KUMQUAT DID YOU SAY?
By
Cheri Crystal
Vicki and Reggie long to start a family. Who said having a baby isn’t butch? Turkey basters, bearing a child, fruit, whatever it takes, Vic will do anything to please her woman.
Kumquat Did You Say? gives new meaning to the adage, “Be fruitful and multiply.”
KUMQUAT DID YOU SAY?
© 2013 By Cheri Crystal. All rights reserved.
THIS ELECTRONIC ORIGINAL SHORT STORY CONTAINS EROTIC CONTENT AND ADULT THEMES. READERS MUST BE OVER 18 TO PURCHASE.
PUBLISH DATE: December 2013, Second edition. First published in 2009 by Loveyoudivine and appeared in ATTRACTIONS OF THE HEART by CHERI CRYSTAL.
THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES, AND INCIDENTS ARE THE PRODUCT OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION OR ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, BUISINESS ESTABLISHMENTS, EVENTS, OR LOCALES IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.
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GRAPHIC DESIGN: CHERI CRYSTAL
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Reggie and I had been together for seven years, and were more in love than ever. We wanted to start a family. Each dreadfully long month dragged into the next while we tried to get pregnant. I followed my doctor’s advice to the letter, took prenatal vitamins, and even gave up cigarettes, alcohol, caffeine, NutraSweet and chocolate. It wasn’t easy, but I avoided Dunkin’ Donuts and Dunkachinos and tried to eat more fruits and vegetables. I was an ideal patient but I was still without child.
I’d read that having an orgasm increased the chance of conception, but, under the least romantic circumstances, that was easier said than done. The spontaneity of our sex life was kaput, but the microscopic swimmers from the sperm bank were expensive, and I would go to any lengths to please my girl. She knew I wore the pants in the family even though I agreed to bear our children. Who said giving birth wasn’t butch? Personally, I couldn’t think of anything tougher. It kind of scared the shit out of me.
At first, I felt like a living testimony that basal thermometers, temperature charts, and fucking on a schedule were the leading causes of Lesbian Bed Death. But I soon got over it. If one orgasm made those buggers swim up the Fallopian tubes faster, then three were better than one. Right?
Once I switched gears and focused on the sex rather than making a baby, I was coming all over the place, and praying for a miracle. I would climax before the insemination and then follow up the turkey baster with a double just to clinch it. That was fine by me and I quickly forgot about Lesbian Bed Death.
One morning my period still hadn’t made an appearance and I got out the circular saw to work on remodeling what was going to be the baby’s room. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Reggie in the doorway with a glass of milk and a homemade low fat raisin bran muffin. I cut the power to share the latest news.
“Reggie, I’m late.”
“Oh God, Vicki, lay down, or at least put down that thing.” She placed my breakfast on the workbench and grabbed my wrist.
“How is sawing wood going to affect whether I’m pregnant or not?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to find out. I don’t want you lifting anything heavier than a finger, got it?”
“Yes, dear.” I took her in my arms for a big hug. “You’re so cute when you boss me around, know that?”
“Mmm, remind me to do it more often then.” She kissed me in that sweet way she has, taking over my mouth with her thick, luscious lips and nibbling her way to my waiting tongue.
I pulled Reggie towards me by the seat of her capris and braced myself. My clit hardened.
“We may have to cancel our cruise if you’re pregnant,” she said, between juicy kisses.
“What and miss the Mediterranean? No way.”
“I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Let’s not get our hopes up, okay?” I unhooked her bra.
She put her arms over my shoulders and leaned her nose and forehead onto mine so that our eyelashes touched. “Let’s buy a pregnancy kit anyhow.”
“Later…” I proceeded to nibble on her earlobe and probe her ear with my tongue. Her goose bumps excited me. I moved my hands under her custom-made bra. The scars were still palpable but much smoother and beginning to fade. Not a day went by when I didn’t thank my lucky stars that Reggie was still with me. She had always dreamed of having children and when cancer treatments rendered her infertile, I stepped up to the plate to make her dream come true.
“Love me first, Reg.”
She pulled me closer and I melted into her. I had both hands tangled in the short, straight, dark hair that had finally reached the nape of her neck. Self-styled in a ragged multilayered cut, it suited her features and looked perfectly delectable on her. Heck, she looked great bald, but she wanted her hair back. When it finally started growing, we rejoiced.
“Um, no problem, Vic. Come inside.”
“Love to,” I chuckled.
“Oh, you and your dirty mind.” She backed away slightly in mock irritation and playfully slapped my arm. I grabbed her hand and took her in through the garage door that led to the kitchen.
Pulling her towards me, I looked into sensuous green tiger’s eyes. Her short hair diminished the size of her sharp nose. I couldn’t help but kiss its tip. She looked so tough after all she’d been through. I had to use all my resources not to ravish her on the spot.
Reggie reached under my shirt and gave my breasts a tweak. The voltage shot straight to my clit. It wouldn’t be long before I short-circuited even if she didn’t take me all the way. Clomid, the medicine the doc gave me to bring on ovulation, wicked PMS, and my period being late had all made me hornier than usual. I was swollen, especially down there, making me exceptionally aware of my needs and how all that swelling pressed against my clit.
“I’m bloated,” I complained, not used to having feminine curves, and I wasn’t sure I liked it either. I missed my thin, muscular body, but as I said, anything for my girl.
“You’re gorgeous, bloated or not. Besides, I love where the extra pounds have landed on you,” she purred, kissing my swollen tummy to emphasize her point. Moving back up, she pulled off my shirt and took a nipple into her mouth, biting down gently. I nearly collapsed. She pushed me up against the stove.
She unzipped my cut-offs and let them fall to the floor. The boxers were next. I kicked them away and leaned my naked body into hers.
Reg lifted me up off my feet and placed me on the table, a maneuver she managed to perfect while she steadfastly refused to let me lift anything for months. Her lips found my clitoris, engorged and begging for release. It was larger than usual, one of the few benefits from the hormones. There was no way I could hold off the orgasm much longer.
Reggie had other ideas.
“I have you naked, spread-eagled, and dripping wet for my viewing and tasting pleasure. Yum.” She gave me one of her evil grins between licks. “I intend to take my time and enjoy. Every. Delicious. Minute.”
“Please, Reg….”
She wasn’t sadistic. Her lips and tongue worked their magic. I was at the point of no return. I shuddered, bucked, and almost kicked her but she never lost contact. Her tongue slowed to draw out each contraction until the very last one left me satiated.
Reggie gently pushed her fingers into my depths, exploring as if for the first time. I sucked in my breath and held it while another climax slowly built up.
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br /> “Don’t come yet, Vic.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Oh…my…fucking…God!” I shivered and convulsed more powerfully than the first time, shaking the table on its already wobbly legs. When the fury subsided, I sat up and hugged my girl. I whispered into her hair.
“I love you.”
“Me too. Me too.”
“Now it’s your turn, my sweet,” I said, after we ended our kiss.
“Later. Let’s go to CVS and get the kit.”
“Sure?”
“I hope the baby has your blond hair and blue eyes.”
“Don’t jinx it, Reg.”
“I’m not superstitious. I just want her to look like you.”
“Poor kid, if she, or he, does. You know it could be a boy.”
“As long as it’s healthy.” She handed me my clothes. The heat of her hands drove me nuts.
“Better let me do that myself, if you want to get out of here today.”
By the time we got on the road, it was rush hour. The traffic made the trip to the pharmacy seem endless.
“Reg, ooohhh,” I cried out in pain. “I’m getting cramps.”
“You are? Oh, God. Don’t think about it. It’s probably the egg implanting or something.”
My eyes filled up with tears. Reggie took her hand off the wheel and ran her fingers lovingly along my thigh. A tear escaped and then another. I was not too butch to cry, at least not since I started the damn Clomid.
“Don’t cry, Vicki, honey. It might not mean anything.” She smoothed out my hair and I bit my lip to stifle another cry as a sharp knife ripped through my abdomen. The cramps were excruciating and worse than usual—much worse.
“Oh…God…I need a bathroom, quick,” I said, hardly above a whisper, gritting my teeth. My fists were tight by my side, and the muscles in my face ached.
“We’re almost there. Hold on, baby.” She drove the car into the nearest gas station.
The pain immobilized me.
“If I am pregnant then I’m losing this baby.”
Reggie cut the engine and went to my side of the car to help me out. A gush of liquid escaped from below as I stood up. I felt nauseated.
Reg had to hurry and get the key from the attendant, who took his sweet ass time handing it over. I cursed under my breath and gripped the door handle to steady myself through another wave of pain and nausea. I already knew it was over before we cleaned me up in the bathroom.
Reg bought me some pain relievers and a Coke to wash it down. She was unusually quiet and I nudged her arm. “I’m sorry, babe.”
“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault. I never should have fucked you.” She looked as miserable as I felt.
Tears trickled down her face and my heart hurt so bad I thought I would die.
“It had nothing to do with that and you know it.”
“But still—”
“But still, nothing. Come here.”
“We should call the doctor.”
“Okay,” I said, even though I was getting sick of doctors.
Two weeks and a few days later, I was ovulating again. I felt anything but optimistic, but at Reggie’s insistence, I went through with another insemination. Dr. Grant made us promise to enjoy ourselves on our trip. Still, Reggie had to pack for both of us. I was totally useless and didn’t feel much like going anywhere, but I put on a brave smile for her sake and did as I was told.
It was our first Olivia cruise. What a pleasant surprise to be surrounded by hundreds of lesbians for ten days. The feeling of all that estrogen was awesome. It was a wet dream come true. All the wine, women, and song had Reggie and me fucking like rabbits. The cruise was like a second honeymoon and we took advantage of our cabin and took long strolls hand in hand on the deck before dinner.
The sun looked decidedly more vibrant from out at sea. Whether it was because of the reflection of the water or the expanse of the sky, I was convinced that the rainbow of colors cast upon Reggie’s radiant brown hair added romance and the promise of wonderful things to come. I did try to watch what I ate and drank, since there was always a chance the insemination could work again, but I let myself have fun and forgot about our quest.
On one especially magnificent night, we rested against the railing on the sport deck. Reggie looked breathtaking with the sun setting behind her. “It’s almost dinnertime,” she said. I ran my fingers through her hair and traced my finger along her face from her cheekbone downward towards her chin.
“You’re all I want for dinner.” I planted a leisurely kiss upon her lips and then I led her to an alcove underneath the overhang of the upper deck.
“I thought I was breakfast and lunch?” She laughed.
“Don’t forget snacks. I’m ravenous.”
“Normally, I’d say let’s go back to our room, but tonight’s the last night and we’re all dressed up.”
“We can be naked again in no time.” I sounded more than a little hopeful.
“Yeah, true, but you look so handsome in your tux. I want to show you off.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.” A gentle breeze brought her sweet scent my way; I breathed deeply. “And you look lovely in a tight top, even without the padded bra.” I outlined her torso from under her armpits, past her slender waist to her hips, to her chest. “Mmm, and so hot in that leather mini-skirt.” Reg’s heart fluttered beneath my hands. She sighed, and I pushed her up against the wall of the ship. Hungrily, I took what was mine and devoured her lips and face. A part of my brain registered the sun setting flanked in a kaleidoscope of colors, lovers strolling on deck, but my body had a hidden agenda of its own.
I ate off her lipstick and then buried my nose in her hair while cupping her butt with both hands and squeezing the familiar flesh that lie beneath fragrant leather now apparent as body heat released the scent. It wouldn’t suffice to share what was mine even with leather. I fiercely lifted her skirt, worked my way into her silk panties, and rejoiced in her passion that soaked my eager fingers.
Reggie gasped when my fingers found her slit and massaged through glistening folds. I slipped two fingers inside her pussy and pumped her slowly at first.
“Vic, ohVic.” Reg threw her head back and pushed her body into the metal abyss. “I’m, oh, I’m com—ahhhh.”
“Not yet.” She was so open, we were out on deck, but that didn’t stop me from fucking her with four fingers as I played a familiar tune with my thumb on her clit.
I may have bit her neck; she may have messed my hair; we may have creased my tux, but all I know was that the moment she started to come, was the moment that we became the only two people on board, in the middle of the vast ocean, with only the hum of the ship, faint sounds of music from another deck, and the scent of leather, sea, and sex. My hands were between her legs gripping her pussy. She held on to me for dear life as I did to her.
Reg came hard and I held her up with my knee as her legs wobbled slightly but I wasn’t taking any chances. “I love you more than life itself.”
“Mmmm, me too.”
I helped Reggie fix her panties and skirt. She planted a juicy kiss on my lips and she giggled when she realized I had her lipstick all over my face.
“Here, let me help you.” She tried but I kept putting her fingers into my mouth. “You’re not being very cooperative, but after that appetizer, I’ll let you slide.”
“Why thank you ma’am. Shall we stroll over to the dining room now?” I offered her my bent elbow.
Once again, the ship photographer took our picture. I don’t remember the meal but I know that everything tasted wonderful and each mouthful was a treat second only to the woman who shared my life. A woman who would make the best mommy if she nurtured our kid even half as well as she took care of me. I held Reggie’s hand across the table and invited her to take an empty seat beside me for dessert. She immediately complied.
Our waiter, Leroy, recited the dessert choices in his singsong voice thick with a Jamaican accent. As usual,
for a reason I had yet to figure out, he turned to me first.
“The turtle cake or the homemade pecan pie? Both excellent choices. We can put a scoop of ice cream on it for you.”
It sounded delicious. I could feel myself weakening but when Reggie ran her hand along my thigh, my resolve returned. I had a better dessert waiting for me back at the cabin.
“No thanks. I’m sure it’s wonderful, but I’ll have the fresh fruit.” Leroy looked duly disappointed. To Reggie, I added, only slightly above a whisper, “The only thing I feel like eating right now is you.” I winked at her.
“Shhh, behave.” She giggled despite herself.
When it was Reggie’s turn to decide on a dessert, I added, “And get my woman a kumquat with her key lime pie, won’t you, Leroy?” Our tablemates laughed themselves silly.
“Kum-quat did you say?” Reggie added, and we roared.
“Sure thing. Be right back with your order.” Leroy had a tough time keeping a straight face.
Ten minutes later Leroy walked over to the table holding a large tray as if it was a tiny plate. He placed it on the tray holder and I noticed there were at least six kumquats on the platter.
I got the chills remembering the sexcapades on deck and in the wee hours of the morning. Her cries as I entered her with practiced fingers. Her copious juices dripping from my hand and wrist. My kumquat was delectable, and the best part was tasting her familiar sweetness.
“Look how many kumquats on the plate. One for each time you came today so far.” I laughed smugly taking all the credit.
“Shhh, they’ll hear you.”
“So?” I kissed her ear.
Before taking his leave, our attentive waiter said, “Be fruitful and multiply.” He then put his hand over his mouth because of what he thought was a faux pas and added, “Sorry, man.”
“No need for apology,” I said.
“From your mouth to God’s ears.” Reggie added.
She plopped a kumquat into my mouth and the face I made had Reggie rolling on the floor.
Nine months later, we rejoiced when I gave birth to an eight pound, three ounce baby girl with blond hair and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. All it took was a prophetic Jamaican waiter, lots of hot sex, and a kumquat.
Kumquat Did You Say? Page 1
