The Baby Maker’s Club

“Fuck, your pussy feels good around my cock,” he says. His words shiver through me, turning me on even more.

I ride him hard and fast. I hold onto the headboard and lean down toward him. He catches my nipple in his mouth and sucks. My hair has fallen in his face, but I can still see his eyes, and he’s staring up at me. As I ride him, we hold this connection, and I can’t remember ever feeling this close, this connected, to a man before. He reaches up and laces his fingers through my hair, pulling my face even closer to his, so that we share breath, and I can hear his grunts of exertion and satisfaction.

The intensity increases until it’s too much for Chaucer, and he takes over. He flips me over, his cock never leaving my pussy. He hooks my leg over his shoulder and starts fucking me. Fast. My body quivers with the first signs of orgasm. My moans become louder, my body shaking as the sensation tears me apart. As soon as it happens, I can’t move, I can only feel. Chaucer does the rest for me, holding on to my hips and fucking into me. He explodes inside of me just as the peak of my climax hits and we let out a chorus of sounds that come along with our release.

As soon as my orgasm passes, he slumps down onto me. He remains inside of me while we catch our breath. Even mostly limp, I can still feel his size taking up space in me. I love the way it feels, how warm he is.

I peck lazy kisses onto his neck while he runs his fingers through my hair. Our bodies rise and fall with our breath, and I feel perfectly content. This time was even better than the last, which seems impossible. I feel every inch of my body pressed against his and I don’t want anything to break this spell.

As our breathing returns to normal, he rolls off of me. He turns on his side and props his head up with his hand to look at me. I’m naked and exposed, and even though we’re no longer in the throes of passion, I’m not self-conscious with him looking at me. I feel beautiful in his presence. The way he looks at me makes me feel like the only woman in the world. I know I’m not supposed to fall for him; it’s not allowed. But I can’t help the warmth that spreads through me when I’m with him. This is a man I could love. If I’d have met him on a blind date, or at a bar, this would all be different, but my feelings would be the same. I don’t know for sure if it’s the same for him, but I think it is. People don’t have sex the way we do and not feel something more. A deeper connection. A man doesn’t look at a woman the way he looks at me and not feel something.

Right now, he could just leave. He could walk away when the deed is done, but he doesn’t. He stays. That’s more than I can say about some of the men I’ve been with in the past.

I roll on my side and we face each other. He reaches out and runs his fingers along the curve of my hip. “I still can’t believe a beautiful woman like you is in a club like this. I’m surprised you don’t have men lining up at your door trying to claim you as their own,” he says.

I touch his arm, tracing the muscles the way he’s tracing my hip. We lie together exploring each other with fingertips, studying each other’s faces and taking our time. It feels so good and so natural that it pains me to think we can’t always have this. There’s an expiration date on this happiness, but I try to push that thought aside, and enjoy the time we have together.

“It wasn’t in the cards for me, I guess. I date a lot of toads. Unfortunately, none of them turned to princes.”

“If those men can’t see how incredible you are, you’re better off without them. Sometimes I think women do better without a man anyway. My dad was loser. He just dropped out of the picture and left the burden on my mom. She’s amazing. I have a lot of respect for women who go it alone. But if a woman wants to be with a man, she deserves a man who respects her.”

I stare at him, taken aback by such a personal revelation. I’m surprised he would talk about his life outside of the clinic walls. Isn’t that against the rules? Regardless of the rules, I’m glad he’s sharing these things with me. Knowing how much respect he has for single moms makes me feel even closer to him. It shows the kind of man he is and makes me feel even more confused about the feelings I’m developing for him. It figures I’d fall for the one man who isn’t available. This really sucks.