Episiotomy - M
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Episiotomy - M
"Your wife is on the phone." He picked up the phone.
"Carolyn? How did the appointment go?" Her first post-delivery checkup had been scheduled for this day.
"Great. Don't shop for take-out tonight." Well, how great could a checkup be? It could find problems, but 'no problems,' while good news, was hardly grounds for celebration. On the other hand, Carolyn being ready to leave the twins long enough to go to dinner was grounds for celebration.
"You're ready to go out? Are you going to keep the sitter?"
"Not quite. Love you." And she hung up. He'd told Carolyn once that long conversations with one's wife weren't good executive behavior. She took brevity to an extreme, though. Anyway, he'd not pick up any food on the way home, which would bring him home maybe 20 minutes earlier. Now, it was time to go back to work.
At home, he got his trench coat into the living-room closet and his suit coat and tie into the bedroom closet without hearing any crying. When he got to the twins' room, Carolyn was feeding John. She looked unfrazzled, but the babysitter was gone. Paul, in his crib, wasn't crying, but he was wet. He changed him and put him back. When Carolyn was finished with John, she wandered out of the room. He burped John and then changed him.
By this time, appetizing odors were competing with the diaper smell. He held John until Carolyn called him to dinner. She'd prepared a feast, and they both -- for a wonder -- got to eat it without getting up.
"This is delicious." Then, he felt guilty for implicitly putting one more demand on her overflowing stack of demands. "You shouldn't have done it, of course, but I can appreciate your putting me back on the list of male Pierces you feed."
"At least you say that it is good instead of crying when you don't get it." She was grinning. Then John cried. He went to see the problem. It was partly a wet diaper and partly that he'd had no attention for -- maybe -- 45 minutes. Seeing John getting the attention, Paul cried too. That brought Carolyn in.
"Let's see how long I can keep them awake," he suggested when they were both back in their cribs. He was convinced that they had both complained not of the wet diapers but of lying on their backs with nothing to do but watch a mobile. It wouldn't have satisfied him for long, anyway.
"You think they'll sleep tonight?" Well, no. Not the whole night. They wouldn't get that lucky for weeks.
"Not all night, but we can use what they do." And, for that matter, he'd enjoy their company, too. They weren't quite up to manipulating their own rattles, yet. So he shook one for John. He moved his finger over Paul, who felt those sensations, but hadn't figured them out yet.
He switched after a while, and they did stay awake longer than they were used to. When Paul finally dropped off, he went out and washed dishes. The next cry was a hungry cry. Carolyn immediately answered it. He finished up in the kitchen before going in. Carolyn was feeding Paul.
"He's nearly done," she said. He changed John, getting the diaper off, but not the new one on, before he woke totally. They switched babies, and he burped and changed Paul. Having had an exciting day, Paul went right to sleep when he laid him in the crib. He stayed there, sitting on the changing table -- once Caroln's desk, until John was satisfied. Then he burped him. John, too, fell asleep. Carolyn had taken her bathroom time while he was dealing with John, and he took his immediately after. When he got to the bedroom, Carolyn was in bed and the bedside lamp was the only light.
"Turn the lamp off, will you?" she asked when he was in bed, too. Then: "Keep lying like that." Generally, they slept on their left sides with him holding her. Now, he was on his right side. She curled into his back. He was acutely aware of her melons pressed into his back. Carolyn didn't know what she did to him.
All the sex they'd had during her pregnancy, her never bleeding and, therefore, always available, had come to an abrupt end. Well, that was fair, and he'd known it was coming. Sex would hurt her, and he didn't want to hurt her, had never wanted to hurt her, even before she was the mother of his children. On the other hand, she didn't seem conscious of how arousing she could be. The nursing was fair, she'd persuaded him easily that it was best for the twins -- really, best for the single child that they expected at that time. And, actually, she almost always used the nursing bra. The amount he saw was his own fault, and he had to admit that some of it was simply his pleasure in seeing -- even when he couldn't touch -- her melons. He teased himself, and his arousal was his own fault. Lying like this, though, was even more arousing. She was teasing him, and that was her fault. Even worse, she started talking about sex.
"You know, I asked Dr. Gabel about sex -- about whether we could, at least, bring each other off. He explained that he'd given me an episiotomy -- he'd cut me so that the boys would have a wider pathway to come out. Then he sewed me up." Well, that was no longer a turn-on. He wasn't sure that the horror of hearing this description of her snatch being cut open and sewed up wasn't worse than a mere arousal.
"So, he said, I'm held together by stitches down there. If I were to have an orgasm, that might pull out those stitches and cause all sorts of trouble. So, the way I see it, you shouldn't even touch me that way." And, the way he saw it, was that -- since they'd always known he couldn't have her -- they shouldn't tease themselves, shouldn't tease him, with the subject at all.
"Here. Hold these." She shoved something which felt like tissues into his left hand.
"Well, maybe so." What was maybe so, his holding the tissues? "But you didn't have any operation." She'd gone through pain. Did that mean that she deserved to put him through pain? Did she know what she'd done to him? Apparently so, now she was stroking down his belly towards his dick.
"There shouldn't be any problem with you." When she reached his dick, it regained all the hardness it had lost when she described her operation. She was wiggling behind him but all his attention was on what her fingers were doing in front of him. She was stroking his dick quite lightly. He was getting harder and harder. This time, he was grateful for how she intensified his arousal. This time he believed she would bring him over. "Lift your leg," she said. Considering what she was doing to him, he'd oben any order of hers. When he obeyed this last command, she clasped his balls. He could lower his leg without crushing them, and he did.
She paused briefly to move the covers off his front. His arousal barely diminished before her hand was back on his dick. She was the kindest wife in the entire world, and he was about to erupt. At that point, he remembered that he had tissues in his left hand -- presumably to catch the eruption. She was much more imaginative in bringing him off than he was when he did it himself. She stroked along the length, but she also played with the most sensitive part on the bottom below the head.
"Carolyn," he said when he was on the edge. He put the balled tissues right on the tip when he felt his eruption boil up the length of his dick. Then he came and came while she kept holding him.
"Get it all?" she asked when she let go.
"I think so." He dropped the tissues into the waste basket on his side. He took two deep breaths while
he tried to figure out how to express his love and gratitude. "You, my love, are an incredibly sexy..." He
didn't get any further when John demanded attention. He got up to deal with him, hoping to get there
before Paul echoed him. The best wife in the world deserved a little respite from being a mother.
The End Episiotomy - M Uther Pendragon email@example.com 2011/05/12 These same events from Carolyn's perspective, can be read in: Carolyn's Experience The first adventures of Bill with Carolyn: "Get a Room - M" The index to almost all my stories is: Index to Uther Pendragon's website