Chapter 10

"Don't cry Mamma," moaned Dub. He looked at Angela. "Why's she crying?" He looked like he might start crying himself any second.

His mother reached for his hand and subsided to a sniffling kind of hiccupping cough. When she got herself under control she said "I'm not sad, Dub." Her head swiveled, taking in the splendor of the place Dub and Angela were offering her little family to live in. "I could never have dreamed of something this fancy."

The squeals of the twins could be heard coming from various parts of the house as they explored together. All of them were overwhelmed, even though there was no furniture yet, and they couldn't actually move in for most of another month. The approval for the loan had gone through in record time, but then the bureaucracy of policies, inspections and paperwork put on the brakes. The biggest hurdle was that the sale couldn't be finalized until they were legally married. The bank wasn't willing to make the loan to only one of them, even if she was one of the town's two doctors. On the other hand, the marriage license was good enough to keep the process going.

It was for that reason, and the fact that she had few people to share her joy with, that Angela wanted to get married right away. The only real reason they couldn't just get married in front of the Justice of the Peace was because Angela hadn't told her parents yet.

An only child, Angela had grown up in that strange world of overindulgence by parents who were very busy with jobs and various projects. As such, her primary 'friends' during her childhood were stuffed animals. She had friends at school, of course, but it never seemed to work out to have play dates. She was content to read and watch movies or educational videos her parents showered on her. It was, in fact, a documentary about the history of military medics and combat surgery that sparked her dream of being a doctor and helping people. The fact was, though, that she wasn't all that close with her parents. She loved them, of course, and she knew they loved her. It was just a somewhat sterile kind of love, or perhaps an obligatory one. She'd only been home half a dozen times since she left for college.

They had paid for her first four years, but that was all. It wasn't that they didn't support her desire to enter medicine. They applauded it. But they believed in paying your own way, pulling yourself up by your bootstraps, taking responsibility for your future, and a half dozen other similar platitudes.

It was these parents she finally called on the phone. She felt guilty, because she was, at the first ring of her parents' phone, entering her second trimester.

She got the answering machine. Over the next week she got the answering machine the next twelve times she called.

Finally, she gave up. Molly had the preacher on standby. The organist only wanted ten dollars. The twins were her bridesmaids and Bob gave her away. She did buy a new dress for the event, a slinky cocktail dress in white. Dub, resplendent in a rented tux, kept complaining that he didn't know how to act until his mother snapped at him and said "Act like you're gettin' hitched, boy!"

The congregation was composed of only six people. On one side sat Bob, who had invited Shawna Willoughby. Holly and Danny Cranston sat with them. On the other side was Molly who, when she saw the old black man who was the janitor of the church, invited him to sit with her. He dabbed at his eyes several times during the ceremony, and Molly loaned him her hanky.

From the church they went to the bank to sign the papers on the house. Once they had the keys, they went to Bob's to get Angela's things. Bed or not, they planned on sleeping in their house that night.

To be honest, both were still a little stunned by the minister's pronouncement that they were husband and wife, which may be why they weren't talking when they entered the house. Each was concentrating on his or her own thoughts of their sudden change in status. Bob didn't expect them, which may be why he left his bedroom door open. Or it could be that Shawna dragged him into said bedroom so forcefully that he just didn't have a chance to close the door.

At any rate, as the newlyweds approached Bob's bedroom door, a husky female voice suddenly wafted out of the room.

"Ohhhh Bob, you do that so well. I know I'm acting like a slut, but weddings just do that to me every time."

"You told me," came an out of breath Bob. "Why do you think I invited you?"

"You're terrible!" squealed Shawna's voice. There was a rhythmic slapping sound and her voice came again. "Ohhhh keep being terrible just like that."

The young couple, moving on autopilot, came even with the door. It was only natural to look inside. What they saw was Bob, with his pants around his ankles, while above the waist he still wore his dress shirt and tie. Shawna was bent over the back of an overstuffed arm chair, her skirts up over her back. Her legs were spread, and she was still wearing her high heels. What was obviously Bob's penis was sliding in and out of the woman's sex while he held onto her naked hips for leverage. The slapping sound was the front of his abdomen, meeting her shaking buttocks forcefully.

Angela covered her mouth to stifle her gasp. Dub, ever himself, said "Wow. I didn't know you could do it that way."

A head full of bouncy red curls turned and saw them. Shawna shrieked, but had no place to go. Her legs flailed, but Bob had her pretty much nailed to the back of the chair. Then he looked at what her horrified face was pointed at and saw them too. He handled it much better.

"I thought you'd be busy," he said laconically, still moving in his partner. "Doing this, in fact."

"I just came to get my things," gasped Angela.

"Don't mind us," he said, and simply turned back around to start pounding Shawna again.

"Bob!" she shrieked. "They saw us, Bob!"

"I know," he said.

"Stop, Bob!" she moaned. "This is so embarrassing."

"They're gone now, and I'm about to cum.

"Don't you dare!" she yelped.

"Didn't you cum yet?" he asked sweetly.

"You know good and well what I'm talking about," she moaned. "You could get me pregnant."

"Like Angela," he said dreamily.

"That's not fair," she moaned. "You know how excited I was that she was already soiled."

"I'm about to soil you, Darling," he said, his voice tight.

"Noooooooo," she whined, kicking her feet in the air again. "Don't you dare, Bob Kimble."

"Ohhhhhhh Shawna," he groaned. "It feels so good to do this again."

"Bastard," she moaned, but she went quiet. "You owe me."

"What's that?" he asked.

"You said I could stay the night when Angela moved out."

"That would be tonight, then."

"You're going to have to propose in the morning," she said, her voice muffled by all the cloth around it.

"I am?"

"You're never going to take it out, like you promised you would ... are you."

"I guess not," he sighed.

"Well if you're going to knock me up, at least have the decency to marry me too."

He stepped back and turned. His eyes got wide as he realized Angela and Dub were still standing there, mouths open, still watching. He saw Angela's eyes go to his groin.

"Well looky there, Angela," said Dub, sounding awed. "His tallywhacker is even bigger than mine!"

It took some doing to convince Shawna to stay. Her level of embarrassment nearly gave her a coronary when, in addition to realizing that she had been watched while a man used and abused her ... while she didn't really complain all that much about it ... when she had finally been able to stand, she did so too quickly and got dizzy, falling back onto the arm of the chair, her legs akimbo, which put her recently fucked sex on display. Dub, of course, had to comment on the fact that she had no hair down there, and wondered aloud what had happened to it.

Had she actually been emotionally able to get up, she would have run from the house. Bob had the sense to hold her, though, and Angela finally broke the spell and dragged Dub to her room. She announced they were leaving then, and would be gone in just a few minutes. She had already packed and was ready to go. Dub carried a suitcase under each arm and one in each hand, while Angela struggled under a double armload of hanging clothes, as they went back past the still open door. Shawna was merely sniffling at that point, and her clothing was reassembled. Bob, having spent the whole time pleading with her not to leave, hadn't been able to get dressed.

"I'm so sorry," said Angela, stopping in the door. "We were just surprised, that's all."

"YOU were surprised," muttered Shawna.

"No harm done," said Bob.

"I'm kinda glad," said Dub, who had come back and leaned so he could see in. "Now I want to try it like that."

"Dub!" moaned Angela.

"But we don't have a chair yet," he said, sounding disappointed.

Bob laughed. "When you do, let me know, and Shawna and I will come over to watch."

"We will not!" she said in a huff. Then she realized he was joking and wilted back into his arms.

"Okay then," said Angela. "Bob, thanks so much. I didn't plan on just running out on you like this, but we should go."

Bob just grinned and waved.

As Dub had pointed out, they didn't have a chair. But they did have a mattress. Deciding to be conservative, they decided to spend what it would cost for a new bedroom suite, but do so at the Goodwill store in Chambley, thirty miles away. They spent enough, and bought so much, that the store agreed to deliver it. That wouldn't happen for a few days, though. They had only bought three items brand new. One was the mattress that was on the floor of their bedroom. They'd gotten it home tied to the top of the car. The other two were the pillows Angela was currently crawling across the mattress to get. She was naked, as was her husband, who was standing, enjoying looking at her.

As she reached for the nearest pillow she felt her hips being gripped by two strong hands.

"I got an idea," he said. She yelped as she was lifted like she weighed nothing, and then deposited onto the bed.

"Let me get the pillows, you goof," she said.

"We ain't got a chair, but with you on all fours like that ... maybe..."

Angela looked over her shoulder to see him holding his long, hard prick. She wasn't afraid of that prick any more. He'd had it in her enough that it rarely caused any discomfort any more, unless he was just too forceful on his initial entry. She felt him swab the tip between her dripping pussy lips. She always dripped for him when she knew she was going to get to feel him inside her.

"It's called doggy style," she said, remembering a girl in school warning a group of her friends that that was a surefire way to get pregnant.

"Bow Wow," he said, arching his back. His penis slid into her as she wiggled her butt at him.

"Oh Dub," she sighed. "It feels good this way."

He walked forward on his knees, gripped her hips again, and lunged forward.

"Easy big fella," she groaned. "You're going to poke your daughter in the head if you're not careful."

"Son," he said automatically. It was a friendly argument they had every time the baby was mentioned.

She dropped her head and looked at her now rounded belly. She loved looking at it. She watched her breasts wobble as he started moving forward and back, like he'd seen Bob doing with Shawna. She wondered what they'd be like when they filled with milk for the baby.

"It's kind of fun," he said. "Except I can't see your face."

"And you don't hit me in just the right place," she said.

"You mean your bump," he said.

"Yes," she affirmed.

"We can switch if you want," he said. "I just wanted to see what it was like."

He pulled out and she moaned her displeasure with being empty. She whirled and he leaned back while she deep throated him, fucking her throat with short inch-long strokes for half a minute. Then she pulled off and manhandled him onto his back. Standing above him, she slowly squatted, holding her pussy lips apart with two fingers. She couldn't see past her belly, but he knew that already. This was one of their favorite positions, hers because she could get him deeper than any other way while controlling how much her clit got rubbed, and him because it was in this position that his seed had gotten in her to take root. He'd told her more than a few times how lucky he was that she lost control in that tent, because if she hadn't, they wouldn't be married. Each time she assured him she'd have come to her senses sooner or later, and realized she was in love with him.

He aimed his cock for her until the head was in, and then put his hands behind his head and watched her slide down his pole, groaning all the way. She sat for a minute, just letting everything adjust. His eyes glittered as he looked at her breasts. She twisted her body sideways and then back, to make them sway and jiggle.

"When will they shoot milk?" he asked.

"Not for months," she said, beginning to move, sliding forward until his prick stopped her.

"I can't wait to taste it," he said.

"You'll starve your poor daughter," she said.

"Son," he insisted. "And no I won't. I'll let him eat first. Leftovers is fine for me."

"My breast milk is not leftovers," she said in mock irritation.

"If you keep talking about milk I'm gonna shoot," he said, his voice tight. "You're so beautiful I might shoot anyway."

"Thank you, Dub," she said, her voice husky.

She leaned forward then, to let her clit rub against his pubic bone. She wished he could suckle while she rode him like this, but he was just too tall. He often spent half an hour on her breasts before they coupled, though, so she couldn't complain. She's usually had three or four orgasms from his lips and fingers before he ever got the monster in her. That was fine with her, as long as the monster DID get in her.

"I'm gonna cum," she said softly. "Will you cum with me."

"Always," he panted.

"I love you, Dub," she said as the feeling rose.

"I love you, "Angela," he panted.

"I'm so glad you got me pregnant," she gasped, and then whined as the feeling splashed through her body. He knew she liked to have her nipples pulled while this was happening and removed his hands from behind his head to squeeze and pull at them. The secondary zings of joy that caused extended the orgasm until she was too weak to sit up straight. He caught her shoulders as she leaned, keeping her from falling onto her belly, and rolled them expertly to lie side by side. Then he humped for a few more seconds and sighed as his balls pumped her full of his love.

As far as anyone could tell, being heavy with child had little impact on how Angela practiced medicine. She favored her back, and sat more often when she might have stood to speak with a patient.

But while people didn't notice any change in Angela, Angela noticed a distinct change in the attitudes of most of her patients. They argued less often than they had in the past, and took her word for things more quickly. They were less prickly than when she had first started caring for them.

At first she thought it was because she had married one of their own, but while everyone in town called Dub "Dub" no one addressed her by her first name. Everyone called her Doctor or Doc. But everyone had always used her title before she married Dub. She spoke to Bob about it, asking him why she sensed a change in the people.

"You're pregnant," he said, simply.

"So?"

"That proves you're human," he said. "Most women in this town have been pregnant. They know what you're going through. You could have avoided it, but you didn't. That means something to to them.

"The women, maybe," said Angela. "But the men are falling all over themselves to be nice to me too."

"A pregnant woman is the future of the race," said Bob. "She should be respected and honored."

"Oh," she said, feeling like she hadn't done anything special. If anything she'd been foolish. Not that she was complaining. It was the best mistake she'd ever made as far as she was concerned.

Holly stuck her head in Bob's office.

"Angela, you have a patient."

"All right. Put him in treatment room A and I'll be right there. I have to pee again. It seems like I have to pee every ten minutes."

"Who said it was a him?" asked Holly, grinning.

"All right," said Angela patiently. "Put HER in treatment room A. I still have to pee!"

"Who said it was a her?"

"Do I need to spank you?" asked Bob.

Holly put the fingertips of one hand over a mouth that had taken an "O" shape.

"Oooooo, I'm so scared!" she squeaked.

Bob got up and she squeaked again and ran.

Angela ignored them both and went into the staff bathroom. She washed her hands and hurried to treatment room A before she had to pee again. Going through the door she saw a plain-faced woman, clearly nervous, pacing. Sitting in the chair was Ezra Brown, dressed as always in his police uniform. Angela rocked to a stop.

"Afternoon, Doc," said Ezra, smiling widely.

"Is there a problem?" asked Angela.

"I sure hope not," he said. "This is Chelsey, my wife. It took me near to six months to convince her to come see you."

Angela looked at the woman, who was getting red-faced.

"What's wrong?" asked the doctor.

"He wants me to do ... that," said the woman weakly. "It ain't natural."

"Do what?" asked Angela. She looked at Ezra, who was grinning. She looked back at Chelsea, who was blushing even harder. "Do what?" she asked again.

Ezra spoke. "I believe the polite term is oh-ral sex," he said.