My adopted Daughter 2

My name is Shelly, but everyone calls me by my middle name Tracy. I’m not sure how it happened, but it did, and somewhere along the lines I just went with it, like I do all things. Same thing with my marriage. I loved Mark then, and I do now, but through the years, I have just gone along with everything, and it has led us to a pretty dull life. All I ever wanted was a child, but even that was beyond us. We tried for three years, all of those years having timed sex, taking what little passion we had between us out of the equation. I knew he jacked off in the shower and to porn, and I sneaked away into the bathroom to use my egg in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t that we weren’t sexual people. At least on my part I thought about sex all the time, and before we were married, I sure wasn’t a prude. We thought it better not to talk about our pasts, and perhaps it was thinking we were both so pure that made the sex so bland and unexciting.

We hadn’t given up on having a child when Shannon came into the picture. We had just put out name into the pot for adoption when we were contacted, and we viewed it as an omen. She was evidently going to be a lot of work, but we both figured we could use the chore and the distraction.

When Shannon finally arrived, she was so far from what I was expecting. I knew she had been abused, and for some reason I was expecting a mousy little girl that stayed to herself. I met her after I got off work. Mark had been to get her at the airport to pick her up and got her settled in the room, and when I walked in the door, he told me she was in her room.

I knocked on the door and when she said “yes” I opened the door.

“Hey, I’m Tracy, I don’t know what Mark has told you, but I’m sure its all lies.”

She looked at me with confusion. When she finally spoke, all she said was that he spoke well of me. But I didn’t pay any attention to what she was saying. She was stunning. She wore short black boy shorts, clearly torn and worn, but sexy none the less. She also had a worn sleeveless tee shirt, ribbed, that barely covered her breasts. I had been with a woman in college, mainly to experience it, but rarely thought about women, but Shannon was gorgeous. Her body was stunning. Underneith her teeshirt, her nipples were clearly visable, and the sheer size caused them to pancake out and settle out the arm holes.

We made small talk, and I told her that we would take her shopping the next day, and then shut the door and walked back to the bedroom.

“So what did you think of our Shannon.” He was propped up on the bed reading a book.

“I don’t know what to say. Its going to take some work having her in the house.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well she’s a grown woman. Its like we skipped all the growing up and suddenly have a teenager in the house.”

“Yeah, she seems really well adjusted, but I did get a call from the adoption agency and they said she’d been though a lot and that she had a skewed view of relating to people.”

“How so?”

“No big thing, we just need to watch her, show her we love her.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry to say this, especially since she is now out daughter, but did you see her body? Wow.” I was so turned on it was unbelievable.

“Well I’m glad you are home, but I’m beat. I put some food in the fridge if you want some. I’m going to get some shut eye. Have a big day tomorrow, want to make sure she gets settled in.”

“Night.” I gave him a kiss and walked into my closet. I took off my clothes and threw them into the basket, folded my bra and put it in my drawer and then slipped on some boxer shorts and an old teeshirt. When I left my closet all the lights were out, and I made my way down the hallway to the kitchen.