Chapter Sixteen
We lazed in the sun for a while, again, I have no idea how long.
"I used to be shy about it," she said as I lightly toyed with the line of hair running from her armpit to her nipple.
I chuckled.
"Well, it's unique," I said, licking her nipple hair, "but still sexy."
"Yeah," she said with a little giggle, "that's what I figured out."
"Did you ever try waxing?" I asked, my fingers now busy in the mat between her navel and her clitoral hood.
"Once," she said with a grimace, "and once was enough. Never mind how much it fucking hurt in the first place, I had a rash for a month and STILL deal with ingrown hairs. So no thank you."
I chuckled and caressed that mat between pussy and belly button.
"Better this way anyway," I said.
She giggled.
"I'm glad you approve," she said and then turned serious.
"Soooooooooooo," she said, drawing out the vowel, "ready to put that bride of yours into labor?"
That one took me by surprise.
"Ummmmmmmmmmmm," I managed, demonstrating my lightning wit in all situations, "you mean now?"
"Whenever you're ready," she said, flashing that feral grin that I found both attractive and disconcerting.
When I hesitated she went on.
"Look David," she said, "Thomas and Vivian think you guys have a future with us. There's lots of money to be made. Hell, with Arlene's boobs and you not being afraid to participate you guys will be ready to retire in about ten years."
I chuckled and said, "really."
She laughed.
"Hell yes," she said, "I've been with them for 15 years and here I am, not quite 40, and ready to move to my beach house on St. John's."
That made me pause.
"Really?" I repeated.
She grinned and said, "yes, really. Exotics command a high value."
When I didn't say anything she said, "now come on, let's see how Arlene handles labor."
"You mean today?" I said, still taking it in.
"I mean right now honey," she said, taking my hand and leading me back into the house.
At the bedroom, we peeked in and there was Arlene, still snoring, blowing snot bubbles as she slept.
Sarah crept, exaggerating her tiptoeing, and picked up her gym bag from the floor, and returned to me.
"Come on," she whispered.
In the kitchen, she took an envelope and shook the white powder into a glass, found our orange juice and added it, and then turned to me and asked, "vodka?"
So I got our bottle of Grey Goose out of the cabinet and handed it to her.
She poured in a generous double shot and then stirred the screwdriver she had just made.
"What's that?" I asked.
"One of Vivian's concoctions, a bit of lithium to keep her, well," and she giggled a little, "open to suggestion, and a touch of cocaine to make sure she gets the full sensation."
"Now listen," she said, turning serious and taking my hands in hers, "she won't be pretty David. No woman in labor is pretty. She may be beautiful, I think she will be, and she may be sexy, and I'm certain she will be, but she won't be pretty. Understand?"
I shook my head and she laughed and said, "don't worry sweety, I'm just warning you. We're all in for a very interesting rest of the day."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a foil ball, looking like one of those Lindor's chocolates only in a simple shiny aluminum wrapper. She unwrapped it revealing a white ball about the size of a golf ball.
"What's that?" I asked and she rolled her eyes.
"God, you are SO nosy," she said, but she was smiling as she said it, "just something to get things started. It's a suppository with a hormone called prostaglandin. It will get the labor started."
"Oh," I said, still pretty overwhelmed.
She looked at me under raised eyebrows.
"Second thoughts?" she asked.
"No," I said, "just taking it all in."
"Okay," she said, squeezing my hand, "ready?"
"Let's roll," I said, making us both laugh softly.
Arlene was sprawled on the bed, one arm over her head, one to the side, slightly twisted, her legs parted, her left knee bent.
Sarah moved in and sat on the edge of the bed. She used her finger to slip the suppository into Arlene's pussy, her left hand brushing the hair away from Arlene's face.
"Wake up sweety," she said softly, stroking Arlene's hair.
Arlene's eyes fluttered open and for that instant, as I always did, I realized how much like a little girl she looked when she woke.