June, 1990 - Val's Pregnancy Story.
The lounge at the posh Tennis Club at Wrightsville Beach was virtually empty, except for a group of six women who had been drinking steadily for two hours following their weekly tennis match.
*****
Valerie, the wealthiest of the women, had come to understand that her husband had been using her to further his business career, first pawning her off to the wife of the richest banker in the area, Wanda Carlson; and then with Gerry Attric, who opened the door allowing Joe into a money laundering venture with a number of shady characters. She had gone along, but when he attempted to set her up with a more recent business acquaintance named Murray Roundtree, a complete stranger, she refused and had thrown Joe out of their bedroom. Val went through a period of remorse, and when Val finally relented, she went to his office intent on making up with him only to catch Joe in the act with his secretary. Humiliated, Val sought advice from her friends and lovers, Wanda and Gerry. Gerry gave her a plan, which she followed; and now, while still married to Joe, she was being paid handsomely to remain his spouse in name only.
After several days of not talking to her husband, Joe, followed by arguments that went nowhere, Val realized that if he were using her as 'property,' it would follow that he would be using other women in the same manner. And so, after another consultation with Gerry Attric, she agreed to act as Joe's wife at public and business affairs, regardless of whose company he was in. She would not besmirch his or their reputations, and agreed to never argue with him about his other women. In return, Joe agreed to give her a personal allowance of ten thousand dollars a month. She did not ask how he could afford that figure in addition to the everyday household expenses. He also signed an agreement which stated that should they ever get a divorce, Val would receive half of his assets at that time.
Gerry had persisted in reminding Val that she was still a very good-looking, twenty-eight year old, with long, raven hair, and a wild, animalistic body consisting of perky, albeit moderate breasts -- her own, for that matter -- that sat high on her slim torso, and she often freely admitted, collagen enhanced lips. Her sudden wealth and style of dress would set her apart from her peers. She had not worn undergarments of any type for the last two years; almost always wore low-cut dresses with subtle slits in the sides that rose perilously high on her long, slender legs. Her rear end could be said to "jut out." It was certainly one of her main attributes; coveted by many men. It had also been rumored that she had a penchant for anal sex when sufficiently aroused.
Following her trip to Atlanta with Wanda and Gerry, and the frenzied participation not only of her own, but of everyone in attendance as the couple on stage ignited watching their sex show; Val had begun nurturing an idea. Today she began putting it together.
*****
Next to Val, sat Janet Fitzgerald, an attractive, small breasted, thirty-four-year-old woman who was seemingly preoccupied with something other than the current conversation going on at the table. Janet was possessed of a head turning ass; and wonderfully shaped legs. She was also sporting a poorly administered head of dyed red hair. Janet was also an alcoholic, and was wrestling with the fact that she had caught her husband, Nick cheating on her with another man.
Janet had just finished her latest drink, and was nervously shaking her left ankle, trying to catch the waitress's eye without calling attention to herself.
Sitting to Janet's right was Natalie Stevens, a slim, short-haired brunette of twenty-eight. Natalie recently had her breasts enhanced from 32 AA to 34 C. Like Janet, she too had a great ass, and shapely legs. Her one desire in life was to become pregnant, but unfortunately, her husband, Vic had a weak sperm count. She was well aware of this weakness on his part, and because of it, she was thinking of looking for another, more virile male.
Vic, her husband, was thirty, and played squash daily. He was an above average golfer with wavy brown hair and at six feet even, ruggedly handsome. Unfortunately, Vic was also a chaser, bedding every woman he could, and his latest conquest was none other than Laura Strand.
Then there was Bernice (Bernie) Grunfeld, Val's long time best friend. Bernie was a slightly overweight, twenty-eight-year-old blonde, with unusually big breasts, who was currently having affairs with an 18 year-old high school senior, who happened to be her lawn-boy, and Joe Marcolina, Val's husband. Bernie's husband, Jon was a thirty year old banker. He played a lot of golf, loved the Carolina Panthers and his best friend was Vic Stephens. He didn't chase around like Vic, but he did stray from time to time.
Sitting alongside Bernie, was Katy Dide, a thirty year old divorcee, with fair hair, moderate breasts, and good legs. She was considered attractive by the other women who had no idea she was bi-sexual, and looking to seduce one or more of the women present.
Standing behind Katy at the moment, was Laura Strand. Laura Strand was silently fuming, having lost her doubles match because Valerie double faulted at match-point. Laura was another divorcee, thirty-one years old, an average looking brunette, who happened to be sexually frustrated. Endowed with large, firm breasts, a trim ass, and good legs, her slightly less desirable attributes were her squashy tummy, and masses of dark hair. She also had dark hairs on her upper lip, and had vowed to have them removed, hopefully by her next payday.
Bernie got everyone's attention, and told a quick joke: "How conceited is this guy? Well, he calls out his own name when he has an orgasm."
Laura jumped in with, "Oh, oh, I've got one. I heard it over at the salon while getting my nails done. What's the difference between a G-Spot and a golf ball?"
She waited, and when no one answered, said, "A guy will actually search for a golf ball."
There was a good amount of laughter among the women, and then Val offered, "Why is divorce so expensive? Because it's Goddamn worth it!"
"I've got one," said Katy Dide. "What is a Yankee?" There was a short pause before she followed with, "The same as a quickie, but a guy can do it alone."
"Boo!" shouted Val and Janet. But then Janet shakily asked, "What does a Christmas tree and a Priest ... have in common? Ready? Their balls are ... just for decoration."
Bernie was back with another quickie: "Okay, okay, anyone know the difference between 'Ooooooh' and Aaaaaaaah?'" She waited a moment and then laughed roguishly and said, "About three inches."
That broke everyone at the table up, and Val motioned for the server to bring another round of drinks.
Katy had another, and asked, "What's the difference between purple and pink?"
"The difference between purple and pink?" Natalie said. "I ... I have no idea."
Laughing so hard she spilled some of her drink, Katy blurted, "The grip on his dick!"
All the ladies enjoyed that one, and although it took Natalie an extra second or two to actually get the meaning, she laughed along with the others from the start.
Janet said, "Got another for you guys ... Um, what's the difference between a Boyfriend and a Husband?"
And before anyone could respond, she blurted, "45 minutes."
The server was handing out the latest round of drinks when Laura piped up with: "Why do men find it difficult to make eye contact with us?"
"They make eye contact ..." Natalie said with some trepidation.
"No they don't," Laura said, "And the reason they don't make eye contact with us is because breasts don't have eyes."
"True! Oh, that's so true!" Janet laughed.
Natalie said, "Can I tell one?"
"Sure, Nat, go ahead," Val said, and the others nodded.
"Okay, what is the difference between medium and rare?"
"One's pink and the other's medium," Laura said off-handedly.
"No, I'm afraid not," Natalie smirked. "Actually, six inches is medium, and eight inches is rare."
"Jesus, leave it to Natalie to tell the best one of all," crowed Katy. "Well done, Natty, girl!"
Then, brushing a lock of hair from her eye, Katy said, "Not to change the subject, but, do you remember the night you got pregnant, Val?"
Before Val could respond, Katy broke eye contact with her to glance at the attractive rear end of a waitress hurrying past.
Bernie Grunfeld, seated directly across from Valerie, snorted. She thought she remembered the night she had conceived some four years earlier. Then again, she'd been drunk, and had never been certain. What complicated matters was the brief fling she'd had with a bus boy at a ski lodge the week before; making paternity a question best determined by a DNA test.
Valerie ignored Bernie's indiscretion and responded to Katy's question soberly.
"Yes, Katy, I do. I remember I was real excited about one particular date with Joe after ... when we were married about a year. Jeez, I must have spent hours getting ready ..."
"Don't we all?" Janet Fitzgerald threw in. Valerie gave her 'the look' and Janet, clearly more intoxicated than the others, realized her gaffe and remained quiet thereafter.
Non-plussed, Val picked right up from where she had been interrupted. "I even bought a black silk, wraparound skirt," Val said. "And a stretchy, black silk and Lycra ribbed T-shirt, with three quarter sleeves."
Val glanced at Natalie Stevens, a confidant of long standing, and rolled her eyes. "Oh, yes, Nat, I intended to get good and laid that night ..." Val paused to laugh along with the others, and then resumed her story.
"The major thing I did in preparing for the date was, well, to depilate my nether regions."
Several of the other women raised their eyebrows at this. Natalie blushed in embarrassment, having shaved her pubes two weeks earlier in a futile attempt to get her husband's sperm psyched up enough to impregnate her. To Nat, Val's statement was a reminder that she had better get busy with the razor and soon, or risk the wrath of her husband who had made it clear he loved a clean-shaven pussy.
This time
, Natalie told herself,
I've got to get him inside me. He loves going down on me and that means I have to go down on him. Then bingo, like clockwork, he spurts in my mouth, and that's that for the night.