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Bekah leaned heavily on the railing. It was getting more and more uncomfortable to do even the simplest things, like just standing on the deck trying to catch a breath of fresh air - although “fresh” was relative. It already felt humid and cloying, and it wasn’t even June yet. Fucking Virginia!
She was a beach baby, born and raised in Southern California, although you wouldn't know it to look at her. She kept her brown hair straight and cut just below her ears, and usually held it in place with a hairband. Although she loved to be outdoors she didn't tan well, and her skin perpetually had a pink, fresh scrubbed look, even after all day in the garden or schlepping stuff back and forth from the store. A cluster of freckles dusted the bridge of her nose, drawing attention to violet colored eyes that held just the slightest hint of amusement, even when she was mad. It was easy to mistake her for a New England prep school grad rather than a West Coast surfer girl.
When Jake first told her about the opportunity out here she'd smiled dutifully and made all of the appropriate wife noises - "That's great, dear," and "It sounds like the shot you've been hoping for," - but to be perfectly honest, the thought of moving east made skin crawl.
He’d been offered the position of Chief Technology Officer with a fairly large bank. It was very prestigious; he'd be the youngest member on the management team. But it meant relocating to Richmond, Virginia, and he knew how much Bekah loved California. He told her that he was willing to pass on the job if the idea really upset her, but they both knew that was ridiculous. They'd been talking about starting a family, and this job would provide the income and stability they needed, and it would allow her to stay home and raise a child. So off to Richmond they went.
Bekah quickly discovered that Richmond differed from San Diego in temperament as well as in temperature. At the suggestion of Jake's boss they'd bought a house on the West Side, in a gated community that was the current desirable place to live in town. The houses were designed to look old and grand even though the whole subdivision was less than 10 years old. The Keiran's were easily 15 years younger than any of their neighbors, and whenever they accepted a social invitation Bekah couldn't shake the feeling that she was being summoned to the principal's office.
It was hard for her to get used to the social norms and protocols of living in a Southern city. Who you were was seldom as important as who you knew or where you went. It seemed that every time she opened her mouth she managed to offend someone. When she finally got pregnant she welcomed the morning sickness; it gave her a legitimate excuse to avoid all of the women that made her feel like she was intruding anyway.
She stood there a moment longer, wishing her backyard was the beach she'd left behind. She rubbed her distended belly absently; she found comfort in its implied promise of new things yet to come. She unbuttoned her dress and slipped her hand inside; her skin tingled where skin met skin.
All of her senses seemed magnified 1,000 times over since she'd gotten pregnant. Frequently they would rise up and revolt, bringing such intense reactions to taste, touches, smell and feel that she would have to lie down in her bedroom, away from everything, until the assault subsided. If she drank a cold glass of water, she could feel icy tendrils slide down her throat and coil in her stomach, the chill radiating outward and encasing her body. Walking into a grocery store, the smell of fresh baked bread affected her so strongly that she felt empty and starving and no amount of food could staunch her hunger.
But worst of all was the effect that this heightened sensitivity had on her arousal. The sheet pulling across her breast, the spray from the shower playing on her nipple, the feel of the cloth against her labia and asshole - she walked around all day on the verge of an orgasm.
Which could have worked out wonderfully except Jake treated her like she was fragile, afraid to touch her in any way remotely sexual for fear of harming the baby. He gave her backrubs when what she wanted - no, needed - was a hard fucking. She'd tried everything, even enlisting the help of her OB, to convince him that it was okay for them to have sex, but he wouldn't relent.
She could feel an episode coming on. In addition to the pleasurable bursts her fingers were causing on her bare stomach, it felt like the sun was wrapped around her, trapping her in a warm, tight hug that touched her everywhere. She shifted slightly as if maybe she could break free from the embrace but it seemed to tighten in response to her movement. Her nipples throbbed, the skin tightening as they swelled, and she felt herself grow moist between her legs.
Her mind wandered. She looked out over the backyard but instead of trees she saw water stretching as far as she could see. People laughing, children playing the sand, dogs splashing in the water. Then a gentle breeze picked up, rustling the leaves and stirring up the humidity, and she was back in Virginia.
As if in a trance, she glided down the steps into the backyard. The grass was warm under her feet, the dew still clinging stubbornly this late in the morning. She sighed, flexing her toes a little and grabbing several blades with them as she made her way to a wide open space over near the high wooden fence. The sun here was full and strong. She turned her face up and let it wash over her.
