“But I don’t wanna go! I want to play with Maribel! I don’t want to sit in the doctor’s office. I want to go home and play with Maribel!”
“Kimi-Sue, stop it!” Mommy snaps and that whiny little bitch of a sister shuts her trap. The little prick quiets down too. Way to go, Mommy! Now maybe I can finish up my nap. I was having a nice dream about pooping and puking, too. I hope they shut up so I can get back to it.
Yawwwwn. Big stretch.
What is it this time? Can’t an embryo get some rest around here! Fuckin’ aye!
Okay, well I don’t hear those bratty kids, thank freakin’ heavens. But something ain’t right in my world. What is Mommy up to now?
“Dr. Kurtsworth, I think I’m pregnant.”
“Really? Why would you think that?”
“I took a test. Several of them. And they all came out positive. I can’t understand it. It just can’t be!”
“You took a test.”
“Yes. Several.”
“Then you’re pregnant.”
Duh! You sure are a genius, doc. How many years of medical school did it take to figure that one out? I love the way this guy talks. Real slow and deliberate. Each word is laboured over as if he’s out of breath or just thinking real hard or something.
“Are you sure, Dr. Kurtsworth?”
“Of course.”
This doc is a trip. How much does he bill for this? No wonder the healthcare system is broke.
“But how can you be so sure?”
“You will never get a false positive with those tests. Occasionally a false negative, but never a false positive. Trust me.”
“Oh, no.”
What do you mean, oh, no, Mommy?
“How can that be? I can’t be pregnant.”
“It’s unusual. Let’s check you out.” I hear some ruffling. “Here. Go in the bathroom and try this one.”
“Another test? What for?”
“Just to be sure. I’ll take some blood as well. Run a few tests.”
“Fine.”
Easy with the squatting, Mom. This is uncomfortable. What is she trying to piss me out. Don’t push so hard!
“Ouch!”
Sorry, Mom, but you started it.
“Goddammit, I can’t piss,” she moans. I feel her bouncing around, then hear the door slam. “Doctor, I just can’t seem to go.”
“It’s okay, Sue Ellen. Just relax.”
“I can’t.”
“Fine. Just go sit down and we’ll take some blood.”
“Okay.”
Ooo, I felt that.
“What am I going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I want to get rid of it.”
IT! I ain’t no it, Mommy.
“Okay, we can discuss that option.”
“No. There is no discussion. I want it taken care of. I can’t have another kid.”
“Very well, Sue Ellen. Take a few days to think it over, and by then your blood work will come back and we can formulate a plan.”
“The plan is formulated, doctor. I want this taken care of.”
“Fine. Call me in a few days when the test results come in.”
“No! Now. I want this taken care of now!”
MOMMY! Does that mean what I think it means?
“Okay, try these pills. They will cause uterine contractions so you will naturally evacuate the contents. Perhaps you won’t need more surgery.”
“Okay.”
“If they don’t work, then we’ll explore surgical options.”
“Okay.”
FOUR
She finally got the two brats and the good boy to bed, and Sue Ellen was ready for sleep herself, but she knew that wasn’t gonna happen.
“Oh, man,” she groaned as she leaned back in bed while massaging her aching feet. “What a horrible day.” Dr. Kurtsworth’s pills didn’t work. She was sure of it. She couldn’t even keep them down, much less let the medicine go to work.
Cleve walked in with just a tattered robe on. The same one he wore every single night. She bought him a new one for his birthday last year but he liked this one: once navy blue but now faded and closer to blackish/purple, ripped along the back so a hint of hairy ass crack showed, the sides had strings hanging down. It smelled funky too.
“When are you going to wear that nice robe I bought you?”
“I like this ‘un.”
“But the other one is nice.”
“But it ain’t this ‘un. This ‘un’s comfy,” he said as he reached in the back hole and scratched his butt.
Sue Ellen shook her head as she sat up in bed. He leaned over towards her with a crooked grin and put one knee up on the bed. He tried to kiss her but she turned her head to the side.
“Come on, Sue Ellen, you know I hate to waste a good evening.”
A blowjob in the morning and sex at night. It was just part of the deal with Cleve.
“Okay, let me take a bath first.”
“Well, get to it then,” he said, smacking her ass playfully as she got up to walk away.
Sue Ellen ran the bath hot, almost scalding and yet soothing as she sat down in it. She leaned back letting her legs rise out of the water in order to get as much of her midsection underwater as possible. Damn, her tummy hurt.
The last thing she wanted to do was have sex with Cleve. She was sore all over, stressed out as hell and her stomach was queasy again. But when she sat back in the bath and thought it through, the truth was, there was one thing she wanted to do even less than have Cleve’s two hundred and fifty pound hairy frame bounce on top of her for two and a half minute: and that was tell Cleve she was pregnant.
Cleve was lying in bed when Sue Ellen walked back into the bedroom. His smelly robe was in a ruffle in the middle of the floor. She hung her own robe up on a hook attached to the door, then stepped over his robe and climbed into bed. She turned off the light, then lay back.
He went to work and she turned her autopilot on and mechanically shifted and twisted along with him. He was a little rough, but nothing out of the ordinary. As he grunted, trying mightily to squeeze his cock inside her past the knot, her mind went elsewhere.
Oftentimes, while having sex with Cleve she couldn’t help but think about her father. They had a lot in common- Cleve and Daddy. They were a lot different in ways too, but she couldn’t help but notice the obvious similarities: like their age. Cleve was fully double her age, just having celebrated his forty-third birthday a few weeks back. But the more she thought about it, they were nothing alike. Cleve was more like her first boyfriend, Justin Lawrence.
Sue Ellen got to thinking about her fourteenth birthday, walking down the hall of Bartlett Junior/Senior High School, her hands cluttered with books. A loud gang of boys, each wearing blue and white football jackets, walked towards her.
“Hey, Sue Ellen!” they said as they rushed past, their voices all a blur in unison.
At the back of the pack, he stood. Justin Lawrence. Blond curly hair beautifully gelled. Chiselled cheeks and pearly white smile.
“Hey there, baby girl,” he said as he smirked and tilted his head sideward.
“Hi, pumkin pie,” she said softly.
“Pumpkin pie!” one of the boys yelled mockingly.
Sue Ellen blushed.
Justin didn’t. He yelled, “Shut up, punk!” Then he scowled at Sue Ellen and said, “I told you not to call me that.”