Taking the Fall (1-4)

“Don’t get me wrong, Cherry, I love seeing you here, but what in the ever loving fuck are you wearing right now?”

Looking down at my outfit, I have no clue what he is talking about. I have on black yoga pants, a sports bra with a pink baby tee on over it and sneakers. I still have a few pounds I would like to drop since the baby got here, so it’s not like I’m running around in skimpy workout clothes or something. I feel like this I’m a lot more covered than what I’ve seen other women work out in. Not that other women work out here. This is mainly an all-male gym because Carter says women distract the men, which is clearly true for him with me.

“Yoga pants?” I say, more as a question than an answer, not understanding what could possibly be wrong with my clothes.

“That what you call these things? It’s like a second skin.” He pushes me back so I fall flat against his desk. He reaches under my ass and pulls them off, taking my underwear and shoes with them.

“Yeah, naked is clearly better,” I say, wanting it to come out snappy but it comes out all breathy. My legs fall even farther apart, giving Carter an even better view of my pussy.

“You don’t show off my shit to other men, Cherry. Now I gotta remind you who you belong to…or is that what you wanted? To come to the gym and get a rise out of me so I would give you a good fucking? Am I not giving you enough, Cherry? You need more cock, baby?” he asks. He grabs my thighs and pulls me to the edge of the desk.

Carter is only wearing basketball shorts and I can clearly see the bulge of his cock through them. Reaching inside them, he gives a little tug and his cock springs free. Then he’s on me, caging me in, his chest to mine. Before I can respond his hand is over my mouth, his lips next to my ear, his cock dragging against my clit. I feel my pussy contract, jealous of the attention my clit is getting from his cock. I moan into his hand.

“You’re going to be a good girl and take my cock. I’m going to fuck you so hard the desk is going to pound against the wall. Everyone out in that gym is going to know I’m fucking my woman in here, but you don’t make a fucking peep while I do it. You got that, Cherry? They don’t get to hear your passion.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. I feel his other hand reach down between us, guiding his cock into me, then he thrusts to the hilt in one long hard motion. God, I love when he gets possessive of me. What could make a woman feel more beautiful than having a man who thinks you’re so perfect that everyone must want you like he does. Closing my eyes tightly to try to stop myself from moaning, I make a mental note to buy more yoga pants.

Approximately 5 years later

“I can’t believe you did this to me again,” I whisper up at the white ceiling.

“Cherry, baby, I can’t help it. You make the most beautiful babies, but I promise this is the last time. I can’t do this labor shit anymore,” he says, kneeling next to the table. Turning my head so we are eye-to-eye, I give him a death glare that gets me a half-smile. He’s always nervous when it’s time for me to give birth, but this will be the last time.

All my babies have been C-sections. My little body can’t seem to push Carter-size boys out of it on its own. We’ve had two boys already, and now we’re about to have two more. I told him one more baby, one more. What does Carter do? He shows me by knocking me up with twins – boys. I only agreed on the third pregnancy because I wanted my little girl, but now here I am about to bring two more boys into this world. I don’t know what I’m going to do with all this testosterone that will be running around our house now.

“We already agreed this was the last, Carter.”

Leaning in, he kisses me on my cheek. “I know, baby.”

“This is so unfair! I mean, Jeanette has had two girls. Two! And I bet the one she’s got in there now is a girl too. I just know it.” I pout and resume glaring at Carter as if he really can control the sex of our babies. The doctor told us with each pregnancy being a boy, the odds actually go down for ever getting a girl. When I heard that statistic I knew I was done trying. I’ll just be stuck in a house with men for the rest of my life. Little C is only four and he already growls like his father.

“All right, Layla, we’re going to start now. In just a few moments your babies will be here,” I hear the doctor say but I keep my eyes on Carter. Even though we’ve done this twice before I know he’s on edge. He always is when it comes to the kids and me.

“We still going with Michael and Samuel for the boys’ names?” I ask, trying to get his mind working on something else while the doctor works.

“It’s perfect, baby, just perfect. You gave me these babies. You can name them anything you want and I would love it.”

A cry breaks out into the room and makes a tear slip down my cheek

“Baby boy number one is here,” the doctor announces.

Carter smiles bigger and kisses the tear that slipped out.

“It’s for the best, baby. Could you imagine a little girl running around our house already having me and two big brothers? Might as well send her to a convent.”

I can’t help but snort at that. No, I’m not sure how a little girl would have worked out with us but I think she would have had everyone wrapped around her finger.