Chapter 17

I slept for almost twelve hours. The b-K didn’t rise from her Olympian bed, but the maid made enough noise that eventually I woke up.

Maid? When did we acquire one of those?

I splashed some water on my face, and then went to the master bedroom. Lady Katherine was awake. She was wearing a diaphanous bed robe to make herself more attractive. I felt like ripping back the sheets to see if she was wearing some sort of heels – but I restrained myself.

“Good morning, Mark. It was nice of you to let me sleep. Alone. I’m so tired these days.”

She had another six weeks before she was due. Was she ordered to bed rest? Hell, I was gone for only a little over a week. Had she been to the ObGyn in my absence?

I shook my head to clear the cobwebs. “Is something wrong with the pregnancy?” That was how I phrased things these days. ‘The pregnancy.’ I had to keep up with my Oscar-winning performance. This, after all, was supposed to be Lucas’s child incubating in there.

I went about my normal disrobing routine: depositing my clothes in the hamper, donning a robe, and going into the bathroom. I left the door open so I could hear her reply.

“No, nothing particularly wrong. I’m just tired. Oh, by the way, I’ve engaged a housekeeper for the duration. I hope you don’t mind. I can’t keep up with all the housework.”

Housework? Goddess Katherine wouldn’t touch a vacuum if her life depended on it. If a stray dog came in and took a dump in the living room, it wouldn’t get cleaned up until the cleaners came in. But she took care of things in the kitchen, I had to admit.

“I made sure to get a girl who’s good looking. She’s a colored girl ... taking courses at night. But don’t think I got her for you. She’s just here to get your libido engaged. No touching.” She laughed. “I want you to be ready for after the baby comes.”

‘Colored girl?’ Well, this was the deep south, after all. At least she didn’t say it with a Scarlet O’Hara accent. What should I call her? ‘Mammy’ would fit.

I was in the shower, by now. And was washing myself, thinking of Suzanne. I was getting hard, and I wasn’t thinking platonic thoughts.

“I was thinking of names, you know.” She raised the volume, so I’d be able to hear. “I think Lucas McAllister James sounds good. What do you think?”

I turned off the shower, and exited early, still soaped up in some places. I grabbed a towel and wiped my crotch clear of soap. Storming out of the bathroom, I marched over to the bedroom door and carefully closed it. I engaged the lock and turned on her. My still hard cock wobbled ridiculously in front of me as I looked at her.

“No fucking way, I’m going to call him Lucas. That fucker fucked a baby into you. I’m not going to have his name on the child. A permanent reminder of your so called one time sneeze. You know, the one that lasted for eight months.” The volume of my words got lower and lower.

I was still walking – naked – got on the bed and I stood over her. I spread my stride and carefully waddled over her belly-bulge, ‘til my cock was pointed at her nose. Then I dropped to my knees, pinning her shoulders against the pillows she had propped behind her.

“Okay. Okay. We don’t have to name him Lucas. Don’t get overwrought.” Her eyes were locked on the cock bouncing just inches from her face.

I grabbed her carefully coiffed hair and pulled her face forward, until my cock touched her lips.

“I don’t want to hear that name again. I don’t want to think about him again.” I lowered my voice to a harsh whisper. “Now SUCK, BITCH! And don’t think about using your teeth, or I’ll kill you and the fucking baby you’re carrying.”

“You WOULDN’T!” she mumbled, lips against the head of my prick.

I slapped her cheeks. First left then right. “Don’t bet on it. 5...” I hit her on the left side of her face, knocking her mouth off me. “4...” And then the right.

“ALL RIGHT! Just stop!” She turned to take me into her mouth.

I pushed in, pulling her face toward me. “I don’t feel your tongue, bitch.”

I flashed back to the face-fuck I got from uh-Crystal. I felt the tongue of the former goddess, stroking along the underside of my shaft. It felt good. I thought of the first few months we fucked, back in college. My first blow job. She was very experienced – too much practice with the gang-bangs, I guess. But she’d clamped her fist around the base of my cock. So I guessed I never got deeply into her mouth.

Until that time in the office, on the couch. I got to fuck her throat. My mind drifted off as I pulled off, almost out of her mouth, and then back in. What they say is true. Even a bad blow job is very good. A semi-forced face fuck is..., in my personal estimation, great.

The next time I pulled back, I waited while she took a breath. Then I pushed back in. And kept pushing. I felt the back of her throat. I could feel her tense up. I kept pushing, and then her throat opened and I pushed again. Her arms beat on my sides, but I ignored that.