Read Seventy-Two Hours Online

Authors: C. P. Stringham

Seventy-Two Hours (14 page)

“Will you stay here with me?” he asked as I
shook the blanket out before placing it over him.

“It wouldn’t be a good idea, Chris. You
aren’t yourself.”

“Do you know how much I hate you right now?”
he asked with more hurt than anger in his voice.

“Not enough to prevent you from begging me to
give you a blow job two minutes ago,” I said snidely.

“Did you give one to Steve Graves?”

It was time for me to leave his room. “Good
night, Chris.”

“I bet you did and that’s why he won’t take
no for an answer. You’re really good at it you know. I may not have ever told
you that, but you are. It’s mind-blowing. So much better than Sela was,” he
told me as if brimming with spousal pride. “She kept getting me with her
teeth.”

Failing marriage or not, I didn’t think it
was possible to feel any worse, but my heart felt like it was being crushed in
a vice while my stomach flipped. I was instantly nauseous. It was silly experiencing
the flash of anger, jealousy, and betrayal that went through me in light of
what I’d done. I was the one that had the affair and wanted to walk away from
married life. I wasn’t supposed to care anymore. But I did.

I knew who he was talking about. She was his
roommate’s angelic, blonde girlfriend during graduate school. I’d met her
several times and never once got the feeling something was going on between her
and Chris. Apparently something did. Was it before or after we were married?

While my thoughts were going around in a
circle, Chris talked on with, “But you know I’ve always loved your tits. And
your ass. I love it when you wear sweatpants. A pair that forms to you just
right. It gives me an instant hard-on when I’m walking behind you and can see
your ass shaking. Makes me want to bend you over at that moment and fuck the
hell out of you.”

“Did you want to do the same thing with
Sela?” I asked spitefully.

But the scorn was lost on him because he
answered, “Hell no. She wanted me to, but I wouldn’t. She used to walk around
the apartment half naked when John was there. She knew what she was doing.
She’d give me this look behind his back. One time, I got home late and, God, I
turned the light on in my room and she was there in my bed. Told me how horny
she was and that John had passed out and couldn’t finish her off,” he explained
in a rush of speech. “Asked me to do it for her. I told her to go back to
John ‘cuz I wasn’t interested.” He was having a hard time staying focused. “And
I wasn’t interested. I had you. I loved you so much. But then she started
playing with herself in front of me,” Chris said on a loud sigh. “I’m a normal
guy, babe. I watched her and I liked it. Was like having a real life porn
movie happening in front of me. The next thing I know, she’s got my dick in
her mouth.”

“How could you turn that down, right? I’m
sure it made it easier for you to finish her off then.”

“No. I never fucked her, babe.”

“Just her mouth.”

Chris yawned loudly. “It’s not the same.”

“Did you come in her mouth?” He moaned what
I translated to be a positive admission. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut.
“Yea, that’s not the same,” I said to no one in particular since I could hear
him beginning to snore.

Chapter Fourteen

November 2, 1991 – East Smithfield, PA

I had to be the most fertile woman on the
planet. Plain and simple. No sense going through a denial phase. No reason to
panic. It wasn’t like the first time. Chris and I were married now. I was an
adult woman and happily married (for the most part.) It would be different this
time. What happened last time couldn’t, well most likely, wouldn’t happen
again.

I blamed myself for the pregnancy this time.
I should have insisted we use condoms while we were in New York, but I didn’t.
It was as if we were making up for lost time while we were in the city that
never sleeps. By the time we checked out of our room on Sunday morning, Chris
and I had managed to try every sexual position known between a man and a woman
at least twice. We ordered room service when we were absolutely starved and
didn’t step outside the door of our room until it was time to leave. Birth
control was the last thing to enter my mind. All I knew was I wanted my
husband to have me every way possible and he did. The weekend left me
completely satisfied and thoroughly used in a good way.

Chris had just arrived home for the weekend.
He was upstairs showering while I finished making our dinner. My parents were
at a Halloween party so we had the house to ourselves for once. I appreciated
my parent’s generosity by inviting us to live with them, but it was growing
old. As soon as Chris was going at his job, we were planning on getting an
apartment. It would be nice to have something we could call our own.

I made a Porterhouse steak for Chris with a
baked potato and salad. He was a typical meat and potatoes man. I was only having
salad. The mystery surrounding my sudden aversion to all things meat was
explained by my positive pregnancy test. I learned from my first time that
when it came to food, anything could happen. Brand new likes, dislikes, and having
my entire digestive tract revolting at inopportune moments was the norm.

I set places for us in the dining room
complete with linen tablecloth and two taper candles. I figured I’d dazzle his
taste buds and set the mood with romance before I delivered the news about our
pending bundle of joy.

“So,” he said as he made his way into the
kitchen where I was tossing the salad, “Your parents are gone?”

I continued working. “Yep. Just you and
me,” I said when his arms circled around my waist from the back as he brought
me up against his solid form.

“Do you remember what we did the last time we
were alone together?” he asked as his hands began a slow journey up over my
abdomen before stopping at my breasts.

He was referring to New York. “I do.”

“I think I’ve finally regained all of my
strength back from that weekend,” he said as he moved my hair aside so he could
nibble the nape of my neck. “You were a wild woman. I could barely keep up
with you.”

“You hid your exhaustion well,” I quipped.

“Do you think dinner could wait a little?”

I set my utensils down and turned in his
embrace. “Christopher, as tempting as that sounds, your dinner is done. Your
steak won’t taste as good reheated. Besides that, I’m starving.” And I was.

He took my chin and tipped my head back. His
lips met mine with the lightest of pressure before he took my bottom lip and
began to gently suck on it as his tongue flicked tantalizingly over it. I was
determined to remain strong. Strong. That was the plan even as his hands slid
down over my bottom and he pressed his hardness against me.

When he stopped kissing me, he traced his
lips along my jaw line and then stopped at my ear. “Did that kiss remind you
of what else I did with my mouth when we were alone together?”

“Eep!” I squeaked out as my cheeks flamed and
my neither region woke up at full attention.

His tongue invaded my ear with swift,
deliberate swipes. His breath hot. “Oh, Jen, the things I could do.”

I shook it off. I pushed against his chest
until he stopped. “Dinner first,” I said sternly as I straightened my apron
and fixed my hair. Somehow, I couldn’t recall June Cleaver ever having to
fight off Ward in such a way.

He picked up a piece of tomato and popped it
in his mouth. He licked his finger provocatively and winked at me. “Fine,” he
said while chewing, “but we’re skipping dessert. I have other plans.”

His mood would change after we had a chance
to talk I thought as I handed him a plate. I fixed a plate of salad for myself
as he slit open his steaming baked potato and began loading it up with butter,
salt, pepper, shredded cheddar cheese, and finally topped it with a big dollop
of sour cream.

“Aren’t you having steak and baked potato?”
he asked as we walked to the dining room together.

“Just salad,” I replied as I took the seat
that shared a corner with his.

After he sat, he sighed heavily. “Jen, are
you dieting or something?”

“What?” I asked as I drizzled a liberal
amount of ranch dressing around the mounded plate of mixed lettuce and sliced
carrots, tomatoes, onions, and cucumber. “No.”

He reached over, taking my hand, and said, “Good,
because you’re still too skinny. I like you with more meat on your bones.”

“How much more meat?” I asked while
remembering how big I was by my eighth month the last time.

His brows came together as if caught in deep
thought. “I don’t know. A little more. The way you are now, I’m afraid I’m
going to break you when you get all wild like you do.”

“I see. You don’t want to break me.”

“Nope. A little more meat will give me a
little more cushion for the pushing.”

I choked on my water. He got up and came
around to pat me on my back. I waved him off for fear he’d try the Heimlich.
“I’m good. Thanks. Just water that went down the wrong pipe.”

“You need to be more careful, babe.”

“I’ll try and do that.”

Chris started talking about school. A
subject he enjoyed. Theoretical Methods and Solid State Science weren’t really
to my liking, but listening to him go on about what they were doing in the lab
and how what he was learning was cutting edge technology made me hang on his
every word. He couldn’t wait to start working for the local glass
manufacturing company after graduation. He’d been wise to get his foot in the
door by volunteering internships during his first two summer breaks. Chris was
always planning ahead that way. I knew he would always be a good provider. An
attribute my mother said was highly important in a good marriage.

I’d finished my plate of salad. Except for
the croutons. I saved the best for last. Chris pushed his plate away,
thanking me for a great homecoming dinner. It made me smile with pride. I
loved how easily we slipped into our “old married couple” routine as if our
weeks weren’t spent apart. We’d been together for seven years at that point.
A long time. We knew each other so completely. It made me very contented with
my life. There was only one thing I wished I could change. It was something
no one could change. However, it didn’t keep me from wishing I could.

We carried our dishes to the kitchen, loading
the dishwasher, and then hand-washing the pans used to prepare dinner. I
washed and he dried. The task was done in no time.

Chris looked at the clock and asked, “What
time did your folks say they’d be home?”

I draped the dishcloth over the sink divider
to dry. “They’ll be at least another hour or so. Mom and Dad like Dewey and
Maureen a lot and then all the kids from church will be there, too. They may
be even later.”

He reached out for my hand and began leading
me out of the kitchen. “We shouldn’t waste any time just in case they leave
early.”

“Chris, we’re both adults and we’re married.
We don’t need to sneak around.”

“Yea, I get that, but your dad still gives me
that look,” he called over his shoulder. “You know the one. It conveys, ‘I
know you’re violating my daughter,’ look.”

We were on the second floor landing when I
said, “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay. Talk,” he encouraged as we entered
our room and he turned to close and lock the door.

“It’s actually pretty important.”

He waved me on to continue as he reached out
and began unbuttoning my shirt. “I can listen and work at the same time. I’m
a great multi-tasker.”

I grabbed both of his hands to keep them
still as I met his eyes. “This is serious, Christopher. I need your full
attention.”

He stopped and gave me a troubled look.
“Something’s wrong. What is it?”

I dropped my gaze to the floor. “I’m, um,
pregnant. Again.”

“What?!?”

I met his penetrating eyes and explained,
“After my follow-up appointment, Dr. Calder gave me a new prescription for
birth control pills. Only I didn’t get it filled. We weren’t having sex
anyway so it didn’t really matter. And then we went to New York. I should
have said something to you. Told you to pick up condoms or something, but I
didn’t. My mind wasn’t really on sex leading up to our trip.” I took a deep
breath because I was rambling. “But then we did have sex and, boy, once we got
started, we couldn’t seem to stop, could we? So, yes, I’m pregnant,” I ended
it with a nervous giggle.

“You’re sure?”

I still couldn’t read his expression. “I,
ah, took a test yesterday morning.”

“But you haven’t gone to the doctor’s?”

“Well, no, but I’ve been through this before,
Chris. I know my body,” I told him rather stiffly.

I yelped when he grabbed me up and spun
around with me. “Oh, babe, I’m so happy,” he said as his cheek rested against
mine. “This is what we needed.”

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