Noced up in Chicago

Knocked up in Chicago

Joanie wants to get pregnant. Philip has an idea.

**************

I'm a professional woman. I am, in fact, a university professor, and I'm reasonably good at what I do. Consequently, I get invited to give talks on my research at conferences all over the world. Quite frankly, I think I get more invitations than my research deserves, because I am skilled at giving talks, and also because I'm a woman in a subject that has a dearth of women. (Think STEM subjects.)

I'm also fairly pretty, with a good figure, and -- at least for my male colleagues, it seems -- I'm exceptionally sexy. I think it's due to my long legs, my boobs which are just a tad too big, or at least that's how it seems to me, and to my filthy mind. Of course, men cannot see how dirty my mind is; at least, I hope they can't! At my talks, I'm sure that for every four men who are listening to me explain my results, there is one who is sitting there undressing me in his imagination. Maybe even more than one.

It's a natural consequence, things being what they are, that I often get hit on when I'm at a conference, especially if it's one in a far-off land, such as Europe, Latin America, or Asia. Men seem to think if there's an ocean between us and my husband, then it's okay to have a fling. I don't know why they think that, and at least where I'm concerned, they come away frustrated. I've become skilled at graciously batting away attempts to seduce me. Harmless flirting is fine, but only as long as it's harmless.

My husband Mark is a hot-shot lawyer, and he never has the freedom to come with me, since he is a litigator and is always on-call for this trial or that one. So, I'm alone, and I'm on my own at all these conferences. Mark's a corporate lawyer, doing his part to keep American capitalism safe and prosperous. He works in trademark and copyright law. It's amazing how much money one can make doing that. We're not hurting for cash.

I was all set to go to Chicago, at the Midwest Annual Meeting of my professional society. I was invited to give a keynote address, a real feather in my cap.

"I hope you have a good trip, and that your talk is a big success!" Mark said, as he helped me carry my carry-on downstairs. "What do you pack in this? Lead bricks?"

"A few books in case I need last minute improvements for my slides," I said.

"Isn't that all available electronically now?" Mark asked.

"Yes, but the physical books have my annotations," I said.

"You have great annotations," Mark said, as he felt up my boobs through my sweater and bra. I giggled happily. "Yes, truly great," as he moved on to feel up my ass.

"You know, when they asked for the title and abstract of my talk, they asked for my T. and A. And no, there was no irony intended," I said, in between smooches goodbye, as Uber patiently waited just outside our front door.

"Well, don't sleep with any men in Chicago unless I get their wives," Mark said, giving me his always-the-same admonition.

"I'll do my best, especially after this morning!" I said, referring to the fabulous orgasm Mark had given me just this morning. We kissed again, he squeezed my ass again, and I left, giggling, to let Uber spirit me off to the airport.

***********

I saw Philip almost immediately, as I dragged my carry-on into the hotel lobby. Philip and I went to graduate school together, and we even wrote our theses with the same professor. (Yes, the professor had hit on me, and I was totally grossed out and let him know that! Nothing happened, thank goodness, and he behaved himself after that one ugly, awkward episode.)

"I'm looking forward to your big keynote. It's tomorrow, right? Nervous?" Philip said.

"Horribly! At least I'll know that you're there, so I'll have a friendly face. You'll sit near the front?" I replied.

"Sure. You'll do fine, Joanie. You give great talks, and if I may say so, you have great legs," he said.

"I plan to wear a pants suit," I said, waiting for his reaction.

"How Hillary of you," he said, emphasizing his disdain.

"I have a long, flowery skirt that I got at a vintage clothing store. It's from the sixties, I was told. I could pair that with a blue blouse and a bandana? Add some long gold-tone dangle earrings from India, and now that's an outfit!" I offered, teasing Philip.

"You trying to make Marianne Williamson jealous?' Philip jibed.

"She's pretty. You got a crush on her?" I teased.

"Totally, in a MILF kind of way, but we're talking about you. How about a low-cut blouse and a short, tight skirt, like you wore at the Washington, DC conference?" he proposed. I had actually packed my DC outfit, too.

I ended up wearing the outfit Philip suggested. I had a great new result, and I wanted to maximize the chances my talk would be a success. Looking like a hippie throwback, which I thought was a great idea, or as a throwback to the Hillary campaign, also entertaining, ultimately lost to the correct but sexy look put forth with my DC outfit.

While I'm sure (well, I hope!) it was unrelated to my sartorial choice, my talk was a huge success! It was even a bigger success than my talks are normally. I was sailing on cloud nine, and when Philip invited me to dinner to celebrate, I accepted happily.

As I've said, Philip and I go back a long way, all the way back to graduate school. Now if you've never been to graduate school, in particular studied in a PhD program, then perhaps you don't know, but it's a time-out-of-time, a kind of artificial prolongation of one's adolescence, and people act out in ways they might never otherwise behave, in any other of life's endeavors.

This can include all sorts of things, such as playing strange board games (my favorite was the Japanese/Korean game known as "Go;" yes, I know, it probably originated in China thousands of years ago, but as far as I'm concerned, it's a Japanese game), and also using non-serious drugs and even some serious ones on occasion, and, of course, sex.

Philip is a man. I'm a woman. We were both in graduate school. We liked each other; we still do. So perhaps it's not surprising that once or twice, drunk, stoned, and happy at a grad school party, we kind of got it on, you know?

It was just casual, recreational sex, expressing affection between grad school friends, nothing more, or so I thought. Later, well, much later, I realized that it was much more meaningful for Philip than it had been for me. Shit like that happens. The point is, Philip and I had some history. He had seen me naked, and he had enjoyed my body in the most intimate of ways a man can enjoy a woman. The other point is, that took place long ago, in a time-out-of-time context, and since then we've both grown up and I, for one, am married.

Philip was trying to take a look down my blouse at dinner. I didn't care, I was still on a bubbling high after the over-the-top reception my talk got. Everyone was slapping my back (and the occasional few, my ass as well) congratulating me on the best talk in memory. Philip and I were drinking champagne at dinner to celebrate, and the stuff always goes straight to my head, and it probably loosened my tongue.

"So, how's your hubbie, what's his name, Mark?" Philip asked during the pause between the meal and the dessert. We had already caught up on personal news and discussed practically everything else at that point.

"Oh, he's fine, I guess," I said, and there was something in how I said it that Philip, who knows me as well as anyone, picked up on. Philip is also much too sharp. I was not used to being around someone as perceptive, in that kind of way, as Philip was. It was a little disconcerting.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing, we're both fine," I said.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he said.

"I tell you nothing's wrong! Get off my case," I said. I had an edge in my voice, dammit.

"Milady doth protest too much, methinks," Philip said.

"Well, it's rather an intimate issue. Not a good idea to discuss it," I said. "Oh! Here are the desserts!"

I had a chocolate mousse which I picked at, now distracted by my marital issues Philip had brought to the fore, while Philip plowed right into his piece of chocolate cake, which was big enough for three strong men, but which he managed to inhale in its entirety, and with alacrity.

We returned to the conference hotel, and neither of us was ready to end the evening, so we adjourned to the hotel bar. We found a table off to the side, in a relatively dark corner.

"Okay, Joanie. Talk to me. Tell me about your marriage. Something's troubling you, and you need to get it off your fabulous chest, and share it," Philip said, never missing a chance to mention my boobs. I think he liked my boobs more than he liked me. Granted, all men seem to like my boobs.

"Just between us? You promise not to tell another soul?" I said.

"Yes, of course. Spill," Philip said.

"I don't know...." I said. "It's just too personal."

"Now you have to tell me. I love you, Joanie. You can trust me. I want only what's best for you," Philip said.

I knew the imagination is always worse than reality. I couldn't bear to imagine what Philip was speculating in his mind just then! Was Mark cheating on me? Was he beating me? Was he impotent? Were we in serious debt? Was the IRS coming after us? Had Mark committed a felony? Was he dealing drugs? Did he have AIDS? The new Corona Virus? Did he have a terminal disease? Was he an ax murderer? Shit, I had to tell Philip now, just as Philip had said.

"I can't get pregnant," I whispered.

I knew Mark had been imagining something much more dramatic. He almost burst out laughing, almost saying 'Oh, is that all it is?' but thank goodness he just stayed silent. It's ironic, actually, since I spent the years in graduate school trying

not

to get pregnant!

"We've been trying for two years. Nothing works. Don't ask me how I know, because it's gross, but Mark has a low sperm count. Something like zero. He's never going to make me pregnant. He doesn't know about his condition," I said.

"Lots of couples never have children. Our planet is dying. Don't worry about the human race dying out. It's no big deal," Philip said, rather cruelly, I thought at the time.

"I want children. I always have. Plural: I want at least two. And one of them has to be a girl," I said. "I don't know what to do!"

"Artificial insemination? I'm sure there's nothing wrong with your fertility," Philip said, looking straight at my boobs.

"Mark doesn't know he's infertile. It's delicate with men; it could destroy his ego. In fact, in Mark's case, I'm sure that it would in fact destroy his ego. Plus, there are all sorts of problems with artificial insemination. For example, the semen could come from a real creep; you just don't know," I said, holding back an entire flood of tears.

"You know.... I could be the donor? I look like Mark, after all. Of course, I'm smarter, taller, more handsome, a better athlete, and more talented at the game of Go, and all in all a better catch than Mark, but he would never know his child was coming from a superior being; you could just tell him he finally knocked you up," Philip said.

"You'd do that for me? I could find a sperm bank in Chicago and tomorrow we could skip a few talks to go together and see if they could arrange it for us?" I replied. I was really excited by this idea. "You'd probably have to masturbate into a jar or something. I'd be forever grateful!" I'm sure my face had brightened up considerably, and I was beaming happiness right at Philip.

I hadn't dealt with the issue of deceiving Mark about the paternity of the child, but I could worry about that later. This just seemed like a perfect solution right then. After all, I did still love Philip, anyway. I'd love for him to be the father; it would be so much better for me, at least, than for it to be some anonymous sperm bank donor.

"Well this is awkward. Joanie, I'd like to knock you up the old-fashioned way, or not at all," Philip said.

"What? What do you mean? What are you saying....oh!" I said, as it dawned on me. "You mean...?"

"Yes, fucking. We could begin now if you like. Your room or mine?" he said.

"That's kind of you to offer, Philip, but I could never cheat on Mark." M I'm a married woman. It would be sex outside the marriage. No, that's not an option. We'll have to go to the insemination place together, okay?" I said. On the other hand, I thought subversively, this is the optimal time in my cycle to get pregnant. And it's not as if Philip and I had never been intimate before. Hmm...

"You were involved with Mark, and I suppose

intimately involved

the second time we got it on, after the BBQ, with you naked and bent over the table...So cheating on Mark has some precedent, Joanie."

"I remember, Philip. You're embarrassing me. And that was different; Mark and I had not yet committed to each other. Now we're married," I said.

"And there was Dutton, too, if I remember right? Weren't you screwing around with him every chance you got, while bedding Mark and enjoying the dalliance or two with me?" Philip said. "Is that everyone, or were there more?"

I hung my head in shame. "I was young and foolish and trying to find my way; to figure out what I wanted out of life. That's all behind me now, and I'm married. Happily, I might add, and to Mark," I said, "Not to you."

"Ouch! But still, you're without children," Philip said.

"Yes," I said, as tears welled up in my eyes.

"This is a big decision. It's too late tonight. Let's sleep on it, okay? We can decide what to do tomorrow. Besides, right now, we're both drunk. I know I am!" Philip said. "Maybe the light of day tomorrow will help clarify things, you know?"

That's when I became consumed with fear. Maybe it was irrational, probably it was irrational, no definitely it was irrational? I just don't know. I think it was something in Philip's tone of voice. He was wavering, or thinking about wavering? Shit, I don't know. I just didn't know what to do!

To be brutally honest, maybe I was influenced by a long suppressed, but always present, desire for Philip. I should also add that, as Philip pointed out, I was drunk. When you think about it, though, we had a rather interesting history together, and we shared the exact same intellectual interests. Philip had always been there for me. If Mark had not appeared on the scene when he did....but life is like that, isn't it?

Nevertheless, and while maybe the physical and emotional attraction to Philip was a factor, I think the real motivation was fear. Nothing -- absolutely nothing -- motivates like fear. It was the fear that Philip would change his mind about being willing to be the secret father of my child. It would be a secret he would have to take to his grave, after all. The child would never know, could never know! What kind of man can do that?

Indeed, what if, in the reality of the next day and without the alcohol and grass (yes, we had smoked a little weed, too), Philip came to his senses, and realized he didn't want to father a child he would rarely see? What if, after his brilliant idea, he decided he didn't want to be the biological father of a son, or a daughter, who would never know he was their father?

Or, maybe all he wanted was an excuse to fuck me? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that had probably been his plan all along.

"Given your past history of balancing three lovers at once, it seems to me that a little fling here in Chicago, that nobody need know about, is not such a big deal, especially since it's for a noble purpose, too..." Philip droned on, making the case to get me to cheat on Mark with him, ostensibly for the purposes of making a baby. Yeah, he just wanted to fuck me as much as he could get away with. It was flattering, actually, in a sleazy sort of way. Very sleazy indeed.

************

I tried to remember back to those two times in graduate school when he fucked me. The first time had been at Susie's party. He had been sitting in a big chair in the corner, and I had been too wasted to keep standing up, even. I had come over to him, and since there were no chairs left in which to sit, I had playfully sat on his lap.

It had not been innocent. I knew Philip was attracted to me. More significant, I was attracted to him! Back then, I was in sack-the-shrine mode too, and if something was forbidden, then I was all for it! Yeah, I was having regular sex with both Dutton and Mark at the time, but neither man was there, and well, back then, at least for me, it was out-of-sight means out-of-mind. So, I'm as much to blame for what happened as is Philip and, quite frankly, even to this day I have no regrets.

At one point Philip got a hard on, maybe because I was moving around and rubbing his, well, okay, his dick. I knew I was evil and teasing as I moved around, pretending I was trying to get comfortable. I was just fooling around, and I don't know how he got his cock out, but he did, and he pushed up my short and flouncy skirt, pushed my panties to the side, and he entered me!

It was a surprise fuck for me, but hell, I was into it. I loved that we were doing it right in the middle of a party with our friends all around and not even realizing it. Back then, risky sex really turned me on. We fucked like that, and I was sure that nobody had seen us.

Well, it's possible someone could have inferred what was happening since I was kind of moving up and down when we fucked. It's kind of hard not to do that, after all. It was subtle, but it was there. The only person who might have detected something was another student friend of ours, Ralph. He seemed to be sneaking looks at me as Philip fucked me. Ralph was kind of a voyeur. The man liked to watch.

Philip gave me a ride home from Susie's party. I invited him in, for a nightcap, and as we sat together and drank, we giggled over what we had just done at Susie's party. One thing led to another, and soon I was naked, while Philip was still fully dressed. That also seemed kinky to me, at the time. I guess it's now called CMNF. I loved that.

Philip raved about my body, and went on

ad infinitum

about my boobs. I just giggled, I was so stoned and drunk. Before long I was on my back on the rug, and Philip was on top of me, having his way with me, and I loved it, I have to admit. That, however, was long ago, in grad school, during my time-out-of-time.

***********

I decided I had to get Philip to knock me up while the getting was good. I didn't want to risk him changing his mind! "Yes, let's sleep on it, Philip. Let's sleep on it in my room, okay?"

Suddenly Philip realized this was going to happen. His entire face lit up! He ordered two drinks to go: A glass of French champagne for me, and a Scotch whisky on the rocks for himself. "Johnny Black," he had specified. We took the drinks to my room.

I wasted no time. I put some music on, using my cell phone (there was a way to use the room's stereo with one's own playlist). I put on AC/DC's classic song, "You Shook Me All Night Long,"

and I began a strip tease dance. Philip was sitting in the loveseat with a smile worthy of the Cheshire Cat. I took it slowly to make it maximally erotic; I was taking no chances, now that I had decided to do this.

When the song quickly got to the lyrics "Knockin' me out with those American thighs," I lovingly stroked my own thighs, pushing up my skirt as my hands went higher and higher up my thighs. Every time the words "shook me," came on, I shimmied my shoulders causing my boobs to bounce around. I knew Philip would love that.

When I was down to my bra and panties, both of which were made of sexy lace, I decided --- given Philip's obvious boobs fetish -- to save my bra for last, and I sexily slipped off my panties. It must have taken me a full three minutes to get them off. When they finally hit the floor, Philip cheered and applauded. I had to restart the song.