by K T Morrison
Carly was still looking around, her shoulder moving as she rubbed his cock through his pants. She said, “Where?”
Sean said, “Go to the bathroom. You’ve got your reproduction license…”
That made Carly dart her eyes to Hollis. He gave her a small nod. “The bathrooms?” she whispered
Hollis didn’t need any more encouraging, and now he reached between his legs and took her hand, slid out the opposite end of the banquette guiding Carly along behind him. She slipped out to stand as well, and he put his hands on her hips, guided her to stand in front of him. In the moment before she blotted the view between his legs, Sean could see the front of Hollis’s trousers tented out by his erection. Carly looked down and behind her, wondering what Hollis was doing, then realizing she needed to shield him so the patrons wouldn’t see his enormous baby-maker.
“Okay, come on, come with me,” she said and shuffled down the two steps, walking slow so Hollis could be close behind her.
Hollis said to Sean, “We’ll be right back.”
Sean said, “Okay. I’ll be here.”
Now he watched as his wife shuffled down the aisle toward the bathrooms, Hollis pointing the sign out over her shoulder as they squeezed through the crowd gathered at the counter.
Carly hadn’t said a thing to him before she left. All she could think about was having sex with their donor…
12
Sean sat for five minutes but didn’t eat anything. Used the tines of his fork to poke through the idra, drawing lines in the green chutney and dissecting parsley leaves, but he didn’t put anything in his mouth. He thought he could sit there and wait, but after only a few minutes he was going out of his mind. What were they doing in the bathroom?
Well, it was a stupid question. He knew what they were doing. But was Carly enjoying it?
Another stupid question.
He let his fork down onto the plate with a loud ceramic bash. He laced his fingers together, clenched his face and squinted up at the bright lights of the overhanging lamp. He could imagine what they were doing. Could imagine the sounds his wife was making right now as she acquired baby material from another man. Another man who drove deep pleasure into Carly, provoking sounds from her he’d never heard before. A man who brought a rosy shine to her face and a glassy, vacant quality to her eyes. And that smile on her face…
He untucked his shirt from his pants, let it hang below the sweater. He was hard as a rock. Slipping along the banquette, he eased down the two steps adjusting the front of the sweater to make sure the shirttails covered the bowed out front of his pants.
The closer he got to the bathroom the harder his heart pounded. The vision of the lit-up letters spelling out convenience room warbled and blurred. Then he was passing underneath, going down the old narrow hallway. He paused at the door that went into the washroom, worried about what he would hear. Then worried the door would be locked. That got him moving again, and he pushed with his tented fingers, relieved to feel the door push away in the frame.
Now he was slipping inside, letting the door close behind him gently so it wouldn’t make a sound. There was no one else in the bathroom, but there were two people in one of the stalls. There were five stalls along one wall but he could tell which one they were behind. There was a soft, gentle gasping ballooning out the top of the cubicle frame. Syncopated breathy Carly sounds as she was fucked by Hollis.
His feet shuffled along the tiles, keeping his back to the mirrored wall, then he opened the cubicle next to theirs and stepped inside. There was a gap between the dividing wall and the floor—about two feet of space below. He could see Hollis’s huge shoes.
The man was seated, legs out wide, on the toilet. Inside that space Sean could hear his own wife gasping with pleasure right next to him. They had slowed when he came in, both of them aware that another patron had entered the washroom, but it didn’t stop them. Their breaths came quicker; Sean squeezed his erection through his pants.
Carly began a soft moaning in time with the pounding. But then a new sound began. Soft breaths, the gentle whine of pleasure, then the soft whomping of flesh against flesh. Carly’s bottom bouncing in Hollis’s lap. Sean watched the space, watched Hollis’s shoes shift around on the floor. Hollis began grunting as well, a low grumbling sound that came with each thrust.
As the gasping came at a more frenetic pace, Carly suddenly slipped from his lap and Sean watched his wife’s loafers come down hard on the floor on either side of the toilet. He watched the bend of her foot as she orgasmed on her lover’s huge cock; heard her cries of ecstasy and watched her legs shake. She was clutched to Hollis; he knew it. He could only see their feet but he knew his wife had her arms wrapped around his neck, grinding her bottom down on the huge erection buried deep inside her.
Hollis was coming now too, his feet kicking, his grunts becoming groans. When he ejaculated inside her, Carly let out a loud, plaintive cry. It was a joyous sort of sound despite a certain lamenting in it. Lamenting the act was over. Lamenting the pleasure was done. But the delivery of this man’s seed was the whole reason they were even here.
Sean pulsed pre-come inside his underwear and his stomach ached. He could hear both of them panting now, breathing and chuckling against each other. Carly set her feet flat on the ground, and she rose up off of Hollis. She stood now and must be leaning against the door of the cubicle.
Carly said, “You look so amazing right now.”
Hollis’s deep voice: “You do too. Show it to me.”
Carly gasped. “Show it to you?” Her voice was a soft hiss.
“Take your hands away and show it to me.”
There was a long moment of silence and then Carly’s feet shuffled and he could see her loafers spreading a little wider on the floor and he was sure his wife was showing the mess between her own legs to the man who’d made it.
Hollis’s deep voice again: “Now that looks amazing.”
“Doesn’t it?” Her voice was light and happy.
“It looks amazing, Carly. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”
Despite the hurt it put in him, there was something warm and tender about Hollis’s words. Soft pleasure began to thud with the emotional hurt that was pounding through his bloodstream right now.
They were muttering things to each other now and Sean couldn’t make out what they were saying. She was whispering and Hollis was chuckling. Sean watched the big man’s shoes move around now, and then Carly’s moving. He watched Carly’s shoes shuffle around till she was facing away, her face must be right against the cubicle door. Hollis moved forward, sitting on the edge of the toilet. Kissing sounds came, and there was only one thing it could be…
Hollis’s lips on Carly’s backside. Maybe kissing her rump, maybe kissing the backs of her thighs. Maybe even if she bent over far enough, the man could be suckling at her sex. But then wouldn’t he be removing the seed he’d just put in there? Sean groaned again, grabbed at his stomach as the spicy chutney whirled a lazy dust devil inside him.
Now Hollis was standing again, the sound of the toilet seat groaning as his weight came off it. Sean watched his big size 14 shoes come around on either side of Carly’s size 6 loafers. Low grumbling again, the big man whispering in his wife’s ear.
Sean’s ears were alive, picking up every sound in the silent bathroom. He could hear the soft mucous membrane sounds as that huge cock slid inside her, Hollis doing her again right away, this time from behind. Carly let out a gasp; he watched his wife’s loafers go up on their toes. She made a pained, complaining sound as he entered her—but then the whomping of flesh again, and any sound of displeasure was replaced with Carly’s gasps of lust.
Hollis fucked her hard from behind until the vestibule door was banging in its frame. Carly cried and cried as she was taken. Her feet slid around on the tiled floor like she was dancing. She was powerless against this man. His thrusts had her shaking and sliding, and his poor wife was holding onto the door as best she could.
&n
bsp; Sean wiped at his brow and looked at the inside of the door of his vestibule. There were two coat hooks set in it. Now he could picture Carly holding on for dear life right next to him, locked in that sweaty little sex box, her two pale hands gripping similar stainless steel hooks, supporting her weight, holding himself in place while their donor fucked her from behind.
Then it was happening again, Hollis growling and groaning, banging her hard, holding himself deep, withdrawing and plunging again. Each time he drove deep inside her, Carly cried out. Each time he thrust inside her, the door banged and rattled. Sean stroked over the front of his pants and could feel gleaming warm wet under the fabric. He ached to be the one who was doing this for his wife. He ached to be giving her this pleasure; he ached to be giving her a baby.
He listened again as the breaths came ragged and hard, long and panting, Hollis’s chest heaving against Carly’s back. After a long while, they started chuckling again. Long, funny, embarrassed sounds. Then he heard a zipper being drawn up, the jangle of a belt buckle. He watched Carly’s feet turn around so she was face-to-face with Hollis. He could see her knees bending as she straightened her skirt. She said to Hollis, “I think that one did it.”
Hollis chuckled. “You think that was the one?”
“That felt like a good one,” she laughed.
“Was it deep enough for you?”
Carly’s high lilting laugh. Then: “It was deep.”
They came closer together, Sean was sure they were embracing. They kissed. Wet mouth sounds now. Then Hollis’s deep voice again: “You’re going to be the best mother.”
Carly’s whisper: “I know.”
They were silent for a long time, just holding each other. Carly turned, the lock clicked, and the two of them shuffled out into the bathroom. Sean rose, feeling bad he’d hidden next to them while they did that, feeling embarrassed for them given the soft and dirty things they said to each other. Intimate things. But he had to be honest. He unlocked his own door, stepped out into the bathroom.
Carly and Hollis were washing their hands at the sink, both of them turned to see who was coming out of the vestibule, both of them raised their eyebrows seeing Sean. He came to the sink next to them. Hollis asked him, “You still okay?”
“Yes,” he said, just looking at his own reflection in the mirror as he scrubbed his hands with hot water.
Carly was watching him, shaking water off her hands before going to the auto-dry. Her eyes never left him.
As Hollis joined her, putting his hands under the almost silent hot air blast, Carly smiled then came to stand behind him at the sink. She looked over her shoulder at him, watching his eyes in the mirror. He smiled for her, a truthful smile, but pained just the same. A difficult smile that was hard to muster, but he did mean it.
She said, “I’m sorry if it’s hard. I know what you’re going through. Well—I don’t know, but you just keep letting me know. Don’t shut me out.”
“Okay,” he said, sniffed, then asked, “You did it twice?”
She grimaced, but held his gaze. “Yes,” she said.
He lowered his eyes now. She hugged him, stroked his chest. As Hollis dried his hands under the hot air beam, she let one hand drift down along his stomach over his shirttails. She knew what she would find—suspected what she would find—and she was right. She caressed the hump that pressed out the front of his pants.
She said, “Why don’t you come with me into the stall? Come in there with me and I can do that thing again with my mouth…”
He smiled, his heart flooding with warm love for her. He put his hand over top of hers, made her squeeze him through his pants. He said, “I’d like that. Let’s wait till we get home…”
13
Instead of taking an Ottobot back to the apartment, they decided they’d walk. The Old Ward was bustling with street traffic, but soon they were cutting across Regency Park where the crowds thinned. At one point walking its gravel path, Sean took Carly’s hand. They walked side-by-side and Hollis was on Carly’s right. She squeezed Sean’s hand, then with her right hand sought out Hollis’s. He looked down, then gripped her small delicate fingers between his.
While they walked and talked, Sean watched how small Carly’s hand looked in the big man’s. It made him contemplate the size and strength of the baby he would raise. It was exciting. He would be a good father and he would raise a strong son or daughter.
By the time they were crossing into their neighborhood, the upscale but completely modern and newly built J’nzhǎn Ward, Hollis was beginning to divulge tales of the war. No guts and glory stories, just behind-the-scenes of being in a brutal forward operating base in Europe. It was sad sometimes, but also heartwarming at other times, too. Carly took on a somber expression and chewed the inside of her cheek while Hollis spoke.
They were silent in the lobby of the Mandarin and continued to stay silent in the elevator ride to their apartment. Once past the front door, Carly trudged languidly to the living room sofa and fell on it. She moaned. Sean asked her what was wrong, and she said, “Nothing is wrong at all. I feel a-mazing. The big breakfast, a nice walk in the fresh air. The simple things… but they’re so awesome…”
And don’t forget your experience in the bathroom.
As if she knew it too, she drew her knees up and lay on her side, like she was keeping the seed in her belly. Hollis strolled in, hands in his pockets, eyes cast out and looking at their view of the city. He said, “What do you want to do now?”
Carly said, “I need a nap.”
Sean winced. There was something he needed, and now she’d forgotten. Though he lost his full raging erection somewhere in the park, it had never gone completely away. Just walking with his wife while she held another man’s hand had him excited for some reason.
Hollis agreed with Carly. “Yeah, that would be all right,” he said, and he sat down on the other end of the couch. Carly straightened her legs and Hollis took her ankles, then in a somehow territorial move, he eased both her loafers off and set them on the floor. He began to rub her feet.
Sean said, “I think I’m going to change into something comfortable.”
Both of them grunted some sort of affirmation that they’d heard him, but Carly closed her eyes and made a purring sound as their sperm donor rubbed her feet with his huge strong hands. Sean stood a moment longer, watching his wife’s toes flex under the black woolen tights she wore. And he couldn’t take it anymore, felt himself getting aroused again, returning to full hardness.
In the bedroom, he shod his casual wear and put on clothes for lounging around the house. Something stretchy, something baggy. Something that would hide his arousal. With a baggy sweatshirt and loose cotton lounging pants, he returned to the living room.
There was part of him fully prepared to see the two of them coupled together, pants pushed down to their knees, maybe him over top of her, doing her from behind like an animal, maybe Carly on her back, her knees up rubbing his hips while his bare ass rose up and down, his huge tool stabbing deep…
But they were napping. Both of them exhausted and sated. They’d fallen asleep while Hollis had rubbed her feet. His hands still cradled them.
Both of them breathed softly and Sean took a spot in the lounge chair opposite the couch and watched them. With their eyes closed, he handled himself over his pants, considered just taking it out and getting it over with. Considered heading down to the bathroom and doing it where there would be no chance he’d be caught—but he sure would like to look at the two of them while he did it…
In the end he did nothing. Fell asleep while watching them.
It was only a few hours that he napped, but when he awoke his wife and their donor were at it again…
It was late afternoon now, and the sun was descending from its highest point. Squares of afternoon light fell on the couch and lit up another torrid display.
Carly had woken, changed her direction on the couch and now she was at Hollis’s side. Hollis still sat with
his back against the V of the arm and the seat back, he had one arm curled around Carly. They kissed. Their mouths moved softly and slowly, suckling on each other’s lips. Wet sounds of smacking and soft groaning now too; the passion beginning to build between them.
Carly whispered in Hollis’s ear. He caressed her shoulder, his other hand coming to rest over her sweater, stroking on her tummy. He nodded, they pulled their faces back but said nothing. Carly did it again, easing forward, inching up his body a little so she could whisper in his ear again. Hollis nodded again, and they looked at each other’s eyes for a moment.
One more time… Carly used her elbows to get close to his ear, cupped her hand on his cheek and whispered to him. Hollis stroked her stomach.
Then the eye contact again, the two of them looking into each other, communicating something. Hollis’s thumb stroked her middle.
Carly asked him: “Can you go again?”
Hollis gave a slow and single nod.
They kissed, this time holding their lips together and rocking their heads. Their breaths soon came slow and heavy, long snorts as the passion renewed. Hollis’s hand rose up from her stomach and caressed her breasts over top of her sweater. Carly’s did the same, moving downward instead; starting on his hard stomach then squeezing his penis through his pants.
It wasn’t long before Carly’s legs were squirming, her thighs rubbing together, and she became so aroused she couldn’t contain it.
He’d never been more glad to be wearing loose pants. It hurt that she’d forgotten him, but he was still included. Still allowed to sit and be present while his baby was made. But he wondered how these things normally went. Was it always like this? Was the wife always insatiable? When donors visited, was it routinely a marathon of sex like horny bunnies? How many wives wanted it like this?
Now Carly was whispering in Hollis’s ear again, raising up on her knees. It pushed her rump up in the air, and Hollis’s hand draped over her buttock as she whispered to him. His long fingers traced down to find the hem of her skirt and he slowly lifted it. It was revealed to Sean it wasn’t really tights that Carly wore but long stockings held up with garters. He could see the creamy white flesh of her thigh, so pale against Hollis’s hand. The big man’s fingers pressed shallow divots into her softness.
