Pregnant

CHAPTER 3: PREGNANT

What happened to my period? After weeks of fucking in the morning and again at night on his workdays and seemingly throughout the weekends, I had been anticipating a necessary timeout for my exceedingly regular menstrual cycle. But... it hadn't arrived. Days late, I began to worry. A week late I was worried enough that I told Ronnie I needed to be gone a few days. I had to think.

I left the cabin for the largest city in the region for a hotel I've stayed at before. It wasn't unusual and Harold certainly wouldn't be concerned if he noticed the credit card billing there. Summers at the cabin were wonderful but by myself... well, a girl needs some pampering, too. At least, that would be what I would say this time if asked. The first stop I made upon entering the city, though, was a drug store to purchase two different brands. I had lunch in the hotel restaurant, mostly to build up my courage.

Upstairs in the room, I used one test, then the other. Both gave the same result: pregnant. Both claimed to be 99% accurate. I quickly check the web, Mayo Clinic, and found it is rare for a positive result to be wrong. Pregnant. Damn... I'm pregnant. There's no rushing home to get Harold to have sex, either. This baby was black. At least the father is and most likely this baby will be given how dark Ronnie is.

I wanted a drink. I needed a drink. But... I'm pregnant. I really shouldn't drink, anymore. What am I going to do? I have to think. Do I go home and talk to Harold? Do I talk to Ronnie? I know I can't abort it. I've wanted a child for so many years and here it is, given to me. A surprise, unplanned certainly, but... but a child nonetheless. My hands were on my stomach. Right here. A child.

It took two days in that hotel, ordering only room service, avoiding everything and everyone. This was my decision I finally came to accept. It had been my decision years earlier to stop using the pill. That decision at the time had been selfish without consulting or discussing with Harold. Manipulatively, I thought if Harold ever did have sex with me that maybe I would become pregnant and I would get my child. It wasn't Harold but Ronnie but it was still only my doing even if I had completely forgotten after all this time about the lack of protection. I hadn't wanted protection and Ronnie wasn't planned, no more planned than this pregnancy.

I finally did come to conclusion. I wouldn't tell Harold. Not now, anyway. Yes, eventually I would have to but he expected me to spend the entire summer at the cabin. Telling him now or much later... what difference would it ultimately make? What would Harold's reaction be? Divorce, possibly, maybe likely. It wasn't even just fucking some man; I was carrying his child even if it wouldn't be his child, at all. Divorce? Possible. This child perhaps means more to me than Harold at this point of being ignored by him. My father had left me a trust when he died. It wasn't a huge fortune but it was plenty to carry me... and the child... if needed. I remembered he gave it to me in trust so Harold couldn't get to it. How wise it seemed now.

Ronnie. Eventually, Ronnie is going to become aware just from changes in my body but this wasn't going to be something I wanted him concerned with or feeling responsible for. This was me. I already started thinking of him as the donor, not the father. He would know by my appearance by the time I would leave the cabin after the summer, even if I stayed a little longer. I would make it clear to him, though. In the meantime, what was done is done and I would make the most of summer with him for as long as he wanted me.

I had ideas already for how to handle the pregnancy under various possible outcomes of the conversation with Harold I would manage regardless. I had no concerns about that. I wanted this baby. I would have this baby. White, black, or green, I would have this baby. This baby was mine.

* * * *

The morning after my return to the cabin I was a bit nervous. I didn't know why I was nervous. Nothing as far as Ronnie knew was different. At the routine time, I filled two mugs with coffee and walked off the deck and down onto the dock naked. I was going to pick up where we had been before I fled. I looked down the shore and smiled upon seeing the fishing boat quietly making its way along the shore under the power of the electric trolling motor.

I squatted down at the end of the dock as Ronnie coasted in and he grabbed the dock post. My knees were spread in an unladylike manner as I reached forward to hand him one of the mugs.

"Good morning, Mr. Daniels."

He smiled and his eyes were riveted between my thighs. "Good morning, Mrs. Madison. Very nice to see you, again." He still hadn't looked up. I wasn't being shy about teasing him and he wasn't about to be shy in enjoying it. I sat down on the edge and hooked his boat with my feet. Finally, he looked at me. "Everything okay?"

I smiled. Although things weren't the way I had intended them to be, I could honestly say I felt everything was indeed okay. There were going to be tense moments regardless of how Harold took the news. But that will be then and it isn't now.

We talked easily about the progress he made in the past few days. Then he blurted out, "Did you masturbate?"

I shook my head, "No, we promised not to. You?" He was the masturbator between us. He shook his head. "This should be interesting," I suggested.

He smiled lecherously, "Seeing you naked on the dock, even at a distance, got me revved up with renewed desire for you." I parted my legs, again, and he didn't miss it. He leaned toward me and slid a hand between my thighs until his fingers found my oozing pussy. I spread my legs wider, leaned back, and moaned as a finger found my hole.

He removed his hand and tied the boat to the dock post. I smiled at him, "You have time?" I asked teasingly.

"I'll make time," he replied. God... I love this eager, comfortable assumed willingness that we each are ready to fuck at any time.

He took the lead. He climbed out of the boat, helped me up, and led me to the grassy area just off the dock. He gave me a kiss and an order: "Hands and knees." I shivered with pent-up energy. I knew from experience with him this was going to be a hard, powerful fuck and it was exactly what we both probably needed. I dropped to the ground assuming the position with knees spread wide, my breasts hanging below me, and my pussy slick with my ready juices.

When I said I had to leave for a few days and convinced him I would be back and nothing was wrong, he had been the one to tease that we do not masturbate in our absence. It seemed funny at the time. It was only a few days. But even as I sat in the hotel pondering the options of my future I felt the powerful need rising within me. I had changed significantly in my time with Ronnie and that change was also reflected in my consideration of options and my ability to stand on my own with a baby if it came to that.

I felt his cock at the entrance to my pussy and I couldn't wait, I slammed back on my own down his shaft. My breast swung from my own action and I giggled. It wasn't my breasts swinging, it was the desperation I felt to be fucked. Years of not having sex with Harold and it was a regret, a loss of something that almost seemed unfamiliar. Now... Ronnie, you big cock stud... after a few days, I of him I was so needy I might have fucked the bedpost.

Ronnie slammed the rest of his cock into me and I felt his hanging balls slap me. Yes, I was taking his entire length and only the last fraction of an inch now bumped me deep inside. He leaned over me, one hand holding my hip and the other mauling a breast as he plunged his cock in with a force that caused an audible smacking of our flesh.

"Amy... I've... never... known... a woman... like you." Ughhh, was my only possible reply under his assault, his wonderful, delirious assault. "When I... thought... about you... oh oooooo... so often... I would... be... instantly... hard... painfully..."

Any more mutterings from him ended when I cried out, my pussy clenched with an iron grip around him and I skyrocketed to orgasm, my warm juices flooding him inside me. His pounding into me never stopped but for a moment of recognition and stutter in his motion. He fucked me through my orgasm, holding me tightly to his body which aided in keeping me from collapsing.

When I calmed, he pulled out completely so fast it seemed air swept inside my gasping pussy and I was sure it was spasming, flexing as if in a vain effort to locate the missing monster that is so pleasurable. My arms gave out and my breasts and face fell to the grass but he was already flipping me over to my back, throwing my legs apart, and in the process of thrusting his rigid pole back in. I cried out, again, when that penetration drove completely in with a single, powerful ravishment. My mouth opened as if to allow a rush of air to escape from that powerful penetration.

"OH... GOD... RONNIE!" I cried it out, my body bucking under him with each nearly violent crash of our bodies, my breast flying over my chest, the muscles of my thighs and hips and stomach bouncing, too. "OH... FUCK... OH, FUCK!... FUCK... ME... FOREVER!"

When it happen, it was a surprise. This was so powerful I didn't feel the subtle indications. I didn't feel the swelling or pulsing of his thick cock, I only suddenly felt the cum spraying my insides, filling my pussy. This time, even as I erupted into another orgasm, I thought of my womb, the egg already penetrated by his sperm, now being washed again by thousands more sperm on a journey for an egg that is already fertilized. I wrapped my arms around Ronnie's neck and held him tight. I'm pregnant. God, yes!

This wonderful summer was back to normal just that fast. I stood at the end of the dock, boldly naked in the morning sun before the rest of the lake, as Ronnie readied to return to the Johnson place and a day of labor.

"Can you come over for dinner tonight?" I asked standing over him. My legs were parted and I knew my pussy was still leaking his cum onto the sides of my thighs. I could feel it.

He smiled up at me, his eyes taking a long moment to be torn from gazing at my pussy leaking his cum. He smiled wider at seeing my amusement when our eyes finally met. "Yes, definitely. We might even manage to eat..."

I chuckled as he pushed away from the dock. Yes, indeed. Perhaps I should plan to keep dinner warm for a while longer tonight so we can satisfy this other hunger, first.

Our routine fell back to what it had been. I met him on the dock naked with coffee in the morning (and a fuck) and I met him naked in the evening for dinner (and at least one more fuck).

We had our favorite ways to fuck but he occasionally spiced it up with challenges like fucking me on my hands and knees or cowgirl at the end of the dock while other boats were whizzing around the lake in the early evening or weekend afternoon. His challenges generally involved some form of exposure, exhibition.

One day, he came up with a new one: bring him lunch in my boat... naked. I was to arc out into the lake before approaching the Johnson dock. I was nervous.

The Johnson boat Ronnie was using was an aluminum fishing boat with a small outboard and smaller trolling motor attached to the stern. He sat holding the tiller in the back with the heavy marine battery place toward the front with a longer lead just for balance. My boat was a fiberglass model with larger outboard capable of pulling a skier. It had a center console and moved pretty well. The motor didn't run slow enough for effective trolling speeds. It was a fun boat, not that Harold used it much. I would take it out cruising but, though skies and rope were in the shed, skiing behind it was a rare venture, especially since I was usually at the lake by myself.

I was busy making sandwiches with leftover pot-roast but was still wrestling with what he had asked. I somehow felt it was very different from walking around outside or even going out onto the dock. There I could always retreat to some protection if someone got too close. Out on the lake without any clothes...

The basket of food was on the dock and I was removing the cover from the boat, then lowered the lift so the boat was in the water. It was always awkward for me to get into the boat by myself and the idea of doing it naked and leaving the security of the property made it worse. I did it, though, using the reverse thrust to move smoothly away from the dock before shifting forward and easing the throttle up. With sunglasses on the combat the glare and nothing else but sunscreen, I looked down the shoreline making out where the Johnson dock was, then scanning the rest of the lake carefully. My deepest fear was kids out joy-riding. If I was spotted by adults, fishermen perhaps, I'd be very embarrassed; if it was kids out having fun, I'd be mortified.

I took a deep breath, shook my head to remove the negative, fearful internal thoughts, and turned the boat to the center of the lake. I pushed the throttle higher slightly and bounced over the waves caused by winds coming from the south. Maybe a storm was brewing out in the Gulf we'd need to deal with in a few days. I didn't need to look down, I could feel the effect, but I glanced down, anyway. My D-cups were bouncing vigorously with each crash over a wave. The air rushing past, largely from the speed of the boat, sent my long hair trailing behind and stiffened my nipples. There were other boats out but nothing close and the sensation I felt suddenly turned to exhilaration. Married to a conservative, Southern executive all these years had conditioned me to those attitudes in life. The swimsuits I owned were one-piece or conservative two-piece. Here I was not bothering with either. It was freeing, energizing, exciting. Ronnie was thrusting on me experiences I wouldn't have dared consider.

Ronnie was standing on the dock as I coasted up to it. He heard me out there and came to look, the smile on his face so large it might have threatened to split his face. He grabbed the bowline as I swung bumpers over the side. His fingers fumbled with the line being attached to the dock cleats as his eyes paid more attention to my swinging breasts than what he was doing with the line. I handed him the basket after securing the stern line to the dock. He placed it on the dock to assist me, pulling me into a kiss as one hand cupped a breast with all the familiarity of a lover who's been enjoying another's body daily for many weeks.

I was beginning to wonder, not negatively, if we were going to make it off the dock when he parted and pulled me behind him after grabbing the food basket. He was excited to show me what he had accomplished since my last visit. One of the bedrooms was converted into a study/office and he had completed the installation of pine paneling. Pine was the natural choice to go with the abundance of it in the forests. He was excited to show me and I was excited for him. He was a good carpenter and he rightly deserved to have pride in his work. I hugged him from the side as he explained the details of the work. His arm around me, my naked body pressed into his bare upper body, ideas of sex were pushed aside by his excitement to share this with me.

Moments after eating, though, our paper plates were dropped to the deck floor and Ronnie pressed me over the rough split log railing of the deck. Nudged my feet further apart and I eagerly complied. I wiggled my butt back and forth at him as I heard him drop his shorts to his feet. I sighed at feeling his cock head touch my oozing pussy (it always seemed to be oozing with lubrication and ready for him) and gasped at the initial penetration. He reached over the railing and under me to grasp my breasts as he first eased his cock a little deeper, then pulled back slightly before thrusting fully into me. His hips smacked my ass and I moaned. To think I only took a portion of his cock initially and now had his cock banging away in me.

I heard a boat approaching on the lake and glanced up to see a water skier being pulled directly toward the property. I glimpse peripherally, Ronnie waving at it before he pulled me upright, his cock still moving in me. He told me to wave. I numbly did.

"You... oooooo... fuck... you... know..." I gasped out not completely.

"A friend of mine. The... ugh," he grunted, "the plumber... friend."

I heard whooping and calls coming from the boat and waves from the skier. They could see us standing... see us fucking. I was too close to an orgasm to truly care, though. In fact, the added exhibitionism element at being seen fucking took me over the top. I cried out, probably loud enough to be heard.

After, sitting in his lap, he idly fondled my breast and nipple. I kissed him lightly, still calming from our joint climaxes. "They knew, didn't they? They knew to come by and look."

He pinched my nipple, the action drawing a shudder of renewed arousal... already. "Yes. I hope you don't hate me for it. You've been so responsive to adding exhibitionism... I thought it might be effective." He raised my chin with a finger and kissed me, then looked into my eyes. "I was right, too, wasn't I? It sent you over the top."

I nodded. I didn't want to admit it but it was true. There was a part of me that was nervous about what he might do next. A small part, though. The rest of me was exhilarated and anticipating.

The next thing came that weekend. Ronnie wanted to try water-skiing. He said it had been a few years since he had done it but I knew he was athletic and would catch on again quickly. Saturday afternoon and it would be a good diversion from the frantic fucking that made up our weekends. Not surprisingly, though I acted like it was, he convinced me to run the boat for him naked. I generally remained seated which didn't make my lack of covering obvious. I could easily have been in a bikini unless I directly faced someone.

We were crossing the middle of the lake and Ronnie was doing great on two skis. I spotted another boat on our right and moved to the left to allow plenty of room for us. I was putting most of my attention on Ronnie in the mirror besides checking the surrounding lake for traffic. If I had paid more attention to the other boat, I might have recognized it as the same one from the other day. Inexplicably, Ronnie fell. I powered down and turned back. I saw him holding a ski up and knew the signal that he wanted back in the boat. I threw the boat into neutral and reached over the side for the skis while forgetting about the other boat. I then threw the rope ladder over the side for Ronnie as I moved to the stern and began pulling in the tow rope. I felt the boat rock to the side as Ronnie climbed in. I was focused on coiling the tow rope on the floor to allow it to be played out without knots. It was only then that I heard the gurgle of another outboard nearby running in neutral.

I turned to find Ronnie at the side the other boat was approaching on, reaching out to keep it from bumping too hard into my boat. I was caught between a desire to somehow cover myself and get the rope out of the water so it couldn't get wrapped around one of the propellers.

When I finished, I stood with my arms over my chest which was wholly inadequate given the size of my breasts. Ronnie wasn't sympathetic. In fact, he had this all planned, anyway. Ronnie reach back and pulled me next to him as the other boat rocked next to mine. Inside were two young black men Ronnie's age. They, too, were dressed only in swimsuits and their young, toned builds were also on display. Not displayed as much as I was but being pulled in front of them basically killed any ability to hide.

He introduced the two men as friends going back to childhood. They were the guys who did plumbing and sheetrock work. As embarrassing as it was to be naked before them and obviously not their age, they made the effort to not make it any more uncomfortable than necessary but I completely understood the difficulty they had in keeping their eyes on mine. I didn't blame them and found it flattering when their eyes wandered down my body to check out the naked white woman in front of them. What talk there was revolved around teasing Ronnie.