The Wilderness

I was in Love.......a feeling I realized I'd never truly known before. In quiet moments, when he didn't think I was looking, I notice him staring at me. I knew he felt the same. Even back in the 'real world', the connection between he and I sucked all the air out of the room.

Davey lived nearby and was constantly at our apartment. Despite having a new girlfriend at the time, he and I settled into a relationship that, to the outside observer, would have cynically described as 'friends with benefits'. But we knew it was much deeper and meaningful than that. No matter in what physical way he showed it, Davey's every waking action was to make me happy, fulfilled, and safe.

Despite that 'one night' ....the night of my wild crazed orgy ...... the three of us never again had a threesome. That didn't mean I didn't have very strong emotional and sexual feelings for both Bo and Davey. With no discussion or planning, my physical relationship continued naturally and equally with Bo and Davey, both men respecting the importance and connection each brought to my life without jealousy or resentment.

One night, Bo came home to find Davey in the bathroom with me washing my enormous stomach as I lay in the bath. Very pregnant, my breasts huge and swollen, my pussy clearly visible through my spread legs in the water.

Coming in to kiss me, Bo asked if I was OK. After I assured him that I was and that Davey had been invaluable that day taking me to doctor's appointments, Bo thanked him and excused himself to work on the final few chapters of his Masters' thesis.

Finishing my bath, Davey carefully helped me out of the bathtub and followed my naked and enormously pregnant form waddling to the bedroom, where I laid back on our bed as he lazily rubbed lotion into the stretched and taunt skin of my stomach and breasts. Inhaling the wonderful floral scent and feeling the tingling menthol and peppermint oils on my skin, he spread more lotion onto my thighs and hips. At complete ease, I suggestively spread my legs wider, his fingers quickly finding my inflamed sex while resting his other hand on my swollen belly.

Hearing my rising moans, Bo called out from the other room to see if I needed anything.

"No.....", I groaned, "......we are just fine", just as a wonderful orgasm washed over me.

As I recovered, Davey stepped off the bed and casually took off his clothes. Leaning over to push down his underpants, I watched his beautifully hard penis spring free. I looked at it and him, relishing the many moments of pleasure he and it had given me over the last six months. Crawling back onto the bed with me, I turned my back to him, the 'spooning' position about the only way I could comfortably have sex at this point.

Positioning himself, Davey pushed into me carefully and wrapped his arms around me, embracing me tightly as he thrust calmly while fondling my nipples and supporting my heavy belly. My breathing becoming louder and tense, Bo walked into the room while Davey continued his long deep penetrations. Kneeling beside the bed near my head, Bo smiled and leaned in to kiss my lips.

"I guess we are NOT going out for supper tonight. What say you if I go down and get Take-Away? Would you like that? I'll be back in 20 minutes".

Gasping, I looked over at Bo and smiled, before closing my eyes again to lose myself in another wonderful tingling little orgasm. Coming down from my latest blissful peak, I surrendered to a drowsy daze while Davey continued his rhythmic thrusting. Feeling the heft of my stomach shifting, I was suspended in a dreamlike state, reflecting on my life at that moment and, ironically, how everything seemed to have converged through my vagina. I was in heaven.

Awaking a couple hours later, the baby pressing on my bladder caused me to get up to use the toilet. Afterward, I found Bo asleep on the couch in the dark, surrounded by books and papers, snoring softly, while back in the bedroom Davey lay naked on top of the bed covers. Admiring his beautiful body, I reached for his flaccid penis and shuffled across the bed to take him into my mouth. In only a few minutes, Davey was wide awake and ready, as I awkwardly straddled him, very carefully lowering myself, canting my hips at an angle that I could take his full length within me without hurting.

Blame it on the hormones of pregnancy, but over the last month I was feeling a deep, quaking, yearning in my body that I'd never felt before. Well into my third trimester of pregnancy I'd been insatiable, needing frequent sex and experiencing a new kind of the most wonderful warm and fuzzy orgasms. While not cataclysmic earth-shattering in nature, the orgasms that Davey visited on me easily and frequently over the course of that night of our leisurely lovemaking, were amazing. Feeling Davey approaching his own ejaculation many times, he'd stop and struggle to control himself, his strained deep-breathing marking his focused effort to hold off, before resuming his gentle thrusting once his impending release had passed.

People may laugh and not believe me, but I know that Davey was denying his own climax just so that he could keep me suspended in a perpetual state of sensory bliss, making love to me for hours. It wasn't until I saw Bo standing in the darkened doorway stroking his hard cock, that I told Davey he could finally let himself go, which he did with urgent rapid thrusting before exploding in me.

Moving off Davey, I rolled onto my chest, crushing my now enormous breasts, my ass stuck high in the air to take weight off my belly, my sodden vulva gapping in anticipation. Bo mounted from behind and eased into me, where he proceeded with his own gift of sexual therapy at an easy pace. Leaning over me, he wrapped his hands around my stomach in a loving display of protection and wonder. I silently wept at the intensity of emotion symbolized by this man protecting his family against all perils. Unlike my own father and millions like him, I knew Bo would never leave me. Never leave us.

Looking back, I can honestly say I lost count of my orgasms after twelve or thirteen. A baker's dozen of small and frequent raptures that enthralled me the entire night. In my joy and generosity, I sent the cosmos my silent hope that other women were experiencing similar pleasures at the height of their own journeys to motherhood.

It was at rare times like these that I considered that there might actually be a God, and briefly thought of Paul with nagging remorse. I hoped he would find his own genuine happiness.

Thinking back to the weeks following my homecoming, I'd felt like a stranger in my own community. I had hoped that my betrayal would remain a private matter between Paul and I, but it was soon evident that our network of friends and acquaintances somehow knew. No one overtly said anything, but uncomfortable greetings in the streets and silence from a cellphone that normal blew up all day long with text messages and calls, was telling.

Even my closest girlfriends clumsily avoided me, which hurt. I didn't expect them to approve of my actions, but I had expected them to at least listen and be supportive.... especially since my long-denied dream of becoming a mother was coming true. After all, I had done the same for many of them, often finding themselves in similar situations, unexpectantly pregnant. Frequently by another married man. At least my actions had not broken up another family.

Though unsaid, I knew they viewed my sin as being worse. I had sacrificed everything.......for a black man.

CHAPTER 13

Throughout those weeks of isolation and self-doubt in my empty house, Grandpa Dave proved to be a lifesaver. The Summer Camp season now over, unbeknownst to me one of Dave Thompson's sisters lived in my hometown. Out of the blue he called me one afternoon to say he was in town and wondered if he could visit. Overjoyed and terrified at the same time, I watched his truck pull up, my fears melting at the genuine warmth in his smile as I crumbled into a sobbing mess once he'd walked up the porch stairs and taken me into his arms.

I was aware that Grandpa Dave knew about the pregnancy and Bo, but didn't know how much he knew about those weeks in the wilderness, including my sexual relationship with Davey.

Unable to pour the coffee I'd offered, he rescued the sloshing carafe from my trembling hands and had me sit down. In my kitchen we talked for hours as the room darkened with the setting sun. Other than joking about his prostate and my pregnancy bladder during our frequent bathroom breaks, we did nothing that day but sit, talk, and listen.

Over the next few weekend visits, he came to know it all. Emboldened by the connection we'd felt since our first meeting that summer, I found myself revealing all the torments swirling within me. The sordid details and broader philosophical questions I was struggling with. He admitted that initially he was conflicted as a protective grandfather to both Davey and Bo. But reflecting on his own life of almost 77 years, he knew that the human experience was a complicated road with many twists and turns.

Moreover, he'd long-ago boiled his personal world view into a few simple truths. Honesty. Happiness. Self-Fulfillment. Being True to Yourself. All of these eclipsed society's rules, because at the end of a life, there were no Do-Overs or points given for unjustified self-sacrifice and good behavior. You either lived and was loved. Or you weren't.

He didn't sugar coat it. There would be consequences for my actions. But he did understand. As a widower after 58 years of an imperfect marriage, and having three sisters, he was surprisingly mindful of a woman's life experience. We discussed everything. Sometimes in surprisingly candid and embarrassing detail. And he listened without judgement, as I tried to work-out.....more for myself than him .... the various logical and illogical desires, actions, and weaknesses I struggled with.

Some of these I doubt I could have discussed with even my closest female confidants. But by then I was the daughter he'd never had, and he was the father-figure I'd missed most of my life. Rational and mature conversations about life was what Dave gave me.

He also honestly answered all my own questions about what a Man's experience and desires - both sexual and emotional - were, from boyhood through old age. At times we even giggled at the surprising candor our discussions took. This almost-Octogenarian, trying to explain the sexual drives and urges of men throughout the various phases of their lives. Without shame, he explained that while those days were long behind him, he'd lived through.....and survived..... his own chapters of imprudent sexual experiences, love-lost, love-found, marriage, children, multiple careers, grandchildren, personal loss, and now loneliness, as time started to take away the people and foundations of his long life. As a man, he understood. As a Lover, he understood. As a husband, he understood. As a community Elder, he understood. As my friend, he understood.

Once, he accompanied me on a busy and daunting day of doctors and lawyers' appointments. At every office you couldn't help but notice the curious stares as people obviously assumed that Grandpa Dave was the cause of my pregnancy and divorce. Smirking at each other, we'd clandestinely enjoyed people's struggles to remain professional while they were privately speculating at Dave's prowess in bed and the virility needed to entice a woman almost forty-five-years his junior, into a life of lusty immorality. On the surface, we shared a laugh at how preposterous it was. But privately, I sometime wondered....... What could have been possible, if things and times had been different?

Even more shamefully, I'd caught myself wondering a few times at his physical endowment and what kind of lover he had been. By his own admission, his intimate relationship with his wife had been an active and creative one, despite being children of the late-1940's and the prudish post-war generation. He claimed to love giving and receiving oral sex with his wife, and once they'd even purchased a vibrating dildo at a sex shop during a trip to New York City.

After an early period of traditional marital relations and the birth of their two sons, they quickly expanded their private bedroom escapades with the help of various books and toys. With a chuckle, Dave admitted that these may not have been as 'private' as they had assumed, their son's recently laughing during a booze-fueled Thanksgiving gathering at the noises they'd frequently heard through their parent's door as children.

Recognizing my ongoing struggles over my actions of that summer - namely the sexual tryst I'd had with multiple sex partners outside of my marriage - Dave revealed a huge secret to me. I wasn't alone in my carnal misdeeds.

They, too, had once had an unexpected threesome with a friend of his.

For Dave's 30^th birthday, the kids had been sent to stay with grandparents while he, his wife and his best friend had celebrated with an evening of fine dining and dancing at a club.

Carefree and childless for the first time in years, the evening quickly turned heated with lots of alcohol, flirting, and barely concealed groping. Knowing his wife, he had watched fascinated as her increasingly unguarded behavior clearly indicated her excitement and arousal around both her husband..... and his friend. The final hour before the club closed, Dave had sat at their table watching as she and the friend danced continuously in a manner which, at that time, was quite scandalous. The grinding and grabbing, by both of them, had been blatant.

By the time they'd got home, his wife was so hot and horny that she attacked Dave moments after they'd closed the front door. Oblivious to their guest, he'd stripped her naked and fondled her breasts and fingered her burning sex, pushing her to a level of desperation that had her in a delirious frenzy. In a moment of madness, he'd teased her about her open lust for the other man that night, asking if she was curious what it would be like...... and then invited his friend to take her. It had been impulsive and consensual. And unprotected. She was an unhinged animal that night, insatiable for hours as they took turns with her, until they all collapsed in exhaustion on the living room floor as the sun started to come up.

Afterward, he and his wife had discussed their conflicting emotions about the encounter. She felt guilty but admitted that the wild and crazy night had been an unrealized fantasy come true. But, she was terrified that Dave would leave her despite his clear enablement in the affair. She reassured him that her lustful desire was not so much about his friend per se, but given her limited life experience, a curiosity about what it would be like to be with another man. It was only because of her comfort with the friend and her husband's clear encouragement that she had been able to open herself to such an experience.

Surprisingly open-minded about female sexuality for a man of his generation, Dave had realized that his wife had been a virgin when they wed and might, unsurprisingly, have secret questions about her sexual desires and fulfillment with another person.

He rationalized his acceptance because he loved his wife and didn't want her to have any regrets in her life. To never have doubts or misgivings about her decision to marry him. Eventually he came to accept it when he realized there was a difference between Love and Sex. His wife loved him. This had only been sex.

Despite his very modern perspective, he admitted that night that he'd felt some selfish jealousies and fears as he watched his wife experience multiple gigantic and unrepentant orgasms by another man. While the female orgasm was seldom considered in those days, let alone deemed the topic of polite discussion, he couldn't help but feel insecure at the obvious and uninhibited enjoyment she'd had with him, and the many 'raptures' she'd had.

While she'd claimed to love sex with her husband, he could never recall her experiencing the same 'explosive satisfaction' when they'd Made Love. In retrospect, it was likely that the silent social constraints on women that prevail to this day, meant a "good wife" didn't enjoy such things, let alone seek them out. The sad truth was that married sex, while sanctified by the church and community, still restrained a woman's ability to pursue her unfettered enjoyment of the act, never fully surrendering to her desires and pleasure. Even in the privacy of her own bedroom, what would her husband think if she voiced her own unladylike urges and fantasies? Sometimes it took breaking some of the rules, to ignore ALL the rules.

Seeing her that night, not as his wife, but as an uninhibited sexual being, had been breath-taking, forever seared in his memory as he'd watched his wife lay there recovering. He'd stared in rapt fascination at many signs of her physical sexual arousal, as another man's seed leaked from between her legs. Fortunately, within a few days Mother Nature quickly revealed that she wasn't pregnant, and their one-time escapade was consigned to an eternal secret between husband and wife.

Until the three of them met again at a friend's wedding a few months later.

After some uncomfortable moments between them, as the evening progressed with more dancing and drinking, so did the relaxed and intimate mood, leading to increasingly overt references to 'that night'. She had blushed and feigned anger at the progressively lurid conversation, but Dave couldn't help but notice the look of hunger she gave his friend and her nervous silent pleas when she glanced back at Dave.

Later, returning to the friend's hotel room, a discussion meant to 'clear the air', quickly evolved into her admitting her acceptance and enjoyment at what they'd done. Fueled by the booze and romance of the wedding, Dave was soon watching his friend and wife passionately kissing and caressing each other. Her intentions clear, she'd walked over to her husband and teasingly asked him to unzip her dress. That was the last time he'd touched his wife that night.

They had a total of four encounters. The first, in their home, Dave had participated. The second and third he was an observer only, as his wife had rolled a condom onto her lover and laid back to receive him. There had been an unspoken understanding that while these transgressions had been for her pleasure and sexual fulfillment, it was not a secret or betrayal since Dave was present. She would never do this behind his back. Or without his consent. She loved her husband and wanted him to be part of, or at least be a witness to, her experience.

However, the night of the fourth, his wife had nervously asked him if they could be alone. A little stunned and upset, Dave had offered to 'go for a walk', but instead had sat downstairs in the living room listening to their muffled cries above him as the bed violently knocked against the wall.

But what disturbed him the most was how long it went on. Their previous adventures had been relatively brief and intense events. Quick mutual sexual gratification fueled by booze and the erotic atmosphere. This time everyone was sober, and they seemed to share a more emotional connection, the intensity in their longing looks and foreplay clear before Dave had left them. Dave listened for hours as they enjoyed each other's bodies before all became quiet upstairs.

Eventually working up the nerve to peer into the silent bedroom, he saw the two of them asleep, naked, wrapped in each other's arms. As any husband and wife might do.

Dave admitted that had been the most frightening moment of his life. As before, he watched transfixed as evidence of her insemination leaked from her womb .... and rectum. Shocked, as they had never even discussed anal sex before, he was tormented at the thoughts of what else she had allowed, that she'd denied her husband?