Love in the Age of Chemicals Ch. 07

"Miranda, I don't understand," I said, raising my voice and speaking slowly. "Why do you need to drop out? What happened?"

She paused, wiping tears and looking at me in frustration. Throwing her arms down in exasperation, she shouted, "I'm pregnant, Deke! Probably from New Year's Eve... or that shower we took on New Year's Day. The antibiotics overrode my birth control. I wasn't thinking and I screwed everything up! I'm so, so, so-so-so sorry."

"Pregnant," I whispered in shock.

"So I can finish this semester, I guess," she began, speaking rapidly. "But I'm due in September... again... so the fall semester is out of the question. But even if I took summer classes before that and then a full load in the spring, there's no way I could graduate in May. And I don't know how I could take classes anyway once there's a baby, because Isa said they have to be at least six months old before her childcare co-op will watch them. And I just can't bear the thought of giving up another baby, even to an awesome family. And Gina said they can't take any more kids now that they're up to five. But I couldn't do it anyway, it would just break my heart all over again, Deke. But I'm not assuming I can stay here once I'm out of school, I get that. But I don't have a plan yet, that's what I'm trying to say. And I've been talking to..."

The whole time she was rambling on, my eyes were drawn to her belly -- to that magical place where new life was forming even as we spoke. I moved across the couch and knelt on the floor next to Miranda.

"Deke... what're you doing, Deke?" Miranda asked nervously.

I slowly reached out my hand and rested it right above her scar, wishing her shirt wasn't keeping my skin from hers. "Our baby... is in here right now?" I asked.

Miranda took my wrist and lowered my hand a bit. "More like here, Mr. Science," she said wryly. Her expression was hesitant and confused. Mine was just sheer amazement.

"Right now, it's growing in there," I commented. "Cells are dividing, DNA is replicating, vital systems are taking shape. And your..." I glanced up at her face and laughed from sheer excitement, "your amazing, incredible body is giving it everything it needs. Protecting it. Nourishing it. It... it's beautiful!" I could barely contain my elation. Miranda gasped as I leaned in and kissed where my hand had just been. "And you'll keep growing," I went on. "Your body will adjust and make room for that new life. Our baby. That we made. When we shared a special, perfect moment together." I moved my hands up along her belly. "You will be so beautiful," I assured her. "Like in that picture from three years ago. I wanted to touch the woman in that picture -- she was radiant with life. And you'll look that way again."

Miranda giggled nervously, still wiping her tears. "Deke, you are taking this pretty well."

"And these," I said, lightly touching her breasts through her shirt. "These beautiful orbs will produce all the nourishment our baby will need after being born. I can... Oh, Miranda, I can see it. I can see you holding her to your chest, your hair tickling her face as she feeds."

"Her?"

"I don't know," I said, staring at Miranda's chest. "It just came out that way."

Then straightening up, I climbed onto the couch next to her. "Miranda... this is... this is amazing. This is nothing to apologize for."

"You say that now, Deke, but once you have time to think about it, you'll understand. A baby should be something you plan, not something that happens in the midst of all the confusion and uncertainty we're in right now."

I shook my head. "No confusion," I said. "Not like before."

"What do you mean, Deke?"

"I mean... I'm ready to acknowledge the point that we had in all practicality arrived at already. We're married, Miranda, at first only on paper, and then only for show, but this is what I want. You are what I want. That idea frightens me. It frightens me so much."

"And that's why you've been ignoring me?"

I sighed. "No, there's more." I went on to tell her about being rejected for funding and of the maelstrom of emotions and fears that had consumed me when my professional pride was injured and my career prospects seemed threatened. I told her about my attempt to reclaim the time when my life made more sense and seemed more under control. She listened well, asking questions to help her understand my state of mind. In the end, I apologized again for treating her so poorly.

"To be honest, Miranda, I was never more content than when we were going about our routine last month. Just living and working together in peace. And if I'd known there was a baby growing inside you that whole time... I would have been more than just content."

At the mention of the baby, Miranda, who had smiled at the memory of the previous month, looked sad again. "There are still so many questions, Deke. I mean, this affects my whole plan. I don't know when I'll be able to graduate, and I can't keep invading your life indefinitely."

"Aren't you listening to me?" I chided her. "I'm done pretending. This isn't about your tuition anymore, or about convincing other people. This is the real thing now."

"You say that now, but I'm scared that eventually you'll backtrack and say it was all just chemicals. Just 'the evolutionarily programmed male response to a successful breeding' or something like that. You're high on dopamine right now, and when that wears off, you might think differently."

"Miranda, I came to this conclusion two nights ago. I knew for sure back then that I want you here for more than just appearances."

She sighed and bit her lip. "Oh Deke, I really want that to be true, but my heart just... my brain is just experiencing the reaction associated with fear," she said mockingly.

"Well, I don't know what else I can..." I started, then remembered something. "Oh wait. Stay right there," I instructed her.

I went to the laundry room and opened the door. Then I walked back to the living room. Miranda looked at me curiously, especially when she heard the jingling sound that followed me. I knew she had seen the first part of my gift when her eyes widened in shock. I picked up the animal and handed it to her.

"You got a puppy?!" she squeaked.

"You said you always wanted one."

"But a puppy? In this house?" she asked. "You know dogs make a mess of everything, right?"

"Yes, I'm aware of that," I assured her. "That's the point, actually. Being... in..." I sighed. "Being in love with you is something that will force me to change a lot. It messes up my world, over and over again. And I'm choosing that. I'm choosing you."

"Aww, Puppy," she said, laughing when she realized the confusion her nickname for me might create.

"Besides," I added, "I was going to use this as an excuse to keep you around after you graduate. Because you couldn't just abandon the dog. And I would refuse to give up custody."

"But my little surprise changed that?" she noted, putting her hand to her belly.

"Yes, it did," I agreed. "And it sort of preempted part two of my surprise for you... on his collar." Miranda quickly grabbed the collar and found the diamond engagement ring. Her features melted. "To replace the fake one you've been wearing," I explained. "And I'd like to replace the fake wedding band, too. Real rings... for a real wife."

"Oh my God," Miranda laughed as the puppy licked her face. "What an evening!"

"Not the discussion either of us had planned, I think." And Miranda simply shook her head.

As Miranda played with the puppy, trying out name after name, we planned our future. Or rather, we began discussing options for the future. What to do about Miranda's schooling, childcare options, furniture rearranging, where to put the puppy, when and if to have a wedding ceremony, and anything else that came to mind. Every now and then I had the nagging thought that I should be seeing to my research. But I learned to quiet those thoughts with one touch to the belly that would soon swell with my child.

*******

Inevitably, the excitement of our newly established relationship gave way to another kind of excitement. I knew pregnancy would change many things in our relationship, but I wasn't sure how many things.

"Miranda... while you're pregnant, can we still..."

"Yes," she smiled. "You can still give me all the back rubs and leg rubs and foot rubs in the world! And I'm gonna need them. I have to warn you, I'm a pretty needy pregnant woman. And this time I have a man to go through it with me."

"No... I was asking..."

"And yes, silly," she rolled her eyes, "we can still have sex. I'm not that fragile... yet. We might need to use different positions once Junior starts making his presence obvious, but the doctor last time told me sex was OK up until labor, unless he tells us otherwise. Not that I got to make any use of that knowledge last time."

I sighed in relief. It had been seven weeks since we had been intimate. Despite my conviction that I could return to the lifestyle I had led before meeting Miranda, I had not fared well during my self-imposed sexual exile from my wife. After speaking with Andrew, I thought I was beginning to understand why.

"Would you be OK with going to bed now?" I asked, shifting anxiously in my seat.

"Only if we won't be sleeping," she replied, standing up and carrying the puppy to the laundry room. "Good night, Doctor Fuzzyface," she whispered.

"Doctor Fuzzyface?" I asked as we walked through the kitchen and towards our bedroom.

"Yeah, I think that will be his name," she said confidently.

"Does it matter to you that calling him a doctor demeans the value of my Ph.D.?"

"Awww... don't get jealous," she teased. "I'm sure you'll get tenure before Dr. Fuzzyface does."

"I think I will just call him 'the dog.'" I remarked, putting my hand on her lower back and guiding her into our bedroom.

"He won't answer to that," she asserted, turning around and quickly touching her lips to mine.

"Well, you're just going to confuse me and him whenever you say 'Puppy,'" I stated, gripping her elbows to keep her close.

"He doesn't understand English, Deke," Miranda replied with a serious expression, beginning to unbutton my shirt. "Don't be silly."

"I'm not the one who keeps talking to the dog," I pointed out, slipping my hands under her shirt and holding her sides. I closed my eyes as my stomach fluttered with the sensation of touching her skin again. I began trembling as I thought about what was happening in the space between my hands, deep inside her. She said she wasn't fragile, but I feared doing anything to harm the life growing inside her.

"Do I get to sleep in the big bed tonight?" Miranda whispered, putting her face against mine and closing her eyes.

"Tonight and every night, Darling," I answered, feeling even happier than I had when I first bought the bed.

She giggled and raised her shoulders for a moment. "It doesn't feel real," she sighed. "I didn't think it would go this way." As she spoke, she began backing up towards the bed, pulling me with her. Just before she fell back onto the bed, she pulled her shirt off. Then rolling backward, she slipped her shorts and panties off, tossing them towards the bathroom.

"Didn't think what would go this way? Tonight? Or getting married in the first place?" I asked, curious as to when she had begun to consider our marriage as having the potential for more than its intended purpose.

"Neither... both... whatever," she answered, wiggling backwards until her head was at the pillows. Then she slipped her feet under the covers and followed them with the rest of her body.

"I don't know," I replied, pushing my pants to the floor along with my briefs, then climbing in after her. The sheets felt almost too cool to the touch, driving me even more urgently towards Miranda's warmth. "I suspected a few times that you had this ending in mind from the start. That the tuition excuse was a convenient way to trick me into marrying you, and that you've been manipulating me ever since."

"You give us both too much credit, Puppy," she laughed, spreading her legs as I climbed over her. "I'm not that devious. And you... well... Let's just say, I love you dearly with all my heart, but I was not interested -- romantically at least -- in the Dr. Kirsch of a year ago." Then reaching between us and taking my erection in her hand, she squeezed it gently and lined it up with her entrance. As her other hand brushed through my hair, she said, "I'm OK skipping foreplay tonight, since that seems to be the direction you're heading."

"I can make it up to you later," I promised.

"You will," she assured me. She wiggled my tip through her folds, which were beginning to feel wet with arousal. Then I felt the unmistakable warmth of her entrance on my tip, and Miranda pulled her hand away slowly. "Go ahead, Baby," she encouraged me.

I pushed in a little bit, hesitant, still worried about hurting her or the baby. But Miranda pushed up along with me. It took a few nudges before I was securely inside her, and I felt the tight ring of muscles around her entrance gripping the middle of my shaft. Pulling out again until only my tip was not exposed, I pressed down firmly, slipping my arms under Miranda as she arched her back in response.

Once we were fully joined, I spoke softly in her ear, "What has changed to make me so different now than I was then?"

She giggled and squeezed her walls around me playfully. "On the surface," she replied, "there's the new look. Much better all around, and I do get compliments on my handiwork. And the extra twenty or thirty pounds really help."

I tried to look down at my body. I hadn't noticed gaining so much weight. But the position we were in did not allow for much adjusting or self-inspection. Miranda saw my attempt and laughed. "Trust me," she said, "you've put on some weight, but in a good way. You were scrawny last year. Now... you look healthy. Why do you think I kept making you dinner?"

It had never seemed strange to me that Miranda was so consistent in feeding me. Just one of the ways I had grown to accept her presence in my life as if it was normal and natural. I began a slow, gentle rhythm of thrusting.

"But you've changed in other ways, too. You joke around sometimes..."

"Only because your laugh is so beautiful," I said, earning a prolonged kiss.

"And you've been good about learning how to think about my needs, and how to make conversation. You sometimes even show that you care...You've just... become a much better person. And that's an even bigger deal because I know how hard some of these things are for you."

"Because of my condition," I stated, sighing as I held a particularly deep thrust.

"Because you're wired differently from most people, and the world isn't designed to handle that. So you have to work harder just to keep up. It's not fair, but that's the hand we've been dealt."

I needed to kiss her. One hand held the back of her head, forcing her to keep her face close as our tongues danced. My thrusts sped up in the excitement of that exchange, and I felt Miranda's hands grip my bottom and pull me towards her. But I wasn't ready to finish, not yet. I could have, but it was too soon. I reluctantly released her head, which lowered to the pillow again. Slowing my motion, I pulled most of the way out and paused. Miranda wiggled slightly, whining in desire.

Seeing that I was holding back on purpose, she cocked her head and gave me a questioning look.

"Just taking in a beautiful sight," I explained. Miranda rolled her eyes and grinned. With one more look at her abdomen, and with further thoughts of the miracle contained within, I pushed slowly back inside her and held still. She moaned as I slide home and grunted at the slow joining of our pubic bones.

I was torn between two desires: I wanted to push myself towards release, a release that had been building for weeks. But I also wanted to rest in her arms and to enjoy the soft touch of my flesh against hers.

"Kiss me, Deke," Miranda whispered, putting a hand behind my head to guide my face towards hers. I followed her cue, slipping my arms under her body to keep her close as our lips met. We kissed passionately, our mouths readjusting, ever unsatisfied with the way we were touching, ever seeking to find a way to perfectly join mouth to mouth. Air hissed through our noses and was sucked back in gasps whenever our lips separated. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, our hips began moving.

Wanting to experience again the sensation of entering her, I pulled back, almost completely vacating her slickness until I could feel the tickle of hairs just below my crown. Then I cautiously re-entered her, savoring the feeling of her outer ring squeezing along my shaft. We had stopped kissing for me to moan at the sensation. Miranda, too, was gasping, her eyes closed.

"Do that again," she whispered. I happily obliged, repeating the motion a second, third, and even fourth time. Once I was securely inside her again, Miranda rolled her hips up. The new angle brought her thighs closer to my arms, and I took advantage of their new proximity to feel the skin on the back of her legs. Instead of putting her legs back down, Miranda slowly thrust back and forth, moving along my shaft no more than a few centimeters but giving me an exquisite feeling of depth. I grunted at the pressure I felt. She was doing all the work as I rested on top of her, concentrating on restraining the urge to take her more forcefully.

Miranda began kissing me again, her breathing agitated. "Keep going, Puppy," she mumbled between kisses. "I'm getting close." Her hands squeezed my ass and urged me to push. I started pressing deeper, excited by her sharp intakes of breath each time I bottomed out. Miranda spread her legs more and, grabbing under her knees, pulled her legs back. "God, you're so deep," she moaned, pushing up against me each time I pressed down.

"You feel amazing," I gasped. "So tight and warm. I never want to leave."

She gave me a grimacing smile and an affectionate moan. Then her face suddenly tightened in concentration. "Are you going to cum with me?" she whimpered. "Try to... try to cum soon. Can you?'

I sped up in response. I had been avoiding pushing myself over the edge, but she seemed intent on bringing me there. She released her legs and wrapped them around my back, pulling me towards her with her heels on my bottom. I had no intention of slowing or stopping, but I couldn't have even if I had wanted to.

"Are you close?" she asked, her voice rising in pitch. She was panting, frantically kissing around my neck and jaw.

"Getting there,' I gasped, pressing harder. Pushing deep into her. Feeling her clenching at my base when I lifted up.

"Are you thinking about our baby?" she whispered urgently. That certainly helped. My body sped up, driving deeper into her. "Thinking about the life we made? Thinking about how you filled me with your seed? Thinking about how you made me your woman?" Miranda certainly knew what she was doing. The thought of breeding her, of our intercourse producing what it had always been designed to produce -- it excited me.

"Yours," she whispered as my pounding into her turned manic. "Yours. I'm yours. My pussy is yours. My breasts are yours... Oh God, Puppy, I'm cumming! My baby is yours... Oh God! I'm all..."

She cried out and started shaking just as I held deep and released. Her mouth next to my ear, I heard each small cry of joy, punctuated as they were with groans of pleasure. Those sounds accompanied my pulsing inside her, each pulse magnified by the milking clenches of her tunnel, welcoming my spray. There was nothing more for my sperm to do in her warm, welcoming womb, but they raced to find their home there nonetheless.