Chapter 2: Best Chance

Friday, Bill Pierce finished the August 31 Chicago Tribune he’d got that morning, put the sports section in front, and folded it under his arm. He knew Carolyn read when he was gone, but they didn’t discuss the outside world. The real news of the week was Carolyn’s pregnancy, and the Tribune didn’t cover that.

He planned to take her out for dinner. She was responsible for dinners at home -- except for her crush times, when he bought take-out. He was responsible for dinners out, and they hadn’t had as many of those as the budget called for. She greeted him with a welcome-home kiss when he came in. Then she followed him back to the car.

The restaurant was one they’d visited during their courtship. The food was good, the service not fancy, and the prices reasonable. She ate with an appetite which might have been whetted by not having to cook the food.

“Really,” he told her. “You know, we haven’t done this enough.”

“I’ll probably be cooking less.” Well, that would be reasonable. “And, anyway, we’ll need any money we can save.” Even so, the expenses of pregnancy and childbirth -- even with good health insurance -- would put buying a few extra restaurant meals in the shade.

“It’s not enough to make a difference, and we’ll need any Carolyn we can save more.”

She said, “I’m fine. I’ve been indulging myself.” Had she? It seemed to him that she’d been indulging him, and not only at the table.

“Both of us.” Was that clear? “You’ve been indulging both of us.”

If so, she continued to indulge him. Sex was lovely that night, and she fell asleep in his arms.

They were lying apart that morning, though, when her alarm rang. It was hers, and he ignored it, although some stray question as to why she’d set an alarm before his waking time tried to insinuate itself into his sleeping brain.

She was back in the room by the time his alarm rang.

“Don’t shower. I’m cooking breakfast.” Those were interesting data. She obviously had something planned. Well, he’d go along with it. But first, what did going along with it mean?

“Shave?”

“Definitely shave.” Which seemed to mean that she would want some kisses. That was fine, because he’d want some kisses, too.

Breakfast was her cheese omelet. Carolyn cooked a variety of dinners, prepared a diverse selection of lunches on Saturdays -- most, but not all, based on left-overs from the dinners. She only cooked him two breakfasts, either cheese or western omelet. Since that was twice as many dishes as he cooked for breakfast, he was well pleased. The girl tended to eat cereal when she got up late. The meal was delicious, and he said so.

“Just let those soak,” she said when he got up to clear the table. Actually, he’d planned to, anyway. “I’m going back to bed.” That was more interesting news. And, when he got into the bedroom, there was a naked Carolyn lying on her belly. She wasn’t even covered by a sheet.

“What does this mean?” Her plans were looking more interesting every minute, but not necessarily clearer.

“Well, the doctor said that any sexual activity that felt comfortable to me would be perfectly safe for the baby. And I’ve been wondering what this would feel like when you’re not mad at me.” They’d only had sex with her lying on her belly -- as opposed to rear-entry with both on their sides, which they’d done several times -- once. It had marked one of their more vociferous arguments, and he’d not wanted to suggest it again in case the argument had turned her against it. “Well, this is likely to get uncomfortable awfully early. It’s not really our last chance, but it might well be our best chance.”

“You’re sweet.” And she was. She was offering more variety while they still could. He joined her in bed.

“You, too, and awfully cooperative.”

“After all, you have a program for our having fun together. It would be stupid of me to interfere.” But, her program or not, this was obviously the time for him to act. He kissed where her neck met her shoulders, then trailed kisses down her spine. He kissed every vertebra once, sometimes twice. He used the backs of his fingernails to scratch her thighs. As his kisses got lower on her back, he stroked between her thighs to her snatch. She spread her legs to give him room. He stroked the lips of her snatch as his mouth approached the small of her back. When he kissed the last vertebra before her spine disappeared between her buns, these looked like appealing targets.

“You know, you are full of beauty,” he told her. “I only mention some of your beauty, but I appreciate much more than I mention.” He kissed each of her buns. Then he raised his head to complete the thought. “Your buns, for example. I certainly appreciate the view from in front, but you’re lovely from in back, too.”

Well, enough of the verbal appreciation. He stroked the lips of her snatch again, this time reaching down to her nub. He didn’t want to be fumbling around with that, and fumbling was a real danger when his head was engaged in kissing so far from his hand. When he was certain he knew where he was, he went back to kissing her vertebrae, this time bottom-to-top.

Carolyn tensed. He wouldn’t be able to see her go over from this position, but he could damn-well feel her go over. Her buns firmed under his hand and the muscles of her back were tight under his face. He was nearly holding his breath by the time he got to the top of her spine. Maybe some kisses on where the neck joined the shoulders would take her over. He needn’t have worried. She shuddered; her legs closed around his hand; she raised and lowered her buns three times. Her exhalation was something between a gasp and a sigh.