Lean On Me (Take My Hand)

by Nicola Haken

  “You know, Cindy’s going to need a few months off when my belly gets bigger. She might squash the baby,” I teased. “And we know how much you worry about squashing the baby.” Jared’s eyes widened in mock offence, and I giggled the second I saw the playful glint dancing around his green irises because I knew what was coming.

  He stood up and started tugging his pants down as he walked backwards towards the ottoman at the foot of my bed. That’s where Cindy lives. Opening the chest, he reached blindly for Cindy, never taking his mischievous eyes off me. Then, he set the foam wedge in place on the mattress and walked purposely towards me, his hard cock bobbing along with the motion of his legs. When he reached me, he flexed his fingers and stretched his arms in my direction, ready to scoop me up.

  “Skirt,” he said firmly, nodding towards the autumn-brown pencil skirt I had on today. Skirt-wise, I only wear pencils – they keep my disobedient legs together and stop my knees falling apart in an unladylike fashion. “Lift yourself up,” he instructed, and I did. Gripping the armrests on either side of my chair, I hoisted myself up enough so he could pull my skirt from underneath me – knickers too. “Beautiful,” he murmured, biting his lip as he took in my naked body.

  Before I could breathe another word I was in Jared’s arms, being carried towards the bed. He laid me down onto my back, parted my legs and knelt between them before running his hand down the centre of my body. Then he paused for a few seconds, falling back on his heels and just… staring at me – drinking in the sight of me. I felt all kinds of beautiful. I felt wanted -desirable…sexy.

  My hands reached out and I moulded my fingers around his firm biceps, taking care to apply only gentle pressure to the tender flesh that was still mottled with fading bruises from his accident. Biting down on my lip to keep myself from moaning, I traced the lines of the muscles down his chest and onto his happy trail of fine brown hair that led to my destination.

  “Fuck, yes…” he choked out, tossing his head back. I stroked him slowly with one hand – purposely tantalising him. My other hand reached around, caressing the skin of his firm arse cheek – the one that sported my flower. Even though I went apeshit at the time, I secretly love that he was crazy enough to get that for me. It’s typical Jared – fun, unpredictable… and adorably immature.

  After tracing the swollen veins in his cock from base to tip, I circled the rim with the edge of my finger and his whole body jerked in response. “Harder, Rachel. Faster,” he begged impatiently. So, grinning wickedly, I wrapped my fingers around his solid length and fisted him until I knew he was about to lose it.

  “Not yet,” I teased with a click of my tongue. “Greedy,” I scolded. “It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of you to finish before your lady now, would it?”

  “You’re right,” he agreed, bending down to kiss the slight swell below my stomach. “How very ungallant of me.” A small giggle tickled my throat but feeling him so close to where I needed him, where I was throbbing…aching for him, I instinctively took control.

  Weaving my hands into his messy, golden hair I gently persuaded his head downwards. He smiled up at me before his face disappeared between my legs and I let out a loud sigh as my quivering body melted under the velvet swirls of his hot, moist tongue.

  “You taste sweeter,” Jared said, coming up for air and licking his lips. “Pregnant pussy is my new favourite type of pussy,” he teased before assaulting me again with his mouth.

  “Holy shit, Jared,” I groaned, my voice a desperate, quivering drawl. “Higher…” I pleaded, tugging on his hair. His tongue swept high for just a second, before he flicked it over my throbbing clit just once, and then pulled away.

  “Now who’s being greedy?”

  Bastard…

  “Let’s stop playing around, saffy. I want to fuck you,” he said in the sexiest, throatiest voice I’ve ever heard him use. “I want to fuck you until you collapse onto that wedge screaming my fucking name.”

  In that moment I was pretty sure just the warmth of his breath on my goosebump-covered skin would have me screaming his name.

  I literally trembled when he hooked one arm behind my neck and one around my waist, slowly lifting and turning me onto my front with Cindy propped under my belly.

  I waited impatiently, my body quivering in anticipation while he knelt behind me and stared. He always does that. It’s complete torture yet an overwhelming turn on knowing he enjoys looking at me so much.

  “I’ll never get tired of seeing you like this,” he said, smoothing his hands over my bare arse cheeks. I almost buckled from his touch. “You’re so hot, Rach,” he added, sliding his cock against my damp folds and spreading the wetness of my arousal over his tip. Then, without a hint of gentleness, he slammed into me before quickly pulling back and stilling inside me. “Wait… I won’t, you know… hurt the baby or anything?”

  Jared often draws a fine line between innocence and stupidity – and it’s bloody adorable.

  “Babe, you’re not that big,” I teased. “Now just fuck me already.”

  “I’m going to pretend that’s not the reason,” he shot back, and then he started moving again. In and out… taking it to the very edge – torturing me; making me think he was going to withdraw completely before pounding into me again and again.

  He released one of the hands he had gripping my hips, allowing the wedge, and my forearms to take most of my weight. Then he snaked his arm around my thigh until his hand reached my core. He began by encircling his cock with his finger and thumb, feeling himself enter me and groaning each time he did. Then he unwrapped them, letting his fingers wander along the moist crevice until they found the small bud that was pulsating with desperation.

  “God, yes,” I whimpered. The pleasure radiating from my centre was relentless and intense. Jared continued to drive into me, his speed increasing in time with his fingers. My orgasm was building and the desperate desire to feel it explode was almost unbearable.

  “You nearly there, baby?” Jared asked, his voice faltering as he folded himself over me so his stomach was flush with my back. “Because fuck, Rach… I’m so nearly fucking there.”

  “Yes,” I managed to choke out through my ragged breathing. “Yes, I’m…” As if my words were spurring him on he intensified the speed of his hips and the pressure of his fingers. “Yes! Oh… Jar…I’m almost…”

  “Come on, saffy!” he all but ordered. “This is for you,” he added firmly, pounding me so hard I felt the hard ridge of his pelvis crash into the soft flesh of my bum cheeks with every thrust. “All for you,” he continued. “Every. Last. Drop.”

  His words undid me. I’d been teetering on the edge for the last minute but hearing him say such naughty things to me, then feeling his cock throb inside me as it juddered from his release, sent me flying into the mind-blowing orgasm my body had been craving.

  “I love being able to come inside you,” he said – his voice quiet, fulfilled as he rested his cheek on my spine. “Being able to feel you – nothing separating us. Pregnant sex is my new favourite kind of sex.”

  “You know I’m not gonna be pregnant forever right? And then you’ll have to go back to normal tits, regular flavoured pussy and boring old, condom-wearing sex. Jesus, Jaz, how on earth will you cope?” I mocked, giggling to myself. Giving my waist a slight squeeze, he eased himself out of me, climbed to his knees and supported my weight while he tossed Cindy to the floor.

  He went on to lie on his side, propping himself up on one elbow. I rolled over so I was facing him, clamped my hands together in the praying position and tucked them under my cheek.

  “Guess I’ll just have to knock you up again,” he finally replied. Taking my hand from under my face and reaching behind me, I grabbed a pillow and wacked him right across the face with it. Then, he grabbed my wrist and held it above my head before bringing his face so close to mine our noses brushed together. “I fucking love you, Rachel. You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he said resolutely – staring at me
intensely before crashing his lips into mine.

  Yes I do… I thought, but couldn’t say aloud because my tongue was tangled with Jared’s. Because I feel it too.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jared

  “Do you need me to come in with you?” I asked Rachel as she made her way to the bathroom with her sample bottle tucked between her legs.

  “Are you fucking with me?” she asked, clearly amused.

  “What? I thought you might need some help.” What was wrong with that?

  “Jared I’ve been pissing on my own since I was three years old. I’m pretty sure I’ve got this.”

  “Well I just thought… that bottle’s tiny. It’s different than when us guys have to do it. We can, you know… see where we’re aiming.”

  “I know where I piss from,” she said in a mocking tone, biting her lip ring to keep from laughing.

  “Fine,” I concurred, raising my palms. “But don’t blame me when you get piss all over your hands.”

  “You’re adorable when you’re stupid.”

  “Um, thanks. But you really don’t need to try and buy my love with flattery.” Personally, I didn’t think offering to help out my pregnant girlfriend was stupid. “Now go take a whizz or we’re going to be late.”

  Laughing, she disappeared into the bathroom, and I headed to the kitchen to grab some bottled water from the fridge. Apparently she needed a full bladder for her scan, so I plucked out three bottles and stuffed them into her handbag which was already overflowing with crap. We were running out of time so she would have to drink them on the way to refill whatever she was busy eliminating in the bathroom.

  **********

  Babies. They were everywhere. Every single wall had some kind of poster bearing a baby. Every desk, table, and flat surface that wasn’t a floor, had an array of leaflets sporting even more babies. Then, a woman with a belly the size of a space-hopper entered the room with a double buggy, and not only could I see babies everywhere – I could hear them too.

  Surely they’re not hers too, I found myself thinking as I watched her rummage through her handbag until she found two bottles of juice. One was three-ish, maybe four. Hell it could’ve been twelve, what the fuck do I know about kids? But the other couldn’t have been older than twelve months, yet here she was looking like if you prodded her stomach she would explode. How could she have babies so close together? Why would she have babies so close together? She’s insane, I decided.

  Christ those kids were noisy – like the kind of noisy that makes your ears buzz. At one point the youngest one screamed so loudly I actually dabbed my ear with my finger to check if my eardrums were bleeding. But then the mum passed them the juice bottles she found in her bag and I swear that shit shut them up faster than if I’d darted them with tranquilisers.

  Juice = crack for babies. I started making a mental ‘to do’ list yesterday. Must buy juice. Shit loads of the stuff. When I’d finished adding to my silent list, I turned to Rachel and noticed she was fidgeting with the hem of her jumper.

  “Nervous?” I asked her, taking one of her twitchy hands and squeezing it gently.

  “Terrified,” she barely whispered. “You?”

  I took a moment to think about it.

  “No,” I answered honestly. “Actually I think I’m excited. I can’t wait to see our baby.”

  “But what if…” I cut her off because I knew what she was going to say.

  “Everything will be fine, saffy,” I assured, gazing directly into her worried eyes. “That baby has got the best mother taking care of it. Of course he’s going to be fine.” She nodded, but I could tell by the twinkle of a tear teetering in the corner of her left eye, that she didn’t quite believe me.

  “Rachel Mason?” A woman’s voice called. We jerked our heads around in unison and saw a woman in white scrubs smiling over at us with a brown file clutched to her chest. Rachel’s notes, I assumed. I stood up and walked behind Rachel, taking hold of her handles before pushing her forward. “Follow me.”

  We followed the woman out of the waiting room, down a short corridor and into a room with an examining bed that had a curtain around it, what I assumed was an ultrasound machine and a desk with a computer on it.

  “Do you have a full bladder?” the sonographer, who had more wrinkles on her face than a pug, asked Rachel.

  “So full I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” was Rachel’s reply. She’d been whining all the way here about needing the loo so desperately she was sure her kidneys would explode.

  “I’m sorry,” the sonographer, who was called Diane according to her I.D. badge, said with a soft laugh. “This won’t take long. Do you need me to get someone in to help you up onto the bed?”

  “No,” I interrupted. “I’ve got her.” I didn’t want a stranger manhandling my girl. With that, I scooped Rachel up as I always do, with one arm anchored under her thighs and one around her back. She gripped onto my neck as I lifted her, then I placed her down on the hard couch and kept my hand behind her back until she was lying flat.

  The sonographer went over to the computer and tapped the keys a few times. Then she wrote something down in the brown file she was carrying earlier, before coming towards us, drawing the flimsy curtain and perching herself on a swivel stood next to Rachel.

  “So, you’ve been sent for a dating scan. Shall we get started?” she asked Rachel in a sickly sweet voice. Rachel nodded, nerves obstructing her throat I suspected, so I took hold of her hand and squeezed. “Can you just pull your pants down a little?” Rachel knew they would ask her this, so she opted for black leggings today – easier for her to roll down without needing to lift herself. “Okay, this might be a little cold,” the sonographer added as she grabbed a white bottle of gel. “I’m just going to check everything over first, and then I’ll turn the screen to you.”

  After squeezing a hefty dollop of the clear gel onto the lower half of Rachel’s belly, she picked up a T-shaped scanning thingy (how am I supposed to know what it’s called?) and started running it across the exposed flesh. She looked intently at the screen, pausing every few seconds to tap a couple of keys on the keyboard. She squinted a couple of times too and I started tapping my foot impatiently, desperate to see whatever she was seeing. I looked at Rachel and she was staring at the tiled ceiling, chewing her lip ring like she always does when she’s nervous.

  “I’m just going to call the doctor in to double check something,” the sonographer announced with another smile.

  “What is it?” Rachel asked - her voice flustered. I squeezed her hand tighter. “What’s wrong?”

  “Don’t worry,” she assured. “I just need to check something.” Rachel nodded, but the second we were alone in the room she started to panic.

  “Something’s wrong,” she rushed out.

  “You don’t know that, baby. She said not to worry.”

  “Of course she would say that. She doesn’t want me to panic. But why else would she need a second opinion? And a doctor’s opinion at that? This is all my fault. I smoked too much before I found out I was pregnant. I probably drank too much too. What if I’ve damaged thi-”

  “Rachel, stop,” I scolded, cupping her face and forcing her to look at me. “Our baby is fine. Do you hear me?” Please God let it be fine… “With you for a mother, he or she isn’t going to be anything but stubborn – too stubborn to give up before they’ve even began.”

  “God I hope you’re right,” she said, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. Before I could reply the sonographer re-entered the room, followed by a doctor who looked younger than me.

  “I’m Doctor Jameson,” he greeted with a nod of his head. He took up position on the sonographer’s stool and got straight to business. Just like before he too stared at the screen, tapped a few buttons and moved the T-shaped thingy around Rachel’s belly. I didn’t take my eyes off Rachel, even though she had hers eyes squeezed shut. A giant ball of nerves started rising from my stomach, making their way up to m
y throat and suffocating me.

  After what seemed like fifteen hours, Doctor Jameson popped the T-shaped thingy back in its holder.

  “Is it okay?” I asked. “The baby. Is everything okay?”

  Please… it has to be okay…

  Rachel tentatively opened her eyes and chose to look at me rather than the doctor while she waited for his answer.

  “Your…babies…are doing just fine.”

  “Thank G-”

  Wait…

  “What?”

  Babies?

  “Babies?”

  “You’re expecting twins,” he announced with an amused smile on his face, no doubt due to my reaction to the news.

  “Twins?” Rachel repeated. “Two? We’re having… two?”

  “Yes,” the doctor concurred, still smiling. “And my calculations here would suggest that you are thirteen weeks into your pregnancy.”

  Thirteen?

  Wow, we didn’t waste much time, huh?

  “And they’re both okay? You’re sure? Because I only recently found out so I wasn’t taking folic acid or watching what I ate or drank. And I smoked too. Are you sure everything looks okay? Because really, I’d rather you just tell me,” Rachel bombarded him.

  “Miss Mason,” he breathed with a reassuring smile. “It’s my job to be honest with you. I assure you, everything looks as it should. You will have an anomaly scan at twenty weeks which be a lot more thorough, because the babies will be bigger. We go into a lot more detail then. We will check babies’ internal organs, size, position etc. And if you want to know, we should also be able to tell you your babies’ sex.”

  “I don’t want to know,” I said at the exact same time Rachel piped up…

  “I can’t wait to know!”

  “You want to know?” I asked her.

  “You don’t want to know?” she retorted.

  “I thought it’d be a nice surprise,” I shrugged, feeling a little bit like she’d just pissed on me. If Rachel wants to find out, we will find out. It’s a chick thing – they always get their own way. They’re either too cute to say ‘no’ to, or it’s not worth the earache.