Page 39 of The Facilitator: Part 3
“I’m so fucking horny, it’s making me mad,” she whispered.
I chuckled and kissed her neck. “Well, you only have to ask,” I said. I turned her around and kissed her eyes of her tears.
“Oh, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said and then chuckled. “I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I got the easy part in this, what you’ve got to go through makes me in awe of you. If fucking you on demand whenever you want is my punishment for putting you through this, punish away,” I said, unbuttoning her shirt.
She pulled her shirt off her body so hard, the cuff buttons popped off and clattered to the floor. She didn’t get much farther than that. I grabbed her wrists and pushed her against the back of the sofa, bending her body over it. I wrenched her skirt to her hips and tore a hole through her lace panties. Before she had a chance to take a breath, I was inside with not just my cock but my fingers as well.
“Oh God, yes, more, Mackenzie,” she shouted.
She demanded more by shoving her ass back at me. I gave her every inch I could. I pushed in hard, taking her feet off the floor at the same time. I pounded so hard, sweat had my shirt stuck to my back, and it dripped from my forehead. She cried out loud, gripped the sofa top, and came. I continued to fuck her; I wasn’t done with her yet. I was also nowhere near my release. Although pure coincidence, I was fucking her as often asI could as if I could get her pregnant. I fought back the tear that wanted to leave my eye. I was not going to start feeling sorry for myself. No way. Instead, I took that frustration out on her, and she loved every second of it. I slapped her ass cheek; I reached down and pinched her tender clitoris. I stuck more fingers in alongside my cock, stroking her walls. When I finally came, I slumped over the top of her breathing hard.
I removed my fingers and my cock. When I placed my hand on her back, I panicked.
“Shit, Lauren, there’s blood.”
She stood and turned. She picked up my hand and looked at the pink tinge to my fingertips. “I don’t think that’s anything more than you giving me what I desperately needed. A good hard fuck,” she said, and laughed.
“You’re bleeding,” I said. My voice was a little higher, displaying my concern.
“Mackenzie, sometimes I bleed a little. If I’m still spotting after a shower, I’ll call the hospital. Now, as lovely as your cock is, it still isn’t long enough to get to where that little egg is securely lodged.” She placed her palm on my cheek and gently kissed me. “Seriously, you need to relax because you’re not helping my anxiety levels.”
“Can we just call the clinic?” I asked. She reached over the sofa for her bag and called the clinic.
“Hi, my husband is concerned because, after sex, wehave a little blood, and I mean a tinge, nothing more. Can you reassure him?” She handed the phone to me and I listened.
“Okay, thank you,” I said, handing it back to her and chuckling.
She thanked the nurse and promised to call should she still be spotting in a few hours. She then wrapped her arms around my waist. “I love you so much,” she said, raising her face for a kiss.
She started to cry again. “Fucking hormones,” she said, and I wondered if that meant she might be pregnant.
The following day I bought five pregnancy tests, making sure to get different brands in case they worked differently.
I lay awake that night irrationally checking the sheets for any spotting. If Lauren knew, I’m sure she would have been pissed but I just couldn’t help myself. I lay there for hours running names through my head and wondered, if it were a boy, whether she’d object to Mackenzie. I’d love for there to be a third.
I couldn’t breathe for two weeks. I walked around with a fake smile on my face, when inside I was counting down the seconds before she should do a test. One million, two hundred and nine thousand, and six hundred seconds later, she did a test.
It was negative.
She held the stick for an age just staring at it. A lone tear ran down her cheek and she brushed it away. “That’s probably to be expected, Mackenzie,” she said. I smiled and nodded. I kissed her lips and then I walked downstairs mumbling about getting some breakfast.
I stood outside in the garden with my coffee and had I not been surrounded by houses, I would have screamed out the curse words that littered my brain, the anguish I felt inside was so tightly contained but bursting to come out. My jaw ached because I held it so tight.
Lauren appeared dressed for work.
“Are you going in?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes. Mackenzie, we have to get on with our lives around this. You have to. We were prepared for failure,” she said.
I wasn’t, I thought. I nodded and smiled. “Let me make you a tea,” I said, more because I wanted something to do.
Lauren called the clinic with the results and an appointment was made, they wanted to do a blood test, just to double-check and my heart lifted. Maybe it was a mistake.
Sadly, the blood test just confirmed the stick. More appointments were made, another date set for implanting the next eggs.
As the weeks wore on, I became more animated andLauren became more anxious. I did all I could to inject some optimism into her. She told me over and over that she wasn’t anxious about whether the IVF would work or not, but more about my crash when it didn’t. I brushed that off, laughing that she was being silly and I loved her and I could cope with anything as long as we were a team.
