Chapter 10

She looked at the home pregnancy indicator and again sighed in disappoinment.

They had been trying for some time now but so far no results. As the weeks had turned into months she had suggested she and Randy have physical exams to determine if...

"Now Marsha," he had said, much as a father would address a persistent child, "there's nothing wrong with either of us. We just have to keep trying. Maybe we're trying too hard. Let's just relax and take it easy -- don't push it."

And so it had continued. Night after night she had continued the charade of little girl or even daughter as her new nearly featureless body and tight nest brought delight to her husband who continued to fill her with semen without result.

Marsha was shopping at the supermarket one afternoon when she noticed a man following her, at a discrete distance, up and down the aisles. He seemed familiar but she could not place him especially since she caught only fleeting glimpses of him as he ducked behind displays or turned away when she looked.

Now really frightened, yet uneasy, she was looking back to try to spot him when her shopping cart ran into another one as she turned the corner from one aisle to another. She turned back to find herself face to face with her mystery man.

Suddenly recognition swept over her. It was Ben Alverson, the man they had encountered at the restaurant who used to work with Randy.

"Well, hello, Marsha," he smiled.

"Hello, Mr. Alverson. How are you?"

"Make it Ben, please. I'm fine. I'm just wondering how you are?" he said, looking around to make sure they weren't being overheard.

"Why, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Pregnant yet?" he asked.

She gasped in astonishment. "That's none of your bus..."

"Now don't get upset. You see I'm in a position to know a little about that. For instance I know you're his wife, not his daughter."

"What are you talking about?"

"Let's go somewhere we can..."

"I have no intention of goi..."

"I'm talking about having a drink. Then we can talk privately."

"What makes you think I have anything to talk with you about?"

"You will. Let me ask you something. You and Randy been trying to have a baby?"

"I told you that's none of your..."

"Have you?" he insisted.

"So what if we have?"

"You don't look pregnant to me."

"So? We just have to give it a little more ti..."

"Give it all the time you want. You aren't going to have a baby -- Not with Randy."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's have that drink."

"I have no intention of..."

"Let me guess. By now you've suggested having a checkup, but he's always found some excuse not to. Am I right?" Marsha was uncomfortable with the man's questions, yet found him to know a great deal about their relationship. "Now, how about that drink?"

They sat in a secluded booth at a small bar not far from the mall where Marsha had been grocery shopping. He ordered a scotch, but she refused anything to drink.

"Now how is it you seem to know so much about Randy and me?" she demanded in a low, discrete but affirmative voice.

"Because unless I miss my bet, this is a rerun of what happened before."

"Before?"

"With his first wife. I'm going to tell you something which you aren't going to believe. That's why I brought this," he said, taking a folded sheet of paper from his jacket pocket and sliding it across the table to her.

As Marsha unfolded it and began to read, he continued. "That's a medical report his first wife gave me."

"Why would she... ?"

"Let's just say she and I were on very good terms. He had agreed to have a baby if she would -- indulge him."

"What do you mean, indulge?"

"It seems your husband likes his women young -- very young!"

Marsha gasped audibly.

"Uh, huh. I thought so," continued Alverson. "Let's see if it goes something like this. Randy has agreed to try to have a baby if you agree to dress and act like a young girl -- a very young girl."

Now Marsha's mouth dropped open.

"But how... ?"

"Because he ran the same scam on his first wife. She bought into his little agreement for over a year and a half before she began to get suspicious. She insisted on a physical for them both and after a lot of excuses, he agreed. He wouldn't go with her but agreed to get tested alone. He showed her a medical report stating that he was healthy and his sperm count was normal. She was still suspicious so one day she approached me and asked if I could find out what was going on. Randy and I knew each other, but we weren't really that close. Besides, Sheila was a good looking lady. Still is. Anyway, I had a friend at the clinic where he had been tested so it wasn't hard to get the real results of his test."

"Which was?"

"He's not sterile. At least not exactly, but his sperm count is so low that he might as well be. The odds were astronomically against his being able to get her, or you pregnant."

Marsha scanned the medical report which confirmed what Alverson had just told her.

"But he has a son, Trent!"

Alverson just smiled.

"Trent's not his?" she gasped.

The man nodded with a smile.

"But whose... ?"

Again there was a knowing smile on Alverson's face.

"You? You're Trent's father?"

"Not exactly something I'd like to appear on the front page of the newspaper, but yeah, when Sheila found out about Randy's problem, she and I started seeing each other. One thing led to another and..."

"But..."

"Oh, both of us were married and at least I didn't want a divorce. I wasn't about to pass up that opportunity however, especially when Sheila wanted a kid so badly."

"And Randy doesn't know?"

"Nope and let's just keep it that way. He figured that lightning had struck and despite the odds he had gotten her pregnant. He thinks Trent is his and who am I to rain on his parade. He got Sheila off his back about having a kid, she got the baby she wanted and I got the time of my life. Everybody was happy."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I hate to see someone as nice as you get duped like Sheila did for so long. Besides, if you really want a baby, I'm available," he said with a lecherous leer as his eyes roved over her body. "I didn't buy that daughter thing back in the restaurant for a moment. True, your body may look like that of a young girl, but your face is definitely that of a woman. I knew he couldn't have actually had a daughter of his own so I checked up and, lo and behold, it's Marsha Kahn, wife, not daughter of Randy Kahn. So, Baby, if you want a kid, I got all the sperm you need."

Marsha's face held disgust as she hurriedly arose from the table.

"If you think for one moment that I'd..."

"Word has it you and Trent went at it pretty hot and heavy when he was here."

"How could you know... ?"

"Word gets around. The way I figure it, if you can do the kid, you can the father as well."

"Not in a thousand years," she hissed and turned and walked out on her heel.

Marsha now detested Ben Alverson and certainly would never even consider going to bed with him, but the man, with all his crudity, had succeeded in one respect. Days later as she sat nursing a cup of coffee and trying to watch some TV to occupy her until bedtime, her mind wandered to the medical report Alverson had shown her. His story was preposterous, yet the report had looked genuine and it was certainly true she and Randy had had no luck in getting her pregnant. Her idle wonder became curiosity which eventually became a source of worry.

She began to consider how she might verify or dispel the story Alverson had told her. If he had impregnated Sheila, Randy's ex-wife would certainly never admit it, not to the current wife who might spill the beans to Randy.

Suddenly, it came to her. She wondered if Trent knew. If he didn't, the news might devastate him. She would have to be careful, but perhaps...

"Trent? It's Marsha."

That same self confident voice. "Well, hello there good looking. Calling to ask me out on a date?"

"In a way. I need to ask you some things."

"About Dad?"

"Uh huh."

"Sure. Hey I've got my driver's license now. What say I drive over there and we have dinner together."

"I..." she hesitated. She didn't really want to become romantically entangled with Trent again, but she knew he would bargain her into it anyway. "Uh, okay, dinner. Just dinner."

"Sure, sure," she heard the mirth in his voice.

"I mean it, Trent. Just dinner."

"Whatever you say. Tomorrow night okay?"

"Yes, tomorrow night is fine."

"I assume you want me to wait until Dad leaves."

"Uh, yes. I..."

"Say no more. I get the picture." Again there was flirtatiousness in his voice.

"No, it's just that..."

"It's okay, Marsha. A girl gets horny too."

"No, I'm not calling about..."

"Sure you are. I'll pick you up about nine-thirty."

And with that the receiver went dead.

Marsha spent the rest of the night worrying. She hadn't called Trent to have sex, but now the boy thought she had. Should she call him back and simply cancel or try to explain tomorrow night that she simply wanted information and nothing more? She seriously considered dropping the entire matter and disregarding Alverson's story altogether, but a nagging voice in the back of her mind keep telling her she had to know. So, in the end, exhausted, she fell asleep on the sofa and didn't even awaken when Randy got in from work.

She spent the day trying to figure a way to bring up the indelicate subject for she truly did not want to hurt Trent if he didn't yet know who his true father was. But sooner than she would have liked, it was time for Randy to leave for work. She kissed him goodbye, then hurried to prepare. She had bathed earlier in the day but it seemed to take forever to choose an outfit. She knew she should dress as conservatively as possible to assist, along with her new girls body, in getting the boy's mind off sex. Yet, in the end, she choose a sultry black mini which, even though she had had to take it in in strategic spots, was one Trent had always liked and which showed off both her breasts, small though they now were, and her legs and hips. She just had time to finish brushing her hair when there was a knock at the door.