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Married friends continue their exploration of each other.

Her heartbeat flutters at the base of her throat. Her earlier sass and playfulness are gone, discarded like pretty, sparkly masks after a ball, revealing naked human beauty underneath.

"I love you, babygirl."

She melts. Her lips open and her knees spread wider, and I sink my cock into her, engulfing myself in her wet heat. I stay there, feeling her inner walls tighten exquisitely around me, fighting the all-consuming need to thrust by grinding slowly against her, while my lips and tongue mesh with hers for a wild, deep, demanding kiss. Sandra reciprocates with equal urgency, until finally we break for a much-needed breath, panting hard. Her eyes catch and hold mine.

"I love you, too."

Her words send little firecrackers sizzling down my spine. Unable to resist any longer I start moving deep inside her, wanting to savor every sensation but unable to hold back my overwhelming need anymore. I bottom out with every stroke, and she arches up under me, moaning and then calling out in sweet agony whenever the swollen head of my dick bumps against her cervix. Her reaction fuels my own excitement and I fuck her harder, rejoicing in the way her fingers tighten between mine, her short nails biting into the back of my hand with each hard thrust - God, so deep... Fuck...!

A sudden thought strikes me and I freeze, though the effort to do so leaves me visibly shaking.

"Sandra, baby, Is it... "

"Safe?" she asks breathlessly, and tries to smile, but her face is tight with her own need. "Yes. It is. Absolutely. Don't stop, please!"

"Thank God," I reply, surge deep into her once more, shuddering as her walls tighten and squeeze around me, then pull back only to thrust deeply again. And again. And again.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she agrees enthusiastically, and I laugh out loud; and then all rational thought melts as I lose myself in her.




Tuesday at Dr. Pappas, I wait impatiently for my appointment to start. With every day that passes I am more certain of what I want. I want Sandra, and I want our baby; I want us to be a family.

We haven't talked more about the decision looming on the horizon; not yet. We spent the rest of the weekend in bed, firmly focused on the present and keeping any thoughts of the future resolutely out of our minds. Then Monday came with a vengeance, Sandra's hectic work and school schedule making it even easier to avoid. Unspoken between us was the understanding that I needed to talk with Dr. Pappas and gain his perspective before we face the topic again.

I am anxious. Shit, I'm downright scared. What if he says I can't do it? What if he says it's too big of a risk for me to become a father right now? Fuck, what if it's too big of a risk for me NOT to? If Sandra had an abortion, given my reaction to the idea... what if she did and I snapped again?!

Feeling my throat constrict, hearing the rush of blood in my ears, I lean low over my knees, cup my hands over my mouth and nose, and focus solely on exhaling, making sure to empty my lungs all the way before drawing in my next shaky breath.

"Dan, you okay?"

Fuck. My head shoots up to meet the good doctor's narrowed light-blue eyes, scrutinizing me over the rim of his small oval glasses. I was so deep inside my head I hadn't noticed the previous patient leaving the room, nor Dr. Pappas' soft-spoken invite to 'come in, please'.

I realize I am panting, still bent over in my seat, although my eyes are locked with the shrink's.

"Anxiety?" he asks matter-of-factly, and I curse under my breath before pushing up to stand before him.

"Yeah. Big time." I admit. Thankfully my heart rate had already slowed enough to stop the shaking, and my voice comes out almost normal.

He smiles, unfazed. "Well, you've come to the right place then, Dan. Step into my office please."


We sit down in our respective chairs, and Dr.

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