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Mark, Jenni, and Freddy are parked in a no-frills shared hospital room for her early labor, at least. The guys sit in vinyl-covered chairs by the high, narrow bed in which she rests, still clothed in her favorite maternity summer dress. It’s not at all what Mark had wanted for her, but the baby is almost a month early, so this is their accommodation. Their plan included a “birthing room,” that looked more like a hotel than a hospital because of his wife’s fear of anything medical. The shape her childhood abuse had taken was often medical and he worried that if his little girl was already scared, the stark hospital setting would only add to it. However, Jenni is still too distracted at the elation of being married to him and by the new sensations occurring in her body to really notice the cold, comfortless setting. She hasn’t said much, just holds his hand and gives him reassuring smiles.
“How are you feelin’ now?” he asks. “Too cold?” It’s the beginning of September and still hot enough they have the air conditioning turned up high.
“I’m okay so far, Daddy. I’ll save my complaining for when this gets bad. Not much is happening yet.”
“Well, anything I can do, you know that…”
Jenni shifts to the far edge of the bed. “You can cuddle me, if you want to.”
“Sure, baby.” Mark climbs heavily onto the crinkly mattress. On his side, they both fit. He rests his hand on her belly and feels activity. “Think he knows somethin’s up.”
“Yeah. He knows it’s his birthday,” she chuckles.
Jenni turns on her side and snuggles her ass against him as she’s done so many times. He responds in the normal way by getting hard.
“Can we?” she asks softly. “Just a little?”
“Can we what?” he asks in disbelief.
“I want to feel you inside me, Daddy. We might not get to for a while. I miss it already.”
Mark sighs. “I don’t know. You’re having a baby, honey.”
“Not right this minute. Just a little. Please?” she pleads with him.
He groans, unable to resist her. “Just for a minute to settle ya down. This is probably a mistake,” he says as he unzips.
He pulls up the back of her skirt and helps her struggle out her panties. They’re drenched in a way that makes him check for blood, but she’s just soaking wet.
“You’re… really horny right now?” he asks. This was not something he’d anticipated.
“Yeah,” she breathes.
Mark carefully slides through her soft folds to feel the effects of labor for himself.
“Holy Christ,” he curses. Inside, his wife is newly voluptuous. It reminds him of the time he’d taken her to Evie for saline infusion, but this was ???????????? her, not just her labia sucking tightly around him. She hot and constrictive as a pillowy-soft throat. “Oh my god,” he swears again as he moves gently within her. “It’s so good, baby, it feels just like…” Mark trails off, aware that where that sentence was headed would be an insensitive way to talk to his pregnant girl.
“Like Freddy’s ass?” she guesses with a sweet, breathy laugh. “That’s okay, my love. You feel even better than usual, too. I think the baby – oh! – is pressing on a nerve. It’s giving me a crazy hard on in my pussy.”
Mark unzips her dress to take down the top and hold her milky breasts. He pulses gently inside her, more cautious than usual not to go too deep. When he does brush against her cervix, he can feel it’s a different shape than it’s been the past few months. When he pulls back abruptly, the pleasure of doing so makes him hiss through his teeth. The thought of poking his kid in the head with his length gives him pause, but doesn’t disturb him enough to make him stop.
“Mmm, I love you,” Jenni moans. “This feels like heaven.”
“I love you, too, baby girl.” He pulls her tighter against him to hold her more possessively. He does feel that, too, like he’s in heaven and enveloped in a wet, pink narcotic cloud.
Freddy looks on in a mix of fascination and adult-in-the-room concern. Even with his pregnancy fetish, he never considered fucking a woman after she’d been taken to the hospital.
“Hello? Are you still there?” It’s a voice from the other side of the curtain.
Freddy stands quickly to go to the curtain. He answers: “Are you talking to us?”
“Yeah. Can you help me with something? Please?”
“May I come in?”
“Yeah,” she laughs.
Freddy slips around the privacy curtain to see a woman in Jenni’s condition on her own. She’s in an orange scrubs top, with a sheet covering her lower half. The matching pants are hanging off a chair. Her hands are both shackled to the bed frame. The sight is as erotic to him as it is outrageous.
“You poor thing. Is that really needed?” he says.
“Can you pick a lock?” she asks. “Just kidding. I just need some water. I think my guard quit on her smoke break.”
“Oh, of course.” He takes the plastic cup from the side tray table and guides the straw to her lips. He watches as she drinks like she’s parched; her lips are chapped, but appealing as they suck. She finishes the cup.
“More?”
“No, escort bayan çapa I’m good. Thanks.”
The two take each other in as the sounds of desperately needed lovemaking drift through the curtain. It could almost pass for labor pains, but Mark’s added cries give it away. He’s always uncontrollably vocal.
The woman gazes up and down Freddy’s unusually tall form approvingly. Maybe it’s that she might be a dangerous criminal, but she’s got a strange sex appeal. Her natural beauty has the careworn look of prison life with premature lines and dull hair and skin, but her eyes are bright. Her lascivious smirk is contagious.
“So… what’s your deal? You’re with them?”
“Yes, that’s my husband and his wife,” he says with a smile. “She’s having their first child.”
The woman laughs. “Wow. Cool. How long have you been married?”
“Since yesterday. It was our wedding day, the three of us. I think we overdid the wedding night. Now the baby’s early.”
The woman’s restraints clink as her hands move to clap on impulse. “Ouch,” she says.
“Do they really think you’ll run away in your condition?”
She rolls her eyes. “Very little about this situation makes sense. You try to see the logic in their thinking, you’ll go crazy.” She nods toward the bed. “You can sit with me, unless you need to get back to them.”
“I don’t think they need me at the moment,” he says and pulls up a chair.
They listen a moment to Mark and Jenni panting and murmuring earnestly. It’s sweet and arousing, too. The prisoner smiles. Her teeth are white and straight, though one is broken.
“Kind of makes me wish I could use my hands, listening to them. Is he hot?”
“Mmm. Would you believe I’m not gay and just fell head over heels for him?” he asks.
She looks him over. “I would. Some girls are like that in prison. Wish I was, but I just like dick too much for that.” Jenni’s cries come faster; they can hear the tone of Mark’s encouraging growls. “It’s been wayyy too long since I did that.”
“Sorry,” Freddy says sympathetically. He hopes she didn’t do anything terrible to anybody because he likes her already. “Anything else I can do for you?” She raises her eyebrow. “I didn’t mean that!”
“Too bad. I know. You’re really sweet. What’s your name?”
“It’s Freddy.”
“What is it really?”
“Haha. It’s Freek. It’s Dutch. And yours?”
“Angel.”
“Is that really your name?”
“It really is.”
“It suits you, I think. There is something I can do for you, since your hands aren’t free. If you want me to, but I have to ask permission.” Freddy untucks the metal tag from his shirt collar.
“‘Mark’s Boy,'” she reads aloud. “I wish I could see the guy who collared you.”
“One second.”
Freddy rises and disappears from view for a moment. The curtain opens to reveal the hidden lovers. Mark raises up to gaze at Angel with his smoldering eyes. He’s at his most alluring with a sheen of sweat on his golden-pink face. He gives her a sweet smile before letting his hair fall forward as he returns to kissing Jenni’s neck. She is too much in her own interior sensations to be aware of anyone else but Daddy.
Freddy returns to Angel’s side of the room and closes the curtain.
“So that was my husband and his bride.”
Her eyes are wide. “I can see how a straight man might marry him,” she says. Her smile turns wicked for a moment. “Is he perfect all over?”
Freddy nods, happy to brag about his man. He holds up both hands as if measuring a length.
“Get out!” she whispers. Angel squirms under the scratchy sheet and arches her back. “How do you even…”
“Carefully,” he laughs. “He’s a gentle guy.”
“Are you?”
“Exceedingly so.”
Angel shakes her head. “I can’t believe this is happening. We really don’t have much time. This guard hates my guts, so if she walks in on us, no way she’ll be cool.”
“I hate to be quick, but I can be. Be sure to tell me what you like so I get you off before we get caught.”
“Ooh, I like the sound of that,” Angel says with a clink of her cuffs. “I can get off fast if you keep in contact with my clit while I picture you naked.”
Freddy chuckles. “Really?” Despite the reactions of Mark, Jenni, and the internet, his surprise is still genuine that anyone finds him interesting in that way. “Does this help?” In his haste to undo his button-up one-handed, he loses a button. He discards the shirt and shrugs.
“Oh, fuck, you’re seriously hot. I love tattooed men… and you’re pierced, too! I must be dreaming this. They must already have me under,” she squeals.
He sits up taller as he does when complimented. “I think you’re hot, too. May I?” he asks about the sheet.
“Yes, hurry up!”
“Okay.”
He pauses to admire the sight of a new female body up close. “I guess you must not be used to that,” she says, almost shyly by comparison to her demeanor up to now.
“No, I like women a lot,” he says, thinking she means he’s used to Mark.
“I escort bayan topkapı mean I haven’t seen a razor in a long time.”
“Oh, that’s nothing to me. I like natural… in all things. This is back in style, I hear.”
“Great. I live to be stylish.”
Freddy sits on the bed with one of her legs across his lap and slips his fingers into her dark hair. She’s wet with pregnant arousal, just like his sister. He collects some from her entrance and slathers it on her clit.
“Oh! How are you in the right spot so fast?”
“There?”
“Yes! Right there. Just like that. Ohhh… so good.”
Freddy rests his bandaged hand on her belly bump. “I really wish I had both hands right now,” he apologizes.
Angel fucks against his fingers at half-time with his tight circles. “What did happen there?” she pants.
“I cut myself in the kitchen,” he replies.
“And he cooks, too. I think your only flaw is that you’re not a prison guard,” she says deliriously.
“No one ever told me that before. Good like this?” Freddy asks. He gives her a little more pressure. The idea that they’ll be forced to leave her in this state is intolerable.
“Oh, so good, but put your fingers in me and fuck me, just for a second. Please,” she moans.
He obliges and enters her with two large fingers. He fucks her roughly and lets his thumb glide over her clit as she bucks on his hand. Her head thrashes side to side against the raised mattress. Her wrists begin to grow red, Freddy notices.
“Shh, try not to hurt your wrists, Angel.” He purrs her given name like it’s a pet one, which comes naturally to him. When he and Mark are alone together, he sometimes calls him that. Not in front of others: It makes him feel too vulnerable because he literally sees him as an angel. More like a god, really, but he must be careful lest his real ones get jealous and take away their many blessings.
“God, it feels so good to be fucked, finally… it’s been…”
“Nine months, by the look of it.”
“Smart ass. Ah! I’m close… tell me about your cock,” she begs.
“Oh, my. Time permitting, I’ll let you touch it. Now be a good girl and come for me,” Freddy says, pleased with himself to borrow one of Mark’s techniques. That would surely send Jenni over the edge, especially in his husband’s gravelly voice.
“What the FUCK is happening here? Who the FUCK are you, asshole?!”
And that would be Angel’s guard, who sounds even more unpleasant than Freddy could have imagined. Freddy doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even turn around to look at the grotesque woman. “You’re right there, Angel. Don’t you dare stop! Give it to me so I can remember what you look like in ecstasy.”
Angel’s orgasmic scream is extra defiant. Freddy remains where he is with his still fingers inside her. They maintain a warm, sparkling eye contact until he withdraws his hand to inhale her heady scent and closes his hazel-green eyes.
“Get away from my prisoner. I won’t tell you again!”
While he still blocks the view, Freddy covers Angel with the sheet to protect her modesty, then rises and languidly buttons up his shirt as he steps closer to the side rail so his groin is near Angel’s hand. He did promise. She kneads his aroused cock through his jeans to make him sigh with pleasure. So far, they completely ignore Angel’s prison guard.
“So, can I have your details so I can come to visit you?”
“That’s it! I’m calling the cops. They can arrest you for interference in the custody of a prisoner.” Freddy glances over at the guard, whose pinched face is turning blotchy. She’s losing control at having lost control.
“And perhaps I can tell them how you left a pregnant medical patient chained to a bed on her own while you wandered off for half an hour? Someone had to ‘interfere,’ or anything might have happened to her. It’s not my fault she’s beautiful and you’re terrible at your job.”
Angel gazes up at him looking as starry-eyed as a cynical criminal is capable of looking. The word he’d used to describe her didn’t go unnoticed. “You want to visit me at the prison?”
“Yes, I want more of you, Angel. Would you allow that?”
“I won’t hold my breath, but okay, it’s Angel Boucher, *unintelligible* State Pen…”
“Back away! I’m fully authorized to use this.” The guard has a taser in her hand. Freddy, who has already survived a lightning strike, looks more irritated than afraid.
By most people’s standards, Freddy hardly swears at all in English. However, like most Dutch people, in his native language, he’s virtuosic. Dutch swearing is mainly wishing a variety of revolting diseases and medieval poxes on the offending person, as well as colorful descriptions of their general poxiness. It sounds like sinister music falling rapidly from his lips and temporarily binds the guard like a spell. He stoops to kiss Angel’s forehead, sure by now she’s not dangerous or, at least not to him.
“I’ll come and see you soon. Good luck with everything and don’t be afraid, okay?”
“Bye, escort bayan fındıkzade Freddy.”
“Bye, baby.”
He returns to the other side of the curtain and slumps into the chair like an oversized angsty teenager.
Mark and Jenni have fixed their clothing, but he remains in the bed with her, elevated now. Jenni has her leg draped over him to ease her backache. She looks to be in a contented trance with her head cradled on top of his upper arm and chest, but her measured breathing does suggest labor pains more than her typical substate.
“Freddy, be careful, man,” Mark tells his husband quietly with a smile.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t know why she’s there,” he whispers. “I ain’t one to judge a criminal record, but you don’t know what she did.”
“I know. I’ll be sure I find out. If it’s anything that could hurt my family, then obviously I can’t be with her.”
“‘Be with her?’ Honey, when you fall for someone, you really get hit by the thunderbolt, don’t ya?”
Freddy glares at him.
“Oh, shit. Poor choice of words.”
“Getting hit by the thunderbolt only happened once. That was with you. I was lovesick, you know.”
“I’m sorry, sweet boy. I had no idea.”
“That’s okay. Everything’s perfect now.”
They hear movement behind the curtain, the clinking of metal locks and chains. Angel is then rolled by in a wheelchair, now dressed in a hospital gown. Her hands are cuffed in front of her and shackled to her ankles. The chain rests on her big curved belly. Freddy is as aroused and outraged as he was the first time. They already said goodbye, so Angel just gives him a knowing grin and nod. Freddy returns it, complete with dimples.
“I do have a crush,” he confesses to Mark.
“Ya don’t say.”
“Freddy, are you hungry at all?” Jenni asks.
“Why? Do you need…”
“I do. I’m full again.”
“I can eat.”
Freddy bends gracefully to latch on and Mark strokes his metallically shiny hair. He eats like he’s very hungry indeed and is still doing so when the doctor enters to see the happy, if strange, family scene.
“Well! That explains the early labor,” she says. “How are we feeling today?”
Startled, Freddy backs away and Jenni covers up. “I’m okay. The contractions are starting to hurt more,” she says.
“Uh-huh. And psychologically, how are things?”
The obstetrician has been apprised of Jenni’s dissociative identity disorder. It’s mainly for that reason that the C-section had been planned. The idea that Mark’s little girl could turn into her six-year-old self during childbirth turned his weak stomach and was the one that troubled his sleep most at 3 AM.
The doctor takes her blood pressure. The pinch of the cuff is enough to cause her to dig her nails into Daddy’s palm. The poor girl tries hard not to act like a baby, but even the least invasive procedure triggers the fears instilled long ago.
“Very good. You’ve been taking care of yourself. Any dizziness or shortness of breath?”
“Just when I look at them,” Jenni jokes.
“That’s perfectly normal, too,” the doctor replies with grandmotherly ease. “Now, I’ll just examine you to see how dilated you are. You can keep the dress on for now, just slip your underwear off.”
“They’re off.”
This garners a little smirk, nothing more.
The doctor quickly withdraws her gloved fingers at the wet displacement, checking for blood just as Mark had done. It’s just white goo with a male consistency.
“Were you guys just having sex?” she asks, puzzled.
Freddy hides his mouth. Mark’s guilty expression is one of his cutest, making him look more the domesticated dog than the wild wolf.
“Is that bad? I’m sorry. Did I hurt anything?” he asks.
The doctor shakes her head. “No, but you probably helped things along. I’m sure she was already in labor or this place wouldn’t have admitted her.”
That was true: It was not a rich person’s hospital, so they did not admit on a whim.
“Well, your dilation is keeping pace with the contractions. I’ll let the OR know to expect us for your C-section. It will probably be within the hour, two hours at most. Okay?”
Jenni gulps. That’s still happening. She had hoped the early labor meant she didn’t have to be cut open. “Tell me again how it’s not going to hurt,” she pleads.
“It’s going to feel like this,” the doctor says as she presses gently on the girl’s belly and wiggles her hand. “Just pressure, not pain. We’ll play some music so you don’t hear any funny sounds. I’ll make sure you can have both of them in with you. Would you like that?”
Mark nods vigorously. He didn’t know that was an option, but is overjoyed that he can have his boy to keep him strong while he pretends to be completely fine for his girl’s sake.
“Thank you, Doctor,” he replies.
“No problem. Stay calm — this is a happy day,” she smiles and then leaves them. “No more sex today,” she adds as an afterthought.
Jenni shifts to sit up with resolve. “Sorry, brother. No ‘Orgasmic Birth’ for me.” It’s a reference to a documentary they’d watched more than once which was porn for Freddy and a comfort to her because it told the stories of women having ecstatically spiritual, sexual natural childbirth. Mark didn’t have the patience to sit through it, but would glance up from his painting with great amusement at his subs enjoying the film together.
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