The Culmination (36 page)

“Hey now,” Kat says primly. “Speaking as Jack Faraday’s mother, I can assure you Jack’s gonna be a complete gentleman to all the ladies he encounters.”

We all share a loud, rollicking laugh at that one.

“Well, jeez, I was trying to be funny, but not
that
funny.”

Sarah reaches over to touch Kat’s belly. “Don’t kid yourself, Kitty Kat. With the Playboy and the Party Girl with a Hyphen as this boy’s parents, he’s genetically fated to become a world-class ladies’ man.”

Kat shrugs. “Yeah. Probably
.
”

“Definitely,” Josh says. “Until he meets the right girl, that is.” He winks at Kat.

“Aw,” Kat says. “Are you trying to get laid tonight, Playboy? Because you most certainly will.”

Gloria covers her face with her hands, blushing and shaking her head.

“Oh, sorry, Gloria,” Kat says, breaking into a giggle. “But, you know, I had to get pregnant somehow.”

Gloria laughs.

“Okay, I’ve got one for you, Kitty Kat,” Sarah says. “When Jack Faraday
glances
at a woman, she gets pregnant.”

“With
quadruplets
,” Kat adds.

We all laugh, yet again.

“Oh, I’ve got one,” Gloria says. “When Jack Faraday visits the Queen, she curtsies to
him
.”

“Good one, Gloria,” Josh says, high-fiving her. “Now I see where OAP Cruz gets her mad skillz.”

Sarah and I exchange a look. What the fuck does Josh think “OAP” means?

Gloria giggles. “Oh, I just thought of another one: Jack Faraday’s
grocery lists
are
New York Times
bestsellers.”

“Wow, Mom,” Sarah says. “You’re on a roll.”

Gloria giggles, clearly having a ball.

Well, shit. Even Gloria’s getting laughs with this crowd? Come on. I love the woman, but she’s not exactly hilarious. I don’t usually join in when our foursome is having a group ‘clever-fest’ like this, since I’m clearly fourth in the pecking order when it comes to being funny. Sure, they laugh at shit I say all the time, but its not when I’m actually
trying
to be funny. But this time I think I’ve got a pretty good one. And if fucking
Gloria’s
getting laughs, for fuck’s sake, then I’m gonna go for it.

“The doctors tried to circumcise Jack Faraday, but their scalpels kept breaking,” I say, and everyone, including Gloria and Gracie (although why Gracie’s laughing is a mystery) bursts into hysterical laughter.

“That was actually funny, Jonas,” Josh finally says, still chuckling. “
Really
funny. Wow.
Intentional
humor from Jonas Patrick Faraday.” He glances out the window of the restaurant. “Are there frogs falling from the sky right now?”

I laugh.

“Looks like we’ll make a
homo sapien
out of you yet, huh, bro?”

I can’t help smiling from ear to ear. “Eh. It’s fifty-fifty.”

“Oh, man. That was really funny, Jonas,” Kat says, wiping her eyes and getting ahold of herself. “I just peed a little bit.”

“Me, too,” Sarah says. “A lot bit.”

“Welcome to motherhood,” Gloria says, and all three ladies burst into an enthusiastic dialog about how they pee their pants every time they sneeze or laugh or jump.

“So, will this legendary Jack Faraday have a middle name?” Sarah asks. “Jack William Faraday, maybe?”

Josh looks at Kat for some sort of permission and she motions to him like she’s giving him the floor.

“As a matter of fact,” Josh says, looking at me with his patented laughing-at-me-with-his-eyes look, “my beast of a son will bear the noble name of Jack
Jonas
Faraday.” His eyes sparkle at me. “Now
that’s
a dude who’ll climb the tallest mountain and slay the fiercest dragon for you. A beast of a man, in every way. And, hey, I’ve just learned he might even be funny on occasion, too. On
purpose
.”

My heart is racing. I can’t form words, so I nod. I feel electrified right now.

Sarah grabs my hand and squeezes. “Wow, guys. That’s such an honor.” Her face looks exactly the way I feel right now.

“Thank you,” I manage to say. “That’s... Thank you.”

Josh shoots me a beaming smile. “Of course, bro. We’ll be lucky if our little guy grows up to be even remotely like his Uncle Jo Jo the Dancing Clown.”

“Hey, that’s your cue, Gracie,” Sarah says. “Say it: ‘Uncle Jo Jo the Dancing Clown.’”

“Unkie Jo-Jo-da-danseen-clahn.”

“Wow, Gracie. You’re getting a lot better at that. Kat, give that girl a cookie.”

“Oh, a cookie, Mommy!” Gracie squeals, bopping up and down in her seat.

“Gee, thanks, Sarah,” Kat says. “No, honey. No cookie until after you eat your pizza and broccoli.” Kat shakes her head at Sarah. “I can’t wait to return the favor to you in the very near future—
twofold
.”

Sarah beams. “I can’t wait, either.”

“Or maybe I’ll take it easy on you, seeing as how you supplied Jack’s name and all. I didn’t think we’d ever be able to pick a name, what with Mr. Opinionated over here vetoing every fabulous idea I had.”

“Oh, yeah.
Remy.
Such a fabulous idea.”

“I like Remy,” Kat says.

“I do, too,” Sarah says.

“But, of course, I like Jack even better,” Kat says. And without further ado, Kat launches into a detailed story about how she and Josh couldn’t agree on a boy-name until Sarah swooped in a couple days ago with two fantastic suggestions: Jack and Jeremiah.

I glance at Sarah, surprised, and she bites her lip. I didn’t know Sarah had offered Kat and Josh her treasured boy-names for their own use, and the revelation makes my heart pang for her. Of course, we have no use for Sarah’s chosen boy-names—the doctor told us our chances of getting pregnant again are practically nil. And even though that’s for the best, since just the idea of going through another pregnancy makes my hair fall out, it nonetheless broke my heart to watch Sarah break down in tears when she heard the doctor’s news.

“Hey, at least you’re getting to name one Faraday boy, huh?” I whisper to her, squeezing her hand. She nods, a bittersweet smile on her face.

God, I love this woman. My heart is suddenly aching for her.

I pat Gracie on the head. “Little G, will you crawl to the other side of Auntie Sarah, next to your mommy? I wanna cuddle Auntie Sarah for a minute.”

Gracie crawls out from between us, over Sarah’s lap, and flops herself onto the bench next to Kat’s ever-growing belly. Immediately, I fill the void vacated by Gracie, scooting my body right against Sarah’s, as close as humanly possible, forcing her legs over my thighs under the table.

Sarah smiles at me and puts her cheek on my shoulder. “Hi, love.”

“Hi,” I say, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and grabbing her thigh with my free hand.

She lays her hand on my chest and melts into me. “You smell good, baby. God, I missed you.” Her hand traverses my chest and slowly works its way down to the tattoo on the inside of my left forearm—and, just like that, the pang in my heart turns into a tingling sensation in my dick.

I’m vaguely aware that Gloria’s saying something about baby-naming traditions in Latino culture. I shift in my seat, trying to relieve the sudden pressure on my cock, to no avail. Shit. I love Sarah’s mom, I really do, but right now I don’t give a flying fuck about baby-naming traditions in Latino culture.

Slowly, I move my hand from Sarah’s thigh down the length of her pretty white dress. When my hand reaches the hem of Sarah’s dress, her eyes lock onto mine with sudden understanding of what I’m about to do.

I smile.

She bites her lip.

“Yeah, that’s a lot like my dad’s side of the family,” Kat says. “I think they’ve passed down the name Edwin as a middle name for boys for, like, four generations or something crazy like that.”

I slide my fingers underneath the hem of Sarah’s dress and then all the way back up her bare legs, skimming the insides of her smooth thighs with my fingertips.

Up, up, up my fingertips go.

Until.

Yes
.

Pay dirt.

My cock twitches.

My lovely wife’s not wearing underwear, exactly as instructed.

Good girl.

“But I was like, ‘No son of mine is gonna have the middle name
Edwin.
I don’t care how many generations... ‘”

My fingers glide up to Sarah’s sweet pussy and brush lightly against her tip. She’s wet. My cock thickens in my pants. My fingers zero in on her clit. It’s hard. She shudders and so do I. Oh God, how I’ve missed getting inside this woman.

“I mean life is hard enough without having Edwin on your driver’s license your whole freakin’ life...”

When my fingers slip into Sarah’s wetness, she lets out a low moan, which she quickly passes off as a cough. Holy fuck, it’s been six fucking weeks since I’ve been allowed to put anything whatsoever inside my wife, and the sensation of her warm slickness tightening around my finger after all these weeks is making my hard-on jolt like a rabid watchdog on a chain.

Sarah’s pussy clenches around my fingers with her arousal. She squeezes my thigh under the table—all the while looking at Kat and nodding like she’s thoroughly engrossed in whatever Kat’s saying. Damn, Sarah’s good.

Sarah’s crotch is getting noticeably wetter and wetter under my touch—deliciously so. I slide my fingertip from her wetness to her tip and back again, over and over and over—and then back to her clit to stay a while—and, suddenly, Sarah’s hand moves from my thigh to my hard-on under the table. She squeezes.

I glance at her and her cheeks are bright red.

I smirk. This is fun.

Josh laughs and begins babbling about something or other—I think he’s telling a story about our business trip to San Diego these past three days.
Blah, blah, fucking blah.

“It was so funny...” Josh is saying. “Jonas was just sitting there, crunching numbers, smashing every cockamamie valuation the guy had to Kingdom Come...”

Whatever Josh is babbling about right now, I don’t give a fuck. There’s only one thing I care about.

Sarah opens her thighs wider and thrusts her hips toward my hand and I continue working her up and down and in and out with increased fervor. Again my fingertips land on her clit and begin massaging her in earnest.

A strange noise catches in Sarah’s throat.

Her pussy flutters.

My cock jolts.

Oh, God, I’ve got to get inside this woman.

“Right, Jonas?” Josh suddenly asks.

“Right, Josh,” I say evenly, not missing a beat. I don’t know what the fuck I just agreed to, and I don’t care.

I begin finger fucking Sarah in earnest under the table, reaching deep inside her, stimulating her G-spot, enjoying the sensation of that secret bundle of nerves filling up like a water balloon at my command. Fuck, I can’t wait another minute to get inside her. My cock is throbbing outrageously. If we were alone, I’d already be inside her right now, riding her ’til she screamed.

Sarah shifts in her seat and suddenly jerks her body away from me. Oh, she’s getting close. I’m a shark smelling blood. I pull her into me, sliding her ass on the bench right up against me, and reach up inside her again, flicking her G-spot with my fingertips with purposeful strokes.

“Oh,” Sarah says, arching her body into my hand. She suddenly slaps her hand over her mouth and bows her head.

I’ve never wanted to fuck Sarah as much as I do right this moment. I’m in pain with my arousal. For a split second, I imagine myself trying out that fingering technique Sam the Squirt-Master told me about the other day—the supposedly surefire way to induce any woman into involuntary squirtitude—and, even in the midst of my arousal, I almost burst out laughing at the idea of making poor Sarah ejaculate for the first time all over her own mother. While sitting in a fucking chain restaurant. Next to her niece.

Just for the sheer amusement of it, I switch to massaging Sarah’s clit again, even though it’s a bush-league move at best, and based on Sarah’s reaction—she likes bush-league moves a whole fucking lot. After about fifteen seconds of working on her clit in earnest, Sarah throws her elbows down on the table, covers her face with both hands, and makes a weird noise, obviously stifling a moan.

“Sarah?” Gloria asks. “Are you sick?”

Sarah doesn’t respond.

“Sarah?” Gloria asks again, obviously deeply concerned.

Sarah shakes her head, unable to speak.

“Sarah, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” Sarah says, her voice trembling. She removes her hands from her face. “I’m fine, Mom. Just had a weird hot flash or something.” A little yelp escapes from her mouth and she shudders. “I’m fine now.”

I don’t let up. This is too hot to stop now.

Sarah slams her fist down on the table. “I’m fine,” she says, gritting her teeth. “
Yes
.”

“Are you feeling like you’re gonna throw up?” Gloria asks, her face awash in pure anxiety. “You look like you’re gonna throw up.”

“Auntie Sarah trow up.”

“Nope. I’m fine,” Sarah says, her voice tight.

I’m merciless under the table, a fucking sniper. The God of the Old Testament—a wrathful and vengeful God. I don’t know why I’m deriving sick pleasure from pushing Sarah to climax right under the nose of our entire family—in a restaurant with fucking kiddie menus, no less—but I am. Oh God, yes, I am.

“Are you sure,
querida
?” Gloria says. “You don’t look well at all.”

Sarah nods. “Yup,” she squeaks out, her voice straining. “
Yes
. I’m. Sure.
Yes.
I. Am
. Yes.
”

“Okay,” Gloria says. She squints at Sarah for a beat before turning her attention to Gracie. “How’s your pizza,
querida
? Is it yummy?”

With Gloria’s attention diverted from Sarah, I lean into her ear and whisper to her. “I wanna fuck you so bad.” And that’s all it takes to push her over the edge. Like a storm door slamming open and shut in a tornado, her sweet pussy suddenly contracts around my fingers, over and over—her juices dripping down my hand.