Vickie was royally pissed!

Her husband Carl was pissed, too. But he was pissed royally drunk on his ass upstairs, unconscious on the bed. Vickie was mad as a cat in the shower.

Dang blast it, and all the other blasts her granddad said that got her giggling; but she and Carl had agreed! They wanted a kid; they wanted it now and they wanted it their own flesh and blood. The son of a bitch she married wouldn't even go get his virility checked!

"I'm fine, skookums," was all he said. And where the heck had he come up with skookums? It was more archaic than those things granddad used! Anyway, her husband just patted her on the head, literally, before explaining sometimes getting PG took longer than other times.

Damn it to hell anyway, his cousin Gertrude claimed all she'd done was hold Bruce's hand and he'd knocked her up!

Nine months later they had twins! '

Not that Vickie wanted twins particularly, but she wanted a baby!

After the fight this afternoon when Carl was already half way to getting sloshed, Vickie put down a few too. She had promised herself she was going to stop the weekend drinking; and she'd done it for the past couple months. But today was just too much.

She loved Carl; all long, lean, blonde, funny and masculine Carl. But she wanted a baby! Vickie yearned to get pregnant and big. She longed to toss her cookies in the morning, have backaches and need to piddle 24/7. Well, she wasn't looking forward to all that, but she wanted a baby. If that's what it took, so be it! She wanted it! And it was time, damn it to hell! She was thirty-two and healthy. She wasn't getting any younger, dammit!

Tiny, petite Vickie was lying on one of the redwood chaise lounges beside their backyard pool. She had tippled but was far from drunk. She and Carl had fallen into a bad habit over the six years they were married. They drank, and drank heavily on weekends. Vickie had recognized the problem they were giving themselves and she had been cutting down, a lot, but Carl didn't see a problem.

The big doofus seemed unable to break the habit, just saying he could quit whenever he wanted. The drinking was worrying Vickie now, but she knew enough not to nag him. She had watched and listened to her mother for too many years not to understand that all the nagging did was drive the man away. Her mother had driven enough of them away, that was for sure.

He was all right during the week, but Friday afternoon until Sunday afternoon he was "in his cups." Vickie couldn't point fingers though. She'd been doing the same until they agreed to make a baby. Then she cut down the drinking, usually only having a cooler or two on hot days. When she got pregnant she would be on the wagon, and happy for it.

Oh, how she wanted to be a mommy.

God knows they had tried! It was just casual the last two years. She'd gone off birth control. But it didn't work. Then a couple months ago they agreed they had practiced enough, it was time to get serious.

Vickie had been to the "baby-making" doctor who told her everything looked fine. According to Dr. Lois she was a gun; loaded, aimed and cocked. All she needed was someone to pull the trigger and her womb would go off. Dr. Lois said sometimes things DID just take a little time, but Dr. Lois also wanted to check Carl and make sure HIS gun was cocked... so to speak. The good doctor wondered if his heavy drinking hadn't done something to his balls. Maybe soaking them in Jim Beam and Gilbey's Gin had pickled them or something.

And the son of a bitch wouldn't go!

Vickie had been lying there on the lounge in the hot sun for over an hour, fuming. It had been enough time for her to sip down two gin and tonics. They were more than she'd been drinking in an entire weekend lately! The gin bottle and tonic were both in the ice bucket sitting alongside the lounge, along with melted ice. Carl, the son of a bitch, had staggered off to their room half an hour ago. His usual routine, he'd sleep until dinnertime a couple hours from now. Then he'd get up, eat, then drink until bedtime.

God but she loved the son of a bitch! But he wouldn't get checked! And he didn't seem to be able to stop the weekend drinking. Hell! He'd never tried.

What in HELL was she going to do? Without kids her life would be a barren desert. The most important thing to her was being a mother, raising a family! Carl had been adamant. He wanted no children that didn't come from his wife's womb. Adoption wasn't something he would even discuss. She was willing to try artificial insemination even though the odds of it being successful were very low. She was willing even if it risked her life. Women died in childbirth every day, it was something she risked giving birth. And if his sperm count was low the doctor suggested there were things they could do that would raise it. But Carl wouldn't think about any thing but natural childbirth for them.

She was coming to see only two possibilities. The first was accepting that she would never have a child. If she chose that one her future stretched out bleakly before her. She saw herself becoming bitter and cold. The marriage would be a shambles with no joy. Life for both of them would become desolate, a desert with no reason to live.

Her second choice was to leave Carl. Leave the man she loved as much as life itself. Leave and find, if she could, another man to sire her children. That was even more unpalatable than the first choice.

"Oh my God," she prayed. "what am I to do?"

It was then that she heard someone opening the creaky gate into the backyard. She didn't want company so she lay quietly, peeking through her lashes to see who was coming. Vickie was willing to bet it was their buddy Rich. He was the only one who just walked into the backyard like he owned the place. Sometimes it seemed that way to Vickie, too. He was such a gem, long skinny and blonde like Carl, and funny as the dickens.

He had become so close to them they never planned anything any more without calling him first. Then the three of them had fun together.

It had surprised her when Carl invited him over a couple years ago. She usually was pretty reserved around unmarried men, but Rich was just different. And he had been Carl's "best buddy" since grade school. Carl had been so tickled when Rich moved back to town!

She never understood why the man hadn't married. He wasn't gay, he liked women. Lord knew women liked him. There seemed to be no end to the number of Vickie's friends that had set out to snare him. But somehow nobody seemed able to get past his reserve. Not that they weren't able to get him into bed. She'd had enough morning after postmortems to know he really liked women!

Rich was a software engineer with his own company and worked out of his home. He kept some of the weirdest hours, too. When his brain got "locked up" as he called it, he'd go for a walk. Then when his mind cleared he'd head home and work until he had that problem solved. Some days he worked all night long, not even breaking for a cup of coffee. Sometimes he walked aimlessly for hours, but most of the time his walks ended here with her and Carl. When he showed up Rich always just walked into their backyard. If no one was outside he'd walk into the house, yelling he was there. Then they would all have a grand time.

Vickie wasn't sure why she was OK with the casual way he made himself at home. Somehow though, it just felt right. She did know she wouldn't change it for the world. If she hadn't been as deeply in love with Carl as she was, she would have been setting her sights on Rich.

But Carl was all the man she needed.

If the son of a bitch would just get her pregnant!

Anyway she was pouting and depressed. She just couldn't face even Rich so she just played opossum. Let him think she was sleeping and he would leave.

Rich came through the gate, announcing to the world he was there before he saw her lying by the pool. He was loud enough to scare the birds quiet that had been serenading her from the many trees in her back yard.

It was all Vickie could do to keep from giggling when she heard Rich's quick gasp for air. She was wearing her new Ivory colored bikini, with her dark tan the little patches of cloth looked like her tan line. From where Rich was standing she knew she appeared nude.

Privately she thought the designer who made it had only used a very small handkerchief and a ball of string. She thought he'd cut the hankie into three parts, two patches for the top and one long one for the bottom. Then he threw away the other half of the hankie. After tying the top two pieces together with the string, the designer fixed strings on what was to be the bottom. It had to be a man that designed it. Still she liked to sun in it, and had to agree Carl was rather "fond" of it.

The bottom came up between her legs, then the strings were gathered into a bow on each hip. The top halves were connected by a longish string that went around her back, then two strings from each "nipple cup" were tied with another bow between her breasts. The last little bit of string looped around her neck. It took a certain kind of woman to wear it. Not only did she have to have guts of steel, but she couldn't have much boob. There was absolutely NO support. Vickie guessed that if a tit bounced even a little the tiny patch supposed to cover it would be tossed off. Vickie was lucky in a way, because what she had were nipples. Almost no mammary, but big, big nipples! And man did those suckers poke out when she got aroused!

Heck, Vickie loved the suit, but wouldn't be caught dead in it outside her backyard and its high privacy fence. If she had known Rich was coming she wouldn't be wearing it now.

But it was too late to do anything about that now, he was here and she didn't want company. If she moved a muscle Rich would know she was awake. She wouldn't be able to find it in her to just send him away.

Still, all Vickie wanted to do was pout and brood about how unfair Carl was being.

Her eyes were closed tight now, but she heard Rich coming over to check on her so she kept her eyes closed, not letting him know she was awake.

She felt as much as heard him standing next to the chaise lounge. It was crazy but she would swear she could feel his eyes on her. First she had this burning sensation traveling back and forth over her chest, then it swept down to her groin and kind of stayed there. Man, did THAT feel funny. After a moment or so it slowly worked its way down her legs, pausing every once in a while for a quick swoop back up to either her chest or groin.

Then it began moving up her body again. Vickie almost moaned. As she felt the eyes moving up, her body got hot as it moved. When it paused at her hips it was almost more than she could do not to wiggle them. Her center felt like it had come afire, liquid fire. She worried that she had soaked the bottom of her bikini before she felt the warmth again move up to her chest. But the warmth in her belly, her center, her liquid center; didn't disappear.

When it stopped at her chest Vickie almost shook her tits at him: Except her nipples didn't shake, never had. Especially when they were poking out so much. She had felt them growing when Rich's had eyes stopped for so long on her crotch.

When the warmth moved up to her lips she couldn't stop them from parting, just a little. But she was able to keep the tip of her tongue from poking out to moisten her suddenly dry lips.

It was almost her undoing when she felt Rich's open hand laid lightly on her tummy. His hand was cool, exciting in the warm sun. After a moment he took his hand away. "Damn it to hell anyway," she thought.

She almost bolted upright when she felt the chaise move. Still she managed to remain still.

In a moment she felt the coolness of the shade under the big maple tree. Rich, the big darling, had moved her out of the sun. Guess he was afraid she was going to burn. He may have been right!

Over her thunderous heartbeat she barely heard his sneakers as he walked away. Listening carefully Vickie heard the patio door open. Then Rich was inside calling, "Carl? Carl, you there?"

When she heard the patio door slide shut, Vickie opened her eyes making sure she was alone. Once she knew she was sure her whole body quivered as the tension in her body let go. Not understanding why, she pulled the ends of the string tied between her breasts, untying the neat bow that had been holding the two cups closed. Vickie gave a little sigh, feeling the loss of the bra's constriction, slight as it was. She left the small cups lying on her nipples. Next she untied the strings on her hip holding the "almost" loin cloth covering her sex. It still covered her as she lay there, as did the "almost a bra", but it eased the restlessness in her body.

That got her wondering just how and why her body was feeling so strange.

Damned horny was what she was feeling! Was that because her platonic best friend had softly touched her belly?

Uhm, his touch was so soft.

"Stop that!" she shouted in her mind. "Get a life, girl!" Still, it had been so soft and gentle. It had felt good; comforting, but sensual. As if that made sense.

Closing her eyes, Vickie enjoyed the suns warmth. After a few minutes she heard the patio door again slide open. She thought, "Rich went up to check on Carl, found him passed out on the bed drunk, then I bet he got a beer out of the refrigerator."

Sure enough, the door slid shut she heard him walking softly back toward her. After a couple steps she heard the pop of the beer can opening.

She never understand why but she continued lying there, eyes closed, playing she was asleep. Soon she felt the warmth again as his eyes moved over her again.

She wondered how this heat was occurring, but it was.

The wondering turned to pleasure and she just enjoyed it.

When Rich's gentle hands began slowly, carefully lifting the bra cups aside it was all she could do not to give herself away. With her nipples now uncovered to the slow, warm breeze they popped up on her chest again. She heard his sharp intake of breath as he watched them swell.

It was all Vickie could do to just lie there. But when she felt Rich's warm breath on her breasts, followed almost immediately by his tongue, it took superhuman effort to remain still.

She couldn't help a slow squirm, but managed to keep her eyes closed and held the her chest's waggle to a minimum. Rich paused for a moment and she could feel him studying her face. Then he relaxed where he crouched above her and his tongue returned to her breast.

It felt so good... She could feel the tingles race down to curl her toes. There was nothing she could do to keep from curling, but that was okay. Rich wasn't looking at her toes. After a moment the wildfire sensations... they didn't ease but were no longer overpowering her. Until she felt his warm, yielding lips close on a nipple, then begin delicately suckling her. Nothing could stop her involuntary gasp. But she gave no other indication she was aware what he was doing to her.

It was hardest to keep from screaming with pleasure, but again her toes curled. She had just managed to force them open, too.

For a few minutes Rich alternated from one breast to the other. She knew her breathing sped up, but there was nothing she could do about that except die.

It felt too good to die.

She heard Rich's breath. He was breathing faster and heavier than she.

She almost begged him not to go when he released her nipple and she heard him stand up. She had been so close to completion! Just from suckling on her! Why? How could he stop?

But she was rewarded for continuing her deception when Rich's tender touch lifted the bottom of her bikini off her sex and let it drop between her slightly opened legs.

How did her legs get opened? She knew when Rich came into the yard that her legs were together. She'd actually had her ankles crossed!

No matter, they were open now. Soon they moved further apart, all by themselves. Rich looked at her for a moment, then lovingly and gently pulled her left ankle up and moved it over until it rested on the ground beneath the lounge.

Lovingly? Where the hell did that come from? She knew how it felt, it felt loving, but how did that thought get into her mind. While she was puzzling this in her head Rich pulled the right leg in the other direction. She was now lying on her back, arms at her sides, her legs split wide open. Her center, her very wet center, was now open to her friends gaze.

And gaze he did. For what seemed hours to the woman lying, her eyes tight shut, striving not to writhe on the chaise lounge. When Rich climbed onto the lounge to kneel between her widely splayed legs Vickie's body tensed. But she kept her eyes scrunched tight, tried to understand why she was still just lying there, and somehow managed to almost control her breathing.

When the soft, wet tip of the man's tongue touched the bottom of her slit, then slowly traveled up the moan was impossible to contain. Still, Vickie pretended sleep. Even as that tongue circled her bud, then reversed its course, traveling back down her slit she knew, she felt, her sex was opened wide. But somehow she didn't give away her awareness of what he was doing to her.

For a time Rich's tongue played with her center. For that time Vickie's breathing became faster and deeper. The fire that had ignited inside her woman's body flamed and grew to uncontrollable proportions. Then, suddenly the wildfire exploded. Vickie made a noise, her body spasmed and she felt herself flood the mouth now easily and gently covering her center.

Vickie refused to admit she was aware of what he had just done. Rich stared at her face, terrified at being caught but unable to move away. When his friend continued to sleep he decided she had drunk more than he thought. His conscience was digging at him, but he was a man who dated seldom. No matter how hard he beat himself up he couldn't bring himself to walk away from this lovely woman spread out before him.

Oh, God! If she woke up she would never allow him near her again! But still he couldn't bring himself to leave before disaster struck.

Truthfully he was afraid of women. He knew some women liked him, but he couldn't let himself loosen up enough to allow them inside his guard. It seemed he was often able to make love to a woman, but even then he didn't feel comfortable. He was lonely, and only with this adorable woman lying naked before him had he been able to be a friend.

For an immeasurable length of time he knelt between her knees, staring at her wide-open beauty. Then he could no longer contain himself.

Rich knew if she woke and found him doing this she would be correct if she said he was raping her. Still, he couldn't bring himself to stop. At the same time he grieved for throwing away the best true friendship he had ever had; and still was so wildly out of control his body drove him on, his mind clouded with desire.

With shaking fingers he undid his trousers, pushing them down along with his underwear. Then leaning forward he held his weight up off her with his arms. Moving forward slowly until he felt the tip of his rock hard erection touching her swamp-wet sex, there he paused. For a time he enjoyed the sensuousness of her heat and wet against his sex. He felt her labia twitch, seemingly sucking at his maleness, trying to pull it into her femininity. Then he slowly pressed forward. The feel of his glans being enveloped by the welcoming sheath was almost more than he could stand.

Moving inside her slowly, Rich gloried in her tunnel's nibbling acceptance. It's tightness slowly drew in his length; tight, wet, hot almost to the point of pain it consumed him. As he slowly entered he felt spasms running inside her. Looking down at the lovely creature spread open beneath him the pleasurable sensations swept in visible waves through her body. He watched her closed face as passion moved inside her. Yet still she seemed unconscious of the glory they were experiencing together.

At last reaching the end of her tunnel he felt the lips of her sex clamp firmly around the base of his root, sealing him inside. He gently but so firmly pushed again, giving her sensations deep within while at the same time he gave her bud, above her entrance even extraordinary stimuli.

Slowly, easily, almost painstakingly, he withdrew giving her unawake body maximum pleasure. Yet all the time he prayed not to awaken her. The third entry proved too much for him. It was too much for Vickie, also. His cannon fired shot after shot deep within her, coating her womb with his eager, hungry sperm. At the same instant the wonderful woman's body lying beneath him convulsed.

It seemed forever before he had totally emptied himself inside her, before wondrous Vickie locked beneath, then collapsed slack beneath him. Until the ecstasy subsided neither the man nor the woman knew anything but the glory that enveloped within.

Somehow, without her conscious knowledge of effort, Vickie's eyes remained closed and though her body erupted to Rich she still seemed to sleep. When Rich was able to see again his anxious look showed him the face of a woman curiously relaxed, showing pleasure. It was also the face of a woman asleep.

Cursing himself for raping his best friend, while at the same time fully sated with the loving they had shared Rich stood, pulled up his clothes and scurried out. Torn with guilt, he knew he would never forgive himself. He feared he would never be allowed to even speak to this woman again.

With shaking fingers he straightened the loin cloth, tying the sides together again. Then he gently picked up the ridiculous little patches of cloth that served as a bra and laid them over her nipples. "There," he thought, "she's just as I found her."

If she found out what he had done... he didn't know how he would face it. And how could she help but discovering?

He knew he loved her. Not as a life mate, but as a dear friend. There was certainly no jealousy thinking of Carl being her husband. Rich could never allow himself to let go enough to be a complete partner with a woman. He couldn't do it with anyone, which was the reason he was an independent contractor in his software development. The relationship he had enjoyed with Vickie was exactly what he needed.

He had just destroyed it.

Vickie lay there, unbelieving of what she had just allowed, what she had encouraged and gloried in. How could she have done that? Carl must never know! Not once had she even considered being unfaithful to her husband. Now that it had happened she didn't understand how it had happened. She did know she had never before enjoyed such a complete coupling, total melding of souls, even with the husband she so adored.

How could she ever look Rich in the face again?

Deep in concentrated thought Rich furiously pounded the keyboard of his computer, the string of commands unrolling out of his mind as he worked. It was four weeks since he had trapped Vickie. Four weeks since he had caught her drunk and viciously taken advantage of her. He hadn't talked to or seen either Vickie or Carl since that horrid day.

He stayed home, immersing himself in his work, fighting to forgive himself. At the same time he knew that was something he would never be able to do.

He had just completed a step and reached for the cola constantly on his desk when the doorbell rang. He tried ignoring it. Anyone who knew him enough to visit, knew never to interrupt him between 10 AM and 5 PM on a weekday. Or any other day for that matter, he kept no regular days.

But the thing rang again and again and again.

Cursing he surged to his feet, threw himself out of his office and raced to the door. He was going to kill whoever was there! No one could interrupt him while he was working!

Furiously flinging open the door he found himself staring at the tiny figure of Vickie, her angel face turned up at him.

Rich shriveled inside as he looked at her. He couldn't slam the door in her face, he couldn't yell at her. He wasn't sure he could say anything to her at all! Oh God! What she must think of him?

Without a word the petite woman ducked under the arm he had thrown against the door jamb to hold himself upright. She slipped into Rich's condominium, just heading out of the slate floored entry toward the Great Room. She and Carl had been here before and she was always overpowered by the luscious beauty he had surrounding him. He might be a near hermit, but his razor sharp mind had given him an annual income approaching a high six figures. Since he never dated, seldom went out, the only thing he spent his income on was his living quarters. She had teased him that while ordinary people had "quarters" Rich had "wholes."

His head hanging Rich followed her into his Great Room. Anything she asked was hers. He had raped her, his dearest friend, Carl's wife. He could only imagine what she was going to say. He could not conceive what he could do to assuage her fury.

For long minutes they stared at one another. Finally Rich broke out of his silence, "Can I get you anything, Vickie? Coffee, tea, a drink?"

"Yeah, can I have a cola?" she asked quietly.

"You want something in that?" Rich asked.

"No, I've pretty much given that stuff up," she answered in a firm voice.

Slamming himself mentally he slunk into the kitchen. What he had done was the reason she no longer drank. She couldn't trust anyone after what he had done to her. After pouring her cola into a glass over ice he carried it back to her, bringing one for himself.

They looked at one another again until Rich asked her if she wanted to sit down. This was going to be even worse than he had imagined.

"No thanks, I want to stand while my back doesn't hurt," she answered with a little smile. The reason made no sense to Rich, but he didn't comment.

"Uhm, guess I'd just better say it and get it over with," Vickie stated. "Rich, I'm going to be a Mama! I'm pregnant."

It took a moment to percolate through his thoughts, but when it did Rich was filled with joy for her. She and Carl had discussed their dreams with him many times. "That's wonderful news!" he chortled. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. "What does Carl have to say about that?"

"Well, I thought I should tell the father first," she answered.

His brows squinting together Rich asked, "The father? Huh!" He thought for a moment longer, "Well, why haven't you told him? Carl is going to be ecstatic!"

"I did tell him Rich! Just now! I'll tell Carl when he gets home tonight."

"I don't understand, Vickie. What do you mean?" Rich asked.

Grinning like a cat, a big hungry one, she answered, "I just told the father, that's you dummy! Carl's going to be the Daddy, but you're the father."

Rich quivered, feeling like someone had hit him in the gut. "I, uh... I guess you, uh, found out about what I did," he managed to get out, almost in a whisper.

"Well, yeah!" she answered. "I was there too, you know! It's kind of hard for a girl not to know, you know!"

All Rich could do was stare at her.

"Rich, what I did wasn't fair to you. You see, I wasn't drunk like you thought. And I was awake when you came into the backyard. I certainly can't hold it against you, I knew everything you did. I could have stopped it at anytime. In a way it was mean of me not to do so. But... Oh God! It felt so good!" She looked at Rich for a moment. "You are the father, Rich. I just came out of the Doctor's office an hour ago. Then I walked over to let you know. But we have to talk."

Rich collapsed onto the light tan leather couch, leaning forward with his head in his hands. He got out, "What's Carl going to say?"

"I hope he's going to be glad he is a Daddy," Vickie answered in a small voice. "Rich, Carl can never know he's not the father. He just can't, it would kill him. I've never done anything like that before. I do love him, you know." They sat in silence a moment before she continued, "You know we've been trying to have a baby. Well, there's nothing wrong with me that would keep me from having one. But Carl won't get tested."

"I'm guessing he is impotent. Because of his drinking his sperm count must be low. That's what the Doctor thinks, too. So this will be the only way we can have a child from our body. Do you understand? We've talked about artificial insemination, and adoption. Carl won't have a thing to do with either of them. Besides, if he doesn't have any sperm, "artificial" won't work anyway."