“I think we should celebrate this momentous occasion by me sticking my penis in you,” he says with a smile.
“You’re lucky you gave me jewelry today or I might have punched you for that.”
Carter pulls me closer and brings his lips to mine. Just like always, his kisses make me forget about everything. The softness of his lips and the smooth glide of his tongue against mine remind me of just how long it has been since we've had sex. With our crazy schedules and my attitude problem, it's been a while and I am more than starved for him. His arms wrap around me and his hands slide down to my ass, cupping it and pulling me in against his hardness. I shift my hips against him and let out a groan.
“Wait, hold on. Shit,” he mutters, breaking off the kiss.
I pull my head back and shoot him a questioning look.’
“What? What’s wrong?”
Is his penis broken? Oh dear God please don’t let it be broken. I NEED IT TO LIVE.
“I have to pee. Hold that thought,” he says, pulling out of my arms and scrambling off of the bed.
I roll over onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. A few minutes later I still hadn’t heard the toilet flush.
“Hey, are you okay in there?” I yell.
“SHHHHHHH! NO TALKING!” he yells back.
What the fuck?
“What do you mean no talking? What the hell is going on?”
I hear a few expletives coming from the bathroom, and I raise myself up on my elbows so I can look at the closed bathroom door.
“I can’t pee!” he finally yells back.
“What do you mean you can’t pee?”
Holy shit, it really IS broken. I knew I should have used it more these past few months. Son of a bitch! It broke from non-use.
“Seriously, you need to stop talking. You’re making it worse.”
“What the hell are you talking about? How am I making it worse?” I argue.
The door to the bathroom finally opens and he stands there with his hands on his hips and a tent in the front of his boxers.
“Because, your voice turns me on and I can’t get rid of my fucking boner! I would never say this to you under normal circumstances but this is an emergency. So shut the hell up for a minute so I can pee!”
With that he goes back in the bathroom and slams the door closed behind him.
Well, at least it still works.
~
“Oh it was awesome once we got past Carter’s freak out,” I tell Liz the next day on the phone. “He was convinced the baby could see his penis and would either get jealous or have nightmares for the rest of its life about a penis monster trying to eat its face. Then he wanted to try and find a condom because he though his sperm might drown the baby. I actually had to bring my laptop into bed and show him that his penis would need to be two feet long for it to get anywhere near the baby.”
Carter is working the day shift today and I'm spending the late afternoon taking down wallpaper in the room that will eventually be the nursery. I’d been at it for a few hours and was exhausted. I had taken a break to call Liz and report to her about how the rest of our evening went. Since she had constantly berated me the last few months about how often we WEREN’T having sex, I felt she deserved an update. After a few minutes we end the call and I decide to take a trip up to the local corner store to get one of my current pregnancy cravings: a black cherry slush. So far I’ve had one every single day since the day I found out. They are delicious and refreshing and the only place that sells the black cherry ones is the place right around the corner from our house.
I pack Gavin in the car and head down the street. Once inside the store, I make a beeline for the slush machine in the back, dragging Gavin along with me. I get to the machine and stopped in my tracks, staring at the sign that's taped to the front.
“Out of order? What do you mean, out of order?” I say out loud.
“It means it don’t work,” Gavin says.
“I know that’s what it means. But it’s a slush machine. It turns water into ice and you add cherry syrup to it. How hard can it be for a machine to do that?”
I see that the machine is still plugged in so I let go of Gavin’s hand, grab onto it, and start jiggling it back and forth.
The power light doesn’t come on so I start pressing all of the buttons over and over. When that doesn’t work, I start smacking the side of the machine with the palm of my hand.
“Mom, you’re gonna break it,” Gavin warns.
“Stupid piece of shit machine. All you have to do is make ice you worthless pile of horse shit!” I say to it, completely ignoring Gavin.
Oh my God I need this slush. I need it like I need air to breathe. Why the fuck won’t it just work!
At this point I'm pretty sure my brain has left my body. I continue to physically assault the machine, hitting it with my fists and cursing at it like it's a person who can fight back.