who, with a tiny smile on her lips, nodded and said “Just ONE. White. And sip it Samantha, don’t gulp it down like lemonade.”
On their first full day, to please Samantha after their long voyage, they went to the huge beach and played games. The weather was perfect and dad bought a beach tent with extended canopy so they could lie in shade. Over the following few days they began to explore the area, walked the forest paths, visited the oyster beds, and went to the zoo. They visited Bordeaux to their south, that centre for vineyards of exquisite quality, and toured the cool cellars with massive oaken vats in which the wine was matured; drove north to La Rochelle , the old port with its battlements protecting the harbour from invaders; went east to the town of Cognac and visited the cellars, buying vintage brandy.
At the beginning of their second week they returned to the beach. The men strolled in the opposite direction to the females around a jutting headland, while the three girls walked onto the wide long beach . The two ladies looked in all directions - the sands were practically deserted so early in the season - and after laying out their beach towels Maggie took off her bikini top and covered her breasts with sunscreen. “Sammy?” her mother questioned, “do you want to be topless? There’s no-one anywhere near.” Samantha gulped and nervously shook her head.
Emily quickly peeled off her own top and Sammy saw both older women, their breasts free in the refreshing air, their nipples a soft maroon now stiffening to the sea breeze. She took her courage in both hands and pulled her top over her head. She knew she was blushing scarlet, her hands nervously dithering at the temptation to cover herself in front of her aunt.
Her mother calmly passed her the sun lotion “Here use this. Put plenty on. Rub it well in” and went back to massaging the protection onto her own breasts. “Do my back for me, darling, then I’ll do yours.” The three females helped each other then lay face down on their towels, relishing the warmth of the June sun on their backs. Samantha relaxed and dozed.
“Hey round that cliff back there, it’s a nudist beach. Just two couples on it.” Her dad’s voice startled Samantha awake. She lifted her head looking for her top; it was out of reach. Her mum and aunt lay still, one eye looking at their men. “So what?” Emily asked.
“Well … well Danny and me thought we could all go there and get some sun.”
“We’re getting sun here” said Emily.
“Round that cliff, Em, you can get even MORE sun” chipped in Danny.
Emily sat up and Samantha swallowed as she saw her unselfconsciously letting the two men see her. Her dad had a grin and a twinkle in his eyes as he asked “Maggie?”
Her mother sat, letting her uncle see her naked breasts. “Not sure” she said. “Sammy might feel shy about this with you two ogling her.”
“You know we don’t cover up at home and I’ve seen Sammy in all her beauty. So … ?” said Harry.
Danny said “Look I didn’t mean to embarrass Sammy so forget it. Sorry Sam. Let’s forget it. But Em ... you and I could go round there.”
“OK” said Emily, “I’ve never done this before but we’re a long way from home so why not? See you back at the chalet girls.” She rose, collected her beach things and they walked hand in hand towards the nudist beach.
Samantha was trying to decide what to do. She was making the families split up just because she was shy of her favourite aunt, but especially her favourite uncle, from seeing her private places. After all, as Aunt Em had said, they were a long way from home. It was true her dad had seen her naked. Soooooo?
“Mum, is it ok if I … if you and Dad want to go … I mean … I will if it’s OK with you and Dad. I don’t mind.”
“Samantha only if YOU want to. You must NOT do it to please anyone else but yourself. Dad and me are quite happy to sunbathe here. You have to feel comfortable with this. You have a lovely figure now … one to be proud of. We are all family. It’s up to you, but it really is OK with me whatever you want to do.”
“I will then” and she stood, her young breasts uncovered. “Oh. But Mum. In case anybody comes on this beach while we go there is it ok if I wear my ‘kini top?”
Her mother smiled and hugged her. “Of course darling.”
Once around the headland the men set up the canopies, the ladies laid out the beach towels and Maggie and Em took off their bikini panties. Samantha was flustered, not sure what to do until her mother held a towel in front of her while she stripped. She lay face down, blushing to her breasts and closed her eyes, unaware of the bewitching sight she presented to the men with her tight young cheeks, her relaxed thighs revealing the split of her feminine pouch, the enchanting gap between her legs displaying her hidden secrets.
She cautiously peeked, eye almost closed, and saw her dad stepping out of his shorts, his maleness fat. Aunt Em bent over in front of him to put her kini into her beach bag and as he stared at her, erotically revealed, Sammy saw him lengthen and stiffen as she had seen happen in her mother’s fingers those few days ago. There was suddenly the familiar tension in her lower tummy, a tingling between her legs as she saw his response. Her dad licked dry lips and glanced at his daughter and was immediately hard, rigid with sudden desire. Uncle Danny came into her view; his hand stroked the familiar ass of his wife, a finger sliding along her sex.
“Stop that” she hissed, and nodded at Sammy. Uncle Danny looked and he too responded to the sight of the young girl.
Samantha was damp. Subconsciously she was responding to the stimulus of the men. The tension inside her was now a tight ache, the tingling was a demanding need to be touched. “Ohgod” she thought “I will cum in a minute. What could she do?”
The sea. That’s it. Go in the sea. Surely that would cool her? She stood and the men were treated to her nudity, their eyes drawn to her maidenhair not quite covering the V of her sex, flicking to her taut young breasts with tiny hard thrusting nipples. She tried to walk naturally to the sea and as she went the men stared after her.
“You two are the absolute limit” said Maggie. “The poor girl seeing those two great things sticking out at her. You both need a cold shower.”
“Not me” said Danny. “Em there’s a little cave just behind us. Why don’t you and me just … ermmm?”
Em gave him a wicked grin. “If Maggie takes Harry to cool off in the sea, what’s wrong with here? It’s nice in the sun.”
Maggie giggled and stood, and taking hold of her husband’s cock she pulled him towards the sea. “Come on then. You won’t be right ‘til you get rid of this.” She walked seductively towards the sea, laughing as she saw her hubby’s cock waggling like a divining rod in search of hidden moisture as he went with her.
The sun warmed sand was beneath Maggie’s feet, the still air warm on her body, and she cheerfully reached the lapping waves and walked in. “Christ it’s COLD. It’s bloody freezing” she exclaimed, backing away from the glinting blue water. “You can go in and do something with THAT” she said, pointing at Harry’s cock. “Me I’m going back to ...” then paused as she saw Emily, legs wide, Danny moving over her. “Oh well, I’ll walk along the beach for a bit while those randy buggers get it off” and she walked along the edge of the sea, kicking at the wavelets.
Sammy was jumping up and down in the water, uncovering her breasts with each leap. Her dad had just reached her when she stumbled and disappeared under the water. She slipped as she spluttered to the top and Harry reached out to steady her, his hands grasping her waist. He pulled her to him, holding her safely, suddenly realising her back was towards him. As he held her his rampant cock poked at her back. She was unresisting as he held her close, feeling his hardness hot on her in the cold water. A hand moved up, under her breast. Over it. Palm grazing over a nipple. Electricity flashed to her already swollen clit. She took his other hand and guided it to her need, holding his finger to her button. She humped his finger, the ache expanded and she exploded in his arms. “Daddyyyyyyyyyyyyyy yes, yes, yes.”
Her legs gave way and he held her close, supporting her as the violence of her orgasm calmed. Her chest was shuddering, her whole body trembling. Still his hand cupped her breast, feeling her thudding heart. Still his hand held her between her legs feeling the heat from her sex on his fingers.
His breath was soft on her ear as he whispered “Darling. Baby. Daddy’s sweetest girl. Are you ok now? Go and join Mummy I’ll wait here for a minute or two.”
“But Daddy it’s still hard for you I can feel it on me. Will you be ok? Can I help or anything? If you show me I will try. Honestly. I’d like to.”
Harry laughed saying “Yes sweetheart … I can manage. In a few days we’ll be home again and then, if you like, if you wish to, and if Mummy says it’s ok, you can help me sometime. But Sammy, I am not going to make you. Only if you really want to. We will have to see. I’m not going to keep a secret from your Mum. I will have to tell her I helped you to feel good.”
His daughter turned to him and reaching up, feeling his maleness on her young tummy, she kissed him. Then with a mischievous smile she reached down and felt him. Held it. Squeezed it. Then she turned, waded out of the sea and ran towards her mum.
The return journey to England was uneventful. They had stopped at a service station, rested and eaten but the two ladies were anxious to press on for home. They needed to get fresh groceries for the following day and decided that Danny would continue with Samantha and unload his car, while Harry, Maggie and Emily made a quick stop at the supermarket near their homes.
With waves and “See you soon” the parties split up and parted company.
It was seven thirty when Danny arrived home, and while he unloaded suitcases and boxes of wine, Samantha wiped down the surfaces in the kitchen and boiled the kettle to sterilise it; then she boiled fresh water ready for hot drinks for the others when they too arrived. By eight fifteen all was tidied away and Sammy and her uncle chatted about their holiday. At nine thirty the others hadn’t arrived.
“Saturday night” said Danny “it must be crammed with shoppers at the supermarket. They won’t be long now Sammy” he said to his anxious niece. At nine forty five the car arrived. “Here they are at last” said Sammy and dashed to the door and flung it open. “What kept…?” She froze, frowned. “Yes?” she said “what do you want? Uncle Danny you’re wanted” she called out. A tall police sergeant with a female officer stood before her.
While Samantha stood wondering why they had come, Danny thought ‘the police don’t turn up late at night unless….’
“Mr Daniel Bure?” asked the policeman.
“Yes” Danny replied.
“Could we have a private word with you, sir” and he flicked a meaningful glance at Samantha.
“Samantha is my niece and you can say anything in front of her. Has there been a problem? A burglary while we’ve been away? We’ve just returned from France .”
The policewoman broke in “Mr Bure, I wonder if Samantha would make us a nice cup of tea while my colleague has a word with you? Samantha can we do that?”
As the two females went to the kitchen the policeman said “I’m Sergeant Haliday, sir. My colleague is Constable Blair. Sir, do you have a room where we can talk privately?”
Danny led the way to the living room. “Now Sergeant what’s this all about?”
“Mr Bure we have some very sad news for you. Is your wife Emily Bure?
“Yes.” Danny felt a chill inside. His chest contracting.
“And do you know Harry and Margaret Johnson?”
“Yes of course I do. My sister and her husband.”
“Mr Bure there’s no easy way to say this. They were involved in an accident just up the road at the crossroads. I am very, very sorry.”
“Where are they? Are they badly hurt? Which hospital? I must go to them.”
“I am desperately sorry, sir. Mrs Bure and Mr and Mrs Johnson were killed instantly.”
Danny groaned. A deep agonised groan of despair. “Are you sure? Are you quite sure? My niece is Samantha Johnson you see. And they only stopped for groceries. They have a red Toyota 4x4 and… and … They can’t be. No, you’ve made a mistake.”
“There was identification. Driving licences, credit cards. I’m sorry sir there’s no mistake. If you come to the Police Station tomorrow, when it’s convenient, perhaps you would formally identify them. I’m sorry. But we will need confirmation.”
Danny’s face was white, his eyes crinkled in pain and despair, His jaw muscles tight with a superhuman attempt at control.
“I must tell Sammy … oh God she’s only thirteen. Oh God above why?” he choked.
“Sir, we have to do this more than you think. Would you like Constable Blair to tell her, woman to woman like?”
“NO. I have to. She’s very dear to me you see Sergeant. Very dear. Like a daughter to us ... to me.” His eyes filled with tears as he corrected the ‘us’ to ‘me’, fighting for control. “If your friend would be with her. Just while I say it. While I tell her.”
“Anything Mr Bure. This is painful. We know that. But it has to be done, doesn’t it sir?”
He opened the door and called out his colleague’s name, and she came with the young girl.”
As the two females entered the living room he said “I’ll just wait outside sir” and gently closed the door as he left.
A few moments later there was a scream, a young girl’s scream. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I don’t believe you. No it isn’t true. Why are you telling me? It isn’t true. Go away. I HATE you. Go away. It’s not them. You made a mistake. It’s not them. NO. No. no. no.” The words were choked off as Samantha wailed her anguish in the arms of her uncle.
The door opened and the female officer whispered to her colleague “I think there should be a female relative here tonight at least. I’ll ask him if there’s anyone that could come here.”
Minutes later she reappeared with a telephone address book. “There’s another aunt. Wife of his brother. 20 miles away. Ring her - see if she can come here for the night. I can’t see the girl leaving her uncle tonight. But she must have another woman here with her. Get a doctor she’s close to hysterical.”
The sergeant steeled himself to make yet another call, to break the hearts of more family. He hated this part of his job. It never got any easier.
He made the call.
The police surgeon arrived, gave Samantha a sedative injection and left pills for her uncle should he need them.
The two police officers continued to wait patiently. A motherly looking Aunt Polly and another Mr Bure, Uncle Bob, arrived. Then they quietly slipped away. In the car the female officer shed tears for the young Samantha and the sergeant silently offered her his handkerchief.
Samantha was sedated and asleep in the comfort of Uncle Danny’s arms. His face, still white, already etched with the grief of total and final loss, his eyes emptily staring, unseeing at a painting on the wall.
“Danny. DANNY, listen to me. Danny, Sammy can’t stay there all night. Let Bob carry her upstairs after I’ve made a bed for her” and Polly hurried upstairs. The guest bed made, she rummaged in Danny’s chest of drawers and found a clean T shirt for Sammy to use as a nightie. Polly could hardly dress her in her dead aunt’s clothing.
Bob carried her to bed and was banished while Polly undressed her niece.
She made up a second bed for herself and her husband and went downstairs. “Bob help me get Danny to bed.”
Danny emerged from the bleak darkness of his mind “No. No Polly. I will just sit here for a while. You and Bob turn in. Thanks for coming. It’s very good of you.”
The couple looked at each other and nodded. Polly kissed her brother-in-law tenderly. Bob awkwardly patted his brother on the shoulder. “If you’re going to sit up Dan, I’ll sit with you.”
“No, Bob. You turn in. Thanks for coming, brother, Polly. Thanks. I’d like to be alone just now.”
They left him to the desolation of his night. As they reached the top of the stairs they heard a bellow of pain. Of uncontrolled, uncontrollable hurt and pain and anguish. They heard his choking roaring chest tear convulsive sobs out of a man who had forgotten how to cry. Polly turned to her husband and cried. Cried for Samantha. Cried for Danny. Cried for her lost family.
Chapter Five - A dead girl walking.
The Inquest recorded a verdict of accidental death. Their car had been hit by a drink driver crossing a light at red, smashing into them and pushing them into the path of a truck coming in the opposite direction. A second truck following Harry had ploughed into them and the three were killed instantly.
Following the Inquest their bodies were released and funerals arranged, but Samantha shook her head when asked if she would follow in the cortège.
“No” she said “I don’t want them taken away. I don’t want them buried. I don’t want any funeral.”
She refused stubbornly but without apparent emotion to see her parents buried. It was as if, by not seeing them lowered into the hallowed ground, she could still believe they had not been so cruelly taken from her. Danny took her to his home so that she didn’t see the two solemn hearses carrying the bodies of her mother and father, which were bedecked with the respectful colours of the wreaths in contrast to the solemn attire of the mourners. She had consented to a personal wreath of simple spring flowers, as fresh and pretty as her own life had once been. Her card said “Mummy and Daddy I love you for ever and I am sorry.”
Samantha as an orphan was made a Ward of Court and placed temporarily in the care of her Aunt Polly and Uncle Bob. On the directions of the Court, the proceeds of insurance and accidental death policies on both of her parent’s lives were invested in Trust Funds, with the family home put in Samantha’s name to be rented out as an investment for her future. Substantial claims were made against the driver of the car causing the accident and lawyers were retained to fight for maximum compensation.
Sammy herself was in a black pit of despair and took no interest in anything. She was a competent small boat sailor. She liked reading. She enjoyed listening to classical music and browsing old churches, cathedrals and abbeys. She loved swimming and walking the beaches and woods near her home. She delighted in hanging out and cycling with her special friends. She could draw and sketch and had painted several water colours.
Sammy did none of these things in the ten days following the accident. Instead she sat alone in the garden hugging her battered teddy bear, eyes blank and her face pale and drawn. After her hysterical sobbing when she learned of the tragedy Sammy had not shed another tear. Any question had to be asked twice before she responded. Only one thing caused any sign of life: the regular visit of Uncle Danny who at least had his business to run and the responsibility for his employees to provide a small distraction from the desolation inside him. Sammy would run to him, hug him fiercely and when he sat she would cuddle up to him, to be held close in his protective arms. Each time they were alone she would say “I’m sorry. It was my fault. Please forgive me Uncle Danny.”
“Sammy, how can anything be your fault? The driver was over the limit. You were with me. It was a terrible accident. A heartbreaking accident. Listen to me Sammy. IT WAS AN ACCIDENT and nothing more than that. Now don’t be a silly goose.”
“It’s punishment on me for being bad daughter” she whispered.
“Why? How on earth can you say that? Now you’re just being silly. I love you Sammy. Ohmygod how I love you” and hugged and kissed her. “Sammy. If you feel you are being punished shall we restart going to church together? You know you like the Vicar.” But she refused to go.
After two weeks she returned to school; Uncle Danny and her Guardians were anxious for her, but the advice of welfare specialists was that she be with her own special school friends in her everyday school environment doing every day things. She should recommence her daily routines as quickly as possible.
Her teachers didn’t press her for homework nor did they put pressure on her in class. Her best friends hugged her and mumbled ‘sorry Sam’ but despite their friendship and encouragement to join in and play and have girl talk, little seemed to penetrate the shell in which she now lived. Inside her shell she existed without hope, numb to all feeling. As she imagined it she was beyond forgiveness. Godforsaken.
Each day was an ordeal. She got up. She went to bed. In between she was programmed by others to brush her hair, be ready for school, eat her meals, and make an attempt at her homework. Her previous vivacity and enthusiasms were now burning with a dim flame as her thoughts, her feelings and emotions, the sheer excitement and exuberance of discovering teenage life were damped down by her grief.
She wanted only to run away from herself and be someone else, somewhere else. Her everyday life was like a night time dream in which she was running from an unknown terror, where her legs struggled to move through a cloying something that held her back, where an unimaginable horror of mangled flesh reached out to drag her into itself.
Uncle Danny alone could comfort her. At the end of his visits as he left her to return to his own lonely, silent home, she would re-close the shell that protected her. She never questioned that he had to leave her behind. That too was part of her punishment. To be left to suffer alone.
The long summer break from school came in July.
It was now Samantha’s fourteenth birthday and her grief had seen her shed any remaining puppy fat, and her growing beauty as she matured in ripening adolescence was marred only by the cold unsmiling reserve of her manner. Aunt Polly decided on a birthday shopping expedition for her; she would make use of an age old female remedy for all ills. New clothes and new shoes!
That morning after two hours of dragging her niece from department store to boutique, from racks of pretty summer dresses to blouses and skirts, from bespangled sandals to respectable school wear, Polly was dying to rest her aching feet and despairing heart. What a failure it had been.
“Samantha is there NOTHING ...” Polly stopped as she realised her niece was no longer with her. She looked around. There she was, over there - but what was she looking at? Then she saw Sammy riffling through swimming costumes and bikinis.
“Aunty, can I have these. Is it ok? Would it be disrespectful if I had a new ‘kini?” and Samantha held up a brief top and bottom.
‘AT last!’ her aunt thought, ‘thank the Lord she’s found something. She looks almost like her old self.’
“Yes, yes of course you can darling. But ... well are you SURE? Aren’t they just an itsy bitsy little bit brief? There isn’t much to them ... you know you are maturing now ... and ... well ... they will REVEAL you don’t you think, dear? All the men will have a heart attack if you wear those on the beach.”
The beginnings of a smile touched the corners of Samantha’s lips. “I don’t think I dare wear them on the beach but at home sunbathing? Would that be OK? And if you let me I will get another couple of pairs for the beach that you say is ok for me to wear. More respectable for me. I don’t want any of my beach clothes from our holiday in France . I couldn’t bear to wear them again. I was so happy then. But Aunty I just can’t wear them again. I hate my other bikinis. Hate them. I just want to have these. And would it be ok to have some of these pretty undies as well?”
The pretty undies turned out to be lacy and almost see through. Polly shrugged her mental shoulders and thought that at least the girl had wanted something. Was she waking up again? Was the inner growing woman nudging aside the worst of her grief?
So the small intimate items were bought but Aunt Polly insisted on a waist wrap and top to encourage Samantha into modesty when wearing the skimpy bikini.
They arrived home to find that Uncle Bob had bought steaks and chicken and salads for a barbecue and her cousin, Len, had previously phoned the girls and boys who were Sammy’s closest friends.
As dusk fell and the youngsters were playing games in the house, the adults chatting comfortably over drinks, Samantha slipped quietly into her room. From the bottom of her undies drawer she took the bikini she had been wearing on the beach at Royan. The ‘kini she had taken off to flaunt herself to her Daddy. The ‘kini that had drawn his eyes to her charms and made him erect to her. The ‘kini she now hated passionately as part of her act of ‘badness’ as she imagined it. She cautiously left the house, collecting the bottle of bbq lighter fuel and some matches. The garden was large and behind a shed, behind a hedge, she threw the kini on the ground, poured fuel over it and set it on fire. Tears rolled down her face. ‘Please, God, please forgive me. I wanted things, bad things with my Daddy. I’m truly, truly sorry. If You have to punish me more, it’s OK. I don’t mind. But after that please, God, love me again and let me be with Uncle Danny.’
The following day after breakfast and her morning shower, Samantha donned her new bikini. Aunt had been right. Crikey the top left a lot of her breasts on view. And the bottoms!!!! Dare she wear it after all? The briefs were the merest band which failed to conceal a few wisps of her maiden’s hair. She pulled it higher to cover her hairs and succeeded only in causing it to tighten and take the shape of the most intimate folds of her body. The gap between her legs seemed accentuated by the narrowness of the flimsy material. ‘Well’ she thought, ‘if I go right to the bottom of the garden in the shrubbery, no-one will see me anyway.’ She collected a beach towel from the airing cupboard, wore her modesty wraps and went downstairs.
In the kitchen her aunt was busy. “Aunty I’m going in the garden. In the shrubbery to sunbathe. Can I have the key to the bbq shed please? And PLEASE Aunty Pol don’t tell anybody where I am.”
She got herself a lounger and a small bbq table, found a spot which gave her some privacy, took off her wraps and folded them onto the table, put the towel on the lounger and lay on her tummy in the sun’s early morning warmth.
From his bedroom her cousin Len had seen her walk to the shed, had seen her disappear as she lay down. The 16 year old youth wondered what she was up to.
A short time later Polly called down the garden “I’m popping to the shops for a while Sammy, will you be ok by yourself?”
“Yes I’m ok here.”
The door closed, the car started and his mother left. Len quickly felt under his mattress for the girly magazine his friend had loaned him. He lay on his bed, excited by the bared breasts, the hairs of the models as they exposed themselves. His erection was instant and almost painfully hard. His thoughts went to his cousin in the garden. Three years ago she had submissively allowed him between her legs but he hadn’t seen her there. Did she look like these girls now, his fevered mind wondered?
He wore only his boxers as he dropped the magazine, left his bedroom and quietly exited the house. In his bare feet he made no noise as he furtively moved down the garden. He glimpsed the lounger and saw Samantha lying with her face averted. Staring, he felt the throb of his cock as she lay almost naked, the proud jutting cheeks of her backside poorly concealed by the wisp of cotton covering her. Thin straps were over her shoulders and across her back.
She suddenly turned over and he ducked, not wanting to be seen. Samantha settled herself, hands under her head with eyes closed and again he looked. Her breathing seemed regular and he wondered if she had dozed off.
Her bra had pulled up and he could see tiny pink nipples like a kitten’s nose, peeping at him under the bottom edge. Her briefs were pulled taut across her hip bones, leaving a gap between the flimsy material and the flatness of her naked tummy. Brown hairs showed, disappearing into her hidden beauty. Between her relaxed legs the shape of her sex, the unseen wonder of her, was clearly outlined beneath the band of cloth which alone protected her innocence.
Her eyes flipped open and as she saw her cousin she instinctively covered herself with her hands. Len’s hand was moving inside his bulging boxers, a slack-lipped look on his face and the young girl instinctively rolled off the lounger and ran desperately for the sanctuary of her bedroom. He charged after her and lunged for her as she ran up the stairs, the sight of her almost naked rear further inflaming him. She reached her room and tried to close the door but he forced his way in, slamming it behind him.
She faced him, eyes wide, mouth open in fear of him. “No. NO. Len. Get out. I won’t tell if you go NOW.”
“You liked it last time. You LIKED it. Let me see it. I won’t hurt you. I’ve got see it. Please let me see it. Honest I won’t hurt you. I won’t even touch it if you let me see it.”
“NO, Len. NO. I told you. I said GET OUT ......” but before she said more he grabbed her and threw her on the bed.
The sight of her lying there, trembling, flushed and almost helpless, almost naked, finally fuelled his lust. The chase, the hunter’s chase for his prey burned his mind and body. He reached for her panties and pulled them down and off. He almost spurted as he glimpsed her maiden’s hair before she covered herself. He stepped out of his boxers and Samantha saw the arrogance of his manhood, poised and ready. She tried to roll off the opposite side of her bed but was too slow, too late as he pounced and fell on top of her, pinning her to her bed. She tried to push him off but his strength was too great and he held both of her hands above her head with one of his. As she struggled beneath him, feeling the male hardness against her, her movements allowed him to get one knee between hers. Then he was reaching with his free hand to pull her open.
Len looked down. Her mound and the hairs that covered it moulded in erotic perfection down and round. She was trying to fight and he had to use both of his hands to subdue her. He dare not use one of his hands to guide himself to her hidden treasure so he lowered his hips. He saw himself pointing between her spread legs and pushed forward.
Samantha felt the blunt knob press hard, felt her slit parted, felt his frantic movements finally locate her tightness. She clenched herself, trying desperately to deny him entry.
Len thrust and thrust again in his attempt to violate his young cousin. Her hips were trying to escape the outrage of his assault and finally the wriggling and writhing beneath him was too much for his control.
“Oh fuck. OH FUCK. I’m cumminnnnggggggg” he gasped. He froze, his cock pressed against her still virginal opening.
Sammy sensed the pause in his thrusts to force her protective muscle, then a massive throb and heat and wetness and then more thrusting and throbbing as he released his sperm into her slit and over her hairs. He collapsed on top of her, still lying between her parted thighs, the final dribbles of his explosion coating her heaving tummy. His heart was a drum beat pulsating on her chest, slowly calming. Hers was the fluttering of a caged bird threatened by a predatory animal. He groaned and rolled off her, lay on his side and attempted to put his hand between her legs to feel where he had been, trying to use the wet slippery sperm to find her feminine hole and feel inside.
“GET OFF ME” screamed Samantha and scratched the threatening hand. Len flinched at the claw marks of an animal in fury gashing his skin. Again Samantha lashed out at him, reaching out to rake his face in fearless anger. Len fell off the bed and stood, amazed at the sight of this weak girl transformed into a female tiger intent on destroying the hunter. Again she went for him and he turned and ran to his own room, locking the door behind him.
Samantha stood panting, eyes wide, nostrils dilated, shaking with anger. As her cousin’s sperm slowly ran down her legs she picked up her briefs and wiped herself, then threw them on the bed and locked herself in the bathroom.
Len scrambled into his clothes, dashed from the house and rode his bike furiously away from the she-devil behind him. His mother narrowly escaped running him down as she returned, noticing the scratch marks on his face. What the hell had been going on was her horrified thought? Had Samantha’s mind finally cracked under the strain of bereavement? Had she attacked her son?
She hurried upstairs and heard the shower running and tried the bathroom door but it was locked. Went into Samantha’s room and gaped at her niece’s bikini briefs on the bed with her son’s boxers lying on the floor. The briefs were wet and glistening when she picked them up; it was clear that it was her son’s ejaculation that stained them. She was stunned, dismayed, distraught at the thought of the two youngsters having sex. But why was Len’s face scarred with talon like marks? Her mind tried to piece things together - her niece sunbathing - the flimsy bikini - Len in his bedroom when she left - oh no - oh no it couldn’t be possible - COULD IT? Had Len tried to ... tried too ... she could not bear to even think the words.
The shower stopped and her niece appeared swathed in a towel. Sammy stopped in the doorway shocked at the sight of her aunt. Polly went the few steps to hold her in her arms and said tremulously “Sammy I want the truth. Did Len ... has Len ... what happened with Len?”
The girl was tense in the older woman’s arms. “Nothing. Nothing happened.”
“Darling Sammy you don’t need to protect him. I can guess you know. I’m not a fool.”
Samantha blushed scarlet and swallowed nervously. “Aunty Pol honestly nothing happened. He tried to kiss me that’s all.”
Polly released her and picked up the panties, looked at her distressed face and pointed at the fluids. “I’m not an idiot Samantha. I know what this is for goodness sake. Now tell me, what happened.”
“Aunty it really honestly doesn’t matter” she whispered. “I don’t want trouble for Len or for me. It’s best to just say nothing happened that’s all. Please don’t say anything. He didn’t ... what you think ... he didn’t ... not properly.”
“Hmmmm if you are sure. But if his Dad knew he would thrash the skin off his back. Because I know what he tried.”
“I think I ought to dress now Aunty and you were right about that ‘kini’ I don’t think he could help it really.”
That evening she told Bob.
Len had come home with some half baked story of being set on by yobs to account for his injuries and his parents had tried to look as though they believed him. Samantha had pleaded a migraine and stayed in her room.
After supper Len too went “to read” in his room and Bob tapped on his niece’s door and asked if he could come in. After a pause there was a brief, quiet “Yes.”
The curtains were drawn closed and as the westering sun abandoned Evening to the mantle of Night the girl was only dimly seen, huddled on her bed, clutching at her teddy bear.
He sat on her bedside chair, her back was towards him. “Sammy?” No response. “Sammy please let me talk to you.” No response.
“Polly told me. Len did bad things to you. Very bad things. Is that right?” No response. “Sammy if you don’t speak to me it’s going to be hard for me to put anything right and to say how deeply, desperately sorry Aunt Polly and me are that he tried to do bad things to you.” Silence.
After a long pause her tiny voice replied. “It doesn’t matter, Len didn’t hurt me. It wasn’t all the way bad things like Aunt Polly thought.” The quietness filled the room once more then “Uncle Bob, you and Aunt Polly have been really good to me. You care for me I know you do. And the Court said I had to come to you as if I was your own and then you HAD to care for me but I know you don’t just care for me because you HAVE to, but because you WANT to. I do love you very much. Nothing was anybody’s fault. I don’t want you to hurt Len. But can you, if you please, can you tell him not to do those things any more. I’d like that.”
“Sammy I promise that from now you will be safe. You won’t be hurt like this again. I promise.”
Samantha’s simple reply of “Thank you Uncle Bob” made his chest tighten, his throat constrict and he had to touch on her head with an Uncle’s non threatening but loving touch before he could choke out “Good Night Samantha.”
The following Sunday morning Uncle Danny came to visit as promised. Samantha was waiting for him at the gate and as he parked, she ran to him and excitedly showed him a cat which she held to her chest. She seemed brighter, more her old self but his eyebrows rose as he saw she wasn’t clutching the usual old favourite, Fred Bear, her teddy bear.
“Hello Sam where’s the moggie come from?”
“He isn’t a moggie” Samantha protested. “I don’t know where he came from, but he won’t go away! He came two days ago and just hangs around me all the time. I’ve called him ‘Kat’”
She put him down, some creature attracted his attention and he launched himself through the gate in chase. There was a screech of brakes, a thud. The car sped on and Samantha cried out and made to run to the limp body at the side of the road but Danny rapidly caught her arm to prevent her seeing anything to shock or distress her. It had been a glancing blow, but a mortal blow.
“Wait on the drive for me Sam” he told her firmly. ‘Kat was dead, no doubt about it. Fortunately no ruptured tissue. No bleeding. Severe brain damage. Sammy seemed to be coming out of her despair and now this. Damn it. Damn. Damn. Damn.’ he thought. He picked up the cat and walked to Samantha, standing there pale and with wide fearful eyes.
“Sammy. Sammy I am so sorry. The blow from the car killed him instantly. There’s nothing we can do. But Sam, he felt no pain. He didn’t suffer. He was chasing something one second and the next he died. He died happy chasing something. Really he did.”
“Can we bury him and make a cross for him Uncle?”
“Yes darling. Let’s do that together shall we? You don’t have to but would you like to hold him while I find a box in the shed?”
“He isn’t in a mess from that bang is he?”
“No, Sam, there isn’t a mark on him I promise you. Are Aunt Polly and Uncle Bob there? I ought to ask where we can put him. You sit down on the seat there and say goodbye to him and I will go and get them.”
A box was found, a place chosen and a hole was dug. Kat was laid tenderly in the box by Samantha. “Wait. Wait a minute” she suddenly cried. She dashed to a flower bed and picked pansies, primroses and a single early poppy. She hurried back and laid the flowers on the still warm fur. Danny closed the lid and the box was put in the small grave. The soil was replaced, the surplus soil formed carefully into a neat respectful mound. Uncle and niece stood hand in hand.
“Would you like to say anything?” Danny asked.
In the peaceful, secluded corner of the garden Samantha put her hands together in prayer, closed her eyes and began to whisper “Our Father, Which art in Heaven ... for ever and ever, Amen.” Then “Goodbye Kat.”
Daniel put his arm around her shoulders as he heard the choke in her voice. She turned to him, he held her close and she buried her face in his chest. Samantha sobbed with deep shuddering aching pain, a pain she had locked inside her since the tragic accident. Danny put his cheek on top of her head in comfort, not aware that his own tears flowed without restraint as the two, adult and teenager shared at last a joint release.
Polly and Bob gave the couple privacy until they heard Danny protesting in fun at the damp wetness of his shirt. Sammy was heard to giggle and say her hair was wet so he couldn’t talk. Then the sound of a girl’s delicate sniffs into a hanky.
A tray of that panacea, an English cup of tea, was magically on the garden table and the four of them sat.
Samantha was thoughtful, red eyed but not with the old blank devastation in her face. “It was an accident that killed Kat wasn’t it. It wasn’t me putting him down. It was just an accident.”
The adults exchanged raised eyebrows and questioning looks. “Yes. It was simply an accident. Kat was in the wrong place at the wrong time and it wasn’t anybody’s fault. Not your fault, not Kat’s fault and not the mouse’s fault” said Polly, having a better idea than the men what was going through her niece’s mind.
“And Kat wasn’t hurt and in pain and all in a mess and blood and smashed to pieces. He was just like asleep.”
“Yes, Sammy. Just like asleep and he didn’t feel a thing. He didn’t feel any pain. He just didn’t know what happened to him. He was happy chasing a mouse or something and then, suddenly, it was like going to sleep at night.”
“So my Mum and my Dad and my Aunty Em, it was like falling asleep for them and they weren’t smashed up and in a mess or anything. They just went to sleep. Like Kat it was an accident and it wasn’t anybody’s fault except the drink driver.”
This was no time to tell Samantha of the appalling injuries suffered by her parents and Emily. “Samantha, it was an accident and that is all it was. And I promise you, it was like falling asleep and they didn’t feel any hurt or any pain and they didn’t suffer in any way. Not for a split second did they suffer any pain.”
Samantha was quiet for a while.
“Uncle Dan, will you take me to see my parent’s please. Where they are now. And Aunty Em as well.”
That afternoon uncle and niece visited the grounds of the ancient church where their loved ones lay at rest. Samantha held a posy of garden flowers for each grave in one hand, and her uncle’s hand in a tight grip with the other. The memorial stones had not yet been laid as the ground in the two adjacent graves was allowed to settle, but urns of reverence held Nature’s beauty in vivid yellows and pinks and cornflower blue. Uncle Danny carried a bag out of which he took two glazed white jars with the words “Royan, Charente Maritime” blazoned on them. He filled them from the water bottle he also carried and Samantha arranged her posy, one for each grave. They stood, both with tears in their eyes, but the tears were tears of sadness and the beginnings of an acceptance of loss, not the violent emotions of prostration and irreparable bereavement.
They sat on a sun-warmed bench still holding hands. “Sammy, Aunt Pol and Uncle Bob and me had a little chat before we came here. They told me that Len is obsessed with you and, I wonder, if I can get the green light from the Children’s Welfare people, if you would like to come and live with me. Would you like that? You don’t have to you know.”
Samantha stood, her face alight, her eyes shining. “”Oh you don’t mean it! You can’t mean it!” She flung herself onto her uncle’s lap and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “You don’t know. You can’t know how I’ve hoped and prayed I can be with you and God didn’t listen I thought. But He has listened and it’s all OK with Him now and Uncle Dan I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“Hey steady on, girl” her uncle laughed “I haven’t spoken to the welfare mafia yet!”
“I know they’ll say yes. I know it. I have to tell Mummy and Daddy and Aunt Em and I want to say thank you in church and uncle I am so HAPPY.”
She ran to the graves and Dan followed more sedately. He could see her babbling out her excitement and when she ran back to him she said “it’s OK. They all said it’s ok. Well I know it is. I can feel it inside me that it’s ok.”
Inside the church Samantha said “please let me be alone Uncle Dan, just to say my thank you to Him.”
He sat in a rear pew as the young girl went into the Lady Chapel and knelt in reverent prayer.
The Vicar entered and saw Daniel. “Hello Mr Bure. Enjoying a little peace?”
“Actually, Reverend, I’ve brought Samantha with me. She’s had a remarkable change. Almost her old self. We visited her parents and my wife and she held up very well. Better than I could ever have hoped.”
As he finished speaking the girl emerged from the Lady Chapel and walked up the aisle towards them. The sun banished a cloud and streamed through a stained glass window depicting Christ in Glory. The dust motes in the air showed a beam enfold Samantha, scattering the rich colours about her, the light glittering about her head.
“Oh my Dear Lord” exclaimed the Vicar in awe at the sight. “She seems to have been touched by the Finger of God Himself.”