***Read the first seven or you’ll be lost! Thanks for reading.

Chapter 8

I had a dream that I was watching TV when I suddenly felt a familiar presence. I looked over at the couch and Katie was watching TV with me. She still wore her blinding-white dress, but she looked nervous for some reason.

I said, “Hello, Katie. I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”
Katie said, “Hi. I’m ok, I guess. But I’m scared about something.”
I asked, “Why? What’s the matter?”
She looked at me and said, “I’m going to be on TV tomorrow and I’m scared you won’t see me. You have to see me!”
I tried to calm her and said, “I’ll watch as much as I can, but I have to work. Do you know what channel I should watch or when?”
Katie seemed confused and unsure how to answer before saying, “I think there’s only one channel to watch. I guess it’s an old TV because it’s small and there’s no color. But you have to watch it! Promise me you’ll watch?”
I said, “You mean I have to watch one TV in particular?”
Katie just nodded her head.
I asked, “Do you know where this TV is? I don’t know of any black and white TV’s that only get one channel.”
Katie said, “It’s at the fire station… I have to go now.”
I said, “But we don’t have any TV’s like that at the station house.”
She repeated, “I have to go…” and she was gone.

I woke up and found the dream so strange yet seemingly important that I made a note about it before going back to sleep.

The next day Cherry called Olivia from work to tell her our decision. Olivia was really excited and said that they would start getting some necessary paper work together and we’d schedule a session at a later date—once everything was in order. I had no idea what paper work they had in mind (seemed like such a simple thing to me) but I didn’t argue the point. It was their ‘show’, after all.

It was just after noon when we got called out to assist another station house with a structural fire. The structure turned out to be a higher end apartment complex. I never liked apartment fires for several reasons. For one, it was ‘close to home’ since I lived in an apartment. Also, because of so many different types of people living there, neighbors frequently knew nothing about each other; preferring to keep to themselves. Subsequently, you couldn’t rely on them to know who was home and who was not. That meant door to door searches for smoke inhalation victims—human and pets. Some pets were friendly; others—not so much. Another reason I disliked them was management. Managers were frequently uninformed or, worse, misinformed about important details like ‘is the power secured?’ or ‘is the gas main turned off?’ or ‘what is the construction of the building?’

We rolled to a stop and got to work. The primary team was on scene before we got there and had command. They were working on clearing the apartments and laying out hoses to combat the fire. The fire was isolated to the kitchen in one apartment on the top floor, so it looked like we would have it under control pretty quickly.

The manager (as per usual) couldn’t say for sure what the construction of the building was—he was new. But he said for certain the power was off and they were working on the gas main. ‘Super’…

I grabbed a device known as a fire finder and only then did I remember my dream from the night before. A fire finder would seem sort of like a black and white TV to a kid Katie’s age. In actuality, it’s a thermal camera that displays a black and white image on a small video screen. It can see through the thickest, blinding smoke with ease and clarity by sensing differences in temperature. Not only is it great for finding where the flames are, but it’s perfect for finding passed out victims!

We were told to assist in clearing the top floor and once clear, to ‘put the wet stuff on the hot stuff’. But we had to wait to get the word about the gas main being secured first before entering the space to combat the fire. We could hear the roof man cutting the hole through the roof to give the fire a path to draw oxygen (which is how you avoid a face full of flames when you open the door to enter the apartment—also known as a back draft). The word on securing the gas main seemed to take forever, but when we got it, we entered the apartment to start doing what we do best. From the hole in the roof and the now blown out windows, the apartment was clear enough that the fire finder was not needed and I let it hang from the wrist strap.

Brian was the nozzle man and he opened the bale to start fighting the fire. We got low to the floor to dodge the sudden rise in temperature. Most people don’t realize that it actually gets hotter inside a building when you start putting water on the fire. The heat flushes out along the ceiling and hits you right in the face if you are standing up and, even with the air pack on, it’s suffocating! But if you get low, the heat just rolls along the ceiling—passing over you.

What happened next occurred so fast, I couldn’t say what happened first. There was a whistling sound that I first thought was the wind coming through the open window. But the pitch began increasing rapidly until I couldn’t really hear it anymore. The fire in the kitchen suddenly shot up like a laser to the ceiling and it sounded like a small bomb went off on the floor below us.

Something was wrong and I could feel it. I looked through my fire finder and was astonished at what I saw. The screen was mostly white from the heat and there was flame spewing out from behind the stove like it was under pressure.

I keyed my radio and yelled, “Are you sure the gas main is off?! I got flame shooting out from the walls in here!”

I looked again in my fire finder while waiting for a response and couldn’t believe what I saw. Right in the middle of all that white was a black area about four and a half feet tall. Having black on my screen made no sense because black indicates a cool spot. As my mind tried to wrap around it, I suddenly recognized a clear shape—it was Katie. She stood rigid with her arm extended out straight; her finger pointing the way out while she was screaming and all I could hear was the whistle of escaping gas. I saw her mouth clearly form the words ‘GET OUT!’ as jet black tears flowed down the cheeks of her panic stricken face. The sound of creaking wood filled the room.

I dropped the fire finder and grabbed the handle on Brian’s pack, pulling him backwards while shoving Garry (who was behind me), yelling, “OUT! EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Brian and Garry simultaneously asked, ‘What the fuck?!’ while trying to retreat with the hose.
I yelled, “LEAVE IT! RUN!!!”

Brian instinctively threw the lever on the bale forward; killing the water flow from the hose. They did as I ‘suggested’ and we all ran for the door. The moment we cleared the doorway, the entire roof collapsed in a massive pile of burning debris on top of where we had been fighting the fire. The gas main had not been secured after all and was super-fuelling the fire, burning through the roof far too quickly. The apartments were constructed of what is known as light wood. It’s a cheap building material that just crumbles easily when it burns. Who ever gave the ‘ok’ to use it for an apartment should be in prison: the only thing it’s good for is a bonfire in my opinion. Moments after the roof came down the floor fell through, too. We made a hasty retreat from the apartment which was now fully out of control.

We regrouped outside and Chief asked, “What the hell happened in there?”
He already knew what happened, of course. But I answered anyway, “Gas is still on. Roof and floor caved in.”
Chief replied as calmly as he could, “No shit,” but I could see he was pissed and wanted to find the guy that said the gas was off. But now was not the time; there was still a lot of work to do…

Before the fire was out, three more stations were called in to help get control. It should have been a simple call out, but because of shitty (no other word is appropriate in this case) building materials and equally lacking quality of knowledge on how to turn off the gas main, nearly 30 families lost everything and were homeless by dinner time. Thankfully, no one was injured in the calamity but, for certain, there would have been three deaths if not for Katie. Surviving that collapse would have been impossible.

By the time I got home that night, the story had already been the lead story on the evening news. I called her to tell her what was going on, that I’d be late and not to worry. But she stayed up anyway. And, even though I had a shower at the station house, she still noticed the smell of smoke on me. I went to get a second shower so she wouldn’t have to smell smoke all night long; she joined me.

Standing under the hot water, Cherry just wanted to hold on to me for a while, her head resting on my chest. Eventually she grabbed the body wash and gently began soaping me up so I did the same for her in return. When we finished washing, Cherry finally asked about my day.

She said quietly, “Something is bothering you; I can tell. Is it about the fire today? Was it bad?”
I answered, “It had the potential of being bad. But no one got hurt so it wasn’t that bad.”
Cherry thought for a second and said, “You don’t want to tell me. Do you?”
I let out a deep sigh and said, “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you; it’s just you’d probably think I was crazy or delusional or something.”
She replied with a wink, “You ARE crazy; nothing new there!” Then she dropped the humor and said, “David, you know you can tell me anything.”

I said, ‘ok’ and proceeded to tell her the full story: how I had the dream about Katie; the ‘TV’ she wanted me to watch; the apartment fire; and, ultimately, seeing Katie through the fire finder and telling us to get out seconds before the building collapsed. Cherry just listened in silence; making no attempts to dismiss it away as a case of imagination or some other ‘logical’ explanation. Instead, she just hugged me tight to her and said, ‘thank you, Katie’. Physically and emotionally exhausted, we went to bed.

The next morning, I called Bill (Katie’s Dad) and told him about what had happened the previous day. He stayed quiet throughout the explanation and I wondered if he even believed me. When I finished the story and he still didn’t say anything more than an accepting ‘ok’, I was sure he didn’t believe me.

I said, “I know how crazy it seems, Bill. But I have no reason to make this up; I hope you believe me.”
Bill said, “No, I know you wouldn’t make it up; I believe you. Thank you for telling me—I just don’t know what to say about it.”

I told him that I understood and the conversation struggled to continue after that. I ended it by assuring him that I would let him know if anything else happened and he again said he would do the same for me.

Cherry continued battling Morning sickness for a week or so, and I got up with her each time. Right around the time the sickness subsided for good, Olivia and Amanda called to ask when they could see us about our agreement. We set a date to meet at our place to discuss the details. They were excited and nervous at the same time. Quite frankly, I was a bit nervous, too.

The day came for the meeting and Cherry was still not showing since she was only about two months along. And, just as Olivia had done about the news of her getting married, she chose not to tell them about her pregnancy. Amanda and Olivia handed us a packet of papers which prompted us to ask what it was for. All of the papers, they explained, were for our benefit. The packet included things like notarized statements that said we (I) would not be responsible for any child support; there were medical lab results that showed they were free of any diseases (like STD’s); the list went on from there, but it looked like it was all professionally prepared and it seemed a bit unnecessary, but we said nothing. There was nothing for us to sign, so it wasn’t like we could object to any of it—they were basically giving us rights! I told them again about my two requirements and they both agreed in unison. I offered them to see my lab results from just before Cherry and I got married, but, unconcerned, they turned the offer down.

With everyone ‘on the same page’ for the arrangements, I said, “I guess all we need to do now is figure out when you want to do this and where?”
They both said without skipping a beat, “As soon as possible for you two.”
That took me by a little surprise and before I could mention checking my work schedule, Cherry offered, “We aren’t doing anything today—if today is good?”

We all looked at each other and couldn’t figure out a reason for ‘why not’ and I asked, “Where are we going, then?”
Olivia said, “We are staying at a nice hotel a few miles from here. Shall we go there?”
Once again before I could answer, Cherry said, “That sounds good—let’s go!”

We followed Olivia and Amanda to their hotel and Cherry and I talked more about what we were doing.

I said, “I have to be honest: I’m a little nervous about this.”
Cherry said, “Well, I think what you are doing for them is great. Most guys wouldn’t do what you are doing.”
I looked at her for a second to see if she was making a joke and said, “Are you kidding me? MOST guys would JUMP at the chance to do this!”
She replied, “Yeah but, the difference is all about motivation. For them, the motivation is about getting laid in a three way with two hot lesbians. But you didn’t want to help them at first; you’re only doing it because I said it would be ok with me and a nice way to repay Olivia. You won’t even do it unless I’m there—that speaks volumes to your motivation.”
Knowing she was right, I said, “Yeah, I guess so. But I’m still nervous.”
Cherry said, “There’s nothing to be nervous about; believe me. I used to help Olivia all of the time, remember? Just ‘know your heart’ and you’ll be fine!”
I thought for a few moments and decided to see what she thought about having the shoe on the other foot. I asked, “What if two guys wanted you to carry a baby for them? Would you do that?”
Without needing to consider it, Cherry said, “Not a chance! But that’s different!”
I asked, “How is that different?”
She said, “How is it the same?! It’s completely different! Carrying a baby for nine months is a long commitment. You aren’t going to be doing this for the next nine months; once one of them is pregnant, you’re part is done. Plus, once you are done, your body goes right back to normal; you aren’t going to gain 40 pounds and swell up like a balloon and have stretch marks or have a doctor cut your crotch so you can push out a cannon ball from between your legs. Making a baby is easy—HAVING a baby is different! No: the only one I’m ever going to have babies for is you.”
I thought for a second and said, “I guess you have a point there.”
She added, “Besides, no guy ever helped me the way Olivia did, so…you know.”

We pulled into the parking lot and parked next to our friends. They were visibly a bit nervous as well and that, ironically, put me more at ease. They led the way to their room and we followed; all of us electing not to discuss our intentions—just to keep anyone from possibly over hearing us.

Their room was one of the largest suites on the fourth floor. It was set up like a small apartment with a kitchen and eating area, a living room, large bathroom, and a bedroom with a king size bed. We sat at the table and went over some details once more.

Amanda said, “Even though we are completely sure we want to do this, we are a little nervous. And we hope you understand.”
I said, “That’s ok: I feel the same way.”
Amanda said, “We’ve never made Love in the presence of someone else and neither of us has been with a guy before.”
Olivia said, “We were thinking that we could get started by ourselves and just have you come in when we are ready for you. You ‘do what you need to do’ and that would be it.”
I nodded in agreement and Cherry said, “Yeah; that’s fine. We can even go right after and leave you two alone if that’s ok.”
Amanda said, “Well, not that we want to use you and kick you out, but…”
Cherry finished, “But this is about you two…”
Amanda nodded and Olivia said, “Right…”
Cherry and I both said as if reading each other’s thoughts, “That’s not a problem!”
Then I had the one question that needed a definitive answer, “Who is going to carry the baby?”
Olivia said sheepishly, “We still haven’t figured that out yet…”
I said, “It’s kind of important to know…at this point.”
Amanda said, “We talked about this a lot and thought, if you don’t mind, leaving it up to ‘chance’?”
I asked, “You mean, like a coin toss?”
Olivia said, “No…more like…a surprise.”
By the look on her face, even Cherry didn’t know what they meant. She said, “So, whoever he finds first—gets it?”
Amanda said, “Actually, we want to be surprised—if you know what I mean.”
I just shook my head and Amanda explained, “If it’s ok with you, we want the conceiving experience to be the same for both of us. We would take turns and whichever one of us ends up pregnant…has the baby.”
Cherry shrugged and said, “That makes no difference to me; what do you think, David?”
I was a bit surprised but said, “Yeah; that’s fine.”
Cherry said to me, “How about if you go get a shower? I have a few suggestions that may help them with this. But it’s ‘girl-talk’, so I’ll come and get you in a few minutes.”

I looked to Amanda and Olivia for any sign of objection. Finding none, I agreed and excused myself to the bathroom. I folded my clothes before getting in the shower and just stood under the hot water. I found myself wondering how I got myself into the current situation, not that it was completely objectionable—it was just highly unusual! I was getting ready to procreate with two married lesbians and my wife was all for it! Noticing my dick growing to the occasion, I decided to clear my mind before I ended up blowing it in the shower—that wouldn’t be a good idea at this juncture! This was something I wanted to get right the first time.

A little while later, Cherry came in and told me I could get out of the shower. I dried and get dressed again; Amanda and Olivia were still in the kitchen when I left the bathroom. They saw me enter the living room area, and looked at each other.

Olivia asked her wife, “Ready?”
Amanda affirmed, “I’m ready.”

They held hands and retired to the bedroom partially closing the door behind them. From the sounds I could hear, they were getting a shower, too. Knowing I had a few moments, I asked Cherry what she said to them while I was in the shower.

Cherry said, “It was nothing really. I was just telling them some things to expect—you know—like how it feels. I didn’t want to say it in front of you because they were already kind of embarrassed. And, I had some suggestions that might make them feel more comfortable while we are actually in the act of ‘helping’ them.”
I asked, “What kind of ‘suggestions’ are we talking about?”
She said, “Well, for example: the last thing they are going to want is to feel a man’s hands on them—they aren’t used to that. So, if that becomes necessary, I’ll help. And, I offered a suggestion on how to tell us when they are ready for us to join them without talking. When we go in, you shouldn’t say anything. But if you need to, get my attention and whisper it quietly to me; I’ll say something to them if we need to.”

I agreed (not that I could really disagree if I wanted to) and Cherry set about getting the suite ready—mostly by simply pulling the curtains closed in the bedroom and the living room. She pushed the door to the bedroom until it was almost completely shut but left it open just enough to see light coming through the jamb. Then she turned off all of the lights in the living room and kitchen; leaving the room lit only by what sun light came in from around the curtains and a little more from the doorway to the bedroom. It was still easy to see everything in the room, however.

We sat on the couch—waiting patiently. Soon, the shower stopped and it was impossible not to listen—although we couldn’t understand what they were whispering because of the echo.

“How will we know when they want us to go in there?” I whispered.
Cherry said, “They’ll turn out the lights and we’ll wait for a few minutes.”

I just nodded in understanding. We could hear them getting in bed and they were saying really cute and sweet things to each other while trying to speak quietly enough to keep us from hearing them. But hotel rooms are not known for good acoustics—sound simply travels too easily.

Amanda and Olivia were soon in the throes of passion and it seemed they didn’t even try to hide the fact. Cherry and I just looked at each other and smiled like two kids listening in on the neighbors. After about 20 minutes, the room got just a shade darker—they had turned out the lights.

Cherry whispered so quietly that I almost didn’t hear her say, “They’re ready. Take off your pants…”

I stood and stripped down to my boxers before following Cherry to the bedroom door. She opened it quietly and we entered the room to see (to no surprise) Amanda and Olivia making love on the bed. Olivia was on top of Amanda, but she took the same position as Cherry would take on top of me: straddling Amanda as opposed to being between her legs. There was enough light that I could see without difficulty that Olivia’s ass was just as nice now as it was when I first saw it through Cherry’s window. Olivia was sucking and licking on Amanda’s nipples. I couldn’t help but remember that it was Cherry who gave her a good lesson on how to do that.

Cherry quietly and slowly climbed on the bed to keep from disturbing the intimate couple as much as possible and I did the same; standing behind them on my knees. Cherry pointed at my lower body and mouthed the word ’off’. I looked down and realized I forgot to remove my boxers. I slid them down and pushed them past my knees; allowing them to come off as I moved forward. Cherry took position next to us and reached over to me to grab my still not yet hard dick. I looked at her as she gave it a few gentle strokes and it began to respond. She used my hardening cock to pull me forward until I was within reach of Olivia’s pussy. I could see already that Olivia and Amanda were not virgins. They may not have been with a man before, but they were likely using ‘toys’ of one kind or another. Cherry held up a finger to me to signal ‘wait’ and then she repositioned directly behind me. She reached around me and grabbed my cock while looking over my shoulder and pushed her hips into me to push mine forward. The head of my cock made contact with Olivia’s pussy and Cherry moved my cock up and down her slit.

Olivia kissed Amanda on her lips and moaned into her mouth with a mix of love and worry. Cherry asked if she was ‘ok’ and Olivia nodded without breaking the kiss. When asked if she was ready, she nodded again the same way. Cherry put my dick head right on Olivia’s vagina and pushed the head in with ease. Then, Cherry reached her arms out straight on each side of me, put her hands on Olivia’s hips and slowly pushed me inside of her childhood friend. Olivia hummed a tense sound as my cock disappeared inside of her, prompting Amanda’s concern for her wife.

Amanda whispered, “Are you ok, Love? Does it hurt?”
Olivia said, “I’m fine. It feels…different. Really warm.”

They went back to kissing and Cherry had me pushing in and out as gently as she could. I was rock solid by that point, but it felt like my orgasm was not going to be in the near future. Olivia’s pussy began to coat my cock with her creamy white juices. But I didn’t want her to orgasm yet because I knew mine was not even close. So I slowed down the pace Cherry had set for us. She seemed to take it as a sign and moved forward to pull herself off of me. I heard Olivia say ‘your turn’ and I moved without being prompted. I sat on my feet with my knees on the sides of Amanda’s hips and Cherry helped push my cock down to the waiting vagina in front of me. Amanda was definitely a natural blonde: the blonde, heart-shaped patch of hair above her clit proved it.

I was lined up and ready to push into her, but as soon as I tried, I realized there was a problem: Amanda wasn’t wet enough yet. I shook my head and pulled back a little while tapping Cherry’s arm.

I whispered to Cherry, “She’s not ready; I don’t want to hurt her.”

Cherry tapped Olivia on her butt and signaled for her to play with Amanda to get her more turned on. She understood and reached down to play with Amanda’s clit while kissing her on the neck and talking aggressively dirty to her.

Still playing with Amanda’s vagina, Olivia whispered, “I love this pussy! You know why?”
Amanda closed her eyes and said, “I know why…”
Olivia said, “Tell me why I love this pussy!”
Amanda said, “Because it’s for you!”
Her fingers moved a little faster and Olivia asked, “Whose pussy is this?”
Amanda replied, “It’s yours; it’s all yours!”
Olivia’s fingers became a blur before she said, “Say my name: whose pussy?!”
Amanda hummed and answered, “Olivia’s! It’s Olivia’s pussy!”
Olivia asked, “And how do I like it?”
Amanda continued to hum and answered, “Dripping!”
Olivia said, “There it is—dripping just like that!”

When Olivia pulled her hand away, Amanda was soaked; her crotch glistened even in the dark. Olivia planted a deep kiss on Amanda while stroking her hair. Cherry pointed my cock head back at Amanda’s vagina and we pushed it in with no difficulty.

Amanda responded to the sensation, “Wow! That really IS warm,” before they went back to kissing.

Olivia scooted back down in effort to rub her clit on Amanda’s. She achieved her goal, but in doing so, she had her crotch grinding on me as well. I quickly discovered that I could push for several strokes in Amanda before pulling out and quickly and smoothly pushing back into Olivia. So that was what I did for what seemed like forever. But my orgasm would not hit me. Olivia began to get tired and asked to switch positions with Amanda. I nodded ‘ok’ and they swapped places. Amanda’s breasts were very nice—even nicer than I had expected—but still not as perfect as Cherry’s. Olivia’s breast had grown since I saw them before, but they were still small; nice, but small. The next thing I noticed (besides Amanda having a nice butt, too) was that she had a ‘tramp stamp’ on the lower part of the small of her back. The tattoo spelled ‘Olivia’ in script letters, each one a different color of the rainbow, and the ‘O’ was actually two closely interlocked symbols for the female of the species. As far as ‘lesbian tattoos’ go, it was probably about as ‘cliché’ as they get, but at the same time, it was done really well and looked nice on her.

Amanda took the same positions as Olivia had before and I returned to thrusting into one for several strokes before switching to the other. It was sort of like ‘Russian Roulette’, but instead of bullets, we were using semen. The only question was: who was going to get the shot? And at the rate I was going, the answer seemed like it would be ‘no one’.

Finally Cherry whispered, “Babe—what’s wrong? Why haven’t you…?”
I shook my head and said, “I’m not sure. I think it’s because I can’t see your face.”
Amanda and Olivia over heard me and both purred, “AWWWWW….”

Cherry repositioned to the side of us and faced me before giving me a kiss. By this time, I had the positions of Olivia and Amanda’s pussies memorized and I didn’t even have to look to change between them. I continued thrusting into and switching between the two in front of me while kissing my wife who, even clothed, I found far sexier. My orgasm was finally building and I knew it wasn’t going to take long. When I realized the ‘problem’ was as I had suspected, it started me thinking that it should really be Olivia that gets to carry the baby—as she wanted. All four of us were here because of her. I decided to try and make sure she got what she wanted.

My orgasm was still building and I began taking longer strokes in and out of the two lovers. Soon, I changed the pattern to just one stroke for each before switching. Cherry knew I was going to cum soon and she indicated as much, saying simply “any second…” I was just pulling out of Olivia and pushing into Amanda when I felt it start to release. But I didn’t want it to let go in her, so I rammed it home quickly as the first spurt blasted out, pulled it back and drove my cock back down into Olivia as the orgasm finished exploding free.

As my cock finished pulsing out the last drops, Olivia whispered to her wife, “Looks like I’m ‘it’. Sorry, my Love.”
Amanda said, “It’s ok; I wanted you to be happy, too. I’ll carry the next one, ok?”
Olivia smiled and nodded in agreement before they kissed again.

I pulled my dick out of Olivia and it was soaked with fluids from the three of us. Cherry whispered to them ‘don’t forget the exercises’ and motioned for me to leave with her. I grabbed my underwear as we departed without another word. We went to the living room and I dressed quickly before we left the loving couple behind. We didn’t even say ‘goodbye’ to avoid disturbing them further.

Once in the car, Cherry said, “I can’t believe it took you so long to orgasm. You really couldn’t without seeing me?”
I said, “I really couldn’t. It wasn’t until you moved around beside me that it even started building.”
She said, “I thought you were just trying to hold on to it to try and turn them straight or something!”
I said, “Even I am smart enough to know better than that! No: it was all about you.”
Cherry smiled for a moment before saying with a teasing chuckle, “I ruined you for all other women, didn’t I?”
I answered, “Yeah; you did. And I’m not even joking!”

Cherry took my hand in hers and we rode in silence back to our apartment. Once we were home, I went and took a much needed shower while Cherry busied herself in the kitchen.

After getting out of the shower, I put on a change of clothes and went to see what Cherry was doing. She was grilling a late lunch on the stove and I couldn’t help dropping into my ‘redneck’ character voice.

I joked, “Now: dat’s how I like to see my women folk! Barefoot ‘n’ pregnant while cookin’ in th’ kitchen! Dang girl if you ain’t purtier than my cousin!”
Cherry got into her redneck character and said, “Y’all best hush ‘fore Joe-Joe Bob hears you! You ‘member what happent last time he thought we’s foolin’ ‘round—you two was fightin’ out yander so loud the whole trailer park was taking bets. You’d still be fightin’ if the law didn’t show up and ‘rest you both!
Still in character I said, “Joe-Joe is lucky his mamma called the law cuz I was fixin’ to whup his sorry ass!
Cherry said, “Yeah well, Daddy ain’t gonna let me take the tractor inta town to bail you out again.”

The thought of my pregnant wife riding into town on a tractor entered my head and I laughed for a split second before catching myself.

Dropping character, she said, “I made you laugh: you lose!” Back in character, Cherry said, “Now why don’t you go sit in the easy chair and watch the TV; I’ll bring you a beer.”
Knowing she won the round, I said, “Yes, Ma’am!”

Cherry grabbed a beer from the fridge and pointed me towards the living room.

I said, “Babe, you don’t actually have to wait on me. What kind of guy lets his pregnant wife wait on him?”
She said with seriousness, “Go sit down! Go!”

I reluctantly took a seat in my old recliner and she followed me, popped my beer, and served it to me before saying that she’d be right back and ‘not to move’. A few minutes passed and she returned with a plate full of food; grilled chicken, potatoes, and some mixed vegetables. Cherry stood next to me, turned around so that her legs were backed up to the arm of the chair, and sat down across it; taking a seat in my lap before twisting slightly to face me.

Holding a fork up with a bite of chicken on it, she said sweetly, “Open.” I opened my mouth and she gave me the bite to eat. While I was chewing, she took a bite for herself. We continued sharing the plate of food in this fashion—with her doing all of the ‘work’. I just looked at her in amazement.

“Why are you so good to me?” I asked.
She said matter-of-fact, “You’re my husband. I Love you!”
I said, “Yeah but, there are a lot of women that love their husbands and they don’t dote on them while pregnant like you are doing right now.
Cherry said, “Oh please! I’m not even showing yet! Trust me: before the baby comes, you’ll be waiting on me a lot, too.” Then she joked, “So, I’m just paying you now for services I expect later!”
I said, “I’ll be happy to give you all the ‘services’ you can handle!”
Cherry rolled her eyes and said, “You’re a pig!”

She kissed me on the lips and took the plate from our finished lunch back into the kitchen. While passing through the living room, she turned on sports center and said she’d be right back. I was getting caught up on all of the sports highlights I’d missed and lost track of time. But it must have been 15 to 20 minutes before Cherry ‘came right back’ because, when she did, she nearly gave me a heart attack! I was not expecting her to be wearing what she had on because I didn’t even realize she HAD what she was wearing! She wore the sexiest French Maid costume I’d ever seen and she was in character; putting on a thick, French accent. I looked at her from the floor up, viewing her tall, black heels; stark-white thigh-high nylons; her jet black, hip hugging skirt was so short it didn’t cover the tops of her nylons; the skirt had a white apron bordered with lace; her midriff was completely bare because her top was like a bikini top with puffy sleeves and a plunging neckline—her massive amount of cleavage was pouring out from it; and she had a black bonnet with white lace to match her skirt and apron. Completing the look was a prop feather duster that was as black as the costume.

“Bonjour, monsieur,” Cherry said with her French maid accent.
Liking where this was going, I said, “Hello! And, what is your name?”
Keeping the thick accent, she said, “I yem Cha-rie: vous new ‘ouse keepar.” She pronounced her name nearly like ‘Sherry’, but with an ‘a’ instead of an ‘e’ and a hard emphasis on the second syllable.
I said, “It’s nice to meet you Cherry…”
She cut me off, saying “NO! Iz not pronounce ‘Cherry’; iz Cha-rie!”
Corrected, I said, “Oh, Cha-rie—ok…”
She said, “Oui!” as she playfully brushed me on the nose with her feather duster.
I asked, “And, you say you are my new house keeper, huh?”
Cha-rie said, “Oui Monsieur,” as she pretended to start dusting random items in the living room.
I asked, “What happened to my last house keeper—Lisa?”
She replied, “She was fire for not doing good job.”
I replied simply, “I see.”

After a few moments of intentional over-acting and ‘cleaning’, she bent over at the waist to pick something up off of the floor and she never bent her knees to do so. The fact that she was wearing high heels made it all the more impressive (and sexy)! While she was bent over (for much longer than actually necessary to pick something up), her skirt had no chance of keeping her white satin panties covered. They were (naturally) French cut and had little ruffles along the hems. If she paid $5,000 for the costume, it was a bargain! I had to unzip my shorts…

I said, “That sure is a nice uniform, Cha-rie.”
Cha-rie seemed to disagree, saying, “AH! Zis uniform! Ridiculous! Iz so modest an stuff-ie! I look, how you say? A Prude?”
I laughed a little and said, “It is a bit conservative, I suppose. But you make it look great; not at all like a prude.”
Cha-rie smiled and said, “Merci beaucoup, Monsieur Mann!”

Cha-rie went back to ‘work’ and I just watched—enjoying every second of her performance. She moved in front of the TV and, to my utter astonishment, did a full split for the purpose of ‘organizing items’ on the TV stand. It had been a while since I saw her do one, but she did it just as easily as she had ever done. Once she ‘finished’, she stood and turned around to face me.

Feigning fatigue, she said, “Iz so hot in zis uniform! I feel I cannot breathe!”
I said, “Cha-rie, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable…”
She asked, “Would be ‘ok’ if I make le uniform…more comfortable?”
I said, “Of course: you are doing a great job; you should be comfortable while doing it.”
“Merci! Merci beaucoup!”

Cha-rie untied the knot between her breasts that was barely holding her top together. She slipped the top backwards and let it slide down her arms behind her before catching it and tossing it to the couch. She was wearing a completely sheer, black bra that made the top look enormous. Before I had much time to react to the heavenly vision, she slipped her hands under her short skirt and wiggled herself out of her satin panties; tossing them next to her discarded top.

She said, “Ah, so much bettar. I can breathe again!”
I asked, “Are you ok to clean again now?”
Char-rie said, “I yem fin cleaning for today.”
Disappointed, I said, “Oh, well: thank you for your services, Cha-rie. You were fantastic!”
She replied, “Silly monsieur Mann! I yem no fin with services; just cleaning!”

She walked up to me, got on her knees and finished the job of freeing my rigid cock before tentatively stroking it for a few moments.

I made a joke and said, “Lisa never did this when she came here…”
Cha-rie said, “That iz why she iz fire… I try now to give vous good job.”

After a few more gentle strokes, it looked like Cha-rie was going to give me a really nice hand job. It surprised me when it quickly transitioned into a blow job… Cha-rie’s red wavy hair bounced in my lap as she gave me one incredible oral experience! She was so good, that my eyes rolled into the back of my head. I wanted to cum already, but I was not even close yet. I looked down just in time to see her peeking up at me. Our eyes met for a second and she tried to keep from smiling at my expression before going back ‘to work’. She bobbed almost furiously up and down while occasionally plunging all of the way down and holding there. She began going all of the way down more and more often until she began to get used to having my cock going down her throat. Cha-rie began going all of the way down and then bobbed herself slightly; forcefully pushing her face into my pelvis. Despite receiving the best blowjob ever performed, I was still not ready to cum!

Cha-rie took a break to ask, “Iz ‘ok’ job I do for vous?”
I said, “It’s so much better than just ‘ok’! It’s incredible!”
She asked, “But why vous not…”
I said, “I don’t know. I just can’t get there yet.”
She offered, “I ‘elp vous get there.”

Not waiting for me to accept her ‘offer for help’, she stood, turned around and began to sit on my lap while guiding my cock to the best place on Earth (or anywhere, as far as I was concerned). My cock disappeared right in front of me as Cha-rie lowered herself to me. I held on to her hips as she began to rock and grind on my lap.

She began to hum and said, “Oh, Oui Monsieur; oui!” Then she collected herself long enough to say, “Vous tell me before vous ‘get there’? I not ‘ave birth control and I want fin good job!”

I promised to tell her before I would cum and she went back to rocking and bouncing her ass on my lap. Each time she would raise up, it was clear to me just how turned on she was: my cock had a heavy coating of her fluids all over it. It was so thick that it looked like I was wearing an opaque condom! Cha-rie began to bounce in earnest and her hands went up to help steady her head while she began to scream. Suddenly her pussy clamped and pulsed while her juices squirted out, covering my lap. Even though she was looking away from me, it was too much to take and my orgasm began to build incredibly fast.

I said, “It’s coming soon!”

She jumped off of my lap and, without hesitation, swallowed my cock down while looking up at me with her beautiful green eyes full of anticipation. I blew my load with such force that it made the main gun of a tank look like a cork gun; Cha-rie was lucky to have survived the blast! She sealed her lips around my erupting cock and refused to surrender a drop of what I gave her. Even with the orgasm subsided, she continued the blowjob until there was no trace of fluids left behind. Once satisfied, she stood and began collecting the discarded parts of her uniform and she put them back on.

Cha-rie said, “Vous are ‘appy with job, monsieur Mann?”
I replied, “Oh yes, Cha-rie! I’m very happy—you are the best!”
She replied, “Merci! If that iz all, I will see vous next time?”
I said, “Yes; and I certainly look forward to it!”
Cha-rie said, “I az well; Au revoir!”

Cha-rie walked back into the bedroom and I watched her until the door closed behind her. I marveled at how I never got tired or bored of looking at her, how sexy she was and the way she kept things interesting. I was lost in thought about my Cherry when, a few minutes later, she came back out from the bedroom wearing what she had on before ‘Cha-rie’ came to visit. Cherry sat on my lap and she was clearly no longer in character.

She said, “I’m so sorry, Babe…”
Confused, I asked, “Sorry? For what?”
She explained, “I laid down for a minute back there and passed out. I guess I just needed a nap.”
I smiled and said, “That’s ok.”
She asked, “Anything interesting happen while I was out?”
Still smiling, I said, “Nothing much; the cleaning lady was here—a new girl; had a bit of a French accent.”
Cherry looked around and asked, “Did she do a good job? Was she thorough?”
I answered, “Yeah, she was great. She even wore a nice uniform; made her look more professional.”
“Was she cute?” Cherry ‘wondered’.
I slowly nodded my head and said, “I have to admit: she was pretty attractive.”

We both started to laugh and neither one of us could be declared a ‘loser’ for being the first to laugh. We spent the rest of the day relaxing on the couch together. Sometimes we were just spending quality time in silence; other times we were trying to decide on baby names or going over the millions of other things we needed to get done in the next seven months before the baby arrived.

The next morning, Olivia called to thank us again for helping her and Amanda like we did. They decided to go back home early so they could get a head start on making arrangements for moving back. We asked them to stay in touch and to let us know if there were any ‘developments’; they promised that they would, of course.

Olivia said to Cherry, “I can’t believe I’m going to have a baby before you! I always thought you’d have one first.”
Cherry said, “Hey: you don’t even know if you’re pregnant yet. I still might beat you to it!”
Olivia thought for a few seconds and said, “Oh, my god…”
Cherry simply asked her, “What?”
Olivia replied, “You’re pregnant.”

Cherry tried to keep the secret a little longer, but her stammering for a story told the truth.

Olivia became excited and said, “You ARE! You’re pregnant! How far along?”
Cherry admitted, “I’m at eight weeks.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Olivia asked.
Cherry said, “I don’t know; I guess I wanted to surprise you later.”

The two life-long friends began chatting with excitement about babies and all that comes with them; it was too adorable to watch. They talked for at least an hour before Olivia had to end the call because of a low battery. Several weeks later, we got a card from Olivia and Amanda announcing Olivia’s pregnancy. The card was ‘classy’, reading: “Morning sickness blows chunks! But I wouldn’t trade it for anything!” and there was a printed picture of two positive home pregnancy testers.

Cherry called to congratulate Olivia (and Amanda, too) on the baby. She asked about why she took two tests and Olivia said the box came with two and they just wanted to be sure there wasn’t a mistake. It would also have been a waste to just throw the second one away, so getting the ‘second positive’ made sense.

Between doctor’s appointments and ultrasounds, buying things for the baby, and work, the next several months flew by in a flash! But once a week Cherry would put on one particular outfit and I took a full length profile picture of her to document the progress of her pregnancy. We knew this was not exactly an original idea, but we both liked the simple photo documentary. We elected to be surprised and not find out the sex of the baby during the ultrasounds. This drove both of our families nuts, but we found it more exciting to wait. Olivia and Amanda decided not to wait and discovered she was having a little boy. They asked if I could help with ‘boy stuff’ as he got older; neither Olivia nor Amanda knew much about things like fishing, camping, or making tree forts… I, of course, told them I would love to help; to spend time with him as frequently as possible.

It wasn’t until seven months after helping Olivia and Amanda that they were able to finally find work and make their move to our area. Cherry was ready to deliver any day and, other than her full, round stomach and now larger breasts, she looked like she hadn’t gained a pound. She and Olivia wanted to get together before Cherry delivered so they could spend some time together while they were both pregnant and to get a few pictures since the occasion would never happen again (Olivia was only having the one baby, after all). We made plans to meet at a nice restaurant for dinner.

Olivia called Cherry and I from the restaurant to tell us they were already there and waiting for us. Normally we would have been there already, but clearly when you are nine months pregnant, you don’t move as quickly as you once did. Olivia understood and said to ask the hostess to be seated with the ‘Hart party’.

We arrived a few minutes later and the hostess sat us with Olivia right away. Amanda was not there. Olivia struggled slightly to get up when she saw Cherry and the two friends hugged while holding their swollen bellies to the side. They were talking before they even took their seats; remaking how great the other looked. I helped push Cherry’s chair in for her before taking my own seat.

Cherry asked, “Where is Amanda? I thought she was joining us?”
Olivia said, “Oh, she’s here! She just had to use the ladies’ room.”
Cherry whispered, “Your boobs are getting big!”
Olivia said, “I know; almost a C cup now. But look who’s talking!”

The conversation quickly turned back to all things ‘baby’ and I more-or-less just listened to them carry on. A few minutes later, Olivia saw Amanda coming up from behind me and said, ‘oh, here she comes now’. As I turned to look, I was reminded of the first time I ever saw Amanda and how she was not at all what I had been expecting (I had been expecting a man…). Ironically, Amanda was once again not at all what I was expecting to see. She was still Amanda, of course. However, her stomach was bigger than Olivia’s.

When she saw Amanda, Cherry’s face seemed to match my reaction: complete and utter shock. Amanda just smiled and sat next to her wife while they both said in unison, ‘surprise’.

Cherry was unable to speak with her mouth hanging open; I just stammered until I agreed, “Yeah: very surprised!”
They just smiled and Amanda said, “You have some pretty strong swimmers there, David.”

I recalled our ‘procreation session’ and how my orgasm began while pushing into Amanda before I pulled back out and released the rest of it inside of Olivia. I didn’t think it likely (or even possible) that Amanda would become pregnant from one partial load, but in hind-sight, everyone knows it only takes one sperm cell to get there and do the job.

Cherry finally gathered herself and said, “We…did not see that coming. Why didn’t you tell us?”
Olivia said, “We wanted to see the looks on your faces—priceless, by the way!”
Amanda said, “And you haven’t even heard the best part yet!”
Cherry and I asked, “There’s more?”
Olivia nodded while Amanda held up her hand and said, “Twins!”
I said, “Holy crap. Are you serious?!”

They both nodded and confirmed that they weren’t joking. Cherry and I sat in stunned silence. Amanda said that she was having two girls and that they weren’t even identical—she started out with two.

I said, “I actually feel bad about this! I mean: you only wanted one to start and then you wanted to wait to see if another was a good idea. And now you have three-all at once!”
Olivia said, “No! Don’t feel bad. It’s actually been great for us! The entire experience has been nearly exactly the same for both of us and that is really what we wanted.”
Amanda agreed but added, “We probably could have done without the morning sickness, though… You ever watch two pregnant women throwing up at the same time in one toilet?”
Cherry and I shook our heads while she said, “I can’t imagine. I don’t know if that would make it better or worse—better because you aren’t alone; but then there’s two people vomiting!”
Olivia offered, “Isn’t being pregnant glamorous?!”

All three of them laughed before coming up with a lot of privileges that come along with being pregnant: courtesy parking up close at the grocery store; people wait to hold the door for you—even if you aren’t carrying anything; and the unanimous favorite (and probably most necessary) front of the line privileges in the ladies’ room.

We had a very nice dinner while we discussed all that the coming months would bring, along with our plans for the future. Amanda and Olivia liked the idea of the four of us staying close and we considered them as extended family; they were like our sisters and we were like their sister and brother. For the time being at least, I would be ‘Uncle David’ to their three kids; we’d figure out later if or when we would tell them the truth about me being the biological father. But that was completely up to Amanda and Olivia to figure out.

Two days later, Cherry was having an unusually difficult time in getting comfortable. I was doing everything I could to help her, but nothing would do the trick. Sitting down was not an option for her; she just walked around the apartment while holding her stomach.

I asked her, “Is it time?”
Cherry thought for a few seconds and replied, “I don’t know.”

I kept my eye on her and by the way she was acting, I had a feeling she was getting ready to deliver. Her over-night bag had been packed for at least a month by that point; I grabbed it and took it out to the car. When I came back inside, Cherry was standing in the hallway with one hand on her stomach and the other on the wall for support. She looked like she was struggling just to remain standing.

Before I could say anything, she said, “NOW I know: It’s time!”

Being a well trained firefighter and completely at ease during emergency situations, I was naturally in boarder-line panic mode! Perhaps it’s easier to stay calm when it is someone you don’t know as opposed to the Love of your life… At any rate, I had to concentrate on keeping calm to avoid stressing her or our arriving baby. Cherry made her way to the car and I was with her to help steady her.

We elected to go to the hospital where she worked because she liked the maternity ward and knew a few of the nurses there. I pulled up to the ER entrance and ran inside to get a wheelchair. When I came out, Cherry was heaving herself out of the car and trying to get her bag out of the back seat. I told her she was nuts and to take a seat… She conceded and sat down while I took the bag from her before wheeling her inside. As she started her check-in process, I went and parked the car. By the time I returned, they had already moved her to maternity. She was having her vitals taken and getting hooked up to all kinds of machines when I walked through the door.

Cherry’s doctor came to check on her not long after I caught up with her and said that, although she was in labor, the baby wasn’t coming immediately. He offered her an epidural and she turned it down without hesitation.

I said, “Babe, you realize it’s going to be extremely painful without one. I don’t want you to go through that kind of pain…”
Cherry said, “I know. But that’s part of it—part of the experience. I don’t want to cheat myself out of that.”

The doctor said some women try that and change their minds at the last minute. He told her that she can change her mind if she wants, but after a certain point it would be too late. Cherry said she understood but assured us that she would not change her mind. She was right.

After 15 unbelievably long hours of labor, my wife—the most beautiful girl in the world—had to start sharing her title with our daughter, Nicole Olivia Mann. Nicole was a tiny angel and it was clear she had good lungs! To others, she was crying; but to me, she was singing. Her hair was red, just like her Mommy’s; perhaps a few shades lighter (but would likely darken a bit over time). Once the nurses weighed her and recorded all of the other vital information they needed for their paperwork, Nicole was handed to Cherry and almost immediately stopped crying. We took turns counting fingers and toes and enjoying that ‘new baby smell’. As new parents, we could not have been prouder!

After Cherry rested for a while, we began letting family and then friends come in to greet the newest member of the family; first our parents and then Amanda and Olivia. Even several of the guys from the station house came by to see the baby.

Cherry only stayed in the hospital for one night before she was ready to go home. Perhaps typical of all first time fathers, I drove 10 miles an hour UNDER the posted speed limit (at the most)!

Prior to becoming a father, if anyone had told me that it would change things between my wife and me, I would have told them they were certifiably crazy. Surprisingly however, they would have been one hundred percent correct. The dynamic between us changed dramatically. Perhaps more precisely, the dynamic was built upon: we still had the same Love and passion for each other, but now we had our daughter to show for it and Nicole opened up an entirely new level of Love in us that neither of us could have imagined before!

But the most dramatic change was with my outlook on life in general. My priorities in life shifted a bit and that took me by surprise. I no longer saw firefighting as my passion; it became nothing more than a job. My passion was my family. And the longer I thought about that, the more I realized that my inherently dangerous job put them at risk. It didn’t take long for me to start looking for new work

Chief noticed the change in me and, when he asked about it, I told him what I was thinking. He wasn’t exactly taken aback. In fact, he said he didn’t blame me. I told him about a job that I heard opening as an assistant to the arson investigator. It was basically in the same line of work, a lot safer, and it would even afford me a pay raise. But the best part was that it offered regular working hours! Chief helped me tailor my résumé and I submitted my application. When I went for the interview, I was told that my experience level was perfect for the job; enough experience to have a solid understanding of how and why a fire moves, but not so much that I thought I knew everything (meaning I was still trainable). It came as little shock and a huge relief when I was officially offered the job.

Six weeks after Nicole’s arrival, Amanda went into labor and gave birth to the twins. The first born had brown hair like mine while the second had golden blonde hair; taking after her mother. When Amanda and Olivia announced the girls’ names, the first one took me a little by surprise. They named her Katelyn. But her name had nothing to do with Katie; it was just a coincidence that they picked that name for her. Her twin sister was named Ericka. A short two weeks passed and Olivia delivered the first boy: Ryan—who looked exactly like me.

We were all very satisfied in our lives; both personal and professional. Amanda and Olivia were done having kids, of course, but Cherry and I wanted at least a few more. The new job was working out great and the larger paychecks combined with Cherry’s salary allowed our savings account to grow enough to buy a small home. And as soon as we were settled into the new home and knew we could afford it, Cherry and I decided to have another baby. Nichole was almost two when Cherry and I gave her a little brother—who, once again, looked just like me. Cherry insisted on naming him David after me. I didn’t want to be a ‘senior’ or having people call my son ‘junior’, so we gave him a middle name (Allen) as well.

Over the course of the next several years, we had two more kids; first another boy (Chris—who looked a lot like Cherry) and then a beautiful baby girl (Elizabeth—she looked like both of us). Life could get a bit chaotic at times with four kids in the house, but we loved every second of it. And with the help of Amanda and Olivia, Cherry and I still managed to find time for ‘alone time’. The unspoken arrangement was we would take the kids for a day once in a while (usually at least every other week) so they could have some private time and they would do the same for us in return. The understanding was perfect for all four of us and worked perfectly for many years.

One Summer Saturday When the oldest four were nearly 8 years old, Amanda called to ask if I could take the kids for a few hours to the play ground nearby. I told her that I was more than glad to take them and I loaded up the minivan (an ugly necessity for large families on a tight budget) with the seven kids and headed for the playground.

En route to our destination, we stopped at the ‘infamous’ intersection. It had been changed years ago and, to my knowledge, there had not been an accident there since they fixed it; certainly not one with any serious injuries. While waiting for the light to change, I reflected on the events from what seemed another lifetime yet, not that long ago. I remembered Katie and realized that she had not ‘visited’ my dreams in years—before Nichole was even born. I missed her in that moment and wondered ‘where she was’ and ‘how she was doing’. The light turned green and I barely noticed but began driving as if on autopilot. The sound of tires passing quickly over rumple strips snapped me out of my semi-trance and I saw a large bus coming to a rapid halt. Fortunately, the driver of the bus managed to stop before the light. I continued driving, shaking my head at the other driver’s inattention (while chastising myself for almost doing the same thing).

We got to the park and the kids were so excited that they poured out of the van as soon as I put it in park. The seven of them had the park all to themselves and I took a seat on a bench to soak up some sun and watch them play. A short time later, I saw Katelyn on the swings but she wasn’t really swinging; she just sat there. A feeling of severe déjà vu came over me; I went to see if she was ok.

“Katelyn, sweetie? Is everything ok?” I asked.
She nodded her head while looking at the ground and replied, “I think so.”
I asked, “Why aren’t you playing with your sister, brother and cousins?”
With a look of confusion, she said, “I’m trying to remember something—a dream I had, I think.”
I waited for her to continue and she said, “I dreamed of today before…a long time ago. I remember you were here. And we sat on the swings here—like we are now. And, I could hear them playing, but they weren’t here. What do you think that means?”

The End

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