Chapter 9: Penny from Heaven

Eric Stewart loved his wife Candy, and he was determined that he would love her son, too. He had never expected that he’d ever have a relationship with someone as beautiful as Candy, let alone marry someone like that. He was quite clear that she wouldn’t have married him if she weren’t pregnant and desperate. Well, he’d be a good husband and a good father. That was what she would need.

They would need a larger apartment, and he found them one. It was on the “first floor,” which meant a half-floor walkup from the entry, but the stairs were on the inside. There were only two steps up from the street to the outside door. He was afraid of her slipping on the outside stairs when the weather turned cold, and she didn’t seem to be aware of that danger. Candy approved of his choice, and, as far as he could see, approved sincerely.

After Candy went for an ultrasound, he changed his determination to being a good parent to Candy’s daughter. His closest observations of parents were of the Pierces, and they had twin sons. The twins were, even at their young age, explicitly male. Bill held them upside down and taught them to play ball games. So, his picture of being a good parent to a girl was a little vague. Did fathers teach girls to toss a football?

Still, he’d do what was needed, and he hoped that Candy, despite her diffidence, would tell him what she wanted. That, after all, was what mattered. Bill argued with his wife, Carolyn, about child-raising methods (and about almost everything else). That was not something Eric was going to do. In the second place, Candy was so diffident and apologetic she wouldn’t argue; Carolyn, on the other hand, enjoyed an argument. In the first place, he didn’t know what he would do if Candy left him. Realistically, she needed a husband when she was going to bear a child. She would need one much less as time went on. Being a divorced woman with a child was far less of an embarrassment than being a never-married woman with a child was. So, he figured, his best chance was to be the person she needed when she needed the title less.

And Candy had the circle from UMW to give her advice. They were the new mothers in the church. They all knew what the latest advice was. He wasn’t terribly sure that the up-to-date advice of 1980 was better than the advice of 1950 had been. He thought he had turned out all right. On the other hand, he knew -- as a lawyer -- what messes people made for themselves when they ignored legal advice; he figured that ignoring other expert advice was likely to have disastrous consequences.

Candy also talked with Dr. Gabel. He advised her to cut down on alcohol. Eric could see the sense of that, and he stopped drinking at home to keep her company. He was now taking the CTA to work and leaving the car for Candy. That should have made him perfectly comfortable about stopping for a drink with his colleagues after work. Considering that his job was prosecuting traffic offenses which would have made a DUI a total embarrassment, he had been careful about drinking and driving. He found, though, that he tended to hurry home to Candy instead of socializing in bars, or even the office.

They had decided that they would treat the baby as theirs -- his as much as hers -- and he’d be useful in raising her. They went shopping together for baby stuff. He figured that she had the eyes for choosing things, and he had the arms for carrying them. Despite that, Candy hauled things around much more than he considered safe for a pregnant woman. She kept the new apartment immaculate, and all he did was help with the dinner dishes.

One of the women in the circle gave her a bassinet. The Stewarts could have afforded to buy their own, but he was grateful. The gift was a symbol that Candy was accepted as part of the circle, and that was an acceptance that she wanted desperately. Candy had strange ideas about church people, and she was afraid that they would discover that she had been pregnant before the wedding and reject her as impure. The worst anyone would actually do -- and that only a minority -- was cackle. The pregnancy was obvious, and they’d mentioned the due date. Probably some of the old hens were cackling, but the cackles never reached him, much less Candy.

He and Candy made love once a week, even when she was far along in pregnancy. He’d asked her once if it were safe, and she had told him that rear-entry was better for her. Rear-entry was delightful for him, although it must have seemed impersonal to her. For some reason, he felt her orgasms when they used rear-entry, though he hadn’t before, and that increased his enjoyment.

He kissed and stroked her before they got into position. As her pregnancy advanced, taking the quarter turn and moving back towards him took longer each week. He kept stroking her and arousing her until she said that she was ready. One week, he thought that Candy looked as aroused as he had seen her. He started to remove his hand to allow her to turn, but she pulled his hand back between her legs. He kept stroking and she spread her legs more and held his hand to her groin.

Her muscles felt stiff under his arm. She gasped and pulled his hand harder against her mound. Her legs straightened more than he would have thought possible, and her belly rose off the mattress. A moment later, she relaxed. She had clearly had an orgasm, and he didn’t know what to do.

The sight had aroused him more than anything previous in their marriage. He needed to have her now, but he could see that she didn’t need him at all. Suddenly, Candy took his hand again and moved it from her groin. He was about to apologize for leaving it there when she settled it on her belly. The baby was kicking again, and he could feel it. Lying like this, so close and bare, he could actually see a little motion when he raised the sheet on the back of his hand. Between feeling so much and seeing so little, he preferred feeling. He returned his hand to Candy’s belly until the kicking stopped.

Soon after, Candy turned over. The rotation moved her from under his hand, and he pulled the hand back in case it had bothered her. She didn’t seem to be bothered, though. She was moving back towards him in obvious preparation for having sex. He couldn’t believe that she wanted that, but his desire was too raw to raise the question. He slipped inside her, and she was so moist, so tight, so hot. As soon as he was inside, she grabbed his hand in hers and brought it back between her legs. She couldn’t want more stroking!

“Oh, Darling,” he said. He began stroking her again, and she kept her hand against the back of his. When her hips began to move, he allowed his own to thrust him in and withdraw. Her warmth contracted around his cock. He thrust harder into her. Then he erupted into those contractions. The contractions lasted longer than the eruptions did, and the last ones squeezed him out. He lay behind her and gasped into the back of her neck.

He fell asleep like that, and he should have apologized -- apologized for not giving her more room, apologized for falling asleep so suddenly, apologized for taking her when she was in the delicate condition and had already had her orgasm. By the time he remembered in the morning, though, she seemed to have forgotten. She fixed him breakfast and kissed him goodbye at the door. Even without the apology, she seemed to have forgiven him, because the kiss was hotter than her usual morning kiss.