by Hope Ford
I lift myself then. His hands go to my hips and he holds on to me tightly, almost like he’s afraid I’m going to pull away.
I relish in his touch and then drop back down until our hips connect and his big, hard cock fills me again.
With every thrust of my hips, he meets me and seems to only be content when he’s buried deep inside me. The feeling that erupts inside me has a tear rolling down my cheek. I haven’t felt a connection like this in, well, I don’t even remember.
He leans up then, gripping my face in his hand and using his thumb to wipe the tear from my cheek. His hand slides between us and his finger flicks across the bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs. I toss my head back, ecstasy igniting inside me. But he doesn’t let me stay that way. No, he pulls my head forward, forcing me to look in his eyes.
He meets me thrust for thrust and I thrash over him as his hand works between my legs and he looks deep into my eyes.
My body reacts in such a primal way that my toes curl and I scream and grunt his name as my pussy tightens around him. He’s matching me, thrust for thrust, until we both come and the room is filled with our grunts.
4
Terry
Limp, she falls down around me. We’re both breathing heavily and I can tell the minute she realizes what just happened. Her body stiffens against mine. I run my hands up and down her back, hoping to soothe her, hoping to make her see how I feel about her.
All this time, she was Allen’s wife. I respected that, even though I didn’t respect him. And maybe this is fucked up and wrong, but damn, now that I’ve had her, there’s no turning back. At least not for me anyway.
I keep running my hands up and down her back, squeezing her, kissing the top of her head. But the more I push, the more she stiffens. She doesn’t give me any warning; she doesn’t say anything. She just pushes off of me and starts pulling on her clothes. Her movements are jerky and I can tell she’s upset.
“April. I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head and sniffs. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I pretty much threw myself at you. I should be the one…”
I stand up and walk toward her. “No… we don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
But she doesn’t let me continue. She holds her hands up and stops me before I can touch her, before I can wrap my arms around her.
She pulls her shirt down and covers her beautiful body from me. “You need to go, Terry.”
My mouth falls open. “But let’s talk about this…”
Her eyes widen and she creases her forehead. “No… let’s not ever talk about this. It never happened.” She walks to the door and holds it open. “Please, I’m sorry, but I need you to leave.”
I pull on my shoes and walk to the door. I no sooner get through it and turn around to try one more time and she’s shutting the door in my face.
I stand here for the longest time. I don’t know what to do. My first instinct is to barge back into her house and force her to talk to me—hell, if she’d just let me hold her that would be enough.
I put my hands on the sides of the door and lean against it. I take a deep breath and all the images of her bouncing up and down on my lap only minutes ago are flitting through my mind. I push my hand through my hair and mutter, “Fuck” before turning around and walking back to my truck. I’ll give her a day. Maybe two. But this isn’t over. Fuck no, it’s just getting started.
April
I throw myself across the bed. I don’t know what I was thinking. There are so many things I could blame it on… hormones, stress, a number of things. But it would all be a lie. I wanted Terry. I wanted him like I’ve never wanted a man before. He’s always been good to me, but tonight, it was different. He was different. Hell, I was different.
I take complete blame. I should have let him walk away when he offered to. If I was a stronger woman, that’s exactly what I would have done. But I’m not. No, lying in his arms, the feel of his strong hard body against mine, well, I knew that I couldn’t turn him away.
I roll onto my back and throw my hand across my forehead. He probably thinks I’m insane. I acted like a complete lunatic, kicking him out of the house. Hell, I barely let the man get his pants pulled up. I can imagine what he thinks of me. He probably thinks that I’m some kind of slut, having sex only a few weeks after my husband died.
I stretch, feeling muscles in my body that I didn’t even realize I had. I’m going to wait a few days. Maybe we can act like it never happened.
I laugh out loud and it’s then that I begin to really question my sanity. I’m crazy anymore. I laugh because I know that I won’t be forgetting it, ever. I think the feeling of being in his arms is something I will always carry with me.
5
Terry
Three Days Later
I waited as long as I could. I worked twelve-hour shifts the last three days and I have the next two days off. All I’ve done is think of her. That’s it. I picked up my phone so many times to just call her and check on her, but I always stopped myself.
But when I got off work tonight, I couldn’t put it off anymore; I drove straight to her house.
I walk up the porch and push the doorbell, cross my arms across my chest and stand back.
The door slowly opens, and April peeks her head outside the crack. Her nose is red, her skin blotchy, and her eyes swollen.
I don’t even ask. I push on the door, forcing her back, and then shut it behind me.
The look on her face can only be described as shock. “What is it? Tell me what’s wrong?”
Instantly I think that she’s still upset from the other night, but my gut tells me that there’s something more.
Her eyes are wide, and she opens and closes her mouth quickly, but she’s not budging.
I take a step toward her and wrap my hands around her arms, holding her up and forcing her to look at me. “Tell me, April.”
She takes a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
Shock hits me and I about fall backwards. Before I can say anything, she interrupts my train of thought. “Around three months pregnant… it’s Allen’s.” She’s crying now, and I don’t know what to do. She’s so upset, I don’t know what the right thing to do is. I go with my gut and hold my arms open and she steps into them.
I hoist her up in my arms and carry her into the living room, sitting in the big chair and holding her in my lap.
My mind is going a mile a minute, but almost instantly, I know what I need to do. Fuck, what I want to do.
She’s sobbing in my arms and I stroke her hair, waiting, begging her to calm down before she makes herself even more sick.
She curls into me and presses her nose into my neck. Even now, with her eyes swollen, her hair a matted mess and snot running down her nose, she’s still beautiful. She’s one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen. It’s then I know that what I want to do is the right thing. Hell, it’s the only thing.
When her sobbing slows, I keep rubbing her back. She tries to pull from my arms, but I only let her go so far. She doesn’t fight me; she just lifts her big blue eyes to mine. “What am I gonna do?”
I take a deep breath and hold on to her because I know her first instinct is going to be to run. “You’re going to marry me, April.”
Her deep intake of breath fills the room. “Marry you?”
I nod my head, still holding on to her. “Yes, we’re getting married.”
She shakes her head. “Maybe I didn’t explain this right. The baby is Allen’s.”
I just nod my head and try to hide my smirk. I am, after all, a fireman. I do know some health stuff and I know she wouldn’t find out she’s pregnant after only sleeping with me three days ago. “I know that, April. I know he will be the biological father.”
She jerks again and when I try to stop her, she asks me, “Please, let me up.”
I look into her eyes. “The last time I let you up, you kicked me out. I’m not leaving here like last time. I won’t be leavi
ng here until you agree to marry me.”
I release her then and her eyes widen as she steps away from me.
She starts to stutter, takes a deep breath, and then very slowly says, “This isn’t the 1950s, Terry. A woman doesn’t get married because she’s pregnant.”
“I know that,” I start, but she holds her hand up for me to stop.
“That’s crazy for you to even think we should get married. We’re not together, we’re not dating. What is it? Do you have some weird loyalty to Allen that you feel you need to do this? Because I promise you, you don’t.”
My mind is working overtime. I’m barely listening to her because I’m thinking of ways I can convince her to marry me.
“Can we sit down?” I point to the couch, trying to buy some time.
She looks between the couch and me and finally nods her head.
I follow her and sit down and can’t help but notice that she sits on the other end of the couch, as far from me as possible.
I open my hands, palms up. “We would be helping each other out.”
She scoffs. “How can marrying me help you?”
With my most sincere look, I tell her, “I want to settle down. I’ve wanted to for some time now. You’re beautiful. We know each other, I know you’re a good woman and will make a good mother. We proved the other day that we’re compatible. Fuck, we’re on fire.”
She’s shaking her head. “No, what will people think? I can’t…”
“Fuck ‘em.” I slap my hand against my leg. “If they have a problem with us getting married, they’re not our friends anyway. C’mon, April. You can finish school. You have one semester left. I know you hated moving back in here with your mom, and I have a big house with plenty of room.”
Her hands twist together in front of her. “Those are not any reasons to get married, Terry.”
“They’re perfect reasons, and you know it. The rest will come to us,” I tell her, but only because I know she’s not ready to hear the truth. She’s all I’ve thought about and to think that she could be mine has my heart beating doubletime.
She’s breaking. I know she is, but then she starts to shake her head. “No. No. I can’t marry you. I’m sorry.”
I walk over to her and grab her hand, lacing our fingers together. I’m looking into her eyes and it takes everything I have not to take her into my arms. “Tell me one good reason.”
She tilts her head to the side. I can see the hope flare in her eyes. I know she wants to say yes. Maybe not because she loves me, but I’ll take her any way I can get her. “Uh, because you don’t love me. Because this isn’t your baby. Because I’m not your responsibility. Because, we can’t, I can’t, uh, have sex with you.”
I stare at her and it doesn’t go unnoticed by me that she didn’t say, “Because I don’t love you.” That alone gives me hope.
I tip her chin up and hold her so she has to look at me. “It’s quick, I know, but I can see myself loving you. And it doesn’t matter who the biological father is, I will be this baby’s father.” I cup her belly and her stomach tightens under my hand. “I’m not trying to be responsible for you. We’ll be there for each other. I need you just as much as you need me. And fine, even though we know we’re good together, I’ll give you time. You don’t want to have sex? I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
6
April
Two weeks later
I still can’t believe I did it. It took some convincing, but Terry finally did it. And he meant what he said; he didn’t leave until I agreed to marry him. He spent the night that night. Him on the couch and me in my bedroom. I tossed and turned the whole night, thinking of all the reasons I should say no. But, God in the dark of the night, alone in my room and honesty beating on my chest, all I wanted to do was say yes.
My mom came home from work the next morning and I walked into the kitchen to Terry making breakfast and he and my mother planning the wedding. I thought for sure she would tell me what a bad idea this was, but when I asked her about it, all she would say is that “Terry’s pretty convincing.”
I had to agree there. We married one week later with my mom, Mack and Jane as witnesses. Terry kept pushing for a bigger wedding, but I didn’t want that. I still wasn’t comfortable and knew people would be talking, but if they did, Terry made sure I didn’t hear any of it.
He had me moved in and tonight is my first night in his house. I still can’t get over the memory of his lips on mine after we said “I do” earlier today. Hell, my body is a hormone playground and I’m all over the place.
Terry comes walking in. “I think that’s the last of it.”
He’s carrying a bag of my clothes in. He had already moved all the big stuff in earlier this week, so today it was just clothes.
He starts walking into his bedroom with my bag, but I stop him and stand by the guest bedroom door. “I thought I was staying here,” I say, pointing to the open door.
But he doesn’t stop. He keeps walking and puts the suitcase down on his bed before unzipping it. When he plunders through it and starts pulling out my underwear, I charge over beside him and grab them. “Terry, I thought we agreed on this.”
He looks at me pointedly. “You said no sex. Fine. If that’s what you want, I won’t push you. But you’re my wife and you will sleep in my bed.”
The tone in his voice tells me not to argue. I almost do, but change my mind, and just nod my head. I don’t put up much of a fight because I want to sleep next to him. I want him close.
He starts opening drawers and I finish unpacking, but I catch myself looking at the ring on my finger and the way it sparkles. Today is supposed to be a happy day. It’s my wedding day. But it’s not. I know why he married me. I know he’s sacrificing to have married me and even though he says I’m helping him out too, I know the truth. I don’t know if it’s displaced honor or feeling responsible somehow. I look at him out of the corner of my eye and he’s leaning against the doorway staring at me.
“You just got married, honey. Why do you look so sad?”
I shrug my shoulders. Anymore, I don’t know what emotion is coming next. I blink back the tears and pray that I don’t lose it right now.
He walks over and grabs my hand, pulling me into the bathroom. He turns on the water in the bathtub and tosses my favorite bath salts in, the lavender scent filling the room. I don’t even question how he knew I liked it. He’s surprised me a few times this week with different things.
He lays a towel out and comes over to me. “You’re exhausted. Take a bath, rest up. I’m going to go shower and lock up the house.”
He doesn’t wait for me to answer. He kisses the top of my head and walks out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Nervousness fills me and I have a good talk with myself. I am going to refrain from sex. Right now, it will only complicate things.
I bathe quickly, thinking I want to be in bed before he gets there. I dress quickly and climb into bed, falling asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
Terry
I sit down in the chair across the room. I’m angled so I have a perfect view of her face. She’s already kicked off the blanket and her curvy body is covered head to toe in her pajamas. I know what she’s thinking. She’s hiding from me. But what she doesn’t know is that even fully dressed, I can still remember exactly what she looks like. Her curvy body is forever engrained on my mind. I dream about it. About her, and my cock buried deep in her hot channel.
She’s like an addicting drug. I’ve had her once and damn, but I’m jonesing for her. She’s all I think about and I won’t stop until I have her… body, heart and soul.
She rolls onto her back and her shirt raises, showing me just the briefest glimpse of the creamy white skin of her belly. I grab on to my hard dick and stroke it, once, twice before I release it and squeeze my hands onto my knees. I could jerk off right here, right now and she’d never know it. But I don’t want that. I don’t want to come until I’m seated so d
eep inside her that she doesn’t know where she starts and I end.
I climb into my side of the bed and watch her sleep. I try to fight it, but I can’t. I made a promise to her and I plan to keep it, but damn, it’s going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. I reach for her and pull her body over to mine. She snuggles into me and it’s only when our legs are intertwined and her hand is in mine that I’m able to succumb to sleep.
7
April
5 Months Later
I’m a beached whale. Hell, I’m bigger than a beached whale. I reach in the top cabinet, trying to grab the plates and my stomach won’t let me. I turn to the side, I turn every which way, and I just can’t grab it.
Terry comes up behind me and presses the front of his body to the back of mine to bring down two plates. With his body pressed against mine, I hold my breath, afraid that any movement on my part will make him pull away.
He sets the plates on the counter and his hands go to my hips. I bite my lip to stop the moan from escaping. His grip tightens before he releases me and steps back.
He’s completely unaffected while my heart is racing like I just ran a marathon. He’s talking about something at work and although usually I love his stories, today I could completely care less.
I drop the plates on the table and tell him, “I’ll be back, go ahead and start without me.”
I walk, or I guess I should say waddle as quick as I can to the bedroom. I fall to the bed and I can’t stop the tears from rolling down my face.
Terry has been perfect. He’s the most attentive man I’ve ever met in my life. He’s constantly doing things for me… always worried about how I’m feeling and what I need. He cleans up after himself, and if he’s off work, he’s doing stuff around here to help me out. I honestly couldn’t ask for a better husband – well, except for the fact that he’s not attracted to me – that puts a little damper on it. Every night we fall asleep, each of us on separate sides of the bed. By the time the morning comes, I’m wrapped completely around him.