“Paula, you have done so much more with other guys than I have,” he said with a gaze that spoke of conventional and judgemental thinking.
“Oh, is that so?” I retorted. “Just how many virgins did you have along the way? That was your specialty, right? Do them and then move to the next?”
I wasn’t going to let him off easy, after that judgemental wisecrack. I had a lot of work left to get my future husband to shed his basic upbringing.
“A few, I guess.”
“I’ll make a deal with you Paul,” I said, taking his face in my hands. “I won’t look down at you for popping virgin cherries then moving on to the next one, and you don’t look down at me for having had men before you. How’s that?”
“Deal,” he replied, and that was that.
Paul needed instruction and encouragement, but eventually, he became adept at anal sex and even lost his aversion to giving me a hard fuck. A month after that first night of anal, the doctor cleared me to have vaginal sex. The response from paul was unbelievable.
I could not believe that he was the same man who had Madona complex during my pregnancy. The baby did get in the way at times. They spoil a good sex session with their needs and demands, but one can’t fault them for it. They are helpless without their parents, and all the poor things can do is cry when they are hungry, need changing, or need some attention and love. And they are so cute!
We never faulted little Patricia, Patty, for crying when she needed us. She was a source of much joy and happiness. So much so that I started to have ideas about another one. I had lost a couple of weeks of classes, but the professors gave my work to other students of their teaching assistants to bring to me. One even recorded his lecture and sent it to me to hear on a cassette player. So I was back on track academically.
A woman in our building watched Patty for me as I went back to classes. Not all of them, unfortunately. So I had to miss some days and some of my group work meetings, but I managed to pass all my courses and keep a semblance of a high GPA.
Unfortunately, I no longer carried the 4.0 of my first two years. Still, a 3.68 was not that bad while juggling a newborn that I gave birth to that semester. I was surprised that it didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. A 4.0 was nice to have, but nothing remotely compared to my daughter — our daughter.
Things were well for Paul, Patty, and I. The baby was healthy, Paul was working as a reporter, and I had gotten through my junior year just fine. But I was thinking of the future. Once I graduated, Paul planned on applying for work in Jacksonville. A classmate of Paul’s worked there and was confident he could get Paul a job. But I worried about the newspaper employee benefits. One does that when they have a child.
Paul and I would be married after I graduated, but by then, I would no longer be on my father’s generous health plan, which had paid for the pregnancy and delivery bills. Paul and I had talked about having another child then stopping at two. After the second child, I would wait until they were old enough for daycare for me to start working. By my reckoning, the faster I had both children, the sooner I could return to work. That meant having another child while I was at the university before we married and moved.
The big question was daycare for Patty. The woman in our building was unsure she could handle it, so I called my mother and explained my predicament.
“I’ll pay for it,” mom said before I even asked. “Find a reputable daycare center and send me the billing information. I’ll pay the monthly bill.”
“Mom, I’ll pay you back. I promise.”
“No. It’s on me. That’s my first grandchild. And if you have another, they will probably be the only ones your father and I will ever have.”
“Why do you say that?”
There was a slight hesitation on mom’s side of the call.
“Paula, your brother… Bill is gay.”
“What!”
“He told us last month.
“But Bill had girlfriends. You caught him having sex with Jenny Alvarez upstairs!”
“Well, that was then. Bill said he was… trying it out. He wanted to make sure by doing a girl. Never mind that. So he is gay and doesn’t ever want kids. So you and Paul are our only hope for grandchildren. So I’m going to pay for your childcare and won’t take no for an answer.”
Trying to digest the new information about my brother, I wondered what I had missed. Bill had never shown any feminine or gay tendencies around me. The guy was a jock. A chip off the old block as far as dad was concerned. I guess we had all been wrong, and it had taken Bill going to college to figure it out, or maybe sooner. Making a mental note to get in touch with Bill, I thanked mom, and we finished our conversation.
Paul was uncertain about us having another child right away. The usual questions about if I could handle a child, pregnancy, and my last year in college I answered one by one. What did not come up in the conversation was my sex drive during pregnancy. And this was another reason why I had wanted to have another child so quickly.
Knowing the pregnancy-induced high sex drive was highly likely and Paul’s Madona Syndrome reaction to my pregnancy, I knew I would most likely need Frank’s services again. The last thing I needed was for me to have to find a man to provide me with hard sex during pregnancy in a new town – sex by a man other than my husband, of all things.
Some may think that was easy, but I had been with enough men to know that most were not like Frank or Garry. Jerry was a close third, but the chances of finding one of them in a new town were slim. As the saying goes ‘one has to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince.’ In my case, Frank was a known entity and willing to help. And I planned to tap into his friendship and the benefits that came with.
With everything planned, all that was left for Paul and I was to get yours’s truly pregnant again. I’ll say this about Paul, all it took was a week-long vacation to Key West, and the deed was done. Once again, I missed my period and spent a month-plus with morning sickness — which was not always in the morning.
That fall, I returned for the last time to classes for my senior year. And once again, I was pregnant and horny as hell. I once again aced my courses, managing another 4.0 GPA semester. Having patty in daycare took a load off my mind to focus on school. And once again, noons were spent on Frank’s office couch.
Having warned him that I would need his services again, he bought that well-needed furniture second-hand and delivered it to his office for our carnal comfort. By the time I was ready to deliver baby Ben, Frank and I had put it to good use time and time again. Frank had turned out to be not just a lover and a teacher, but hands down my best friend during my college years. He understood my needs and my intentions to marry Paul after my graduation. Frank never denigrated Paul or asked me to leave him. In the end, he wished me well as I prepared to leave college and move on with life.
Paul and I got married, then moved to Jacksonville a month after graduating. No time for a honeymoon. Paul had started work there the week before I arrived with the kids and a truck full of our stuff. I have to say, my mom and dad outdid themselves by cosigning on the mortgage of our new home in a suburban subdivision.