DAMAGED - A Bad Boy Romance (3 page)

Sweat was pouring from my forehead; every vein on my skull felt like it was about to explode. She wanted a baby,
I’d give her a fucking baby all right.

I had her pinned against the bed, her legs nearly behind her ears, and was buried far up into her, both our bodies red and clenched from the effort.

My mind flashed back to a hot summer day on the beach, when Tanya and I had snuck into the little wooden beach huts and she sucked me off while a line of kids waited outside to change out of their wet swimsuits. Just as I was sure somebody could make us out through the thin gaps between the slats of wood, she had pulled my dick into her throat and swallowed once, hard, sending me easily over the edge. She smiled naughtily up at me as I tried to be silent, thumping a fist against the cramped wooden walls.

“Is there somebody in there?” someone had said, and she went in again to suck out the last pump of cum. God she was beautiful then. She could make me explode just by looking at me sideways. In our early twenties, my life’s mission was to hold on long enough to squeeze those sweet, sweet orgasms out of
her
; I never anticipated a future where I’d be struggling to eke out any orgasm at all.

Today was the last day of the “fertile window”, measly day 5, and she was pissy with me even though she said she wasn’t, and I was pissy right back, even though I said I wasn’t. I was being a little rough now, sure, but fine. If she wanted me to be some stupid breeding stud pony, well, then she could shut up and take it.

We had used toys, we had watched movies, we had nearly broken our necks sharing a shower. Our sex had taken on that weird, stubborn vibe of a long distance marathon just before things start to get ugly. We were going to procreate, dammit, come hell or high water.

I made a few more angry thrusts then released a load into her, aware that I was probably pulling some rather unflattering faces. I flopped down beside her, knackered.

She did not look happy. I couldn’t believe it. I had huffed and puffed myself nearly to a coronary and she was lying there still, as irritated as we when we started. What did she
want
?

She cleared her throat.

“I’ve booked an appointment with the fertility specialist,” she said to the ceiling.

“What, why?” It seemed like a stupid question once I had said it.

“It’s been more than 6 months now. Something should have happened by now. I’m not
that
old. Something’s wrong. We need to take the next step now.”

I listened quietly.

“Are you sure you’re not just jumping the gun? Maybe this was the lucky time, eh...?” I said, reaching for her. She shot a dry look at me.

“But pudding, come on, this is part of the problem. You’re so stressed. And you’re stressing
me
out. Can’t we just go with it? Enjoy ourselves? It’ll happen.”

“But it isn’t happening now!” she snapped.

Oh shit. I was going to make her cry.

“Love, just calm down. We need a break or something, you and me both. We should go somewhere…”

I scooched up closer to her and propped myself up on my arm, looking at her imploringly. “Let’s go on a holiday, you and me, and we’ll forget about work and ovulation and whatever for a while and just enjoy each other again. People always get pregnant when they just relax a little.”

“I’m done relaxing,” she said, with a spite in her voice that was unusual for her. Almost instantly, she melted again and hugged me, her tangled hair tumbling onto my chest.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she said, “I don’t mean to be like this. I’m just …I want a baby Alan. I’m ready for it.
Now
.”

We sat like this for a few moments, nothing but the sound of the neighbour’s telly to break the silence.

“Love, don’t worry. We
will
have a baby. Book an appointment. The doctor will probably say everything’s just fine… will you go on a holiday with me then?”

I gave her a cheesy grin, trying to cheer her up.

“Ok,” she said and nestled into my chest.

I’ve worked on some pretty complex machines in my life, honestly, but nothing compares to girl bits, and that’s the god’s honest truth. Tubes, frilly open pieces, what looks like a one-way valve
but totally isn’t
--

“Look at me,” I said, “I’m Ovaria, and I’ve come to fetch your soul, mortal.”

I was brandishing a plastic uterus model as a face mask, each fallopian tube making fabulous impromptu feelers. The middle bit made a pretty hilarious nose, if I did say so myself.

“Jesus, you’re such a two-year-old Alan, can you put that down?” she said.

“Negative! I will shoot you with my mucous lasers instead. Pew pew!”

Ovaria, queen of the vaginas, waggled menacingly at her. The doctor walked in just then, because of course he fucking did. He laughed.

“Well, you’ll have to get used to dealing with two year olds at some point or other,” he said as I hurriedly put the plastic model back on the table.

I couldn’t believe we had reached this point, to be honest, and everything still felt so unreal to me. Was this really necessary? Wasn’t this for people very much older and sicker than we were? I could still remember my thirtieth birthday, and the XKCD birthday cake Tanya had made for me. We had spent almost a decade furiously avoiding impregnation – how come it was so difficult all of a sudden?

“A lot of my job is actually to put people’s minds at ease. To be frank that’s really the bulk of what I do. We all like to work with these rules, you know, if you aren’t pregnant after 6 months or a year or whatever, then something’s wrong. Of course, nature doesn’t always work like that.”

It had the ring of a well-practiced speech. Tanya was hanging onto every word he said, though. Oh sure, she listens when
he
says it. Doctor Melville had kind, tired eyes and was squaring up the edges of a prescription pad on his desk before he continued.

“Your cycle is a little irregular, but it’s not anything we’re concerned about yet. We don’t see any irregularities with you, Alan, so it’s thankfully not a question of sperm quality.”

The last few months had felt like one long, arduous exam and here was my report card: we have examined your balls etc. and have found them sufficiently lacking in irregularities. Why thank you.

“So…” Tanya was leaning forward now, a little too dressed up you’d think, for a time like this.

“So, what that means going forward is that you’re not a candidate for any of the options we discussed at our last appointment, as least not for a long time yet,” he said.

I watched a small, wire like vein twitch in her neck.

“The good news is that it’s quite likely nothing to be concerned with at the moment.”

We both sat and waited for the bad news. Ovaria, queen of the vaginas, watched with bated breath as well.

“The bad news is that it’s not always possible to pinpoint the exact cause of why you haven’t conceived yet. But in my experience, it’s almost always the little things, you know. We spoke about lifestyle issues the last time, but it bears repeating. Sleep. Good food. Plenty of rest. That kind of thing.”

“She really isn’t resting much,” I blurted, feeling like a tattle tale.

“Yes, well, that’s a problem now, isn’t it? Maybe you could both try a little holiday somewhere or something, sometimes that kind of thing can help.”

I sent her over the best I-told-you-so face I could muster.

We finished the rest of the appointment, me entertaining myself by calculating how much we had paid this man per each minute of his time, and calculating how many fannies he’d seen in his career, given his advanced age and all.

I was feeling chipper, glad it was over and glad to be told, like I had said, that there was nothing wrong after all. It was a relief. I playfully poked her in the belly as we stood waiting for the lift.

“See? Didn’t I say?” I said, and leaned in for a kiss.

She pursed her lips and looked irritated. Oh God …what
now
?

I was getting angry.

The one thing the doctor was telling her to do was the one thing she simply refused to do. I had the completely unreasonable but steadily growing suspicion that she’d get pregnant if she just calmed down a bit and stopped being so uptight about the whole thing. I already felt like a performing monkey in some twisted circus, and she had long stopped seeing sex as something pleasurable. In fact, I thought angrily, we probably hadn’t had
normal
sex since the day she mentioned having a baby at all. Surely we’d have enough time for angst and stress later, when the thing was actually born?

I drew back, fuming a little.

“The doctor said it wasn’t
my
sperm, you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing… just that there isn’t a problem. We just need to
relax
and--”

“Jesus Christ, if one more person tells me to relax I swear I’ll scream,” she snapped.

We walked down to the car in silence. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were. We were good together. We had our house. We were meant to live in it together. None of this worked without her. Life would be all wrong. There were way too many rooms in that house, for a start.

“I don’t want to fight,” I said lamely, starting the car.

“So then,
don’t,
” she said with a sneer.

I didn’t like this nasty side of her. Not at all.

We drove on in silence for a while, both feeling a little tender. I was always better at pretending fights weren’t going on than actually fighting them, so I relaxed a little as the car drove on, and we found a long, easy back road that would take us most of the way home.

I love driving. I love the simplicity of being in a vehicle, any vehicle really. I love just going, just the movement of it. Tanya and I had had some of our steamiest moments in cars. That reminded me.

“Hey, love! I forgot to say, I found the perfect thing for us, actually, a narrow boat cruise – we could maybe rent the whole thing pretty cheaply and then we sleep on it and everything, and we go up and down the river and we can have it self catering or not, it depends, and--”

“We’re not going on a holiday,” she interrupted.

Oh shit. She was still angry. From before. This was beginning to get exhausting.

“Look, what is your problem? Have I done something wrong?”

These words seemed to be the last straw for her, and she all at once and violently shook her wild hair and banged her hands against the car door.

“Just stop! Stop the fucking car! I want to get out.”

“What?”

“Stop the car!”

I slammed my foot on the break and tried to carefully guide us onto the roadside before turning off the engine.

“Tanya, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, all I said was--”

“But why do you have to say anything at all? Can’t you just leave me alone about it? Christ…”

“What are you talking about? You’re crazy.”

A look of pure fire flashed over her face.

“Yes, yes, I know. Crazy. And stupid, right? Don’t bother telling me, I know. Sorry not all of us are so perfectly fucking
rational
. And now I can’t even have a baby, it’s fantastic.”

Her chest was heaving in her thin cotton dress. She seemed flushed, only moments away from bursting into tears.

“Hey… hey, I don’t think you’re stupid,” I said softly.

She looked at me, nostrils flaring.

“Why is this so
hard
?” she said eventually.

We sat there for a bit, both silently wondering if the other was blaming them for this weird mess we had gotten ourselves into. Her eyes were strange and unnervingly fluid. She had only had this particular look on her face once before, once many years ago, during a fight we had that I try not to think about anymore. They were melting eyes, eyes full of blame and accusation, and they tore at my heart to see them like that, and it hurt me so badly I couldn’t stand looking at her.

She popped open the car door and stepped out suddenly.

“Hey, where are you going?” I said, but she was gone.

She was wearing one of her cotton sundresses again, except this particular afternoon wasn’t quite the right weather for it. Hot and dry wind blew at the skirt and started to lift it up, tossing some of her loose hair as well. I got out and stood looking at her over the roof of the car.

What I loved about Tanya was precisely that she was so rational. That she never asked me to play weird guessing games with her emotions, or mocked me for being a bit slow on the uptake when it came to subtle social cues. Yet here she was, a moody wife that couldn’t be placated. I had no idea what to do.

“Will you get back in the car?” I said.

“Will you stop telling me what to do?” she replied.

The wind was tearing at her dress, occasionally lifting it right up and giving a brief, full glimpse of her thighs underneath. Even now, even like this, she was the hottest thing I had ever laid eyes on.

“Ok,” I said, “Just tell me what you want me to do. Anything. Tell me how I can make this better.”

Her gaze softened. She walked over to my side of the car.

“Just hold me,” she said, and I was more than happy to oblige. She flung urgent arms round my middle and held me tight, and I kissed the top of her head, her hair whipping in the wind around me. She mumbled something to my chest and then did something strange; pulling in closer to me, she made that familiar, almost kitten-like, hungry little push against my crotch, curling her pelvis softly into mine like she did when she wanted me.

I looked down at her and beamed.

“Hey now…” I said, a little surprised.

She giggled.

“Not so cross with me after all?” I said, and she responded with another pulse of her hips.

“So, you wanna…?” I said quietly.

“Mmm.”

“Ok, let’s get home, we’re not too far now.”

“No,” she said simply.

“What?”

“
Here.
”

Ah. Here. But, like,
here
here?

I smiled a cheesy grin, relishing the idea of rogering her right here, in the back seat in broad daylight when we had both taken time off work for a doctor’s appointment. I moved to open the car door but she laid a simple hand over mine, stopping me.

“No… here,” she said again.

She turned up a different face to me now; a leftover tear had seemingly been slashed across the side of her face by the wind, where it had dried. She had a deep, naughty look on her face, and in a heartbeat I was rock hard, thrilled at this sudden turn of events.

“Love, it’s broad daylight,” I said, although I can’t think why I wanted to dissuade her at that point. She nodded.

“Who knows who will see us here?” she said and sent a pair of eager fingers to start working at my fly. A little rush of panic went through me. Seriously, what
would
happen if we were caught? My mind quickly tried to do an estimate of how many cars were likely to be on the road at this hour, and how many we’d encounter, the probability one of them would catch us, and how long it’d take to…

Unbelievably, my cock sprang out the second it was released, somehow doing its thing without a speck of permission from me. It felt wild to have the ordinary, weekday sunshine beaming down on it, right here, in public. She reached up to me and gave me a fitful, raunchy snog and quickly spun round, lifting her skirt up and pressing her rump square against my cock.

It felt
amazing
.

She skillfully pulled the narrow strip of her underwear to the side with one hand and with the other, clutched desperately at the billowing fabric of her dress, the wind blustering it in all directions. The image was so completely ridiculous, I couldn’t help but laugh. Here she was, flaunting her little pussy at me with one hand and trying to maintain a ladylike bit of dignity with the other. Through windblown hair, she said, “quick, before anyone catches us…”

But what about foreplay? Was she ready? I didn’t want to hurt her.

“Fuck me, you big idiot!” she said, and I didn’t need another prompt. I drove my cock into her barely wet hole, and she cried out, whimpering a little. Well, she did ask.

“Love, are you ok?”

She hung her head heavy to one side and reached behind her to clutch at my hips. A low grunt was her only response. I felt the tiny ripples of her body waking up to me, shivering and puckering all around me. It seemed that within just a few seconds she was growing wet and plumping up all around me, right then.

It was incredible.

The hot afternoon sun beat down on us; we were all alone out here on this empty road – but for how much longer? She flicked her hair to the other side and pushed back into me, forcing my own hips to bump into the car behind us. She was quite a bit shorter than me, and as I settled the weight of my cock inside her, she had to rise to tip toes to reach me, balancing, fully impaled. I reached forward to steady her with a firm hand under her belly button. My fingertips found warm, dry skin there, and her delicate heartbeat fluttering inside her.