Forgot to say it first time around, but the usual disclaimer applies. The characters do not belong to me, they are owned by Dick Wolf and company.
Mark Brady was nothing, it not a charmer. He had somehow charmed his way into the lives of dozens of young women and mothers before Frances, and there would be dozens more after her. But right now she was his main focus. He had taken a special liking to her; he loved those big brown doe eyes of hers. He took his time making his way to the Goren home. Since she called him, she must be wanting it bad. They all did, there was just something about him.
There was something special about Bambi, too. Bambi…he realized he didn't even know her real name. But it didn't matter, what mattered was that she was a feisty little thing, a regular ball of fire. He had more fun with her on that one night than he'd had with those last 5 bitches put together.
He thought about the last night they'd had together…the night Kennedy got elected. She was all dressed up, like most everybody that night, but she was really styling. She was the best-looking broad in the place. He wasn't sure how she'd ditched her husband that night, all he knew was they'd had some kind of fight. Well, her husband's loss was his gain. As much as she was the life of the parties, she was every bit as feisty in the bedroom. They must have done it four or five times that night, and she probably would've gone for more. Unfortunately the night was over before either wanted it to be, leaving them each craving more. He was certainly looking forward to this little go-round with her.
As soon as he knocked on the door, Frances opened it quickly, looking around, and pulling him in.
"Well, aren't you the little anxious one?" he said with a smirk. God, he couldn't wait!
Frances smiled at him, she was anxious. Anxious to get it on with him, and anxious to prove to her husband once again that he wasn't the only one who could get attractive members of the opposite sex. Mark was her kind of lover, a little rough, but with real staying power. Not that Big Frank couldn't hold up his end, he was great, too. She just liked a little variety, especially when Frank was out sniffing around for something young and tasty.
She was a little worried though, although her figure was excellent by most standards, she now had that damn surgery scar. And since she was nursing Bobby, her breasts were much larger in comparison to the rest of her body. Her body was no longer perfect. And she felt a tad bit resentful towards her new baby, the cause of it all.
"I just wanted to make sure my husband wasn't around," she lied.
He picked up on that right away, "Liar," he said. "You want him to know I've been here. It's your little way of punishing him. But I personally don't care about your husband problems. All I care about is you."
Brady returned her smile. "You look beautiful…" he said, coming up behind her. Lifting her nightgown with one hand, with the other hand he cupped her full breasts. "So much bigger…" he murmured.
He didn't wait another minute before ushering her to the bedroom. There he took her nightgown all the way off, and she stood before him naked in all her glory. He couldn't help but notice the surgery scar, then the reason for the fuller breasts became clear.
"You had another baby."
Suddenly self-conscious, she reached for her gown. But he held it away from her. "Oh, no. You called me, we're going to play our little game. Besides," he kneaded her breasts harshly, "They are better than ever. I like 'em big like that. More to touch… to suck… You're still a beautiful woman, Bambi."
"You're not so bad yourself," she purred, unbuckling his belt, and taking him in her hand. Already he was responding to her, and this pleased her to no end. She thought she was special. She had no way of knowing she was only one of many.
His hands were all over her. Despite his roughness, she loved it, it had been a long time since a man had really made her feel wanted. Certainly her no-good husband never did. They made their way to the bed, where they stayed for the next couple of hours, barely coming up for air.. Brady was more than a little rough; Frances hurt, but it was worth it. Rough sex was Brady's way. A little pain was a small price to pay for great sex.
xxx
After a while, little Bobby was awake again, this time because he was hungry. They could hear the little noises he made in the minutes before the crying built up. Brady got curious and went to Bobby's crib.
"How old did you say he was?" he asked.
"He's almost two months," Frances answered distractedly.
Brady did some quick math, and grinned. "This little bastard is mine," he said.
Frances panicked. "No! Absolutely not! He's—"
"Bullshit! He's mine."
He reached down and picked Bobby up. Frances hurriedly got out of bed, and grabbed for her baby, but Brady held him up, out of her reach.
"Mark! Please…"
Brady laughed, and held Bobby higher.
"Mark, be careful! Please! You could drop him…"
Brady looked at her. "Don't worry, Bambi. I'm not going to hurt my own son…he is my son, right?"
"I—I don't know…" she said, reaching for Bobby.
Once again Brady held him out of her reach. "I said I wouldn't hurt my son.Is he my son, Bambi?"
Frances' hands went to her face, and she nearly broke down. "Yes… I think. Even Frank thinks he's not his. But… there's no way to know for sure…"
Brady grinned. "You know," he said. "I'll ask you one more time…" Suddenly Bobby started crying, a very hurt and very sudden crying.
"Stop! Please! Don't hurt him…please…"
Brady waited for his answer.
"Alright…he's…he's yours."
Brady put the screaming baby back in his crib none too gently, and turned to Frances. "Undress him," he ordered.
"W—why?" she asked, frightened for her baby.
"I want to see what he looks like. Undress him."
"You can see what he—" At a look from Brady, Frances took off everything except his diaper. Frances started at the angry purple bruising on Bobby's leg. "What did you do to him?" she hissed.
"The diaper, Bambi, the diaper," he said warningly. "Never mind. I'll do it."
"No…" Frances started, going for Bobby. Brady stepped in front of her, and unpinned Bobby's diaper. No sooner had the diaper been released than Bobby peed, right in Brady's face.
"What the fuck?" Brady sputtered, as pee ran down his face. Despite her fear, she couldn't help laughing. Brady turned on her, murder in his eyes. Then he turned and picked up the still crying Bobby.
"Mark! Babies—boy babies—do that…" Frances backed away from him a few steps, trying to explain.
"Think it's pretty funny, huh?"
"Mark, he…he's probably hungry. Let me feed him…"
Brady leered at her, and suddenly agreed. "Okay," he said, "Feed him." Handing the crying baby over to her, he said, "Christ, look at him! He's got him a little whopper already!"
"Stop it! He's a baby!"
Brady stared at her. "Why don't you shut him up and feed him," he ordered. "Pop one of those newly big tits in his mouth and get this thing going?"
"I need my robe," she said, suddenly shy, but he wouldn't let her have it. "What if little Frankie comes in?" she pleaded.
"We'll just have to lock the door."
Frances was totally humiliated, but had no choice as Bobby screamed in hunger. His crying caused a reaction in her own body; she had to feed him. She picked him up and he immediately started rooting for her breast, like he was starving, and latching on greedily. She sat with him, unsuccessfully trying to hide herself from Brady.
Brady was fascinated, watching and listening to the baby's little sucking noises and gasps for air as he tried to feed and breathe at the same time. After watching a while, Brady went to his duffel bag and pulled out his camera and sketchbook, and started sketching. "I'll call this 'Mother and Child,'" he told her, like this was a common occurrence.
And I'll call you a pervert, Frances thought, but dared not say it.
Eventually Bobby was satisfied, and she put him back in the crib. He went to sleep easier this time, thanks to a full belly and the fact that he was still exhausted from his earlier crying. Thank God! Frances thought. She didn't need him crying all night making things worse. She wanted to enjoy this night with Brady, and Bobby was plain just in the way.
No sooner had she put Bobby back in his crib when Brady came up behind her, and fondled and cupped her breasts again. He maneuvered her back to the bed, still cupping her. "Now lets see what the big fuss with these is all about." Once in bed, he took her breast in his mouth, and began tasting her milk.
xxx
Brady stayed until morning, then got up, before Frances even stirred. They had both just actually fallen asleep. Brady didn't want to be here when Bambi's husband returned home. Not that he couldn't control the situation, he had no qualms about that. He just didn't need the headache. He went to the crib and looked down at little Bobby, who was awake and cooing and kicking in his crib. This was a beautiful baby, no doubt about it. He had eyes like his mother. But that was as far as the attraction for Bobby went. Brady had no more use for a kid than he did a permanent girlfriend. But maybe this kid could come in handy…he really did like Bambi, probably more than any other woman, and he wanted to keep things going with her for awhile. What was it they said? he mused. Something about a cow and a calf. Well, he had them both.
"Do you know who's holding you?" he said, picking Bobby up again. "Your daddy, that's who." He ran his hands roughly over the baby's soft dark curls. "Don't worry, little boy, you're gonna see your daddy again. As long as Mommy's still playing the game, I'll be back. But when it's over, watch out."
Brady picked up his duffel bag and left quietly, if possible, even a little more cocky than when he came in. He knew he now had a son.
tbc
