The following is a work of erotic fiction to be read by
persons over the age of eighteen or twenty-one,
whichever your state allows.  All characters are
fictionalized.  Any representation to real persons are
purely coincidental.  This story is not available for
reproduction without the header and without the written
permission of the author, Virago Blue.  Thanks.

This story is dedicated to all the mothers and
mothers-to-be out there.  Not to be excluded in the
least, all the men who have become wonderful, loving
fathers.  Your worth is beyond estimation.

***
  
For the Love of Becca
(c) 1999 by Virago Blue
 
     More than a year had passed since I sat in this
waiting room.  The same outdated magazines littered the
tables.  Shiny-faced toddlers and poetically beautiful
mothers-to-be smiled up at me from the crinkled glossy
covers.  Hah!  Where were the fathers of those
beautiful babies?  Probably out building junior a
decent college fund and planning family outings, I
thought cynically.   

     I wasn't the first woman to become a single
mother.  I wasn't going to be the last. Michael had
made himself perfectly clear: He didn't want to be a
father, never planned to be a father and would be glad
to pay for an abortion.  He said all this after
accusing me of trapping him and his money, buying
defective condoms and seducing him into unsafe sex.  I
laughed, an odd little habit of mine when I was angry. 
I laughed and told him not to worry.  I never wanted to
make a man resent being a father.  My attorney will
draw up the paperwork to terminate his rights.  Have a
nice life.

     I grew up the only child of a vengeful woman and
resentful man.  We were the cliche dysfunctional
family.  During one of many arguments between my
parents,  I overheard my father yelling that she should
have had that abortion or at least put 'her' up for
adoption.  Yes, I was the 'her' of whom they spoke.
  
     Mom and Dad eventually divorced.  I buried myself
in my schoolwork.  I only wanted to get lost in the
woodwork of my unhappy home.  I enjoyed being alone
most of the time.  If not for a few good friends I had
in high school, my social life would have sucked.  

     After earning the scholarship to Vanderbilt, I
gratefully left the arms of my family.  I threw
myself into the whole college life: musty dorm rooms,
all-night cramming for exams, lousy food and even the
occasional one night stand to release pent up
frustrations.  Oh yeah, and a heavy class load.  I
intended to make a good life for myself.  After
graduating from Vanderbilt with my masters in
Psychology, I was on my way. 

     I met Michael while being courted by a counseling
center based in a busy medical center in Dallas.  The
attraction was instant.  Our relationship grew quickly
from flirtatious smiles and risque' conversation to an
earth-trembling bout of afternoon sex amid site
proposals and treatment plans for current patients. 
Michael was very good.  We were very good together. 
Our affair remained quiet during my first year at the
clinic.  When Michael transferred to another
facility with a substantial promotion, our affair
became common knowledge.  

     Michael and I started drifting apart not long
after he transferred.  I know he was experiencing a new
stress in his life and I did all that I could to ease
his tension.  It was during one of my special
tension-reducing sessions that the condom broke.   
Michael panicked.  I assured him as best that I could
that the time of the month was wrong anyway.  

     Michael took the news harder than I thought.  In
fact, his reaction completely shocked me. The bliss I
felt in my newfound condition was doused with his
hurtful suggestions.  I thought Michael might have
wanted a child.  I was so wrong.

     And now, here I was, studying a waiting room full
of women in various stages of pregnancy, some with
other children, some without.  I was never going to be
alone again.  The thought made my stomach tighten and
my cheeks tingle.  "Oh shit."

     I barely made it to the conveniently stationed
restroom before losing my balanced breakfast.  I stood. 
My knee hurt from banging it against the linoleum.  The
putrid shade of mustard yellow wallpaper on the walls
made my stomach somersault again.  I clutched at my
belly.

     A knock sounded on the restroom door as I was
sipping a plastic cup of water.  "Ma'am? Are you all
right in there?  Do you need the doctor?"  Jeez, I
thought, aren't they used to women vomiting in this
place by now?

     "No, thank you.  I'm fine.  Just a little morning
sickness."  I opened the door and met the concerned
expression of an obstetrics nurse.  Her expression
turned from concern to relief and then surprise when
she noticed the tiny cup clutched in my hand.  I was
still shaking from my recent bout of morning sickness. 
Morning sickness was the wrong name, at least in my
experience so far.  How about all-day-sickness?

     "Oh.  You didn't actually drink from that cup, did
you?"  

     "Just a little water.  Why?"

     "Those cups are for urine specimens.  All the
moms-to-be have to fill one up every time they come
in."

     "I thought it was a little small."  I mumbled,
grimacing as my stomach lurched again.  I lost the rest
of what remained in my stomach.

     I felt her cool hand on the back of my neck as I
retched.  Pregnancy was going to be a bitch, I could
tell.  She dabbed at my forehead with a damp paper 
towel as I tried to recover some semblance of dignity.

     "Thank you, miss.  Miss--" I was searching for a
name plate on her bright and cheerful scrubs.

     "Call me Nancy. We'll be seeing a lot of each
other in the next few months.  And don't worry.  After
the first trimester you will be feeling a lot better." 
Nancy patted my back and brushed the stray brown curls
from my face.  I was feeling a little better.  "By the
way, are you Ms. Rogers?"

     "Yes.  Becca Rogers."  I dabbed at the tears under
my eyes and met her friendly smile. My lips trembled.  

     "I need to see you in exam room 3.  Dr. Trimble
had an emergency C-section to perform this morning and
he is still at the hospital.  He probably won't be back
in the office for another hour yet.  You can either
wait for him or see our new associate, Dr. Dixon."

     "No offense, but I would like to get out of here
as soon as possible.  I'll take the new guy.  If you
can recommend him, of course."  I smiled weakly as
another wave of nausea passed over me.  

     "Dr. Dixon is new but he is excellent.  I think
you will like him.  C'mon now.  Let's take your blood
pressure and your weight."

     "Great.  This day is going from bad to worse.  I
don't want to get weighed."  I whined as I plodded over
to the waiting scale.

     "You need to get used to it, darling.  We'll be
monitoring your weight very closely.  And your urine,
and your blood pressure and your diet.  You're either
going to love us or hate us by the time this baby is
born."  

     I had to smile through the tears and sickness. 
She was making me feel more comfortable.  That was
important.  What woman can really feel comfortable
preparing for a pelvic exam?  All right, I admit, it
wouldn't be the first time I allowed a vaguely unknown
man slide his fingers into my vagina.  Usually, though,
it was after dinner and a nice bottle of wine.  This
atmosphere just wasn't conducive to relaxation.

     "Okay, Miss Becca, one hundred and fifteen pounds. 
A little underweight for your height but don't worry. 
You will make up for it soon enough."  She patted my
back and led me to the examination room.

     "Underweight?  I can't think about food right now. 
Nothing sounds appetizing these days.  I'll never feel
like eating."  I whined again.

     Nancy only snickered as she handed me a paper gown
and a folded sheet.  Of course I knew what to do now. 
This wasn't my first time to see a gynecologist, and
the first time to see an obstetrician shouldn't be much
different.  I stared at the things in dumbfound agony. 
Nancy patted me on the back and left the room so I
could undress in privacy.

     I caught my reflection in the mirror above the
sink.  Once hazel, my eyes now appeared dull.  Shadows
stained the fair skin beneath my eyes.  My complexion
even looked gray. Chestnut curls, once springy and
lively, drooped against my back.  I wasn't getting
enough sleep although I felt tired all the time.  

     I slipped into the paper gown and noisily slid
onto the examining table.  All that crinkling
paper and cold air was making the butterflies in my
stomach leap around crazily.  I closed my eyes
and took a deep breath, trying to meditate myself into
a calm, relaxed state.  

     The knock on the door startled me.  "Yes?"

     "It's Dr. Dixon.  Are you decent?"

     "As decent as a paper product will allow." came my
reply.

     I heard his laughter before he opened the door. 
It was nice, and a little familiar.  When he stepped
over the threshold into the exam room, my heart stopped
and my stomach bubbled again.  "Greg?"

     "Rebecca?"  Dr. Greg Dixon stared at me in
surprise, a grin beginning to spread across his
very handsome face.

     I gawked at the grown version of my high school
crush.  Greg Dixon was always a nice looking kid with
his laughing pale blue eyes and silly grin.  Nothing
could have prepared me for this vision standing in
front of me with a stethoscope and a lab coat.

       "Becca Rogers?  What a pleasant surprise!  All
the way from Planterstown?"

     "Greg.  Oh my."  I suddenly felt naked.  I
clutched the front of my paper gown and smiled at him,
hoping he didn't notice the severe red blush that was
creeping up my neck.  "I had no idea you were--here. 
Or, a doctor even, much less a gynecologist.  Wow.  Um,
yes, a surprise is what I would say.  Definitely a
surprise.  A nice surprise, don't get me wrong.  But .
. . wow.   I mean, all the way from Planterstown.  No,
I didn't come all the way from Planterstown.  Well, I
mean, I did but it was many years ago.  I live here
now.  And...I'm .... really surprised to see you." 
Ugh, inwardly I cringed at my nervous babbling.

     "I haven't seen you since that five-year reunion
at my parent's house.  You were working on your masters
at Vanderbilt, right?"

     "Yeah, and you were on your way to Tulane."  Wow,
he remembered, I thought.  I realized I had pulled the
sheet up under my chin.  

     He laughed again, obviously amused at my
predicament.  Greg was one of the gang in high school. 
I considered myself a little homely and shy.  He was a
friendly guy, always joking, always happy and always
with a cute girlfriend.  I adored Greg.  He won a
special place in my heart for being so kind to me back
then.  "Hey, Becca, if this is uncomfortable for you I
can get Dr. Trimble to see you when he gets back. 
That's perfectly understandable."

     "Don't be silly.  We're adults now.  I'm sure
you've seen plenty of--" If it were possible to blush
any deeper, I was now.

     Greg laughed again.  "It's good to see you still
have your sense of humor.  Seriously, what do you want
to do?"

     "I'm okay with this.  Really.  In fact, I actually
trust you."  Coming from me, that was big.

     "Thanks Becca.  That means a lot to me."  His
expression changed a little from the jovial man to a
concerned professional.  He began flipping through my
file.  I was able to study him a little more while he
was reading over my records.  He had filled out. 
Nicely.  Gone was the long, shaggy hair and adolescent
complexion.  In its place was short dark hair, a little
wet and spikey, as if he had just stepped from the
shower.  His face was much more rugged and planed.  His
smile hadn't changed a bit, though.  "What brings you
here today?"

     I took a deep breath and steadied my nerves. 
"Well, Doc, it's like this.  I started feeling really
sick a few weeks ago.  Then I realized I had completely
skipped a period.  Stella at the pharmacy convinced me
I needed to check out one of those EPT things and it
turned blue and here I am."  There.  

     Greg flipped through my file, marking a few things
in his fast script.   "Your weight is good.  Blood
pressure is fine.  How far along do you think you are?"

     "Maybe six weeks.  I'm not sure."

     "Your husband doesn't remember?"

     I sat there in silence.  I cursed myself for
allowing a tear to cloud my eye.  My throat tightened. 
I looked up and met his blue eyes.  He understood in
that instance.

     "I'm sorry."

     "Don't be sorry.  I'm fine.  Really.  I'm a big
girl with a real job and real money.  I have my own
house and my debts are minimal.  I can do this by
myself.  I don't need the help of some pompous
asshole."  I swiped at the tear.

     "I take it the father doesn't want anything to do
with this?"  Greg began to rub soothing circles on my
back.  It felt so comforting.  Nancy came in with a
real glass of water and heard the last thing Greg said.

     "He doesn't want children.  Ever.  He is treating
this as a momentary lapse in judgment.  He will resume
our relationship if I get rid of the offending
organism."  I said this very sarcastically, making it
clear how I felt.  

     "I feel that I have a duty to inform you of your
options.  It's early enough."

     "No.  That is not an option for me.  When I saw
the little blue line, this baby became real to me.  I
want this baby.  I will raise this baby to be a good
human being, even if I have to do it without a father
figure."

     "That's good enough for me.  We'll do all we can
to bring this baby into the world as healthy as
possible.  If you ever need anything or have any
concerns, give Nancy or I a call and we'll help you
out.  Not only with medical concerns, but also with
resources for every aspect of the pregnancy and birth."

     I was feeling better already.  I had someone on my
side for once,  supporting my decision and offering
some guidance.  "Thanks Greg...I mean Dr. Dixon."

     "Greg to you, Becca, always.  Now, why don't we
get on with the examination?"

     "Right.  The examination."  I settled back on the
white paper and scooted down until my rear was perched
near the edge of the table.  Greg looked at me
quizzically.  "What?" I asked.

     "Eager for a pelvic, are you?  Let's do the
breasts first." He smirked.  I noticed the tiny scar by
his left eye and remembered when he got that scar.  We
were playing with fireworks on the fourth of July when
one misfired and scraped the side of his face.

     I rolled my eyes and grumbled my embarrassment,
situating myself farther up on the table. Greg pulled
apart the paper gown and laid his warm hands on my
right breast.  I looked up into his eyes, very afraid. 
He continued to talk to me, easing my nerves as his
fingers pushed gently into my giving flesh.  He looked
down briefly at my nipple before moving onto my left
breast. Again, his eyes found mine.  "How does that
feel?" He asked.

     That was a loaded question, I thought.  Greg, your
hands are massaging my breasts, what do you want me to
say?  Do it some more?  Yes . . . well, no.  Anyway . .
. "Sore.  Very sore."

     Greg nodded.  Obviously he couldn't read minds.

     "Now, scoot down to the edge."  Nancy guided my
feet into the stirrups and arranged the sheet over my
spread legs.  The bright light from the lamp warmed my
inner thighs.  I took a deep breath.  Then another.  

     Greg loomed over me, all broad shoulders and
authority.  He blocked the light from the lamp as he
stood between my legs.  He placed one hand gently on my
belly and positioned the other hand between my legs.  I
wonder if he knew just how nervous he was making me.

     This all seemed so surreal.  After all those
misspent years in high school lusting after this guy,
here he was about to go where few men have gone and I
was shaking like a schoolgirl.  He stirred temptations
within me.    I felt the fabric of his lab coat brush
against the tender flesh of my thigh.  He slipped his
lubricated fingers into my vagina.   Oh God, Did my
vagina embrace his fingers?  I fought the urge to arch
my back.  This was a doctor's office, for Godsakes. 
There was a nurse standing by the door watching every
move the doctor made.  This was not the time to get
horny.  Hormones, I rationalized.  I had read that
hormones while pregnant can make you do strange things. 
I was definitely feeling strange.

     "Everything feels great."  Greg remarked as he
removed his fingers from my vagina and snapped off his
gloves.  He turned to toss the latex gloves in the
trash while I awkwardly sat up, my feet pushing against
the stirrups.  I managed to free my legs and close them
before he turned back around.

     "That's good to hear."  I said.

     "I'm going to give you some prenatal vitamins and
some reading material.  Nancy will make another
appointment for you in four weeks.  Meanwhile, you get
enough rest, exercise and healthy food...no junk.  I
remember you had a passion for chocolate-covered
cherries.  No more than one chocolate-covered cherry a
day."  He smiled at me and patted my leg.  God, his
smile was still gorgeous.  All dimpled and sparkly.  I
wanted to grab him by the ears and kiss him silly. 
Hormones, Becca.  Traitorous hormones.  

     "You remember the chocolate-covered cherries?"

     "I remember a lot of things, Becca, like the time
you wanted to play football with the boys only to be
squashed under a pile of randy teenagers who tickled
you until you wet your pants."  Greg snickered.  "God
that was funny!"

     "Maybe to you.  I was horrified."  I couldn't help
but giggle.  That seemed so long ago.  

     "Here's my card.  Call me anytime, day or night,
if you have any problems.  Okay?  I need to move onto
the next patient.  I look forward to seeing you in four
weeks."  Greg squeezed my shoulder before he left the
examining room, leaving me to sigh after his broad
back.

     Four weeks.   I had to wait four weeks to see him
again?  He must be married with a couple of kids by
now.  I didn't think to check to see if he had on a
wedding ring.  Do OB/GYN's even wear rings?

     "Y'all know each other?"  I startled when I heard
Nancy speak.  I forgot she was in the room. 

     "We went to high school together. We were
friends."  I smiled at Nancy.

     "Good.  A friend of his.  Maybe you can talk some
sense into him about this bimbo he's been seeing
lately.  Just another airhead in a long line of
airheads."  Nancy remarked caustically.

     "Excuse me?"

     "Honestly, I don't know where he finds them. 
Jennifer I think her name is, she is so rude and snippy
when she calls for him, which is often.  Mind you, the
man has a packed schedule and she just doesn't seem to
understand that.  She just acts so bitchy all the
time."  Nancy quickly covered her mouth with her hand
and stared at me in disbelief.  "I can't believe I just
said that.  I apologize.  I just know her type.  Dr.
Dixon is too nice to end up with a woman like that."

     I slipped behind the curtain and began to get
dressed as Nancy continued to chat and straighten up
the exam room.  "I understand perfectly Nancy.  Greg, I
mean, Dr. Dixon, is a very nice man.  He was always
extremely wonderful to me during my awkward years in
school.  I will be forever grateful for him for giving
me a place in which I felt comfortable.  He did always
have a weakness for dumb blondes, though."  I laughed,
brushing my dark curls from my face.  "And, he is a
cutie."  I smiled at Nancy as I left the room.  "See
y'all in four weeks."

     So, Greg was single after all.  


     After my initial visit with Greg I began to see
myself in a new light.  My priorities had shifted from
brooding about Michael to taking care of myself and the
life growing inside me.  I eagerly read all the
material Greg had given me on prenatal care and took
the advice of a nutritionist and adjusted my diet.  I
was going to be the best pregnant woman I could be. 
Now, if the all-day morning sickness would just go
away.  

     My co-workers were beginning to suspect I was
either suffering from an incurable food allergy or I
was pregnant.  I couldn't hide my pregnancy forever so
I decided to tell my secretary. Telling Kathy is like
broadcasting on the office intercom.  By the end of the
day all my co-workers would be aware of my condition.

     The opportunity presented itself soon enough. 
After spending most of the morning trotting to and from
the ladies room, Kathy finally stepped into my office
with a look of concern on her over-made face.

     "Becca, I can't help but notice how pale you've
been looking lately.  And, it's a little obvious you've
been spending a lot of time in the ladies room.  Is
there something I can do for you?"  Kathy hovered over
me like a mother hen.  I was curled up on the sofa in
my office sipping ginger ale through a straw at the
time.  I imagine I did look a little different from my
usual prim and proper self behind the desk furiously
dictating into my microcassette recorder.

     "Actually, you can do something for me Kathy. 
Could you look in my bottom desk drawer and get that
box of crackers?"  Kathy looked at me strangely before
walking to my desk. 

     She handed me the box of crackers and smiled
cautiously.  "Becca, are you pregnant?"

     I sighed and sat up, tucking a few loose strands
of chestnut hair back into my French braid.  "Well, I
suppose it's no use trying to hide the truth from
everybody.  The evidence will present itself
eventually.  Yes, I am pregnant, about ten weeks along
now."  

     "Oh, honey, I'm so happy for you."  Kathy said,
smiling into my eyes.  "What about the father?  Oh,
no....that's too personal a question.  Nevermind I
asked that.  It's just that, in my day, we weren't
accepted if we were expecting and didn't have a ring on
our finger.  You know how it is."

     "Don't be concerned for me.  Times are different
now.  It's perfectly acceptable for a woman nowadays to
have a baby on her own.  Besides, the father was
horrified with the idea and I would much rather raise a
child in a happy home, not a forced home."

     Kathy patted my hand.  "You just rest a little
dear.  I remember how it was with my children.  I was
so sick for months.  I couldn't eat anything or go
anywhere.  It was miserable. With any luck you'll be
feeling better before the baby arrives.  Now tell me,
what can I get you?"

     I groaned and leaned back into the softness of the
couch.  She was sick for months?  I couldn't stand it
if I were sick for months.  Who would do my job for me? 
Who would counsel Brady and Dylan?  I was making
headway with those two and I couldn't give up on them
now. No, I wasn't going to be sick any longer than two
more weeks, three at the most.  Ha!  That's
what you think, that little voice in my head mocked. 
Just you wait....

     "Becca?"

     "Sorry, just thinking about being sick.  Really,
Kathy, thanks for everything, you're a wonderful lady. 
I promise if I need anything you will be the first to
know."  I smiled up at her before waving her off to
answer the door in the reception area. 
 
     I checked my watch.  11:00 a.m.  Dylan would be
here any moment now for his session.  I straightened my
skirt and searched for his file on my desk.  I slipped
back into my pumps, which were feeling a little tighter
than usual, and settled down into my chair.

     A brief knock sounded at my door before Kathy
peeked her head in.  "Dylan is here, would you like me
to send him in?"

     "Yes, please."

     Kathy disappeared among mumbled words uttered to
the surly youth waiting in the hall. Dylan Peters
slouched into my office and fell into the chair on the
other side of my desk.  He looked up at me and smiled
tentatively.  He was a nice kid.  He had a rough life
and alcoholic parents.  He acted out and enjoyed
intimidating others, but behind all the fear and anger,
he had a good soul.  

     "Hey, Dylan.  How's your week been?"

     "Not bad."  He muttered, sweeping his dyed-black
hair out of his eyes.  I noticed another piercing on
his eyebrow.  His sullen blue eyes met mine.  I often
wondered if my patients could sense pity in my eyes.  I
hoped they saw a kindred spirit, a kid who had been
there and knew exactly where they were coming from.  I
wanted Dylan to feel like he could overcome the sadness
his parents gave him.

     "On a scale of one to ten, how bad did that
piercing hurt?"  I pointed to the tiny silver
hoop dangling above his eye.  The skin around it was
slightly puffy and red.  

     "Mmmm . . . wasn't too bad."  Dylan looked down at
his hands and shrugged.

     "Last time we spoke you were telling me about your
mother making a reappearance after three days on the
run.  How has that been?"

     "Mom disappeared again.  It was his fault, you
know.  I know it and he knows it, but he still said
it's because of me.  He hates me.  He said I should
just move out."  Dylan huffed a breath and leaned back. 


     "Your father is a sick man, he can't see the
mistakes he has made and he wants to hurt your mother. 
He does that through you.  You aren't to blame.  Can
you still call your Aunt Sara?"

     Dylan nodded.  "I'm staying with her now.  I
haven't seen the old man in three days.  He could be
dead for all I know.  I wish he was." 
 
     Our session continued as usual.  Dylan revealed
his fear of being alone, of belonging.  His reaction to
the pain in his world was to demonstrate with
inappropriate behavior.  

     "I talked with Sam last night."  Sam worked at the
grocery store down the corner from the high school.  He
was incessantly happy and his good spirits were
contagious.  "He said he needs a little after school
and weekend help at the store.  Mainly restocking
shelves and occasionally making deliveries.  I
recommended you to him.  He would like to meet you.  Do
you think you might be interested?"

     Dylan shrugged.  "I guess I should be thinking
about a job, since I can't go home.  Aunt Sara can't
keep me forever if I can't help out with the rent and
all.  Sure, I'll go see him.  But--" Dylan looked over
at me shyly, tucking an oily strand of hair behind his
pincushioned ear, "--would you go with me?"  

     I couldn't help but smile.  "Sure. "  My stomach
flipped.  I felt suddenly dizzy and clamped my hand on
my belly.

     "Becca?"

     "I'm fine, just a little sick.   How about I meet
you at 2:00 at the Market?

     "Wouldn't your boyfriend be worried?  I mean, I
look like someone you wouldn't want to meet in an
alley, you know."  He smiled very slightly. 

     "Michael has no say in the matter.   This is just
two friends spending time together, nothing more. 
Besides, I know how well you hide the sweet person
beneath all that black and metal."

     "Okay.  I'll meet you Saturday.  Oh.  Thanks." 
Dylan scuffed through the door, lifting a hand in a
departing gesture.

     "No problem, Dylan.  I'll see you Saturday."  I
hoped by Saturday I would be feeling better.  I was not
going to let this kid down.

***

     My second appointment was coming up with Greg.  I
was looking forward to it, actually. My morning
sickness had dissipated to only short bouts of nausea
when I smelled greasy food or grass clippings.  I
didn't think this was too odd.  According to the books
I had picked up, a heightened sense of smell and
reactions to smells were normal during pregnancy.  

     I was enjoying being pregnant now.  My belly still
appeared flat.  When I lay my palm on my stomach and
spread my fingers I can just barely detect a hardened
ball of muscle underneath my skin.  It felt comforting.

     I prepared for this appointment more carefully
than the first.  Secretly I wanted Greg to see me as
attractive.  I would never tell him so.  I wouldn't
confide that to anyone.  I was feeling so beautiful
lately that I hoped it spilled over to others.  

     I let my hair drift over my shoulders and down my
back today.  My chestnut-colored hair had taken on a
lustrous shine and softness lately.   I was wearing a
short cotton sun dress in red, a dress I purchased on
my last trip to Barbados with Michael.  I thought I
should get the wear out of it while I still could,
while my stomach was still relatively flat.  My skin
was fair.  I didn't care for much makeup, just a bit of
mascara, blush and lipstick.  On this day I chose a
sumptuous shade of red for my lips.  Did I mention that
I was feeling very sexy?

     My legs were tanned from all the time I spent
walking in the park near my house.  I slathered scented
lotion on my limbs.  The slight scent of lavender
filled the exam room, adding to my good mood.  Nancy
had already commented on how much better I looked today
than the last time we met.  

     I looked up at the door and smiled as Greg came
through the door.  Only it wasn't Greg, it was Dr.
Trimble followed by Greg.  I hoped my smile hid my
disappointment.

     "Good morning Ms. Rogers.  I understand you will
be one of Dr. Dixon's first patients. It's just a
policy we have that I observe an exam and give a
passing grade to the board.  Rules,you know."  Dr.
Trimble smiled at me behind his bushy, gray mustache.  

     "Of course.  I understand."  

     "Now, all you need to do for today is slip off
your panties and lay the sheet over your lap. There's
no need for a breast exam today.  We'll just do a
pelvic and you can go."  

     I blushed a little at the mention of my panties. 
Dr. Trimble was elderly and I noticed he treated some
of his patients a bit unconventionally.  That was fine
with me, as long as he didn't put things where they
didn't belong.  Greg on the other hand . . . .

     Speaking of Greg, I caught his amused look over
Dr. Trimble's shoulder.  I smiled back.  "Well, could
you two at least turn your backs so a lady can slip out
of her panties?"

     It was Dr. Trimble's turn to blush as Greg choked
on a laugh.  "We will just step out into
the hallway.  Oh, and we will knock before entering." 

     "Thank you."  Nancy and I giggled like two
devilish schoolgirls when the men left the room.  "I
shouldn't have said that but I couldn't resist.  I'm
feeling so much better lately and I can't help myself
sometimes."  

     The exam went well.  I wonder sometimes if
something is wrong with me.  Here I was, legs spread
wide and wantonly in a cold exam room with a gloved
hand probing my most private and delicate parts and I
was feeling aroused.  Could Greg and Dr. Trimble see
the outline of my hard nipples beneath the red fabric
of my dress?  I hoped that they could.  I was deranged. 
A lunatic.  

     After the exam Greg returned to the room to give
me a few more pointers and the results of my latest
urine test.  As I was gathering my purse to leave, he
stopped, hand on the doorknob and looked at me. 
"Becca, I couldn't help but notice that you live at
3201 Washburn.  I just bought a condo out there.  Maybe
I'll run into you at the park one day.  Or the pool. 
By the way, red is definitely your color."  He winked
and smiled before stepping out.  My heart skipped a
beat.  Wetness dripped into my panties.  Was it the
remains of the KYJelly or my own lubrication?
 
     The days were passing slowly.  I noticed little
things about myself that took on a new significance. 
My breasts felt tender but not uncomfortably sore.  My
nipples, once light brown, had darkened and grown a
little larger.  I noticed for the first time little
milk-like blisters forming on the areola.  These didn't
feel like blisters.  I just didn't know how else to
describe them.  

     I often stood naked in front of my full length
mirror in the bedroom and studied my blooming body.  I
had gained a little weight.  My breasts had filled in
somewhat.  My belly had taken on the graceful curve of
a pregnancy four and a half months along.  I didn't
worry about my lost waistline, instead I reveled in the
newfound awakening in my body.  

     I sat in my vanity chair and faced my reflection. 
I opened my legs, spreading myself open with my
fingers.  I was amazed at the sight of my swollen and
darkened labia.  All my senses were heightened to a new
level.  I was never embarrassed to look at myself, to
examine my pussy in the privacy of my home.  My giving
cunt had served me well over these years.  Never giving
up the fight, always giving in to powerful,
body-throbbing orgasms for me to relive.  I lightly
pulled back  my soft hood, watching my clitoris in
reverence.  My finger stroked the smooth folds of my
sex,which felt velvety and soft.  I tickled my clitoris
with my middle finger and passed my tongue over my lips
as the usual flow of wetness slicked my swollen sex. 
It wasn't long before my stroking gave way to another
satisfying orgasm.  Ahhh . . . the body is a beautiful
thing.  

     The crystal blue shimmer of the complex's swimming
pool beckoned me. The pool and jacuzzi were usually
empty, but on this Sunday a few people lounged around
the pool.  I decided to take it easy and read a book by
the water after finishing my routine walk.

     I decided to wear a red tank suit I picked up on a
recent shopping trip.  After Greg made the comment
about red being a good color for me, I found myself
buying more clothing in red.  I was proud of my bulging
belly and didn't feel the least bit embarrassed about
showing it off.  I slipped an oversized T-shirt and a
pair of roomy shorts over my swimsuit and left my
house.    

     The dreaded summer heat had not set in yet.  The
park was shady and breathtaking in its early summer
splendor.  Vinca, zinnia and mounds of daisies' were in
bloom.  Jasmine crept along the wrought iron security
fence that separated the condominium units from the
public park.  The heady fragrance of the blooms made me
inhale deeply.  It was that moment I have etched in my
mind for eternity.  I stopped in my tracks, hands over
my belly and prayed for the feeling again.  There!  It
happened again.  I knew instantly what it was.  What
else could it be?  I felt my baby move inside me for
the first time.  The life growing inside me stirred and
I felt it.  Tears clouded my vision.  More than one
person gave me a quizzical look as they jogged past.  I
didn't care.  This was a day to remember.

     Greg.  That's the next coherent thought that came
to my mind.  I want to tell Greg.  I know he said we
lived in the same complex but there were so many units. 
I never ran into him.  Maybe he would be taking
advantage of the beautiful day too.  Maybe I'll spend
more time lounging by the pool.  Maybe I'll see his
smiling face, his sexy swagger, hear his smooth voice. 
Maybe I will see him on this beautiful, memorable day. 
Maybe.

     Nothing could have wiped the smile from my face. 
Not even walking upon Greg and his girlfriend at the
pool.  I didn't care that I had interrupted their kiss. 
I ignored the look on her face when Greg pulled away to
greet me.  All I saw was Greg.  He filled my vision. 
The smile on his face created a sparkle in his eyes, a
sparkle I wanted to cause.  It was a hard realization
to face, but at that moment I felt love stirring in the
back of my mind, snaking it's wicked way down my
spine to ebb and flow into the rest of my limbs.  I was
falling in love.  

     "The baby moved.  I felt it!"  I gushed.

     "Yeah?  That's fantastic, Becca.  What did it feel
like?  A flutter or a kick?"

     I froze.  The color drained from my face.  "It was
a flutter.  Why?  Does that mean something is wrong?"   

  
     "No, no.  Oh God Becca, I didn't mean to scare
you.  Everything is just fine.  Don't worry.  You've
been doing everything right.  C'mon and sit down."  He
patted the chair next to him, across from the woman. 
The woman was now studying me with what looked to be
curiosity, and maybe a little contempt.  True, I
couldn't see her eyes behind her sunglasses, but the
slight sneer on her lips said a lot.

     "Greg, I don't want to intrude.  I just couldn't
hold back.  I wanted to tell someone and I saw you and.
. . "

     "You're not intruding.  I'm glad we finally ran
into each other.  Here, sit down."  He pulled the chair
out, patting the seat.  I sat.

     "Becca, this is Jennifer.  Jennifer, Becca is an
old friend of mine and a new patient."  Greg looked
from me to her, a big smile on his face.

     "It's nice to meet you, Jennifer."  I extended my
hand.

     "Becky.  How nice to meet you, too."  She smiled
and leaned forward, lightly taking my hand in hers. 
Her generous breasts nearly popped out of her bikini
top.  I noticed the woman was beautifully . . .
sculpted.  Yes, sculpted.  Her breasts didn't seem to
have the natural fall and slope of real breasts.  I
didn't want to be 'catty', but her nose didn't look too
real either.   Her legs were long and lean and her hair
was Summer Blonde number 38.  Greg's taste in women
wasn't a big surprise.  What man wouldn't fall for a
gorgeous Barbie doll type?  

     "I haven't been called Becky since first grade. 
Please call me Becca."  I sat back in my chair and
continued to study the woman that had captured Greg's
attentions.  We couldn't be more opposite.  Still, I
wondered if Greg felt the least bit attracted to a
woman like me.  

     "Pregnancy agrees with you, Becca.  It's true what
they say about pregnant women.  Y'all do glow."  Greg
winked at me.  Jennifer uncrossed her legs, recrossing
them languidly.  We both couldn't help but look at her
display of sultry tanned and toned leg.  

     I could tell this afternoon was going to become
awkward very fast.  I was uncomfortable under the
scrutiny of Jennifer.  The more I watched them, the
more I felt like a third wheel. Jennifer was beautiful
and demanded attention from all the people in her
vicinity.  I was beginning to feel frumpy.  No, I
wasn't going to allow this unpregnant-looking woman to
unknowingly create doubts in my blossoming body.  So,
despite my unlimited energy, I faked a yawn.  "Greg,
Jennifer, I'm afraid I need a nap.  Y'all enjoy the
afternoon."  I stood and waved, walking away
before anything else could be said except "Goodbye and
sleep well."

***
     It felt wonderful to be able to admire the rows
and rows of food at the grocery store without feeling
ill.  My appetite had grown measurably.  I also noticed
a few odd cravings, foods I desperately wanted to eat
before which never appealed to me.  Green beans and
cream gravy, tortilla chips with ketchup, pistachios
and peanut butter.  I was picking apples from a display
when a familiar person caught my eye.  It was Dylan.  

     I observed him for a few minutes.  He seemed more
relaxed.  The once unkempt black- died hair which
obscured his attractive face was now tied neatly back
in a pony tail at the nape of his neck.  He wore a
denim shirt and khaki pants, the standard uniform for
the Marketplace.  He was actually smiling and talking
to a customer, apparently helping her locate an item on
her list.  

     He finally looked up and noticed me watching.  I
waved to him and smiled when he waved back.  "Becca!"
Dylan called out.  "Hey, how are you doing?"  

     "Fine, Dylan.  You look like you're doing fine
also.  Do you like your new job?"

     "Yeah.  I like feeling useful, you know.  The
people here are very nice, especially Sam.  I already
got a little extra responsibility added to my job
description.  It's working out.  I'm making enough
money to pay Aunt Sara a little for keeping me, feeding
me.  I get a discount on our groceries and, you won't
believe this, my grades have even improved a little."  

     "Dylan, that is so wonderful.  I'm so happy for
you."  Truly, I think Dylan had made a breakthrough.

     "But, I mean, that doesn't mean, like, I have to
stop seeing you?  For our sessions, I mean?"  Dylan
asked.

     "No, of course not.  I would like to keep in touch
with what's going on in your life.  We could probably
lengthen the time between appointments, though."  I
smiled at him, noticing a slight shift in his demeanor.

     "Oh.  Yeah, I guess we could do that.  Is that
what my probation officer would tell you to do or is
that your idea?"  He asked.

     "Mr. Griffin would probably want you to continue
seeing me as per your usual schedule.  Eventually,
maybe after three more months or so, he would suggest
tapering off.  We don't have to do that, though, if you
feel the need for our discussions."  

     Dylan nodded, his smile growing a little brighter. 
"Yeah.  Okay.  I don't want to change anything yet." 
He looked over my shoulder and smiled brightly at Sam. 
"Hey Sam.  Look who's here."

     I turned to Sam.  Sam could be my grandfather.  He
was an elderly Italian man with the happiest
disposition.  You couldn't help but smile when you were
around him.  

     "What's a pretty lady like you doing shopping on
such a beautiful day?  Eh?  You should be out with your
boyfriend, at the park or the zoo, making him propose
to you.  C'mere."  Sam engulfed me in a hug.  He pulled
back.  "What's this?  You finally eating good?"

     "Well, yes and no."  I smiled at Sam's questioning
look.  "I'm going to have a baby in a few months."  Sam
hugged me again in a tight hug, cooing and speaking
incoherently.  I noticed Dylan smiling at me also. 

     "I didn't know you were pregnant.  Are you getting
married?"  Dylan asked.

     "Um.  No.  Michael and I are no longer together. 
He wasn't the fatherly type.  Me and junior are going
it alone."  I patted my belly, feeling defensive and
protective suddenly.  

     "Nonsense, Becca.  You have your friends.  Eh? 
You tell me what you need and I get it for you.  Food,
no problem.  Tell me what you crave.  My Isabella
always craved artichoke hearts. I bought them by the
case.  Good thing I was in the grocery business. 
Artichoke hearts don't come cheap.  Now, tell me, there
must be something you and the little one are hungry
for?"  Sam asked.

     "Actually, I'm looking for pistachios.  And I'm
out of peanut butter."  

     "Pistachios?  No problem at all."

     The three of us wandered around the deli section
of the store, talking and laughing together for the
next half hour before I had to leave.  Yes, I have
wonderful friends.  

     I turned over in bed and looked at the clock. 
5:00 a.m.  I trudged to the bathroom for my third pee
of the night.  My alarm would be going off in an hour
so I decided to stay up.  I pulled on a pair of shorts
and a T-shirt and made my way to the front door for my
Reeboks and a quick walk. 
 
     It was still dark outside but the surrounding area
was always kept well-lit.  I locked my front door,
tucking the key beneath the mat and started to walk
down the brick sidewalk.  Something was out of place. 
I could see it from the corner of my eye.  I kept my
porch neat and free of clutter.  The only thing on my
porch was a doormat.  On the shallow step leading to my
narrow porch sat a single red rose.

     I stooped to pick up the rose, shivering a little
from the morning breeze.  Or was it the gift?  I
examined the rose.  It was perfect in its velvety
beauty.  A deep burgundy red and fragrant.  My eyes
scanned the surrounding area for any stranger or a
glimpse of who might have left this on my step.  The
morning was silent and still.  I turned and went back
into my house, puzzled over the gift.

***

     July was settling in hotter than usual.  At least
it felt hotter.  I could find no way to stay cool
except walk around my home naked or soak in the pool. 
The times I was forced to wear clothing were getting to
be unbearable.  The baby's kicks and movements were
much more noticeable now.  I was now six months
pregnant.  My girth had expanded to the point that I
was no longer able to get by wearing loose fitting
clothing.  I had finally graduated into maternity
wear.

     "Oooo, Becca.  New outfit?"  Nancy said as soon as
she waved me into the examining room.

     "Do you like it?  It's the latest in tent wear." 
I said sarcastically.  

     "Maternity clothes are definitely not the cutest
clothes on the rack.  But we make do.  You should have
seen them when I was younger.  All lacy collars and
bows.  It was enough to make me want to hibernate." 
Nancy laughed.  

     I kicked off my low-heeled pumps and shimmied onto
the table.  I was becoming matronly.  Gone were the
sexy pumps I enjoyed wearing and in their place were
sensible shoes.  The only thing that could cheer me up
was Dr. Greg's gorgeous appearance.

     He came through the door busily flipping through
my chart.  He didn't bother to look up until he stood
directly in front of me.  From my seated position on
the exam table I came eye to eye with the man I admired
from afar.  "How are you feeling Becca?"  He looked
tired.  His demeanor lacked the usual zest.  

     "Fat."

     He smirked.  "Besides that.  Any spotting, cramps,
unusual headaches?"  

     "No."

     "I have a little surprise for you today.  How
would you like to get your first look at that
baby?"  

     He couldn't have made me happier.  Unless he
kissed me, of course.  But this was pretty damn good. 
"When?"

     "Now.  Nancy is getting the ultrasound cart right
now.  I just need you to lie down and lift up your
shirt."  

     I manuevered my growing bulk on the table,
adjusting the flat little pillow behind my head.  I
slid my shirt up over my belly.  My skin was taut and
shiny from the pregnancy.  A little lump pushed up
against the skin.  "Did you see that!"  I said.

     "Looks like you may have a soccer player in there. 
Is the baby moving around a lot?"  Greg asked.

     "Oh yes.  Especially at night when I'm trying to
sleep.  I think he is trying to train me for the
future."  We both laughed.

     Nancy came in with the cart.  Greg squirted a cold
blob of gel on my belly and a little on the end of the
hand piece.   Gently he pulled the waistband of my
pants down far enough to reveal the rest of my belly. 
A vague trail of pubic hair was visible from the
bunched up fabric around my hips.  That was even
growing a bit more prolific these days.  

     Greg slid the handpiece around on my belly,
slipping and sliding through the gel.  It was
cold at first but soon warmed with my body heat. 
"There.  See?  There is the baby's head . . . and
that's the spine . . . that flashing right there is the
heart . . . arms, hands, fingers, legs. . . do you
want to know the sex?"  

     I just stared at the screen.  There he or she was. 
The life inside of me.  A new human being nurtured and
solely dependent on me.  There really was a baby in
there.  "Huh?"

     "I can tell you whether it's a boy or girl if you
would like."

     "No.  I don't want to know the sex.  It doesn't
matter.  Oh my God.  Is he, or she, all there?  I mean,
is everything doing what it is supposed to do? " I
couldn't peel my eyes from that snowy picture.  The
baby moved.  At the same time I felt a little jab in my
side.   It was a miracle.  

     Greg stroked my arm.  "Everything looks great.  I
have no doubt that you are going to deliver a healthy
baby.  And beautiful.  Especially since he or she has
your genes."  He smiled down at me.  I shivered,
blushed and smiled back.  

     Later, Nancy handed me a few pictures of my
ultrasound, my first baby pictures she quipped.  I was
still in a fog of maternal bliss.  I didn't even notice
Greg coming back into the exam room with my chart.  

     "Becca, everything is going according to plan. 
Your weight is slightly below what I would like to see
but that's okay.  We have plenty of time to make up for
it.  Have you had any unusual cravings?"  Greg asked.

     I sighed and looked at him.  God, he was
beautiful.  Tanned skin, crystal blue eyes, nice
lips, dark hair cut close to his head, broad shoulders,
his teeth were even beautiful.  His hands were like the
hands of an artist-smooth and strong.  Talented hands. 
Oh how I wanted those talented hands to touch me.  
"I'm sorry.  What?"  I said.

     He smiled.  "Any unusual cravings?"

     Yes, I thought with mischief, you and a can of
whipped cream.  "Pistachio's, for some reason.  I love
pistachio's right now.  And peanut butter.  And chicken
fried steak is sounding really good today.  What time
is it?  Must be time for lunch."

     Greg laughed.  I could listen to that laugh for
the rest of my life and never grow sick of it. 
I watched the way his throat moved when he laughed.  I
couldn't help but laugh along with him.  Then I
worried.  Was I falling in love with this man just
because he was my doctor?  Because he was a man that
was taking care of me?  Would my feelings fade after
the baby was born and I didn't need him?  I didn't like
the thoughts my doubts were stirring.  He was real.  He
was genuine, kind-hearted and intelligent.  He was
attractive.  He was a good soul.  I could fall in love
with him whether he was a doctor, lawyer or Indian
chief.  I loved him.  Greg.  The man I became friends
with years ago.

     "It's a little early for lunch but in your
condition you are allowed to take an early lunch. 
Cramer's has excellent chicken fried steak, by the way. 
I have to sneak take out from there all the time." 
Greg said with a wink.

     "Why?  I mean, why do you have to sneak around to
eat there?"  

     "Jennifer has a fit if she finds any takeout or
spare menus lying around my house from that restaurant. 
She doesn't think the food is healthy.  Says it has too
much fat and cholesterol."  

     "Well, if you ever need to get your Cramer's fix,
give me a call and we'll go together.  Or, better yet,
I'll let you hide out at my house while you eat your
chicken fried steak.  Just don't forget to bring me
some."  I laughed, covering my embarrassment.  Did I
really just invite myself out with him?

     "That's a deal.  If I don't see you before your
next appointment, you be sure and remind me.  I need to
see you in three weeks."  He slid his hand along my
arm.  My arm remained warm and tingly after he left the
room.  

     I sat behind my desk looking over Dylan's recent
progress report.  His probation officer had noticed a
change in Dylan, for the better.  I spoke with Sam at
the Marketplace this morning and received nothing but
praise.  Dylan was due for his next appointment any
minute now.

     I wasn't prepared for the young man that walked
through my door.  He was dressed in black jeans and a
trendy-looking shirt.  His hair was slicked back and
secured in a tail.  He was walking tall and smiling.

     "Dylan.  It is so nice to see you.  I can tell
from just looking at you that there has been a change
for the better.  Tell me about it."

     Dylan sat across from me and smiled.  This wasn't
the same sulky teenage boy who had committed a home
break-in just ten months earlier.  He seemed relaxed
for once.  "I really like working at the store.  Sam is
so cool.  I only missed a couple of days of school in
the last month, but that was because I had the flu. 
I'm even starting to understand old man Pembleton and
his geometry."

     "Wonderful.  I have a secret to tell you.  I
failed my first semester of geometry.  I never quite
understood all those equations and formulas.  I guess
that's why I'm not an engineer or math teacher."  We
both chuckled.  "How's your mother?  Did she ever come
back home?"

     Dylan exhaled slowly, bracing himself for talking
about the subject he always tried to avoid.  "No. 
She's staying with my grandma.  Her and dad had another
fight.  This time the cops got involved and hauled my
dad off to jail.  He's going to have to go through a
counseling program, anger management or something like
that...and AA.  My grandma is still trying to convince
mom she needs counseling too."

     "I'm sorry about your dad getting arrested.  Maybe
that's what he needed to wake him up.  It didn't seem
like he was going to seek out help on his own.  This is
a step in the right direction, in a roundabout way.  I
have a feeling your mom is seeking sanctuary with your
grandmother because she feels safe.  Your grandmother
may be the one to convince her to take another look at
her life.  In the meantime, you just worry about Dylan. 
You can't be responsible for their problems.  You look
like you are handling yourself in a much more adult way
than they are.  You should be proud of yourself,
Dylan."

     "I can't believe it's happened like this, either. 
I mean, I wanted to die so many times.  Now I look
forward to having to be somewhere and accomplishing
something.  It's made me think, you know, about the
future and stuff.  I'm going to apply for the
scholarships the Marketplace awards every year.  Who
knows.  Maybe I'll be able to go to college and be
something."

     "Dylan, you are something."

     "And I met this girl who works in the floral
department.  She is really cool.  We like the same
music and movies and stuff.  She is even kinda showing
me a few things about flowers and plants."

     "What's her name?"

     "Grace."

     "Beautiful name.   Your probation officer has
received nothing but glowing reports about you, I have
nothing but good things to say about you.  You have
clearly made a change for the better in your life.  I
think we could even consider lengthening the time
between our meetings."

     The fallen look on his face nearly made me cry. 
"Look.  Feel free to call on me at anytime.  And we
don't have to make any changes yet.  I will always be
here to help you, Dylan.  Always.  Besides, I'm sure
I'll be running into you a lot at the grocery store. 
I've been eating at least three times as much lately." 
I tried vainly to make him smile.

     "Oh.  Yeah.  How's the baby?"

     "Fine.  Thank you for asking."

     "Still craving pistachio's and peanut butter?"

     "And lime sherbert.  Don't ask me why."  We
laughed again.

     "Okay Becca.  I'll see you around.  Maybe I'll
introduce you to Grace next time I see you at the
store."

     "I would love that."  I smiled up at Dylan and
extended my hand for a handshake.  He hugged me close
instead.

     "I'll be seeing you."  Dylan closed the door
quietly behind him.  Something he said struck
a chord in my mind. He worked around the floral
department.  Could Dylan have been the one to leave the
rose on my porch?

***

     After my last patient I decided to leave a little
early.  4:30 is a little early for me.  I entered
the parking lot from the rear of the building and found
my car easily enough.  I had earned a reserved parking
spot a few years earlier.  

     I dug around in my purse for my keys.  I had the
bad habit of carrying around a large purse and
proceeded to stuff every single unnecessary item into
it.  Now when I need to find something, I find all
sorts of odds and ends instead. Finally I felt my keys
in the bottom of my bag and fished them out.  While I
was pushing the key into the lock I noticed another red
rose on the windshield of my car tucked under the
drivers side windshield wiper blade.

     I put the rose in the passenger seat.  I wondered,
should I be alarmed or flattered?

***

     Over the last several weeks it became habit for
Greg and I to run into each other at the park at dusk
and walk around it together.  We talked over old times,
relayed stories and gossip from those days, we even
talked about current events such as politics. 
Invariably we would stop for frozen yogurt or a cup of
decaf.  Our friendship picked up where it left off all
those years ago. I wasn't satisfied.  I wanted more.

***

     Just my luck, as I was getting ready for my walk
around the park I felt a little twinge of pain in my
back.  I rationalized in my mind what was happening. 
The weight of the baby was giving my back muscles a
little strain, that's all.  Maybe I will forego my walk
for today and rest in the pool for a while.  

     At 6:00 in the evening the temperature outside was
sultry enough to swim in the pool.  Besides, I had an
ingrown heater which was set at roast.  The cool water
felt soothing on my skin.  It also eased my tired
muscles and swollen ankles.  

     "Hey beautiful."  I froze when I heard Greg's
voice coming from behind me.  I turned slowly, wiping
the wet strands of hair from my face and smiled
awkwardly.  He was wearing his swim trunks.  Yeah, they
were nice but his legs and chest were much nicer. 

     "Greg.  What a nice surprise.  Not working late
tonight?"  I asked as I desperately tried to remember
if I had shaved my legs that morning.

     "No.  Tuesdays I always get off a little early.  I
never see you around at this time of night.  How are
you feeling?"  Greg lowered himself to the side of the
pool, dangling his feet and well formed calves into the
cool water.

     "Fine.  Just fine.  I've been so hot lately, this
pool is exactly what I need.  It's either that
or walk around naked."  Oh God, why did I say that? 
I'm sure the idea of my naked body sauntering around
the pool was a definite turn off to him after being
around Miss Jennifer of Centerfold Fame's bod.

     Greg laughed and slipped into the pool.  When he
emerged he was standing in front of me. His hair was
slicked back from his dip.  Beads of water dripped from
his forehead and chin and sparkled on his dark
eyelashes.  His eyes were bluer than blue.  "You won't
hear me complain."

     I splashed him playfully.  We continued to play
back and forth just like we were the giddy teenagers of
years ago.  So much had changed since then.  I slipped
back once and sputtered when I came up out of the
water.  Greg stopped and watched me with the sweetest
look on his face.  "Okay?  Giving up so soon?"  He
asked as he stepped closer to me.  I was still trying
not to choke.

     "I don't give up that easily, if that's what you
are suggesting.  I've only just begun.  But just to
make this fair, why don't you stuff that basketball
over there down your shorts and see if it throws you
off balance a little bit."  I giggled at the thought. 
I guessed that Greg didn't have much room to spare in
those swim trunks.  Oh, to be able to find out for
sure...

     He steadied me with his hands.  They burned into
my warm wet skin and sent a surge of desire through my
body.  The baby stirred, undoubtedly in response to the
sudden onslaught of emotion that was raging within me. 
I couldn't tear my eyes from his.  My breasts felt
heavy and sensitive.  My nipples contracted in response
to all that he was doing to me physically.  And all he
had done was lay his hands on my arms.

     We stood looking into each other's eyes for a few
precious moments.  Greg was the first one to break
away.  "That balcony over there, the one with the red
flowers on it . . . " I looked in the direction he was
pointing.  

     "The one with the geraniums?  What about it?"  I
looked at him suspiciously.

     "That's your condo, isn't it?"  He asked, looking
back at me.

     I smiled up at him.  "Yes, it is.  How did you
know?"

     "I saw you come home from work the other day."

     "Where were you that you couldn't say hello to
me?"  I asked in a playful way.

     "I was in my bedroom, looking out the window." 

     I was feeling like an adolescent, or at least a
sex-starved woman.  Hu hu hu . . . He said bedroom. . .
Beavis and Butthead came to mind.  "Where do you live?"

     "You're not going to believe this.  I'm next door
to you."  His smile grew.

     My knees wobbled.  Probably from the weight I was
supporting.  "What a coincidence.  We'll just have to .
. . I don't know . . . wave at each other through our
windows or something." I shrugged, feeling nearly
speechless with excitement.

     "There you are!"  We both startled and turned to
the voice.  Jennifer was walking toward the pool in a
sexy little swimsuit, all white with barely enough
fabric covering her much-too-perfect bouncing breasts. 
Her hips swayed deliciously with each step.  Her hair
was pinned up in a sexy, tousled blonde do.  "I've been
looking all over the place for you, Greg. I thought you
were going to give me that massage you've been
promising."  Jennifer pouted prettily, her bright
pink lips lusciously moist.

     "Hello Jennifer."  I said in greeting.  What I
wanted to say was "fuck off, can't you see we're busy?"

     "Oh.  Hello.  Beth, isn't it?"  

     "Becca.  Don't mind me.  I'm just here for a short
swim.  Do whatever it is you two do."  I wasn't going
to leave just yet.  I was curious after all.

     "Swim?  Is it all right for you to be doing that
in your condition?  I mean, you look like you are about
ready to pop.  I would think you should be afraid of
sinking."  She insulted me graciously, smiling sweetly
and innocently the whole time.  I knew her type.  I
wasn't going to let her get to me that easy.

     "Actually, Greg examined me yesterday and
pronounced me in fine condition.  He even surprised me
with an ultrasound and the first real pictures of my
baby."  I gloated.  Jennifer's lips tightened.

     "How sweet."

     I caught Greg's eye as I drifted back away from
him.  He was enjoying this!  He had a grin on his face
watching these two women bicker over him.  That was
enough.  I swam to the edge of the pool and heaved
myself out of the water.  I may look like a whale but I
was a dignified whale.

     "Leaving so soon?"  Greg asked.

     "Something just came up.  I need to make a few
phone calls and such.  You two have a good time."  I
smiled, all the while covering the disappointment I
felt in Jennifer's appearance.

     I let myself into my house with the key I kept
under the mat.  I needed to stop doing that, especially
with a baby in the house eventually.  It just wasn't
safe these days.  I pouted a little before drifting off
to sleep on my couch while watching Chicago Hope
reruns.

     I felt his warm breath on my neck.  A nibble to
the skin of my neck made me arch against him.  He
licked the length of my throat, stopping at the swell
of my tingling breasts.  He stroked the tops of my
breasts with his delightfully rough chin.  Again I
arched.  His mouth closed in on one of my nipples.  I
sank my fingers into his hair and pulled gently.  His
mouth worked its way expertly over my breasts and the
hard peaks of my aroused nipples.  He nibbled, sucked
and pulled, occasionally flicking his tongue over the
sensitive points.  I moaned loudly.  His hand
stroked my belly, round, hard, full of life and love
and growth.  His touch was warm and wonderful.  I
showed him my appreciation by pushing him down on my
bed, my fingers clasped around his hard cock.  I began
to pump, the same time his fingers searched the private
folds and confines of my wet pussy.  I moved against
his fingers, in time with the movements of my hand. 
And then my mouth.  I lowered my mouth over the
glistening head of his penis and began to take
him in.  I paused to look into the eyes of my lover,
only to be met with the excited eyes of Dylan.  
"Becca."  

      I jolted awake while still in the wake of an
orgasm.  I sometimes experienced orgasms while I sleep. 
Of course I'm awake by the time they are over.  What a
pleasant way to wake up. But this time my dream lover
was Dylan.  A patient of mine.  I felt a little guilty. 
I mean, get real, Dylan would never know, but I would. 
I needed something sweet to ease my latest craving.

     I didn't sleep very well anymore.  I was forced to
sleep on my side now, a pillow tucked between my legs
and under my belly.  I had always slept on my stomach
before.  I awoke around 11:00 pm.  The room was dark
except for a sliver of moonlight shining through the
drapes.  I stood up and stretched, kneading the knot in
the small of my back.

     I had stripped off all my clothes earlier.  I was
growing used to the look and feel of my new body. 
Besides, I was much more comfortable without any
binding garments squeezing me. My body was telling me I
needed something sweet, like chocolate.  I settled for
a glass of milk.  

     Silently I stepped onto my terrace and faced the
full moon.  I didn't worry about anyone seeing me.  The
brick wall surrounding my back yard kept vision
blocked.  At least I thought it did.  

     As I turned to the right a brace of light and
movement caught my eye.  I watched in silence as the
couple to just the right of me were becoming intimate
in their dining room.  It was too dark for them to see
me but they were standing in the full light of the
dining room chandelier. The window was open, the slight
night breeze teasing the sheer curtains at their
window.  I watched in voyeuristic fascination as the
woman removed her nightgown.  Her skin was evenly
tanned, long-limbed, a deep dip in the waist and a
gentle swell of hips.  Her blonde hair was loose
and flowing around her shoulders.  She moved a little
and my heart leapt into my throat as I recognized them. 
Greg and Jennifer.

     From my vantage point I watched as she untied the
drawstring to his silk pajama pants.  I felt guilty for
watching but I just couldn't tear myself away from this
arousing sight.  She flattened her hands against his
chest, pushing him back onto the glass table.  The silk
pants slipped down his muscular thighs and skimmed his
calves.  I didn't breathe.  His penis stood hard, thick
and proud before Jennifer.  If only I could have
changed places with her.  If only.

     He leaned back, exposing himself to her.  She bent
over him, crushing his penis between her full breasts. 
She began to move back and forth slowly, with each
stroke I saw the muscles in his narrow hips flex.   

     She released her breasts and stood before him.  I
saw her fingers working at her nipples, pulling,
tugging and pinching while he watched with sultry eyes. 
She opened her legs and bent over him, exposing her sex
to me and anyone else watching while going down on
Greg's impressive cock.  Her head began to bob up and
down, his eyes closed and jaw muscles clenched. His
hips began to involuntarily thrust and flex with her
attentions.  It wasn't long before he orgasmed.  I knew
precisely when he emptied his load into her mouth.  She
made a big show of swallowing all of the cum he gave to
her, even licking the remainder from him.  

     It was at that second I messed up.  The glass of
milk slipped from my hands and crashed against the
brick floor.  Both turned and looked.  They saw me,
Greg a look of guilt, confusion and passion in his
expression, Jennifer a look of triumph.  I hurried back
into my house, locking the french doors behind me.  And
cried.  

     I don't know exactly why I cried.  Emotions run
high while pregnant, I'm told.  I knew then that I
wanted this man so desperately, so completely, and I
was never going to be able to have him.  He didn't need
me.  He never made it clear he even wanted me.  Now he
caught me watching one of the most intimate moments, a
moment not meant to be shared.  I was horrified. 
How will I ever face him again?

***

     "Becca, a delivery came for you this morning.  I
put it on your desk."  Kathy smiled brightly up at me
from behind her monitor.  I managed a smile, hoping she
didn't notice my puffy eyelids.  No amount of cold
packs on my face would reduce the swelling of a night
spent crying.  

     I tossed my briefcase in a nearby chair and stared
at the lovely basket.  Tucked between fresh fruit and
bottles of designer water was a big bag of pistachios. 
And peanut butter.  They tied three red roses with
raffia ribbon to the handle of the basket.  I hurried
to read the card, only to feel a twinge of
disappointment at the empty card.  The basket had come
from the Marketplace.

     I dug through my address book for Sam's phone
number.  I knew he would be at work this early and I
needed to know who was sending these gifts.   I waited
impatiently as the clerk transferred me to Sam.

     "Hello?"

     "Sam, this is Becca."

     "Becca, my dear.  How wonderful to hear from you. 
I was just thinking about you."

     "Listen, Sam, I have a favor to ask.  I just
received a lovely basket from your store and I was
wondering if you could tell me who sent it."

     "Ah, the new girl forgot to put the card on it?"

     "No.  They attached a card but it was blank.  Was
Grace working this morning?"

     "Grace did not work yesterday and she doesn't
start her shift until 4:00 in the afternoon today.  
Why don't you let me find out for you.  Can you hold on
for a moment?"

     "Of course."

     Who would want to continue to send me gifts? 
Dylan?  He didn't need to be spending what little money
he made on me.  I would have to tell him that gently,
but who else knew about the pistachios and peanut
butter?  Sam.  But he would have said something if he
were the mysterious admirer.

     "Becca?"

     "Yes."

     "Marianne said she doesn't know who ordered the
basket.  She can't remember whether it was a man or
woman because she took the order during the evening 
rush.  She says she is sorry."

     "That's okay Sam.  I'm sure I'll find out
eventually."  I hung up the receiver and continued to
think.   The baby was moving around more than usual
this morning.  My hand instinctively went to my hard,
round belly and felt the little hand or foot slide
across, tickling a smile from me.

***

     My schedule was light for that day.  It was just
as well because all I could picture in my mind was Greg
and Jennifer having sex on his dining room table.  The
look on his face when he saw me was permanently etched
into the back of my eyelids.  I was humiliated.

     I stripped off my clothes when I stepped into my
bedroom.  Maternity pantyhose were still uncomfortable,
despite how much give they give.  I was going to have
to start wearing pantsuits.  I just couldn't stand
another day wearing pantyhose.

     My back ached.  I lowered myself to sit on my bed,
rubbing at my lower back.  The baby felt like he was
sitting between my legs.  Nine more weeks to go.  I
wish it would pass by quickly.

     I startled when I heard the doorbell ring.  I
wasn't expecting company.  I never had company.  If it
were a salesman, I was prepared to bite his head off. 
I slipped on a robe, the front barely closing in front
of my burgeoning load and opened the door.  I stopped,
my mouth still open ready to speak.

     "I hope you haven't had dinner yet."  Greg said
with a sheepish smile behind several white bags marked
'Cramer's'.  

     "Um, no, I haven't."  I stepped out of the way and
let him enter the foyer.  He walked to the kitchen.  I
just lagged behind him like a confused puppy.  "I,
um...what are you doing here?" I asked when he turned
back to face me once he laid the bags down.

     "I'm taking you up on your invitation."  He looked
at me, a twinkle in his blue eyes.  He quickly looked
away and began unpacking the paper bags.  "I needed
some chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, gravy, green
beans and I knew you would let me share it with you."

     I didn't know what to say except.  "Oh."  

     I fell into a chair and watched his steady soft
hands working the bags and plastic encased utensils. 
"I have real forks and knives, you know."  

     He was ahead of me.  He grabbed two plates and
utensils and began filling them with sinful food.  As
usual, I was hungry.  

     After finishing the preparations, he walked to the
couch and extended his hand.  "Dinner is served,
madam."  

     I had to smile.  I also blushed a little.  The man
of my dreams, my gorgeous gynecologist was asking for
my company.  I realized, in horror, I was still wearing
my old bathrobe.  "Let me change first."  I said while
my hand remained enclosed in his.

     "That' s not necessary.  You look very comfortable
and cute just the way you are.  Besides, if I'm lucky,
your robe will fall open a little and I will get a
little more of you than planned."  

     I didn't know what to say.  Sure, I could have
blurted out right then and there, 'honey you have seen
more of me than anyone else has ever seen' or 'you have
odd taste mister, especially after your recent frolick
with Miss Breasts.'  I didn't.  I just let him guide me
to a chair and sat on it when he held it out for me.  I
was coherent enough to help him push the chair to the
table.  I didn't want him to strain himself.

     "Greg.  First I just have to say how utterly and
horribly embarrassed---"

     Greg looked up at me, this time he was blushing. 
"No.  It's not you who should be embarrassed.  It's me. 
I can't believe you had to see that.  I'm sorry, Becca. 
Jennifer can be . . .difficult sometimes.  Most of the
time actually."

     "Why do you stay with her?"

     Greg shook his head.  "I don't know, really.  She
is like . . . entertainment.  She doesn't care to have
conversations with me or know what's on my mind.  She's
shallow.  I think I must be sometimes, too."  

     "That doesn't make sense."

     "I'm attracted to her.  When we met I didn't have
the time or energy to put into a committed
relationship.  I just didn't want it.  It's easy to
date someone and have sex with them if you know that's
all it is.  Jennifer just doesn't want to lose her
status among her friends.  That's what is important to
her.  Not feelings.  The party favors."

     "Interesting.  And now you are beginning to wonder
why you are with someone so . . .plastic.   Hmmm.."

     "Now, therapist lady, don't go trying to analyze
my thoughts.  You have no idea where you might end up."

     "Oh, is that a challenge?  I can take any kind of
challenge you throw my way, Dr. Dixon."

     "You always did enjoy a little friendly
competition."

     "There's nothing friendly with what I have in
mind."

***

     Our dinner ended on a light note.  The scene of
last night faded from memory, at least as far as the
humiliation of it.   Our conversation continued for
another hour or so before I needed a bathroom break. 
Instead of walking down the long hallway into the
master bedroom with its private bath, I used the other
bathroom off the main hall.  

     During our dinner I had mentioned to Greg that I
had been receiving little gifts.  I didn't know what I
should do about them.  Should I be concerned?

     He looked at me while feeding me a bite of his
dessert.  "Don't be too concerned.  You shouldn't get
yourself worked up.  Still, you should feel safe in
your own home.  I'll tell you what, I'll stay the
night, on the couch, and you get a good night's sleep. 
Don't worry about anything.   You need the rest
anyway."

     I smiled.  How could I refuse?  My knight in
shining armor was offering his services as guardian of
my dreams.  I wasn't stupid.  Although, hormones were
talking loudly these days.

     I was restless that night.  How could I possibly
sleep when Greg was on my couch? Besides the baby was
pushing against something in my back and it hurt like
hell.  I limped into the kitchen.  The thought of Hagen
Daaz ice cream sounded good, even at 1:00 a.m..  

     He took my breath away.  He really did.  Greg lay
tangled up in a blanket sleeping soundly.  One tanned
and nicely shaped leg was visible above the blanket. 
His naked chest rose and fell in a relaxed rhythm as I
watched.  

     "Couldn't sleep?"  Greg asked.

     I startled.  How long had he been awake and known
I was staring at him like a hungry cat stalking a
mouse?  "Um, no, I couldn't sleep.  I think the sound
of the ice cream in the freezer calling me woke me up." 


     Greg chuckled and sat up.  His hair was mussed a
little, giving him an endearing quality.  I wanted to
run my fingers through the fine hairs and smooth them
back down on his head.  I wouldn't dare.  I tore my
gaze from his beauty and walked to the refrigerator. 
Greg noticed my slight limp.

     "Is your back hurting?"

     "A little.  It hurts when I put my weight on my
right leg.  It eventually goes away."  I waved it off
nonchalantly, not wanting him to feel the need to
comfort me.

     "Becca?"

     He said my name so quietly, almost as if he were
tentative about saying it.  Almost as if the next thing
out of his mouth would frighten him.  I turned to look
at him, eyebrows raised in a silent gesture of
attention.  Speaking with my mouth full was impolite
and the ice cream was still too cold to swallow.  

     "Whatever happened all those years ago?"

     I swallowed, placing the carton back in the
freezer.  "What do you mean?  Are you talking about
high school?"

     "I called your house so many times wanting to talk
to you and your mother said you didn't want to speak
with me.  I could never talk to you about what was on
my mind when we were face to face.  I was too insecure
back then.  I never had the chance to tell you all the
things that were going on in my head."

     "Greg, I don't know what you are talking about. 
You never called my house.  We saw each other every
day.  You told me all about the sports, the
cheerleaders, the schools you wanted to go to after
graduation.  We were buddies."

     "I called your house fourteen times before I
finally gave up."

     I swallowed back the rage and returning feelings
of hurt at the way my parents treated me. "I never
knew.  My parents were screwed-up, Greg.  My mother was
very controlling and manipulative.  She dwelled on
misery and heartache.  If everyone else around her
wasn't miserable, she wasn't satisfied.  It wouldn't
surprise me to hear she lied to you."  

     "I always admired you, Becca."

     I was dumbstruck. Was this Greg, my endearing high
school crush?   "I'm shocked. Really.  I never would
have imagined--"

     "I thought you were sick of me.  We saw each other
so much when your mother told me you didn't want to
speak to me I took that as a hint that I was boring
you."  

     "Don't be silly.  You could never bore me."  I
turned to put the spoon in the sink.  

     "I always wondered how things would have turned
out if we had gotten together back then."  Greg stepped
up behind me.   His hands started stroking up and down
my back.

     "Me?  And you?  Somehow I don't think I'm your
type.  You've always liked the slinky blondes and I'm a
clumsy brunette."  I attempted a lighthearted laugh. 
Instead it came out as a nervous squeak.

     "You're a beautiful woman.  Someone I can have a
real conversation with.  Someone I can have a lively
discussion with, and not over what restaurant to be
seen at.  I can count on you for a witty response to
lighten my day.  You have the most delightful ass I
have ever seen."  He slid his hands a little lower to
my nonexistent waist.  The way his hands slowly skimmed
the sides of my rounded belly made the breath catch in
my throat.  He began kneading the knotted muscles
in my lower back.    

     His touch was creating a myriad of feelings within
me.  Need, want, relaxation, all of these combined were
becoming uncontrollable.  I rolled my head back and
closed my eyes, living for this feeling he was
spawning.  My head was back, lolling from side to side
as he pressed into my flesh.  The tips of my dark wavy
hair brushed against his hands, those wonderful,
passionate, talented hands.  I felt him step closer. 
The heat from his body was intense, so much for me to
take, especially in my state of arousal.  He was virile
and strong, yet gentle and loving.  I wanted this man. 
Then I felt his warm breath on my neck.  I know the
soft moan that came from my parted lips encouraged him. 
His kisses on my neck became slow and sweeping.  He
brushed those soft lips of his up and down the arched
column of my neck.  His hands never stopped their slow
study of my back.

     "Becca." He whispered hoarsely, huskily in my ear. 
I felt my name coming from his lips and it thrilled me. 


     I turned to face him.  His hands never lost
contact with my body.  I met his sky-blue gaze,
now heavy lidded and speaking of passion and knew that
I was going to do something I've always wanted to do.  

     My hands nearly had a will of their own.  I felt
every molecule that made up this generous human being. 
My fingertips glided over the rugged planes of his
face.  I traced his lips with my index finger, the fire
in my belly crescendoing when his tongue laved my
finger with attention.  I leaned into him, standing on
tiptoe and touched my lips to his.  

     Our kiss was so soft at first.  Gentle, like a
question or the way a person may creep up slowly on a
delicate subject.  The touch of his mouth on mine was
breathtaking.  I wanted to fall into him, never leave. 
He never wavered in answering my touch with his own. 
The kiss grew from soft questions answered to more
frenetic searching for deeper meaning in this step we
had taken.  I dug my fingers into his hair, like I've
always wanted to, and pulled him deeper into my
mouth.  His tongue thrust through my parted lips and I
suckled it before my own tongue danced frantically with
his.  

     I allowed my right hand to travel down his face
and neck.  I paused for a moment in my touching as I
felt the pulse in the vein in his throat.  Faster it
was pumping, as fast as mine.  Silky, smooth skin
greeted my palm yet the hardness of his chest flexed
beneath me.  

     I untied the sash to my red robe letting it fall
open.  My belly, now a little more than seven months
full with my child, brushed against his firm, flat
torso.  The child within me curled around,
acknowledging this touch of inflamed flesh, as if to
agree the feelings provoked were stirring more than
passion.  The woman in me was throbbing and pulsating. 
My sex was always engorged these days, but now it
throbbed achingly.  I felt the wetness between my legs
and knew it would only be a matter of time before Greg
would notice the nectar dripping from me.  

     I could feel his erection through his shorts.  My
hands wasted no time in releasing him so that I could
finally have it for my own.  At least for the moment. 
My urge and desire to fuck this man was more than I
could handle.  I was a somewhat passionate woman but
now I fear I would have forced him to have sex with me
if he had tried to pull away.  He never pulled away,
not in revulsion, his eyes told me so.  

     I stood before him, not a woman with a misshapen
body, but a woman who was full and desirable.  My eyes
fell to his enormous erection.  I bead of moisture
sparkled from his glans.  I reached down and touched
the drop of precum, bringing it to my lips to taste. 
Salty and slippery...a craving.  

     Greg stepped nearer, lowering his lips to my full
breasts.  The flick of his tongue on my dark nipples
pulled a groan from deep within me.  How long had it
been since I had been touched like that?  His mouth
covered my soft nipple.  He kneaded my sensitive flesh
with his lips, sucking, pulling and flicking his tongue
over the now hard points.  My other nipple was being
taken care of by his thumb.  I felt like falling to my
knees.  

     I took his hand and led him to my bedroom.

***

     I awoke the next morning after a satisfying night,
sexually and restfully.  I was nestled in Greg's arms,
my naked back pulled against his chest.  His fingers
were gently stroking the hardened curve of my belly.  

     I noticed a slight soreness between my legs,
nothing to be alarmed about.  If anything I wanted to
touch the punished flesh between my legs and feel the
jump in sensation such action caused.  I didn't have
to, Greg's fingers found my fragrant slit before I
could.  

     "Doctor, I have this driving need to be screwed. 
Do you think you could prescribe something for me?"  I
rolled onto my back and smiled up at him coquetishly.  

     "I have just what you need, my dear.  Spread your
legs and let me have a look."  

     I giggled like a schoolgirl.  I enjoyed these
naughty little games and looked forward to more.  Like
a good girl I opened my legs and enjoyed the look on
his face as he studied my swollen sex.  His fingers
stroked my protruding clit languidly as his tongue
passed over his lips. His head dipped between my legs
and suckled my clit.  The immediate surge in sensation
in my pussy was mind-blowing.  I cried out, very animal
like, demanding to be fucked.  "Now.  Greg. Fuck me
now."  I arched my back as much as a woman in my
condition could and spread my legs farther to allow for
his hips to fit between my thighs.  He sank his massive
erection deep into me and held still while I squirmed
on his rod.  

     "Do you want me to fuck you, Becca?"

     "Yes."  I breathed.

     "Like this?"

     He pulled out slowly, leaving the ridge of his
glans just within the folds of my sensitive labia.  He
slid his wet cock head up and down my enflamed clitoris
a few times before plunging deeper still inside me.  My
vagina reflexively spasmed.  I screamed again.  He
continued his methodical fuck as we talked so dirty so
early in the morning.  I saw stars when the orgasm
finally hit, allowing the waves of intense electricity
to sweep me away.  I don't even remember what I was
crying out during that time.

     When the ebb and flow of the most incredible sex I
have ever had in my life eased, I smiled at his sweat
soaked face.  He gently kissed the apex of my shrouded
babe.  

     Kathy smiled up at me from behind her desk.  "Wow. 
You look nice today Becca.  Finally get a good night's
sleep?"  Kathy asked.  I detected a twinkle in her eye. 
Maybe it was because of the smile I couldn't possibly
wipe from my face.   

     "Yes, I had a good night.  Very good, actually. 
Any messages?"  I asked my secretary before continuing
into my office.  

     "Just one.  He asked if you were in but wouldn't
leave a name.  He said he would call back."

     I thought about that for a second.  Probably some
salesperson.  They never want to leave their names,
knowing I wasn't likely to return their call.  

     That morning went by quickly.  I couldn't stop
thinking about the night spent with Greg. Even while
scanning the most interesting of case studies, my mind
would wander to what Greg was doing.  Of course, I knew
what he was doing.  He was an ob/gyn.  A doctor.  The
thought of his profession and the resulting situations
he was in didn't even occur to me.  Kathy interrupted
my thoughts with a phone call transferred into my
office.

     "Becca Rogers."  I said matter-of-factly.

***

     I left early that day, a doctor's appointment I
lied to Kathy.  She didn't seem to mind or take notice. 
I was well into my pregnancy and my doctor visits had
become more frequent.  

     My heart pounded in my chest when I came upon my
car.  A white rose was clasped to the windshield.  Fear
and apprehension swept over me.

     Michael wanted to meet with me.  He had something
to discuss with me,  he said over the phone that
afternoon.  I was sick with dread and worry.  I didn't
want this man in my life.  What if he changed his mind
about ending his rights to his child?  He was legally
entitled to his child and in truth I would never keep
him from his baby.  I just didn't want him to
complicate my life.  

     Michael and I agreed to meet at the Museum of Fine
Arts the next day.  I arrived a little early to find a
peaceful place to collect my thoughts and ready myself
for the upcoming confrontation.  Nervously I studied a
few of the abstract paintings around me, deciding the
bright colors and frenzied patterns were not helping my
mood.  I went in search of some soft and gentle
paintings and found myself pondering the beautiful
works of Margaret Mee.  It wasn't long before
I lost myself in the detailed description of her
sketches of wild orchids of the Amazon.  How like
female anatomy was the exposed beauty of an orchid.
Margaret Mee, a woman of substance and strength, a
woman who reached beyond the boundaries set for her
class during that time and surpassed all expectations. 
Look at the legacy she left behind.  Could I ever hope
to mean that much?

     "There you are Becca.  I've been looking all over
for you."  Michael said from behind me.

     It had been six months since I spoke with Michael
last.  Our conversation then was highly emotional and
dramatic.  We parted on bad terms.  With a deep,
calming breath I turned slowly and faced him. 
Immediately his eyes fell to my round belly.  He didn't
smile or even blink, he looked back up at me and smiled
nervously.

     "Well, Michael, how have you been these last six
months?"  I tried to keep my voice firm and even but I
feared a hint of sarcasm crept in.

     "Busy as always with work.  Just tied up some
loose ends with a major conglomerate of plastic
surgeons.  Turned a nice profit.  Managed to take a
little vacation in Rio.  I see you've been busy." 
Michael's mouth pulled back into a tight-lipped and
strained smile.

     "Let's get on with it.  What did you wish to
discuss?  Didn't my attorney forward the papers to
you?"  I held my breath.  I hated the way he treated me
with indifference yet I didn't want him to care about
me anymore either.  I wanted Greg.  

     "That's what I wanted to talk to you about.  I
needed to make some things clear.  Why don't we sit
down?"

     "No.  Just spit it out.  What do you want from
me?"

     "Becca, you know how much I cared about you, about
us?  I wanted us to be together. I'm sorry you
misunderstood about . . . things.  I never wanted a
family, never wanted children.  Maybe that makes me a
monster, but it's how I feel."

     "Michael, you have some choices you know.  And,
no, not wanting children does not make you a monster. 
Nevertheless, if you feel that way, why didn't you ever
have a vasectomy?"

     "Never got around to it."

     I put my hand protectively over my moving child,
to steady myself more than anything. "So what now?"

     "I wanted to give you the papers.  I signed them. 
Everything is finished and taken care of. That baby is
yours, all yours.  You won't have to worry about me
coming around trying to find a place in your lives.  I
just. . . I hope we can forget this and move on. 
Separately, I mean.  It's not likely we'll ever run
into each other again.  I'll be moving to New York in
January.  They asked me to serve on the Board.  I'm
looking forward to the challenge."

     I stared at him.  I wanted to cry and slap him.  I
wanted to scream.  I wanted to laugh.  He was telling
me he didn't care about me or the child we created
together, he just wanted the rewards of working eighty
hours a week and the toys his money could buy with that
money.  I should be happy.  It wasn't up to me to
choose everyone's path in life, whether children should
be a part of it or not.  It bothered me that he could
be so insensitive and cold.  I didn't see it in him
when we were together.  Was I blind?

     I took the papers from him.  "Very well, Michael. 
I appreciate your honesty in this . . .situation.  I
feel certain you will uphold your end of the bargain
and stay out of our lives forever. That's the way it
should be, I guess.  In any case, I have a patient to
see in a half hour and I don't want to be late.  Good
luck, Michael."  I hurried past him and through the
archway and left the building.  Quickly, before he
noticed the tears.
      
***

     I listened to the phone message again.  

     "Becca.  I've been trying to reach you.  I need to
see you.  I want to see you.  You mean so much to me
and . . . I . . . want to see you.  Well.  You're
probably busy so I'll leave you alone.  If anything,
I'll see you next week for your appointment.  Bye."

     I had not been answering my phone or returning
Greg's calls for the last week.  Since meeting with
Michael I felt terribly unsure of myself.  My choice in
men, at least in Michael, was very bad.  What if I were
setting myself up for another fall?  How could I go
through the pain again?  Now I had a baby to think
about.  How could I allow a child to get attached to a
man and then have that man disappear?  

     My heart was breaking.  

***

     I ran into Dylan in the grocery store the next
day.  Once again he seemed upbeat and cheerful.  He was
even sporting a security badge on his denim shirt above
his name badge.

     "What's this?  A promotion?"  I asked, a smile
breaking through my defenses.

     "Yeah.  Hey, I took the course management offered,
you know, learning all about security and shoplifting
and all that.  They even knew about my record and still
let me take the course.  I did really good and now I
work security every night.  For the most part I sit
around upstairs and watch all the monitors.  If I
notice something suspicious, either I or one of the
employees will check it out.  It's so cool."

     "Dylan, I'm so glad to hear that.  You don't know
how happy that makes me, especially to see you."  I
gave him a squeeze on the arm. 

***
     That evening another gift was waiting for me on my
doorstep.  Another white rose.  This time it had a box
of chocolate-covered cherries with it.

     Chocolate-covered cherries.

     Greg.  Not Dylan.  Not some mysterious stalker. 
Greg had been leaving the gifts for me. I walked to his
door and rang the bell.  He didn't answer.  No lights
were on in his house.  I assumed he wasn't home.  I
turned and went back to my own house.

     Sometime during the night my back began to ache. 
Just a dull ache occasionally.  I leaned against a
heating pad for a while to ease the pain.  The muscles
around my belly would tighten and clamp down
occasionally, turning my abdominal muscles into a rock. 
More like a boulder.  I was two weeks away from my due
date.

     I was ready for the birth.  As ready as I was
going to be anyway.  The people in my office had thrown
a nice baby shower for me.  I think I had the basics
covered.  I bought a gorgeous ivory wrought iron cradle
to keep next to my bed.  It rocked so gently.  A gauzy
net of snowy white draped over the beautiful piece of
furniture for my baby.  I couldn't wait to lay him, or
her, inside it.

***

     I slept late the next morning.  My back pain had
subsided.  I was able to make it to work in time to see
my first patient.  It was during this session I knew
something was wrong.  Or different.  

     "Ms. Rogers?  Are you all right?"  Mrs. Moreno
asked me, a look of concern in her tired eyes.  

     "I'm not sure."  My belly had hardened to a
terrific ball of stone.  It stayed that way for a
minute and then relaxed.  I checked my watch.  Just to
be safe, I wrote down the time on my note pad.  "It's
nothing.  Please continue Mrs. Moreno.  You were
telling me the results of your lates---OH!"  My hand
flew to my belly as a deep cramp ripped through my
body.  "That hurt."  

     "I'm getting your secretary.  She needs to get you
to the doctor.  Babies don't usually wait too long.  At
least they never did for me.  Did I ever tell you that
my Jose was born just thirty minutes after my labor
pains started?  Of course, that was nothing compared
to---"

     "Damn!  You're right Mrs. Moreno.  Don't worry, I
won't charge you for your session today and I'll have
Kathy schedule you in with another counselor.  I have a
feeling maternity leave just started."

     I waddled to the door, jerking it open with a loud
"Kathy!"

     Kathy's eyes widened as she looked at me.  "Oh
God.  It's time, isn't it?  Okay, here we go."  

***

     "You didn't take Lamaze?"  The nurse asked me
incredulously.

     "I know there must be something behind the counter
there you can give me for the pain. I've heard about
things y'all can do.  Please?"  I squirmed around in my
bed.  The linens were fresh six hours ago.  Now they
were spotted and wet from the recent flood of amniotic
fluid.  The heart monitor revealed a healthy heartbeat. 
The velcro was itching like crazy.

     "Can you take this off?  Or at least make it more
comfortable?  I can't stand it--Ow ow ow ow . . ."  I
crunched up my face as another contraction ripped
through me.

     "Okay, Ms. Rogers . . . breathe 2, 3, 4 . . .
breathe."  The nurse calmly rubbed my arm as
if to pass the crash course in Lamaze to me by osmosis. 
I wasn't listening.  I was way past listening.  

     "Fuck Lamaze and give me the drugs.  Get my
fuckin' doctor in here.  Now."  

     The nurse smiled patiently.  Apparently she
experienced many irrational screaming women every day. 
"Dr. Dixon is on his way.  He got a little tied up at
the office but Nancy said he left ten minutes ago.  We
can take care of you until then.  Now, lie back and
breeeeaaathe."

     I pushed sweat-soaked wavy hair off my forehead
and the nape of my neck.  The nurse thought my labor
began sometimes during the night since I had progressed
farther than she thought upon admission.  I was fully
effaced and dilated to 6 centimeters.  

     "The first ones always take the longest.  We can't
give you the epidural until the doctor arrives.  Should
be any minute now.  After his examination we'll get the
anesthesiologist up here right away."

     I was delirious.  Pain can do that to a person. 
This was a pain I had never felt before.  I couldn't
tear my eyes away from the heart monitor and the paper
graph it was spitting out.  Every time the red flashing
numbers started going up I would involuntarily brace
myself for the forthcoming contraction.  This
ultimately worked against me.  I was completely tired
out and napping briefly between contractions.  I
thought I was in hell.

     During this time Greg showed up offering a cool
hand to stroke my face, a washcloth to wipe away the
sweat and words of encouragement.  Through my haze I
felt such love for him.  I wasn't able to show it
properly, though.

     "Where the hell is that anesthes--anesth--the
fucking drug guy!  Where is he!"

     "He's right behind you, Becca.  Now, lean over,
round your back and take a deep breath." Greg said.

     "Wait, doctor, another contraction is coming."

     I waited out the contraction, nearly ripping a
hole in the mattress with my already ruined manicure. 
It was too much.  "I don't want to do this anymore.  I
just can't.  I have nothing left in me to give.  Just
make it all stop."  I sobbed pitifully.  In the back of
my mind I knew it was a ridiculous thing to say but it
just poured out.

     "Becca.  It's almost over.  Just hang in there a
few minutes longer."

     I don't recall the feeling of the epidural.  But
within minutes blessed relief came from the mindbending
pain.   I was finally able to gather some strength.

     "Greg."

     "Hmmm?  It won't be long now.  You're fully
dilated.  Let's get your legs up and open."  

     I giggled.  "Whatever you say Greggy."

     He looked at me sternly over the hospital gown
tenting between my legs.  He finally smiled.

     "You were the one all this time with the flowers
and things."

     "I'm trying to make up for lost time.  There are
so many gifts I've been wanting to give you since I met
you all those years ago.  You'll just have to accept
them, that's all."  He smiled at me before looking back
down.

     "I feel like pushing." 

     "Not yet.  Wait just a second."

     "I was a little scared, you know.  White roses
mean death."

     "What?  They do not."

     "Yes, they do."

     "White lilies mean death.  White roses mean
purity."

     "I'm not pure."

     "Thank goodness.  Okay, now let's push to the
count of ten.  Ready?"

     He began to count to ten, the nurse chimed in
while pushing down on the top of my belly. I didn't
feel much at that point except the pressure of bearing
down.  

     "Good.  Now rest a minute."

     "I want to push again."

     "Okay.  One, two . . . Here we go, the baby's
head.  Look at all that dark hair!"

     I know I whined.  I didn't mean for it to sound
like a whine.  I was eager to see the head but wasn't
exactly in the position to do so.  

     "Push, push . . . Oh Becca, he's beautiful!  A
beautiful boy!"  Greg held up my purple slimy wad of a
boy.  He was the most beautiful thing in the whole
world.  His little face was screwed up into a whimper. 
We both began to cry at the same time.  It was hard to
say who was louder, but I think Benjamin won out.

***

     I awoke after several hours to find my room
completely filled with roses.  Roses of all kinds, all
colors.  Red, peach, white, pink, gold, yellow, bowls
of antique blooms floating in water, a bunch of
luxurious damask roses tied with satin ribbon by my
bedside.  It was nearly ridiculous if it weren't so
glorious.  Greg entered carrying my son, ready for a
feeding.  

     "Will you be nursing, Becca?"  

     "I would like to try.  But . . . " I blushed in
embarrassment.  "I don't know the first thing to do."

     "Let me help you."  Greg sat gingerly at my side
and loosened the ties to my gown.  One full breast,
fully engorged and swollen with the first sign of milk
was exposed immediately.  The nipple hardened
momentarily with the touch of cold air.  Greg placed
Benjamin in my arms and put his tiny lips to my nipple. 
Benjamin whimpered a few times before firmly latching
onto my breast.  I was awestruck at the joy in my
heart. 

     "Did you send all these flowers, Greg?"

     "I told you I want to make up for lost time.  You
deserve so much more than roses.  I wish I could offer
you more."

     "Silly man.  You've given me more than you know."

     He leaned forward and kissed my forehead.  This
moment was worth storing away forever.  

     "Becca.  I don't know how to say this, or even if
you will believe me, but. . . I want to be with you
always.  Since I saw you the first time in the office,
all those feelings came back and then some.  I can't
stop thinking about you.  I know that I love you and
want you to love me.  If you'll have me, I would like
to be your husband."

     With a tiny smack of a seal being broken, Benjamin
began to cry.  I guided him to the nipple again until
he quieted and continued with his meal.  My shock and
startled reaction apparently dislodged him from my
breast.

     "Are you asking me to marry you?"

     "Yes."

     "Yes."

     "Yes?"

     "Yes!"

***

     Benjamin slept soundly through the night at eight
weeks.   I tucked him into his crib and slipped from
the room.  My breasts were full and luscious from
breastfeeding.  The combination of nursing and daily
walks had trimmed my body down somewhat.  I enjoyed the
extra curves my body had now.  I felt voluptuous.

     I entered our bedroom and lit a candle.

     Greg stepped from the shower and looked at me. 
"Damn.  I still can't believe how lucky I am every time
I lay eyes on you."

     "Flattery will get you absolutely everything you
want.  From me, anyway."  I slipped the black silk robe
from my shoulders and showed him my new lingerie.  A
brief red lacy bra hugged my full breasts, pushing them
up to the point of spillage.  The red panties slid
softly over my womanly hips.  I gently pushed him down
on the bed and straddled him.

     Chestnut waves caressed his chest as I teased the
tips of my hair back and forth over his torso.  I
inched lower until my hair tickled his hips, thighs,
purposely avoiding touching his penis.  

     Greg groaned.  "I'm so glad your doctor released
you to have sex again."

     "I'm so glad I'm able to release my doctor's sex." 

     I slipped my red panties off and dragged them
across his face.  He bit the lace and pulled on them
with his teeth.  "Damn, they're empty."

     "These aren't" I pulled the front of my red lace
bra down.  My breasts spilled out of my bra.  My
nipples were still soft and large.  A slight sweet
scent of milk drifted from them.  I offered him a
closer look at my new breasts.  

     "You know, we will need to toughen those nipples
up a little.  They can get pretty painful with all that
breastfeeding."

     I felt the familiar tingle of the milk flowing
down into my breasts.  A whitish sheen of milk began to
form on one nipple.  Greg licked my nipple very slowly,
licking up the tiny amount of milk.   He took the
nipple farther into his mouth and sucked gently.  I
felt the delicious spurt of wetness between my legs and
prepared to impale myself on my husband's waiting
erection.  He didn't stop me, instead he guided my hips
with his expert hands to the tip of his penis.  I slid
down slowly as he sucked harder on my nipple.

     "Mmmmm...sweet."  He ran his thumbs along my wet
nipples, teasing more milk from the erect points.  As
our lovemaking became faster and more frantic my milk
began to spurt onto his chest and face.  It was almost
enough to make me laugh.  Here I was ejaculating a
white liquid onto my husband.  He loved it.

     "Oh Greg.  I'm going to cum."  I said as the first
tremor began to build inside me.

     "Contrary to what you might think, breastfeeding
is not a reliable form of birth control."  Greg grunted
this bit of medical knowledge just as he ejaculated a
load of cum deep inside my womb.  

     "Uh oh."  We both laughed, bathed in sweat, sex,
milk and love.