I’m Pregnant by JBEdwards

I’m Pregnant by JBEdwards

Yes, I was pregnant. And yes, I had not yet declared who the father was. And yes, the primary contender for father-of-my-baby was a creep. And yes, he could care less about the fetus that I claimed he might have helped to create. I’m sure he enjoyed, a lot, creating the fetus if, in fact, he actually did. I did, too, if orgasms are any indication. I just didn’t know what a creep he was at the time, as he didn’t pull out like he had promised, and just kept it in me, to the explosive end.

I know, I know. I should have made him wear a rubber, I should not have got drunk, and I should not have had sex. I know. I had thought about an abortion, but I’m poor, and I live in Texas, so there you are. I’m going to have someone’s baby, and the child will be mine, all mine, with no man to share it with, and that’s that.

I’m now at the very pregnant stage, six months, and since I’m skinny, I no longer have a prayer of hiding that I’m pregnant, even with my clever choice of clothing disguises. No, it’s obvious to everyone I’m baking a bundle of joy. I’m baking myself, too, because it’s hot and humid, and being pregnant just makes a girl hotter. I find myself shopping a lot for pregnancy clothes, just to enjoy the air conditioning of the mall.

Really, the only thing keeping me sane is Mark. He’s been my best friend since third grade, and he still is. Don’t believe the evil rumors people like to spread around, like that I’m a slut, and he’s gay. Okay, he’s not Mr. Texas Heteronormative, with his long hair and unorthodox views, but he’d be considered quite a reasonable masculine specimen if he were from, say, a San Francisco or a Portland kind of way. Or if he were from Greenwich Village in New York. And I’m not a slut, either, it’s just that I’m a bit easy when I’m drunk. And only when I’m drunk, which I almost never am!

“Why do you always call him asshole, Joanie? He has a name, you know,” Mark asked.

“Colin sounds too dignified. Besides, he’s obsessed with my asshole,” I said.

“What does that mean?” Mark asked. He made a grimace as if he were envisaging an asshole, filled with, well, shit. Mark can be so innocent at times. It’s part of his charm.

I just looked at Mark. Mark looked right back at me. Finally, I broke the tension first.

“The only kind of sex he ever wants to have is blowjobs and anal sex,” I said. “I’m not sure if he’s ever even fucked my vagina.”

Knowing I was six months pregnant, Mark quipped, “Well he must have fucked you in the pussy six months ago, I guess.” Lest he was too subtle, Mark patted my swollen tummy. I was carrying my baby relatively high.

“Mark you’ve known me almost all of our lives. Do you really think I’d let an asshole like Asshole knock me up?” I asked.

“Well, I’m assuming you were drunk, told him to pull out, and …”

“Don’t be stupid. I would never trust Asshole to pull out. He’s too much of an asshole to trust like that,” I said.

“But if you were drunk, your judgement would be … ”

“I never get that drunk. Getting drunk allows me to be the relaxed slut I want to be about sex, but it doesn’t make me stupid. It’s always, always, a rubber or a diaphragm, or both. Of course, now that I’m pregnant, even very pregnant, and I can’t get any more pregnant, I’m free to fuck anyone I want, with no worries, other than STDs,” I said. “And Asshole still only wants anal sex. To hell with him.”

“Joanie, dear, I’m confused. If Asshole, I mean Colin, always only has anal sex, then who got you pregnant?” Mark, the dear, sweet innocent asked me.

“Yeah, it’s unlikely, but I guess you can get pregnant with anal sex. Maybe some of the guy’s spunk could drip out and roll down to the vagina. They are placed near to each other, you know. So maybe it’s possible?”

“That’s gross. How can you even think that?” Mark said.

“Look, I’m desperate here. I’m pregnant, no question. I mean, look at me, for God’s sake! I’m so fat! Somehow, I got knocked up, but I didn’t have unprotected sex with him six months ago. I didn’t even have unprotected sex at all, except for Asshole always fucking my ass,” I said. “Unless … ”

Mark began to look very nervous. I knew why. He was beginning to remember. He too had been very drunk, even drunker than I was; he had been blackout drunk.

“Joanie, this is very embarrassing. I’m even ashamed to ask it. I remember Alvin and Lorrie’s party, six months ago. I got drunk on my ass, and I cannot remember hardly anything that happened at that party. I know something happened involving you and me, because Doug teases me about it, but I just can’t remember!” Mark said.

“I mean, you’re like a sister to me, a beloved sister, and we’ve known each other all of our lives, and told each other everything, and …”

“Not everything. I haven’t told you everything, Mark,” I said. “I have some secrets.”

“Nor I, you,” Mark replied, a bit too quickly.

“To answer the question you cannot bring yourself to ask me, and it’s a question that is too horrible to ask, I agree, so let me say right now …”

“Joanie, do you love Colin?”

“No, of course not,” I said, surprised Mark had interrupted me as I was about to drop a bomb. Well, maybe that’s exactly why he interrupted me?

“Then why do you want to marry him?” Mark asked.

I stared at him, incredulity doubtless in my eyes. “Jesus, Mark, are you that dumb? I want the baby to have a father, and he’s the only guy I’m fucking these days, and the only guy I’ve been fucking for the last year; more or less. He’s the only candidate!”

“But you say he’s not the father?”

“Yeah, and so what?” I replied. “Maybe after the baby is born, he’ll move from my ass to my vagina and give the baby a sibling, you know? We’ll be a right family. We can change Asshole’s name from Colin to Virgil, or something. You know, with a ‘V,’ for vagina?”

“Or Victor?” Mark suggested. “Look, you shouldn’t marry someone you don’t love, just because he’s currently fucking you.”

“What’s the alternative?” I asked.

“Being a single Mom? Showering your baby with love?” Mark suggested, rather weakly, I thought. “Anyway, you said Colin doesn’t want to marry you.”

**

“This is probably not a good idea,” Mark said.

“It’s definitely not a good idea,” I replied. “It will ruin our wonderful relationship. I’m the only girl I know who has a man as her best friend, and doesn’t have sex with him. It’s a horrible idea.”

“Then why are we going to do it?” Mark asked.

“Don’t you want to? Am I that undesirable? It’s because this goddam pregnancy has made me so fat, isn’t it?” I asked, giving him my evil smile. “Wait a minute. The girls want to come out to play.” I slipped my blouse over my head and unhooked my bra, slipping its straps off my shoulders. The pregnancy had pushed my boobs up a cup size. I was now a delightful C cup. “Is it because I’m pregnant and fat and gross? I’m still the same Joanie you’ve always known.”

“Your boobs are gorgeous, Joanie,” Mark said.

“Haven’t you wanted to fuck me for years, already? I’ve seen it in your eyes, often enough. Stop, don’t apologize. I’ve enjoyed seeing your desire for me. A girl likes to be desired,” I said.

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