Ms. Consensual - Round 01

Restlessness followed the block party on my guilty consciousness shouting down rational thought and the notion the addictively cute trust fund baby was playing mind games. I didn't hear from Juan all day but couldn't bring myself to pick up the phone to see what he had cooking. I chalked it up to him probably finding a girl to link up with, but honestly was worried that I would call Phoebe instead. I'd replayed our flare up over and over with each viewing making me the bad guy until I spazzed out.

"Hey mister?"

"Huh?"

"Why you look so sad, mister?" I glanced over the counter finding the little girl from the day prior sitting in her stroller with her doting grandmother holding a basket of goods she wanted to purchase. I'd given the small kid a free treat before, now noticing that her simple question killed the noise in my head.

"Oh, hey little one; I'm not sad, I'm just uh, thinking really hard."

"You look sad, you should eat some candy."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, sweet things make you smile, mister." The little Asian toddler's anecdote made a child's sense, and that was good enough for me as I exchanged smiles with her grandmother.

"Would you like something sweet; why don't you go down to the cooler and get a treat. It's hot outside, okay?" The kid's guardian tried to beg off, but I eventually convinced them. It was the least I could do for the moment of peace the kid brought with her question and solution to my problem.

Traffic in the store started to ebb slowing down as I did my cash drawer earlier than expected, clock watching. My eyes settled on the phone as thoughts of Phoebe returned prompting me to pick up my android looking at my contacts, specifically her number.

"Aw well, she probably blocked me, anyways." My thumb hovered near Phoebe's number as I talked myself into sending an apology, I was sure would bounce back or be left on read.

[TEXT MESSAGE: I just wanted to apologize for everything, sorry; thanks for coming to Gramp's store, Phoebe. I didn't mean what I said, sorry and stay safe and you're going to be a great mother. Bye.]

"AH SHIT!! STOOPID!!" I tossed the phone across the counter feeling like I'd fallen off the proverbial wagon. I just stared at it for a few minutes, then ran from behind the counter restocking a few items and sweeping up keeping busy until I could find the courage to delete Phoebe's number.

My phone started ringing and time stopped on a dime again.

The ringing continued for a few seconds as I stared at it on the front countertop with my rational inner voice demanding that I let it ring, while the butterflies in my stomach and my burgeoning tumescence said otherwise with extreme prejudice. My heart was thumping as the last few rings started.

"HELLO?!!" I almost spazzed out ready to take whatever she had to dish out on the chin and bend the knee, prostrate myself before her.

"Do you still have the things I ordered last night?"

"Yeah?"

"I'd like to acquire them along with a four pack of Yoo Hoo; do you think that would be possible, or do I have to waddle to my car and drive over there?" Her mousy voice was devoid of emotion, making me grief stricken and angry at myself for forcing that nasty confrontation earlier in the day.

"I can take care of that for you ma'am, uh Phoebe." I failed at catching myself.

"You had it right the first time, Charlie." Her tone made me queasy.

"Sorry."

"Save it; same rules apply, but if it's gonna be like last night, then keep that shit. I'd just as sooner order Door Dash for my baby; at least they can make a delivery in a timely manner." Phoebe's voice was icy cold.

"I'm leaving right now; and it's on the house, okay?"

"My money's good Charlie; nobody was oppressed to boost my fucking credit rating. Can you bring my shit, or not?"

"Yeah."

"Make it happen." Phoebe hung up in my face. There was no doubt she probably didn't care if I showed up or not.

My actions following that gnarly olive branch made it look as if my movements were being coerced by the kidnapping of a family member. I snagged the items quickly replacing most of it with items right off the shelf locking up without the usual obsessive compulsive lock checks speeding off in my yellow Beetle at a clip that could've got me a speeding ticket in a school zone. There was a day care a few blocks over. I leaned into the steerign wheel tooling down the side streets making it to Phoebe's home quicker than expected. Remembering myself, I shot Phoebe a text letting her know I was outside.

[Phoebe's Text: Pull over on the side of the house, climb over the brick wall and keep it quiet.]

"Huh?" The instructions struck me odd as I wondered if her husband was home, starting to feel shitty when a second text popped up.

[Phoebe's second Text: Don't think Charlie, do...Don't think, do.]

I looked over my shoulder, then out the passenger side window wondering if Phoebe was looking at me from one of the windows in her Craftsman home.

"Alright, no turning back now." I drove to the edge of the block making a right turn tooling along the street with a wall at my immediate right across the curb and sidewalk. I sat behind the wheel weighing my options wondering if her instructions were actually some sort of rip or mean prank after our flare up earlier in the day. I waited for a minute listening for a dog or something before getting out with the bag of goodies for Phoebe. The fence was built for privacy but had these squares of negative space that served like the rungs of a ladder as I threw caution to the wind, climbing over. This felt sketchy as hell.

I landed in a rock garden full of nice white and brown pebbles that looked like tiny eggs intermingled with these plastic flowers of various primary colors. I found a secondary utilitarian fence blocking me in-between it and the brick wall that narrowed off ahead adjacent with the home a few feet ahead. I could hear a movie playing recognizing the voice of Samuel L. Jackson in the distance sort of faint. I trudged ahead on the rocks and pebbles, hearing them crunch underfoot until I was level with the side of the house. It got tight necessitating I climb over, but it was ponderous with the plastic bag. The side of the house had this overhead alcove above a window that was open.

"So, you made it this time, huh?"

Phoebe was standing there in the window peering at me from behind some sheer pinkish, almost flesh toned curtains. She'd changed clothes since I last saw her now wearing a white ethereal looking Kurtas Kurti type gown with a nice print around the neckline. Her large bust casually stretched the light material to its limits as I stopped in place affected by her beauty, this time just looking at her face.

"Yeah uhm, want me to hand you the bag?" I felt stupid looking at her face in the window finding an expression that made me wilt inside.

Is that what you wanna do, Charlie; hand me the bag?" I glanced down noticing she was lighting some incense on a short dresser top.

"Uhm, I can climb over, but I don't want anything to happen to your stuff. I've gotta be careful." My voice sounded desperate and slightly whiny as Phoebe put a finger to her lips shushing me as she continued lighting the incense.

"First things, first Charlie; why'd you apologize?"

"I was wrong."

"About?"

"Well, the way I spoke to you this morning; I'm really sorry Phoebe."

"About?"

"Huh?"

"You said you were wrong, so that begs the question of what exactly you were wrong about; so, what were you wrong about, Charlie?" Her mousy, softened voice really caught you off guard when she said something you didn't expect, and I found myself staring back without an answer.

"Uhm, I don't know."

"Do you like me, Charlie?"

"What?"

"Don't fuck with me; do you like me, Charlie?" She looked up from what she was doing staring me dead in the eyes, still ice cold and somewhat intimidating.

"Yeah, yes."

"Like you wanna make me your girl or do you wanna fuck me?" I felt this big lump in my throat as Phoebe put everything on the metaphorical table with no fucks given.

"I... don't know yet."

"Even though I'm knocked up?"

"I don't know how to answer that without sounding like a creep, sorry." I was honest knowing anything less wasn't going to fly with this woman.

"Alright, we'll work on that Charlie; do you want to come inside with me; or hand me that fucking bag, get a c-note and kick rocks?" Her soft but dominant voice left me at wits end as she continued lighting the incense on the desktop adjacent to her open window.

"Wanna come inside, with you." It felt like a defeat even though it was what I wanted most in the world at that precise moment.

"Okay, I'll let you come in here with me, but I'm not gonna make it easy for you."

"Yeah?"

"Give me your shoes and walk back the other way Charlie."

"Huh?" I raised a brow.

"The gate opens right behind you Charlie; just turn around and lift the latch and come on inside my bedroom, but you have to be really fucking quiet." I turned around, finding the gate door feeling like a boob, before stepping out of my sneakers and handing them to Phoebe through the window.

I really was in a rock garden walking pigeon toed to the gate winching from some of the sharp edges underfoot stepping into a pretty sizeable backyard. It was rectangular with a toddler's playground at the far end and a patch of concrete left that way for parking. At my other side was the back of Phoebe's house with an overlapping stone patio part of the house with a screen door facing me.

There was a secondary door and small porch at the opposite side that was a head scratcher as that screen door opened revealing Phoebe standing there with the heavier door behind it, cracked. Her big sloping baby belly appeared before she did standing there with an incense stalk in hand. Her free pointer finger was situated in front of her lips, shushing me as I gingerly walked forward. Phoebe stopped me at the door with a stern look on her impossibly cute face.

"I need you to be as quiet as a mouse; there's people sleeping in here and somebody might come home while you're here; did you park where I told you?"

I nodded heart thumping, suddenly feeling something akin to stage fright for lack of a better explanation.

"If you fuck this up, you don't have to worry about seeing me anymore."

I reacted facially but didn't say a thing one way or the other as Phoebe handed me the incense stalk.

"Alright, come into my boudoir, Charlie." She leaned back, opening the inside door wider, allowing me into her home. The queasiness ramped up a thousand informed by the pulsing in my inner thighs and the butterflies swarming about in my stomach. This was virgin territory for me and an unexpected adventure I shouldn't have been taking. No matter what, this was still a married pregnant woman.

Phoebe's bedroom had four surprisingly tight walls cluttered with two bookshelves reaching to a low celling touching edges, stuffed to the gills with various tomes, knickknacks and odds and ends. Her bedroom door leading into the rest of the house was on the other side of the furthest shelf. A simple bed stacked with a wealth of comforters and one shabby looking quilt line the wall next to that door. Closer inspection found that it was a simple twin mattress atop some built-in shelving that looked dated.

My eyes settled on the desk finding that it was a Chinese alter, the kind used to pay respects to a loved one. Right below it was a flat screen television mounted haphazardly on a milkcrate playing Quentin Tarantino's finest "Pulp Fiction." The room's free walls were plastered with various posters and awards, the kind little kids got in preschool and beyond. There was a simple dresser and a small vanity table at what you'd think was the head of Phoebe's bed and a few milk crates stuffed with all manner of books, periodicals and manga. This woman was a covert geek of the highest order as I glanced over finding Phoebe taking the utmost care to close her door, just cracking it. The room was lit with a simple lamp on her bedside table.

"Not what you were expecting, huh?"

I didn't know how to answer as Phoebe gingerly paddled to the edge of her bed knowing my eyes followed taking in the outline of her motherly body hidden by the light fabric. I stumbled managing to help her sit down facing the television placing the bag beside her unsure of what to do with myself until she patted a spot next to her on the mattress. Phoebe tugged at my pinky finger until I sat down beside her. The queasiness was almost overwhelming making me focus straight ahead at the movie playing on her shabbily mounted flatscreen television. Bruce Willis' boxer was prepping himself in his locker room for a fight that he agreed to throw for the mob beforehand. Phoebe sat beside me ignoring her goodies.

"Didn't think it would happen, did you?" She asked after fifteen minutes of watching as I sat beside her with a heartbeat loud enough that I worried it was perceptible. My hands were crossed over my lap.

"Guess not."

"So, you're here, even after you acted like an ass this morning; what now?" Phoebe was right on my bumper audibly speaking wanting me to verbalize what we both were thinking as I stole a glance finding her baby belly in my field of vision topped by her huge swollen breasts.

"Uhm, I... uh, well." I was embarrassed again as Phoebe looked from my flushed face to her large sloping belly, then slowly back towards the screen watching Ving Rhames crime boss putting a kill order on Bruce Willis's double-crossing boxer. John Travolta was wholly spazzed out for the majority of the scene as Phoebe spoke again in that assured, almost dominant tone still in profile.

"My situation, this baby in my tummy makes you feel like a creep, huh? Yeah, that's it Charlie; I know it and I also know that if I wasn't knocked up to high hell, maybe you'd have the courage to say what you're thinking...maybe do a little something. I know what it's like to want something; do you-want something, Charlie?"

"I thought uhm, I mean...shit, I really didn't think nothing like this would ever happen in my wildest dreams, seriously."

"But you don't wanna be a sleazebag and cross the line; you've admitted you like me, but that damn morality is holding you back while I'm sitting here right beside you. I saw you before you saw me using that mirror in your store. I liked what I saw, so I spoke to you; maybe I'll cop to the reason why if you can get out of your comfort zone."

"I don't understand, Phoebe."

"And you ain't gonna understand sitting here with me because despite what you might think about me, my body...this baby; I'm a subversion of your tiny expectations. I let you inside my home, Charlie; don't you want me anymore?" I was so nervous; the perspiration was making my face glisten with moisture.

I was about to say something, but Phoebe raised a hand shushing me again as we sat there watching Bruce Willis meet up with his slightly chubby French girlfriend, Fabianne. I found her annoying and grating, effective enough that it felt like the couple was doomed to go down in a hail of gunfire. She was oblivious to the danger while Willis's character was dangerously on edge barely registering her until she talked of gaining weight for the sole purpose of having a pot belly. It was weird but fit the character as Phoebe responded sitting chastely beside me watching things play out on screen.

"She's right, you know."

"About what?" I stole a quick glance at her profile, finding her focused on the film, feeling a bit jealous of the movie.

"What she said about It being unfortunate what people find pleasing to the touch and pleasing to the eye being seldom the same. What do you think about that, Charlie? "Phoebe was looking directly at my profile now.

"I uh, think she could, be right?" I answered her question with sort of a question without thought, not wanting to answer wrongly.

"Seriously, Charlie?" She paused the movie with a remote at her opposite side looking at me with a furrowed brow, pensively.

"She's right, about what she said; it's just that the way she talks kind of threw me off. I mean, this guy just screwed over the mob and she's lying there talking about a fucking pot belly while he's worried about being caught and tortured to death; it's pretty fucked up, right? Ah mierda." I was stammering as she sat there glaring at my face in profile, looking progressively irritated.

"Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you uhm, trust me; I mean, do you think you can trust me, huh?"

"Sure." I didn't know if I was saying what she wanted to hear but went with the flow not knowing what would come next, detecting some sort of movement on her far side which turned out to be her touching a light green robe draped over the other end of her modest bed. Phoebe removed the thin sash from it looking at my profile again. She was favoring it in both hands making me think I might be garroted.

"Look at me Charlie."

Phoebe's cute disarming beauty was staggering this close along with the swell of her large swollen, spongy looking breasts. She was still staring intently at my face making me antsy and withdrawn. I'd thought to sever any ties and burn off my uncontrollable attraction to her earlier in the day only to backtrack failing miserably, now in front of her without a clue. She was a married pregnant woman after all.

"Don't be alarmed, but I think we need a trust exercise between us; so, I'm tying this around your wrist with the rest of the slack under my control Charlie; I want you to turn out the light and stay there until you feel me tug on this sash. Now remember, you must be quiet as a mouse no matter what happens."

"No matter what happens?"

"Charlie." Phoebe flicked off her flatscreen television with a raised brow.

"Okay, got it."

"Turn out the light."

We exchanged glances for a second, then I crooked my fingers over the edge of the mattress on both sides robotically getting up. I raised my left hand a little staring at the sash tied there, then at her impossibly cute face noting the static, almost angry expression there. I walked to the end of her bed flicking the light switch drowning her bedroom in complete inky darkness. I stayed put as instructed.

I was there for what felt like an eternity trying not to breathe too heavily before I realized I could hear Phoebe's own audible huffs and a few deep breaths along with movement and creaking of her bed.

The sash tied around my wrist was tugged slightly then it went taut; Phoebe started slowly reeling me in her direction as my heart started thumping so hard, I thought I might need paramedics. This was it. I lightly bumped my calve on the edge of her bed but managed to go with the flow walking carefully following the sash diminishing in length. Phoebe's breathes were coming harder, more labored now.

"Ah." I caught myself cupping my free hand over my mouth as I was quickly unbuckled and unzipped. My pants were half yanked down midthigh followed by her tiny hand breaching my boxer briefs grabbing my manhood. I almost came in her hand, but somehow didn't as I felt this syrupy wet sensation realizing Phoebe was about to blow me.

I exploded in her mouth within seconds facepalming with both hands.

Phoebe kept going as I felt her nails digging into my buttocks drawing me awkwardly closer. She was throating me at a steady pace, loudly topping me off which was no big feat considering I was just barely six inches. I was average in length but had considerable girth as Phoebe took me to the edge in short order with her wet syrupy efforts audible in the darkness. I was getting a five-star treatment with all the bells and whistles as Phoebe sucked and lapped on my rather oversized balls. My thighs tightened up.

I exploded in Phoebe's mouth even more than the last time but somehow knew she would keep going.