This presented a problem, very much like the one we'd had back in Arizona. Some people knew me as a single guy and some people knew me as a married guy with a kid. If anybody at work found out I was "married" and had a child, it could cause questions. My background investigation didn't show any such thing. Nor did my CPO application.
So I decided to climb farther out on that legal limb. I did some research about getting married in Kansas. Only one of the participants had to be there in person to apply for a license. Both had to sign a worksheet, but no blood test was required. Basically, once you showed them your identification, they took everything you said at face value.
Three days later I had a marriage license that said Jennifer Ann Jenkins could marry Robert Jackson Jenkins. We didn't even have to go through a wedding ceremony. The law allows for two people to "become married through their own religious tradition," whatever that entails. Ours entailed staring into each other's eyes while I said, "Do you want to marry me?" and her responding, "This is the most ridiculous thing I ever heard of." I said, "Since you didn't run screaming from the room, I now pronounce us husband and wife."
I don't think it sank in that this whole cockamamie thing would work until I took the papers to work and got her listed in my official file as my wife. and Cammi listed as my child.
After that, the only risk we faced was what would happen five years hence, when my security clearance had to be updated. I wasn't too worried. It was possible that somebody might notice that the woman who had been interviewed as my mother, was now my wife. Then again, I'm told that all they do for an update is check criminal histories since the last clearance was granted. If there's nothing there, they figure you're still good to go. I hope so.
I have no idea, of course, what the reader does for a living, but it's fairly safe to say that, whatever it is, you weren't doing it one day, and you started doing it the next. If you stuck with it, you finally got to a place where your own self-image altered to the point that it just included your job as part of who you are. It was a little like that with Jennifer and me. Two years after we 'got married' we just felt … married. I could still remember being her son if I thought about it, but for the most part, she was just my lover and mate, my wife and the mother of my little girl. She told me it was a little more difficult than that for her, but that she thought about our original familial relationship less and less as time went on.
When Camilla was two, I asked Jennifer to go off the pill.
She lay there, looking into my eyes.
"You're kidding."
"You said you wanted grandkids. Plural," I said. "I get it that Cammi isn't a grandchild, but you're glad you had her, right?"
"Of course."
"So let's have another one."
"You want to get me pregnant again," she said, her voice kind of flat.
"Desperately," I said.
"You're pushing your luck, buster," she said.
"I'm used to it," I said. "I'm barely out of my teens, in the grand scheme of things. I've been taking risks for a long time. But look where it got me! I'm crazy happy. With risk, comes reward!"
"Don't you think I'm getting a little long in the tooth to be popping out another baby?"
I blinked.
"No," I said, after thinking. "You're healthy as a horse and when he or she is thirty, you'll only be in your early sixties. You might even still get to have some actual grandchildren."
"You don't play fair," she said.
I climbed on her. She resisted, but not too much, letting me wiggle my way between her legs. Eventually she reached to put me in her.
"You're a horrible, beastly man, Bob Jenkins," she said, as I slid in deep. "You want to breed me again."
"I do," I said. "So will you do it?"
"Go off the pill?"
"Yes."
"I can't," she said, her hips beginning to move.
"Don't be that way," I cajoled.
She pushed me off of her. I thought she was unhappy until she started tugging and moving me around. She wouldn't tell me what she was trying to do. She just poked and prodded me into the position she wanted me in. I ended up sitting upright, leaning against the headboard, with her on my lap. facing me. She bent her knees and reached to get me inside her again. Then she told me to bend my knees, which put her in a saddle of sorts, with her feet pointing at the end of the bed.
"I read about this position in a magazine," she said.
I felt her kegels go to work on me.
"I'm basically helpless, if you want to cum in me. I can't get off."
She rubbed her breasts against my chest.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"I can't go off the pill," she said, sounding sad.
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because I already did, two months ago."
"What?"
"I'm probably ovulating today," she said, sounding sad. "And here I am, stuck with your nasty old penis in me, probably about to spurt. If you do, I'll probably get pregnant again."
Her kegels were in top form. It felt like what I imagined a calf's mouth felt like on its mother's teat.
"The last time you did that, you did get pregnant," I panted.
"Did what?" she asked, innocently. "I'm not doing anything."
Her muscles kept going.
"It's fine," I said. "You don't need to worry. I'd never do something so naughty as to get you pregnant. You're safe with me."
"I am?" she said, in a little girl voice.
Her loins were all grown up, though.
"I won't cum in you," I panted.
It was time.
"You won't?"
"Nooooo," I gasped as I jetted thick spunk into her fertile belly.
"Okay," she said, happily. "In that case, I'll let you do this again."
She did, too. I was almost too tired to go back to work.
******
This one will be our last. I don't want to risk her health by asking her to have another baby after forty.
Instead, I'll raise our two as best as I can … as normally as I can … so they can give my wife her grandchildren before she's too old to enjoy them.
And I get to live with and love a drop-dead gorgeous model as I do it.
The End
A Model Mother Page 11
