Summer Story

[seemiyah]

Re: Summer Story

Correct (rhatid mi a write correct like a no you a write the story.. [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/704555_dwl.gif[/img]

Bandanna you get it now? Aunt Myrtle is Michelle's mother's aunt and since Nunya has not written the part in the story yet where Sarah difinitively gives birth to Michelle's mother we are assuming Sarah is therefore her grandmother..... wait mi confuse you some more... [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/grin.gif[/img]

[Bandana]

Re: Summer Story

<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Nunya</div><div class="ubbcode-body">Myrtle is Michelle's grand aunt. </div></div>

Nothing like having the author at your fingertips when you get confused [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/grin.gif[/img] [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/blush.gif[/img] [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/704555_dwl.gif[/img]


You got more??? [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70371-jump.gif[/img]

[Bandana]

Re: Summer Story

<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: seemiyah</div><div class="ubbcode-body">Correct (rhatid mi a write correct like a no you a write the story.. [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/704555_dwl.gif[/img]

Bandanna you get it now? Aunt Myrtle is Michelle's mother's aunt and since Nunya has not written the part in the story yet where Sarah difinitively gives birth to Michelle's mother we are assuming Sarah is therefore her grandmother..... wait mi confuse you some more... [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/grin.gif[/img] </div></div>

[img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/704555_dwl.gif[/img]

yes mi get it...

Thanks all of unno [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70456-eyebrows.gif[/img] [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/blush.gif[/img] [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/704555_dwl.gif[/img]

[BlessedLadyOfZion]

Re: Summer Story

<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Kia</div><div class="ubbcode-body"><div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: LadyZ</div><div class="ubbcode-body"><div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Bandanna</div><div class="ubbcode-body"><div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: seemiyah</div><div class="ubbcode-body">It's her grandmother we are reading about. </div></div>

[img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/confused.gif[/img]

Myrtle is Michelle's Aunt, and Sarah is Myrtle's sister...
Sarah must be Michelle's Mom, because the other Aunt "Mary" is the one who just passed...

Right?? [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70402-thinking.gif[/img] [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/confused.gif[/img]


Nunya [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/wavey.gif[/img]


come clear the confusion noh?? [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/grin.gif[/img]

</div></div>

Myrtle, Sarah and Mary are sisters

Michelle's mom is Sarah's daughter hence Aunt Mary

Myrtle is Michelle's gran aunt or Michelle's mom's aunt </div></div>

and Myrtle believe seh de sin a de madda pass dung fi generations [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/bubble.gif[/img] </div></div>

so i wonder what michelle mom ( a shi name petal??? caw mi tyad fe write 'michelle mom') did do fe murkle nuh like har [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70402-thinking.gif[/img] or shi just hate har caw she pablo and sarah seed?

[seemiyah]

Re: Summer Story

Z, I think that is going to be it, she is the product of Sarah and Pablo so of course Myrtle naw go like her and yes is Petal she name.

[kia027]

Re: Summer Story

<div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: LadyZ</div><div class="ubbcode-body"><div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Kia</div><div class="ubbcode-body"><div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: LadyZ</div><div class="ubbcode-body"><div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: Bandanna</div><div class="ubbcode-body"><div class="ubbcode-block"><div class="ubbcode-header">Originally Posted By: seemiyah</div><div class="ubbcode-body">It's her grandmother we are reading about. </div></div>

[img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/confused.gif[/img]

Myrtle is Michelle's Aunt, and Sarah is Myrtle's sister...
Sarah must be Michelle's Mom, because the other Aunt "Mary" is the one who just passed...

Right?? [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70402-thinking.gif[/img] [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/confused.gif[/img]


Nunya [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/wavey.gif[/img]


come clear the confusion noh?? [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/grin.gif[/img]

</div></div>

Myrtle, Sarah and Mary are sisters

Michelle's mom is Sarah's daughter hence Aunt Mary

Myrtle is Michelle's gran aunt or Michelle's mom's aunt </div></div>

and Myrtle believe seh de sin a de madda pass dung fi generations [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/bubble.gif[/img] </div></div>

so i wonder what michelle mom ( a shi name petal??? caw mi tyad fe write 'michelle mom') did do fe murkle nuh like har [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/70402-thinking.gif[/img] or shi just hate har caw she pablo and sarah seed? </div></div>

wi guess we will find out when our esteemed author gives us the rest of the story [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/bubble.gif[/img]

Oy Nunya come wid de rest noh? cho man! [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/bexbad.gif[/img]

[Nunya]

Re: Summer Story

Chapter XVIII

The women of the house were busy. The wedding was less than a month away. Mama, Mary and Myrtle had so much to do. Sarah helped too, offering her services but Myrtle always had the impression that she was being laughed at. Myrtle had kept a close eye on her young sister and she’d tried very hard not to draw unsavoury conclusions about her beau and her sister. For Myrtle had sensed that something was off. She’d noticed the way they sometimes looked at each other – her sister knowingly, her fiancé afraid. Myrtle had seen the way he would withdraw from a conversation or a setting if Sarah became too involved. Myrtle wanted to ask him, but she was afraid. She loved Pablo so and she wanted their coming together to be perfect. Even now, months after he’d come back with her, lived under her mother’s roof, they had not crossed that threshold. She wanted to come to him clean and pure on their wedding night. And he’d told her he loved her for it.

Still, Eva’s words would ring in her mind. He was a chaser. If it walked and wore a skirt, he would sleep with it. His passion had excited Myrtle back in Miami, but now that they were back in Jamaica and living with her mother, his passion was banked. He’d whispered to her promises of sensual and sexual delights beyond her wildest dreams and other than letting him touch her there, she’d let nothing come closer than his promises. But while she waited for him, was he waiting for her? Were his passions really banked? Would she be the one to be scorched by them come their wedding night?

She saw the way he drew back as though scalded if his fingers happened to touch her sister’s. And she was afraid to question why. Instead, she hurried with the preparations for her wedding. She was frenetic and she could not help it. She felt there was a deadline against which she was fighting and she had to get there, she had to be married to the man of her dreams before it was too late.

It was less than a week before the wedding. Myrtle felt like she’d been holding her breath forever, and now she could finally breathe. A week. Everything was coming together beautifully, invitations had been mailed (Sarah had derided these, saying that they could’ve told everyone in person instead of printing up ‘pretty paypa’); menu had been decided upon and double and triple checked; the decorations had been received and were awaiting placement; the dresses were ready; the participants were ready; everything was set.

Myrtle’s discomfiture was waning, slowly but surely. She felt as though her invisible corset had been released. Her laughter was no longer nervous and she found that she could even joke. Pablo smiled tenderly and seemed less tense. Mama was happily tolerant. Mary was blissful and Sarah was less mocking than usual.

The house was complete and save for a few rooms that needed to be sorted, it was ready to be lived in. Sarah had seen it being built from the ground up and was satisfied that it was something worthy of her sister. Myrtle, being her normally fussy self, had demanded and received the best in household construction, fixtures and furnishings. Pablo, his carpentry skills coming along nicely, had put the personal touch in, working on the carpentry with Mr. Joe. He’d thought it would be fitting to carve Myrtle’s new initials into the modern wooden bathroom cabinets. Myrtle had thought it frivolous but was secretly pleased. Now she took a break from the sped up pace of last minute rechecking and stopped by her new house.

Inside, she wandered from room to room, checking everything, hugging herself for her unbelievable good luck. She would never admit it to anyone, but there had actually been a time when she was convinced that she would remain alone, caring and loving no one else but her mother. She knew her standards were high and she knew that they had put off many a potential suitor. And she did not regret it. For had she lowered her standards, she would have been saddled with someone who would not have had the effect, the amazingly rapturous effect that Pablo had on her.

Inside the bathroom, she traced her fingers along the edge of the new enamel bathtub and blushed at the promise that Pablo had made her of bathing her in it every night. She put her purse on the small vanity, wriggled out of her sandals and squished her toes into the thick bathroom mat. She turned to the sink and imagined him standing there, shaving and her standing behind him, pressing her bare breasts into his back.

One week. God, she just wanted it to be here, now. Anticipation coursed through her as she made her way back home.

On returning home from work, Pablo was dirty and crabby. It had not been a particularly fun day. In truth, none of the days working as a carpenter were particularly fun. He was not happy with the way the wood and the tools coarsened his hands and chipped at his nails. He’d always had pride in his hands. They were meant for music and loving. Not for hammering. But it was work and working ensured that his future with Myrtle would not be jeopardized. He had done so much for her, that sometimes he wondered if she was aware of just how much. His music was going nowhere. Jamaicans, he’d found, were not that keen on what he had to offer. They preferred the American big band sounds or those jazzy lilts that spoke to him no matter how he resisted. He wanted to stay true to his style, and he’d resisted his new friend’s efforts to bring him around. And while he sang when he worked, he resented not being able to use the claves. For as Mr. Joe said, “Carpentry, is not talk work. And if it was good enough fi de Lord, it good enough fi yuh.”

Pablo showered and grabbed a bite, thankful that he was able to avoid his future mother-in-law, his sisters-in-law (especially Sarah) and his bride-to-be. The stress of everything had been getting to Pablo for a long while, and while it built, he had to put ever more effort into keeping it tamped. But sometimes he just needed to get away, and that his plan this evening. He would clean up, grab his claves and go over to his new house and just be alone.

Sarah was feeling pensive. She’d avoided everyone as they bustled and made much ado about the wedding. Though she’d never admit it, she was happy for her sister. On the rare occasions when Sarah was given to self-reflection, she’d wondered at her continuous antagonism toward her sister. Myrtle was a snob, a know-it-all and a do gooder, but really Sarah knew those weren’t good enough reasons for making her sister’s life hell. Lately she’d been feeling unwell and though her suspicions were growing, she wanted to be sure. There was a time when she could’ve shared her troubles with the housekeeper, she who had taught her the remedies for pregnancy prevention, but those times had passed. Somehow the housekeeper no longer wanted to ‘help’ and Sarah, threatening to have her terminated, had not been able to dissuade her.

Sarah was sure she was pregnant. And the idea was repugnant to her. What made it even more so, was knowing that the child was Pablo’s. Much as she enjoyed needling her sister, she did not want to do this – have a child by her sister’s soon to be husband.

These thoughts rushed through her mind, colliding with each other and heading off without clear answers. She did not know what to do. She needed time to think and she needed peace and quiet to do so. So she set out for the one place where she would not run into anyone. She set out for Myrtle’s and Pablo’s new house.

[BlessedLadyOfZion]

Re: Summer Story

[img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/yahoo.gif[/img]

[Nunya]

Re: Summer Story

On coming to the front of the house, she heard singing and her heart sank. She did not want to be with Pablo right now. Though he was handsome and decent and fairly good at sex, she’d had her fill of him and what he stood for. She turned to leave the house, but her mind screamed at her, “He should know.”

She found him in the backyard, skipping and dancing around on the hard packed earth that Myrtle had earmarked as the perfect spot for a lawn. Who had lawns in their backyards? Who had lawns, period? That was such a waste of good planting area, Sarah thought, and knew the idea to be just another example of Myrtle’s ‘thinking she was better than everyone else’.

Sarah watched him for a minute and admired the way he threw his head back as he belted out a song. Her heart ached for a moment as she caught a glimpse of the passion that he’d never shown to her. She wished he’d at least once opened up himself like that to her, just let her in. In mid spin, Pablo saw her and stopped, almost unbalanced. He stumbled and then righted himself, holding his claves tightly together with both hands. She pushed the door opened and stepped outside.

“No!” he said, decisively. “We do this no more. It is a wicked thing we do.”

She folded her arms and regarded him, head cocked. “Really. Now yuh decide dat it wicked?”

He braced his legs and responded. “It was always wicked. I know. I don care if you tell er. I not do it anymore.”

“Oh, so yuh finally grow some balls eeh? Finally ‘no care if I tell er’ eeh?”

Pablo stiffened. “I am a man. I love your sister. I do not want to hurt your sister. We have done this and we do it no more. It ends.”

Sarah smiled and shrugged. “Well, maybe me neva want do it anymore, yuh did consida dat?”

Pablo looked relieved. “You not…”

She laughed shortly. “No, ‘I not’.” She mimicked. “But I have something to tell you, yuh better come inside.”

She smiled mockingly at the suspicious look that crossed his face. “No worry, mi nah go jump yuh.”

Sarah walked through the door and left it open for him to follow.

“What is this thing you have…” he asked, keeping his distance.

“Mi pregnant.”

“¿Embarazado? No,” he said on an uneasy laugh. “No joke.”

“Is not a joke,” she said, watching him curiously. “Mi pregnant. Early days, but mi know.”

“Is not my…”

“Doah say it!” she snapped, her face hardening. “Yuh better doah say it.”

“But you, you…bruja!” he screamed.

“No badda stawt wid dat Spanish [censored],” she warned. “Mi jussa tell yuh cawsen say mi figa say yuh should at least know before mi dash it whe.”

“¿Qué?” he was puzzled. “No entiendo…”

Sarah hissed her teeth and turned to walk away. “All mi did want is a likkle peace an quiet, an all mi get is dis…” she turned to the bathroom, her intention to use it before walking back home. She was suddenly so tired.

She jerked around when the bathroom door was flung opened. She raised startled eyes to him. “Yuh mind?” she snapped going to push the door close.

“You not have bebé,” he said, coming to her. “You not have…”

Sarah slapped his hands away and snapped, “You doan tell mi whe fi do! If mi waa have it or not, is not up to yuh! But mi already say mi nah go have it…”

But Pablo was not listening, his head was going from side to side, his eyes unseeing as he advanced.

“No, no bebé…”

Sarah was frightened. “No,” she said, backing up. “No baby. I no have baby. I make joke.”

“You make ha ha?” he asked, his hands coming up to her neck. “No bebé?”

The toilet seat knocked Sarah’s legs from beneath her and she sank down, but not for long, for his hands were at her throat and he was dragging her up by her neck. She clawed and grabbed but he was staring at her but not seeing. “No,” she gasped. “Pablo no…”

“No?” he said, his eyes coming into focus.

“No…” she was lightheaded and stars danced where his face was.

His fingers loosened and he stepped back, trembling and frightened. He stared in consternation as she coughed and held her neck.

“I sorry,” he said, reaching for her.

“No,” she gasped. “Doan touch me…”

“I sorry,” he said, over and over again. “I sorry, I sorry…”

Sarah reached for the sink and splashed water onto her face. She gasped and stared her reflection in the mirror. Her arms trembled as they clung to the sink and her breathing was laboured. Pablo had been terrifying and she’d never been more excited in her life. She felt a momentary pang that they would be together no more and she took a deep breathing, seeking to dredge up something suitably scathing to say as her parting shot. Her eyes landed on the initials that were carved into the cupboard. She stared at it for a long time and then turned to him suddenly.

“Last time,” she said, struggling for flatness but dismayed when her voice came out high and thin. She swallowed and said, more evenly, “You’re going to [censored] me for the last time. Right here, right now.”

He stared at her. “¿Qué?”

Sarah stepped out of her panties never taking her eyes off his. “Yuh want mi fi tek it awf fi yuh?” she asked, flicking her wrists to her pants.

“No,” he said, stepping back. “Veta a la verga!”

“Wha?” she asked, undoing the clasps of her skirt.

“Go [censored] yoursel,” he said slowly.

“No, no,” she said evenly, stepping out of her skirt. “No, you a go [censored] me. Right here. And mi no waa no likkle wishy washy bizniz needa. Memba how yuh neahly strangle mi to deat likkle while ago? Well a dat kinda feeling mi waa. Right yahso, right now.”

Her eyes bored into his and her excitement was transmitted. Then he was undoing his pants and hoisting her against the wall. The coldness of the tiles made her arch into him and when he pushed into her she immediately exploded.

But she was not done. She couldn’t be. Not when he was so hard inside her, pushing like he’d never done before. She gasping and screaming, her arms wrapped around his head, her face buried in his neck.

Maybe it was the screams, maybe it was her ears being covered, maybe it was the way her blood sang through her veins, maybe it was the way his every move resonated within her, she was not sure what it was, but whatever it was, it prevented her from hearing Myrtle enter the bathroom.

[CeaBee]

Re: Summer Story

[img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/shocked.gif[/img] she get ketch

dat girl kinda freaky eh? [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/704555_dwl.gif[/img]

[MarieK]

Re: Summer Story

mi raaaaaahhhhhhhhhh

[R00TS]

Re: Summer Story

[img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/notworthy.gif[/img]

[MsExced]

Re: Summer Story

Ooh lala...poor Myrtle, Nunya [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/notworthy.gif[/img]

[MarieK]

Re: Summer Story

a wahdis days of ourlives, how come di ress a di drama a tek suh lang

[gullygirl]

Re: Summer Story

“No, no,” she said evenly, stepping out of her skirt. “No, you a go [censored] me. Right here. And mi no waa no likkle wishy washy bizniz needa. Memba how yuh neahly strangle mi to deat likkle while ago? Well a dat kinda feeling mi waa. Right yahso, right now.”


gwaan tru, Sarah.. get yours my girl.. [img]/forums/images/%%GRAEMLIN_URL%%/notworthy.gif[/img]