Little Packages Ch. 13

"And what's the solution?" I asked, walking over to run my hands over her belly as well. It was an amazing thing. Our kid was right there, just waiting to make their debut. The ultrasound was inconclusive, but Kitten was adamant it was a girl. We had a shortlist of boy and girl names, but she insisted the boy names wouldn't be needed.

"Well, you need to fuck me. Obviously."

I laughed.

"That tends to be your solution anytime we have a problem. 'Fridge not working; let's fuck,'" I said. I got an elbow to the ribs for my troubles.

"I'm serious. We toss the go bag in the car, and then we go into the bedroom, have a few orgasms, you cum in me - all of which is supposed to help speed things along - then we hop in the car and head into Kingston. If it works, we're in town and you're not freaking out about the drive. We get out of the house for a few hours if it doesn't. You got anything better to do on a Sunday, Daddy?"

As Kitten plans went, it was pretty well thought out. I'm not sure if the birth process worked quite like that, but I didn't see the harm in trying. We were also both horny and once she gave birth, it would be weeks before we could fuck again. We'd have to see what kind of mental toll the spawn would take on our sex life at that point too.

"Ok, that sounds good to me," I said. Kitten gave me a look to see if I was making fun of her. When she saw I was serious, she quickly waddled out of the room.

By the time I followed her out, she was coming out of our bedroom with the go bag filled with toiletries, a change of clothing and other items. She tossed it to me.

"Put that in the car and then come back to the bedroom. I'll be waiting for you," she said, shooting me a seductive look. I could take the hint. I limped out to the car, put the bag in the backseat, and then came back into the house. I stripped off my shirt as I went and then entered the bedroom.

What I saw was Kitten with her feet on the ground, her top half resting on a pillow on the bed, and her ass sticking out towards me. She had conceded taking her shirt off so she was now naked.

"Woo, seduce me, baby," I said in a deadpan tone.

She leveraged herself off the bed, turned to face me and gave me an aggrieved glare.

"Look, I love our seductions and elaborate play, but sometimes a girl just needs to get laid," she said. "So why don't you come on over and give it to your little girl."

I ignored her and got on the bed. She gave me a despairing look.

"Are you in that big of a hurry? Come on, hop on board, Kitten," I said, patting my hip. The thought of sex for the first time in a few weeks got me hard quickly enough. And while she lamented how she looked, I thought she was hot as fuck, and she knew it.

All those times I was screaming about wanting to breed her wasn't just a power thing; I always knew she'd look incredibly sexy when pregnant.

"First, I am in a hurry. I want her out. And second, we're going to need a forklift to get me on top of you and then I'll probably crush you to death," she whined.

"I have 50 pounds on you, at least, so you're not crushing me to death. And if you're on top of me, I can play with your tits and clit. Stronger orgasms that way," I said. She wavered, but the better orgasms were swaying her. "Look, if you get uncomfortable, you can resume your previous position and I'll bang away at you like you're a glory hole on two legs."

"Asshole," she said, but laughed. I helped her as she ungracefully crawled onto the bed. After a few adjustments and laughs, Kitten was on top and slowly dropped down on my cock.

"Oh God, I can't believe I have to go six weeks after birth before being allowed to have this again," she sighed. I didn't have the heart to tell her that she'd be likely too exhausted to want to have sex.

"Well, you can still give me blowjobs while we wait," I said. I slid a hand under Kitten's belly and found her clit. The other hand gently tweaked her nipples. This wasn't going to be the high-energy affair we usually engaged in.

"If I'm cut off, you're cut off," she moaned. She was already switching from banter to focussing on what her body was feeling. I decided that was a good idea and grabbed a pillow. A slight tilt forward and I gently suckled on her nipples.

She moaned again and ground herself against my fingers, my cock gently sliding back and forth inside her soaking wet pussy. It felt good to me, especially after weeks of celibacy. But for Kitten, it was working magic, with her face getting more flushed and breathing coming in gasps.

"Ohhh, just like that, Daddy. Just like that, oh I'm close, I'm close," she gasped, scrunching up her face. She moved her hips forcefully, trying to find the edge and get over it.

"Come for your Daddy, little girl," I said, then took one of her nipples in my mouth and gave it a little nip. That did the trick.

"Ohhhhhhh, God. Yessssss," she hissed out, relieved to have the orgasm finally crest and wash over her.

She placed her hands on my chest to keep her balance while she caught her breath. Then she grimaced.

"You ok?" I asked, wondering if this was it.

"Yeah, just a cramp in my leg," she said, rubbing her left leg. I was about to suggest we could stop if she wanted when she continued. "I think I might feel more comfortable in the first position if that's ok with you, Daddy."

"Of course, little girl," I said, helping her shift off of me. We then repositioned her so that her top was lying on the bed and she was standing on the floor. I stood behind her and ran my hands over her ass.

"Nothing little about me anymore," she said, sounding a bit sad.

"You're always going to be my little girl," I said, kissing the back of her head.

"Good," she said, and then added in her little girl voice, "Now give it to me, Daddy. It might be our last time for a while. Let's make it count."

"As you wish," I said and then slid my cock into her from behind. I didn't slam it into her as hard as I usually did, but I did manage to lift her onto her toes and make her grunt.

"Oh yeah, that's what I need, Daddy. Riding you was fun, but I need a good fucking. Come on, give it to me," she said.

Well, it's not like I could ever say no to her. I slapped her ass and then picked up the pace, fucking her as she wanted. I reminded myself this all started as a way to induce labor. Delicate and gentle wasn't the point.

"Daddy's little whore all knocked up," I said, slapping her on the ass again. She gasped and wiggled her ass, encouraging more.

"I've been a bad girl, Daddy. I forgot my pills and got knocked up," she said, slamming her ass back into me as I thrust into her.

"Careless slut," I said, slapping her other cheek.

"Yes, Daddy. I'm so fucking careless. Keep punishing me!" she cried out.

It went on like that for a few more minutes, I called her names and Kitten agreed with me. Finally, we were both getting close. I did shorter, quicker, harder strokes.

"Oh fuck, Daddy!"

"Are you going to be a good girl and take your pills so this doesn't happen again?" I growled, not expecting an answer.

"No, Daddy. I'm never taking pills ever again. I want you to keep breeding me again and again and.....oh Fuck!" she screamed, cumming hard. Feeling her orgasm was enough to send me over the edge and cried out, pumping my cum into her.

As the stars flashed in front of my eyes and I could feel my legs wobble, I dimly thought, "She meant that. Christ, how many kids are we going to have?"

Kitten was still out of it and starting to slide off the bed. I got my wits together and gently pushed her back on the bed on her side until she could think straight. I then sat down on the bed next to her and ran my fingers through her hair. I realized that however many kids she wanted, I would be happy as long as they were even a little bit as smart, funny, kind, and amazing as their mother.

She opened her eyes. She saw me looking at her and smiled.

"What?"

"Just thinking how much I love you, that's all," I said.

"Well, you better. We're kinda committed," Kitten said, running her hands along her belly. "That was fucking amazing but didn't seem to knock her loose."

"Oh well. We'll just have to try again, I guess," I said, meant in a joking way. Kitten pushed herself into a sitting position, smiled at me and then kissed me.

"I like the way you think, Daddy. But for now, let's get out of here. I do need a change of scenery and I'm craving something from Mio Gelato," she said, naming her favourite frozen treat place in town.

The drive into Kingston was uneventful. I kept glancing at her to see if anything would happen, but Kitten just shrugged her shoulders. "I guess she's happy where she is for the moment."

After procuring a cup of tiramisu gelato, Kitten just wanted to drive around downtown for a bit and take in the sights. It was a nice weekend and there were lots of people out and about. I suggested going for a walk along the waterfront. There were plenty of benches if she got tired, but she felt self-conscious about walking around when she was so pregnant. It tended to draw a lot of attention and strangers wanting to touch her belly.

So we drove around and chatted.

"I'm just saying, a hotel room near the hospital isn't the worst idea in the world. Can you imagine me trying to deliver a baby on the side of the road or something?" I said.

She laughed. "It's not like my water is going to break and she's going to come firing out of me like a missile, Daddy. We'll have plenty of ti---ow," she said, grabbing her stomach.

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah. She either loves the gelato or it payback for the sex earlier. She's been doing a little dance the last 10 minutes or so. I'm fine," she said.

I looked over at her and was about to ask if she was sure when the car banged hard into a pothole that I missed because I was looking at her. I jerked my eyes back to the road to pay attention.

"Goddamn potholes. How hard is it to keep the roads paved in this fucking town," I grumbled and realized for a moment I sounded like a grumpy old man. I was about to make a joke about it when she interrupted.

"Uhhhhh, Daddy...."

"Yes, Kitten?" I said, keeping my eyes on the road. Having a car accident would be a deeply stupid thing.

"I might have pissed myself, which isn't impossible given my bladder control lately, but I'm pretty sure my water just broke."

"What?!"

"Yup, she said, reaching underneath her sundress and checking. "The secret formula was orgasms, gelato, and then hitting a big damn pothole. You should probably take me to the hospital now."

"Oh, Holy Fuck," I said, quickly followed by me asking Siri for directions to the hospital. I knew exactly where the hospital was, but I needed a calm, authoritative voice telling me where to go and what to do.

Most of the drive to the hospital involved the air in the car turning blue with the two of us taking turns saying things like "Oh holy fuck" and "You're going to be a fucking daddy for real," and "this is fucking happening." We weren't freaking out....well, we were freaking out a bit, but it was mostly laughter and disbelief. We were finally going to become parents.

The funny thing about when a woman's water breaks is that things either start going in motion very quickly, or they take their time. It turns out our kid was in no rush. Once we got to the hospital and had Kitten admitted, not much of anything happened for the next few hours. Nurses came by, checked in, smiled but didn't reveal much of anything. Kitten was getting deeply bored and frustrated and watched Tim Tok videos to kill time.

I texted all the usual suspects, who were excited. Meg sent me an odd note, wondering how long it would be.

"No idea, they're not saying much about the timeline, but our doctor hasn't shown up yet, so it'll probably be a while," I texted back.

"Well, ask if she can hold on until after midnight. If she goes at 12:01 I win the betting pool on the baby's due date," she replied.

I closed my eyes and sighed. I was prepping a response when Kitten asked what was up. I relayed the information to her.

"Oh fuck that. Get the nurses and tell them I want a c-section right now," she said.

"Well, I don't think it'll come to that," said a voice from the door. Our obstetrician finally arrived. Dr. Roy was an Indo-Canadian woman in her early 30s with a warm smile and instantly made Kitten feel at ease. She has been responsible for all the pre-natal check-ups, getting us set up in classes, and not once had judged the age difference between us. She came over, gave Kitten a small hug and then looked at a chart and some of the machines monitoring vital stats.

"Well, at least she's pretty punctual. Only a couple of days early. We'll take it. Anything in particular jar her loose?" she asked. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't say the baby's gender for sure on the ultrasound but had started calling the baby she, assuming Kitten knew what she was talking about. I was the lone, stubborn hold-out on the possibility it could be a boy.

"Well, it might have been the big damn pothole. Or perhaps she wanted out to try some of the gelato I was eating. And a couple of hours before, well..." Kitten said, blushing a bit.

Dr. Roy just grinned. "Nothing like shaking her loose the old fashion way," she said. Then she clapped her hands together. "Well, let's meet her, shall we?"

"What?" Kitten and I said together. Dr. Roy just nodded and grinned.

"The nurses are going to get you prepped and wheel you into the delivery room. Ben, this nurse will get you all dressed up. We'll meet you there. In less than an hour you'll get to meet your daughter."

If I was shocked, Kitten looked like she might faint as reality hit her with full force. I bent over the bed and kissed her on the head. Her hand found mine and squeezed...hard.

"It's going to be fine. Dr. Roy has got you and I'll be right there with you, ok?" I said. Dr. Roy took that moment to talk to a nurse and give us some space.

"Ok, Daddy. I love you."

"I love you too. See you in a few minutes," I said. I stood up to leave. Kitten held my hand a moment longer, and then let go.

After we got married, Kitten told me that much of our wedding day was a blur to her. She'd been warned it would be a blur, and she was still surprised by how much of it just blew past her. If it hadn't been for Michelle's photos she wouldn't have remembered a lot.

Having been married before, I was ready for that, so I could better prepare for the day.

But this was our first kid. Once I walked into the delivery room and saw Kitten in the stirrups, time did a deep blurring motion. I sat next to her, held her hand, and kept telling her she was amazing. We agreed I wouldn't tell her to breathe by mutual consent.

I honestly couldn't say how long we were there. Dr. Roy told me it was a textbook smooth birth. Kitten told me it felt like she was trying to push a refrigerator out of her. I briefly considered asking for an x-ray to see if Kitten had broken my hand until I could feel it again.

But at the end of it, there was one last yell from Kitten and then a tiny voice began crying.

"Welcome to the world, little miss," Dr. Roy said, cutting her umbilical cord. "Looks like you were right, Kit. You have a healthy baby girl."

The nurse took the baby and put it on Kitten's chest. The baby immediately settled down and Kitten began crying.

"Look what we did," she said, looking at me.

I looked at the baby. I'd always rolled my eyes a bit over the way some people oohed and ahhed over babies. I thought they looked like Winston Churchill. I made that joke once and got death glares. But now I looked at my daughter and thought she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

She still looked like Winston Churchill, but more beautiful and with red hair.

An hour later, when Kitten was recovering and the baby was sleeping I texted Meg.

"Time of birth, 10:37 pm," I wrote.

"Goddamn it," she replied, but with a smiley face emoji. "Everything ok?"

"Mother and daughter are both doing great and resting," I wrote, and sent her a picture.

"Oh my God, she's adorable. She looks just like Kit. Thank god. I'll be there tomorrow. Does she have a name yet?"

"Her name is Barbara," I replied.

****

(18 years later)

"Daaaad! Can you make mom hurry up! We're going to be late," Barbara whined to me as I walked into the living room.

I grinned, which didn't help matters.

"Nothing in the last 20 years with your mom leads me to believe I have that particular superpower, Babs," I said. "She'll be ready when she's ready."

This was not an acceptable answer to my eldest daughter on her graduation day. She was already in her gown and wearing kitten heels to give her a few extra inches to compensate for her short stature. Her auburn hair was just past her shoulders. She pushed her glasses up her nose and scowled at me. Not for the first time she reminded me of her mother when she was unhappy with my answer.

"It's not a good look when the valedictorian is late for her graduation, dad. Can you get her to hurry up? Please?" she asked. And again, much like her mom, I had almost no willpower to say no to her.

"I'll go and talk to her," I said and glanced at my watch. With SmartGlasses almost nobody wore watches anymore, but it was an old-fashioned quirk that my family indulged. "But I'll remind you that it's a 20-minute drive to your school and it's over an hour until the ceremony starts. You'll be lucky if she's had her shower yet."

"Just do what you can," she said, and then turned, left the living room and ran upstairs, probably to practice her speech again.

"Wow, she's more stressed out than normal," Stephanie said. She was coming from outside bouncing a soccer ball on her foot. I'd long since lost the battle over asking her not to bounce the ball in the house.

"It's her graduation day," I said to my 16-year-old daughter. "You might be a little stressed on that day in a few years."

Steph went over to the kitchen island, put her foot on top of the ball to hold it in place, grabbed an apple, and smirked. Her hair was cut short, bleached blonde and had a blue streak. Her team all decided to do it after they won a recent tournament. She was also in her school's blue soccer uniform. Steph had a reason to smirk at the notion of getting stressed over something so minor as school. She had an almost supernatural ability not to get stressed out. It wasn't that she didn't care; she cared a lot. She just processed it, focussed, and moved past it.

Except for her sisters, of course. Sisters always know what buttons to press.

"I assume mom is running in her own time zone again," she asked. I nodded.

"I wouldn't get too cocky. You need time to go and change as well."

She looked at herself in one of the living room windows and gave me a bewildered look.

"What? I look great. Besides, I have practice after the ceremony. This saves time," she said.

"Nice try," I said, giving her a look that indicated I wasn't falling for it. "I've seen you get ready for a game in under one minute. Go upstairs, change into something presentable, and try to chill your sister out."

"Daaaaad," she said. I swear my daughters were competing to see who could drag my name out the longest.

"Do it, or I'll call Cassie home and give her permission to dress you up like a Barbie doll," I said.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa....no need to go hardcore. I'm going, I'm going," Steph said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. Then she bounced effortlessly up the stairs. Neither Kit nor I were jocks, so we have no idea where her athletic ability came from. But she was already 5'8" and still growing. She got her height from me so our theory was at some point I could have been a jock if my dad wasn't so insistent on my studies.