Hitting the Bottom Ch. 11

"You do that, son. You do that. Now go, do what you need to do."

Grinning, I turn and leave the small office, then skip down the stairs two at a time in my hurry to get home.

Only three more hours. God, I can't wait!

*

*

*

"I wish I had time to go home and change," Sandra gestures self-consciously at herself, still wearing her white nurse's dress.

"Are you kidding me?! Baby, you're gorgeous. I'd question you wearing that to work - some patients may go into cardiac arrest seeing you in it - but for a date with me? Honestly, it's perfect."

I mean it, too. The hospital-issued white uniform dress, while respectable in length and cleavage, fits her curves as if tailor-made, lovingly tracing the lines of her body, leaving just enough mystery for my imagination. And oh, the images my mind comes up with...

Sandra smiles. "Thank you. I needed to hear that. It's just that... I dunno. This is such a nice place, you know?"

I do know. I took care choosing this specific boutique bakery, right in the middle of the park. The air is still warm at four in the afternoon, the light breeze brings the sweet-salty smell of the Mediterranean ocean right into town, and the autumn colors all around us are unequivocally romantic. It's the perfect setting. I hope.

My heartbeat quickens, and I make an effort to keep calm, at least on the outside.

"I'm glad you like it, baby. I wanted to take you somewhere special because I have something special to ask you."

Fuck. Just saying that makes my pulse accelerate until it thumps loudly in my ears.

"Oh?"

Sandra bites her lower lip as she looks at me expectantly, and I think I hear an excited undertone in her voice, but maybe that's just my wishful thinking.

Trust and hope, Dan. Here goes.

My limbs are sluggish obeying my mind as I get out of my chair and then down on one knee, taking both her hands in my shaky, slightly damp fingers.

Sandra's eyes widen as she catches on to what I'm doing, and her mouth drops open in a gasp, and suddenly I worry she'd stop me before I got any words out.

"Wait, baby. Let me go first, okay?"

Sandra closes her mouth, giving my hands a nervous squeeze, but then blurts out:

"But - but I haven't told you my decision yet. About - about the baby."

My breath hitches, but I push through. "I know you haven't, and I don't want you to tell me. Not until I say my piece. Please." My voice starts out rough, and with effort I manage to soften it. "Please. Hear me out first, okay?"

She nods, and I mirror her gesture. "Thank you, baby. Now, first of all, I just want you to look over to that other coffee shop, on the other side of the lawn. See the table just across from us?"

Confused, Sandra looks over, and then exclaims - "That's - that's my brother Lucas!"

Her older brother waves at her casually, though his face is grim. Sandra looks back and forth between us until finally her gaze settles on me, questioning.

"I asked him to be here. And Jon and Annie are sitting at the table behind him, see?"

Sandra's head whips back as she scans the other cafe, until she finds my friends. She hadn't met Annie yet - I hope to rectify that soon - but she knows Jon from the hospital, and then from her time nursing me at home. He gives her a discreet thumbs-up, and Sandra smiles in embarrassment and returns her eyes to me, kneeling before her. Her surprise at seeing them all slowly melts into understanding.

"Is this your way of giving me a safety?"

I nod, swallowing hard.

Sandra tilts her head and squeezes my hands. "I've never been afraid of you."

My voice is strained when I reply. "One of these days, I hope I won't be afraid of me, either. Until then, I'm going to play it extra safe. Will you bear with me?"

Instead of answering she raises our joint hands, and kisses my fingers. With my heart lodged in my throat, I plunge forward, our eyes locked together.

"So, here's the deal, baby: I love you. You are the most generous, compassionate woman I've ever met. You're smart and fun and hard-working, and you're so honest it's freakin' mind-blowing."

"I -"

"And you are, by far, the sexiest woman on the face of this earth."

She gasps and blushes, and I kiss her hands and continue before she can interrupt.

"Now, I figure you've made your decision, but I don't want to know what it is - not yet. Because I want this to be only about us. About you and me. Regardless of the baby. Okay?"

"Um, okay -"

"Wait. I need you to listen carefully because this is the important part, okay?"

"Okay. I'm listening."

I smile, and then inhale deeply, gathering my courage.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to grow old with you. I want us to raise our children together - now or in the future, whenever you decide. I just want you."

Her chin starts to quiver and her sea-blue eyes fill with tears, and my heart swells when I rush on to finish -

"Will you marry me, Sandra?"

There's a moment of silence between us as she blinks a couple of times, tears now trailing down her flushed, pretty face, and she's biting her lips so hard I'm afraid she'd draw blood.

"Oh - I - I mean - is it my turn now?"

I nod jerkily, cough, and hope not to die of a heart attack as I await her reply.

"Yes, please. Go ahead."

She smiles through her tears. "Yes."

There's silence. Then her word sinks in.

"Yes?"

Her smile widens, even as she sobs.

"Yes, I'll marry you. I love you, too."

I let her words wash through me. My head swims and my body trembles with relief. In the next moment, I remember the ring stuffed inside my shirt pocket. Fumbling to get it, I try and fail to keep steady as I reach for her hand.

Looking up I see her eyes riveted to the antique ring.

"Oh my gosh, it's beautiful!"

"It was my mother's; it's been in my family for generations. Here..."

Slipping the ring carefully onto her third finger we both stare at it - me a little bit in shock at the reality of it hugging her finger so perfectly, while Sandra says reverently -

"It's breathtaking, Dan. I'm - honored."

I bend to kiss her hand, the coolness of the ring tickling the edge of my lips, contrasted sharply with the warmth of her skin.

"The honor is mine, baby. Thank you."

I reach up to her as she bends towards me and we meet halfway for a sweet kiss, which soon turns spicy and then downright hot - only to be broken by Lucas's voice, sounding thicker than usual as he speaks from somewhere above our heads.

"So, may I be the first to congratulate you two?"

We break away laughing, and then there's a flurry of hugs and kisses and handshakes and back-slaps, with Jon and Annie being close on Lucas' heels. Just as we pull back and stare at each other with matching silly grins on all our faces - even Lucas - the background music turns to a loud rendition of I think I wanna marry you and a band of waiters, both male and female, create a ridiculous dance train that is headed straight to us.

The line of unlikely dancers is led by a huge bear of a man in a cook's attire holding some kind of dessert on his plate, only it's topped with the most crazy sparkler I've ever seen - like a huge sconce shooting sparkles out a couple of feet high to the air. We all stare in disbelief as the human train arrives at our table, and the cook places his platter on our table with grandiose flare.

"This one is on the house, folks. Bon Apetit!"

He shakes my hand, and then gives my still-shocked fiancé a kiss on each cheek, and then goes back to lead the waiters in dance all the way back to the kitchen, leaving us all gaping behind him, still trying to process.

"Umm, I guess we'll all share - there's a handful of spoons and enough crème brûlée here to feed a small army!" Sandra exclaims, and everyone takes the hint and joins us, pulling extra chairs from neighboring tables whose beaming patrons easily agree to adjust for us.

Belatedly, I make the official introductions between everyone, and the conversation which starts off a bit haltingly soon becomes lively and good-natured when we somehow get to talking about soccer. I sit back and relax a bit, finally letting myself fully enjoy this - this miracle - in its fullest, when Lucas's phone rings.

Checking the display, he grins and then answers. "Yes, Mama, she said yes!" and we can hear the excited squeal from the other end of the line, and then some chatter, to which Lucas replies - "The bakery at the park. Yes I know you're just around the corner -" he winks as Sandra and I both gasp - "and yes, you're welcome to join us - right?" he looks up to catch our affirming nods, and returns to the phone. "Yes, Mama, they'd love for you to come." Lucas nods as he listens and smiles. "Okay. See you in a moment then."

Indeed, it takes less than a minute for Sandra's teary-eyed mother and her no-longer-somber father to show up. I quirk an eyebrow seeing Mr. Matsakis is carrying something - a small ice-box, of all things, but he just smirks at me and goes on to give his daughter a bear hug and to shake my hand, while his wife, after showering both of us in kisses, goes on to coo over her daughter's ring.

"I'll be right back", Mr. Matsakis announces, and walks into the bakery, only to be followed out a moment later by an excited waitress carrying seven empty champagne flutes on a tray.

The waitress places the glassware in front of everyone while Mr. Matsakis opens the ice-box and produces two expensive-looking bottles of chilled champagne, and hands one to Lucas.

"You open that one, son."

Two loud pops sound shortly - to the cheers of the people around us - and then the waitress goes around pouring everyone's drinks. When she's done she takes the one empty bottle with her, and leaving it's half-full twin on the table, and Mr. Matsakis goes to his feet and raises his glass, motioning for everyone else to do the same.

"A toast, then. To my beloved daughter Sandra, and to her beloved Dan. I am not a man of words, so let me just wish you two happiness, good health, and a long and fruitful marriage. Salut!"

"- Salut!"

"- Cheers!"

Everyone raises their glasses and drink. I smile as I look sideways at Sandra, and notice she barely wets her lips with champagne, and then licks them, sucking her bottom lip to get that tiny drop. Then she puts down her glass and looks up to catch me staring at her. Smiling shyly, she shrugs and nods slightly, biting her lips.

Comprehension dawns on me slowly. I gulp down the mouthful of champagne I just took, and stare at her dumbly, hope bubbling in my chest until it spills out in a delighted chuckle, which draws everyone's attention back to the two of us, staring at each other with matching silly smiles spread across our faces.

Annie is the first to catch on, gasping loudly as her hand flies up to her mouth, belatedly trying to stop the sound from escaping. Jon looks between her and us, and a smile almost as big as mine appears on his face. Lucas, on my other side exhales loudly, as if hugely relieved, and simply walks around to take Sandra in a big bear hug, holding her close for several moments and speaking quietly into her ear. She nods emphatically into his neck as fresh tears stream down her cheeks.

"Okay, someone tell me what's going on."

Mrs. Matsakis glares at me, then at her son over Sandra's head, and when neither one of us speaks she turns to Jon and Annie, who shrug apologetically and shake their heads, unwilling to answer.

Mr. Matsakis glares at his oldest son, and his deep voice bears no argument as he speaks:

"Lucas, what's going on here?"

Lucas and Sandra break their hug reluctantly as the man looks from his sister to his parents, and back.

"I'm just happy for Sandra, that's all."

I swallow my grin at their matching guilty looks, imagining Sandra as that tooth-gapped blonde little girl once more, standing a half-shoulder behind her brother who tries to protect her by somehow talking their way out of whatever mischief they'd done.

But Sandra is no longer a mischievous kid. She rests her palm on her brother's wide shoulder, squeezes it as she smiles at him, and then steps forward to face her parents squarely. My heart swells with pride as she speaks, her voice steady and strong, if a bit thick with tears:

"Mama, Papa, I have more good news for you."

*

*

*

Sandra's pronounced curves look even more exaggerated in the soft glow of candles.

I can't stop looking at her, at the way the light flickers across her huge belly and over her heavy breasts. Her areolas, which before her pregnancy would pucker to resemble tiny red raisins are as large as dollar coins now, and much darker in color. Her nipples stick out, glistening wet from my tongue, as does her clitoris, which peeks between her pink, swollen labia, coated in shining juice.

With her being as far along as she is, I can no longer have her flat on her back. Instead she is standing at the doorway, legs spread, hands grasping the frame on either side of her head.

My fingers tunnel in the sweaty hair at her nape, keeping her steady, and my mouth covers hers as my other hand finds her slick folds. I catch her gasp as I slowly sink two fingers into her engorged tunnel, and flick my thumb back and forth over her clit quickly, insistently, precisely the way she likes it.

Sandra mewls into my lips, her soft whimpers quickly turning into louder whines, and then she throws her head back and opens her mouth for a scream, except no sound comes out as her breath catches in her throat.

God, I love watching her cum.

She seemed suspended there on the precipice and I almost freak out at how long she'd gone without a breath when Sandra exhales with a deep shudder and convulses around my fingers, her sweet juice drenching my palm, and I smile and bring her head forward to catch her eyes.

She's panting heavily now and her eyes are glazed over, but a dreamy smile stretches on her sweaty face.

Wordlessly I slide my arm under hers and support her weight as I gently nudge her forward and then walk her over to the bed. Our folded duvet, covered with a thick towel, waits on the floor at the foot of our bed just for this occasion - having a nine-month-pregnant subby wife means a limited range of positions and extra planning in advance - and I help her down to her knees and have her place her forearms on the bed, half-bent forward.

"Spread wider, babygirl."

Kneeling between her knees on the thick padding I hold my dick in one hand to guide it to her pussy, spreading her left ass cheek with the other to get better access - and view. And oh, the view is absolutely spectacular.

I watch the head of my cock split her labia and glide easily inside. She's so wet there's barely any resistance, only a deliciously hot and sleek pressure that wraps tightly around me. She moans when I enter her and slowly grinds back against me, and I grab hold of her ass and return the favor, going as deep as I can until her beautiful, smooth globes flatten against my pelvis.

She breathes in and lowers her head to her arms with another deep moan, while her pussy clenches around me. I smile. My babygirl is impatient, isn't she?

"All right, love. I know you've had enough of waiting... here we go."

Letting my fingers sink into her soft flesh I pull out only to thrust back inside, again and again and again, my need spiking with every deep stroke, building higher by the second. My babygirl keeps working me from the inside - they called them 'Kegel exercises' in our prenatal course, and Sandra had been practicing religiously - and it doesn't take long before my balls tighten and my dick swells inside, the tight pressure becoming almost painful before it is released in several large spurts, as I splash Sandra's inner walls with thick, hot spunk.

"Arrgghhh!!"

I jerk inside her a few more times until the very last of my orgasm is gone, and then collapse over her, catching myself with my hands on both side of hers to keep any of my weight off, and heave over her, huffing and puffing in her ear, my heart still running a mile a minute.

Another moan rises from her lips and she rolls her head to the side, and I lean over to stroke her hair away from her damp face with my still-shaky hand so that I can see her eyes.

"So, you think it worked, baby?"

Sandra chuckles breathlessly and bucks lightly against me to indicate I should get off her. I move to the side and then help her up to her feet and then onto the bed, watching her move with all the gracefulness of a blue whale onto her side, then pull one pillow under her head and another between her knees, as has been her favorite sleep position for most of her third trimester.

"Well..." she breathes, and then reaches for the bottled water on the nightstand, takes a deep swig, and hands it over to me before continuing. "I think we've covered every trick in the book with this one - nipple stimulation, giving me a couple of hard orgasms to get my uterus contracting, priming my cervix with the Prostaglandins in your semen - at this point, if this doesn't work I'd be prone to think he's never coming out!"

I chuckle and gulp down half the bottle before capping it and placing it back on the night stand. "Well, we've definitely given it our best shot... guess we'll wait and see, huh?"

Sandra grunts something about 'tired of waiting' and I retreat hastily to the bathroom to look for a washcloth, having learned it would be better than remaining a sitting target to her understandable frustration. At 41 weeks gestation, a woman had a right to be short-tempered - even a good little subbie like mine.

When I'm back with the warm, wet cloth I find her already dozing off.

"Baby, I know you're tired... just let me clean you up a bit okay?"

Reluctantly she lets me lift her top leg enough to reach in between them and gently swipe over her folds. When I bring my hand back to fold the cloth, my heart stops in my chest, and then kicks into a gallop. I can barely mumble -

"Sandra, baby, you're - you're bleeding."

"Mmm... what?"

I don't think she heard me. Fuck. Should I stress out about this? Should I stress her out? Shit. She's the medical professional between the two of us. FUCK.

"Sandra, look at the washcloth. I think - I think you're bleeding, baby."

"What?! Let me see." Obviously she heard me now, because all sleep seem to have evaporated from her eyes as she props herself up on her left elbow and reaches for the piece of damp cloth in my hand.

"Turn the lights on, Dan. I need to see better."

I roll over to flip the switch and full light floods the room, making me blink several times before I can focus on anything. When I roll back to Sandra I see her sitting up, staring at the washcloth in her hands, an excited smile spread on her face.

"What?!" I demand, and she chuckles nervously.

"I think - I think that's the mucus plug."

"I - what the HELL is that?!"

She giggles, clearly excited. "It's one of the early signs of labor. And it's completely normal. I've been looking forward to it!"

I shake my head. "I don't get it. I see blood. That can't be good, can it?!"

She smiles as she places her hand on my forearm, sensing my agitation.

"There's a tiny bit of blood, yes, but that's not 'bleeding'. That's barely 'spotting'. And its a sign of my cervix softening and beginning to open. Which means, hopefully, that I'll be going into labor soon."

Panic, pure and swift, slices through me. "What?! When? How soon? Do we need to get to the hospital?"

I'm already on my feet, looking for my underwear, as I hear Sandra's laughter.