I flopped into the kitchen chair holding my head. The phone still in my hand began to beep. Jamie stepped over and stared at me with concern.
“Michael, what’s wrong?” She took the phone and hung it up.
My heart was racing. My ears were ringing, and I was so lost. But I knew lying would not help at all.
“It’s…it’s Annabelle. She’s… Late.”
Jamie looked surprised, shocked, and then relaxed. “But I thought she used her diaphragm when she was with you guys?”
“She does, I mean she did. But you know that’s not perfect. Oh my God, I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Did she say anything else? Maybe she is off on her count. Or maybe her body is changing or something. Or maybe she was just freaked out that she’s having a third baby I know they only wanted the two.”
I know my beautiful wife was just saying these things to make me feel better. We both knew if there was anyone on the planet who said they knew their menstrual cycle better than my sister Annabelle they would be lying. One of her greatest passions after her Psych practice was her drive to make women’s health issues more open; to encourage women to take control of their bodies.
“No, I don’t think that’s it.”
Jamie’s voice was low as she squeezed my hand. “Did she say she thinks it’s yours?”
I shook my head.
She was about to speak again, but I cut her off. “James, I think I need to go see her. Joel is – “
“In Madison. Yeah, I know. Well then grab a bag and go. Go support the woman you love; the other woman you love is giving you her blessing.” With that, she leaned down and kissed me passionately and supportively. She really was the best.
After a couple of calls to work and some rearrangements with stuff about Oscar, I was in the car and headed off. The last thing she said to me was, “If this is your baby Michael, then we will do everything we can to make sure they have a great life. A child conceived in love deserves to be raised in love.”
My eyes welled up with tears and I gave her one more kiss. “You are the best. I love you.”
The trip felt longer even though it wasn’t. The weight of possibility sat on my chest like cinder blocks. After almost ninety minutes. I was pulling into Annabelle’s driveway. I hopped out, leaving my bag until later. I made no assumptions.
The door opened as I approached it, and Nicole rushed out to greet me. “Uncle Mick! Mommy didn’t say you were coming over to visit.”
“Hi Nic-knack! because she didn’t know I was- it’s a surprise.”
We held hands and walked into the house.
“Mommy doesn’t feel good. She’s lying on her bed.”
“Thank you, sweetie. I’ll check up on her. Are you guys okay?”
“Yes. I am doing my math work and Vincent is playing blocks.”
I kissed the top of her head, dropped my jacket on a chair, noting that their lunch had not been cleaned up. I stepped into the hallway. The door was almost closed, and I knocked gently.
I pushed it open and saw her lying on top of the covers. Her beautiful hair was spread out. Her hand was clutching a box of Kleenex, and she was wearing a simple green dress that clung to her body in a pleasant way. Even in a difficult moment like this, I could not help but admire how beautiful and sexy she always was.
“Anna, it’s me.”
She started and looked up. At first, she was going to be pissed. Perhaps angry that I had come to somehow rescue her, a masculine trait she absolutely loathed. But then she softened and opened her arms as tears came.
I crossed the bed and held her close, and we kissed gently.
“I’m not going to say it’s going to be OK because I don’t know that. But I do want you to know you’re not alone. And I love you very much.”
She stifled a sob and kissed me. This one was a little more passionate. It was a “loving partner,” kiss, but not a kiss of someone who wanted sex. It was precious.
We pulled back and just lay there. She snuggled up and put her head on my shoulder. I just caressed her and ran my fingers through her hair.
Eventually, she started to speak in a tone reserved for deep emotional distress
“It’s been almost three weeks. Mick…some people wouldn’t consider that late, but I know my body. And I felt… something this morning. Not pregnant like I felt with them both. You know what I mean?”
I had a moment where I thought, ‘Maybe you feel different because it’s mine, not his.’
I kept that to myself.
Instead, I shrugged and smiled and said, “Not really, but I’m going to have to trust you.”
She playfully slapped my stomach. “You know what I mean, ass. Women know.”
I simply grunted affirmatively, recalling that Jamie knew almost right away, or within two days after that glorious night of sex where we conceived Oscar. I remember her rolling over in bed smiling at me and saying, “Daddy. I think we made a baby.”
A touch of fear ran across her eyes. “I haven’t called Joel yet.”
I nodded.
“I want to buy one of those home tests they have at the drugstore. Will you go with me?”
I kissed her on the forehead. “You don’t even need to ask that. In fact, I’ll just go get it if you want.”
She let her body go limp. “Just hold me, please, baby. We can talk about what to do later… I don’t have the strength right now…”
“Not right now, maybe but…you are the strongest woman I know.”
She squeezed me tight. “Thank you for being here. Is Jamie okay?”
“Jamie is great. It was kind of her idea that I come. She said if you want to call her, she’d be happy to talk.”
Annabelle looked up at me and smiled, and we kissed again. This one felt more urgent, filled with some traces of desperation. I let her take the lead, and soon she was laying on top of me. We passionately made out: she sucked my tongue like a dick. She was actually grinding herself against my inevitable erection.
Did she want to make love to forget about it? To erase it somehow?
Or did she need the pleasure and calm a good orgasm could bring?
My mind asked all the questions that my cock refused to acknowledge.
“Anna, do you really want to -“
She stopped me with a sexy finger on my lips. Then she got up. “Stay here.”
She went out the door and I heard a muffled conversation with her children. I pushed off my shoes, undid my pants discovering a little bit of her wetness on my zipper front.
I was surprised at her state; she was pretty calm considering. And apparently very horny. Then I heard a flush and water running. She returned, closed and locked the door.
I lay on their bed, propped up on my elbows. I couldn’t read her. She had put her hair into a ponytail and taken off her glasses.
She bent and lifted her dress up and off, tossing it on the floor. She wasn’t wearing anything under it, and she looked amazing. Her fabulous breasts hung precisely where I loved them, the post-natal brown nipples pointy and proud.
She crawled over to me, her tits swaying, her face showing lustful need. Her skin looked soft and inviting as she moved between sunlight and shadow from the window. She kissed me fiercely, her left hand grabbing my erection and squeezing it so hard that I winced.
I wasn’t sure if she was angry at my penis or all penises in general. Regardless, it still felt good because it was her.
She sucked my earlobe, which she knows I love, and raggedly said, “Get this thing out. I need to be fucked.”
I was not going to question her. I had learned long ago, this woman was not to be trifled with when she had a mission. I slid my jeans off with my underwear and tossed them to the floor. My cock bounced and she gripped it tightly again. This time she stroked it, but so firmly pre-cum was bubbling out.
She bent over me and offered me her right breast. I took the turgid nipple in my mouth and sucked. She leaned her weight down as if smothering my face with her chest. I sucked harder, my hands gripping her back and ass. She continued to angrily stroke my cock, and I was beginning to ache.
This was intense and a bit frightening, yet I had to just be there for her. I had to let her use me for whatever purpose would make her feel better. I loved her.
She pulled my head back, and I gasped for breath. Her nipple was red and wet with my saliva. She looked down at me and shoved me to her other breast and I repeated the same action. Now she was gripping my balls and squeezing them with the same firm grip as my cock…bordering on painful.
I shook seizure-like as I tried to concentrate on pleasing her nipple and not the ball pain. She was moaning and grunting, tossing her head in pain/pleasure. Her face was squeezed and aggravated.
Should I stop her? Should I ask her if this is what she really wanted?
She released my boys, and I popped off again. She quickly straddled me. Gripping the base of my cock and digging her hand into my chest, she lined herself up and slowly lowered down.
Her pussy was wet and wanting and immediately started gripping me. If there’s anyone who knew how to use their Kegel muscles better, I’d like to meet them.
I pushed down into the mattress then thrust up to match her. The hand on my chest dug into me through my t-shirt and I winced in pain again.
She was stiff, eyes closed her head tilted back.
Her voice was almost demonic. It was so low.“Just…stay sssstill…”
Her fingers loosened on my chest, and she began to rock. Her hairy bush rubbed against my pelvic bone, making a wonderful sound of crinkled and wet simultaneously.
She was an otherworldly creature creating a spell with rhythmic humming.
Her hands grabbed the side of her head as if trying to block out all noise and distraction and she whirled her ponytail around to the same speed of her vaginal grind.
Her breasts swayed as she used my cock for her own pleasure. I dared not even hold her ass or legs.
She was working through something, and I was her willing tool.
She soon began to rise and fall. Taking care of all of the actual fucking on her own. I felt myself heading to a place ruled by sex like I had never experienced. There was nothing soft nor, dare I say, even loving about it. It was raw and exposed and screamed with need.
Her wet up and down was having the desired effect. Her pussy was pumping me like it never had before. Like it wanted to adoringly hold me inside and tear my cock from my flesh.
Annabelle’s body was stiffening, and her voice was softly keening. She was pinching her own breasts, something she rarely did. This woman was on the verge.
Unable to maintain a static state, my body instinctively ground upwards. I held my breath. My body went still out of fear. She half opened her eyes and looked down at me from a fog of lust, tears of confusion, and a chaos of unknowns.
She nodded slightly. Her eyes closed again.
I thrust up into her and she choke-screamed, “Ohh Gooooddd…” Now we were finally moving together.
Her voice was ragged trying to hold the volume down, so as not to frighten her children. “Fuck yes, Mick! Fill me up, baby brother!”
I gladly obliged. My cock finally felt comfortable enough to swell and do exactly that. As always, we molded together perfectly, our bodies latched and headed to mutual bliss.
Finally grabbing hold of her hips, I drove up into her. She bent down, her breasts flopping as she continued to bounce her pussy up and down my shaft. She grabbed the back of my neck and with the same force she used earlier, slammed my mouth against her breast. This new act was confusingly intoxicating. I gladly sucked her nipple with power and she mutedly cried out in tears. I tried to pull back, but she held me there.
In this moment, I had sudden clarity: this is not anger, not regret.
She believes she has done something wrong.
This is punishment
Just before I could stop and try to settle her, she bit her lip and sat up straight. Her orgasm ripped through her body, shredding nerves and grabbing senses. Sweat poured from her forehead like the tears from her eyes. She let out a silent scream, then her face finally relaxed into pleasure.
My cock was afraid to join her. But once I saw she had gained something positive in the moment I stiffened and exploded up inside her. This one felt so different. I felt every single ounce of it leaving my balls and firing up my shaft. It was sensory overload.
We collapsed hard. Annabelle fell onto me a marionette with cut strings. I caught her and we sank into the bed together.
Our breathing regulated itself, and her body eventually settled enough that her pussy let go of my cock. It slid out and she hummed quietly in disappointment.
I just held her; our breathing beginning to match. Nothing moving just our chests.
Without lifting her head, she quietly said in a voice almost devoid of emotion, “The most awful part of all of this is my fear that if I am pregnant, this baby won’t have Joel’s eyes and hair. It will obviously not be his.”
I began to lightly run my fingers up and down her back to soothe her. Then I finally got the courage to the ask question I had been holding back.
“If this is my baby, do you really think it should be marked as a mistake from its birth?”
It was as if someone had zapped her awake. Her head snapped back, her arms flexed, and she was suddenly over me, eyes wide, a shocked expression on her face.
“Do you really think that’s what I think? If you gave me a baby, it would be a mistake?”
I paused and took a breath, “Yes, I do. I think that’s what this is all about. Isn’t it?”
She looked down between us at her sore and aching breasts. They were red with circles that must’ve been made by my lips and teeth. It was my attack upon her orders.
She shook and a primal sob came up through her body and spilled out onto my chest. It shook her and took a good ten seconds to recover. “I’m sorry Mick. You are exactly right. I did think that. And I’m an awful person.”
I made to protest, but she rolled off and sat at the edge of the bed looking away.
“I am so angry…in case you didn’t catch on. I’m angry at myself for letting this happen. I’m not at all angry at you. And as I’ve said many times before, I don’t ever regret the love and relationship we have. You are precious to me.”
I smiled and offered my hand. She squeezed it and went on.
“Please forgive me, baby. I don’t know what I’m gonna do with a third child. But if it’s yours or his, I will love it just the same.
I rolled over and behind her, taking her into a hug. We gripped one another exchanging love energy and circulating our emotions to dissipate the bad and elevate the good.
“Okay, that is step one. Let’s get cleaned up and I can head over to the drugstore for stuff. I love you, Annabelle.
She had a hand on my cheek and tears in her eyes. “I love you, Mick. I don’t think I deserve you, but the universe gave you to me. Twisted and perverted as that might be; and obnoxious as you are most of the time.”
My hand came down swiftly, but not too hard, and slapped her right ass cheek.
“Oww! Brat!”
“Get, you slutty nut. You stink.”
She stuck her tongue out in a raspberry, then picked up her dress. Almost as an act of defiance, or more like ‘don’t you dare tell me what to do,’ she went ahead and put it on anyway.
“You shower. I was already sweaty and sad looking before you got here so not much has changed.”
She smiled at me as she left, her eyes lit up like they have many times before. Much of the sadness and anger of the last half an hour gone. But enough lurked to remind me that this was anything but over.
A lot had changed.
More than we knew.
Thank you for reading this. If you liked it, hit the heart, if you really liked it hit that star.
And always feel free to leave a comment. I tried to respond to them all.
Thanks for sticking with me, Matt.
Next: Sister So Sexy: Solutions
