It was an insane idea.
We all laughed at the craziness of the idea, and I looked around for Monique. She was still inside, and I was glad. It was one thing for Suzanne or anyone else to joke with me about a baby, but Monique would have been crushed.
I glanced up at Mila; her forehead was crinkled again as if in deep thought. Her eyes fluttered to meet mine, sensing my gaze. Without thinking, I smiled to reassure her and gave her a friendly wink, and immediately her face transformed: radiant.
“How about we get you a place to live first? And leave the baby making to me and Monique” I said. “Here’s to our new housemate. Welcome home, Roommie,” I said, laughed and rose my glass.
Mila returned the gesture and I stood and wrapped my arms around her again. She was warm, and she slid into my arms perfectly. With my hands close to her hips, I had a sudden flash of her pregnant, carrying my child. Blooming with promise.
Mila was healthy and, with the exception of her total addiction to junk food, took really good care of herself. Maybe the idea wasn’t so crazy after all; the seed had been planted.
I pulled back from her and looked into her eyes. She was looking at me with raised eyebrows and I wished I could read her thoughts.
5
Mila
Tossing in my bed, I threw the covers off my agitated body. I couldn’t sleep as I replayed the evening over in my head. Had Devan actually winked at me? Or was I imagining things? And I could’ve sworn he’d taken a peek at my chest. I blushed at the thought and put a hand over my mouth to stop from smiling. I was sick and twisted – I should not be grinning!
Eventually I must’ve drifted off, and wild dreams filled with rich tattoo-like colours - Devan’s hard body against mine - troubled my night’s rest, or should I say lack of it.
I awoke to the sound of soft moaning. It took my brain a second or two to realise the panting breaths that echoed around my small room were coming from my own open mouth.
My thighs pressed together, and my back arched as my clit pulsed. My fingers searched almost instinctively and found their way under the covers. I was so wet, my fingers were coated in my arousal, and it was all because of the one person who was front and centre, the leading man of my dreams tonight.
Devan.
Half-asleep, my lips breathed his name as the tip of my finger pushed into my opening. Pretending was OK, I told myself. I could pretend the lengths of my fingers that moved inside me, caressing my soft inner walls, were his cock. Thick and filling, his cock would satisfy my every need.
My hips moved in time with my plunging hand as my other hand, the pad of my thumb, worked the swollen nub. Faster and faster, no longer caring about the sounds emanating from my mouth. Mark had never made me this crazy or caused me to have wet dreams.
Wishing Devan was there with me, watching me, turned me on even more…
Clamping my eyelids shut, my body went rigid. My toes curled as I desperately tried to hold onto the cresting orgasm that was about to come crashing down.
With a last tap upon my clit and a final thrust of my fingers, I burst open, spilling juices into my hand.
I panted, lips pressed into the pillow, and I let myself feel every ricochet of pleasure that detonated inside me, all the while thinking of him.
My married stepbrother.
* * *
Hung-over and feeling a little guilty from the night before, I resolved to do something good. I couldn’t get the idea out of my idea. Me: pregnant?
Damn it, Suzanne!
It was madness, I knew it was but I was too curious to stop myself, and started researching information on the net about surrogacy.
It wouldn’t harm anyone if I took a look? Found out the ins and outs of what would bee involved, right?
As I researched, I felt a pit growing in my stomach.
The only pro seemed to be that Devan and Monique would get a baby. The cons, on the other hand… the internet was rife with descriptions of families who had spent all of their money on contracting with a surrogate and covering her medical expenses, and then the woman had refused to give up the baby. Obviously that wouldn’t happen if I offered to do it for them, would it?
But reading about some of the struggles the birth mothers felt was very real; I didn’t know how I would feel after carrying a baby, even one that wasn’t my own, for nine months. And what would we do at family gatherings? Would I be Aunt Mila?
Medical issues were another big one; no doctor could guarantee a surrogate mother would bring a baby to term. What if we went through everything, and I couldn’t deliver a healthy baby? I couldn’t put Devan and Monique through that. Hell, I couldn’t put myself through that. And what if I put myself in jeopardy for having my own kids one day? It’s not like I was dating anyone or getting even close to marriage, but I was young, and that was definitely on my list of dreams once I got a more stable job and the right man. Would I want to give someone else a baby at the cost of my own?