Our Tattered Lives
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2013 by fermpera

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 12 - This is my rewritten,augmented and edited story --Torn lives--. I have to thank two people. My editor Johnny Galt who with his constant prodding, questions and suggestions made that the story changed for the better and I'm also in debt to fellow author CPBaudelaire who the 03/14/12 wrote a number of suggestions to improve the story in his comment to Torn Lives. To both of them many thanks. Fermpera

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Incest   Mother   Son   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Petting   Fisting   Pregnancy  

After that wonderful Christmas evening the next days and weeks were uneventful, snow kept falling and we made the ranch house a living cocoon; we had everything we needed to live our romance undisturbed, leaving the house the minimum required to breathe clean air and walk around. Surely, we made love, she didn't know it, but I was living a dream, a long time dream. The bed was the place where we spent most of the time, but the floor in front of the fire place on a blanket was our favorite place to make love late at night; soft, languid, unhurried sex, with many caresses, kisses and tenderness, everything I had wished for so long and making good use of the love lessons I had taken with Natalie, not so long ago.

The New Year came and went and our love affair was as the first day, our commitment grew and grew with the passing of the days, January gave way to February, and by the end of the month our world seemed to explode into pieces, our romance shatter, and our idyll in ruins.

Natasha got up one morning nauseous and with an upset stomach, after the first symptoms had passed and when she felt better, we examined whether there were any food that might have gone bad and got her sick. It seemed impossible that two adult persons would not think of a possible pregnancy, especially when neither of the two had taken precautions against it.

Natasha, because she believed that she was too old to become pregnant, (although she was still menstruating regularly); and I, well I, because I had no fucking idea about the mysteries of womanhood. I was going to learn quickly about those mysteries with tears of blood. After several days of morning nauseas and stomach cramps, we decided go to see the town doctor; we went to Troy, not Clark Fork, that for no other reason than Natasha didn't like Dr Fergusson, Clark Fork physician.

In Troy the resident physician, after hearing Natasha, sent us to buy a pregnancy test, and oh heavens, the test was positive. He considered that it would be a good idea a pelvic examination by a doctor to be sure of the pregnancy and he did. After wards all hell broke loose. After we left the clinic Natasha, in shock, started giving me the silent treatment; as usual I, the thoughtless moron was the guilty one, we both had made love, we both had enjoyed but it was me who had the guilt of the pregnancy. I was the careless one. The return trip to the ranch was pure torture; she became an ice statue, cold, distant, not answering me when I spoke to her. All of a sudden I was reminded of her, my mother, thirteen years ago when I was a teenager, and the reasons for which I had fled my parent's house and why had I not wanted to see her for so many years. Would history repeat again?

My heart broke in my chest like a fragile crystal vase.

Arriving to the ranch she got down from the car, always silent, and did enter the house, I put the car in the barn and entered the same house not knowing what my role would be from now on. Soon it was made very clear to me,

"John, I need time alone to discern what I'm going to do about this ... this ... this pregnancy, will you please take your clothes and personal things from my bedroom and return to your former room". She told me not looking at me.

I was confounded, aghast, this was the woman I had adored all this years, the woman who had told me she loved me only a few days ago; I almost turned to leave the house and disappear forever. I didn't need this because at no time had she raised the issue of my responsibility or asked if I was willing to take charge of fatherhood.

Common sense told me to cool my mood, women react to the same problem in a different way to men and in the case of pregnancy, their reaction is more visceral more emotional full of fear at the first moment, their vision of life changes in a flash, theirs bodies change and their emotions change sometimes from one day to the other.

So I did make as she said and waited for a few days to see how events unfolded. After I had taken my things from the bedroom, she went inside, closed the door and didn't come out for several days; I heard her come out at night, go to the kitchen, take some food and return to her room. I left her alone.

I don't have a very clear idea how much time she confined herself. Was it a week, ten days?

I cannot say for sure; but when she came out of her room looking for me she told me she had already made a decision about her pregnancy,

She just said: "I'm going to abort before is too late"

I was stunned, speechless, mute, and deaf, with a bitter feeling in the mouth and my stomach decomposed; my head was spinning and I had to take a hold to steady myself and not fall down.

"Say something John, say you agree with me. Say it, please" she said, almost begging.

"What can I say; you have already taken the decision all by yourself, in ten days you haven't even said a word to me; had you asked yourself for a moment what would my feelings be about my son. Because it's my son too; if you don't feel like being a mother again for everything that entails a pregnancy at your age, why for god's sake didn't at least discuss it with me? I'm not a monster I could understand your fears."

It seemed I talked to a deaf, it was evident her mind didn't register anything I said to her, her mind was a cocoon in which she was alone with her thoughts and nothing more did enter, not even when I reacted of my anguish and near paralysis and numbly blurted in a whisper "My name is not John"

She looked at me not understanding, at that moment not even caring shook her head and said; "Never mind that, now, will you take me to the clinic?

I shook my head in despair and without another word I went to prepare the car for the trip. The journey was a repetition of the last one. She silent, adamant in her purpose, I, driving with a doom over my head, thinking of the return and about my future, I decided I would return east, to Boston, and forget, if possible, I have a mother.

It was late evening we arrived in town, almost night, and we had to wait until morning to see the general practitioner of the town who was the only doctor as in many rural areas. Sleeping together would be awkward, since we did not share the bedroom anymore, so I decided moving to a different motel leaving her the car and meeting her at the motel first thing in the morning; I would need to walk a long walk. She didn't oppose the arrangement.

The night was a sleepless one and a journey of introspection of my life; with its highs and lows, with what I did and what I could have done better. And I reached several conclusions. If my mother got an abortion I would leave her life forever, without remorse and trying to overcome the fascination she had exercised over me throughout my life, another of my conclusions was I was so sorry for not having been closer to my father.

In the morning I was haggard, gaunt, with bloodshed eyes but had decided of the steps to follow. I went looking for her, it was a long haul, and when she saw me took a step back and a quick cloud of uncertainty passed over her face; my only words were,

"Good morning, shall we go"

She had uncertainty written all over her face it was clear she hadn't sleep well, maybe not even had slept at all and perhaps she was having second thoughts about the whole situation, I was so distressed at that moment I didn't even care but she answered civilly enough: "Good morning, you don't look well, are you OK".

I didn't want to talk to her, I didn't want to talk to anybody and above everything I didn't want for her to feel sorry or worried for me. At that moment she was less than nothing to me, as the mules I had put blinders on my face and nothing around me interested me. I didn't want to talk her out of her decision, she had made it and it was her burden to carry alone. Sounds childish? Yes it was. I was destroyed and wanted to end the nightmare and go away. Sao I answered her as brutally as I could,

"Don't worry about me, I'm fine" and again "Shall we go"

Without another word she got in the car and we went to her appointment in the clinic.

She explained to the doctor what was happening and what did she want; I had been invited by the doctor to be present in the office, he must had supposed I was her husband or ... something, and when she had finished he looked at me, I stood in silence giving no opinion, and after several seconds he asked Natasha to go up to the gurney to examine her. I didn't want to be present, I didn't want to have nothing to do with what was happening; it was her decision, not mine or ours just hers.

I excused myself and went outside to the corridor to wait the news; after half an hour the doctor's office door opened and I was asked to come inside. Natasha's facial expression was different, I could not read her thoughts, but she seemed at times joyful, at times worried, even preoccupied, but at no time indifferent.

"Well Mr. Sorensen, your wife can't have an abortion, with her age it's very dangerous and her life may be in danger"

I didn't know if that was the truth or if he had convinced her of not aborting or if she had been thinking about it herself and had decided not to; now I was sorry I didn't stay in the room. And I was astounded, Mr. Sorensen!! My wife!! What the hell was happening, what had happened inside that room in that half an hour? But before I could open my mouth to say something, the good doctor followed:

"As I was saying no abortion for your wife, but she is very healthy and there is no reason not to carry the pregnancy to term and have a healthy child. So I wait you again in a month and congratulations", and with that he took my hand in a handshake, dismissing us. Now it was my turn to be silent.

The return trip to the ranch was like a story of another time, she began to speak making plans for the future and at the same time she looked at me with a radiant face; I, contrary to her, didn't respond her and was as silent as death. It was Kafkaesque, and I did not understand her reaction or new attitude; what shows I really know nothing of feminine psychology. When we were approaching the ranch she began to realize I was silent and hadn't said a word, she stopped talking.

When we reached the ranch, I parked in the path and left the car outside the garage, and then I headed straight to my room to prepare my luggage. Natasha followed me and when she saw what I was doing stopped short and couldn't react.

"John, what are you doing? Where are you going? John please we need to talk, I need to explain..."

Now it was me who was deaf and inside my mind, now it was me who didn't listen, "Well, now that you are your own self again, is time for me to go and let you alone, as you wanted" I told her with a bleeding heart.

"John ... what ... what are you talking about; you can't leave me now" she said with a stricken face.

"Well, until this afternoon in the clinic, you didn't want anything to do with – your "husband" -- you even let me go to another place to sleep last night. So I think I have nothing to do here"

"But that's not true, I mean ... Wait a minute, yesterday morning before going to the clinic you told me you were not John, if you are not him, who are you?"

That was a question that once, not so long ago, in my dreams I had wished her to make me, now I wasn't so sure, "Doesn't matter anymore, just keep you healthy for your baby and don't forget in a month you have the good doctor waiting for you, now if you don't mind..."

"But I mind, won't you at least let me explain the last days, what was on my mind, what was in my soul? Why I seemed an autistic. It wasn't that I don't want a child it is I'm afraid, I have a son around your age and my childbirth labor was very long and complicated before his birth." She paused, thinking, I assume, trying to explain herself so she could get to me, to my obtuse mind closed to anything that was not my anguish and sorrow.

"Don't you see it's not I don't love you, it was a surprise knowing I'm pregnant at my age and fear made me act that way; I had always wanted more children but my late husband didn't, to him we had the perfect family and later ... later it was too late for us. And then after so many years I fall in love with you, but, but you are younger than me and I didn't expect ... I was in shock and my reaction was full of fear. I don't know my love it is not easy to explain, but I want us to be together and have the baby and ... and ... and."

And she started sobbing and they were heartbreaking sobs her slim frame shaken as by a storm and I just could no longer pretend indifference, I love her and care about her and her distress was ripping my heart apart. So I took her in my arms and hugged her. She put her head on my shoulder and her sobbing was decreasing until only were jerky sighs.

She looked into my eyes and asked in a faint voice "Will you stay with me now John?"

"Yes I will stay with you, I love you, but I must tell you again my name is not John."

"Yes, yes I think you told me. Who are you?"

"I'm your son, I'm Pierce"

Her face went white as if she had seen a ghost; her hand to her mouth, her eyes popping out of its sockets she started murmuring, "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, not now, not now, it can't be true, can't be true".

 
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