“Well, for the love of God, don’t babble.”
With a smile on her face, because Ellie is starting to move toward us, Lottie says, “Babbling is what you get for plucking an amateur off the streets.”
“Are you two nervous?” Ellie asks when she reaches us. She places her hand on Lottie’s arm in a comforting way. “I get it. I was nervous our first time too. It can be embarrassing, having to do all of these things in front of people, but I promise, you’re in a safe zone. And starting when you’re only eight weeks pregnant gives you more and more time to be comfortable.” She takes a ball from the ball rack and says, “I’ll bring this over for you two.”
When Ellie is out of earshot, Lottie turns toward me and says, “Thanks to the modern-day Stepford wife, we now know I’m eight weeks pregnant.” She lets out a deep breath. “And what the hell kind of things are we going to have to do in front of people?”
“I don’t know,” I say, eyeing the people in the circle. “Can’t be that bad, right?”
“Deep breath in and . . . deep breath out. That’s it, and when you’re ready, start to lightly pulse into your partner.” Lottie is beneath me, legs spread wide as can be, eyes a dangerous shade of bloodshed as she holds on to her knees and I press my jean-clad crotch against her pussy. “Connecting to that moment of conception will bring you closer and closer to the little seedling growing inside of you. Remember that night, the way you felt. Was it passionate? Was it seductive? What was involved? If you’re currently in the phases of trying to get pregnant, think about connecting with your partner. Eye contact. Always keep eye contact.”
Mouthing to me, Lottie says, “I want to die.”
I mouth back, “Right there with you.”
As we found out quickly, this is a class for everyone, not just people who are pregnant, but those who are trying as well. It’s not Lamaze, per se, it’s about learning to connect with your body and your partner, hence the sexual position I’m currently in.
“Dave, such a beautiful rhythm, and your eye contact with Ellie . . . I can feel your passion building up, your loins stirring as you prepare to give her your seed.”
Lottie bites down on her bottom lip as she attempts to keep it together.
“Such a beautiful image, Dave. Now, Ellie, please, with your head thrown back in passion, there has to be something you’re doing with your hands. Are you caressing your breasts? Reaching for Dave? The more you evolve this moment into the real thing, the more you will open your flower and receive all the love Dave has to give.”
Lottie whispers, “I’m going to throw up.”
Strained, I reply, “Shut the fuck up and look as if you’re enjoying my pulsing.”
“But I’m not. Your pulsing is anything but enjoyable.”
“Not what you said last night.”
Her eyes narrow. “You finger-fucked me, not pulsed with your pelvis. It’s different.”
I swallow wrong and start coughing, which of course brings the instructor’s attention to us. The jangling bracelets on her wrists announce her approach and I wince as I see her clogs come into view. Fuck.
“Our newest couple, Hanley and Lonnie. Now, you look uncomfortable.”
First of all, it’s Huxley and Lottie.
Second of all, we weren’t prepared for a goddamn orgy when coming to this class.
Third of all, yeah, we’re uncomfortable, because we’ve never conceived or attempted to, for fuck’s sake.
But I don’t say that. Instead, I smile and say, “I think we were drunk the night we conceived.”
“It’s why it took him so long to get it up,” Lottie says, and when I shoot her a scowl, she grins up at me.
“It didn’t take long, never takes long with her,” I say as I squeeze her sides, reminding her who we’re pulsing next to.
“Oh, a drunken night of debauchery. One of my favorite couplings, because nothing is off the table, right? Even going bareback, which I’m assuming is what happened?”
Kill.
Me.
Now.
“Yup,” Lottie says. “Totally. We’d been fornicating for quite some time before that, but all it took was one drunken night of Catch Phrase in the backyard with friends, and we were toast. Bumbling up the stairs, we made it all the way to our room completely clothed, and then, bam, I turned around and there was Huxley, standing naked, in all his glory. One look at his erection and I knew what I wanted. I remember saying ‘screw condoms’ and I threw them out the window before jumping this man. The lovely pool boy found them in the pool the next day. Said he had never fished out condoms before. He’s a nice lad.”
She’s babbling. Jesus Christ, she’s babbling.
“Oh, so you jumped him, then?” Heaven asks.
“Yes.”
There’s no point in stopping her.
“Therefore, would this have been the position you were in?”
“Actually, no,” Lottie says. “This isn’t the position we were in. I love being on top.”
Heaven laughs. “Well, that’s why this is awkward, because we aren’t thinking back to the actual day of conception. If you’re not re-creating it properly, then we aren’t connecting with our baby.” She motions at us with her hands. “Please, please, get up and try again. Really jump back to that night.”
“Should I get drunk?” I ask.
Heaven laughs again. “Wouldn’t that be a gas?”
Yes, it fucking would.
I roll to my back and rest my head on the pillow, while Lottie climbs on top of me, connecting her center to mine.
“I can already tell this is more comfortable for the both of you.” Heaven gets down on her knees and settles right next to us. The other couples are still pulsing, talking to each other—connecting—and I can’t help wonder, how the fuck is Dave okay with this? Not just okay, but a very active participant. Some might say the teacher’s pet. “Hanley, walk me through what you remember. Was she topless?”
So, we’re doing this . . . a step-by-step with the instructor?
Christ.
“Uh, yeah. She was completely naked.”
“Good. Good. And when you look up at her like this, her breasts bouncing in front of you, her nipples hard with arousal, would you say it’s in that moment where your loins knew you’d be impregnating her?”
Uh . . . what?
“I, uh, I really wasn’t thinking about getting her pregnant. It wasn’t planned.”
“Oh, I see.” Heaven nods. “So, purely a night of passion. That is something for the ages.” Moving in closer, she takes Lottie’s hands and puts one in her hair and the other on her breast. Then she assists Lottie by gripping her hips and moving her over my cock. Whoa, slow down there. “Would you say this feels familiar?”
“Yes,” Lottie says. “Very familiar.” Her hips grind down on mine and she nibbles her bottom lip as I watch her fingers glide over her hard nipple.
Fuck.
FUCK!
There’s no way in hell I’m about to get hard at a stupid pregnancy class with Dave right next to me.
But Lottie is making that a difficult task, especially since she’s wearing that crop top and I can see peeks of her bare skin, the same bare skin I touched and caressed last night.
“Hanley, I need you to be in the moment. You’re thinking too much. Pretend no one is here besides you and Lonnie.” Hard to do that with a Mother Hen yapping in my ear. “Watch the way Lonnie’s body undulates against yours. The passion in her expression, the way her fingers glide over her breasts, tug on her hair.”
Jesus, this isn’t helping at all.
My body tenses, my shoulders practically kissing my ears, and my hands fall to her thighs, trying to get her to slow down so I can catch my breath.
“That’s it,” Heaven says. “Just like that, Lonnie, keep pace.” Slowly, Heaven backs away and moves toward the center of the group. “Don’t falter, Lonnie, keep moving as you are.”
Lottie nods and then glances down at me. “Trying not to get hard?”
“You’re full of yourself,” I whisper.
“After last night, I’d have a hard time believing this right here isn’t getting you hard.” She continues her pace.