Between The Spreadsheets

by Nicky Fox

  I begin to rub higher on his leg. He hasn’t noticed yet and I want it that way. I want him horny just like I am, a slow and steady climb until he bursts with want for me and then it’ll be on like Donkey Kong. I creep up his leg until I brush his manhood and I sigh. Hello, old friend. I’ve missed you so much. Dylan is still looking at his phone. I don’t think he notices that his hips are moving slightly against my hand. I knew it! He’s freaking horny too.

  Before I know it, I’ve mounted Dylan and am rubbing on him like a two-dollar whore. His hands go up like he’s under arrest and I’m grabbing his face to make out like our lives depend on this contact. He’s obviously taken by surprise and I take advantage of that and shove my tongue in his mouth. Dylan moans . . . or grunts in alert, I can’t tell which. I don’t stop. His hard-on is hitting just the right spot and I’m a few seconds away from an orgasm, just from grinding. That in a nutshell says how freaking horny this pregnant woman is.

  “Whoa, whoa, Andy. What are you doing?” Dylan slows my hips and my rising orgasm has diminished into the abyss. I look devastatingly at Dylan and just begin to cry. I needed that orgasm like my next breath. There’s so much pent up lust, I’m about to burst. I was just denied release and now I’m a crying mess on this monster’s lap.

  “I need an orgasm so bad!” I wail. Dylan grips my chin and raises my head up to meet his gorgeous eyes. He looks startled and confused.

  “What’s going on, Andy? Talk to me.” As if he didn’t know!

  “What’s wrong? I’m horny as fuck and I need your dick to remedy the situation. I need it so bad.” My voice cracks on the last word and I’m beyond mortified I’m practically begging him for his Johnson. The man has the guile to laugh at me. Seriously? I begin to push off him but, he grabs my forearms and keeps me in his lap.

  “I don’t mean to laugh. It’s different to hear you wanting me so bad. Usually it’s the other way around.” He rubs my upper arms in a calming gesture.

  “Why don’t you want me?” I sniffle.

  “Oh, baby. I want you so bad. I know it sounds stupid, but you have this little baby growing inside you. You’re like this angel carrying my baby and I need to be delicate with you. You know how I am during sex. I’m not delicate. I’m really rough. I don’t want to hurt you or the baby. You just make me so crazy sometimes when we’re in the heat of the moment.” He sighs and leans his forehead against mine. “Never doubt that I want you that way. I’ll always want you that way.”

  I cradle his face and take in his sweet words. I completely understand where he’s coming from. He is rough with me during sex and I love it. He would never hurt me or the baby. I’m just going to have to take matters in my own hands. “Do you trust me?” Dylan looks at me and nods. “Okay, take off your pants and I’ll be right back.”

  “Baby, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I move off him. I’m not deterred. This is happening. He goes ahead and begins to unbutton his pants anyway. Good man. I come back from our bedroom and hide the item behind my back.

  “Okay, now give me your hands.” He holds out his hands like we’re going to pray or something. He’ll be praying for a reprieve that’s for sure. I’m going to be riding this man till the sun comes up and it’s time for me to go to work. I giggle to myself. This is going to be good. He’ll be begging for mercy soon enough. I’m going to ring him of every bit of sperm in his body.

  I quickly move the pink furry cuffs from around my back and click them together on his hands before he can realize what’s going on. “Ugh, Andy. What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going to ride you into next Tuesday and there’s nothing you can do about it. Your hands are literally tied.” I evil laugh and I think it scares Dylan. This is going to be fun. I pull off my panties and don’t even bother to take off his shirt that I’m wearing. “Ready or not, here I come.” I laugh.

  Dylan seems pretty turned on and amped up for me to take over and give us what we both need. I pull out his cock from his boxers and he’s ready to go. He’s so hard and there’s already precum dripping from his shaft. He needs this too. His dick seems mad that he’s been denying his need. I’ll make everything feel better.

  I grab the middle of the cuffs and pin them behind his head against the seat cushion of the couch. “Damn, baby. This is so hot. Ride my dick.” I sit in his lap, rubbing my wetness all over his aching cock. I was so close a few minutes ago, I bet I can come just from this friction. I bend down to kiss Dylan’s lips. They’re so soft, but our kiss is rough. Sliding back and forth on his cock feels incredible. My clit is getting the attention it needs.

  “Dylan,” I sigh. “I love your hard cock.”

  He groans loudly. There’s tension in his arms and I realize his hands are in fists. Teasing him like this makes him even more aroused.

  “Fuck, princess. I love it when you talk about my dick. You’re so wet.” His hips bump up to meet my grind. My head falls back as I concentrate on this connection. My aching pussy is about to erupt into a volcanic orgasm.

  “I’m gonna come.” I grip his arms that lie beside his head. My breathing hitches and then I scream. I might’ve blacked out. The next thing I know, I’m lying on Dylan’s chest panting.

  “Damn. That was so hot.”

  It’s not over yet. Moving my hair away from my sticky face, I give Dylan a satisfied smile. Bending down, I give him a sweet kiss.

  Then, I’m on my knees lining myself over him. Slowly, I slide down his hardness just to torture us both. It’s the most delicious feeling. “Fuck, you’re so tight, angel.” Oh, I like it when he calls me angel. It makes me feel precious. I grind against his pelvis and feel that sweet friction. I moan while Dylan grunts over my movements.

  “Oh.” It feels amazing. Slowly, I rise up and down tormenting us both with the slow rhythm. I revel in the feeling of us together again. The sensation is overwhelming. I want to be with this man. I really need him in my life. This man can completely destroy me and he has, but I keep coming back. There’s nothing that can make me stay away. He’s become so much to me. The man I once couldn’t stand to be around has become my everything, the love of my life. I grip on to his shoulders tight as I ride him. My rhythm falters as I begin to feel the start of my orgasm take hold of me. Dylan can’t help himself, he begins to pump his hips harder into me. I moan and grit my teeth as Dylan lets out a loud roar. We come at the same time, staring into each other’s eyes. I kiss him fiercely. I love you, I don’t say.

  Birdie runs in checking on us. We’re making a lot of noise. I love it. We needed this connection. Birdie sniffs around at our feet and loses interest. She trots on over to her piggy bed near the kitchen and lies down. Dylan is still inside me and not soft at all. I begin to grind against him again. He moans. Yes, we’re both ready for round two. If there’s anything I’m sure of it’s Dylan’s stamina. He can go hours. I’m betting on that tonight. I’m just getting started. The cuffs will be staying on for a while.

  I know Dylan won’t hurt me during sex. Truth is, he never has. Everything he’s ever done in bed has been perfect and exactly what my body craves. I’ll let him think he can’t handle himself a little while longer while I have him cuffed. This whole scenario just makes this mating even more erotic. I can’t wait to move this to the bedroom. I have a few ideas to make this even more fun, but at the moment I just need another orgasm and can’t be bothered to change scenery.

  The second time we make love that night is slow and sensual. We look into each other’s eyes and it really does feel like love. He cradles my head and whispers dirty words in my ear. I grip on to him so hard. I never want to let go. We finally move into the bedroom and the cuffs come off and he holds me, cradling my small belly like we’re the most precious things in the world.

  15

  Dylan seems nervous today. I don’t know what’s up with him, but he’s been pacing all morning. It’s Saturday, and he woke me up the usual way with his beard between my legs. It’s my favorite.
He woke me up pretty early too; I wonder what’s on his mind. I wrap my hands around him from behind.

  “What are you thinking about? You’ve been acting weird.” He turns around and looks me up and down. “What do you think?” I twirl around in my pink cotton dress.

  “I think you look beautiful.” He seems a bit melancholy.

  “So, where are we going this morning? Pancakes?” I ask excitedly. He shakes his head slowly. “Dylan, what’s wrong? You’re kinda freaking me out.” He takes my hands in both of his.

  “My mom wants to do brunch with us this morning.” I pull away from his hands. His mother? He’s never said a word about his parents. I thought they were both dead. Wait. This morning?

  “What do you mean this morning? Why didn’t you tell me? You just sprung this on me. I need to prepare. Oh my gosh. What the hell, Dylan? A girl has to prepare to meet the parents. I can’t believe you . . . ugh!” I pace back and forth in the kitchen almost pulling my hair out. Why did I have to fall for a Neanderthal? He’s so stupid!

  “Andy. Andy, baby. It’s . . .”

  I point in his face. “If you’re going to say that it’s okay, I’m going to slap you!” He squeezes his lips shut. I’m freaking out. What if she doesn’t like me? It took a while for Dylan to even warm up to me. Shit. This is a lot of pressure. She’s going to be the grandmother to my child. I’m not ready for this right now.

  “Andy, I can tell you’re freaking out a little.” I turn and give him a look that says I’m not freaking out a little. I’m freaking out a lot. “Look, my mom hates everyone. It doesn’t matter. She’s not like normal moms. It’s just something we have to muddle through. She wanted to meet you since you’re expecting her grandchild. It’s probably just something she can talk to other old women about. It really doesn’t matter.” What the hell does that mean? She’s not like other moms? Then a hear a sharp honk from outside. “Oh, that’s her driver to come pick us up. Let’s go.” Driver?

  Dylan grabs my arm and we head down to the car waiting for us. I’m so not ready for this. The driver opens the door for us. I’m expecting to see his mother in the backseat, but no one is there. Apparently, we’re meeting her at a restaurant downtown. On the way Dylan informs me that his mom is rich as fuck and lives downtown. His father died a very long time ago, when he was only five. Nannies mostly raised him while his mother spent his father’s money. She sounds like a cold woman. I feel bad for Dylan. It sounds like he didn’t have anyone to love. Maybe that’s why he’s so afraid of it, because he’s never had it before. The car stops and suddenly I’m looking up at the impressive Four Seasons Hotel. Dylan helps me out of the car. He rolls his eyes at the place and we bypass the doormen. I guess Dylan’s been here before because he knows exactly where the dining area is.

  The maître d’ greets us at the entrance. “Elizabeth Ryder’s party,” Dylan announces his mom’s name. I scout the area to see if I can see an older woman with a stick up her ass, but there’s so many of them here, I can’t figure out which one she is. I giggle to myself. The expensive dark marble floors stand out against the light color of the walls. The square wood tables are accented with colorful club chairs. The space is beautiful. I wish I could appreciate it more. My stomach is in knots. The host nods and we follow him to a small table near a window overlooking Chicago’s towering buildings.

  There’s a woman who looks like she’s had a lot of tightening done. It gives her a bit of a pinched look. Her dark brown hair is definitely not natural but her piercing eyes looks familiar. Her dainty wrinkled hand comes up for a kiss from Dylan. She has yet to acknowledge my presence.

  “Dylan,” her deep voice rumbles.

  “Mother,” Dylan replies, sounding more formal than I’ve ever heard him before. “This is Andrea Roberts.” Andrea? Wow. This is more formal than I even imagined. I feel like I’m on an interview where I don’t even want the job. She just nods in my direction and instructs us to sit with the wave of her hand. If she were a Disney character she would definitely be Maleficent. She gives me the willies. Dylan pulls my chair out and then sits down himself. I stay quiet, letting him have the lead on this.

  Well, this chick gives off a superiority vibe. I’m surprised this is Dylan’s mother.

  “Now, what is this about you having a baby?” She sips on her teacup, awaiting Dylan’s answer. From the sound of that question, she doesn’t seem too pleased. It makes me sad.

  If my mom were still alive, she’d be the most ecstatic grandmother ever. We’d go baby shopping, she’d help me design the nursery, and tell me how it was when she was pregnant with me. I miss her so much. Cancer sucks. She was the light in my life. While my father worked all the time, she dedicated her life to raising me. Then we received the news that she had lung cancer. It came as such a shock since she never smoked. She was gung ho about beating it and coming out the other side . . . except she didn’t. She became increasingly worse. My father just buried himself in work more. I think he did love her in his own shitty way. I took care of her until her last day.

  “Are you crying?” Dylan whispers in my ear. I quickly wipe away a tear I didn’t even realize was there. I feel embarrassed. His mom is looking at me like I’m some piranha. She’s absolutely horrified. It makes me laugh.

  “Sorry, mood swings.” I giggle as I wipe my cheek with a cloth napkin.

  Elizabeth rings her hands in front of her seeming flustered. “Yes. Well, Dylan tells me your about five months pregnant now?” Oh. She’s talking to me now?

  “Yes. I have another sonogram next week. We should know the gender of the baby then.” I smile, beaming at Dylan. He’s been looking forward to seeing if we’re having a girl or boy. We can’t seem to agree on a name. I like fun names like Zander and Tootsie. Dylan said I have the worst taste in names. He likes Oliver or Beth. Which, now that I think of it, that’s a deviation of his mom’s name. What the hell?

  “When can you tell if it’s yours, Dylan?” Elizabeth replies. I’m stupefied. I’m sure my mouth is hanging open. Did that women just imply that I’m loose? What the actual fuck? Dylan squeezes my hand, but it does nothing to calm me down.

  “Excuse me?” I grit through my teeth.

  “Mother, I spoke to you about this. I know it’s mine.” I look incredulously at Dylan. He talked to her about this before? WHAT? I feel betrayed. He just threw me in shark infested waters with this woman and all I’m armed with is a floaty.

  “Well, you never know these days.” She shrugs as if she didn’t just insult me. I stand up swiftly and throw my napkin down on the table.

  “You know how he knows the baby is his? It’s because we fuck like rabbits. All. The. Time.” Her mouth drops open and I make my way out of the restaurant. I mean seriously, who does she think she is? The Queen of Sheba? I’m out of here. I don’t need this shit at five months pregnant. I need to be decorating a nursery and sitting on my ass playing video games.

  I hail a taxi quickly. Dylan doesn’t follow me out. I’m too pissed to deal with him either. What did he think would happen? I mean why even meet his mom if she’s going to act like an entitled debutante? I use Dylan’s credit card that he gave me for baby purchases and pay the taxi to go to his place so I can pick up Birdie. I need some time away from the Ryders.

  Birdie is excited. She thinks we’re going for a walk. We arrive back at my small studio a few minutes later. She plops down in the middle of the floor like she’s throwing a tantrum. It makes me laugh. “Oh, Birdie. You’re the only one I can count on. Do you know that?” I snuggle with her on the floor and cry silently. I’m so tired of this. I’m tired of being let down. I want someone to have my back, to look out for me. Dylan served me up on a silver platter to his mom.

  If they spoke about paternity previously he should’ve known she would act like that. Why did he even introduce us? I need a partner who looks out for me. A man that really cares about me wouldn’t have put me in that situation.

  I get up and change into some comfy pajamas. I’m spen
ding the rest of the day inside my modest studio. I don’t want any more drama today unless it comes in the form of a Disney movie. A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. Two guesses who that is. I huff and ignore it. Birdie, of course, hops on over to the door and squeals like the traitor she is.

  “Come on, Andy. I know you’re in there. I can hear Birdie.” Yeah, she’s practically humping the door to get to him. Well you can have him, girl. Crossing my arms, I settle in on the couch. I’m probably not acting very mature right now, but I’m so tired of feeling like trash. I want to be treated like a princess. Sounds funny now. “Andy, I’m tired of talking through the door. Please, open up.”

  I bound to the door and yell. “You’re tired? I’m tired of being treated like crap. You knew your mom was going to be rude to me and you still brought me there. You didn’t think about me at all. I love you and all you keep doing is hurting me. I’m so done!” My voice cracks and I begin to cry again.

  “You love me?” Dylan whispers through the door as if he can’t believe it.

  I slide down to the floor. “Just leave, Dylan. I don’t want to see you.”

  16

  He doesn’t leave immediately. He stakes out a few hours at my door, but then finally leaves before dinner. I’m relieved when he does. This is just too much stress during my pregnancy. I don’t need this. I lie down and take a nap with Birdie for a while. I’m awoken sometime later by a light tapping at my door. I slowly get up and when I look through the peephole sure enough, there’s Dylan.