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"Then let's climb those stairs, now."
Anne hopped up and turned quickly. On a whim,
Harold raised his arm and smacked her smartly
across her seat. "C'mon, let's go!"
Oh, my, Anne thought, stopping dead.
"Harold?"
"Yes, what is it? Move!" Once more his palm
landed, stinging her. Anne involuntarily grabbed her
backside and rubbed it, then quickly removed her
hand.
"Spank me again, love."
"Okay." Two more swats as she climbed the
stairs. The small amount of heat on her behind was
creating a much bigger heat between her legs. Once
they were safely in the apartment, she grasped him
roughly and kissed him, hard.
"Please, please take me over your knee, Harold!
Take my cutoffs down and tan my hide!"
He looked at her blankly. "It turns you on for me
to spank you?"
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Lord, he could be so impenetrable at times.
"Yessss!" she hissed.
He moved to the couch and seated himself.
Anne approached.
"Well, take your pants down."
"Ohhh, Harold, you do it, please," she begged.
"Uh, okay," he shrugged, unzipping and working
the tight cutoffs down past her hips, dragging her
panties with them.
Anne stood there, transfixed. The moment she'd
often fantasized about was about to happen, with
the man whom she loved as much as she loved her
own life. Trembling, she placed herself across his
lap, squeezing her eyes tightly as the slaps began
to rain down. Then his fingers explored the crevice
between her thighs, and she quickly opened her
legs. Expertly he touched her just so, until she was
humping with frustration. Then he walloped her
cheeks about a half-dozen times. Anne was ready to
faint with pleasure. The burning tingle in her now-
pink bottom felt so good.
"Stand up." She clambered to her feet, exploring
her warmed seat with her fingertips, curious, while
Harold rapidly divested himself of his shorts,
revealing a very erect flagpole. On a whim she
mock-saluted it, then giggled. "You know the old
saying: Run it up the flagpole and see if anyone
salutes."
"Get over here and put me out of my misery! Or
I'll spank you till you can't sit down."
Anne had him inside her before he could finish
his sentence. "Would you really spank me till I
couldn't sit down? Oh, Harold!" she breathed.
His only answer was a soft grunting, and a
panted, "I love you," as nature took its course for
both of them, Anne fantasizing about a life of sex
and spanking with Harold. I've found my dream
man! she thought.
"Well, Anne, I think we've found the cause of
your recent illness."
She rubbed her hands together nervously. She'd
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felt so badly lately, kind of like she had a mild flu,
only it had been continuing for weeks. And she was
so sleepy! "Tell me straight. Do I have cancer?" If
she did, what a birthday present! Anne was 19
today and looking forward to an evening's
celebration with Harold, assuming she felt well
enough.
The doctor laughed. "Of course not."
"Then, what's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong. You're pregnant, that's all."
"I'm what? How can this be? I always use birth
control!"
"Sure you didn't forget once, say, back in early
June? I'd say you're about two months along."
With a sinking heart she remembered the day
Harold spanked her for the first time. She'd never
replenished the spermicide before that encounter,
and he didn't use a condom, either. Not that he
usually did; they both figured her diaphragm was
protection enough.
"Am I to assume this is not a planned, happy
event?"
"You assume correctly." Anne's visage and voice
were grim.
"Would you like information on, um,
alternatives?" The doctor coughed.
"No, thank you. Not right now."
"Are you sure? You know certain procedures are
illegal in this state past twelve weeks, and you're at
least eight to nine weeks pregnant. And it will take
at least a week to schedule, um, it."
"No. I have to go tell the father, first." Funny
how the doctor couldn't bring himself to say the
word, "abortion."
"If you decide to keep the baby, make an
appointment first thing, so that we can follow your
progress and care for you. If you decide not to, then
you have a limited timeframe in which you can
arrange things."
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."
Out in the blazing August sun, Anne leaned
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against the wall. Pregnant! And her just 19 today!
And Harold due to leave for California in three days!
What would her family say? What would she do?
Where would she go? Did she want to be a mother?
Did Harold want to be a father? Dear God!
Harold chose that moment to stroll by the
campus infirmary, Mrs. Blondie at his side. Although
they were clearly taking great pains not to touch
each other, Anne could tell from Harold's body
language that he'd just had sex. And it sure hadn't
been with Anne.
She stumbled around the corner, out of sight,
bent over as if in great pain. For the first and only
time during her pregnancy, Anne vomited.
"What do you mean, you don't want to go to
dinner? It's your birthday!" Harold's tone became
solicitous. "Did you see the doctor? Are you feeling
okay? If you're not, we can stay in, that's all right." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]