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Subject: {ASSM} (GALAGO) For The Love Of Becca (Virago Blue)(MF, preg)
Date: Wed, 10 Nov 1999 12:10:00 -0500
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Virago Blue
http://members.aol.com/mdmvirago/mdmvirago001.htm
<1st attachment, "FortheloveofBecca.txt" begin>
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outdated magazines littered the tables.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.
**** - END PART ONE
PART TWO
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? *** -
END PART TWO
PART THREE
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.
*** - END PART THREE
PART FOUR
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.
*** - END PART FOUR
PART FIVE
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.
*** - END PART FIVE
PART SIX
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.
*** - END PART SIX
PART SEVEN
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.
*** - END PART SIX
PART SEVEN
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.
*** - END PART SEVEN
PART EIGHT
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 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.
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