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Augustina's Confession

By: Serafina1210



Offered without comment. If experience is a guide, you'll let me know what you think. Length: about 13,200 words. Tags: Straight sex, Oral sex, Anal sex, Lesbian sex, Adultery, Prostitution.

*****

1.

"You're a goddamn slut, Tina. I'm fucking done with you." Robbie's words were like a punch. They hit harder because they felt true.

I tried desperately to come up with something to say, but my brain was fuzzy and the best I could do was, "Aren't you going to look at your baby girl? She's beautiful." I gestured towards the bassinet by my bed, where Clara was sleeping peacefully.

"No way she's mine. The two of you can go fuck yourself."

"She's yours, Robbie. She's your daughter."

"Tell you what. You can have the house. Raise your bastard there."

"It's rented, Robbie."

"So buy it. You can raise the money on your back."

With that, he walked out of my hospital room and out of my life. Our marriage had lasted all of fifteen months.

I first met Robbie at a New Year's Eve party that my best friend Emma gave. She'd been all hot for me to go in this like "I've got a secret" way, so I was pretty excited already when she brought him over to introduce him to me. He was kind of sweet and slow-talking, and he had this directness, you know: he made it easy to tell he liked what he saw when he looked at me. He was tall and strong and good looking, and, well, I liked him right away.

"So how do you know Emma?" I said, the standard opening.

"I was fixing her furnace last week - she's real friendly."

"You're telling me. A friendly, pushy meddling busybody . . ."

"I like busybodies that introduce me to beautiful women."

I blushed, thinking I liked Emma introducing me to this hunky guy. "So you were fixing her furnace . . ."

"Yeah, and she asked me did I want some coffee, and pretty soon she was telling me about this hot friend of hers she thought I'd like and how I had to come to this party . . ."

"She throws really great parties."

He looked around and back at me. "I only see one really great thing here."

"Um, so you fix furnaces?"

"Got my own business. Heating and air. Just me and a van full of tools and parts."

"Sounds nice."

"I like working for myself, and business is pretty good."

"I wish I worked for myself."

"What do you do?"

"I work at the community college. Same one I went to. I feel like I've been there my whole life."

"Emma works there too, right?"

"Same building, different department. She's in Human Resources, and I work for the dean, you know, like checking over student transcripts to make sure they're okay to graduate."

He smiled. "Sounds interesting."

"By five o'clock I'm about dead of boredom. And the pay sucks."

"Maybe you need to get married." He was still smiling, so I didn't get the flutters, even though getting married was exactly what I wanted.

"I keep thinking that, but I haven't found a guy that thinks the same way."

"You've got to be kidding. You've got to get like five proposals a day."

"No more than one or two."

We laughed together, and he touched my arm lightly.

I love men's hands. I guess it's a sort of weakness. Back then, if I met a guy at a party and he touched me - not feeling me up, you know, but like touching my hands or arms or fiddling with a piece of jewelry I was wearing - that got me going. If I liked him - if he was good looking and had a kind of dash, and a twinkle in his eye, and he knew how to come on smooth - then I'd go home with him, thinking this is totally the one. But in a month or a week or even a day he'd like blow me off with an email or a text, and I'd say never again - but I'd fall for the next smooth guy that came along.

Robbie was smooth, and I was falling fast. We talked and laughed, and he touched me more and more, leaving his hand on me a little longer each time, till midnight came, and everybody cheered, and guys and girls were kissing all over the room. Robbie folded me in his arms and kissed me, a kiss that curled my toes, and I thought he was the hottest guy I'd ever met.

"How's your furnace?" he whispered.

"It needs some work," I whispered back. "It's leaving me, you know, frigid."

"I could have a look. Maybe I could heat you up."

"I bet you could."

"You want to go?"

"Right now?"

"No time like the present, and I've got my tools right here."

"I like a man that keeps his tools handy." We slipped out, and I directed him to my apartment about a mile away.

He was like on me the second he shut the door behind us. Right there in my living room, he had his hands on my ass, pulling me to him for another hot kiss, and it was like he owned me. His hands were all over me, not just touching me now, but holding me, moving me, controlling me - till he pushed me down with one hand while he unzipped with the other. I did what he wanted, on my knees on the rug, and it was this huge turn-on, the way he held me in place with his hands on the back of my head. My mouth was full of him and my heart was glad.

We made this trail of clothes between the living room and the bedroom, just like in the movies, and it wasn't a minute before I was flat on my back on the bed and he was inside me - forceful without being rough, taking his pleasure but not forgetting mine.

Two weeks later we were honeymooning in Vegas, seeing shows, playing blackjack and the slots, and having a great time. I quit my job, and instead of pushing papers around in some dean's office, I kept the books for Robbie's business, which he'd never had anybody to do before. His records were a mess, but it wasn't long before I had them all straightened out. I felt good about that, because I was saving him money on supplies and taxes, not to mention time he wasn't wasting because I kept a calendar for him. I got him new customers, too, because there was always somebody there to answer the phone. He told me I was a great bargain, and pretty soon I started to think about his business as our business.

That first half year was great - exciting, fun, romantic. Like if I was like at the sink, and he'd come up behind me and put his arms around my waist and nuzzle my neck, and maybe one hand would slide down into my pants and the other would cup one of my breasts and give it a squeeze, well, before you know it he'd have my pants off and my ass would be hanging off the counter, legs locked behind his back, and he'd take me right there in the kitchen. Or I'd be getting ready to cook dinner, and he'd come home and surprise me with a bracelet or a necklace and take me out for a nice dinner somewhere. It was fairy-tale beautiful, and it would make a lovely happy-ending story - if you ended it before I got pregnant.

I loved being pregnant. I wanted that baby - I loved her the minute I knew she was there, and I've loved her every minute since then. Clara is the best thing that ever happened to me. And then, you know, when you're pregnant everybody treats you like a queen. Men open doors for you and jump up to give you their seats, you get to eat as much as you want, and after a while you get to enjoy this amazing feeling of having a person inside you, moving around, and you have this sense you know what she's thinking and feeling.

The downside of being pregnant is you gain half a ton and look like it. Some men are turned on by pregnant women, but Robbie wasn't one of them. He never admitted it, but I knew. He stopped coming on to me, and all that cuddling and nuzzling stopped. He looked at me different - it was subtle, but I could tell there was no desire in his eyes. He seemed to be avoiding me, too: he'd stay out a long time after his last appointment of the day, and if I asked him about it he'd snap that he didn't need me nagging him.

Trouble is, a woman doesn't stop wanting love just because she's pregnant. In fact, being pregnant felt so good, and it made me feel so alive, that I wanted even more of Robbie than I did before. What could I do? Naughty nighties only showed him more of my new shape, which he didn't like; giving him his favorite food by candlelight got appreciative words from him, but afterwards he went off to watch TV; if I came on to him he brushed me off with some excuse.

Of course it got worse as I got bigger, till by the time I was at six months Robbie could hardly stand to look at me, and my need was about killing me. I told myself I had to bear up. After the baby was born I'd work hard to get my shape back, and then things would go back to normal.

2.

It was a Wednesday in mid January, and I was in the vegetable section of the Stop and Shop when I dropped a bell pepper. I was pretty clumsy when I was pregnant, and to make things worse, by then it was a real pain to pick up anything I dropped. It took planning and nerve.

So I was standing there, leaning on my cart and staring at that pepper in dismay when this man bent down, scooped it up, and handed it to me with a lopsided grin.

"Thank you!" I said with real feeling. "I had no idea how I was going to get all the way down there to get that!"

"I can imagine," he said. "When's the baby due? Let me guess - about two months."

"You're close," I said. "Three."

He gave me a mock frown. "I usually get closer to it."

"I guess I'm bigger than average. I feel like a hippo anyway."

"I've never seen a hippo so beautiful."

I actually looked at him then. He was about thirty, I guessed, and fit, with close-cropped black hair, and he had that look - a kind of warmth in the eyes - that says a man likes looking at you and he doesn't care if you know it. I hadn't seen that look in a long time.

"Thank you," I said. We exchanged smiles and I went on my way.

It was my day to be clumsy, though. By the meats there was a wet spot on the floor, and somehow one of my feet slipped out from under me and down I went, right on my bottom. I managed to break my fall by grabbing the case, but I was still pretty rattled.

And wouldn't you know, my hero from the vegetable section was right there with a hand on my elbow, helping me up and asking, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I think so," I said, but in fact I was scared for the baby and kind of wobbly.

I almost lost my balance again, and he caught me around the waist and said, "There's a Starbucks up front. Why don't we go get you off your feet for a few minutes?"

"Thanks," I said. "That sounds nice."

So we left our baskets parked by the meats, and he walked me to the front of the store with a hand on my back. I let him buy me a tea latte and a chocolate chip cookie, and he got a tall dark roast.

When we were settled he said, "I hope you don't think I was stalking you. I wasn't exactly following you around the store, but when I caught sight of you, I had to stop and look."

I think I blushed. "Most guys don't spend a lot of time admiring pregnant women," I said.

"You might be surprised," he said. "I think a woman is never more beautiful than when she's pregnant. I'd guess you were already amazing, and now you're, I don't know, I'm running out of superlatives. Listen, there's a hospital a mile down the road. Maybe we should get you checked out."

"That's nice of you, but I'm fine, really. A few more minutes and I'll be good to go. My husband'll be home soon . . ."

"I hate it when a beautiful woman uses that word. Husband."

I laughed. "Sorry."

"I'm Andy, by the way. Short for Andrea."

"Tina. Short for Augustina. I'm glad to meet you."

"Your husband, he's . . ."

"Robbie. He's a good man." I didn't know what else to say, so I added, "He's in heating and air."

"Is he any good? My furnace has started making a racket, and I've been putting off getting anyone to look at it."

"He's excellent," I said, and pulled a card out of my purse.

"Are you his business manager then?"

"Secretary, bookkeeper, receptionist, publicist, you name it."

He tucked the card in his shirt pocket and said, "I'll call you."

He didn't call, but came by - which must have cost him some work, since our address wasn't on the card. It was like eight in the morning, and Robbie had left a couple minutes before, and the way it sometimes happened, I was having this crying jag. I don't think it was about Robbie not wanting me - you don't worry a lot about your love life at eight in the morning - it was just hormones.

Anyway, I was like blubbering into a tissue when the doorbell rang. I wiped my eyes and lumbered to the front of the house to get it. Andy smiled and said, "Is Robbie in?"

It took me a couple seconds to recover my composure, but then I said, "Sorry, he just left."

"Damn. I was hoping to catch him. I like to talk to the man himself, you know, size him up before I ask him to do a job."

"Well, I promise Robbie'll do a great job, and I can make an appointment for you."

"Your promise is good enough for me," he said with a big smile, and I led him to a back room where I had set up a home office. I waved him into a chair and sat at my desk.

"Let's see," I said, switching to the calendar program on my computer. "He could get to you as early as tomorrow if three works for you."

"Sounds like a busy man. That's a good sign," said Andy.

"Yeah, he's got a lot of loyal customers."

"Means he works long hours, though." He pulled an iPhone out of his jacket pocket, tapped the screen a few times, and said, "three will work."

I typed "Andy" in that slot and said, "What's your last name, Andy?"

"Rossi. The Smith of Italian names."

I typed it, took his address and phone number, and said, "Okay! You're all set up for three o'clock tomorrow!"

I glanced at him. He was staring at me intensely, with concern and that look again, like he really liked looking at me.

"Pardon me for prying, Tina," he said, "but when you rescue a damsel in distress twice in the same half hour, you take an interest. Are you okay? You look like you've been crying."

"I'm not a damsel in distress," I said. "I'm a big horse of a pregnant woman and I . . . I'm sorry."

Just like that I broke down again, buried my face in my hands, and sobbed.

He put a hand on my arm and said, "Listen, Tina."

"You should," I said, and sniffed, "go. I'll - " I sobbed for a few seconds. "be all right."

"No, babe. Something's wrong. If there's anything I can do . . ."

"It's just," I choked, "hormones."

"What d'you like for comfort? Whiskey? No, not when you're pregnant. C'mon, I bet you've got some tea."

He led me to my own kitchen and sat me at the breakfast table while he put on some water and banged around in the cabinets finding tea, sugar, cups, and spoons.

All the while he kept up a cheery patter. I gathered he was a CPA at a local firm, he loved golf, he worked out at the gym every morning, and he was wild about Star Wars and Metallica. I probably would have found out a lot more if I hadn't been sniffling the whole time.

Finally he set two mugs on the table and sat down, scooting his chair close to mine. "That'll make you feel lots better," he said. He raised his cup. "Here's to new friends."

I managed a weak smile and clinked my cup against his. "I'm glad to know you, Andy."

We sipped our tea. It did actually make me feel better.

"You've got a fantastic smile," said Andy. "Your husband is one lucky guy."

"I keep thanking you," I said, and broke into tears again.

"Okay," said Andy. "This isn't hormones." He gently pried my hands away from my face and tilted my head up with a finger under my chin. He dabbed at my eyes with a napkin. I loved his touch. "You want to tell a friend about it?"

I wasn't born yesterday. I knew what kind of danger I was in, telling this handsome near-stranger that pretty obviously had the hots for me how my husband hadn't touched me in nearly six months. But I did it anyway.

I told him everything. He listened closely and sympathetically, putting in things like "That must've been tough" and "You deserve better," and as he listened he leaned in closer till his face was inches from mine. Every now and then, when I got to a part that made me emotional, he laid a hand on mine. It wasn't long before I felt like I was talking to one of my oldest and best friends.

When I was done with my story there was a long pause. The air between us seemed charged with some kind of energy. The phone rang. "Excuse me," I said, and ran to get it, feeling relieved and disappointed.

It was a customer that wanted to schedule a system check. I took care of her, and when I hung up the phone and turned around, there was Andy hanging out in the doorway, not five feet away, with one hand on the frame and one hanging at his side. He looked like he wanted to say something but didn't know what. His eyes were full of sadness and sympathy and longing, and his body, sort of tense and relaxed at the same time somehow, looked incredibly good.

I'm the one that started it - I'm not going to make any excuses. I'm the one that flung myself at him and wrapped my arms around his strong body and sobbed into his shoulder. He put his arms around me to comfort me and held me, letting me cry.

And when I looked up at him with tears in my eyes, and he opened his mouth to say something, I'm the one that stopped him talking with a kiss. I'm the one that was starving, needing a man's arms so bad I ached all over.

But, oh, what a kiss! He was big and powerful, and he enveloped me, and he smelled good, earthy and a little sweaty, like he'd been out gardening in April. His lips were warm, and it was such a turn-on to have a man so close.

It was a long kiss, and I didn't want it to end, but he finally raised his head and held me to him. I had this vague thought like "last chance." I still had the strength to pull away, to stop it. I knew the trouble that could follow, and almost certainly would.

But what I said is "I'm such a cow."

"No, no," he said. "You're beautiful. You're perfect." He kissed me again, and I was so thrilled with that compliment I'd fished for and so hungry for him that I clutched the back of his neck and thrust my tongue into his mouth, deep, like I'd lost something in there.

It was all me - not his fault. I'm the one that tore at his shirt, wanting to run my hands over his chest, somehow managing not to separate from his kiss while I was doing it. It seemed like ages since I'd touched anybody's skin but mine. I caressed his back as he held my belly in his hands like a basketball, and I fumbled with his belt and the fasteners that held his pants up, and when his pants fell down around his feet I got to my knees in front of him, knowing it was way too late now: the part of me that wanted to stop this was so tiny and weak, it was on the point of vanishing.

His cock made a big bulge in his underwear - so exciting, that moment when I knew it was there, knew his excitement, but couldn't see it. I curled my fingers over the elastic waistband, took a deep breath, and pulled down.

It was long, thick, and straight - you'd almost say muscular - standing out from a thick nest of black hair. And it was for me, the hippo. I took it in my hand - I could hardly close my fingers around it - and pumped it a few times gently.

"Oh, God," he breathed as I put him in my mouth.

I love oral sex, and it was great to do it again, feel the warm, smooth skin on my lips, have my mouth filled with living flesh - and the way he buried his fingers in my hair and rested a hand on my shoulder - oh, it was perfect.

We did it all right there in the office. He raised me to my feet and stripped me - slow, like when you're unwrapping a present you know you're going to love, and you tease yourself. Button by button, snap by snap, touching my backside, my breasts, and my swelling tummy, pausing between the touches for kisses.


Augustina's Confession



He laid me on the floor and kissed me, fondling my breasts. They were big and super sensitive now, and I was self-conscious about the stretch marks and my areolae getting brown, bumpy, and puffy. The feel of him rolling my nipples between his fingers was amazing, but I kind of hoped he didn't look at them too closely.

He did, though, and moaned with pleasure at the sight of them. He sucked them, and these huge waves of pleasure were washing all through me, and I thought I might come if he kept it up. But he moved down my body, kissing my big belly, my thighs, my pussy. 

Somehow he knew I'd be sensitive there too, and he was careful. Still, I squirmed and cried "Oh, God!" because it had been so long since Robbie had done this, the feelings were huge, a heat inside me that grew till it was like the sun.

The things I'd been missing! Even though I was awkward as a tortoise, pregnant sex was amazing: it was like my whole body was an erogenous zone, and all Andy had to do was touch me anywhere and I'd get turned on. And then he was so kind and considerate, though still totally in charge, and he seemed to admire my body so much, that I was way past ready when he decided it was time to move to the next thing.

I had a heavy wooden desk chair with a cushion to sit on and a big cushion for my aching back. He got these, put them under my bottom, and knelt between my legs to fuck me. I watched him as we did it - his eyes lingered on my face, my breasts and my belly as his hands moved over me. His cock was amazing inside me, and I came within a couple of minutes. I cried out - I couldn't help myself - and he slowed down after that, stimulating himself with long strokes, face dreamy but eyes still fixed on me.

Approaching his orgasm, he fucked me harder, and his eyes got far away, breath coming in gasps, till he pulled out of me and shot his cum onto my belly. At first that seemed weird, but I decided I liked it. So he had a thing about my pregnant belly - so what? He was friendly and kind, and he was what I needed right then. He gave me everything I wished I was getting from Robbie.

3.

By the time Robbie got home, I'd put everything in the office back, and I'd showered - which I often did during the day, so it didn't raise any suspicions. I felt guilty, of course, but I decided it was going to be a one-time thing. Andy had given me enough pleasure to last me through the rest of the pregnancy. I just hoped that nothing in my behavior would give me away.

There was no problem, though. I made dinner, and me and Robbie talked about the business while we ate. After I'd washed up, I went off to watch TV while Robbie went to the office to check his email and his favorite websites.

Between shows I remembered that one of our customers was having problems with a discontinued Carrier system, and I went to ask Robbie if he had parts for it. I must have been walking softly, because he kind of jumped when I said "Robbie?" from the doorway behind him, and he shut down his browser window - which I thought was an odd thing to do, since I could tell in the split-second I saw it that it was only Gmail.

"Jesus, babe, you shouldn't sneak up on people!"

"Sorry, honey," I said, and asked my question. When we'd had our discussion, I went back to the TV, resolving to clear my throat when I approached the office in the future. I had already put the way Robbie had shut down his browser window out of my head.

I didn't expect to ever see Andy again, but he came around to pay his bill the day after Robbie fixed his air conditioning, and we made love again. A few days later he took me to lunch, and we got a motel room afterwards. Then his wife was out of town for a couple of days (he hadn't mentioned her before that day), and we did it in their bed.

As we lay together afterwards, I studied a picture on the wall by the bed of a pretty woman in a wedding dress.

"She looks nice," I said.

"Vittoria," he said. "Yeah, she's nice."

"Kids?"

"No, Tori doesn't want kids." He sounded wistful.

I turned onto my side and grabbed his cock. "I like kids," I said, "and all the things we do to make them."

By this time I was pretty much addicted to Andy, or at least the way he was satisfying my cravings. I realized now that there was no way I could go without sex all the way to the end of the pregnancy, especially since he seemed to be getting more excited the bigger I got.

But it was wearing, making sure our house was cleaned up if we'd been screwing there, and making sure I was cleaned up too. I kept the place extra clean to make it easier to spot things like stray glasses or coffee cups, and I did laundry more often than usual, too, more to make myself feel safe than because I believed Robbie would notice if my panties were stiff with dried cum.

In spite of my precautions, I worried a lot that Robbie would find out. He seemed to be getting more distant as my due date came closer, and more secretive too. Like he was happy enough for me to keep the books for the business, but he insisted on managing the joint checking account and the credit card statements himself. He signed up for online statements, which only he got, and he never showed them to me, so I had no idea how much money we had or how much we owed. I was sure he'd figured it all out, and he was waiting for the right time to dump me.

Still I couldn't stop. Even though I loved Robbie, and I would have given anything at all if he'd just one time look at me with desire again, Andy was such a good friend, and so good with his hands and his body, that he made it possible for me to be happy during those last months. I think that's one of the reasons Clara is such a sweet, delightful child. A child turns out better when you're not totally miserable during a pregnancy. Not that I think adultery's a good thing. I knew, whether I got caught or not, that it couldn't go on. It preyed on my mind.

On the day Clara was born, Robbie was working and Andy came over in the morning. I hadn't seen him in a week. I kissed him and set to work making us some coffee.

We were sitting at the kitchen table with our cups. "Andy," I said, "we've got to talk."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"I love Robbie, you know."

"I know, babe. I love my wife."

"You don't want to leave her, just like I don't want to leave Robbie."

"Yeah, I guess that's true."

"The baby's dropped and my breasts are leaking like crazy. I'm going to give birth any day. Then I'm going to work hard to get back in shape. I'm going to make it work with Robbie."

"I understand," he said. "You're right. It's going to be hard, but I understand."

I took his hand. "You're so sweet, Andy. Let's give each other going away presents."

He was sweet, too, and handsome, and I was grateful to him, and maybe I loved him. And I was turned on. All of me felt great - well, except my back. I got up, pulled him to his feet, and kissed him. Then I led him to the bedroom. We watched each other strip, and he laid me on the bed.

He kissed his way from my damp breasts, over my belly, and down to my pussy. God, but I loved the way he used his tongue. I laid back, all heavy and huge, and wished I could see him do it. I'd never seen his face while he was doing it.

My phone was on the bedside table. I grabbed it, started up the camera, held it off to the side, and took a picture.

"What are you doing?" he said, surprised by the click and a little alarmed.

"I want to see what you look like when you eat me out." I hit the view icon: in the picture he looked blissful with his face half hidden between my legs, my belly rising in front of him like a mountain.

"Let's see," he said, and grabbed the phone.

"You're cute when you're doing oral sex," I said.

"So are you. Suck my cock and I'll show you."

"You're wicked," I said, laughing, and went down on him for a minute - awkwardly. I had to lay on my side and kind of lean in over his leg. He snapped a few pictures.

"Oooh, pretty," he said, and I sat up to look.

"I don't look half bad sucking a cock, if I do say so."

"You're devastating," he said.

"I'll devastate you," I said, and gave him a long kiss.

He held the phone out at arm's length to take a picture, but before he could do it I said, "Put that away. I'm gonna suck you off."

I made him lie down, and I laid on my side to suck him. Before long he twitched and spasmed, and his cum gushed into my mouth, and I was so grateful to him for being there for me, and caring about me, and thinking I was beautiful when actually I looked like I'd gulped down a whole watermelon, that I swallowed his cum and thought it was wonderful.

And that's when my water broke. It gushed out of me, wetting my thighs and making a mess on the bed.

"Oh, fuck," I said. "Bad timing."

Andy was staring at the huge wet spot, I guess partly in shock, partly in admiration. He really did love everything about pregnancy. "You gotta - " he said. "You gotta - "

"There's no hurry. It could be hours before labor begins." I was trying to keep him calm, but I was excited. I wanted to be in labor. I wanted to hold my baby.

And then the first contraction hit. It was a massive one, not the mild kind you're supposed to get at the beginning of labor. It was like a nuclear cramp.

"Awfff!" I grunted, and curled into a ball, or as near to a ball as I could in my condition. It was like somebody had socked me in the gut: it was a long time before I recovered enough to talk. By that time Andy was sitting up, holding me in his lap and saying, "You okay, baby?"

"Yeah, I think," I said, but then the second contraction hit, and it was like a grenade going off inside me. "Aaaah!" I cried and drew my legs up, but it didn't give me any relief.

"You gotta get to the hospital," said Andy.

"They all say to stay home as long as you can," I panted. "Labor's like six, nine hours. And this is my first time, so it's probably gonna be even - Fuck!"

I'd never imagined pain like this. If there was pain like this in the world, how could you ever survive it? They said labor would be painful, but . . . but God, this was impossible.

"It's too fast," said Andy. "Contractions aren't supposed to be this strong or this close together."

"Oh, shit!" I whined. I was hurting between the contractions too.

"Who's your doctor? I'll place the call, and you talk."

"Dr. Rizzo. Oh, God, I can't . . ."

Andy fumbled with the phone book, tapped a number into my phone, and handed it to me. I told the nurse what was going on, and she said to wait while she got the doctor. I had an enormous contraction while I was on hold, and I was crying when the doctor came on.

"It could be a precipitous delivery," he said. "It'll be fine - just get to the hospital and I'll meet you there."

"I can't drive!"

"Is Robbie there, or you got a friend who can take you?"

"I'll call Robbie," I said.

"Good. I'll be waiting for you in Emergency."

I tapped in Robbie's number, but he didn't pick up. I left an urgent voicemail.

"I'll take you," said Andy.

"No, we shouldn't be seen together. I'll dial 911."

"It'll be all right. Let me take you. What do you need?"

"My purse. Robbie'll bring the other stuff. The car seat . . ."

"Okay, up you go."

We dressed quickly, and I leaned on Andy as he led me to his car. I had a contraction when I was about to get in and had to lean on the car with both hands, gritting my teeth while I waited for it to pass. It was about ten minutes to the hospital, and I made him stop once and pull into the Stop and Shop parking lot, where I got out and leaned on the car till the contraction passed. I didn't see anybody I knew, but then I wasn't looking around.

When we were turning into the hospital drive, Andy said, "Friends?"

"Friends," I said.

"Send me an email and let me know how it goes."

We were a few feet from the Emergency entrance. Dr. Rizzo was waiting on the sidewalk with a wheelchair. Andy pulled up, I got out, and he drove away. Dr. Rizzo stared after the car. "Who's that?" he said.

"Just a friend. I need to call Robbie."

"I'll get a nurse to call."

Labor was short and brutal. It took less than two hours from the time Andy dropped me off till I was holding Clara, who was the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen in my life. But in the meantime the pain was unbearable, even with the epidural.

So I was exhausted, and they didn't give me long to hold Clara. The nurse tended her in a bassinet by my bed while I watched and thought. I was going to work hard to get my figure back. Take care of those stretch marks. Exercise away the baggy belly I'd have now. I'd be the woman Robbie fell in love with, and he'd be in love with me again.

I was drowsy, nodding. Then all of a sudden it hit me. The way Robbie had started to be late a lot around the time I got pregnant, the way he didn't want me to see his email or our credit card statements, all kinds of little things. Why hadn't I figured it out ages ago? It seemed so obvious!

What could I do? I fell asleep.

I don't think I slept long. When I woke up, Robbie was sitting by my bed, holding my phone and thumbing its screen.

"Hi, honey," I said, feeling groggy.

"Who brought you here?"

"It was a friend."

"Who?"

"Just someone. A guy that came by to pay his bill."

"You said a friend."

"I don't know, sweetie. I'm tired."

"The T shirt I found on the bed - does it belong to this friend?"

"It must have been your shirt."

"I don't wear that kind. You take a good picture. I think I like this one best." He turned the phone around and showed me one of the pictures Andy had taken of me sucking his cock.

"And I guess it's the same guy eating you out here" - he swiped his finger across the screen.

I stared at him, struggling to focus. There was something important I was supposed to remember.

"You've been fucking around. All the proof I need is here." He held up the phone.

Then it came to me. "You've been messing around too, Robbie. It took me a long time to figure it out, you know, pick up on the signs."

"What signs? Pictures? A stranger's clothes on the bed? You got signs like that? 'Cause I do." He put the phone in his jacket pocket and stood up.

"I love you, Robbie."

"You're a goddamn slut, Tina. I'm fucking done with you."

4.

So that's how my marriage ended. Emma came to take me home when they discharged me. On the way home we stopped at the Stop and Shop, where I found out that none of my cards worked. When we got to the house every trace of Robbie was gone: his clothing, most of the furniture, all the stuff in the office, a lot of the dishes, the TV.

That's when it sank in what it all meant. Here I was in a nearly empty rented house, with a new baby, no husband, no money, and no income. I sat down on the floor beside the car seat and cried. Emma sat beside me and put her arms around me.

"What am I going to do?" I sobbed.

"First," she said, "tell me the whole story. You've hardly told me anything yet."

I told her about the affair.

"This Andy," she said. "He sounds nice."

"He is nice. I wish he could see Clara. He'd love her."

"Andy Rossi. That rings a bell."

"He says Rossi is like Smith. Names like that always sound familiar."

"Still, I feel like I've run into him somewhere."

"So what else? What would you do if you were in my shoes?"

"Get a lawyer."

I laughed. "I've got nothing! What am I going to pay a lawyer with?"

"You wouldn't be the first woman that's gone into a divorce with no money. You set up a consultation, and you work out a payment plan for after you get a job. Divorce lawyers do it all the time."

I had expected to be living the blissful life of a full-time mom, but now I had three big, scary tasks: take care of Clara all alone, find a job, and find a lawyer.

Taking care of Clara was the easiest part. She was a sweet and easygoing child, seldom crying, falling asleep quickly, and feeding easily. I loved feeding her. The feeling of intimacy was wonderful, and breast-feeding was kind of a turn-on. I've heard that some women have orgasms while breast-feeding. I never did, but I understand totally. And then, Emma was crazy about Clara. She was spending like twice as much time at my place as she did before Clara was born. She loved to hold her, and she started talking about getting a man and having kids. Emma was a huge help.

Finding a job was a lot tougher. There had been cutbacks at the college I used to work at, and there wasn't much prospect of getting a job there. I applied for all kinds of things, and I got some callbacks, but finding a job that I could do and take care of Clara too was just about impossible. Robbie still denied that Clara was his. Sooner or later he'd have to pay child support, but till then there was no way I could afford daycare. I applied for welfare and food stamps, but the process was humiliating and it felt awful to take them.

I had no idea how to shop for a lawyer, and I put that off for weeks. Andy offered to give me money, but I wouldn't let him. I thought maybe he wanted to get back together with me, but I figured he didn't need that kind of complication in his life. One ruined marriage was enough. Meanwhile I took long walks with Clara strapped into a carrier, and I exercised on the living room floor, getting myself back into shape - not for Robbie or for Andy, but for me.

The divorce papers arrived, all official looking, from Andy's lawyer, and I had to get serious about finding one of my own. I only knew a couple of women that had been through divorces, and they both told me to get anyone else but their lawyers. So I asked friends that had never been divorced, and one of them mentioned a friend of hers, Robert M. Baron. I called, set up a consultation, and persuaded Emma to stay with Clara. I expressed some milk into a bottle before I left.

"Ick," said Emma, smiling. She liked feeding Clara.

I made a face at her.

"Hey, do you mind if I use your computer? I want to watch some vids, and a phone isn't the same."

"Sure," I said, and wrote down my password for her.

Robert Baron had his own practice in a small suite in a downtown office building. The outer door opened into a deserted reception area; there were two doors on the far wall, one leading to what looked like a conference room and the other to an office.

A lean, energetic man somewhere in his forties bounded out of the office, holding out his hand and exclaiming, "Tina! Bob Baron! Delighted to meet you!" He seized a folder from the receptionist's desk and shooed me into the office, which had a sitting area off to one side - two comfortable chairs and a coffee table on which stood two cups and a teapot.

"Betty made us some tea before she left for her dentist appointment," he said. He didn't ask if I wanted any, but just poured. I liked him right away and had no trouble telling him the whole story. He listened carefully, studying me from behind steepled fingers.

"So!" he said when I was done. "He left you with nothing but a kid and some unpaid bills. Don't worry - that makes this a completely conventional divorce case."

He talked with animation about child support and alimony and shoved brochures into my hands as he talked. His take on it was that the case was straightforward. This was a no-fault state, and Robbie probably wouldn't want a court looking into his private life, so the adultery wouldn't come up. Bob would probably be able to get me alimony payments, and certainly child support. If Robbie continued to deny his paternity, a DNA test would settle the matter quickly.

When he was done, he sat back in his chair with a satisfied air.

"Mr. Baron," I said.

"Bob," he corrected.

"Bob. I'm sure you've figured out that I have no money at all. My rent is overdue, and I'm eating on food stamps. I don't know if I can find a job."




Augustina's Confession



"Well, Tina, I'll be straight with you. I like money. I like it a lot. But I've noticed over the years that my husbands are almost always a lot richer than my wives. So I charge the men more, at least when they have more money. And sometimes, well, I decide I'm going to settle for the sense that I've done some good for a fellow human being - and that I've made a friend. You might say that friendship is the coin in which I often take my pay."

"That's really nice of you, Bob."

He sat studying me for maybe a minute, till I started to squirm.

"Yes!" he said finally, slapping his knee. "I'd like to be your friend. Are you willing to be my friend?"

"Of course," I said, feeling like a huge weight had been taken off me.

"That's fine," he said, stood up, and unzipped his zipper.

It was like somebody had dropped a bowling ball on my stomach. I stared as he pulled his cock out, already stiffening, and held it in his hand.

"Um . . ." I said.

"I'm a good lawyer, Tina. Thorough. Professional. I can get you a better deal than anybody else in this city."

What can I say? I didn't particularly want to suck my lawyer's cock. If I'd had any money, I would have gone looking for another lawyer. But then, Bob was pretty good looking - certainly no worse than any of the guys that had picked me up back before I met Robbie. So him pulling out his cock didn't terrify me: after the initial shock, it looked like a pretty good deal, actually.

So I sucked him, and I decided not to feel bad about it. After a while I even got into it, and enjoyed his warm hardness in my mouth and the strange emotional complications of the blowjob - the way it makes you feel submissive and kind of degraded because he's looming over you and he's got all the power, so you have to do it; but at the same time you're in charge because if you can control a cock, then you can control the man it's attached to, make him sigh or cry out with pleasure, frustration, or even pain. I'll be honest with you: I'm a good cocksucker, and I like doing it.

I said control, but then there's a point where instinct takes over and nobody's in control. Anything can happen. Maybe he grabs your head and rams you, and you both love it because you're all feeling and no thought. He did that now, hands over my ears, and my nose banging the worsted wool of his pants, and he was huffing and I was snorting as I tried to breathe around his cock, and finally he held me tight and pumped me full of cum.

"Yes," he said, handing me a box of tissues, "I think friendship will be more than adequate payment for my services. And aren't you glad to be able to keep your money for living expenses?"

"I would be if I had any money," I said.

"Right. No job, husband took the savings. We'll get you your money, but in the meantime I've got a friend who can arrange some temp work for you. Shall I give her a call?"

"Sure!" I said, and discreetly spat into a wad of tissues as he pulled out his cell phone, scrolled through the contacts, and made a call.

"Maria!" he exclaimed. "How are you? . . . I will, soon. Listen, I've got a client that needs some work. . . . Yes, very suitable. . . . That's great. I'll tell her."

He scribbled an address on the back of one of his cards and handed it to me. "You're in luck. She can see you now," he said.

Feeling encouraged, I called Emma on the way to the parking lot, and she agreed to stay with Clara (who'd been a little angel) for an extra hour.

The address on the card was a few blocks away, a tiny place, not much more than a shack tucked between two office buildings. There was a number on the door, but no sign. The door was locked, and there was no bell, so I knocked.

Maria was fiftyish, brown, short, rotund, and extravagantly made up, with bangles all over and a short red satin dress that showed lots of cleavage.

"Uh huh," she said. "Tina. You better come in."

She opened the door wide and I went into a clean but cramped office with a big desk, a sofa, and a few wooden chairs. On one of those chairs lounged a lanky young man with lots of big horror tattoos on his arms, a hard, pock-marked face, and hair and beard both trimmed down to a stubble.

"This is Taco," said Maria. "He's gonna assist with our interview."

Taco grinned and held up a notebook and pen.

Maria waved me into a chair that I thought was a little too close to Taco's and sat down behind her desk.

"Okay," she said. "You ever done this kind of work before?"

"I don't know what kind of work you're talking about," I said. "I've done clerical . . ."

She rolled her eyes. "Tha' Bob, he din tell you nothin'."

"I'm afraid not."

"Baby, this is Scarlet Lady Escorts. You know what an escort service is?"

"Yeah." I was feeling queasy.

"You ever done any that kinda work?"

"No."

"Well, I tell you, this kinda work isn' for everybody. You don' wanna do it, you can leave, and thass fine. But we got plenty of work if you wan' it, and you can make lots of money fast."

"How fast?" I was curious, but not committing to anything.

"Well, I got dates for tonight and tomorrow, and I don't got nobody for those. I loss a girl a few days ago, she move uptown, you know."

I didn't know, but I nodded. "And how much money?"

"Well, we charge three hunnerd for a date, that's half for you and half for the agency. Whatchoo do is between you and the client. You gotta decide what you're givin' him for your hunnerd an' fifty. Treat him right, though, and you probably gonna get a good tip."

"Uh huh."

"You do three-four dates a night, you clearin' maybe six hunnerd or a thousand with tips."

She sat behind her desk and waited for me to think. I was pretty desperate, with pennies in my purse and no way to get more money. I didn't particularly want to be an escort, which I knew was a fancy word for prostitute, but any kind of work would be better than collecting welfare and food stamps.

"If I decide to do it . . ." I began.

"You gotta have a tryout," said Maria. "Taco here'll help with that."

I looked at him dubiously, and he grinned at me. I noticed that one of his front teeth was gold and the others were yellowish. Smoker, I thought.

Maria laughed. "Taco's gonna use a condom. You got a problem with this?" The way she said it sounded like a challenge.

It changes your perspective on a question like that when you've just come from sucking off your lawyer. I had done that, I'd almost liked it, and I was okay now.

I looked at Taco. I still didn't like the look of him, but I knew I could do this and be okay.

"No, I don't have a problem."

"Good. You come into a room, once you're satisfied he ain't a cop and he can pay, you wanna get both your clothes off soon as you can. You wanna get it done, not hang out there all night, right?"

"Okay."

"So Taco's your john, an' you gotta get naked an' do him as quick as you can. Quicker you fuck a john, sooner you get on to the nex' job."

"Right."

I turned to Taco and tried to make myself imagine he was the kind of guy that turned me on - young, smooth, well dressed, dashing. It didn't work, but I managed to put on a warm smile anyway.

"Hi, baby," I said. "You want some love tonight?"

"Yeah," he said in a voice husky with tobacco smoke.

"That's real nice," I said, pulling my T shirt over my head, "because I'm in the mood for love."

"You don' wanna look like you're hurryin'," said Maria. "Get it done quick, but look like you're takin' it easy."

I unsnapped my pants. "You look like a big, strong man," I said, wiggling my hips and easing them down. "My kind of man."

"Thass good," said Maria. She looked at my stomach. "Hey, you don' look too bad for a new mom." Taco grinned and crossed his arms.

I unsnapped my bra, let it swing from my fingers for a few seconds, and dropped it. Then I pushed down my panties.

"Get him involve," said Maria. "Make him talk to you."

"You like what you see, baby?" I held my breasts, pinching my nipples and hoping they didn't leak.

"Yeah," he growled.

"So do I," I purred, gliding towards him till I was standing between his legs, "Show me more."

He raised his arms while I pulled his T shirt off. His whole torso was covered with horror tattoos - skeletons with the flesh rotting away, hideously scarred faces, zombies, and mummies.

Only his pants to go: I was lucky he wasn't wearing much. His cock was making a big bulge, which I stroked.

"Oooh, what's this?" I crooned. "Can I peek?"

"Sure," he said, trying to sound nonchalant though he was starting to get worked up.

I picked at the snap of his pants, pretending to fumble clumsily. I gave him a quick, rueful smile and bit my lip as I returned to my work.

When I'd succeeded with the snap, I worked his zipper down and tugged at his pants. He lifted his bottom a little and then raised his feet so I could pull them off together with his briefs.

His cock was enormous - both long and thick, with a distinct upward curve. A tattoo of a sword ran the length of it. "Oh, baby," I breathed, taking it my hand and stroking it. "you're real big!"

"Taco's somethin' else," said Maria. "He's tryin' out for porn."

"You'll be a hit," I said, leaned forward, and sucked him.

It was kind of cool in a different way, sucking the cock of a man I didn't know or like much while Maria looked on and encouraged me. I was liking her better all the time.

"Thass good," she said. "How much can you take him? Deep throat get you a big tip every time."

Taco was pretty intimidating, but I thought I could do it. I slowly pushed down on his cock as I sucked him, more with every stroke, till I had about two thirds of him in - that would have been all of Robbie.

"Fuck," Taco moaned.

"Thass real good," Maria said.

I felt proud of myself and sucked his balls next time I came up for air.

"You the one gotta move it along," said Maria. "Your john gonna take all night if you let him." She opened a desk drawer, took something out, came around the desk, and put it in my hand.

It was a condom packet. I tore it open with my teeth and rolled the condom on him. I had the silly thought that his sword tattoo might tear it.

"I'm glad you keep the king size around."

"I order 'em especial for Taco," said Maria.

Taco stood, lifted me up, turned me around, and laid me over the edge of the desk.

I was already wet, but Maria had a tube of lubricant and applied it to my pussy and ass, working it in with her fingers.

"You ain't gonna always be wet," she said. "You gotta keep yourself lubed, an' the john'll think you got wet because of him."

I was nervous about her lubing my ass, and I was going to ask her about it, but right then Taco drove into me abruptly and started fucking me hard enough to rattle my teeth.

"Uh!" I said. He was so big, it was incredibly intense, and his hands on my hips were strong.

"Good, baby," said Maria, who'd gone back to her chair now and was sitting right in front of me. "Act like you never felt nothing like that before."

"I . . . haven't," I panted.

Maria caressed my cheek with the back of one hand. "You doin' good, Tina. You're gonna be a hit. Real pretty girl."

"Thanks," I gasped. Taco was thrusting hard, hammering my cervix.

"Tell him how much you likin' it," said Maria.

I did my best to make my voice sultry. "Oh, yeah, baby, give it to me. That feels so fucking good."

"Real good, baby." Maria stood, pulled her dress over her head, pushed down her black lace panties, and climbed onto the desk, where she arranged herself with fat thighs spread right in front of me. She had a ring in her clitoris, and her thick labia had butterfly wings tattooed on them. Opening herself with two fingers, she gaped, wet and pink.

"Eat me, baby," she said, and scooched forward till her pussy squished into my lips.

I wasn't sure I wanted to do this - I'd never been particularly turned on by the thought of sex with a woman - but enough strange stuff had been happening to me today that this was like one more thing. I wasn't exactly skeeved by it.

I gave her a lick. The taste of her was about what I expected - nicer than cum, actually. Yes, I could do it: I wetted my lips in her, tickled her clit, and was distracted enough by the new experience that I didn't notice at first that Taco was slowing down behind me.

"Yeah, baby, thass good eatin'," said Maria, a little breathless. "Watchoo think, Taco?"

"Let's see," he growled, and pulled out of me. A second later I felt him between my cheeks, a pressure on my anus, a stretching, and then pain - big pain.

"Oh!" I gasped into Maria's pussy. "Oh!" Taco wasn't being gentle. He was fast and rough, and it wasn't but a few seconds before he was pounding my ass so hard I was sliding back and forth on the desktop, face bumping Maria's pussy.

Maria steadied my head with one hand, supporting herself with the other. "Fuck thass good, baby. Do her harder, Taco."

Taco's strokes were fast and deep, and I screeched with each one and meanwhile did my best to go on licking Maria. I think I would have screamed "Stop!" if I hadn't gone through that hellish labor only six weeks before. Nothing Taco did to my ass could ever match the pain of that, and the memory was fresh enough that I could keep this in perspective.

Pretty soon, in fact, the pain faded enough for me to realize I was way turned on. Taco had one hand in the small of my back and the other wound into my hair, sometimes pulling my head up and sometime pushing me hard into Maria's pussy. I pictured how I had to look - naked, being ass-fucked over a desk by a tattooed monster while I ate out this beach ball of a woman, and I reached between my legs and touched my clit, then fucked myself.

The only sounds in the room were the slapping of flesh against flesh and the heavy breathing and occasional groans of three people seconds from coming.

"Ah!" said Maria, and "Oh!" and came, and it was so sexy watching her fat tummy and big tits jiggling, that I came too a few seconds later.

"If he's takin' too long," said Marie, "finish him off with your mouth."

"He's not," I sighed. By this time I kind of liked his huge cock in my ass.

But Taco pulled out of me and gave my hair one last yank to pull me off the desk. He was rolling off his condom, and it looked so good, that cock that had given me so much pain and pleasure, that it was a thrill to sink to my knees and suck him, holding his ass cheeks and savoring the way his hand rested on my head as he thrust, just a few seconds before he filled me up.

I wanted to show off for Maria, and so I swallowed his cum, forcing down the warm gluey gunk.

"Oh, yeah!" cried Maria, clapping her hands. "Baby, you gonna do juss fine. You wanna start tonight? I got like three tricks I need a girl for."

It didn't seem nearly as horrible as it did before, working as a escort, but I wanted to go home and spend time with Clara. And then, it would take a while to arrange child care. So I said, "Tomorrow maybe? I don't have any child care yet."

"Yeah, yeah, baby. Tomorrow's fine. Gimme your number, and I'll call."

5.

"Yes, an escort service," I said. Me and Emma were sitting together on my sofa, the only piece of furniture in my living room. My shirt was pulled up and Clara was nursing. I was feeling euphoric, the way I often got when I was feeding her. Emma was holding a glass of wine, but I was still abstaining because of the nursing.

"Are you crazy? Do you realize how dangerous that is?"

"Lots of jobs are dangerous," I said. "And then it's been like a month and a half, and I'm nowhere close to finding a job. The rent's overdue, I'm living on slops, and pretty soon they're going to get on my case about work requirements. I want off food stamps and welfare."

"Okay, but this is totally gross! There's gonna be fat old men . . ."

"I'm not weirded out by it, Emma. I did good in the interview, and it was kind of hot the way they admired me and touched me. I don't know, maybe I'm a slut, like Robbie said. It's not exactly how I wanted my life to go, but I can do this."

"What if you get arrested?"

"There's less chance of that than you think."

"How about disease?"

"Condoms."

"Rape?"

"Scarlet Lady gets a better class of client than your street girls."

"What about Clara?"

I'd thought about this, and it disturbed me. I didn't want my baby to have a prostitute for a mother. "I'll never tell her. I'll keep it all a million miles away from her."

"That's gonna be harder than you think."

"Maybe I'll be doing something else by the time she's old enough to wonder what I do for a living."

"But - "

It was about ten o'clock. Clara was going to sleep in my arms. "What a sweetheart! I'm going to sleep too, while I have a chance."

"Can I spend the night, Tina? I'll sleep here on the sofa. I've had a little too much wine to drive."

It occurred to me that she wasn't hanging around because of the wine, but so she could look after me. It was sweet of her, and annoying.

"Okay," I said. I put Clara in her crib and dug out some blankets and a pillow for Emma.

It was a quiet night. Clara only woke up twice, and I slept pretty soundly, all considered. I managed to put it out of my mind that I'd probably have sex with three or four strange men the next day.

I woke up to the smell of frying eggs. I checked on Clara and wandered into the kitchen, where Emma gave me an impish smile.

"If you're going to move in," I said, "would you like bring over your furniture?"

She wrinkled her nose at me. "Is that the thanks I get for making you breakfast? There's coffee over there."

My phone rang.

Emma squeaked and said, "Oh, who is it?"

I glanced at the display. "It's my lawyer. Hello?"

"How did it go with Maria?" he asked. "I'm sorry if it was a surprise . . ."

"You were right. She had a job for me. Do you facefuck all your clients and set them up as prostitutes?"

"No. But you seemed - "

"Never mind. Thanks for the referral, anyway."

"Are you going to do it?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Listen, I've got some stuff to go over with you. Can you come in, like three o'clock on Wednesday?"

"Sure."

"I'll see you then."

"Pardon me for prying," said Emma, "but that was a weird conversation."

"My lawyer's taking his fee in sex."

"You've totally got to get a different lawyer."

"This one's very affordable." Clara started to cry. "Excuse me."

I ran to get Clara, changed her, and brought her to the kitchen, where I sat and nursed her. Emma brought two plates of eggs and toast to the table and sat down with hers. She stared at me with unhappy eyes while I ate awkwardly, shoveling the food in over Clara's head.

"I'm going to be all right, you know," I said as I burped Clara. "I can be left alone."

"Can you?"

"You're the best friend in the world, Emma. Go home. I'll see you soon."

When Emma was gone, I decided to take Clara for a walk. As I put her in her carrier and walked out, I worried about finding childcare. It was short notice; I'd need someone that was willing to work at night; and I'd have no money to pay that person until I'd made a successful debut as an escort. And how successful would I be? Maria had complimented my looks, but I didn't consider myself a beauty. She had said my tummy looked good for a new mom, but to me it still looked baggy.

Maybe the johns would take a look at my belly and my big maternal breasts and tell me to get lost. Then I had a really scary thought: what if somebody wanted to suck on my breasts and drink my milk? Somehow the idea of feeding some random guy in a hotel room was icky, even though feeding my baby was beautiful - and anyway, I didn't think I had any milk to spare for anyone but Clara. But how likely was it that I'd get a client that weird? Six weeks after childbirth, my vagina was ready for sex, and after my initiation into anal with Taco, I felt like I could do anything, within reason.




Augustina's Confession



I was so lost in thought that I was halfway up my front walk before I noticed Andy sitting on my stoop, forearms resting on his knees, looking worried.

"Hi Tina," he said. He seemed shy - not the confident man that had charmed me at the Stop and Shop all those months ago.

"Andy!" I exclaimed. "How are you?"

"Good," he said, in a manner that said he was anything but good.

"Come in! You've got to meet Clara."

He followed me inside. I took Clara out of her carrier, and he seemed genuinely pleased with her. "Lucky girl," he said. "She takes after you."

After a few minutes of idle chat, a tense silence fell between us. I waited for him to speak.

Finally he blurted it. "Vittoria left me," he said.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Someone sent her an email with that picture of me . . . giving you oral sex. The note just said 'Everybody knows.' She showed it to me and told me our marriage was over. No who is it, or how do you explain this, or anything. Just fuck off."

"I didn't send it, Andy."

"I didn't think you would, but I can't imagine who did."

"When did she show it to you?"

"Last night around eleven. She was checking her mail before going to bed. I spent the night in a motel."

"Did you notice when the email was sent?"

"Um . . . I think it said something like ten thirty."

"Emma," I said.

"Emma?"

"My busybody best friend. C'mere."

I led him into the dining room, which was empty except for a rickety little desk on which my ancient computer sat. I turned it on, and we waited for it to boot up. When the login screen came up I typed my password and caught my breath. The wallpaper on my desktop was a picture of Robbie and Vittoria facing each other over a restaurant table. They were giving each other soulful looks and holding hands.

"Shit," said Andy.

"Fuck," I said.

My browser started up the way it always does when I turn on my computer, but instead of my usual homepage a Hotmail screen appeared.

I was holding Clara, so I said, "You look at it."

Andy sat at the computer and said, "It looks like a new account, just one sent message and one received message. User name 'Tattletale' followed by some random numbers and letters."

He clicked on the sent message, which was addressed to Vittoria. There was the picture of Andy between my legs, face half visible. Seeing it again gave me a twinge, remembering both the sex and my huge belly.

"Pictures are synced from my phone to my computer," I said. "She helped me set that up."

He clicked on the received message. I leaned in for a look. The email read, "The pix are totally hot. You're such a babe and Andy is super cute! Why don't you get in touch with him? He'll be needing a friend. Love you lots, Emma."

I snorted. "That's Emma right down to the toes. Fucking busybody, and totally shameless about it. She breaks up your marriage on the off chance . . . Oh, wait'll I get my hands on her! I'm so sorry, Andy! She's totally fucked up your life."

"I don't know," he said. "I was up a lot of the night thinking about it. After the shock wore off, I was still unhappy, sure, but kind of relieved too. Liberated. Life with Tori has been strange the last year or so. She was staying late after work and making up lame excuses, she'd come home with this new jewelry and stuff and say she bought it, but there were no charges on the credit card, she was hardly ever in the mood for sex . . ."

"Now you know why."

"Looks like she was just waiting for an occasion to break up. I don't know how I didn't pick up on it."

"Power of denial."

"Yeah. But down deep I think I knew my marriage was over."

Clara was getting fussy. "She needs a nap. Will you wait while I put her to bed?"

"Sure."

I sat on my bed to nurse Clara, then put her in her crib. She fell asleep quickly. When I got back to the living room, Andy was pacing.

"You should sit," I said, waving at the sofa. "Shall I make some tea or coffee?"

"Marry me, Tina."

"You need to read some web pages about divorce. Rule number one, don't get into a relationship on the rebound. It's a disaster every time."

"I don't think the rule applies here, Tina. We already have a relationship, and for me anyway, it's a better one than I ever had with my wife. I was incredibly happy when I was with you."

"I'm a bad deal, Andy. Robbie was right about me being a slut. Yesterday I paid for the consultation with my lawyer with a blowjob, and I ate out a madam while an aspiring pornstar fucked my ass. I was interviewing for a job with an escort service, and they said I'd be great at it. I start work tonight."

"You're desperate for money. That makes people do strange things."

"No it doesn't. An honest woman would rather starve."

"Bullshit. People do what they've got to do to get by. But you don't have to worry about money. Marry me. Don't you see how perfect this is? We trade spouses. Messy divorces turn into simple no-fault ones. It's clean and easy; everybody walks away happy." 

"Fairy-tale perfect. Life doesn't work that way, Andy. What if I end up fucking around? I was only married a year before I committed adultery."

"He committed adultery before you did. And don't forget I'm an adulterer too."

"That makes it an even worse idea. It's too soon, Andy. Marriage for me is . . . way off in the future. Maybe never."

"Let's live together then. No commitments. I'm willing to gamble that you'll be true to me if I'm true to you. Tell the escort service they'll have to find somebody else. Tell the lawyer he can suck his own cock. Forget the child support and alimony. Forget about proving Robbie's paternity. I love you. I'll support you. I'll love Clara like a father."

He took a step towards me and held out a hand, yearning in his eyes. He was beautiful, and I loved him so many ways - for wanting me when Robbie didn't, for admiring my body when I looked like a delivery truck, for being sweet and generous, and for saying he loved me. I didn't want to suck off my lawyer again or work for the escort service and fuck anonymous men. I craved the security Andy was offering me and Clara. The image of his blissful face between my legs and the memory his tongue in my pussy was vivid in my mind. He had great hands. God, but I wanted to feel those hands on me again.

"No, baby," I said. "I believe you. I know that's the way you feel now. But how will you feel in a week or a month? Where will I be if you find out I disgust you then?"

"You could never disgust me."

How could I explain it? I was tearing up with the effort. "Every bit of me believes I love you, Andy, and everything in me wants to trust you to love me forever, and treasure me, and take care of me. But I'm not going to trust you, and I'm not going to love you, because I've felt exactly this way before, time and again, and all I've gotten out of it is heartache. Maybe it's my own fault - I bet it is. But till I understand better how I fucked up, I'm going to rely on myself, and if that means working for an escort service, then that's what I'm going to do."

"It's a bad idea, Tina."

"Give yourself a few months to lick your wounds and a few more months to look for a woman better than me. If you still want me after that, even though you know what I've been doing with my body, come back and ask me if I'm ready. Now go. We both have lots to do."

Eleven o'clock at night. I liked the teenage girl that was sitting with Clara: she seemed responsible, and she loved babies. She thought I was a hospital nurse on the night shift.

I knocked on the door of room 832. The man that opened it was about sixty, jowly, dressed in an expensive suit. "Some convention in town," Maria had said. "Computers or somethin', I don' know."

The man smiled happily: I pleased him. "Ed," he said. "Come on in."

I smiled back at him. He pleased me too: he looked like money. "Hi, Ed," I said, making my voice silky. "I'm Crystal."

He took a step back so I could come in. There was an open bottle of wine on the dresser; beside it was a pill bottle: Cialis.

It was all perfect. "I'm in the mood for love, Ed. Are you?" I came close to him and picked at the knot of his tie.

"Uh huh," he said.

"I'm glad," I said, working efficiently but without hurry. Jacket, shirt, shoes, pants. I maneuvered him onto the bed and massaged his feet as I removed his socks. I ran my hands up his pale flabby thighs to the waistband of his boxers. I liked the way he looked at me: his eyes glittered with desire.

"This is my favorite part," I said. "It's like unwrapping a present."

I pulled his shorts down: he shifted his ample bottom to help me.

He was already halfway to an erection. I took him in my hand and looked into his eyes, stroking him gently.

"Oh fuck," he sighed.

I'm good at this, I thought. A good whore.

I looked down at his cock, then back into his face again.

"And sometimes," I said, "the present is exactly what you always wanted."

I leaned forward and kissed the tip, the pink head of him, moist with pre-cum, and parted my lips to let him slide slowly into me - past my teeth, over my tongue, along the roof of my mouth till, warm and smooth, he pressed through the narrow passage to the core of me.