Love... And Sleepless Nights MAY 2012 (15 page)

And I want to be in you Laura
, little Jamie exults, setting off on one of his legendary laps around the metaphorical track.

For some reason my heart is beating like crazy. Laura and I have had sex more times than it’s possible to count, but because she’s heavily pregnant it feels like something completely new – and just a wee bit
strange
.

‘Shall we go into the bedroom?’ I say.

‘Yeah,’ she says and squeezes my groin one more time.

I’m up like a shot and out the lounge door with my jeans already unzipped.

I notice I’m alone.

On previous occasions my wife would have either been right behind me, or just ahead, wiggling her tight little bum as we hurry upstairs.

Now though, I look back to the couch to see her still trying to get up. It’s rather like watching a tortoise stuck on its back.

I shake the mental image before it ruins the moment and hurry back to assist her off the couch.

‘Give me your hand, sweetheart,’ I tell her and together we manage to heave her onto her feet.

I’m off again, out the door and up to the –

Still no Laura.

Back I go and now she’s leaning against the TV, one hand on her back, agonised expression on her face.

‘You okay baby?’ I say, hurrying back again. I’ve now covered the entire length of the lounge three times and my cock is starting to display signs of chaffing.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

I place a warm hand on the small of her back and give it a rub.

‘Oh, that’s lovely,’ she says. To maintain the sexy mood she once again gives my genitals a squeeze, re-affirming little Jamie’s belief that he’s going to see action this evening come what may.

Together – slowly – we make our way out of the lounge and up the stairs.

In the bedroom I rip my clothes off in nanoseconds. Five minutes later we manage to remove the last of Laura’s, and she collapses on the bed like a beached Minke whale.

I must find whales sexy as my penis is ram-rod straight and ready to go.

I don’t know what it is about Laura being pregnant, but it drives me crazy.

Perhaps it’s how lovely and curvy she is, perhaps it’s how soft and creamy her skin has become, perhaps it’s the knowledge that my child lies inside her, an affirmation of our love, sexual compatibility and my virility.

…nah, it’s the humungous tits, isn’t it?

‘How do you want to do this?’ I enquire, in the manner of a removals man asking his partner how they should get a three-seater couch through the front door.

‘Spoon me,’ Laura replies and rolls herself to one side with an audible grunt.

She’s not left me much room on the edge of the bed but I don’t want to make her roll over again. I don’t have a block and tackle handy to help her with it.

I lie down behind her and nibble her neck.

She takes little Jamie in one hand and starts to administer a slow hand job, the likes of which I try to achieve on my own all the time, but never quite accomplish.

‘Right then, let’s take this slowly,’ she says and guides me between her legs, sticking her bum back for ease of access. ‘Slowly… slowly…’

‘Left a bit, up a bit,’ I continue.

The removals firm of Newman & Newman eventually achieves a successful entry, after a few moments of careful movement.

I reach one hand around my wife and caress her belly as we make love.

Everything is going swimmingly until my daughter decides she’s had enough of this shit for one night and delivers a karate kick to Laura’s abdomen that Steven Seagal would have been proud of.

‘Oow!’ Laura shrieks and bucks her hips.

My position on the bed is already precarious thanks to the way she’s lying and having her thrust herself backwards turns precarious into untenable.

‘Fuck a duck!’ I wail and fall off the bed.

In an effort to prevent injury to my still erect penis I twist in midair like a champion diver so that little Jamie is pointing skywards. Unfortunately this means that my back is the first part of my anatomy to come in contact with the carpet.

The air is driven from my lungs, winding me painfully.

Meanwhile, back on the bed, Laura has rolled onto her back to settle the baby down. She does this a little too quickly and tweaks her already complaining spine.

‘Oww!’ she cries with a sharp intake of breath.

‘Damn it!’ I shout in pain, one hand going to my own back.

There we both lie, writhing in respective agony, one on the bed, one on the floor. It’s like the worst advert for Nurofen you’ve ever seen in your life. Looking down from above, we could be partners in a very strange synchronised dance competition for sado-masochists.

‘Are you okay honey?’ Laura asks.

‘I think I’ve done my back in.’

‘Let me have a look,’ she says with concern, and begins to roll towards the edge of the bed.

Looking up, the first thing I see appearing from the bed covers above my head is the looming bulge of our unborn child. It’s like watching a pink sun come up, only sideways. Laura’s face comes into view shortly afterwards, a strained expression writ large across it.

‘Can you move?’ she enquires, voice somewhat muffled by the duvet.

‘I don’t know,’ I respond, still wincing as I rub the small of my back.

‘Let me try and help you,’ she suggests and moves even closer to the edge of the bed.

I realise this already disastrous evening could get a lot worse in very short order if Laura loses her balance right now.

Concern for my own well being is paramount, but even that is trumped by my concern for the baby if Laura falls off the bed, drops the intervening two feet between us, and pins me like Big Daddy.

My arms go out.

One grasps Laura’s belly to steady it, the other flies in the direction of her head - the only other part of her anatomy I can see.

I’m sure she appreciates me stopping her tipping over, but her gratitude is lost in the screech of distress that arises due to the thumb I’ve just stuck in her eye.

‘Christ Jamie!’

‘Sorry! I was trying to stop you falling!’ I jump to my feet in concern for her welfare.

If this didn’t already look like a Three Stooges routine minus Curly, it certainly resembles one when I stub my toe on the side of the bed in a hasty effort to provide first aid to my partially blinded wife.

I sit down with a sharp hiss of agony, one hand still on my back, the other now grabbing my throbbing toe.

Likewise, Laura has a hand on her back, while the other is now covering her left eye.

Episodes of Casualty have gone by with less injury than this aborted sex session in the Newman household.

Inexplicably, my penis still thinks it’s party time and is standing proud awaiting further instructions. I look at Laura for a moment thrashing around next to me and decide she’s probably not in the mood anymore.

Still, I’m probably going to be laid up with a bad back for the next few days, so I’ll have plenty of time to wank myself into a stupour, won’t I?

‘I’m sorry honey,’ I lean over and say. Laura removes her hand from her eye tentatively, as if she’s not completely sure I’m not going to smack her around the head with the table lamp.

‘Why did you poke me in the bloody eye?’

‘Why did you throw me off the bed?’

‘I didn’t. The baby kicked. You know how I react sometimes when she does it.’ She looks at my toe. ‘What did you do?’

‘Stubbed it on the bed.’

Laura actually gives me a look of sympathy, which once again reinforces my opinion that she really must love me. How else could someone brush off being assaulted with a thumb while naked and pregnant?

Laura looks down at little Jamie, who still doesn’t know when he’s done for the night. ‘You’re still hard after all that? Blimey.’

I shrug my shoulders. ‘What can I say? You do it for me even with mild spinal injuries.’

With one eye still twitching and weeping copiously, Laura pats the bed next to her. ‘Lie down sexy. Let’s see if I can still do something about that.’

Her twitching, watery eye is a bit disconcerting. I feel like I’m being seduced by a stroke victim.

I’ve become very adept at brushing off these disturbing thoughts recently though, so I position myself accordingly and await further developments.

The relief on my aching back is fantastic, and I would have quite happily settled for that, but Laura props herself up on her knees and starts to give me a very sloppy – and therefore amazing – blow job.

I don’t last very long and am arriving at my destination quite aggressively in no time at all.

So aggressively in fact that some of it spurts into Laura’s good eye, successfully blinding her for the second time in as many minutes.

The shock of semen shooting straight into the only good ocular device she has left at her disposal causes her hand to clench involuntarily, thus squeezing the life out of little Jamie while he’s still on the warm down lap.

…and thus, the evening of calamity is brought to a close.

I now have a throbbing cock, toe and back - and Laura will have bloodshot eyes for a fortnight.

Honest to God, it’ll be a miracle if this baby doesn’t come flying out of the womb, head butt the doctor, slide right off the table and concuss herself on the nearest wastepaper basket…

Laura’s Diary

Monday, December 2nd

Dear Mum,

Well, this is THE diary entry. The one you and I have been waiting on for the past nine months.

I’m writing this from my hospital bed.

Luckily, I’m on my own in the room right now. There are no other new mothers with me, so everything is blissfully peaceful.

It’s eleven in the morning, and as I look out of the window I can see a crisp winter’s day that makes the usually drab hospital grounds sparkle with frost. Clean, bright sunshine bathes the trees and grass with its weak December warmth.

I can also see a couple of the hospital’s patients taking constitutional walks. One has a cigarette dangling from his mouth in an act of addictive rebellion that I’m sure is doing him no favours with the nurses.

You’ll note that I’m writing in a more whimsical fashion than usual.

This may be down to the glow of new motherhood – but it could equally be due to the pain killers I’ve had pumped into my system to keep the ache in my undercarriage down to a dull throb.