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stomach. How easy it was to thrust and move with the chair helping us.
    Dan’s hand moved up and down on his erection. I did love watching him. There was something singular in him jerking himself and in watching how he moved his hand to bring himself the most pleasure. He added a twist to his wrist as he stroked the head of his cock. I caught a glimpse of pre-come glistening as he stroked. He stood with his feet spread apart to anchor himself, and it was easy to imagine myself on my knees in front of him.
    I knew how he’d taste and the sound he’d make when I closed my lips over his penis. I didn’t, though. I watched him stroke himself, instead, as I brought myself closer and closer to climax.
    We could have finished that way, watching each other. But when my cunt gave its first spasm, hovering on the edge of coming, I pulled my hand away. I wanted to squirm on the chair. I wanted to push my cunt against the air, or squeeze my thighs together, keeping myself from tipping into orgasm, but only barely.
    “Dan,” I said.
    That was all it took. He crossed to me in two strides. I almost came when he pulled me to my feet. The world tipped a little as pleasure swooped over me, but I breathed deep and managed to hold it off. Dan took my place on the chair and pulled me onto his lap. I slid onto his prick, my clit against his belly, our mouths locked. I cried out, the sound lost against his lips. He fucked upward as his hands cupped my ass.
    I was already coming. My body jerked. My fingers dug into his shoulders. He thrust harder as the chair rocked. The floor squeaked. He said my name. My orgasm became all-encompassing, immense, enormous. The world. The universe. Pleasure overtook me.
    Dan yelled when he came. His final thrust lifted me up, and when we settled the chair kept rocking, though we’d stopped. He put his arms around me, tight. I felt him throb inside me as my cunt fluttered in climax. I couldn’t always feel it, and tonight it seemed especially appropriate that I could.
    I thought of him spurting inside me. Dan’s body had made sperm, small, wriggling and invisible, that even now were swimming mightily up the convulsing corridor of my vagina to seek the cavern of my womb. Would it welcome them? Had my body created an egg, waiting, even now, to be conquered? It wasn’t likely, but neither was it impossible. Many women who’d counted themselves “safe” had ended up getting pregnant.
    Dan had buried his face against my chest with a happy sigh. His hair tickled my nose. Our bodies glued together, sticky from sweat, as the chair rocked to a stop. I didn’t move, too content to bother.
    We didn’t have secrets anymore, and I was glad for that. Even so, I didn’t tell him I’d forgotten and then deliberately not taken my pill. I wasn’t sure there’d be a point in telling him we may or may not have made a baby.
    “I love you.” Dan kissed my collarbone.
    “I love you too.” So easy to say it, now.
    Easier to mean it, too.
     
    “FUCK ME WITH A BARBED-WIRE DILDO!” Marcy’s voice echoed through the tiled hall, and nobody blinked an eye. “Where the fuck is Wayne?”
    “I’ve left a message with his secretary, on his voice mail and on his cell,” I told her. “He’ll be here.”
    Marcy let out a low, guttural groan. Sweat had plastered her hair to her forehead. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and the corners of her mouth had cracked a little. She gripped my arm with fingers like talons, but I didn’t dare show a wince. I wasn’t the one getting ready to push a bowling ball out of my body.
    We’d been walking for an hour as she labored. Marcy had called me when her efforts to get in touch with her husband had failed. She’d driven herself to Harrisburg Hospital and I’d met her there, not because I had any burning desire to watch my friend give birth, but because she’d had nobody else.
    Funny how Marcy hadn’t considered me her last resort, though. She’d hugged me fiercely when I got