by Gina Whitney
Ender’s husky voice was deep. “Don’t move…don’t fucking move.” But she continued to squirm, searching for the orgasm they wouldn’t give her.
Jake’s voice broke and a long, moaned hum. “Too good…feels too good. I can’t hang on…are you there yet?”
“Been there…waiting for you.” Ender’s voice came out strained as his orgasm built. Back and forth they went, for what seemed like hours.
Beauty, seemed as if she were drowning in the erotic sensations my cock provided and riveted by the threesome. My own fires grew. My muscles clenched, fighting for control every time the walls of her pussy contracted. Each thrust slow and deep. I kept my pace steady and my feet planted as I pushed in and out. I leaned back, trying to see her ring open and close around my piercings, but it was too dark. “Tell me where you want me to come, my love. Do you want it in your ass?” I surged forward. “In that tight pussy, or all over you back?” My thumb and forefinger pinched her clit until she responded.
“Come in my ass. I want to feel it leak out tomorrow.” She panted, yet her words were firm. My kinky bitch. That’s all the confirmation I needed to hear. My mind was consumed with passion and the emotion evoked by her words. But I held on…
Ender’s tongue plunged in and out of her mouth, and Jake came up on one knee, looking for a different angle. They fought for as long as they could. Battled, a sensual war. Both of them moaning at the same time. They felt it…she was squeezing…choking their cocks. She lost control, and now her body controlled her—them. The bed shook nosily and banged against the wall. Jake’s roar was deafening, his back arched and his hip pistoned into her, releasing his orgasm deep inside her. Ender grabbed her throat, surging upward, her pussy slapping him. One…two…three, and he released a joyous sob of pleasure. Jesus fuck. Jake reached over her back, pulling her ties free. Her hands fell, landing at her sides like dead weight, the three of them still bucking until they lay breathless on the bed in a heap of twisted limbs.
I reached up and palmed Beauty’s shoulder, shifting my angel so she was almost bouncing off my cock. Each thrust slapped her cheeks until I released one of my biggest loads into her fine ass.
“Fuck, I’m paralyzed and don’t want to move,” I said, feeling winded.
“Well, I can’t feel my fucking legs, rock star…so you’ll be carrying me home.” She shook. “And you owe me five orgasms…so there’s that, too.”
I pulled out of her, looking at the pretty picture before me. Absolutely, hands down, one of the best nights of my life. “With pleasure, my beauty…”
The temperature dropped; it was dark and pouring rain. A dismal morning after the beautiful day before. But there was also a storm brewing in my body. I felt weak and my body was heavy. I tried to move, but something restrained me. I tried to force my eyelids open but to no avail—they wouldn’t even crack. Your body’s exhausted, I thought. It was then that I felt my first back pains and the lingering discomfort that crawled around into my weighted abdomen.
My arm reached out across the bed only to find it empty. Ugh. Of all mornings for him to be up and out, leaving me alone. My heart started to race with worry and anticipation as I lay there, unable to move. I’d just started my thirty-sixth week, and I hoped I’d have this baby two weeks from now. But, thinking on it…I’ve had Braxton hicks for the last few weeks that I’ve ignored. I reached blindly across the nightstand for my cell phone. The slightest movement took the greatest effort, and I didn’t want to aggravate the situation by trying to get up and find him myself.
The pain increased, causing my eyes to pop open, and I started slowly rubbing my stomach. With my thumb, I scrolled through my favorites, hitting Abel’s number.
He answered on the first ring. “Morning, Beauty, I was just thinking about you…about last night.”
Last night was hot, and as promised, Abel gave me five orgasms. But despite only being a few hours ago, it felt like a lifetime. Another sharp pain came and my stomach hardened.
“You there?”
“I think it’s time.” My voice broke into a sob. I blew out a long, calming breath, but the tears came. This was my first child and I hadn’t a clue if this was the real start of labor or not. The phone disconnected before I said another word, and I prayed like hell it wasn’t a dropped call. The phone dropped out of my hand before I could make the next phone call—my obstetrician.
The sound of feet echoed through the hallway and the door swung open with a bang, causing me to jump…which sent pressure down my spine and into my lower back. My eyes closed and I growled, “Christ, you scared the fuck out of me. What’s wrong with you?”
Abel’s hands went up in a defensive posture as he approached. “You need to relax.” He helped me to a sitting position and put a few pillows behind my back. “Did you call the doctor?”
“No, I called you. Maybe it will pass?” I asked, taking tiny breaths. So far, the breathing technique I’d learned was doing shit and even caused me to hyperventilate.
Chance came flying in the room, panicked. “Where’s the hospital bag?”
“Got it,” Abel replied, walking out of the nursery with it on his shoulder as he spoke rapidly to someone. Beyond the pain and increasing grouchiness, seeing him with a diaper bag made me cry.
He hung up on whoever was on the phone and crossed the room. “Is it the pain?” he asked, taking a seat beside me.
I shook my head. It wasn’t about the pain now, but about the father of my baby. Well, that and I was scared to death. My emotions were nearly suffocating me. “You’re going to be a father,” I said, blinking away the tears.
Chance stood in the background, wiping his own. He knew how I’ve been struggling.
“And you’re going to be a fantastic mother,” he said, leaning in to kiss my forehead, and then called the doctor’s service.
Chance asked if I needed anything, but I didn’t want to move until I spoke to the doctor.
She called back a few minutes later and Abel relayed the questions as she had asked. “Did your water break and something about a mucus plug.” He winced and so did Chance.
The bed wasn’t wet beneath me and I honestly didn’t want to know anything about a mucus plug. “No to the water, and no clue to the other.”
He nodded. “How far apart are the contractions?”
I shrugged, as I hadn’t thought to time them. After a few more questions and vague answers from me, her advice was to walk, and that recommendation made me snarl. “Walk? Are you kidding me right now?”
Chance went to my closet and returned with a pair of slippers. “Here.” He handed them to Abel, who placed them on the floor.
“I think we should follow her advice. She wouldn’t suggest something that would cause you or the baby any harm,” he said as he pulled back the sheet to swing my legs over the bed.
“I know,” I answered, and he placed the slippers on my feet. “I can’t even see my damn feet.”
“Honey you haven’t seen your feet in over month. Let’s not harp on nonsense…let’s have this baby.” Chance grabbed my hair brush off the vanity. “Not only am I going to be an uncle, I’m also your one-man glam squad.”
The pressure between my legs grew unbearable, and I wanted to scream. “Come near me with that brush and I’ll kill you with my bare hands. I swear to god, Chance,” I yelled and his face paled. Abel smirked as another contraction wracked my body. “Fuck, that was definitely something. This can’t be false-labor.” I bent over, holding my stomach.
Abel threw his phone to Chance. “Make yourself useful and start timing the contractions. I’ll help her walk.”
Chance nodded and paced. We started to walk around our bedroom slowly. The jingle of keys and footsteps brought me back to the moment. I turned to the door to see who it was—Cindy and Woody.
They looked chummy standing shoulder to shoulder. “We’re going for breakfast…wanna join?”
I wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by being in my nightgown or curious that
they were together. We all knew it was a matter of time.
“We?” Chance asked as he timed my contractions.
“Shut it, Chance.” She snarled and then turned her attention to me. “The baby?” she asked, walking past Woody.
“I’m cramping,” I answered, forcing a weak smile. I grabbed both of Abel’s forearms and leaned into his chest, trying to fight the pain.
“The doctor thinks she’s going into labor,” Abel said over his shoulder as I dug my nails into his arms. He never complained…just took the pain. I knew he would take the agony for me if he could. He stuffed down his own feelings of confusion, pain, and anxiety to comfort me. He had to be as scared as I was, but he’d never show it. His eyes were fully focused on mine. “I’d feel better if we went to the hospital. You’re scaring the fuck out of me.”
Cindy rubbed my arm in gentle circles and said, “I agree.” Woody hadn’t said a word—his fingers texting furiously.
The terrace door blew open with a gust of wind and a pane of glass shattered. The draft swept through the bedroom and we all momentarily froze. I got a terrible, chilling sensation. A bubble burst inside of me and an odorless gush of water drenched the floor. “Oh my god, my water broke!” I screamed, and thunder boomed angrily outside. Abel’s face paled, and everyone sprang into action. Cindy grabbed the diaper bag, heading for the door. Next thing I knew…I was hoisted into Abel’s arms. Woody ran to secure the door, and Chance was still petrified in place. Figures, the one guy who is always triple prepared for everything freezes.
“Woody, grab Chance,” Abel yelled and carefully carried me into the bathroom. “Have the car out front…I’ll get her changed and cleaned up.”
He sat me down on the toilet seat and ran to my dresser. I was surprisingly calm for being so nervous. This was it. The last time it would be just he and I. God willing, I’d return with a bouncing healthy baby, and the omen I had would be just the feelings of fear.
Abel returned with a fresh pair of panties, bra, yoga pants and one of his Lethal Abel tee-shirts. I smiled. He shrugged. “Something of mine,” he said, grabbing a washcloth to clean me up.
“I already have something of yours,” I said, rubbing my stomach. He kissed the palm of my hand before dressing me.
We hurried to the car where Woody, Cindy, and Chance waited. Abel chose to drive, not wanting to take any chances. He needed something to control, and this labor wasn’t one of them. Woody rode shotgun while Cindy and Chance sat on either side of me. The warm winds began to howl as if some wolf was calling to some deep, dark secret. The swaying winds increased, blowing debris around. Abel veered out of the driveway; lightening flashed all around us and the rain started to pour.
The sheets of rain became an avalanche of a blinding storm. Abel kept driving, never saying a word. I’ve never seen rain like this in LA. This was the dry season—or so I thought. I began to pray, hoping we would make it to the hospital and not be killed. We were twenty minutes from the hospital with no traffic and the storm was proving to be formidable. We drove through the darkened curvy roads, and barely missed another car head on as he bulldozed his way though.
But we made it.
Abel lifted me from the car and noticed how badly shaken I was. Remorse blanketed his face as he carried me into the hospital, yelling to anyone and everyone for help. I remained eerily quiet despite the pain. The storm of my life was heading my way, and it seemed that prayer would not stop it. This baby was coming…
There were three labor suites and five delivery rooms. We settle into a private suite, and I was immediately hooked up to a monitor and examined by the nurse. She said I was three centimeters dilated and probably going to have the baby by the end of the day. Abel was freaking out. He sat down, stood up, sat down, walked to me and held my hand, sat down again, and then stood up and dialed his parents. Then I started to feel a hardening or tightening in my lower abdomen again. It felt like the baby was stretching before making an arrival. The nurse continued to read the printout of my contractions, circling as each one came.
“Get some rest, Ms. Mastro…this could go on for hours.” She smiled, and wrote something on my chart.
“Hours? I hope you’re kidding,” I argued. She didn’t say another word, her smile sympathetic as she hung my chart at the end of my bed and left.
Abel spent the next thirty minutes on his cell phone. I couldn’t blame him, as the stark reality was that, for the moment anyway, there wasn’t really much he could do for me.
“Where is everyone?”
“I told them to get something to eat. You heard the nurse…it’s going to be a while,” he said, pulling the recliner across the room to my bedside. He grabbed my swollen hand and held it to his face. He looked rough. His hair a perfect mess, unshaved, and exhausted—no doubt from his nerves.
“You should have gone, too. Go get something for yourself. You must be starved.” Hell, I was starved, but they already said no food.
“I can wait. Besides, I’m not really hungry right now.” He spoke softly, but I could see worry marring his face. He wouldn’t eat or drink until he knew the baby and I were okay.
A few hours passed. However, the contractions were coming steadily now. The next contraction came over my body and my mind. They said I was moving into active labor. An alarm rang and the room filled with nurses. I tried not to surrender to the pain…rise above it, but it was no use.
“Something is wrong. I can feel it,” I screamed. “Get this baby out of me now.” I lunged forward, holding the railing alongside my side. I couldn’t handle these contractions at this level. Subconsciously, I wasn’t going any further. I was not only sacred, I was exhausted.
Abel held a cool cloth to my head as I watched the room spin. “What going on? Is this normal?”
I didn’t hear the answer, but felt two fingers entering me harshly. “Turn her on her side,” someone in the room yelled. Latex hands gently rolled me onto my side and a pillow tucked under my stomach.
“Sometimes it happens,” the nurse answered.
“Sometimes what happens?” His voice was alert and concerned. “Where is her doctor?”
Another nurse answered, filling a long syringe, “On his way. The cord must be around the baby’s neck. With every contraction, it cuts off oxygen, causing the fetus to be in distress.
“Wait. What?” His fingers ran roughly through his hair, trying to make sense of the words he was hearing. “So stop the contractions!” he yelled.
“We’re trying.” She held a syringe to my IV and depressed until it was empty. “I’m also giving her something to relax her. It won’t do the baby any good if her heart rate isn’t steady.”
Abel looked to the monitor, fisting his hands. I wanted to reach out and comfort him. His glistening, loving eyes held steady on mine. However, a warming sensation traveled up though my veins and spread throughout my body, and then there was peace.
And darkness.
I was more than worried about Gia and the delivery. And very concerned with Gia’s state of mind. Above all, she was more important to me than anything. Once the doctor entered the room, I grabbed Gia’s hand, squeezing it and trying like hell to give her the strength I knew she needed. Whatever they gave her, she was barely awake and out of it. Dr. Mills slipped on latex gloves and greeted me with a smile. What the fuck is he smiling about? I was scared to death.
The machine started beeping sending an alarm through me, and again, everyone sprang into action. “Let’s try turning her on her right side.” The doctor and two nurses carefully rolled her. “It’s a strong one.” The nurse grabbed the printout and handed it to the doctor while another nurse wheeled over the sonogram machine.
He nodded as he read it and looked to the prior contractions, handing it back to the nurse. “It’s too late for External Cephelic,” he explained, and I had no fucking clue what that was. The nurse pushed Gia’s hospital gown up, and the doctor squirted the gel liberally onto her stomach. He moved the wand right, left, up, and
down. Then moved it down below her belly. The tech punched the keys as the doctor’s hand moved. “We have two problems,” he said, handing the instrument back to the tech. “The baby is breech, and it wasn’t last week. Which rarely happens, but it does happen. And two, the cord looks to be wrapped around twice. Which is a more usual occurrence.” His lips pulled into a grim line. “Bottom line, the baby needs to come out now.” He remained on Gia’s side and removed his gloves, giving verbal orders before jotting something down in her chart.
“What do you mean now?” My heart dropped out of my chest and to the floor.
“She’s been scheduled for a C-section July twentieth. We picked that date and hoped she wouldn’t go into labor sooner. However, Mother Nature had a different plan. I’ll have the OR prepped, and we’ll deliver the baby before any more complications.”
I nodded in agreement. No words came out of my mouth as they worked around her. One nurse grabbed the IV bag and held it high. Another locked and secured the bedrails. Before leaving, the doctor gave me a pat on my back, and all I wanted to do is stay with my beauty. Her eyes filled with tears. She squeezed my hand and promised it would be fine. However, I was always the one doing the reassuring…comforting, easing her mind. I felt uneasy, unsure, and out of control. The rug pulled out from under me, and I was free-falling into hell.
The nurses took Gia into the operating room to prep her for the surgery while I waited for what seemed like forever, but in actuality, was only about 20 minutes. My heart pounded and my breaths came out labored.
Cindy walked into the suite with a cup of Nitro-coffee and handed it to me. “Where’s G?” she asked, looking around the room. Her question started a nervous fluttering in my stomach, threatening to purge itself of its contents.
I sat in the chair next to the spot where Gia was, needing to collect myself. “They took her to the operating room to prep her for a C-section.”
She blinked a few times before realization hit. “She was going to get one anyway, right? She’s just doing it earlier.” A nurse walked in and handed me a pair of grey scrubs and a hair net.