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From: "rache" <rache696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Respect 4 by Rachael Ross (Maternity PVC M/F, Pregnant, Cheating, BDSM themes))
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Date: Mon, 18 Sep 2006 23:10:03 -0400
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Respect 4
Copyright 2006 Rachael Ross all rights reserved.

Note: I'm sitting in Thailand. Through the magic of air travel, I was
in an internet café in Jakarta 4 hours ago, now I'm in a hotel in
Bangkok, with internet right here in my room! How cool is that? But my
productivity will suffer greatly, I'm sure. I guess I should say
something about the story? I haven't written it yet, but I have two
words for you: Maternity PVC... I had those words in my head before a
single word of Respect 2 was written. Now, here we are.

=-=-=-=-=

Respect 4
By rache


"What are you doing?" Jack smiled at me as he opened the bathroom
door. He knew exactly what I was doing.

"Do you think I'm fat?" I said, as if that were my fascination
with the mirror.

"Nope." He shook his head. "I think you're slow."

"What about my ass?" I turned a little, sticking it out for him. I
might have gained some weight, I was 7 months pregnant and my tummy was
huge, but my ass was still perfect.

"Yeah, your ass is slow too." He chuckled and then ducked as I
reached for the little basket holding decorative designer soap.

"Alright, alright..." I sighed, taking one last look at my body in
the mirror.

Jack was waiting for me in our bedroom. "Here it is." He was
smiling, almost triumphantly.

"Hey, I thought I was supposed to open that!" I pursed my lips,
pouting slightly. He'd gotten the package three days before, but
wouldn't open it, telling me I could have the honors Friday night.
This night.

"You snooze you lose, baby." He shrugged and he had a point. I'd
been playing with my tummy for a long time after my bath. "Put it
on."

I looked at it, black and shiny, reflecting the bedroom lights like a
dark mirror, distorted and beautiful with its odd shape and contours.
It was a Latex body suit, designed to cover the body completely, except
for the hands and head.

"How?" I was holding it in my hands, turning it this way and that.

"There's a zipper, there along the back. And it stretches too,
see?" He pulled the material in his hands.

"I'm seven months pregnant, Jack." I giggled. "Nothing
stretches that much."

"This will, it's called Maternity Fetishwear." He grinned. "Try
it." He was holding up the little brochure catalogue the company had
included with the package. It had a picture of a very pregnant woman
encased in red, but I still had my doubts.

"Maternity Fetishwear?" I rolled my eyes. "Were they selling
bridges too?"

"Heh. Why, do you want one? Come on, I want to see you in it."

"Okay." I nodded. "You're gonna have to help me." And that
was no lie. The zipper was very fine and very well hidden, but didn't
open the body suit completely. Just from about the bottom of my
shoulder blades down along my spine to the small of my back. It
wasn't all that large of an opening, but thankfully it was extremely
elastic, much like a large balloon.

It was a little puzzle for us at first, and sort of a fun one as we
tried to figure out the best way to get me into the thing. I went feet
first, through the back, and that forked well except for my tummy. We
had to do some tugging to get the latex straight and even. "I'm
stuck."

I was standing there with my legs in the right places, but everything
else bunched around my much too big tummy.

"Hold on..." Jack got a good grip and started tugging at the
rubbery material, working it up slowly as I more or less wiggled and
giggled, shaking my head at the silliness of it all. It wasn't so
difficult, not as I'd imagined on first seeing it. I put my arms in
next and then my head. The material around my neck was tight, but not
constricting. The whole thing was rather pleasant actually after Jack
zipped me up. I was aware of it at first, naturally, but it soon felt
as if I were wearing nothing at all, with just a constant gentle
pressure on my skin that I enjoyed.

"I better not go into labor in this thing." I told my husband as I
worked my arms in. "You sure it's safe?"

"Yeah. Seven months, right?" He was teasing me; we knew how
pregnant I was down to the hour. "Wow." He stepped back, nodding at
me.

"If I have to go to the bathroom..." I made a little face.

I had to go a lot, usually, at least once an hour it seemed, but I
hadn't had a lot of water recently and if I held off at the club, I
might be good for a couple hours at a time. Maybe.

"Here..." Jack unzipped me. "Try getting out."

Taking the outfit off, at least enough so I'd be able to pee, was
easier than putting it back on. I just pulled my head out, then my
arms, and then just pulled the whole thing down. It was quite
surprising really; I'd imagined it being sticky or something.

"Oh, that's not bad. Ten seconds?" I smiled, feeling a little
relieved. But then I had to get back into it, and that was easier too,
now that I knew how it was supposed to go. I'd just need someone to
zip me up again.

I was encased in skintight black latex, all 5'4" of me, with my
swollen tummy and my perfect ass. My 34C breasts plump and aching,
pressing out and up nicely in the molded breast forms that stretched
around them. Add to that my gleaming boots, black leather with 4 inch
heels, and the black leather gloves that Jack laced up my forearms and
I was ready.

"These heels are going to kill me." I told my husband, standing up
cautiously. My back hurt bad enough just walking around barefoot. My
feet tended to swell a little too, but the boots still fit. I'd just
have to stay off my feet and I'd be fine. Mostly it was a morning
thing, although I didn't know why my feet would swell while I slept,
my hands too sometimes.

"Don't worry, you can sit down all night, nobody will mind." He
obviously liked the way my pregnant body looked as I stood there. I
could see the bulge in his trousers.

The heels arched my back even more than normal, pushing my pert round
ass out invitingly behind me, and my big round tummy and breasts out in
front of me. If I wasn't already pregnant, I thought, going around in
this outfit would soon get me that way. It just screamed for sex.

"What are you wearing?" I asked him; it had just then occurred to
me that he was still wearing the suit he'd come home from work in.

"Just this." He smiled at me. "It's only a Gathering, remember?
Not a Conventicle or anything."

"Gathering. Conventicle..." I rolled my eyes a little. "I don't
even know what that word means."

Jack just smiled patiently. "Yes you do."

"Then why am I getting all dressed up just for a Gathering?" I put
my hands on my hips and he laughed at me.

"Because, I want to show you off." He gave me a little sigh,
bringing a gentle hand to my face. "Your almost perfect, Lisa."

"Almost?" I gave him a look, trying not to smile.

"Put on some lipstick. I'll get your collar." He kissed my
forehead. "Then you'll be perfect.

We'd started playing with BDSM mostly just to punish me, I think.
After I'd found out I was pregnant, my husband had looked for ways to
hurt me, both physically and emotionally. Perhaps he'd been trying to
drive me away, I think so sometimes, but I couldn't be sure. He'd
never explained himself to me and I was afraid to ask. It had begun
with spanking during sex, and then progressed to whipping me with a
belt, and then a cane. He used clamps on my breasts and labia, dripped
wax on my body, especially my stomach as it grew ever larger, and we
practiced various forms of bondage.

It was perfect for us. He had Dominant desires that he'd never
expressed or explored, and in me he found a true submissive, although
we were still learning. We'd been 'active' with the local BDSM
club for just 2 months and we weren't even full members yet. We spent
Friday and Saturday nights attending the club's events, introducing
ourselves and meeting the regular members. We seemed to be popular,
being young and attractive and eager to learn. Eventually we'd become
full members and then we'd be able to go to what were called the
Canticles, which were for members only and selected guests. Jack and I
had been to a few of those, and they should have been called orgies,
probably, because it was all about the sex. Even when there wasn't
any sex, which sounds strange, but true.

Jack had come around slowly, and he hadn't actually told me I was
forgiven yet for plotting to cut off his balls and cheating on him. And
actually, 'plotting' to castrate him is overstating it. I was just
curious about it really, but my curiosity had led me into the waiting
arms of Dr. Prescott. I'd had just that one moment of weakness, but
it had been enough to get me pregnant with his baby, and that was a
harsh betrayal of everything I loved. Most especially my husband. So, I
didn't blame Jack for taking his time with me, and even for pushing
me away the way he had. I was just glad he was taking me back, slowly
but surely.

For a time there, the first few months, he'd been almost cruel the
way he distanced himself from me and we'd only grown close again once
we discovered BDSM and how much we both loved it when he punished me.
It was incredible the way our sex life had changed, the one part of our
life together that I'd been unhappy with. Ever since the night I'd
confessed my infidelity, the night I gave Jack a reason to treat me as
something less than equal, he'd been as lustful and ardent as anyone
I could imagine. We had sex almost daily, sometimes several times a
day, but he refused to make love to me vaginally. He told me my cunt
was dirty, another man had been there, and so he'd only fuck my ass
or mouth.

I was hoping that would change soon.

I sat down at my vanity, rather enjoying the way that rubbery material
seemed to be a part of me. It was cool too, I was afraid I'd start
sweating inside it, but I guess whoever designed such things knew what
they were doing, it breathed amazingly well. I suppose they put
millions of little microscopic holes in it or something, too small to
see, but able to let the air reach my skin. I don't know how they do
stuff like that. They charged enough for it though, that was for sure.

Jack sat on the bed watching me as I pinned my hair up first, pulling
it back severely from my face. That seemed to look best with my new
gleaming black skin. Then mascara and eye shadow, a lot of eye shadow,
which I normally avoid. But for some reason the club people loved that
stuff, and it was fun to get really painted up once in awhile. I
reached for my lipstick, digging through a dozen of them for the
reddest red I could find, something called 'Emphatic Cerise' and I
paused for a second before putting it on my lips, catching Jack's
reflection in my mirror.

"Do you want me to..." I looked pointedly at my husband's crotch.

"We don't have time." My husband said, but he sounded unsure of
himself to me.

"It's just a Gathering, remember?" I licked my lips and my voice
was soft and husky. "We can be a little late."

"Yeah." Jack agreed, and that was surprisingly easy, but I didn't
mind. I knew he was very happy, like a child at Christmas.

He stood up, unzipping his pants as he walked over to me and I put my
lipstick down, feeling my heart picking up speed. Anything I could do
for him, anytime, anywhere, that was what I lived for now. It was what
I loved, and how I demonstrated my love. It had taken months to get to
the point where we were finally a husband and wife again, with only the
fetus in my womb, and Jack's unwillingness to take my pussy,
remaining between us. I prayed that when the one went away, the other
would soon follow. After I had my baby and I'd put it up for
adoption, I was sure Jack would forgive me completely. He'd fuck me
again, the way I really wanted him to, deep in my sweltering cunt.

"This won't take long..." Jack breathed with a rueful smile.
"You're so beautiful like that, Lisa."

Before my infidelity I'd never sucked a cock in my life. Jack had
never wanted anything more than intercourse, and that only once in
awhile. My previous boyfriends, of which there weren't many anyway,
had asked for head on occasion, but failed to persuade me to try it.
Jack had simply taken my mouth one night, without asking, just pulling
my mouth to his penis, and I'd been so desperate to please him any
way I could that I'd surrendered myself completely. I'd felt
humiliated by the experience, finding it degrading, especially when
Jack had finally ejaculated in my mouth, but looking back I realize
that I'd enjoyed that part of it as much, or maybe even more than any
other.

I sucked him off regularly now and I was good at it. I was even a
little proud of my newfound abilities. I knew what my husband liked and
it was a little game between us, Jack trying to hold out as long as
possible, while I did my very best to make him cum quickly. More often
than not we both won, as filling my hungry mouth with sperm, or
sometimes pulling out so he could shoot on my pretty face, was always
good for him. And for me as well.

Jack's penis wasn't overly large, certainly nothing like
Prescott's had been, but I rarely thought of the good doctor as
anything but the device that had put my baby in my tummy. He wasn't a
person to me, not anymore. I didn't like him or dislike him. My
husband was the only man I loved and his cock was perfect for me, even
average as it was. I could take all of him in my mouth, the head
entering my throat, and we both enjoyed that quite a lot. So far as I
was concerned he was the perfect size for me.

But before taking him in my throat, I just played with his smooth round
cockhead, taking it in my mouth and running my tongue around, tickling
the underside and sucking him gently. Then a little more, sliding my
lips down the thick hard shaft an inch and then back, slowly, looking
up at him so my husband could see the pleasure in my eyes as I serviced
him. I would go a little deeper, occasionally, pulling him from my
mouth so I could lick and kiss along the length of his penis, sliding
the warmth of him across my lips and face. I loved sucking my
husband's cock, and when I took him back in my mouth I went all the
way down.

I opened my throat, swallowing around the tip and taking him all the
way inside until my face was pressed to his trousers. My nose went into
the soft nest of his pubic hair, and I pushed my tongue out, underneath
his cock so I could lick the base of his penis with just the tip. He
always loved that and I could feel his gentle hands on my head. He was
murmuring to me, giving me soft words of encouragement, and moaning as
I worked my mouth up and down.

After just a few minutes he was fucking my mouth, holding my head still
and thrusting with his hips. The wet sound of his cock plunging into
the wet confines of my mouth filled the room and I had my hands on his
thighs, squeezing him as my heart raced. He was close now, and I
squirmed a little, feeling my sex growing moist. My baby gave me a
little kick, perhaps awoken by the excitement I was feeling inside. I
was so hungry for my husband's cum suddenly, I wanted to drink him
and feel his sperm warm in my stomach.

"Ohhh...fuck yeah..." Jack pushed his cock into my throat and
suddenly erupted with his orgasm. I could feel his penis between my
tight lips and over my tongue, pulsing and jerking slightly with every
spurt of semen, shooting straight into my tummy. I could taste him only
slightly, and that was the only thing I regretted. When he came like
that, with his entire cock inside me, I couldn't get his sperm in my
mouth. I couldn't play with it and savor the taste and texture before
swallowing it. All I would get would be the remnants, the last few
drops leaking from his penis as he reluctantly pulled away. That was
only enough to whet my appetite and I wished we'd had time for more.

I wore a long raincoat, wrapping it around my body, since walking
around in skintight rubber was probably not the best thing to do, even
for that city. The club was called the 'Pacific Northwest Power
Exchange' or just 'The PX' since that was much easier to say, and
members came from as far away as Vancouver, Spokane, and Portland. They
held meetings in an old warehouse, all red brick and mortar dating from
the Alaskan gold rush, when Seattle had really been booming. It was
downtown, just south of the Pike Street Market, and the street level
had been converted into stores. There was a Starbucks, a bookstore, and
an art gallery, all very eclectic and usual for trendy Seattle.

The upstairs of the building, however, more resembled a country club
than anything else, once you passed through the foyer. There were
half-a-dozen private rooms, a large socializing room, and a room that
looked like a corporate boardroom of all things, all leading from the
main area. Bathrooms, a changing area, there was even a combination
kitchen/bar to provide drinks and light refreshments. I didn't know
if the place was rented or owned by the club, but I suspected the
latter. Considering the cost of a membership, the club could certainly
afford it. Not everyone who belonged was rich, but I don't think
anyone was poor either, although I'd been told that dues could be
waived under certain circumstances.

The only bad thing about the place was the parking. There were a lot of
small clubs nearby, and the piers were just down the street, and
Seattle has always had a serious lack of space anyway.

"I'm not going to walk a mile in these shoes." I told my husband
and he was nodding, his lips compressed the way they get when he's
feeling frustrated.

"I could make you crawl." He suggested, and I wondered for a second
if he was serious, but of course he wasn't. It would ruin my new
expensive outfit.

"Next time we'll take a taxi." I said, knowing it wasn't
helping us this time, but I had little else to contribute.

"Here, I'll drop you off, you can go inside and I'll park the
car." My husband had been driving around in ever widening circles and
now we were back at the club's entrance, a smoked glass door up a few
steps between the art gallery and the bookstore.

"I don't want to go in by myself." I protested, but I wasn't
going to walk very far in those heels either. I should have worn flats
and changed once we got here, another lesson learned.

"It's okay, I'll be quick, I promise." He gave me a little
reassuring smile. "Don't be shy, go on..."

"We'll get in trouble." I said, frowning back at him.

"Not if you stay in the foyer." Owned slaves and submissives
weren't supposed to attend alone, or even be alone. The club believed
that girls like me required constant supervision, like we might get
into trouble or break something. That thought made me smile at least,
and Jack was right, so long as I remained outside the club proper we
weren't breaking any rules.

I stepped out of the car reluctantly and Jack waited until I'd
entered the building before driving off. Thankfully there was an
elevator inside, one of those large freight elevators originally, but
it had been redone so it was rather like stepping into a small
comfortable room. There was only one button to be pushed and a moment
later the doors opened to the foyer. A rather plain space with little
more than a leather bench, a fake potted plant and an unmarked door
with a magnetic card reader on the wall next to it. Jack had our card,
so I couldn't have gotten into the club anyway, although I suppose I
could have knocked, or waved at the security camera perched in one of
the corners near the ceiling. But I doubt anyone would have let me in.

So, I sat down to wait, feeling rather lonely and even a bit silly for
no particular reason. I had my hands in the pockets of my coat and I
hugged it around me, crossing my legs at the thighs, but that was
uncomfortable, pushing up on my tummy a little the way it did. It was
strange the way being pregnant changed even the little things.

A few minutes later the elevator was moving, I could hear it and I knew
it couldn't be my husband coming up already. He was going to park at
the garage up the hill, about 4 blocks away. It would take him about 15
minutes I thought, hopefully no longer than that.

There was some soft female laughter as the doors opened and I didn't
want to be looking at the elevator, but there was little else in the
room to occupy someone's attention, so I was inspecting the plant
when I heard a man's voice that sent chills up my spine.

"Well, what have we here?" He said.

"Maybe she's lost." The woman giggled.

"Quiet." The man said and I looked up at him in disbelief, unable
to help myself. "I know you." Dr. Prescott smiled, his eyes
narrowing slightly. He was wagging a finger at me, trying to remember
something. "Karen?"

I swallowed hard and I couldn't breathe. It seemed that rubber outfit
was suddenly much too tight for me; I was being squeezed inside it,
constricted and trapped. My heart was pounding and all I could do was
stare at the man I'd only met once, seven months ago. The father of
the baby growing inside me.

"Lisa." I whispered and I was blinking rapidly, hoping I wouldn't
cry.

"Lisa, yeah, sorry. You looked like a Karen for a second there." He
chuckled and was just as handsome as I remembered him to be, even more
so because I hadn't really wanted to remember him at all. His smile
was genuine and intoxicating and I swallowed nervously.

They were both dressed casual, much more so than I was. The doctor in
dark slacks and a mustard t-shirt with an open black sports coat, his
companion wearing an emerald blouse that matched her eyes, with a short
black leather skirt and low heels. She wore black stockings with red
garters that were plainly visible, and in the small gap between the
tops of her stockings and her skirt I could see her soft white skin. It
was a nice look, kind of sexy, but restrained too. At least compared to
me.

"She looks terrified." The woman said, no longer laughing, just
smiling. "First time?" She was a tall redhead with green cat-like
eyes, rather striking with her hair falling long and straight around
her pretty face.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him weakly; thinking this had to
be a dream, or some kind of a joke.

"Lisa, this is my wife and lower half, Angela..."

"Lower half?" She gave her husband a little frown and then smiled
at me, stepping closer to offer me her hand.

"...Lisa consulted with me about her husband." He smiled.
"Briefly."

"I'm Angie, totally sub, but don't let him fool you. He thinks
I've got 'owned and operated by Paul' tattooed on my ass."

"Paul?" I asked and then forgot about it as I pulled my gloved
right hand free of my pocket, shaking with the woman briefly.

"So, how is your husband these days?" Dr. Prescott was asking.

"Oh my, your pregnant?" Angela was staring at me. "I heard about
you."

"Heard about me?" I wasn't sure what that meant. I guess my
oversized coat had hidden my tummy well enough, being loose and sort of
bunched around me as I'd sat there. I'm sure they weren't looking
for me to be pregnant either, and people tend to see what they expect
to see at first.

"Pregnant?" Prescott nodded with another smile. "I guess that
answers the husband question."

"From some of the other members." Angela sat down next to me,
taking my hand. "That's so cool, can I see?"

I felt numb mostly, sitting there with Dr. Prescott and his beautiful
wife, pregnant with his child and they had no idea. The man had
forgotten all about me, even my name, and it would probably never occur
to him that the one time he'd fucked me I'd gotten pregnant. He
probably seduced a dozen women a week, for all I knew, and that would
make it a little hard to remember every frustrated housewife who fell
for his charm and looks. Not that I'd made it very hard for him
though, if the thought of refusing him had ever entered my mind, I
couldn't remember it.

Maybe the worst part of it was that I hadn't even known his first
name, which struck me very hard for some reason. I think it was just
the idea that I'd carried the man's baby for seven months already
and just now I was learning from his wife that his name was Paul. Paul
Prescott. My mind formed the words that I doubted my lips could ever
say. I was frightened and humiliated, blushing beneath his smile and
Angela's eager attention. There was confusion in my head as every
emotion you could imagine struggled to be heard. My body too was
struggling to maintain its composure. My tummy was doing somersaults,
my lungs refusing to work, and my heart just going as if I were in a
marathon.

I found myself standing up, at Angela's insistence and she helped me
with my coat, slipping it off my shoulders so they could see me fully.
It was like being naked, I suddenly realized, with another flash of
heat across my skin. The latex was so tight, so perfectly fitted that
every part of me was rendered in gleaming black. My hard puffy nipples
were outlined, my bellybutton, even my sex, my plump labia and the
cleft of my slit defined precisely. But obviously it was the round full
swell of my stomach that drew the eye and seemed so incongruous with my
small sexy body.

"You are so beautiful, my god. Look at her, Paul. Have you ever seen
anything like that?" She was serious and her husband nodded his
agreement, both of them drinking me in with their eyes.

"Thank you." I said, barely able to even whisper.

"I wish I could have a child." She was looking in my eyes. "Can I
touch you? Please?"

"Angela can't have children." Her husband explained, without
really explaining anything.

The woman touched my stomach tentatively, with just her fingertips at
first. Her eyes were focused on me, narrowed as her lips parted
slightly with anticipation. And then she was smiling as she pressed her
hand lightly to my body, smiling up at me suddenly.

"Is it moving? I felt it move...Didn't I?" She glanced over her
shoulder at Dr. Prescott for a second before I answered.

"Yeah. It's awake." I nodded and I couldn't help but smile too,
it was impossible not to.

"I had a miscarriage, when I was young..." Angela laughed
nervously, "...too young, and now..." She sighed wistfully, rubbing
my stomach with both hands. "You're so lucky. Take care of it. Take
really good care of it." Her green eyes were shining and so intense
that I thought she was close to tears.

How could I ever tell this woman that it was her husband's baby
inside me? I'd tried to forget him for so long, and when I couldn't
I wanted to hate him, and finally just felt nothing towards him. And
tonight, for a few seconds I'd felt hate, and I wanted to hate Angela
as well. But now I couldn't. I couldn't hate either of them, all I
felt was sympathy for the woman, and when I glanced at Dr. Prescott all
I could see was love and empathy for his wife on his handsome features.
I didn't understand what I was feeling or why. I didn't understand
how he could cheat on her the way he had. Sex with me had been nothing
to him, so why would he hurt her like that?

"So are you here with your husband?" Dr. Prescott asked me, feeling
impatient perhaps, although it was hard to tell.

"Jack." I licked my lips.

"Right." He nodded.

"He's parking the car." I took a ragged breath, feeling so
nervous I wanted to throw up talking to the man while his wife held me.
She'd put her right arm around my shoulder, hugging me a little,
while her left hand continued to rub my tummy.

"He sounds like a gentleman." Angela smiled at me. "A woman in
your condition shouldn't be walking too far. And those heels!" She
practically gasped, but the sparkle in her eyes told me she was teasing
me.

"He's nice." I agreed. "And these are a little hard on my back,
yeah." I laughed, feeling up and down all at once. Angela was doing
her best to relax me, just by being herself, and yet the presence of
her husband was like a shadow looming above me, making me cold all
over.

"You should let Angie give you a massage." Dr. Prescott was leaning
against the wall near the elevator. "She's a chiropractor, make you
feel like a new woman."

"Really?" I looked at her. "You're a doctor too?" She
didn't look like a doctor, but she wasn't exactly dressed for the
office either.

"Uh-huh, I do a lot of rehabilitation work at UMC, but I have my own
office in Renton." She moved slightly and then smiled, rolling her
eyes. "I was going to give you a card, but I left my purse in the
car."

"Me too, that's okay."

"Oops...going down." Dr. Prescott, Paul, said with a grin. There
was a distant bell and the elevator hummed to life. "Maybe that's
your husband now."

I felt my heart skip a beat, really finally realizing that my husband
was actually going to meet the man who had planted the child growing in
my womb. I wondered if I could dare tell Jack, or if I should try and
speak with Paul first. Or if I should keep all of this to myself and
pray it never came out.

The elevator stopped and a moment later it was moving again, rising
slowly. Coming closer and I closed my eyes, feeling like the absolute
coward I was.

I didn't want to hurt Angela, nor did I feel hatred, or even anger at
Paul. I didn't know what I felt about him. I respected my husband
though and I loved him too much, it would be impossible I thought to
hide me nervousness. He'd know something was wrong and he wasn't
blind or stupid, he'd figure it out probably, even if I didn't say
a word.

End
Rache696@yahoo.com

Note: This chapter and the following one have been proofed much more
closely for continuity than I usually do (much to my guilty remorse)
so...we're okay for a change. I threw a note in my blog, more rambling.


Blahhg thing
Let me say something here, because it is the end of the chapter. A lot
of people might not get the big cut jumps in the relationship. There
are several, but obviously the jump from ch.3 to this one is
significant. I just didn't want to spend a lot of time evolving the
relationship, going through the healing process in detail. There might
be some small continuity issues between the previous chapter and this
one, but I accepted that and hopefully readers can overlook them. If
not I'll refund their money. I basically went 4 months into the future,
120 days, and obviously things have changed. That's all we need to
know. There is some tension remaining, but I get the impression Jack is
happy, and as soon as he makes real married man-wife sex with Lisa,
she'll be happy too. She's thinking he's waiting until after the
baby is born, and put up for adoption, and their lives really do go
back to normal...But Jack, I'm thinking he likes this a little more
than normal used to be. I mean face it, the guy has a sex drive now,
why would he want to give that up? And where did it come from anyway?
His motivations are way weird and way deep, they lost Lisa, that's
for sure, and she's our narrator! Hopefully he'll tell her
something soon. And is it just me, or is a pregnant woman in latex hot?
I mean cool hot, you know...Men in fetish gear do nothing for me, btw,
so that's why my guys don't dress up. Sorry. Guys are sexy being
guys, but women need help. So, now you'll say...Oh, rache is a woman
hating hetero! I can't win.


oh, my website http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm is still there
with the text files available through the FTP server. End
masturbation...here.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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