Message-ID: <20939asstr$942253800@assm.asstr-mirror.org> From: MdmVirago@aol.com X-Original-Message-ID: <0.e6541dd0.2555ae43@aol.com> X-Post-Date: Sat, 6 Nov 1999 11:16:03 EST Subject: {ASSM} (GALAGO) For The Love Of Becca (Virago Blue)(MF, preg) Date: Wed, 10 Nov 1999 12:10:00 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: assm-admin 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 The same outdated magazines littered the tables.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. <1st attachment end> Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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