Page 48 of Hard Wood Daddy

But now, with the late afternoon sun streaming through the window, I’m sitting alone in the bathroom looking at a pregnancy test that Lindsay had to run into town to buy for me.

It has two pink lines in the window. According to the instructions (which I’ve read six times in a row), that means I’m knocked up.

I must have gotten pregnant from the first time we fucked, or close enough to it.

I’m not surprised, honestly.

Call me crazy, but I swear that I felt his sperm colonizing my uterus. I bet his sperm are huge and forceful just like him. They probably treated my egg like little battering rams and slammed it straight into my uterus where it could grow.

Rutger and I are going to have a family.

“You’re gonna be a big sissy,” I tell Frida, tickling her belly.

Rutger comes home only a few minutes later, holding a bag and grinning. “They gave me stuff,” he says proudly. He sets it on the back of the couch and starts pulling things out one at a time to show me, like he’s a kid home from school showing me everything he did. “Pastels. Charcoal. A bunch of newsprint. Lindsay says I can come to classes any time.”

“That’s amazing,” I say.

Something in my voice or face gives me away.

Rutger kneels before me, cupping my hand in his cheek. “What’s wrong?” he asks. There’s an alluring thread of danger to the question.

He’s ready to fight the entire world for me.

“Nothing is wrong. In fact…it’s totally the opposite.” I take out the test and show it to him.

At first, he looks confused.

I point to the instructions on the box. “This says that one line means not pregnant,” I say. “But two lines mean—”

I don’t get to finish.

He silently picks me up and holds me tightly. The rumbling in his chest is almost like a lion purring. After a minute, I realize he’s saying, “My babies, my babies.” He crushes me close, and I crush him close, and we rock together, savoring the moment.

Rutger kisses me deeply, tongue plunging into my mouth to lay claim to every corner of it. He bundles my hair in his hands. He guides my head to the angles he wants, leaving me helpless to his love.

When he finally pulls away, his eyes are bright with emotion.

“Thank you,” he says.

“You stole my words,” I say, pushing him back to sit on the couch. I fit myself on top of his lap with my thighs to either side of his. I’m still not used to the sensation of his massive erection pressed up against my cunt.

His huge hands wander up the insides of my thighs. “No panties,” he says, curving his hands around my bare ass cheeks. “Good.” He pulls my ass apart, squeezes me closer to him.

I kiss him again, even longer than before. We lose ourselves in the kiss. We rock gently against each other, slowly building friction. His fingers occasionally travel between my lips. He teases at my slit, feeling the spread of my wetness as his touch drives my arousal higher and higher.

“I keep thinking about this,” he says, his fingertip dipping into my asshole. He’s wet with my pussy’s juices so it slides easily.

He’s in my ass.

It’s such an unexpected sensation—but not a bad one.

“We can do that,” I say, heart speeding. I’ve been thinking about it, too. With my butt always up in the air, I’ve become real familiar with the feeling of a cool breeze on my puckeredasshole. “We have to be careful. We need a lot of lube. You have to go slowly. But—we can do that.”

“Do you want it?” He circles that delicate flesh with the pad of his finger.

“Yes.” I can’t speak above a whisper.

Rutger gets a dark, mischievous smile. “Then you’re going to have to beg for it.” He gets the cooking oil, then pulls me onto him again.

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