A Baby For Maria

Somewhere inside my head -- defying all of the glorious physical sensations that were swamping my faculties -- a single thought contrived to be heard; the thought that this was when the seed would be planted in my fertile womb; when a baby would be brought to life and begin to grow inside my body.

And that was the thought that finally tipped me over the edge; for that moment of realisation was when my entire body began to quiver and shake helplessly. That was when a fierce and irresistible surge of exaltation occupied every nerve and sinew of my entire body; the moment when hot juices began to stream onto my thighs as Matty momentarily held himself fully inside me and must have been almost deafened by my ecstatic wail of glorious release.

I have no idea how long that lasted -- it seemed intent on lasting through eternity -- but, when it finally began to fade, my arms were trembling with the effort of supporting me and I thought I was going to slump forward onto the covers.

Matty, though, had other ideas. His strong hands held me firmly in place as he resumed his relentless thrusting. By then I was no more capable of independent movement than a rag doll as the rate and power of the pounding steadily increased until, a minute or two later, he finally drove his cock as far into me as far as he possibly could and held it there. I felt the pulsing twitches of it inside me and heard his long, loud groan -- like a bellow of triumph -- as he pumped his rich, creamy seed deep into my insides.

It seemed to go on for ages, as if his entire being was flooding into me -- as if that life-producing fluid was being driven through my cervix and onwards towards my fallopian tubes -- and my shriek of delight united with his and only faded when his spasms began to die away and a few, shortened, thrusts told me that he was finally emptied and drained.

Still, though, he held me in that position for a while longer, before gently lowering both of us onto the bed. I could feel his erection fading, but it was still firm enough to remain in place as he supported himself on his arms. I have no idea how long we remained like that because I was dizzy -- my head was actually spinning -- from the emotional and physical roller-coaster ride I'd experienced.

I remember vaguely hoping that his cock wouldn't begin to stiffen again - because I felt too drained and too exhausted to either resist or respond -- and feeling relieved when it eventually softened and slid out of me. I felt him extend his arms; then the tip of his tongue ran slowly upwards along my spine, making me gently shiver with delight, and ended with a soft kiss at the base of my neck.

I murmured something in appreciation and, as he lifted himself off and settled beside me, he said;

"Thank you, Maria... you are so beautiful... just as you are."

**

5

That Wednesday and Thursday were beautiful days. Although I skipped my work-out on the morning after that wonderful night, when I resumed it on Thursday, Matty joined me and, even though I carried out a fairly punishing programme, he kept up with me.

The sun shone brilliantly on both days and, after breakfast, we spent our mornings exploring the Marche aux Fleurs and the Old Town, visiting the Matisse Museum, doing some window shopping or simply watching the people go by on the Promenade.

In the afternoons, the sunshine drew us to the beach (the hotel had its own reserved area) or to the rooftop pool. We dined well and drank sparingly.

When we talked, I learned that his 'mum' was suffering severely from Alzheimer's -- so severely that she probably didn't have very much time left. It was to make sure that she could receive the best possible care that he'd taken this whole thing on. Eventually, he intended to spend a couple of years backpacking around various countries before returning to New Zealand and settling down.

He was, in every way, a really nice lad. If I'd been ten years younger -- or didn't have someone as wonderful as Sam in my life -- I probably could have fallen for him.

The sex (first thing every morning; every night -- and during the night!) continued to be very good and extremely enjoyable -- although we never again reached the heights we'd attained on that glorious Tuesday.

When he climbed out of the car on that Friday morning, leaving me to continue to the airport, my heart lurched at the thought that I'd almost certainly never see him again, but I carried his image with me on the way home.

Strangely, on that short flight, a number of things began to click into place. Now that he was no longer a constant presence, I began to think about the image I had of Matty's eyes, and of his face. I remembered his manner and his bearing, his gentleness and, above all, the rather odd look of puzzlement when he struggled to understand something.

The plane landed a few minutes early but, of course, Sam was waiting to greet me at the airport. We practically flew into each other's arms -- much to the amusement of some other people in the concourse - but neither of us cared at that moment. We drove home in style, in the Bentley Mulsanne that was one of Sam's proudest possessions and, by the time we reached home, I'd already reported that everything had gone as planned and that, if I wasn't pregnant by then, I probably never would be!

Sam was positively glowing with happiness and there were even a few tears of the purest joy when I said that, ridiculous as it might seem, I was convinced that a child was already in place within me.

It seemed a shame to throw cold water on that happiness, but it had to be done.

"But I'm bloody-well annoyed at you, Sam," I said in the kind of quiet voice that can show far more anger than any amount of shouting. "Believe me... I am."

"What... I mean... why... what have I...." Sam stuttered.

"Because there has to be trust in a relationship, Sam... especially one like ours. And you didn't trust me with the truth... did you, Sam?"

"What? I don't understand... I mean...." Then the look on my face halted the words, followed by an embarrassed; "I see. You worked it out... I should have realised you were too smart not to. Did he tell you?"

"No... he couldn't have, Sam. He doesn't know and doesn't want to."

"I would have told you, y'know. How did you...?"

"Sam... you can be proud of your son," I told him. "Matthew is one of the really good people. And he's like you in a lot of ways... although he'll never know that, of course."

There was a silence that seemed to go for a long time, but I waited. I remembered Sam telling me once that silence was one of the best weapons in a cross examination -- having the patience to wait for someone to add to what they'd said because they couldn't bear the uncertainty of silence.

"After he was born... I had no choice but to put him up for adoption," Sam finally said, "that relationship wasn't anything like the one we have. When one partner is a drunken cheat who doesn't want to work -- who scrounges off the other; who gets into debt and expects to be bailed out constantly...."

"You've already told me about that, Sam," I said, "You just didn't tell me about your child."

"I know... I'm sorry. It was something I've always been ashamed of. I was studying hard, working every hour I could and when... well... when the baby arrived... it was just... too much. I couldn't cope any more. I kicked my partner out -- finally -- and put the baby up for adoption...."

"I understand all that, Sam; but...."

"I followed his progress," Sam was barely whispering now and the tears were in full flow, "I know he had good parents... I know that he grew up being loved and... and I would have helped if it was ever needed. I mean, I didn't want to interfere... didn't want to disturb the happiness he had... but...."

"But you couldn't share that with me, Sam. Couldn't you trust me?"

"I thought... you'd think I was..... Oh, God, Maria... I was so ashamed...."

"And now I'm probably... in fact, almost certainly... carrying your grandchild!"

"What... what will you do, Maria? You know how much I love you... you know I do... and I'll never keep any secrets from you again. Never! I couldn't bear to lose you...."

"I've thought about it, Sam... I've thought about it very carefully. D'you really want to know what I'm going to do?"

There was no answer and so, after a moment or two, I went on:

"If it's a boy, we'll name him Matthew after his dad. If it's a girl... we'll call her Samantha for her grandmother!"

I put my arms around her and Sam buried her face in my bosom and sobbed. It would be alright, now... because we loved each other.