My Teddy Bear Ch. 06

***

Early the next morning, I wake with the sun and can't get back to sleep. My bladder is full, and I reluctantly slip out of bed trying not to wake Teddy up. As I stand up, I feel a gooey trickling inside my vagina and a dribble of cum oozes out and down my thigh. Charming. I'd forgotten that the morning after could be like this. After that marathon first night, we'd showered before going to bed which had given plenty of time for most of what he'd left inside to slip away unnoticed.

When I sit down to pee, before I relax my bladder, I remember that I have the test in my washbag waiting to be used. Ted and I had talked with certainty last night, but it's probably worth making sure. I check the days since the morning after pill: 20. That's basically three weeks right? And it was delayed by two days? I think it's time.

Tearing the wrapper off and removing the cap, I awkwardly hold it in position and allow my pelvic region to relax. Making sure the bloody thing gets wet enough is tricky, but eventually I manage to get the sample stick sodden, shake off the drips into the toilet, and place the test on the edge of the sink, just within reach.

The last time I did one of these, I was shaking. Terrified. This time, I'm completely calm. Almost blasé. I'm all but certain and it's just to confirm. When the five minutes have passed and the two lines are visible, I barely even react, just smile to myself and fold the test up in some toilet paper to hide in my bedroom rubbish bin. Definitely not something to leave lying around for somebody to find. I have an idea about it though, and leave the result visible for now.

I wipe my pussy clean, including the spunk smear from my leg, flush, and quietly return to bed. As I shuffle back under the covers, I try to settle in for more sleep, but it doesn't come. I listen to the birds outside, chirping their morning greetings, and feel unusually awake.

Trying to use the time sensibly, I sit up in bed with my laptop looking up where to get a genetic carrier test, and following up with my registration at the doctors' practice. Ted is still asleep next to me, and the house is very quiet. We moved into my room after once again soiling his bed with cum and sweat, so the crisp, clean sheets feel luxurious and I have more of my things to hand for the research I'm conducting.

It turns out that the genetics test is easy to organise. It's all done remotely, due to the pandemic: they send a test kit, I take a swab from the inside of my cheek, and I'll get the results in a video call with a counsellor within a week of them receiving the sample. I have to go private so it's not cheap at about £300. I can't get a full-genome scan on the NHS without a medically pressing reason, and I can't demonstrate *that* without admitting to a doctor that the father of my baby is my brother. The questionnaire for the test asks for a load of information and a best estimate of family history, which I try to complete as best I can from memory. Still, it's altogether surprisingly easy, and puts me in a good frame of mind for the next tasks.

It's fortunate that Teddy wakes up around now, because not only do I need to make some calls for the next step, but I can hear movement from downstairs which indicates our parents are rousing. As he comes round, I look down at him, enjoying the privilege of being able to be the first thing he sees today.

He smiles, bleary eyed. I've been up a while but it's still pretty early, and we were awake until the very small hours with our emotional conversations and sexy escapades.

"Morning, Teddy Bear."

He yawns. "Morning honey. This is a nice view to wake up to."

I reach for the test and show it to him. He doesn't realise what it is at first and reaches for it.

"Careful, it's covered in pee. I took the test." He puzzles at it for a while, obviously not familiar with how it works. "The two lines. It's positive. I'm definitely pregnant."

He looks back up at me with a huge dumb grin on his face, and pulls the duvet away from me. He leans in to kiss my belly, just above where the baby is.

"Hello little one," he gently coos. "Daddy loves you."

One of my hands strays down to stroke his hair while he cherishes my femininity. But then I can feel a change in his posture, a stiffening, that I know very well by now. He's realised how close he is to my special place - can probably smell the residue of our coupling in the night - and wants to take advantage.

"Not now Teddy," I murmur. "Too risky. Mum and Dad are awake."

He's undeterred. His head lowers insistently, one hand snaking over my thigh to push it down and improve his access. I can feel his breath on my once again hairless mound, hot and moist, for a long few moments before his lips find my clit and his gentle tongue presses down against it.

"Uhnf. Teddy, stop," I groan unconvincingly, trying to suppress the sound. "I'm not clean, loads of your stuff is still inside..."

He doesn't seem to care. His clever tongue is flicking down to my slit every other movement, before returning to circle over my button and generate the sparks that are begging to shudder inside me.

I'm caught breathless by a sudden surge of it. My hand in his hair is grasping now, clutching at him and pulling him closer in. He's begun to shuffle round for better access, and I lift a leg to let him under. He's much more able to reach and I immediately feel the reward. The bundled arcs jolt up my spine and send my head tipping backwards, teeth clenched as I try to contain the sounds of building ecstasy.

Now he has two fingers inside me, curling upwards and

Oh

*Oh*

Oh *yes* - there.

Any semblance of control I had has gone, but fortunately for our need for discretion my breathlessness means I can't scream out like I would have. Instead I am gasping, loudly, but it's probably not going to escape this room. His fingers and tongue shatter me into fragments and I see pulsing lights even though my eyes are closed. Every muscle is clenching, making me crease into a V shape at the centre of which are his mouth and his hand.

As I start to regain my awareness, I've collapsed onto the bed, flat on my side. He is sitting on the edge, slipping his pyjamas back on, preparing to leave. When he stands up, he turns back towards me, a devilish grin on his lips, and leans down to kiss me, heedless of my musk all over his face. I can barely respond, still panting, and he leaves me in my compromised state as he saunters out of the room. A few seconds later, I hear the bathroom door lock and the rushing water of the shower begin. I can just about manage to move an arm, and begin to weakly push myself up into a sitting position.

I'm still thoroughly stunned, having barely managed to cover myself with the duvet, when my mum's head appears round the corner of the door. She's asking something about breakfast, but when she sees me, nakedness mostly exposed, the laptop sitting open on the bed, and can undoubtedly smell the stink of feminine arousal, she goes bright red and starts to stammer.

"Er. S-Sorry. Sorry to i-interrupt. I'll give you a m-moment."

She disappears and shuts the door behind her. I struggle to my feet, and reach for a bathrobe. Slowly, I force my way across the room on unsteady legs.

"Sorry mum," I sheepishly say as I open the door. I'm still flushed from the orgasm, but embarrassment would have coloured me a matching hue if not.

"No problem," she squeaks. "Perfectly fine."

"Did you need to tell me something," I manage to ask.

"Yes. Er. Sorry. Your father and I have to go somewhere." She can't look at me, still trembling with embarrassment. "I wanted to ask you to make sure your sister eats breakfast, or at the very least lunch. You know how she can be..."

"Sure mum, I'll try." Not that she'll listen to me, I think to myself. "No problem." And then, after a pause, trying to force myself to behave normally: "Where are you off to? Anywhere nice?"

She looks sharply at me in response before pointedly ignoring my question and proceeding to tell me, unnecessarily, about the food supplies we have in the fridge. I nod, mystified. And more than a little suspicious. Eventually she turns away and stalks down the stairs in that precise way of hers.

I collapse back into bed, mostly recovered from the orgasm but still dying inside from being caught 'masturbating' by my mother. At least she didn't come to my door three minutes earlier to find her son's head squeezed between her daughter's clenching legs.

***

By contrast to arranging the carrier test, tracking down my registration paperwork at the doctor's surgery is an exercise in frustration. I get passed around multiple administrators, eventually being handed over to somebody who says she has found my application but that it's in the queue for processing and that it can only be prioritised if medically necessary.

"Yes, I know. I was told this before. But as I said to the previous person on the phone: I'm *pregnant*. It is medically necessary for me to have access to a doctor."

I'm trying to keep my voice down, not only to avoid antagonising the person I'm talking to, but also hoping not to announce my pregnancy to my sister in the next room. Joanie would usually be dead to the world for hours yet, so I'm pretty sure she won't hear anything, but I think it's wise to remain cautious. I heard Mum and Dad leave in the car shortly after my awkward encounter with her so at least I know that's not a risk.

It takes another 15 minutes on hold before the clinic registrar finally accepts my forwarded call and she briskly agrees that my paperwork should be prioritised, asks for an estimate of conception date - which I'm able to provide with certainty - and arranges an appointment for me with one of the GPs the following week. After having had the runaround for over half an hour, the final part of the call where all the work gets done takes less than five minutes.

I send Teddy a text, not sure what he's up to. He'd popped back into my room when I was still on hold and then after bringing me a small plate of breakfast and a mug of herbal tea, he left me to it.

// Hey sweet cheeks, Dr appt made AT LAST. Where you at?

I consider getting out of bed, but the tiring morning and my early waking have left me feeling pretty lethargic. The hormones are probably also contributing. Rather childishly, I make a decision, and send another text.

// I've decided I'm not getting out of bed until the afternoon. Plz come and join me xx

I chuckle to myself at my imperious manner. Hardly pregnant at all yet, but already behaving like a diva. It's a day where laziness can be pretty safely enjoyed, caution around our sister notwithstanding, and I'm determined to make the most of it. I settle down with a book, nestled in the bed, knowing that Teddy will heed my siren's call before long.

***

He wakes me gently when he returns. I start, knocking the open book off my chest, momentarily disoriented. I hadn't meant to fall asleep, but drowsiness had obviously overtaken me.

I look up at him, beautiful and golden in the morning sun that streams in through the window. He's wearing a soft, old t-shirt that I love the feeling of, and navy-blue mid-thigh shorts that cling to his strong legs in a most appealing way.

"Hey," I softly greet him, blushing under his gaze, conscious of my nakedness under the bedsheets. Only my chest is exposed but that's enough to excite him, from the bulge developing in his shorts.

"How are you feeling," he gently asks.

I'm a bit puzzled. Have I given him a sense that I'm unwell? "I'm fine, why?"

"I don't know what to expect," he grins at me. "I hoped you'd be feeling good after earlier, but obviously the call was stressful. And I don't know. Thought maybe you might be feeling sick or something."

"Ugh I hope that doesn't happen." I sit up, back against the headboard, allowing the duvet to slip past my waist and reveal more of myself to him. "I didn't tell you about Mum, did I?"

He shakes his head and laughs as I relate the story. Her prim demeanour is so well known to us that he can easily imagine how flustered she was.

"Where do you think they might be going?" I ponder.

"Beats me. I don't think it's a social call or she would have told you. And they've hardly been the most harmonious couple the last couple of months."

"Anyway, it means we have the house to ourselves today. Almost anyway," gesturing to the wall that adjoins Joanie's.

He grins, and reaches for my bare leg, peeking out from under the sheets. "I can think of some ways to make the most of that."

"We need to talk some more, I'm afraid." I sigh at him, allowing his hand to rest on my shin but trying to convey a sense that more cheeky fun is not on the cards right now.

"Sure."

"We've got probably two to three months, four at most, before I'll either need a cover story, or we've managed to extricate ourselves from living here."

I leave the words as they are, hanging with meaning. He looks pensive.

"Yeah. I've been thinking about that this morning. Was looking at my finances trying to see if we can afford to rent a place."

"I'm sorry that I'll be a financial burden on you Teddy." My eyes are welling up, a feeling of sadness suddenly clouding what had felt very positive only minutes ago.

"Don't say that. Never say that." His warm hand feels like a glowing brand of loving goodwill. "When work is good, I'll be able to provide for us just fine. It's only due to... well, due to the obvious, that it's a trickier problem right now."

I nod, trying not to let the brimming tears spill over.

"I think we're very nearly at a point where I could afford somewhere small. We just need to think about how to lay the groundwork. We can't just run away without a word, that would devastate Mum."

I think back to her fraught, fragile manner this morning. Something's up with her, but what?

I slowly nod again, feeling the truth of his words. "So, we need a reason for us to move away together, I need to conjure up a baby daddy to take the blame, and we need to make sure we don't get caught in the meantime. Not asking for much, are we?"

"It's possible I guess that we could try to make it look like we're moving away to separate places. You'd have to move fast though, as you'd need to be fully gone before anyone knows."

"I don't think that's realistic... I can't exactly stay completely out of touch for, I guess, 11 months? And when they eventually meet the baby, they'll see that it's rather older than it should be."

"So instead maybe I say I'll move out, at first you don't go, stay here and come clean about the pregnancy, claim you've been hooking up with somebody when pretending to be out running. Later, you can say you want to be by the sea, or some other excuse and I'll pipe up that you can live with me in the new place."

"It seems pretty tenuous, but it might work... putting a lot of hope in people's capacity for not seeing what they don't want to see."

We start planning how to stage-manage the phases of the plan. We agree that Ted will start making suggestions about moving out from next week, that he'll state it's due to more of his current clients being nearer the coast, and that he's got some kind of mates rates arrangement with a pal that makes it affordable. I'm to wait until further along, we think another five or six weeks, when I'll have had the results of the screening and also hopefully have been able to have the first ultrasound - basically trying to avoid making a fuss over nothing if the pregnancy turns out not to be viable. When the time comes, I will tearfully go to Mum and confess my affair with a now-disappeared local lad.

If those bits go smoothly, the idea is for me to suggest that sea air and living by the beach will help my morning sickness. I've not had any of that yet, of course, but it's a decently plausible excuse, and more importantly is the only one we can think of. Ted will at this point suggest I move in with him at least for a short while, and then I'll magically find it so transformative being by the sea that I can't bear to leave. It's a wing and a prayer kind of plan, but if we think of something better in the coming weeks, we should be able to pivot and adjust. Either way, it should achieve the main goal of getting us out of here and into a place that we can be alone, to start and raise our unusual little family in peace. Questions and perhaps suspicion are likely going to be avoidable, but at least this proposal has a chance of mitigating some of them.

By now it's almost my deadline of midday, and my stately lie-in is to come to an end. I did after all promise to try and make Joanie eat some sort of meal during the first half of the day, so the process of hammering on her door will have to begin sometime.

Before that, though, there's matter of returning a favour. As I signal that I'm about to get up, Teddy rises in an altogether more spritely fashion. I get as far as the edge of the bed and swing my legs over the side into a sitting position, my nakedness on full display to him. With one outstretched arm I've halted his stride, and with a gentle tug I pull him back in towards me.

I flash a wicked smile at my lover, pop open the button of his shorts, and with a smooth motion pull them and his underwear down enough to free his cock.

Even soft, it is long and heavy. With the view before him, and the light touch of my fingers, he does not stay soft for long. I only have to bow my head slightly to reach my lips to him and feel him reach full stiffness within my mouth. I've practiced accommodating his size many times in the last couple of weeks and have managed to fully overcome my rebellious gag reflex, so I sink as deep as I can down his shaft as an opening gambit. I still can't actually swallow him, he just doesn't fit, so doubt I ever will be able to. But I can catch his head at the top of my throat, taking almost half of him in my mouth and treating it to the warmth and wetness of my increasingly strong tongue and lips.

He's squeaky clean from his earlier shower, so his intoxicating musk is sadly absent, but the subtle taste of his skin and unmistakeable tang of his genital flesh is thrilling to me. I hum my appreciation of it as I work my hot mouth around his thickness, saliva building up around the intrusion in my mouth, a small surge of it spilling out past my lips, trailing down over my chin and dripping onto my thigh.

"Oh fuck, Pips, I-", He must have seen that, and liked it. I draw a grunt out of him, cutting his words off mid-sentence.

He leans forward, hand on my shoulder, bending at the waist slightly and groaning. I snake my free hand behind his bum and pull him towards me, encouraging him to thrust a little, keeping my jaw wide and applying pressure to the top and bottom of him with my upper lip and tongue, resting above my teeth to shield his tenderness from any accidental contact. He's quite hesitant, remembering some of our previous attempts, but I gradually feel his head pushing harder and faster against the back of my mouth, and enjoy the increasing volume and urgency of his moans.

Feeling him reach the point of no return, I shift my pattern of movement. I pull my head back, allow his angle to change, and focus my efforts on the head of his cock. My tongue firmly presses against the underside, catching against the ridges, drawing a surge of greater hardness and that telltale final extra swelling. Looking up and holding his gaze, I open my eyes wide. I hold him just inside my mouth, lips hooked around the flare of his tip, tongue curling. It's only a couple of seconds before his seed bursts out over my taste buds, spilling over and into my throat, forcing me to swallow reflexively, but there's plenty more to come. Several more spurts follow it, coating my tongue and filling the space behind my bottom teeth. My hand squeezes more out of him until no more comes, and I swallow again, leaving just a greasy residue in my mouth. My lips let him go with a pop and kiss the tip as I flutter my eyes at him. He's panting, face flushed, holding my cheek with one hand, and gently clutching at a boob with the other.