Mating Rituals Ch 12

Author's notes:

1. This is a work of fiction. The activities and practices described in this story are not necessarily either condoned or recommended. If you choose to do anything described in real life with real people you do so at your own risk.

2.All characters are fictional but some events in this chapter are based on actual occurrences (see author's note below).

3.This is the twelfth chapter of the 'Mating Rituals' series – it is a standalone story but will make more sense if you read chapters 1 to 11 first (and why would you not want to do that?).

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Author's note:

Thank you for your comments. I agree, the ending of the previous chapter (and several others) leaves you hanging and wondering 'what next?' and probably feeling less than kindly towards me. It was designed like that. Life often deals us hands we don't really want to play – it is not always soft, fluffy and lovey-dovey. Nor is this story. I make no apology for that. If it rips you to pieces emotionally then it has achieved at least part of its purpose – be grateful that it's only a story and not real life.

As I have written at the beginning of each chapter of this story, it is fiction. However, many of the situations that I have written about in this and past chapters have happened to close relatives and friends of mine. For example, a close relative of mine miscarried her baby in a similar manner Cherie's miscarriage and another close relative has undertaken surrogacy for several couples, including gay male couples, as well as having children of her own with her husband. I hasten to add that none of the surrogate pregnancies were carried out in the manner described in the story; all used artificial insemination of her eggs. The first few paragraphs of this chapter are based on the real life experiences of a close and dear family member who responded to depression in a similar way to Cherie's response in the story. Passages such as this may be hard to read and are definitely hard to write.

One of my aims for this story has been to create a supportive family network in which to explore these and other scenarios relating to a variety of sexual practices, polyamory and emotional and physical traumas. At the same time I have attempted to ensure that it is a reasonably credible, interesting and erotic story with characters who could be considered genuine. Naturally not everyone will agree that what happens in the story is credible, necessary or interesting; I have tried to cater for a wide variety of tastes but, as they say, you can't please everyone.

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Slowly Cherie became conscious of her surroundings. She could sense she was not in her own bed, not even in her own room. The sounds were different; more people, unknown people. Then she remembered, bits, snippets, voices, as though from a dream. She remembered being told her baby had died. Was that fact or imagination, she wondered. She tuned in to her belly; no baby there but pain in her stomach. Then more memories flooded back. She remembered being induced in the clinic, her tiny, perfectly formed baby emerging after her induction, dead. She felt the despair return at the memory. She remembered returning home in a daze, finding nobody home, lying on her bed, sobbing tears of sorrow, anguish, despair, loss, regret and deep, abysmal sadness. She remembered making her decision, walking to the bathroom cabinet, taking out the painkillers, noting that there were two missing from a new pack of 50, pouring herself a glass of vodka, neat, then quickly, before she changed her mind, taking each and every tablet, having to refill her glass twice before they were gone. She remembered writing her note, simply saying, "I'm sorry. Goodbye."

She remembered leaving it on the table before going to her room and lying on the bed, feeling a peace come over her like she had never felt before; welcoming this peace. No tears now, just peace. She thought of her life, soon to be over, of her parents, lovely Lance and Bel, of how sad they would be to find her lifeless body. Mentally she said again that she was sorry. She thought of Al, her wonderful husband, and again mentally apologized. She thought of Sophie, her gorgeous baby, how would she be able to remember her mother; she was too young to lose her mother. Suddenly, for the sake of Sophie, she knew she had to survive, but she couldn't move, her limbs wouldn't work. With a tremendous effort she reached for her cellphone and dialled 911. She remembered telling the operator she needed help now and then she had passed out, her memory blank until a few moments ago. She opened her eyes and turned her head.

"Sweetheart, you're awake," said Bel joyfully, her smile on her tear-stained face belying the sadness she had been feeling after the doctors told her there was only about a 50 percent chance that her daughter would come out of her coma.

Cherie tried to speak but only unintelligible mumbles came out.

"Just be still and quiet," cautioned Bel, "You've been very ill so just rest."

"Dad? So – fy?" tried Cherie.

"Yes, sweetheart, Dad and Sophie are here, I'll call them now, darling."

Bel rang Lance on her phone and he arrived carrying Sophie in his arms. Hesitatingly Cherie reached out for Sophie and held her close when she was put in her arms.

"Mommy sick" she said seriously as she looked at Cherie's face intently.

"Mommy better now," managed Cherie as she held her baby, her saviour, to her.

Lance and Bel were very keen to find out what had happened to Cherie. Clearly she was no longer pregnant, but what had happened between when she left home to go to the clinic to see the obgyn and when they had arrived home to find police in the house, the front door broken in and ambulance officers pumping her stomach and fighting for their daughter's life. Still, there would be time for that later. The main thing was that she was still alive and apparently lucid. At least she remembered who they were and that Sophie was her daughter.

Lance had gone to tell the doctors that Cherie was conscious and he arrived back with a doctor and nurse in tow. The doctor quickly carried out some basic checks and told Cherie that she was a very lucky woman.

"Had you been found only a few minutes later it could have been all over because there would have been nothing we could have done," he told her gently.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"Instead of that, all you have is a bad hangover. What happened? We know what you did, but what caused you to do that?"

Cherie told the doctor and her mom and dad what had happened, how the clinic had told her that her baby was dead, Carol's baby was dead, and the best thing to do was to simply induce her to give birth to the stillborn fetus. Once that had happened, they simply told her she could go home, she concluded.

"They should never have done that," said the doctor, "You should have had some support at least and preferably you should have been kept at the clinic until someone could collect you. So what happened then?"

Cherie told them how she had felt and what she had done. Bel helped her to sit up, as she seemed to want to do, and held her tightly as Cherie sobbed against Bel's chest, aching, heartfelt sobs, as she ranted against the world, the universe and, most of all, against herself, blaming herself for the death of her baby, Carol's baby, before it was even born.

"I couldn't even carry a baby to full term anymore," she sobbed, "It's so unfair. Everyone else is healthy and pregnant except me. I hate myself; hate, hate, HATE myself."

Bel let her continue, let her get this out of her system. She knew her beloved daughter was beyond reason at present; there would be a time for reason, but that was not now. She just held her tightly, rocking gently as you would to soothe a baby, which was where Cherie had gone to in her mind.

In her mind Cherie remembered the past few days, as you would remember a nightmare, her trip to the clinic, the words of the obgyn, her brief labor, holding her tiny, perfectly-formed girl child in her arms for the first and only time. She named her Abigail, the heroine of a book she had read as a child. She vaguely remembered people attempting to console her, but time had ceased to have meaning; people had ceased to be real in her otherworldly reality of grief.

Eventually even she ran out of sobs and just rested silently against Bel, clutching her as though for dear life, with occasional sobs between deep breaths.

"There, there, sweetheart," murmured Bel, grateful for the small progress that Cherie seemed to be making, "Just relax and rest. You've been through a huge ordeal but everything's fine now. There's no reason why you can't have more children so everything will be just fine."

"It won't be," she replied, her voice muffled against Bel's clothing, "It won't be that baby."

"No, it won't be that baby, it will be another one, just as wonderful, conceived just as lovingly and you'll carry it to full term perfectly and beautifully, just as you did with Sophie."

"How did they find me?"

"You left your phone on and they tracked it to our home. It was very fortunate. The ambulance people couldn't get in so they called the police to break in. Seems they were just in time," replied Bel.

Cherie remained silent, slowly relaxing. Bel could feel her tension reducing; her breathing becoming gentler as she slowly returned to her normal self. Over the next half hour she improved, becoming less tense and slightly more rational; the worst seemed to be over. Her teary eyes dried; as she sat in the hospital bed on her own, a look of resolution returned to her face and she sipped at her cup of coffee and cuddled Sophie.

"You know," Bel said, "I've heard some people say that when a baby miscarries like that it's because a spirit simply needed to work out some karmic debt. The baby was never meant to be born. I know that's no solace for you right now, but maybe in the future you might think on that and realize that perhaps everything is exactly as it's meant to be."

"Mmm, possibly, Mom, but right now I wish it had chosen someone else for its karmic debt. I just feel hopeless; so empty, and with nothing to hold and cuddle and feed and love. I miss her even though I never knew her."

Bel noticed that Al, Matt and Carol had looked in through the partly open door, so she signalled them to come in. They did, sitting gently around Cherie on her bed as she looked at them glumly through teary eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "Sorry I killed your baby."

"Darling, you didn't kill any baby," replied Carol emphatically, "It just died. It happens sometimes. Not every baby that is conceived is destined to be born or to grow up. It's how nature works. There are always those who are not meant to be born or to survive. Fortunately for humans that number is very low when compared with other creatures. However, it is still sad and traumatic. But if you're willing, I'm sure you'll be able to have another absolutely perfect baby. I'm sure Matt's quite willing to assist also."

Matt grinned, nodding in agreement.

Bel stood and Al took her place beside Cherie, cuddling her and holding her tightly as he still felt just the occasional sob pass through her body. She was visibly calmer now, more relaxed, but Al suspected that there was a way to go through the tunnel of grief before she would become the bubbly, exuberant and sexy wife he knew so well.

He was right. It is said that any grief can pass in a week provided it is allowed to be expressed and is not merely stuffed down inside. Thus it was with Cherie. She was released from hospital that afternoon and during the next few days she slowly recovered but still had occasional and progressively less frequent times of sobbing. Three days after she was released from hospital they had a quiet, private funeral for Abigail at the child's section of the local cemetery, putting her to rest with other children who had suffer pre- or neo-natal deaths. There were no dry eyes as the tiny casket was placed carefully and lovingly in the small hole in the ground.

Other members of the extended family cared for Sophie, allowing Cherie the time she needed to heal. Al slept with her alone that week. In bed she just wanted to be held and cuddled; sex was off the menu. However, on the eighth day after her miscarriage as they lay in bed together she reached out tentatively for his cock, which was rigid as it had been for the past few nights, abstinence being unusual for Al. She held him gently and directed his other hand to her pussy, which he began to caress gently.

"Honey, I think I need to feel you inside me," murmured Cherie as she pressed herself against him.

"Mmmm, and that's exactly where I would like to be," replied Al.

They made love together, carefully, sweetly, gently, both aware of the importance of this moment, the moment when Cherie felt she could end the grieving process and begin to live a normal life once again. They lay facing each other on their sides, Cherie's legs wrapped around Al's torso, his cock deeply implanted in her vagina as they moved against one another gently. Al came first, his period of abstinence rendering a long slow build up impossible, but he then remained hard while Cherie rejoiced in the newly discovered sensations. All feelings of guilt, doubt, hate for herself, and grief for her unborn child disappeared as she felt the familiar sensations increase and permeate her being. Within a short time she was a sexy vixen once again, moving rapidly and vigorously to slake the lust that she felt rising inside herself. She came hard shortly after this reawakening, then again a few moments later, raking her fingernails across Al's back as her whole being was lost in an ocean of sexuality. She held him to her tightly, her vaginal muscles pulsing as she first screamed, then sobbed out her ecstasy, releasing the last traces of self-pity that remained from her recent experiences. Her pulsing vagina brought Al to a second orgasm and he once again filled her pussy with his hot cum. Once they were both sated, they kissed deeply and slept.

The following morning Al made love with Cherie once more, bringing her to two screaming orgasms before filling her love tunnel once more with his juices. She was back to her old self; still fragile, but wiser and ready to cope with normal life once more. At breakfast everyone seemed more at ease with Cherie, having heard her familiar screams of ecstasy during the night and morning.

"So pleased you're back with us fully again," said Bel.

"Pleased to be back," replied Cherie with a grin.

"You know, this just goes to show how fortunate we are to be us and to have this large extended family of people living together," philosophized Lance, "I guess from all this we can learn the importance of gratitude, especially the gratitude of having others here to support us in times of need. We could certainly do a lot worse that to live all the time with an attitude of gratitude."

Cherie thought about this for a few minutes, then tapped a glass on the counter to gain everyone's attention.

"I guess you all know that I'm a lot better now," she began, noticing grins from most of the people there at her reference to her nocturnal sounds, "Yes, I know, I simply can't cum quietly. Sorry." She grinned at the same time as she looked at the floor, embarrassed slightly though at the same time knowing that there was no cause for embarrassment with family. She raised her eyes and looked slowly around the group. "Lance just mentioned that expressing gratitude for everything we have is very important. So I need to express my gratitude to each and every one of you for the support you have given me this past little while, and also in the past during earlier emotional traumas. Thank you. I couldn't have recovered as quickly as I have without your support."

She paused and looked down as Sophie latched onto her leg for support as she took a few experimental steps. Cherie thought how cute she was learning to walk and gave grateful thanks for the gift of having such a wonderful child.

Cherie continued: "In particular I'd like to thank those of you who helped me, held me as I sobbed out my grief, spoke words of wisdom to me which helped me to recover, looked after Sophie for me when I was unable and disinterested, and who covered for those who undertook those tasks. Thank you, thank you thank you."

As she finished her address, everyone clapped in support and offered words of encouragement. Even Sophie let go of her leg and clapped, looking up at her mom and smiling before bending in the middle and sitting down abruptly.

That evening Cherie, Al, Carol and Matt met and discussed the way forward.

"I'm very willing to carry a baby for you, Carol, hopefully to full term this time. I'm sure Matt will have no objections to making another baby inside me."

"None whatsoever," said a grinning Matt, "And I'm sure Al will be able to keep Carol happy while I do so."

"I'd like to have a full menstrual cycle before we try again, just to make sure everything still works, so I should be fertile and ready again in about five or six weeks, depending on how long it takes things to settle down again. Till then I guess we can always practise together. So what I'm proposing is that we all sleep together in our big bed so we can mix and match as we wish. Does that sound like fun to you?"

There were smiles and agreement all round so Carol and Matt left to take some of their clothing and belongings into Cherie and Al's room.

Karen, Wendy and Marie were all progressing well with their pregnancies, their bodies swelling to show that they were pregnant as they took on the posture and waddle that pregnant women have to counterbalance the increase in weight and bulk in the front part of their body. Karen found it increasingly difficult to keep up with Ryan, who was toddling everywhere and getting into everything it seemed. He and Sophie made a perfect team for disruption and minor destruction and seemed to learn from each other and work together really well. With the prospect of having a further three babies in the household as well as the possibility of Marie, Wendy and Karen losing their sexual ardor as their pregnancies progressed, Bel wondered if they should advertise for a young woman to work as a nanny with benefits to look after the children and carry out other not-so-onerous chores; in short, to join the family. Everyone thought this was a good idea so Bel began a recruitment campaign.

It took only three days before several young women were interviewed by Bel and Lance. Over half the applicants withdrew once they heard what was involved, leaving three who still wished to take the role as offered. These three were invited to an informal meeting of all adults in the extended family. This meeting took the form of a party and the applicants were invited to stay overnight with the stated objective being to reduce risks associated with driving after drinking alcohol. As it was expected that the person employed would engage fully in the family activities, a stipulation which had caused the high withdrawal rate amongst applicants, this overnight stay was also to provide an opportunity for family members to assess applicants more fully, and vice versa of course.

Sue, Tracy and Doe arrived at the specified time on Saturday afternoon and Bel escorted them to the pool deck where everyone was gathered with the children. In order not to scare the women away prematurely and because Sophie and Ryan were playing in the paddling pool, everyone was dressed, albeit in brief swimming costumes. Bel took the three newcomers around the group, introducing each family member individually and giving a few minutes for them to chat and feel comfortable with each new person they met. Once all the adults had been introduced, the three potential nannies were introduced to the children, who both stared at them for a few seconds then went back to playing. After that Bel left the three newcomers to fend for themselves, and once that occurred, several people, notably men, left their own groups and began chatting with the young women.