“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.
“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 m
e 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.
Trucking
Sam and Gwen still love each other after all these years, but sometimes long-term relationships need a few sparks. With their anniversary coming up, the lovers have very different ideas about how to celebrate. There’s more than a few surprises in store when the art of gift giving takes on a whole new meaning.
Rule number one: Keep the femme happy and life is good.
“No way. You just got home. Let someone else go.”
Gwen was taking my news a lot worse than I expected. Lately she seemed edgy, going off at the slightest provocation. But even when she was angry, I couldn’t resist her in a skimpy black waitress uniform pulled tight across her well-formed breasts. The little white apron hugged her narrow waist and the short skirt showed off her impossibly long legs. It took all my strength not to take her right then and there, but I knew from experience when to back off.
“It’s good money, babe. Just one more week and I promise I’ll be home longer.”
I worked like a dog, which meant I was hardly ever home, but I was a woman on a mission. I needed to get through the means even if it meant tons of overtime to make it to the end for enough funds to surprise my best girl with a gift she’d never forget.
“Tomorrow’s our anniversary.”
Gwen’s pout had the power to bring me to my knees even though I’d known her for most of my life. I pulled her womanly hips close and licked the cherry gloss right off her sensuous lips. “Hmm. You taste so good. Her body relaxed in my arms.
“Stay, then. Please, baby.”
I loved when she begged, but I had socked away almost enough for our dream vacation to Australia and New Zealand. We were in dire need of a second honeymoon and I was going all out, taking a month off and sparing no expense. I hoped it’d put the light back in Gwen’s eyes.
“I’d love to, but you know I gotta work.” I deepened my kiss and started unbuttoning the top of her uniform. My hormones perked up at the first glimpse of sheer black lace barely covering her porcelain skin. Her nipples hardened as I brushed her bra with the backs of my fingers.
“I can’t now. I have to leave for my shift.” Gwen took a step back.
“A few minutes.” I eased her bra up over her breasts. She held me off with her hands then pushed me away. It was my turn to pout.
“Can’t. You’re not the only one with a job, you know.” Gwen straightened her dress and smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles. “The diner’s a zoo now that Sylvia’s gone and Mary’s out on sick leave.”
“Aw, shit. I’ll be gone a week.” I didn’t start out as a trucker, but the pay and benefits were better than my last job as an auto mechanic. Trucking did have its perks, though. I enjoyed the scenery, the freedom, and, at times, the solitude, but the traveling wreaked havoc on my marriage.
I fetched my bomber jacket from the closet, pulled the printout of my route from a pocket, and handed it to her. “Here’s where I’ll be, give or take, depending on traffic and the size of the cargo we have to load.”
“Be careful.”
“I love you. Miss you, mucho.”
“I know. Me too.” Gwen kissed my cheek and called out, “Happy anniversary,” as she turned to leave.
I watched her pull the Jeep out of the driveway, shook off the ache in my heart, and headed to the dock. Once there, I rigged my truck, helped load her up, and in less than fifteen minutes, I completed the pre-trip inspection. As soon as I was on my way with nearly forty thousand pounds in my sixty-foot rig, the adrenaline rush kicked in. Religiously, I kissed my fingers and placed them on the picture of Gwen that I had plastered on the dash. I listened to the weather report and then turned up the volume on the local station to tune out the other truckers on the CB. Obviously, they were just as sex-crazed as I was, and I really didn’t need any reminders. It had been a while since Gwen and I did the nasty, and I was about to die from sexual frustration.
Not fifteen minutes into the trip the heavens opened up on the desolate highway. My windshield wipers were flapping, Shania Twain sang Forever and for Always in the background, and I thought of Gwen because she had a thing for the bodilic
ious country singer. Shit, I wanted Gwen in my arms.
We used to go at it like horn dogs most every night and even in the morning, but now I was hardly ever home. Her love was like medicine and when I skipped doses the side-effects sucked. I felt sick when I left. Every nerve in my body was shriveled up. My clit ached from neglect. How could I concentrate on driving when my thoughts were on my crotch?
I thought about going down on her. The cab grew hot even with the air on. I opened the window and my face sizzled when raindrops blew in. It felt better, but I still wanted my girl and pretending she was beside me was hardly a suitable substitute. I was well aware that all the fantasizing in the world didn’t take away the torment of this distance growing between us; I let myself daydream about touching her, kissing her, loving every inch. If only she were here. I’d rub my hands lightly over her breasts, tweak her nipples, and tease my way along her slightly rounded abdomen to her belly tattoo of the phoenix rising from the ashes. From there I’d take a quick trip down to the familiar folds that parted for my tongue as I lapped at her creamy center. A shot of electricity went straight through my pelvis at the thought of her screaming my name as she came.
“Damn it to hell! I missed the freaking exit.” I slammed my hands on the steering wheel and cursed when the next exit was twenty miles away for a turnaround. What would be the big deal if I bought the plane tickets and the other surprises next year? It was too late to head home, so I tried to grin and bear it.
Twenty more miles became forty to my first stop because of my wandering thoughts. I spotted the exit relieved because I needed a break. I pulled off the highway, weighed in, and took care of business at the rest stop. I reached for my cell phone to ring Gwen at the diner, but then figured she might be busy with the after-movie midnight rush. It was time I took a break, so I plopped down on the bed in the back, not even bothering to get under the blanket Gwen had neatly tucked into the corners. Still horny and thinking of her, I unzipped my jeans, jerked off hard, and exploded within seconds. Instead of feeling satisfied, though, I was more strung out.
Attractions of the Heart Page 18
