Copyright © 2016 by: Bink Cummings
3: 24 A.M.
Laying on my side in bed, seized by pain, my hand cups my rock-hard belly. Another damn contraction… It’s time…
At forty-one weeks and counting I knew I was going to give birth any day now. My midwife had threatened two days ago that if I hadn’t walked, jumped, or fucked this baby outta me in the next seven days I was gonna be induced without question. With a softened cervix and four centimeters of dilation, she said it was a good sign. But my Braxton Hicks have been inconsistent, yet, overbearingly painful for the past two and a half weeks.
Last night, my sister Jo and her mother Mandy cooked up a delicious homemade meal here at our house. Where Daddy, Jizz, Gunz, Beth, Jonesy, Big, and I all gathered ‘round our formal dining table to break bread. Or in this case to devour a hardy helping of lasagna, salad, and garlic bread on our stoneware plates.
The severe spams started right as dessert was served. Even though the pecan pie looked yummy, fresh from the oven, I couldn’t eat any. The pain robbed me of my appetite.
“I think I should lay down,” I said scooting my chair out from under the table as Jo plated slices of pie and topped them with canned whipped cream—my favorite.
Seated next to me, Big immediately slid his out, too and stood beside me, offering me his hands. Which I gratefully accepted and allowed him to pull me to stand.
Curling me to his side he kissed my damp forehead. “Another contraction, Babe?” he soothed, lightly rubbing the side of my tight belly.
Turning into him I buried my face in his chest as my hands curled around Harley. Then, I nodded, while biting my bottom lip to suppress a groan of growing discomfort.
Engulfing me in his embrace, Big’s lips pressed into my hair. “Sugar Tit’s, it’s a bad one ain’t it?”
I couldn’t respond. My teeth gritted as a streak of pain shot through my back and into my stomach. I tried to breathe through it. I truly did. But it was hard. In through the nose and out through the mouth, my practiced breaths bathed Big’s t-shirt in hot air as I fought through the contraction, wishing it would go the hell away.
After the intensity had subsided we said our goodnights to everyone and Big escorted me to bed. Where he helped undress me and tucked me in, before removing his own clothes, sliding in beside me, and laying me so my head was snuggled on his chest, my leg strewn over his hip. That was merely hours ago.
Turning over, I peer at the alarm clock, it’s 3:24 in the morning. My eyes shift to Big who’s laying on his back fast asleep, with the blankets kicked down to his ankles, leaving me a gorgeous view of his prone body wearing only a pair of black skull boxers. Even in the darkness I find him sexy. How did I ever get so lucky?
It’s time, I can feel it, today is the day we are going to have our daughter. I just hope he can handle what’s about to come. Hell, I hope I can, too.
As quietly as possible I slide off the bed and tiptoe to the bathroom, trying not to wake Big. Easing the door shut, I hold my breath as the ‘click’ snaps in place, then head to the tub. Tossing back the curtain I turn on the water. Before pulling the lever I run my fingers under the tap until it’s hot. As steam fills the room I carefully remove my panties and toss them into the hamper on the opposite side of the bathroom, trying not to topple over in the process. This big belly shit, is no joke. I’m a beached whale. Don’t laugh, it’s true.
Finally ready, I release a low grown and place my hand on the shower wall to use as leverage to help me inside. Agonizingly slow, I lower myself into sit tub, stretching my legs out straight as the water mollifies my tense frame...........