Let's Make A Baby
Warning! The following work of fiction contains sexual activities between consenting adults. You must be at least 18 years old to read it.
The temperature finally broke after two weeks of sweltering Indian summer. He went to bed earlier than usual. Without him, their small house was quiet. As the evening light faded, she watched something on TV, but she couldn't concentrate, so she straightened up a little and went to join him in bed.
When she opened the bedroom door, she was greeted by the sparkle of candles, dozens of them around the room.
He stood near the bed, and he was naked. "What do you think, honey?" he said. "Let's make a baby."
She knew it was coming eventually, but he still managed to surprise her. They were sitting together on a bench, looking out over the sparkling lake. Geese swam by, and blackbirds flapped in the reeds. The crowd streamed along the trail around the lake: girls zipping on skates, strollers pushed by moms, joggers bouncing along. He was quiet, but that was a side of him she didn't mind. They sat silently, their fingers entwined.
Then, out of the blue, he got down on one knee. He placed the diamond ring over her finger and looked up into her eyes.
"Will you marry me?"
She was stunned by how beautiful the ring was. The stone wasn't especially large, but the sparkle was breathtaking. Tears welled in her eyes. She looked at his face, at his nervous smile. "Of course!" she said, and she broke into sobs.
Tears threatened to spill from her eyes.
"It's OK," he said, moving towards her. His penis began to rise as he approached, and it wagged back and forth like it was waving hello. The flickering light made it look like his naked skin was on fire. Her emotions all twisted up, she lost the tears and almost burst into giggles.
She felt his breath on her face. He reached for the buttons of her blouse. "Here, let me help you take off your clothes," he said.
She helped him move from his apartment to a small house. They'd known each other for a little while, and she didn't have anything to do for the weekend, so, when he mentioned the move, she volunteered to lend a hand.
By the time they were done, brown boxes were stacked high in the living room. His T-shirt was spotted with sweat and his hair was a mess, but his quick grin and happy eyes made her curious. She helped him carry a box spring and dresser into his new bedroom, and she thought of him sleeping alone there.
He bought pizza for everyone who helped. There was something in the air, though; the other helpers left, smiling slyly.
So they were alone together with far too much pizza. She knew she looked a mess after working all day, but he didn't seem to care. She caught him glancing at her breasts. Men, she thought, but she was not really annoyed. She let the possibility enter her head, and she smiled. It was OK. She liked that he wanted to look at her that way.
He looked intently at her breasts, petted them, his fingers lightly brushing across the skin. He circled her areola with ever- increasing pressure.
She reached for his penis, found its rigid length. She traced along his long, hard shaft and rubbed her thumb against the spongy head.
He pinched her nipples, and she could not hold back a groan. Her nipples swelled with want.
"My ex-husband was OK, I suppose, but I couldn't give him what he wanted." She sighed. "So he had an affair. And we got a dissolution."
"I'm divorced too," he said. "Twice. My first wife said she just didn't love me any more. And the second time was a stupid mistake. I should never have got married again so soon."
He paused between sentences, like he was choosing his words carefully. He wasn't telling the whole story, that was certain. But she had left out critical details, too.
She felt motherly towards him. She reached for his hand.
His finger reached into her sex, delved its way between, and moved slowly up and down through her. She overflowed with desire, and he used her oil to slick his strokes.
She opened her thighs wide and hugged herself tightly. She reveled in the feeling in her cunt. He flicked his finger lightly across her clit, over and over.
"Don't tease me," she said. "Let's make love now. Let's make a baby."
She planned to show him off to her family at the summer reunion, but they spent most of their time organizing the children's games. While the adults played cards or went golfing, they urged the older kids to play volleyball, and helped the younger ones gather flowers along the stream.
"Why don't you bring your beau over and introduce us?" her aunt had said.
But they never seemed to have much time. The kids were having a lot of fun, and he seemed to enjoy refereeing the volleyball matches.
At night, after everyone had gone to sleep, they sneaked behind the cabins and made out like teenagers.
He was on top of her, his hips between her thighs, his penis jabbing between her legs. He looked straight into her eyes. "Are you ready?" he panted.
She had never been more ready.
"Does it bother you, not having children?"
"Oh, sure. When I was young, I always imagined I'd be a father. What about you?"
"Sometimes I get so sad about it I cry."
"It doesn't seem fair, does it?"
She spread her legs wide and welcomed him in. He was on top, and his body seemed to envelop her. It was like she was completely wrapped inside him. Except for his penis, the one part of him that was inside her.
He pumped slowly, evenly, and she rocked her hips with him. She loved the weight of him. The feel of his body all over her. She writhed beneath him, trying to somehow increase the contact.
Every time he withdrew, she could feel the friction of his cock across her swollen little clit.
It wasn't fair that their wedding was a small one. She loved him more than she ever loved her first husband, so why couldn't her second wedding measure up to the first?
But they were too old, and it didn't seem right. So they only invited close friends and family.
Afterwards, when they retreated to the hotel room, they made love for the first time as husband and wife. And she was glad they were alone together and there wasn't the pressure of 200 guests. "I love you," he said, his penis swollen inside her. They held each other tight.
Her whole body contracted, like she was being drawn into her own womb. And he drove inwards again, and her tension climbed, and he slowly withdrew, and she felt herself releasing, releasing with him.
"Oh, baby, oh!" he said.
And she exploded.
"I had a difficult miscarriage when I was 28. I had to have my tubes tied after that."
"For me, I had meningitis. I almost died. A couple years later when my first wife couldn't get pregnant, we found out my sperm count was almost non-existent."
"I guess we don't need to worry about birth control, do we?"
"No, I guess we don't."
"Oh God," he cried, and with one final thrust he found the depths of her, touching her in a place that had never felt a man before. She could feel him throbbing there, his cock shuddering like a child's body wracked with sobs.
His penis shrank inside her. She felt flooded with the mix of their juices.
He rested his head on her breast. "I think we did it," he panted.
She tried to hold on to the fantasy, fighting desperately not to cry. She bit her lip and took a deep breath. She pulled his body close and kissed the hair on top of his head.
Yes, what he said was true. It was true enough.
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