Chapter Twelve
We spent the last two days of our extended weekend-turned-honeymoon in and around Salida. I showed her off at our "regular" restaurant and the hot springs pool each day and we found interesting places to see, and in which to make love. We returned to that beautiful valley for a picnic, we followed a little county road until it just petered out and then walked a few hundred more yards to make love while admiring the view. We fucked, as opposed to making love, doggie fashion in an aspen grove with her barking and howling like a bitch wolf in heat and me with both hands wrapped in her hair, holding her head bent back, telling her she was a good dog. That night she rode me, cowgirl style, and called me Silver, crying out "Hi Ho Silver, AWAY!" We slept and woke and made love and slept and woke and made love.
It was a delightful couple of days.
But, as they will, they came to an end. As we loaded up to head home she said she wanted to take highway 50 along the Arkansas River. We followed the canyon and then out onto the plains east of Canon City, through Pueblo West and to Pueblo.
She surprised me by saying "pull over here." She was pointing at the sign, and you've seen them along Interstate highways. It was a plain yellow rectangle with red letters - Adult Toys and Gifts.
So I pulled in, like a good husband.
She surprised me again by saying, with one of those feral grins she showed from time to time, "You wait right here, honey. It's a surprise."
She was giggling and walking with that odd light, almost skipping step.
I found an oldies station on the radio and sat back to wait.
It was the best part of half an hour before she came out. I had to chuckle. The small bag she carried was plain brown paper making me think of the line I had read once when, I think it was when Playboy magazine was young in the early 1950s it was delivered to subscribers in a "plain brown wrapper."
"So," I said, opening the door for her, "whadja get?"
She giggled and said, "nuh-uh. A wedding present but for later."
We made one more stop, this time in Limon, where we stopped at a jewelry store where she bought me a wedding ring, a simple gold band.
At the house I carried her across the threshold, making her giggle.
We went to a local restaurant for dinner, her looking pretty modest except that I insisted she wear one of her new sleeveless blouses.
I'm not sure if the looks we drew were for her new look or for the rings we wore.
Or maybe for the way we were hanging on each other, always touching, clearly in love.
Back home we watched the TV, Fox News, and then some silly sitcom before going to bed.
The next morning we padded, naked, down to the kitchen where she made coffee and breakfast. I enjoyed watching her cook, naked, dressed on in an apron ("bacon pops" she had told me, putting it on).
Breakfast done, I could tell she had something going on. She was so excited she looked like a child needing to go to the bathroom. She walked me into the living room, turned on the television, brought me a fresh cup of coffee, and said, "stay."
I watched the news, grumbling, and chuckling in turns, as ten minutes or so passed.
"Well," she said.
I turned and looked.
And stared.
She giggled and did a slow turn.
And I just stared.
She was pregnant.
Well, obviously she wasn't pregnant, but she LOOKED pregnant. Not hugely, ready-for-the-water-to-break pregnant, but a clean six months pregnant with a very distinct rounding of her belly.
"Well," she said again, "do you like?"
I got up and closed the distance between us and took her in my arms, enjoying the feeling of her round belly against me, and kissed her.
"You're are GORGEOUS!" I said, "but, well, how?"
She giggled and took my hand, leading me to bed.
Couldn't look away. Her center of gravity was slightly different, making her walk a little different as well.
I liked it.
I just couldn't keep my hands off the swell of her belly.
At the bed she was giggling as she crawled in.
"I take it you like," she said, laying back.
I laughed softly.
"I love," I said, kissing her, running my hand over the roundness of her belly, "but how?"
She giggled and pushed.
There was a pink tube coming out of her uterus through her cervix. Her uterus was distended.
She reached over into the little drawer on the bedstand and pulled out a little pink bulb, looking for all the world like the bulb on the thing, the sphygmomanometer if you want the real name, a doctor uses to check your blood pressure. It hooked to the pink tube with a little twist coupler.
Then she did that thing she does to, well, "retract" is as good a word as any, but it was swollen and didn't want to fit.
She giggled and said, "help me, honey."
So I pushed, very gently, loving the way she stretched. When the larger part of the pear shape was inside the rest suddenly slipped back in.
She breathed a sign of relief.
"It ain't childbirth," she said, "but it IS a bit of work."
We spent the rest of the morning in bed, playing with her new toy, my wedding present.
I'd squeeze the bulb a few times and then she'd say, "let me rest honey, let things stretch."
And I'd kiss her and tell her how damn beautiful she was and caress the growing swell of her belly and play with her tits.
"If you're going to be pregnant, then these should be producing too," I said at one point, playing with her nipples.
She giggled and said, "I had that thought myself."
"Soooo," I said, my fingertip tracing the circle of hair around her areola, a hard little cone the way I was playing with it, "How about you make that my other wedding present?"
She giggled and said, "I always knew you had mommy issues."
I gave the squeeze bulb a few pumps making her groan a little.
By then she looked to be hugely pregnant. If you had seen her in the store you'd have expected her water to break. She looked absolutely lovely.
We made love then, missionary position. I loved the feeling of the roundness of her belly against mine, When with her on top and I loved the look of her that way.
She was cumming in waves, as she does when she REALLY gets going, and we were both soaked.
