Special Deliveries Ch. 02.2

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Månad nio: skiten slår fläkten (Moon 9—Shhh...It Hits The Fan)

Friday, May 23rd, 2025, 11:04 p.m.

An anxious, worn down and very aggravated Elsa paced, or more accurately, stamped the floor. She no longer minded admitting misjudgment of the manageability of this pregnancy thing. The last trimester illustrated how much more she was getting than bargained for. She'd told Riley the truth; she'd gone through an extensive amount of reading and research prior, but now saw no stretch of studying could fully prepare her for the real thing. For example, what had happened to her last week.

It was now eight days past her due date. The previous week, she thought she was convinced she was in labor, and excited and relieved on a few levels. To Riley's moderate disappointment and Elsa's vast dismay, the baby's arrival was not imminent. The doctor informed her that her labor was false. Elsa couldn't believe it. She dropped her head and sobbed. If this was false, she didn't even want to think about how true labor had to feel.

But moreover, she just wanted this kid out of her already. It was crushing her insides like a watermelon, and she didn't know how much more she could stand. But if she couldn't deliver right now, she'd settle for a prescription of morphine. Something. Anything.

Her wife was stationary on the couch, sitting up but struggling to stay awake. It had been a long work week for her. Again. But Elsa frankly resented her being able to sleep. She hated herself for it, and the last thing she wanted to be was selfish, but really couldn't help it just now. Truly, Elsa resented her for not having a giant fetus in her tummy wreaking havoc on her internal organs. For the first six or seven months, she told herself over and over she couldn't be pissed over this. That wouldn't be fair; she'd one hundred percent volunteered to carry this kid, and assured Riley she could handle it. Finding out I was kind of wrong, that's a little fairer.

Well... from what the docs and guidebooks had told them, there was one thing she could do to hurry this along. And she guessed she didn't technically need Riley for it, but oh, would it make it easier. And while they'd not explicitly had this conversation, both preferred tandem to solo. Elsa waddled over and gave Riley a gentle shake awake.

"Riley... Riley, honey... honey, wake up."

Riley came to. "Mm!... Hmm?"

"Sweetie?" said Elsa. "Um...could you... could you please try to make me cum? I really wanna get this to happen already."

"Oh...uh..." Yawn. "Mm-kay."

Riley pushed herself up from the sofa, touched a hand to the wall for balance, and followed Elsa to the bedroom. Once inside, she shut the door, unfastened and began pulling down Elsa's overalls. Suspenders off, Elsa removed her top. Once Riley got her bottoms off, the naked Mamma-to-be backed to the bed and let herself tumble in.

"Ooof."

She sighed, shut her eyes and fondled her tits. Riley opened the toy drawer and retrieved a viber she believed was freshly charged.

"Okay, wifey, spread 'em."

Elsa obeyed. Another moment later, she heard the viber hum to life, and felt it discreetly placed upon her clit. After several seconds, hot lust built within, and began mounting a defense of goodness and passion against her discomfort. It took another minute or five, but she began to feel her juices warming, accelerating through her system. Her puffy pink nipples twitched, giving supplementary crackles and sparks of pleasure. Her pussy began to pulsate and dampen. She felt still mentally dazed, but tried diligently to focus and think of hot, sexy things. Like the first time Riley took her home from the agency, stripped her nude... Oh, ja, back when my body was slim and petite...stop that, Elsa; we're concentrating us on the sex right now.

So she went on, taking herself back to that very first night, when Riley nosedove into her tummy, and gave it a tongue bath. Her pleasure multiplied exponentially. After enough "belly worship" sessions with Riley—pregnant and not—Elsa'd determined her affinity for it was an absolute fetish and naught less. Girls didn't get sizzled up randy as weasels off mere amusement.

As the balloon of lusty happiness swelled, Elsa felt her tension melting away. Part of her willing their unborn daughter to look away from what her Mommies were doing, the rest of her was starting to burst. Her feet and toes respectively shook and curled. Her cunt pounded and quaked. Her sweat glands set to action. Her breasts proudly heaved, nipples stiff and erect as she fingered them. Her head burrowed further back. Her mouth hungrily grooooooooaned for the release only Riley Hutchins could give. She could faintly hear Riley praise her, "Good girl, hon... 'atsa girl. Just let it happen. Cum for me. Be my good girl. Cum for wifey."

Elsa wanted to encourage her to keep saying "cum," and she would—monstrously—but her mouth and word-forming faculties were otherwise occupied. Riley wiggled the viber just slightly up and down, back and forth on Elsa's now engorged, rock-hard clitty, and rubbed her labia with her auto-lubricant. It felt so astonishing, Elsa's eyes rolled straight back and saw actual fireworks go off. Literal and legitimate. They made no sound over her caterwauls, but there was no mistaking them. It wouldn't be long now. Elsa found herself becoming more excited and ecstatic than she remembered being in months.

This is gonna make it happen! she thought. I just know it is!

This scenario—minus the viber and the moaning—reminded Riley of massaging primrose oil into Elsa's taint. Come to think of it, that did seem to give the dolly a little jolly, by golly. A bit of a bonus, as it were. So Riley moistened her thumbtip with the pussy lube and added this to her blend of elements. She smiled with warm love and benevolent satisfaction as she read the signs. Elsa was approaching the edge. Her cunt was practically beeping, and may as well have been giving off smoke. Oh, this was going to be rewarding. Riley could almost hear their newborn baby crying now. She could almost... almost... ALMO—...

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrnnnn...nnn.

Something abysmal happened.

The vibrator died. Mere seconds before Elsa could cum.

Elsa's hands dropped from her boobs in alarm. She felt herself suddenly left high, cold and dry. As nice as the touch of Riley's digits was, it couldn't compare to the realm-shattering vibing on her clit. She mashed her ired paws in the mattress and pushed herself up.

"Va—...wh-wha—...w—NO!!... Riley! What the fuck! What happened?!!"

Riley was flabbergasted. She'd really believed this toy had its full hours of power to give. She was so sure! She could swear it! Had she been thinking quick and on her toes, she'd have seized the reflexes, and dived into Elsa's clit to take over with her mouth. It might not have compared either, but... she had to do something. She frantically started going down on her.

"...Wh-he-hey, hey! St—no! Stop it!" Elsa whined. "Stop! I'm..."

Having cupped Elsa's deflating clit in her lips, Riley looked up mid-suck. Her heart broke as Elsa sighed in disappointed disdain.

"...Riley, I'm so not in the mood anymore. It's... it's gone."

Her clit audibly pop-squished out of Riley's mouth. She could see it in Elsa's face, even as she let herself back down and whimpered. The frustration could be cut with a knife. It was a matter of seconds, but that was all it took for Elsa to be denied her orgasm and utterly lose the mojo. Riley froze as she watched her bride begin to throw a tantrum. Almost instantly, Elsa began bawling and punishing the mattress. Riley tried to wait for a lull in the nonverbal tirade and apologize.

"El-Elsa, honey, I am so sorry! I-I thought it was totally charged, I really di—"

Elsa SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAMed. It was the most furious, vicious outburst Riley had heard since her childhood. She almost went right into trauma panic mode. But she forced herself to take a deep, deep breath, and calm down.

"Elsa, please, I'm so s—"

Elsa could take nothing in this moment. She could bear no more. She'd lost hold and sight of the end of her rope.

Riley couldn't believe what she did next.

Elsa lifted a foot, put it to Riley's sternum and shoulder, and shoved her away as hard as she could manage.

"SHUT UP!! Just get away from me! Just fuck off!! Leave me alone!!"

If the thrust of her leg and foot didn't knock Riley off the bed, the magnitude of this broadside did. She tumbled off and fell to the floor with an "OH!" Elsa heard it, and wanted to feel horrible and apologize back. She really wanted to. And she would have... but she'd already had it. She couldn't care. It wasn't a matter of trying; caring was simply out of her hands. She was already screaming and crying like a madwoman, which she all but was. This should have happened. She should've cum! She should've gone into labor!

Riley lay on the floor, panting out loud in mental paralysis. She'd landed on her hip, which would've hurt right now...if she'd felt it. But she couldn't feel physical pain. She was sheerly, utterly and literally floored. There was no way that had just happened. There was no way this girl, Elsa Helena Jansson, the sweetest, most gentle, loving soul she'd ever met, could have done something like that. But she did. Riley didn't know what to think right now. Elsa's hollers and wails continued to startle and spook her. But now her mind was ruled by a new emotion. She pushed to her feet and raised her voice.

"I don't believe what you just did to me. I cannot fucking believe you just did that to me! I did nothing to deserve that, Elsa; I didn't do anything vindictive or malicious to you! I made one honest mis—"

Elsa just didn't want to hear it. She reached up under her head, grabbed the first pillow she could clutch on to, and threw it.

Whap. "Y—" Riley half-caught and half-absorbed the pillow like a dodgeball. She marched to the head of the bed.

Whap! "One..." Whap! "Honest..." Whap! "Mistake!" she asserted, swatting Elsa with the pillow and flinging it back down. "I'm not in-fucking-fallible, y'know, Elsa! I try, but I fuck up now and then! 'S called being human! And being human comes with feelings! I may not be pregnant, but my feelings are still there and I'm still vulnerable! And you still fucking HURT ME!!"

She screamed these final two words as point-makingly loud and hard as she could. This outburst of her own triggered her dam to collapse. She turned her back to Elsa, whose tantrum had drained her stamina. And with no more energy to yell and shout, she as well only sobbed. She held the pillow over her face, unable to look at Riley. Creeping back towards rationality and reason, she felt her own feelings getting the better of her. It was her turn to wait for a spell of silence to communicate.

"Mmf hwahwuh."

"Fuck you too!" Riley leveled over her shoulder.

Elsa whipped the pillow off her face. "I said I'm sorry!!" she shouted through the sting of tears in her eyes and nose.

Riley was abruptly glad she was turned around so Elsa couldn't see the expression this put on her face. She somberly ambled to the dresser, adhered her palms, and looked straight down. Right now she just had to divert her mind by doing something plain and innocuous. Like studying the unique, fingerprint-like pattern in the wood. This newest exchange had set off another reaction of Elsa tears, but Riley could hear a distinction in these. These tears were not shed out of self-righteous anger or vengeance. This crying was purely contrite. It told Riley she really was sorry. Which made her feel a little better... but she wasn't ready to cry the same way yet.

A few more minutes went by, until Elsa rolled over and up from the bed. She took her time getting to her feet, and another moment later, Riley felt Elsa's tummy gently press into her back, and then her arms around her middle. And a whispering tearful voice.

"I didn't mean it."

Riley shook her head.

"Sometimes not having meant it isn't enough, Elsa. I'm..."

Sniffle, sniffle. "...I-I can't believe I'm saying this, but, I'm starting to wonder, for the first time... if this is actually meant to be, between us. If you really were put on this planet to be my bride, and me yours... if you actually are my soulmate."

Elsa hugged her tight and snug. "Darling, of course I am! I'm... please believe me, I'm so so sorry it took something like this to...y'know... bring me back to my senses. I'm just so sore and frustrated and this is so uncomfortable, and I just want it over with, and... when the vibrator stopped just before I came, it was like the last straw broke. The...camel's back. Whatever the expression is."

One tear each slipped from Riley's closed eyes.

"God, Els... I don't wanna break up over this. I really do love you. ...Although now, I guess I kinda know how Kellie felt."

"...And, now I suppose I know how you felt. I... gosh, you know, all those years ago I tried to apologize in advance for all the things I'd do wrong, but...I couldn't imagine something like this. ...I really didn't mean it, Riley, I swear. I-I just snapped! Baby, I love you too! I can't even say how heartbroken I'd be if we got split up or divorced. ...Not to mention where I'd go," she added in a whisper.

Another few moments of terse silence. Elsa kissed her shoulder blade.

"Förlåt; jag är ledsen jag var så dum."

Even as a happy couple overall, they'd had enough fights in nine years for Riley to know this was her Swedish apology. Part of her still wanted to be too proud to accept it. Until she felt Elsa start to sadly withdraw her arms and retreat.

Riley couldn't let her give up and turn away. She whirled on Elsa and hugged back as hard and tight as she could. Elsa resumed her embrace, sniffled, and summoned the courage to say what was coming next.

"Riley... um... I have to tell you something."

They slowly broke from the hug.

"What?"

Elsa inhaled, winced, shut her eyes, and spat it out.

"...Part of me doesn't want to have this baby."

"What?? But, but... the whole thing was your idea."

"I know. And I'm sorry, Riley, I could apologize till I'm blue in the face. I know it was my idea, and I know I said I'd carry it. But... yes. There is something wrong. ...There was something wrong every time you asked me and I denied it, ever since we found out what it is. I... I'm so ashamed to say this, but...

"...I really didn't want it to be a girl."

Riley was overcome by surprise. Before she could ask why on Earth not, Elsa went on.

"Riley, I... I can deal with everything else. And I say all of this with nothing but love: ...I can live with being on my own for ten hours a day. I can live with you pinching my ass and tickling my feet while I'm cleaning. I can live with you putting your lotion-y feet on the floor without a towel. Or your silly crush on Olivia Newton-John you never let me forget about. Or strangers wanting to feel my belly without asking. I can live with the heat in the summer, the humidity, the crickets, the smell of Raid, and you thinking I'm a pussy 'cause I can't kill them. I can even live with the vibrator dying on me before I cum. But... there was a reason I picked and named Tiger, and... there was a reason all those baby names I gave you could be either boy names or girl names."

She paused. Riley blinked several times, a fuzzy view of Elsa jumping between her eyes. So there was a theme in those baby names.

"Okay...well, uh... then I'll return the favor and say that—also nothing intended but love and honesty—I can live with you being at home while I'm at work... your belly-licking fetish thing... your gay sausage porn, you pussy-teasing me, you tickling my feet with that friggin' lotion... and having to kill the bugs and clean the litter box. But... tell me. Why didn't you want it to be a girl?"

Elsa furrowed her brows abashedly and dropped her eyes. She took Riley's hands and led her back to the bed.

"...Riley, I have a story to tell you too. I wish I'd told you this before. When I was really really little, my father died in a plane crash."

"Oh god, that's awful. ...I-I knew your Dad died early, but I didn't know how."

"Yeah, so...I never really knew him. So I was raised pretty much complete by my mother. She talked about him now and then, but... I get the feeling she never got out of denial about him, somehow. So...there was that, first of all. And...things with her were fine, till I was 14 or 15. Then it was like she...looked at me and treated me different. I... I guess I was pretty...or am, and... I honestly think she was jealous of me. Of my looks. There were just some things about the way she acted. Maybe there was some bitterness over losing my Dad that she never really let go of, but for the rest of my teens... she didn't treat me very good. I wasn't sure if she loved me anymore. Sometimes I'd cry, or be dramatic, I guess, and...and... one day she told me she wished I was a boy. Her son."

Riley's eyebrows jumped and her mouth opened. "She...just said that, right to your face?? That's awful!"

"Yeah, it made me feel pretty shit. So, and our relationship never really improved. And...when I was 19, she died. Of pneumonia."

Riley's eyes widened. "You mean..."

Elsa nodded. "Yeah. ...She was Vana."

"...Wow."

"It... it just made me hate being a girl, Riley. She..." Sigh. "...She made me hate myself. And my 'Volvo.' And, it's-it's not like I hate other females. I certainly don't hate you. Or your Moms. I love you and them, so much. But, I..."

She began to cry again, feeling her heart break reliving the sorrow.

"...I do hate my mother. At least I hate how she treated me. And I hate that she's gone and that she went to the grave still wishing I was her son, and still making me feel bad for being her daughter."

Those last words broke Riley's heart along with her own.

"God," she murmured. "...Guess we both have some Mom issues. So, you wish we weren't having a girl because..."

"Mm-hm... because I am absolutely terrified I'd do the same thing to her. She soured me on being female, and I just... I just don't wanna do that to our daughter. ...I confess, I never had an ex-girlfriend named Monica or a bully named Annie. I'm sorry I made them up, that just wasn't an easy conversation for me. I'm-I'm just not sure I'd know how to love this baby like a mother should."

"But... but, Elsa, I think your instinct'll point you in the right direction. I mean, your intentions are clearly honorable. The way you're talking sure sounds like you love her—our daughter, that is—or at least you really really wanna. If you say you hate your mother, I won't argue with you, but when we first met, I didn't think you were capable of hate. But I guess that's narrow-minded of me. Anyway, maybe... maybe you feel like you don't know any better, and I guess I get that. B—...y'know what? You know what I think you should do? I think we should talk to my Moms, and you should tell them what you just told me. They're pretty smart. I bet they could give you some guidance and make you feel better. You can call them Mom too, y'know. Just like they told you that first Easter."