Janet's Baby

As I got home from work that Friday night, Janet, my wife of six years, met me at the door with little on except for her smile.

"Guess what, Larry - we finally did it! We're pregnant!"

My mind went blank for a second, trying to absorb what Janet had just told me. Reflexively, since I wasn't ready to deal with it, I forced a smile and said "Great." When she led me to our bed and I got naked my cock remained as limp as a boiled noddle. Nothing she did could harden me in the slightest.

"What's wrong, honey," she finally moaned while she was playing with her own clit.

"I've been under so much stress at work; I am worried about my job, and now with a baby on the way I instantly feel more insecure," I lied, since everything at work had been going great.

We commiserated for a while, we got dressed, she made me my favorite meal, chicken parmesan, and we snuggled while watching a movie. I could tell that she was tense, but we didn't talk any more about it then.

The next two weeks were hell. I tried to be cheery around Janet, but she could tell that something was wrong and I don't think that she believed the stress-at-work excuse because I had had stress before but still fucked her senseless throughout it. She kept asking me if the pregnancy was the problem, and I lied that it wasn't.

***************

"What's the problem?" you might ask; some guys love to fuck pregnant women.

I probably would be in that category too; but there was something I left out in the above re-telling. I'm not capable of conceiving a child as a result of a childhood illness. I never told Janet about it before we got married - or since - even though she always talked about having kids (four or five to be exact). Yeah, that was shitty on my part; however, her cheating, getting pregnant by another guy, and they expecting me to raise a bastard child, was even shittier. At least my cock thought so since it had no interest in her.

I started dating Janet off the rebound from a guy named Alan. I never inquired about her relationship with Alan, but I was pleased when I heard that he left town shortly after Janet and I got engaged. I had recently heard - although not through Janet - that he was back in town. "Did that have anything to do with her cheating?" I wondered to myself.

***************

When I made a serious mistake at work that really would have caused me stress had not one of my friendly co-workers caught it, I realized that I needed to come to a decision, and had to have a straight talk with Janet. On one level I still loved her, but on another I couldn't stand the idea of her not only cheating but expecting me to raise another man's kid, and that was layered on top of the shitload of guilt I had in at least implicitly lying to her about me being OK with kids and not telling her about my inability to father them.

I went to see an attorney to have some documents drafted, went to see a counselor, and within three weeks of the cataclysmic announcement, I was ready to deal with the situation.

It was serendipitous that I decided to come home and have a talk with Janet on a Tuesday. I left my office shortly after noon; Tuesday was a day that Janet was almost always home the entire day since she didn't work part time that day, or have any regular activities - at least that I knew about. When I got to my house there was a strange car parked in front of it.

I went in and heard the unmistakable sounds of sex coming from my bedroom. I considered going ballistic, but after my consultations with my attorney and counselor was able to rein my anger in enough to keep from going upstairs and killing someone.

I made lots of noise, got the biggest knife that we had from the kitchen, and sat near the bottom of the stairs and waited.

Who came down the stairs about fifteen minutes later - with a completely sheepish look - Alan! The boyfriend she had broken up with just before I came on the scene.

"Uh, Larry - well, uh, it's not what it looks like..." Alan started to say.

I exposed the knife - it had to have at least a ten inch blade. "Listen, fuckstick," I hoarsely said as I cut him off. "Keep your fucking mouth shut and just listen."

"But..." he started to say; but that's all he got out. With the handle of the knife in my right hand, I hit him in the mouth with my fist. Blood spurted out as he fell back on the stairs. I put the knife blade to his throat.

"I said keep your fucking mouth shut; one more word and I will slit your throat," I said in an intentionally eerie voice.

He nodded his head.

"If I ever seen you in Janet's company again, I will kill you. If you ever enter this house again, I will kill you. If you ever contact Janet again, or take a call from her, or meet with her, I will kill you. Got it?" I deadpanned, and then made a small cut on his neck to emphasize the point.

He vigorously nodded his head "Yes!"

I pulled him to his feet by his tie and escorted him out the front door, pushing him hard through the doorway, so that he fell. He got up running to his car. Of course I wasn't stupid or cold-blooded enough to actually kill him in the future, but based upon his reaction I don't think that he was ever going to take the chance.

I cleaned Alan's blood off the knife, washed my hands, put the knife away, and sat near the bottom of the stairs waiting for Janet.

She must have heard some commotion, because when Janet got to the bottom of the stairs, fully dressed, she was wide-eyed. She looked furtively around.

"Alan's not here and I didn't kill or maim him," I told her in a calm voice. "However, just so you know, if he ever contacts or sees you again, I will kill him."

She obviously wanted to say something but I pre-empted that by saying "We need to have a discussion, Janet. Let's sit at the kitchen table."

"OK," was her only, hesitant, response.

We sat at the table, opposite each other. "Janet I at least implicitly lied to you about something very important to you. I never wanted kids, I still don't, and I led you to believe that I did just to get you to marry me because I loved you so much. I foolishly thought that after we had been man and wife for several years that you would no longer want them; I was stupid and wrong."

"What..." she started to say.

I interrupted her. "Please let me finish; this is the worst day of my life, but I need to be heard before you say anything."

She nodded her head.

I continued. "I also lied to you about my ability to have kids; I've known since I was a teenager that because of a childhood illness I could never father a child. The reason I wasn't excited when you told me that you were pregnant was because you had to have cheated on me to get pregnant. Today I found out that it was Alan. You should have married him; it would have saved us the grief that we're now going to experience."

She started sobbing. "You fucking lied to me!" Then she screamed "How could you about something so important to me?"

"Why didn't you tell me that you wanted to have a kid so badly that we should investigate artificial insemination if it wasn't working with me? Why did you have to fuck a guy I dislike to get your baby, and then continue fucking him after you got pregnant, and decide to let me raise his bastard child?" I responded, trying not to scream although my voice was raised.

"I only continued fucking him because being pregnant has made me horny as hell and you obviously have no interest in sex with me anymore. I shouldn't have cheated, and you shouldn't have lied," she screamed and then started sobbing.

I just sat there waiting for her tears to subside. In about ten minutes she looked up at me with circles under her eyes.

"Here are some papers I need your signature on..." I started to say before she screamed "You're just going to divorce me flat out!"

I interrupted her and held her hands. "That's not what's in the envelope; that's not what's in there." I squeezed her hands.

She slightly regained her composure. "What is in there?" she asked.

"These are documents saying that for there to be any money removed from any of our accounts except for a checking account for you and one for me, both parties have to sign. They also say that one-half of my paycheck will automatically be deposited in your checking account and one-half in mine. We will each have to pay one-half the mortgage, utilities, and insurance for the house out of it, and for our own car expenses and food. Take it to a lawyer and have him or her look it over; I need you to sign by Friday," I said with as little emotion as I could.

"What about us," she sobbed, "is this just a precursor to divorce? What about our baby?"

Her "our baby" statement instantly boiled my blood, but I held it together.

"We both need to think about this for a month. Then we'll sit down and talk. Right now I see absolutely no way that I can stay with you, or ever trust you - and you have no reason to ever trust me again, either. Our relationship is broken beyond repair as far as I can tell, but we should both think about it for a month and then decide. If you require it I promise to stay around until after the baby is born, but there is no way on earth that I'm raising someone else's child," I replied.

She went hysterical. I was worried about her. I called her OB/GYN and told her about the hysteria. I was told to bring Janet into the doctor's office immediately. I doubt that Janet knew what was going on - she mumbled a few half-intelligible questions as we drove to the doctor's office.

When we got to the doctor's office, a nurse immediately escorted Janet into an examination room. While the nurse comforted her, I gave the doctor a very short synopsis of the situation; she looked stunned. "Please go to the waiting room, Mr. Santee; I'll call you if you're needed."

A half hour later the doctor came into the waiting room and escorted me to her office. "I've given Janet a sedative that is safe for pregnant women. She badly needs psychiatric counseling. Here is a sheet listing the names - in alphabetically order - of six local psychiatrists that I am personally familiar with and trust, and who are experienced in dealing with pregnant women and post-partum depression. You need to get her to see one of them as soon as possible."

"Can I leave her at home alone when I work?" I asked.

"Not today or tomorrow, but you should be able to Thursday. However you must contact the psychiatrist of your choice, or who has the quickest opening, today."

Janet was barely able to put one foot in front of the other as I took her to the car, brought her to our bedroom, and laid her down. Thank goodness she had changed the sheets and put the old ones in the hamper because I don't know what I would have done if she hadn't.

Janet was aware enough to eat a simple dinner, sat almost comatose in front of the TV for a few hours afterward, and then with my help went to bed for the night. "Aren't you coming to bed?" she asked when I started walking out our bedroom door.

"I'm sorry, I won't be sleeping in that bed again," I said - matter-of-factly, not angrily.

Janet was still too drugged to start sobbing, but I did hear groans and sniffles as I slowly exited what formerly had been our bedroom.

Janet was morose but functioning the rest of the week. Friday, she presented me with the signed documents that I had requested, and I gave her the checkbook for her new account, which already had one half of my last paycheck in it.

I found it hard to interact with Janet. At first she made attempts to get me back into our bed and to try to have sex. Although I never raised my voice I shut down each attempt. One night when she started crying over it I said something that was from my heart - but in retrospect clearly cruel. "Look, you can go and fuck anyone you want except for Alan, but it isn't going to be me. Just don't do it in this house."

That almost brought about another hysterical episode.

When a month went by Janet said that she needed more time to think before we decided what to do. She asked for another extension after a second month. In the third month - and now she was really starting to show - at work I got a call from her shrink.

"Mr. Santee, this is Dr. Bernice Hardy, your wife's psychiatrist."

"Yes, I know who you are," I replied.

"Mr. Santee, it is very important that we meet and talk about your wife."

"Why is that?"

"There are some very serious things going on in her head; I cannot tell you how important it is that we meet," Dr. Hardy said in a completely no-nonsense tone.

"I can't get off of work..." I started to say.

"I want to meet you tonight; seven o'clock if possible. I can meet you somewhere else, but it would be better if you came to my office," she shot back.

"OK...I can do that," I responded.

"Please call Janet and tell her that you are going bowling - anything except coming to see me - but tell her you won't be home until eight or nine o'clock. Please," she pled.

"OK," I responded, and called Janet and told her I was bowling and wouldn't be home until about nine.

Dr. Hardy looked exactly like what I imagined a shrink would look like. She could have been cast in that part in a movie. She wasn't overly friendly, but not haughty either. She was, however, straightforward.

"Because of doctor patient confidentiality, Mr. Santee, I can't tell you any specifics of what Janet and I have talked about. But I do need to apprise you of something that is serious and real. Unless you provide Janet some hope about a relationship after the baby is born, she will kill herself - and of course her child along with it," Dr. Hardy said.

"What?" was my intelligent response. "I've never known her to be that weak of a person; and besides, how can I tell her that when it's not true."

"Your lies got you into this mess," she spat back. "Now you need to lie a while longer so that she doesn't end her life. Once she has the baby, she will have another being to focus on and your loss won't kill her. This was the time in her life that she imagined - ever since she was a little girl - that she would be the happiest, and instead it's a nightmare." Then after a pause she continued: "It's blowing her mind!"

That was hardly a precise medical term, but it did make the point.

I talked to the good doctor for more than an hour. I knew that she was serious when she made it clear that she wasn't charging me for the visit but rather was doing it to save two lives. Except for her initial outburst to get my attention, she did not make any attempt to call either of us more culpable than the other. She just wanted to temporarily resolve the situation so that her patient and baby would live.

I asked her about having Janet committed. She told me that in view of the strict laws relating to involuntary committal, Janet would be able to weasel out of it within a short period of time, and then would feel betrayed and certainly go through with it.

Dr. Hardy's final words weren't comforting, conciliatory, or pleading. "Man up; think about two other lives instead of her betrayal. If six months after the baby is born you can't take it, divorce her then - she'll be able to handle it. If you don't give her hope now, however, two deaths will forever be on your conscience, and if that happens I guarantee you that your present shitty situation will seem like utopia!"

I did some real soul-searching the next few days after my meeting with Dr. Hardy. Immediately after it I started trying to interact with Janet a little more, and I could see signs that even to my layman's eyes indicated that Dr. Hardy knew her business. A week after I had met with Dr. Hardy I came home early from work, and took Janet to her favorite restaurant - the first time that we had gone out together since "that day." I tried to keep the conversation light. She seemed to perk up quite a bit by the time that we got back home.

When we did get back home, I sat with her on the couch in the living room.

"Janet, we really need to talk and resolve our issues, at least temporarily. How about this Saturday morning? I'll make blueberry pancakes and then we can sit down, OK?"

I saw her hesitating. "Please? From my perspective, I don't think that it will be as bad as you think that it will be...Please."

"OK," she replied, with a slight smile.

Janet was so nervous Saturday morning that despite her enhanced appetite due to her pregnancy, and despite blueberry pancakes being her favorite breakfast, she ate only one. I pretended not to notice.

I started out the conversation, holding her hands as we sat next to each other on the couch. "Janet; I've been thinking; why don't we see what happens after the baby is born. Maybe we'll have a better perspective on things then."

"Do you mean it?" she asked, lighting up.

"Yes...yes I do. I hope you understand that I will not be a doting father, but why don't we just see what happens."

She levitated her big body into my arms and kissed me fervently.

I guess that I shouldn't have been surprised considering what Dr. Hardy had told me; but I was. That little ray of hope was all that Janet needed to snap out of the dark pall that had enveloped her.

She assumed a lot more than I wanted to give, but seeing her change of mood I found myself going along with some things that I didn't believe that I would. For one, she talked me into going back into our bed after she made a point of telling me that the old mattress was too saggy and that she had gotten a new one, and all new sheets too.

After we slept together for a week, she tried to get me sexually aroused. While I let her play with my dick and balls, it was just not going to happen. I did suck on her tits and finger her, and even used a dildo on her on occasion, but it really didn't do much for me. She did have a surprise for me, however, after I brought her to orgasm with a vibrator one night.

As she was laying her head on my shoulder she said "Larry; I want you to know two things, both of which will show you how much I love you."

"OK..." I replied.

"I have not had sex with anyone since 'that day' and will not have sex with anyone else except you, no matter how long it takes for you to want to have sex with me again."

That was nice to hear, but not completely unexpected. The next part was.

"I know how horny you must be. I would be OK with - no, it's more than that. I want you to have sex with other women until I'm desirable to you again. Just please be sure not to get any diseases that I might get when you eventually take me back."

I was flabbergasted. I lifted her head up off my shoulder and peered into her eyes; bright moonlight was streaming through our bedroom skylight so I could see them. Her eyes, mouth, indeed her entire face, showed resolve. She wasn't kidding. "You're serious, aren't you?" I rhetorically asked.

"Yes. Yes, I am," she purposefully replied.

I lay back down with her head on my shoulder. "I can set you up with two women that we know if it's too hard for you after being out of practice all these years," was her next startling comment.

"Who?" I inquired.

"Sybil Bronti and Charlotte Danner," she matter-of-factly replied.

Sybil Bronti lives about a block from us. She is a divorcee three years older than I am who most women hate because she is a fox and by reputation has no scruples about fucking other women's husbands. My wife is one of the few neighborhood women who gets along with her, in the past probably because Janet was confident that I would never succumb to her charms, and despite allegedly being a cock-hound she has other good qualities.

Charlotte Danner is about ten years older than I am and someone who used to be a teaching assistant where Janet went to college, who Janet became friendly with at that time, and who she has maintained a friendship with. I thought for sure that Charlotte was a closet lesbian because despite the fact that she has mammoth tits, a beautiful face, a thin waist, and seemingly six foot long sculptured legs, I had never seen her with a date; in fact I never even saw her flirt with a guy (although I never knew her or Janet in college).