Sod's Law Pt. 07

We hugged more tightly, which led to a certain cock rising and nipple tightening, which in turn led to a gentle mutual stroking, which led to her rolling over me, and putting me in her, which led to the softest stroking movement, as we gazed at each other, and I saw the almost desperate love in her eyes. We made slow gentle movements full of love and gratitude we were together again.

It took at long time, that gentle loving action, enjoying the closeness, enmeshed as we were. It mirrored what we did the second time on Sunday, as if ratifying it as well as the more violent slaking of our thirst for each other.

Then she moved a little faster, though still softly, and I responded in like manner. Her breathing became ragged and she dipped onto me, rubbing her tits on my chest which made me twitch and she to giggle, and which then ambushed her with a sudden and deliciously deep orgasm. She stiffened, made a high pitched squeak, and trembled with little twitches, her eyes wide with surprise.

She came down, rolled off me, and said, "Put it back in and finish yourself off."

I crawled over her and pushed in, finding her soft and hot around my cock, and then continued with long slow strokes, which she answered with a raising of her hips, and a hand passing over my bottom, and then suddenly a finger pushed into my arse, at which I lost my rhythm, shuddered and spewed my semen deep into her. She giggled at the effect she had.

After which we cuddled, enjoying the closeness, and then slept for an hour, which could have been an indication of how much stress we had been under since the previous weekend.

"I've got the week off, as I thought I would," I told her over omelettes for late lunch. "Any idea what you'd like to do?"

I had it in mind to suggest going to Wales.

"We were going to honeymoon in Barcelona," she said. "It was a compromise: Barry likes reading on the beach under a hot sun, not that it would be all that hot at this time of year, I like art and architecture, so we both would have been satisfied."

I forbore to comment that I would have hoped they would have both been satisfied in other ways in any case. It brought a picture of them making love which after our discussion earlier did not worry me except for a slight feeling of regret and loss. But she was continuing.

"David," she began, clearly about to sell a different prospect to me from the almost wheedling tone of her voice. "It seems we both have Welsh origins, and strange as it may seem, I've never actually been to Wales - York being where my parents live, they went for Scotland, or the North East coast, or abroad. What about Wales?"

"Just what I thought," I said. "I got some brochures. Since neither of us knows where our various Evanses lived, so we should in time cover the whole of the Principality, perhaps if we concentrated on the North Wales area this time?"

--

Chapter 14

I found a hotel in the countryside a few miles south of Conwy and booked for the week, to leave on Friday morning. That evening we joined the River House residents for dinner, which was a spicy vegetable concoction by Imogen.

Helen was feted and hugged and kissed as a long lost prodigal daughter or sister, and the girls were allowed to gasp and sigh at the sight of her engagement ring, now back in place.

Next morning, Saturday, we were off in my car headed for Cymru (pronounced Cumry, which come to think about it was quite apt for what we intended). Thankfully, since it was the end of October, there was little holiday traffic, and the journey, once the motorway was completed, was peaceful and relaxed along the A55, Helen exclaiming over the reds, oranges and yellows of the autumn trees under a blue sky.

Our room had a balcony with enough room for two chairs, provided they faced the open view of a huge field which was feeding a flock of sheep. The animals were well on with growing their winter coats. The flock would all move en masse to various parts of the field as each day passed. Occasionally they would all run somewhere else in the field and then resume grazing.

"Why do they all go to the same places?" Helen asked, snuggled under my armpit as we watched them from the bed.

"I suppose one off them decides... and they all follow..."

"Like sheep!" she laughed.

"Exactly!"

The room was spacious and the bed was huge, and we eyed it hungrily when we arrived, dropped our bags, undressed each other and fell onto it and into each other's arms, where we lay awhile before hands began roaming to excite, lips flowed, kissed, and admitted tongues.

Before long, on Helen's instruction I was lodged deep within her and we were see-sawing our way to climactic release. It was relaxed (to some extent) and involved much eye contact as we sought to regain that deep intimacy we had before the break. We did not speak of this, but our physical need for closeness spoke for us.

The weather smiled on us over the whole five days with varying amounts of cloud and sunshine, but an absence of the rain for which North Wales is usually famous. It was also warm for the end of October. In fact we giggled that the temperature was the same as Barcelona's!

There was again an unspoken agreement that being together was more important than what we did, which meant that we would occupy the mornings exploring the area, and the afternoons, after a shower often taken together, an hour or two in bed, then dinner.

It was not always love making, that afternoon bed: we would read or watch TV, which was entertaining since reception was intermittent! There were also hugs, caresses, cuddles and kisses, then a second shower before dinner if we'd been more energetic,

The mixture of long, sometimes strenuous walks, of driving through the mountains of North Wales, of sightseeing, and strolling on beaches beside the sea, seemed to heal any residual wounds from our enforced separation, and we returned to River House the following Friday refreshed with our relationship feeling fully repaired.

We had one day, Saturday, do our washing, and to focus on Helen's imminent departure for York on Sunday, ready for work on Monday morning.

"I'll miss you so much!" she averred as we lay abed late on Saturday morning. "When can we meet?"

There was little doubt in my mind. "Every weekend, I would have thought," I said. "It's no fun to drive on a Friday, but the trains are frequent and not too expensive. We could alternate if your parents don't mind me staying."

Her face clouded at that. "I'm not too sure about mother. Dad will be fine; I think he likes you, and he really admires how you found out the truth about us. If necessary I'll come here every week. I know we can't be together during the week, but I'm damned if we're going to be apart a moment longer than necessary."

Her assertion did indeed give me a warm glow.

"If you come here next weekend," I added. "It'll give you a fortnight to work on her before I arrive," I said with a mischievous grin, which she returned.

"You are a cunning lawyer, Mr Evans!" she said. "I love you!"

I told her I reciprocated; she sighed with exasperation at the word, and a huge grin lit her face.

So all in all it wasn't too bad. What was more, it seemed that Maurice had had some long talks with Kathleen about the new situation, and once she got over her disappointment at missing the wedding and her resentment at my contribution to that disappointment, she admitted that really she had always liked me! So I was welcomed without reserve on my first visit after the debacle and Helen and I settled into regular alternating visits at weekends.

Despite the limitations, life was good for us, and once again we began to agree that our troubles really had to be behind us this time, though from past experience we should have known that Sod does not sleep for long!

Before we knew it, Christmas was imminent and weekends were taken up with buying presents, including one for Barry, who it seemed had wasted no time in finding a girlfriend at a Christmas party, and while it was early days, the two seemed to be getting along very well according to Helen.

Christmas that year fell on Wednesday. I spent Christmas Eve and Day with Helen and her parents, knowing that Mum's house would be full and I'd hardly be missed.

On Boxing Day we drove to Mum's and spent the day there, sleeping there and driving back to York on the Friday, which was also a holiday for both our firms, their excuse if one were necessary being that it saved on heating bills! Her firm would however be working on Monday and Tuesday of the following week, whereas mine allowed the whole of Christmas week off until after New Year. I stayed in York until Tuesday.

We made our way to Mum's on Tuesday afternoon for New Year. As expected the house was full to bursting, as folk came from miles around. Most of the near neighbours also came: they had long learned it was better to be there than hear the happy din second hand.

Since we both had work on Thursday, I put her on the train on Wednesday afternoon, and then drove back to River House.

It was therefore a surprise that Helen phoned me on Thursday evening asking to come to me that weekend. She sounded subdued and I asked her what the matter was, but she said it would wait till the weekend. It worried me a little. If she didn't want to talk over the phone, it must be serious.

The name Sod came to mind, but was dismissed immediately. All that was in the past; we were settled now, or at least as settled as we could be living seventy miles apart and only meeting at weekends. I'm surprised on reflection I didn't hear the old devil laughing uproariously at my dismissal of any likelihood he was once again up to his merry pranks. Not so merry as it transpired.

The name Barry came next. I still had fleeting feelings of insecurity, which I acknowledged as baseless. We had seen Barry over Christmas, and Helen showed no signs of unease with him. In any case, he was now going out with that very pretty girl who seemed to have a nature to match her looks.

I shrugged my shoulders, it would wait: it would have to.

There was little work to do after the New Year, so I asked for the afternoon off, which was readily granted. I phoned her back and told her she could arrive mid afternoon and I would meet her at the station.

I picked her up from the station. It was raining quite heavily and it was cold. We kissed and hugged our hellos and dived for the warmth of the car, exchanging the usual - how was the journey, how was work, how were her parents, by which time we had arrived at the House.

I was not totally insensitive: primed by her tone of voice the day before, I could see she was worried about something, but something else warned me not to ask - yet. Not only was she worried, she was pale, and that did concern me, for she was usually a very healthy girl. I felt a sense of foreboding.

Helen led the way to 'our' room. We sat down opposite each other, she in a chair, I on the bed. My spirits dropped. I did not have to ask her, she was going to tell me.

"David, I've got something to tell you." She was steeling herself.

I nodded. Now I felt real fear. What could be so terrible? There was no time to surmise.

"David, I'm pregnant."

Oh, Sod!

--

Chapter 15

"I'm pregnant!"

After such a momentous announcement she glanced at my face, then looked down. What she saw, I have no idea, but the shock to me must have been obvious.

"You're sure?" I said, but my question was so manifestly stupid, I mentally kicked myself and went on without waiting for an answer, "Of course you're sure. How long have you known?"

"Last week. Before Christmas, it was two missed periods so I got a pregnancy test yesterday. It was positive. I've also been feeling queasy in the mornings, and my tits are sensitive. I went to the doctor's this morning and she confirmed it."

She looked up intently at me again, this time she seemed to be trying to read my feelings from my expression. I think confusion adequately sums up my feelings at that point, and my thoughts were pretty chaotic, so there was an uncomfortable silence during which Helen looked increasingly distressed.

"David?" she queried at length, fear in her eyes.

"I'm just trying to process what you've told me." I told her with some agitation. Looking back on it I'm surprised I took it as calmly as I did. In fact I actually felt happy at the news: we were together and I was earning good money, and I was going to be a dad! Then I wondered how she felt about it.

I must have smiled. "I suppose it's a bit of a shock, but it's wonderful news; we're having a baby! How do you feel about it?"

"I was worried how you'd take it and I wouldn't have planned for a family so soon, but I've always wanted children. Now I know you're happy, we'll cope. But there's something else-"

I wasn't listening, now I knew she was happy about it as well, my mind was galloping. "I suppose the pill failed? Well, if you have sex, you have to accept there's always a chance-"

"David listen to me."

"River House is no place to bring up a family though, so we'll need to find a house to buy. I'm making good money and I'm sure I can get a mortgage on a house fairly easily-"

"David!"

I was brought to a halt by her shout, and this was where Sod enacted his Law's sub-clause. Our new path of life would have been straightforward and happy at this new life, but that would have been too easy, wouldn't it?

"David," she said more calmly now she had my attention, but still looking worried, "it's not as easy as that. There's something else."

"Ugh?" Eloquence often departs at a time of crisis. Not as easy? I had started to feel good, nay excited about it. We would find a way. A family! I was still smiling happily - until her next statement when Sod's hammer fell.

"Darling, the thing is, I don't know if you're the father." Tears began to fall in her distress. All the plans came crashing down.

"What? Not the... I don't understand. I... I mean who?" I was thoroughly confused.

"Barry." She sagged in her chair. "It could be Barry's."

"You've been seeing Barry?" I was astounded and leapt to the wrong conclusion. "During the week? And then coming to me at weekends? What-?"

"No!" she shouted. "How could you even think that? Just listen!"

I was beginning to feel disappointment in her, sadness, and tendrils of angry resentment. "I think I'd better, and this had better be good, Helen."

The tears were coming more freely now, but her look was aggrieved at my attitude. She took a deep sobbing breath and continued. "The doctor reckoned I was just about into the third month of the pregnancy. If you count back, that puts conception towards the end of October."

She stopped and gazed through her tears at me, her eyes begging me to make the connection. I did see it immediately: it was my great triumph, that last Thursday in October - getting her to see the truth that we were not related after all and could have been a couple all along.

"So around the time of the wedding?" I asked by way of checking.

"That's right. You know with the pill I'm taking, I take it for three weeks and then there's a week without pills?"

"Go on!"

"The weekend before you came was hectic with lots to prepare, and mother was panicking and there were too many things to do, and in addition I'd finished a cycle the Thursday before that weekend and was off pills.

"Well on Wednesday, the day before you came, Barry and I knew we wouldn't be together on Thursday or Friday nights, and we'd not been together since the preceding Friday because I was messy, so..."

"You had sex with Barry that Wednesday night," I said bleakly, to save her from having to say it.

"Yes, and we made love again on Thursday morning."

"But you were still protected even during that week."

"Yes. Thursday was my last pill free day before a new cycle. The problem was that you arrived that evening."

"I don't see-"

"You will," she said grimly, and set her face firmly. "After you made your intervention on Thursday evening there was utter chaos: everything was turned upside down.

"You had gone so quickly that I didn't get a chance to talk to you, and I was distraught and panicking, and so was Mum for a different reason, there was a lot of shouting and arguing and screaming, the meal was cancelled and we went home.

"In the car Barry was asking about you and I was totally confused. I'd told him about our problems before, so he told me to go to bed then come and see you first thing on the Friday morning, then to phone him and come back to talk. He was the only one with a clear head.

"I went to bed in tears of despair, and crashed out exhausted. I woke up on Friday morning at five, got in the car and came straight here.

"Then there was our argument, our journey to York to see Barry and my parents, and long talks with my parents after you'd gone until I fell into bed early on Saturday morning. Then there was the reception and meal and my phone call to you on Saturday night.

"After that call I decided that since I had a fortnight's holiday for the honeymoon that wasn't going to happen any more, I'd come over. I just couldn't wait a week! (Barry went on our honeymoon holiday with a mate of his! - I told him to - silly to waste it).

"I came back here on that Sunday as you will remember, I certainly do!" She grinned wanly at me. "Then I went back to York.

"It was Monday morning when I went into the bathroom that I realised I'd missed three days' pills. I phoned the surgery and they said start taking the pills again and I should use condoms for the next week. I told them about Barry and they said the morning after pill was unlikely to work so late.

"I really intended to tell you, but by Friday and all the excitement in the House it slipped my mind until we were on the holiday.

"Anyway, I was back on the pill so I thought I was pretty safe. I phoned the surgery when I got back and they said there was a good chance everything would be fine since I was back on the pill, and it was too late anyway to take any further action other than a termination, should I be pregnant.

"When I started to feel sick in the mornings and my tits felt tender, I began to worry."

She stopped and sighed. "A stupid mistake. It's all my fault. So..."

I thought over what she had told me. No matter how it happened, she was pregnant, but from what she said, I could just as easily be the father. Indeed, Barry had had sex twice, but I'd had it twice on Sunday as well, and then much more often when we were on holiday, so perhaps the odds were in my favour, if favour were the correct term to use in this case.

Helen had slumped back into her chair and seemed content to let me think things out. In fact she read my mind. (What was new?)

"Yes," she said desolately. "Think it through. It's a lot to take in."

"Yes, it is. I think it's better if we talk it out," I said. "First of all, and I think you're well aware of this, I could just as easily be the father as Barry, in fact more probably. He made love to you on Wednesday and Thursday, when you hadn't missed any pills, whereas for us it was twice on Sunday when you had missed them, then again from Friday onwards."

"No matter who's the father, David, I'm keeping the baby. No termination. No adoption. You and me, we're both results of chaotic so-called family lives, and I'm not going to allow any child of mine to travel the road that was forced on us. I don't want any invasive tests on the baby either; if we need to know which of you is the father, we can wait until the baby is born."

"I completely agree," I concurred. "There are quite accurate paternity tests nowadays, so there's a good chance we can find out for certain once the baby is born."