Doctor Babymaker
Of course, I was anything but cookie-cutter, especially after the Navy and after my time on the road in the pro leagues. I was not white picket fence guy, or pot-luck dinner with the neighbors guy, or hell, a marriage guy.
But hey, there we were, and where that was, I wasn’t even sure anymore. I don’t think she did, either.
And then we had things like the BBQ earlier that day, and the whole storm of “what the fuck” that came with it. A whole shit-storm of confusion and roaring hormones like I was some kind of teenager again. And that storm had a name:
Chelsea McKenzie.
I mean Jesus fuck, when had that girl - no, woman - when had she become a woman? And when the hell had she gotten so hot? It was almost criminal is what it was; almost literally, actually. But somehow, right next door, cute little Chelsea McKenzie had gotten jailbait hot, and that was a problem.
It wasn’t like she’d suddenly grown tits or anything, or wild curves like some men go for. I mean shit, she was still rail-thin, with small tits and tiny little ass I could probably palm with one hand. But somehow, she was womanly in her litheness; all soft, demure curves and soft swells, like some sort of runway model without all the bullshit attitude. Actually, the way she carried herself was like she didn’t even know how hot she’d gotten; how fucking tempting she’d turned. She was light, and youthful, but then there was something so much more adult about her. She was smart as a whip, and she read intelligent, nerdy things like Isaac Asimov for fuck’s sake. She was a total nerd in a sense, of course, but there was something about that girl that got me hard as fucking stone. She’d somehow gotten herself hot, and hot in a way where she sure as shit didn’t know it.
But, I sure knew it, and that was the problem.
It hadn’t happened overnight, I knew that. I’d slowly started eyeing her in ways I seriously shouldn’t have ever since she’d turned eighteen, and not in a creeper way, just in this “you can’t help but see it” way. I’m only a man for fuck’s sake. But seeing her at that BBQ really hammered things in.
And I really shouldn’t have hugged her, that’s for damn sure. The feel of her warm body and her soft skin under my hands, the way she giggled into me and the way her whole face lit up with that hug. I mean, Jesus, I was like some sort of horny high school boy with a damn boner and a crush; tied up in a way I really wasn’t used to when it came to women.
So that’s where my damn head was, standing in the buff in my backyard after Lenore had gone back inside. I knew we probably shouldn’t have been outside doing that, and that I should probably have had some fucking pants on at that point, but I stayed another minute, letting the thoughts percolate.
Lenore had taken my moodiness that night as being in that kind of a mood, and then my hard-on thinking about Chelsea McKenzie as something else.
“Oh, good, we can try tonight.”
The baby. Jesus, the baby we “had” to have, according to her parents. Like this was some sort of feudal land and we needed an “heir” to carry on the the name and title or something. I mean this was Florida for fucks sake, not Camelot.
It was the baby neither of us wanted to have; at least, not with the other. Hell, I’d have loved to be a father. I’d wanted to be one for years, and getting married had probably had a bit to do with that, at least subconsciously. But with Lenore? Her, a mother? No fucking way; not a chance. It was laughable if you’d met her for even five minutes; the woman didn’t have a warm bone in her whole body.
And I don’t know what had possessed us to be outside like that that night. Too hot, too much wine, a last shot at trying to make things hot and romantic maybe? But there was no romance, no seduction with this woman; anymore, or ever before, actually. With her that night it was pajama pants off, bending over chair and turning to just say “Do it, Jake.” And she wasn’t bending over to be sexy, she was doing it because - well, my guess is because she didn’t want to look at me. She just wanted the act, and the result, and that’s all.
Welcome to life at forty, Jake Harding.
And then it was done, as fast as both of us could make it. She left and I was sitting there with my cock out under the night sky getting hard all over again thinking about my barely legal, next door neighbor. My buddy’s daughter.
Chelsea.
Fuck.
Like I said, this was going to be a problem. Thank God she was about to go away to school. Out of sight, and out of mind, and I could just go on with my strange, unsatisfying life.
4
Chelsea
Two weeks later, I was off to school a thousand miles away. I'd only seen Mr. Harding a handful of times since the night of my birthday, though every time, I'd blushed and stammered even more around him. I couldn't even look his wife Lenore in the eye when they'd come over for dinner a few days before I left.
School was tough, and definitely kept me busy. It was also another whole world entirely from the small town I'd come from. Where I'd been gawky, a little shy, and thought of myself as an outsider back home, at school, I seemed to come into my own almost right from the start! I’d gotten my braces off right before I left, and within weeks, I was also taking the time to style my hair a little better in the mornings, I’d started buying clothes that flattered my slender, not-very-curvy frame, and even started making a point of trying to be social with people. It wasn't that I was changing who I was in any sort of bad way, I was just finally realizing who I was and what I was capable of.
There were boys, of course; especially when I'd started to dress better and go out to social events. And it was flattering, and exciting to suddenly have real male attention for the first time in my life. But as ardent and as tempting as some of those boys were, I kept thinking of them as just that; boys. In my head, and in my heart, there was still only one man I wanted, even if he was more than a thousand miles away, married, and my dad's best friend and neighbor.
Man, talk about a stacked deck.
But still, I pined for Jake Harding all those nights away at school. Sure, I went on dates, and I even had quite a few hot and heavy nights of making out with boys. But it never went further than that, I made sure. Ok, so there was a teeny bit of schoolgirl crush left in me for Jake, but it's not like I was saving myself for him or anything. It's just that none of the other guys I met at school did it for me like, well, Jake had.
And so I went through the first semester like that; a couple hot, steamy make-out dates, followed by many a night of me quietly fingering my tight slit to a clenching, seizing orgasm while my roommate snored across the room.
And I thought of Jake, and that big beautiful cock of his every single time.
As time went on, another thought slowly began to take root in my head. As I kept saying no to boys, and as my own confidence kept growing, I knew that really, there was only one man I wanted to give that special gift to. It became all I thought about, my every and only fantasy. I knew then that as improbable as it was - as crazy as it was - I wanted my first time to be with Mr. Harding; older man, married man, neighbor, and best friend to my father.
Now, how on earth I'd possible get that to happen was another question, and so for the time, it was just a fantasy.
"Oh! We forgot to tell you the news, Chelsea!" My mom added quickly, right as I was about to hang up the phone.
"Jake and Lenore are expecting a baby!"
I froze on the edge of my small little dorm room bed as the words came through the receiver.That now familiar feeling of paralyzing and heart-sinking jealousy mixed with a deep, groaning needy throb in my pussy whenever I thought of the two of them, hit me hard.
"Oh?" I managed to croak out. "How long-"
"Just about three and a half months; isn't that exciting?!"
I did the math quickly in my head and my jaw dropped right there. Three and a half months was the end of August.
No way! I shook my head to myself. There was just no way I'd managed to watch them the very night they'd gotten pregnant...
…Had I?
The thought made my whole body buzz with a strange sort of lustful excitement. On the one side, if Jake and Lenore were having a baby, that was really the end of my silly little day-dream fantasies of running away with Jake, and that sort of stung. But on the other hand, the idea that I may have literally watched Jake shoot his cum into his wife and impregnate her right in front of my eyes that night had my body tingling all over.
Winter break rolled around and I was heading back home for the holidays. Gone was the gawky, geeky, fumbling skinny kid. Instead, when I stepped out of the airport back into the muggy Florida heat, I was a whole new girl.
Even Dennis, my annoying little shit of a brother complimented me in his own way.
"Wow, you don't look like a homeless girl anymore, Chelsea.”
Thanks, Dennis.
My mom and dad were, of course, a lot more fussy over me about my new haircut, the nicer way I was dressing, and even the confident way I carried myself as we ate dinner that night at our favorite family spot on the way home from the airport.
"Oh, you don't have to say a thing honey," my mother had gushed to me across the table. She'd leaned over and winked at me conspiratorially. “I bet it's a boy, isn't it?"
Hmm, well, sort of.
"Well I want to meet this kid then, and make sure he's treating my daughter like the lady she is!" My dad piped up, grinning.
The whole plane-ride home, I'd been thinking about seeing Mr. Harding again for the first time in months. Even now, so many months later, I could still perfectly picture his naked, muscled body as he pumped his wife full of his thick cock and his potent cum out there in the backyard. I'd actually started to put it out of my head at dinner; that was, until my mom brought me right back to it.
“So, uh, how are the Hardings?”
“Oh, that poor man!” My mom put her fork down and shook her head. “I guess we completely forgot to tell you, Chelsea.” She and my dad shared a look before she turned back. “Jake and Lenore are…separating for a little while.”
I was aware of more words coming out of people’s mouths, but I was very suddenly in my own head somewhere. All of a sudden, every single inappropriate little fantasy I’d ever had about Jake Harding and pushed to the back of my mind came roaring up to the foreground. Every single school-girl fantasy of “running away” with the handsome older man next door was suddenly just a little closer to my outstretched fingers.
Suddenly, I frowned, my fork still halfway between my plate and my mouth. “Wait, weren’t they going to have a baby?”
My dad muttered something under his breath and my mom just shook her head. “Well, Lenore is having a baby-”
“She stepped out on the poor guy is what happened,” my dad said through clenched teeth, shaking his head. “Poor son of a bitch.”
“Michael!” My mom raised her eyebrows at my dad before turning back to me. “Well, I don’t want to gossip, but word around the neighborhood is it was a work thing. The whole thing came out when she had to admit the baby wasn’t Jake’s.”
It felt like my whole world was shaking up around me. Here I was, a new girl, with a new spring in her step and a new view of the world. And I came home for winter break to find the impossible man next door was just a little bit less impossible.
Just a little bit, at least.
I felt a little guilty too, since my thoughts immediately went to the glimmer of an open door to Mr. Harding, and not sympathy at how he must be feeling in the wake of this betrayal. But as silly as it was to even hope that this was going to lead somewhere, there it was. Lenore was gone, Jake was probably lonely, and I was suddenly even more nervous about seeing him again.
5
Jake
Fuck, she was home.
It’s a weird feeling, being crawling-out-of-your-skin excited and yet utterly dreading seeing someone. Someone Like Chelsea McKenzie, specifically.
The past three months had been basically a blur, and I felt like it was literally hearing Mike and Sarah talking about their little girl coming home last week that started to get me out of it.
Lenore; fuck, man. I can’t say I would’ve never seen it coming, but something like that knocks you sideways no matter how on the rocks your marriage might be. Okay, so I was pissed about it, for sure. I mean I gave that woman the world; money, a great house, sex whenever she was looking for it. And I never stepped out on her. Alright, fine, I fantasized like a fucking pervert about the sexy little bait living next door, but I never did anything about it.
Well, except jerk my cock probably four times a week thinking about her. Thinking about her prancing around in those skin-tight little one-piece bathing suits out by the pool that I know she wore because she thought they were more modest.
They weren’t, not on a girl who looked like that.
And shit, it’s not like Lenore was exactly calling for it every night. So fuck her, and fuck the dick from her office she ended up with, I thought. She could be as frigid and bitchy with him as she was with me, and that’d be karma enough.
Truth be told, at the place our relationship was at when the end came, the only thing I was really and truly pissed about was the kid. I mean shit, I wanted kids. I’d wanted ‘em for a while, actually, but Lenore was always iffy about it. Finding out we were expecting though had been one of the best days of my life.
Of course, finding out a few weeks later that it was that jerk-off’s and not mine was basically the opposite. Talk about a mind-fuck, man.
After that, the whole thing sort of collapsed like the house of cards it was. There was no “couples counseling”, no reconciliation after that. No need for it, really. We’d signed a prenup before we got married, so that settled that. Lenore took off and moved in with jerk-off, I kept the house, and slowly over the next few months, I just adjusted to being a bachelor. Sleep late, work from home, grow a beard, work out whenever I wanted, jerk off whenever I wanted; yeah, I had it set up pretty good. Not a care in the world, a new lease on life, and zero distractions.
That is, until I found out when she was coming back. Because after that? Fuck, after that, it was like everything got turned around all over again. I was excited to see her, and it made me feel like a seriously dirty old man. ‘Cause I wasn’t just missing her being around and reading books on her back porch, or coming over to say hi, or helping her change her first flat in the driveway.
Nope.
What I missed about Chelsea was see her swimming in the pool in those tight little bathing suits. I missed her not knowing that when she left the blinds open in the upstairs bathroom, I could see her from my study when she stepped out of a shower.
I miss sneaking glimpses of that tight little ass, ‘cause I could watch a girl like that walk away all fuckin’ day.
Except she wasn’t walking away this time. Nope, this time, she was coming back. And this time, I was hard as a damn stone just waiting to see her again. Because this time, there was no Lenore. This time, there was one less obstacle between me and that barely legal pussy that I had on the brain bad.
And this time, I was going to do something about it.
6
Chelsea
It was two days later when Jake invited the whole family over to his house for dinner. It was also the first time I was going to see Jake since before I'd left for school.
I'm not going to lie, I made myself look good before we went over that night, and I did it entirely for him. Dinner was going to be casual, but I still put on a sexy, yet not slutty short skirt and wide-necked shirt that hung off my shoulders. It managed to flatter my slender form instead of highlighting my lack of, well, much of a bust up there. I even slipped on one of the thong panties I’d bought at school, blushing. A thong was hardly something I’d have worn back in high school, and even now it wasn’t anything I’d bought for anyone. But feeling that thin, tiny piece of fabric tight against my bare slit always made me feel an extra bit sexy, and I wanted to feel sexy tonight.
My heart hammered as we walked across our yard t
o his and my stomach flip flopped when my dad rang the doorbell.
The door swung open, and there he was, looking gorgeous as ever. Crisp white button-up shirt stretched tight across his broad tanned chest and shoulders and a casual pair of jeans.
"Hey guys! Come on in Mike! Sarah, Dennis, and-" He froze mid sentence as he focused on me, and I could see him stumbling for his words as his eyes went wide.
"Chelsea! Wow, hey!” He finally stammered out, his eyes quickly moving over my body before he seemed to catch himself. I blushed under his wide-eyed stare, his mouth hanging slightly open as his gaze ran up and down the whole new girl standing before him.
"Man, what do they feed them at school, huh Mike?" He suddenly tore his eyes away from me with strange look in his eyes as he elbowed my dad in the ribs.
"Come on in guys, food's just about done!"
Jake stepped aside and ushered us in with gusto. As I stepped past him into the house, I felt a thrill rush through me, his gaze lingering until I was burning.
We milled around, talking, me filling everybody in on the usual "how's school" questions before we sat down for lasagna. And it was then that I started to notice something. Much to my glee, Jake Harding could not keep his eyes off of me. I thought at first I was just hopefully imagining it. But the more it kept happening - the more I kept just missing his eyes on me as I'd turn, or his lingering smile as I recounted a story about school or class - the more sure I was, and it made me glow inside. I - the geeky, scrawny girl from next door - actually had Mr. Harding's attention!
After we were finished with dinner, my dad and Jake walked over to the bar cart in the corner of his living room. Dad was patting his back and nodding emphatically as they talked just out of earshot of the rest of us, and it occurred to me that we’d all pointedly avoided talking about Lenore all night. I took the moment to volunteer to clear the table.