Chapter 2 – Fire in the water is the body of our love.

Angie kicks her legs in the water and I smile at her. She loves to swim, and I love seeing her face light up. Tina and I are ready to expand our family. I never thought Tina would know how I felt, let alone that I would get to experience child birth. But it’s real, and it’s going to happen. Just the thought of it brings a smile to my face.

“Hey, you two!”

I turn and smile as I see Tina walk through the back patio doors in a pinstripe pencil skirt and matching button-up top. There’s something decidedly sexy about her work attire. She’s… provocative, powerful, traits of hers that I’m still becoming accustomed to, maybe even attached. “Hey, T.” Her face is beaming and radiant and burnished, her wavy golden hair streaked with sun-lightened fragments from our weekend in the sun, and I am determined to locate every last freckle when I take her into our bed later this evening. “You’re home early.”

She reaches the edge of the pool and crouches down. Angie starts chanting, “Mama T, Mama T…” in her quiet voice, and Tina smiles as she kisses me and then the baby.

She takes Angie’s hand and says, “Hey, baby girl.”

She gives me a mischievous look and I smile knowingly. “I was just about to put her down for her afternoon nap.” I grin at my wife. “I’m glad you’re home.”

She smiles again as she stands and walks over to the chaise lounge to retrieve a towel. I pass Angie up to her and she wraps her up in the towel as I come up out of the pool. Tina kisses Angie again saying, “Are you ready for a nap, Pookie?” Angie immediately nods her head before the meaning of the word ‘nap’ sets in. Then she starts to shake it hard from side to side. We both chuckle at her and she blows out an overdramatic breath. I can’t help but laugh. She doesn’t really fuss or throw tantrums; she’s reserved for a child. When she’s upset she seems to be almost condescending in her disagreement. I chuckle again and the three of us walk upstairs to the bathroom.

Tina starts to undress Angie and I start the shower water, undressing as well. “So, when you get done, I thought we could start early today. Shooting was stalled due to electrical issues on the set.”

I take Angie into the shower and start to rinse us both off. I look at Tina’s burnished face and can’t help but smile. “That would be great.”

I finish rinsing us both and Tina again takes Angie in a fresh towel after handing me one. “Thanks.”

She smiles again. “I’ll get her ready while you get dressed.”

I smile as I watch them retreat and wave at Angie over Tina’s shoulder before I finish toweling off. I walk into the room and pull on a tank and jeans before padding barefoot to Angie’s converted nursery. She’s lying on her toddler bed, cuddled up with her Hammy, and Tina’s sitting next to her talking quietly. I smile at them both and Tina kisses her, standing as I approach. I lean down and kiss Angie’s cheek. “I love you, Angie.”

She looks up at me as I pull away and quietly says, “Love you.” I smile and stroke her hair. I would do anything for this little girl, and something tells me she knows it. I stand to my full height and see Tina gazing at me adoringly. I sigh. I’d do anything for this woman as well, and something tells me she knows it.

We leave the door ajar and head down the stairs. Tina immediately boots up the laptop and smiles brightly as she takes my hand and leads me to the couch to sit together. I settle in next to her and gaze at the screen as she pulls up the California Cryobank’s website. She spends a few moments renewing her old subscription and then navigates us to the search options. “Okay…” She looks over at me. “So, what do you want the donor to look like, what attributes?”

I furrow my brows at her. “Well, just like you wanted me, I want a donor that’s as close to you as possible.” Her face is beaming as she leans in and kisses me sweetly. She pulls back and strokes the curls from my eyes and I can see all of the love and warmth in her own shining back at me.

I put my arm around her shoulders, resting it on the back of the couch and lean over her shoulder to watch her check off the items that are closest to her own attributes. Height: 5’8” and below. Eye Color: Hazel. Hair Color: Blond. Hair Texture: Wavy. Blood Type:… She looks at me and we stare at each other for a long moment before both chorusing, “Nah.” She leaves that spot blank and goes on to the next. Donor Type: Anonymous. Donor Type: ICI. She smiles at me and I wink back. Of course we’re doing this at home. Education Level: Bachelor or higher. Areas of Study:…

She stops at this one and looks to me with a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

She sighs. “Well, I don’t mean to follow a stereotype, but most of Hollywood, from actors to producers to PAs, have or have had a drug problem. I know that’s not always the case, but it might be good to deviate in this a little bit. Maybe just general business and psychology?”

I stroke her back. “Why psychology?”

She grins. “I minored in it at my advisor’s insistence and I’m glad I took it. Hollywood isn’t brimming with the mentally stable.”

We both chuckle and I say, “That’s fine.” She smiles and hits the check marks. Ethnic Origin: Caucasian. Ancestry: English, German, French. Religion: Agnostic, Atheist, Declined. She looks to me and we both smirk. Donor Look-A-Likes:…

I grin lasciviously at her. “I’d say Charlize Theron with a touch of Rachel Evan Wood and Liv Tyler.”

She snorts at me and slaps my thigh playfully as she looks to me with a raised eyebrow. “You’re full of shit.”

I smile at her. “That may be, but I’m also right.” I reach up and stroke her cheek as I lean in to kiss her full mouth.

She lets me have my way for a long moment before pulling back and eyeing me speculatively. “You think you’re just so smooth, don’t you.” She says this as a statement of fact, and that’s probably because it is, well, a fact. I chuckle at her incredulously raised eyebrow and she shakes her head as she returns her attention to the selection box and says, “Well, they only list male look-a-likes.”

She glares at me as I take her face in my hands to study it closely. “Hm… maybe… Woody Allen and Jaws from James Bond…”

She bites at my hand and I can’t help but chuckle as she says, “That’s what you get for calling me ‘Jaws.’”

I smirk at her, “Well you are a high-priced executive…”

She lunges at me and I lean away quickly, but not quickly enough. She places a playful bite on my stomach and I fucking squeal like a little girl. She starts laughing at me with wide eyes as she sits up and I sit forward hesitantly with a glare as she says, “Now be nice or I’ll actually select your look-a-like suggestions.”

I glare as she chuckles again and once she’s calmed down I say, “You’ll never speak of that noise to anyone.”

She grins mischievously and I sigh. “Okay, seriously, I’d say maybe Matthew Perry and a young Richard Gere.”

She laughs even harder. “You’re serious?”

I clear my throat. “Well, I’m not one to look at men, but somewhere in there, I guess… yeah.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “Okay, then. I doubt we’ll get any results, but we can always just remove things.” I smile back at her as she selects Matthew Perry. Richard Gere isn’t available. She hits the search button and we sit back and wait for the results to show. We watch the little loading circle spin and spin before a single option pops up. She looks to me with a raised eyebrow. She clicks the donor profile open and I read aloud.

Donor number 13676… New… Counselor. His warm hazel eyes and full lips are striking, but it’s really Donor 13676’s sparkling smile and chiseled jaw that make you grin back.” Tina looks at me and we both start to laugh. She turns back to the computer. “My God, what have they done to the site? They make them sound like…”

She stutters a bit so I finish for her. “…Harlequin Romance heroes?” She looks to me and we both laugh. “Okay, okay, let’s get through this.” I clear my throat and continue in my best talk show announcer voice. “Don’t let his fair-skinned, laid-back appearance fool you. His charming and congenial nature is just as delightful as his brilliant intellect and sharp wit. But he is more than just good looks and personality – his background is also impressive: he was once surrounded by celebrities and politics, but he boldly changed career directions, seeking a path that would both allow him to look out for the less fortunate and utilize his postgraduate degree in licensed therapy. With confident determination set in his eyes, he hasn’t looked back since.”

I scroll down to view the details listed below. “T, he meets every specification we listed. He’s even negative for CMV. It’s a little… creepy.”

She blows out a breath. “I know…” She meets my gaze with a serious one of her own. “This is only the first search; did you want to keep looking?”

I take her hand and play with her fingers. “I know it’s strange, but if he meets everything we want, why would we?”

Her smile is radiant as she lifts my hand to her mouth to kiss my knuckles. Her smile falters a bit as she reaches up to stroke my face. “I don’t want to tell anyone until you’re pregnant. I want to be sure that we don’t let the others get too involved like they did before.” I nod my head at her in agreement and she smiles sadly. “I wish we had done this with Angie. I’m just so sor–”

I lean in and kiss her. She seems surprised at first, but eventually tangles her hands in my hair. I sigh as I lean back and she settles forward against me. The kisses go on for long minutes and I smile against her mouth during one of the transitions. I haven’t sat and just necked since college. Again I’m reminded of what life as a young adult could have been had I been with her.

She pulls back and answers my smile with a raised eyebrow. I stroke it and say, “So I’ll start to track my ovulations. Do you want to go ahead and reserve this donor?”

She kisses me quickly and the excitement is pouring off of her as she turns back to the screen and wakes up the sleeping computer, reserving the donations with a few clicks. I smile warmly at her as I wrap her in my arms and lay her down, reveling in the thoughts of a past I didn’t have, but a joyful future I’m confident I will now, as I continue to kiss her like we’re eighteen again.


I put the noodles in the water and push them under with a wooden spoon before covering the pot and returning to the chopped veggies on the block. I scoop them up and add them to the sizzling ingredients already in the skillet. “Babe, I’m home!” It still never fails to bring a smile to my face, even after three years.

I turn to see Tina striding towards the kitchen with a warm smile. She tucks her arms around my waist and I lean down to kiss her in welcome. I smile as she pulls back and she raises an incredulous eyebrow at me as I gaze at her with a satisfied smirk. I can almost see the synapses firing in her beautiful mind and my smile widens as she considers me with hopeful speculation. She finally steps back, still holding onto my waist. “Are you…?” I answer her with a bright smile and she hugs me tenderly, leaving a sweet, lingering kiss on my lips.

She tucks her head under my chin and sighs against my breast. “I can’t wait to knock you up.” We both chuckle softly before she sighs and her voice turns serious. “I mean it. I can’t wait to see you pregnant with our baby.”

Tears well in my eyes and I kiss her again before the sizzling in the skillet catches my attention. She releases me partially and cuddles up behind me while I stir. “Where’s Angie?”

I smile. “She is with her Uncle Malcolm for the night.” I feel her smile before she nuzzles her face into my back. I turn off the gas burner and stir the veggies one more time before lifting the lid on the pot and checking the noodles. “Are you hungry?”  I smirk as I see her hand pull away from the front of my waist to turn off the burner.

Her breath is warm against my back and sends tingles skittering across my skin as she kisses between my shoulder blades and says, “Is everything ready?”

I turn my head to speak over my shoulder and close my eyes as her kisses grow warmer, more open, and more lingering. My voice is breathless but I manage to say, “Next to the bed…” She runs her hands up under the front of my blouse and cups my breasts, palming them as she continues to kiss and excite me effortlessly. Why is it that we have no choice when or how we feel? Are we all just a complex set of erogenous nerves completely deluded into believing that we have control of ourselves? And then, this one person, this one incredible person, comes along and takes us places we not only can’t reach alone, but never had the forethought to find before.

Tina’s small, warm hand finds an exceedingly intense bundle of nerves, and I have to lean forward and grip the counter to hold myself upright. I let out a shuddering breath as a tense twinge of arousal throbs low in my hips. Her steady, lust-roughened voice reaches out to me through the sea of longing that’s welling in my ribs. “Bette…” My grip on the edge of the counter is white-knuckled, with the tension slowly boiling in my blood, so she releases her hold on my senses long enough for me to focus. My breathing is ragged and I feel dizzy but I know she’s only just begun. “Turn around.”

I manage to make my legs work and turn to lean against the counter, still clinging to it for stability. The deep and hungry gaze of my wife, combined with the little bit of strength and resolve the ability to move gave me, releases a flood of determination, power, and self-assuredness. She’s let go of the intricate system of controls, and I’m running entirely on lust-fueled adrenaline.

There’s a long moment as we consider each other with heaving chests, ragged breaths, sweating palms, and pulsing blood that gathers in regions decidedly southern. Tina is the first to break, though only by a fraction of a second. Her hands tangle in the hair on either side of my face as she pulls me forward; attaching our mouths together is a passionately familiar and steady embrace that’s fluid in the choreographed grace of time, knowledge, and tender care.

I don’t hesitate to respond with an open, waiting mouth, swirling tongue, groping, frantically caressing hands, and a forward motion that pushes us in the direction of the patio doors. We need to get up the stairs and fast.

We make it as far as the wall just outside and around the corner, and I push her up against it hard, pulling her blouse over her head. The moment’s loss of contact is almost painful before our lips come back together roughly. I reach down and palm the full, firm globes of her ass as I stradle her thigh and pin her with my own, pulling her hips tight against me for just a moment of friction and relief. She whimpers and starts pulling at the buttons of my blouse, frantically opening it and getting it halfway down my shoulders.

I let go of her long enough to allow her to release me fully, ball it up, and throw it behind me. She’s already continued pulling and sucking on my tongue as she starts to push us up the stairs. We stumble twice before finally reaching the balcony and stumbling through the doors. I push her down on our bed and crawl up on top of her, fondling and tugging on any part of her I can get my hands on.

She winces and I release her long enough to desperately push the baby toys and books away. She finishes clearing the bed as I stand and grab the ends of her jeans by the ankle, pulling hard as she lifts her hips and kicks her legs to get them off. The momentum of one last hard yank throws them aside, and I come down hard on top of her. She grabs me again and pulls me tigher against her as she fumbles with the buttons of my slacks. I sit up and throw her hands away from me as I pull them apart.

Her small, warm hands sink into the sides of the lingerie beneath and tug them down, the soft fabric scraping roughly against my thighs with the hurried and anxious motion, a dichotomy that only further escalates the pounding need and flow of arousal pooling in my sex. I stand up and she follows me to sit at the edge of the bed and help divest me of the rest of my clothing as she licks and nips at my chest with her tongue and teeth. I kick off the slacks and she wedges her knees between my legs, steadying me with her hands on my hips as she pushes out to spread me open to her gaze.

The heat of her stare and weight of her longing sends another flare of eroticism gushing from my center as she runs her hands lightly over the area and leans forward to take me into her mouth. My head falls back on my shoulders, the tense muscles and tendons bending and standing in stark relief as she laves me deeply, alternating between soft and hard, in and out, up and down. It’s like she’s everywhere and nowhere at once. I feel the first cresting sweep of orgasm about to peak and she stops.

I look down to see her panting heavily and resting her forehead against my lower abdomen, still nuzzling me as she breathlessly says, “Not yet…” I close my eyes and groan. The sight of her doesn’t cool the molten intensity of my need for her at all. I feel her hands slide up my torso and turn me, forcing me down onto the bed by the pillows. She meets my gaze as she removes her bra slowly, giving me a tortuously unhurried view of her full, round breasts.

She’s such a fucking tease, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love it. She is wonderfully and beautifully made, and I never believed in the notion that someone can be made specifically for another until I lost her. There could never be another. I know this even now, as I drink in her nakedness with my thirsty eyes and feel my mouth water. She is my soulmate, through and through, and that’s why our bodies fit together so well. It’s a connection that supersedes all things and she’s about to prove it. We know completion physically, emotionally, spiritually, and from that, life has and will continue to spring forward. All things will come through the cyclical process of give and take. She gave herself to me. I gave myself to her. I gave her a child, and she is about to give me one as well. It’s completion, total, irrevocable, soul-rending, and purified by the fire of love and forgiveness.

She pulls the small vial from the cold storage container on the nightstand and closes her hand tightly around it to ready it. Her eyes never leave my body and I decide to peel back everything to her desirous gaze. I pull my knees up and open myself to her. I see her swallow as she again looks on me and the waves of sweltering heat radiating out of her eyes are almost blinding. It’s like staring into a furnace. I feel the flush of longing pinken my skin and leave a slight sheen on its ready and waiting surface.

She takes the syringe and crawls up over me, her wavy golden tresses falling forward and framing her celestial face in a halo as bright as a star, my star. She reads the devotion that flitters across my countenance and crawls up between my legs, opening the vial, inserting the syringe, and pulling back the plunger.

Once she’s done, she leans back giving me a decidedly provocative glimpse of the shapes and seductive contortions of the female form as she places the empty vial back on the nightstand. I have never wished to be an artist as much as I do now, if for no other reason than to capture the erotic play of chiaroscuro dancing across her burnished and freckled flesh. I reach up to touch one of the small imperfections that light my world with wonder and call me to rest beneath the canopy of its warmth.

I kiss the tiny dot reverently before I look up into her wondrous gaze to see tears of joy falling like soul-enclosed walls, collapsing to a whisper soft landing against spongy soft synapses of a human mind that cannot comprehend for even one moment this love, these emotions, all these things that make us human. We are about to create life from love; it’s life- and mind-altering.

She kisses me sweetly and we gently fall back against the bed together. I stroke up the sides of her sloping waist and press my raised knees together around her hips to hold her to me, to feel the friction of her body against me as her soul meets mine. She gazes deeply into my eyes as she sets the syringe nearby and reaches down between us to touch me, to open me up. Her touch is more than needed and I feel myself clamp down on her in welcome, in desperate need. Her strokes are smooth and easy as she bends her fingers upward to stretch and pull at the delicately woven receptors with a sure touch.

I try not to close my eyes. Even when she’s being gentle and loving, there’s something so heavy about the way she makes love to me. I feel completely unraveled in the wake of her small, slow, steady, and powerful touch. I feel the first trembles of a ready orgasm crest through me, but I know she’s not done. She reaches deeper, firmer, faster and pulls another from me, but it’s still not enough. My legs begin to tremble with tensing muscles as she reaches her thumb up and adds smooth, quick circular strokes to the mix. My chest starts to heave and there’s a ringing sound in my ears as the pressure in my skull reaches high into the stratosphere, spilling over in a shattering climax that leaves me grasping at the thin threads of consciousness.

The euphoria of afterglow settles over me and I feel a tickling sensation. I find the will to open my eyes in time to see her withdraw the syringe. She discards it on the nightstand and places a pillow beneath my hips. I can’t help the tears that pour forth from my heart, my soul, and stream down my face. She pulls the comforter from the foot of the bed and wraps my lower half with it as she pulls up next to me, tucking my head under her chin and stroking my hair. I feel the trembles of tears roll through her as well as I absorb the sheer comfort of her, of this moment, of the future we’re building together. I know that nothing can touch us. Fate wouldn’t be that cruel, not now. We’ve earned this and I sigh in the security at the feel of her rapidly pounding breast against my ear, my link to life itself… to her.

Continued in Chapter 3 – Valium is no good for her.

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