Caring Christopher

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#27 The big talk


Panting, I roll off Abby, only to snuggle into her from the side, my head on her breast. The bed is a complete mess by now, and I feel like she’s drained me of every last drop after this third round, yet I’m already hoping we will get to do this again soon. Real soon.

“Oh, I’d kill for a cigarette right now,” she breathes, stroking my hair softly.

“A cigarette?” I repeat, thinking I must have heard her wrong. “You smoke?”

She laughs and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Not anymore. I used to smoke when I was in high school and at the start of college. I guess it was the one thing I could do to rebel. I couldn’t exactly kick off like Jagger since I always had to be home with my mother, but I felt the same need to break free and do stupid shit, so I started smoking.”

“Do you miss it?” I shift so I can look at her, wondering what else I don’t know about her. I feel like I know her soul, but at the same time she’s a mystery. I can’t wait to uncover every single part of her.

“I haven’t smoked in eight years,” she says, pausing to kiss me, moaning against my lips. “And hell yeah, I miss it. Don’t worry, though, I’m not going to pick it up again.”

“So I don’t need to pull the doctor card and show you pictures of blackened diseased lungs?” I ask teasingly, pressing kisses to her breast and running my tongue over the taut bud. I can’t get enough of her, even though we’ve been at it for hours already, and her voice is hoarse from screaming and moaning so much.

“Well, doctor, I think I know all about the risks of smoking, but I could definitely use a thorough full-body examination,” she teases, pushing my hair out of my face so she can look into my eyes. “If I’d know you were a goddamn sex god, I would’ve started sleeping with you months ago. Seriously, dude, you’ve got mad skills.”

I smile at that. No one has ever called me a sex god. I’ve never felt like one either, but with Abby it all just seems to klick in a way it never did with anyone before, not even with my ex-wife, who I loved dearly. I know myself better now than when I got married at 25, and I’m comfortable with who I am, which makes it easier to just let go. Abby makes it easy as well, being so honest and vocal about her desires. There’s no need to guess at what she wants. The sounds she makes leave no room for guessing, and she’s not afraid to tell me to go slower, faster, softer, harder…

God, I want her again.

“Chris,” she breathes when I move a hand down between her legs and start teasing her, slipping two fingers inside of her and curling them slightly. “Oh God, Chris.”

I kiss my way down her body, working on her with my tongue and fingers in a torturously slow pace, stopping every time I can feel her getting close. She’s so responsive, even to the lightest of touches, and she gives herself to me completely, without reservations. I love this. I want this every night. I never want to be without the beautiful woman.

She falls apart with a loud shriek, shuddering beneath me. Her hands tug at my hair, trying to pull me away, but I don’t budge and keep licking and rubbing, making her come again only a minute later. Her body all but melts into the matrass, and she keeps making high-pitched moaning sounds that turn me on more than anything, making me want to push into her and get off too, but I don’t. Instead, I make her come again. And again. And again.

“Stop,” she pants, convulsing as she comes down from her high. “I can’t take any more, Chris.”

“One more?” I ask, pressing a kiss to her wet core, my tongue flicking out over her swollen bud. She tastes sweet, and I know I will never get enough of her. I’m not sure how serious she is about me, but I know this is it for me. If this doesn’t work out, I’m not even going to try again. She’s it. I want her in every single way. She already asked me to be her boyfriend, but I know that won’t be enough for me. I want it all. Abby in a white dress, pledging her undying love for me. Her belly swollen with my baby, raising Jagger, Yoah, Davy and our biological kids together.

She falls apart again, tears streaming down her face as she begs me to stop, her voice so hoarse I can barely hear her. I move my body over hers, groaning when my cock moves over her wet folds, and then I’m inside of her, enjoying how warm and tight she is.

“Ah!” she exclaims when I start moving, her legs wrapping around me. She’s still crying from the intensity, but these are the good kind of tears. I pause for a moment to wipe her face clear of them, kissing her softly, trying to convey to her how much she means to me.

“I love you,” I murmur against her parted lips. “So much, Abby.”

“Hmm,” she replies, her eyes rolling back in her head when I pick up the pace, enjoying the moans I manage to tease out of her. She’s spent, her body can’t take anymore, but we both keep going, her walls tightening around me just when I’m about to come, pushing me over the edge.

“Okay,” she whimpers when I pull out. “I love this, but four times is enough, Chris. I can’t anymore. I need some rest. I’m so raw it hurts.”

“Sorry.” I pull her against me, not wanting any space between us. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, baby,” she says, yawning. “It was totally worth it.” Then, suddenly, her eyes fly wide open and she gasps. “Fuck, we’re not using a condom!”

I hadn’t even stopped to think about protection, to be honest. Not even a second. That’s so unlike me. I’m a very careful person, not one to get caught up in the moment, but I can’t help it with Abby. Besides… if she ends up pregnant… that would be perfectly fine with me. In fact, I’d be ecstatic. I can tell from the panicked look in her eyes that she doesn’t agree, and I get that. With her mother’s disease and the uncertainty about her having the same genetic disposition, I get that being pregnant would be scary for her. Besides, we only just got together, and we’ve only known each other for two and a half months.

“Are you on anything?” I ask, watching her scramble out of bed, looking for… well, I don’t know what she’s looking for.

“Yeah, the pill,” she says, grabbing her purse. “I take it religiously, but I haven’t taken it yet tonight. I’ve got a strip in my wallet.” She moves to the bathroom to get a glass of water and gulps it down as she swallows her birth control pill. She fills the glass again and hands it to me, and I drink eagerly, dehydrated from hours of her and me exploring each other’s body.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m clean?” I ask her as she scrawls back into bed and pulls me into her arms.

Abby laughs, her green eyes sparkling. “Chris, I think it’s safe to say you’re not riddled with STDs. If you are, I think that means the world must be ending tonight, because there is just no way you would be that careless with me. I bet you get regular health check-ups, right?”

She’s right. I’m very careful, and I had a full check-up before accepting my foster kids, because I wanted to be sure I was in good shape before taking in Davy and Yoah. Besides, where would I even get an STD? I haven’t been with many women in my life, and I’m usually careful.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m clean?” she teases.

I roll my eyes, not worried about that in the slightest. “Sure. You told me earlier that you’ve only been with five guys before me, and that you haven’t had sex in over a year. That just screams STD risk.”

She giggles. “Oh Chris, I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

We both laugh, knowing that I couldn’t talk dirty even if I wanted to. Telling her what I want to do to her, sure. Putting it into action, hell yeah. But true dirty talk? Nah. Chloe liked that, wanted me to be tough with her, call her a dirty little slut and to degrade her, but I couldn’t do that. I don’t like talking to women like that. I want to worship Abby, not call her names or tell her that she’s completely at my mercy or anything. She’s not. She’s her own person, and a damn strong one at that.

“Chris…” Abby yawns, but her eyes are serious, and I can tell she’s going to say something important, to I pull back a little so I can take in her expression better. She’s nervous about something, that’s clear to see. “How is this going to work? I mean… I work for you, and now we’re together. Should I… find another job?”

“Please don’t,” I plead, touching her face gently. “That would mean we’d see less of each other and I would have to find another nanny. I don’t think anything needs to change. Well, I’d like it if you’d sleep in my room with me if you want that too, but other than that… Things are pretty good the way they are, right?”

She smiles. “Yeah, they are. I just feel a little weird knowing you pay me for my… services.”

“Honey, I don’t pay you for sex. I only pay you to take care of the kids, and I don’t pay you nearly enough if you ask me, since you go above and beyond for the three of them and you take of Dorothy as well.” I caress her face, hoping she knows that I’m serious about her. That I would never want to make her feel like she has to do anything she doesn’t want to. “Look, it’s only going to be like this for a little while, right? We can just keep things the way they are when it comes to your job and living situation. I’ve pretty much been acting like you’re the kids’ mother anyway. You’ve been helping me raise them every step of the way, so it’s not like you truly shifting from being the nanny to my girlfriend, since I think we’ve both been acting like you already were.”

“True,” she breathes, frowning a little. “What do you mean, it’s only going to be like this for a little while?”

“Well, eventually, when we’ve been together for a while and things are good…” I hesitate, not wanting to shoot myself in the foot by being too forward with her.

“Oh,” she says, looking a little spooked. “You’re talking marriage?”

“Well… yeah.”

“Oh wow.” Abby sits up, settling against the headboard with the blanket pulled up so her body is hidden from view. It’s clear to see she needs a moment to process this. Maybe I’m talking about these things too early on, but I do think it’s important she knows what I want. That I’m serious about her and want her in my life in the realest way possible.

“I’m not saying it has to be soon,” I say softly when she doesn’t speak up. “We can take things as slow as you want to. I’m just saying… You told me once that in an ideal world, you would be a stay-at-home mother or a teacher, right? I’d be happy to let you do either. If you ever want to go back to college, I will gladly help you out with that. And if you want to stay home and take care of Jagger, Yoah and Davy – if they get to stay with us, that is – that would be good to. We could take in more foster kids if we want to, or adopt, or…”

Her gaze locks with mine when she realizes what I’m saying. “You want kids.”

I shrug. “That’s not exactly a secret, is it?”

“Chris, I can’t…” Tears well up in her eyes and she hugs her knees to her chest. She looks so scared and broken right now, but I can tell she doesn’t want me touching her, so I stay where I am, giving her a moment. “I told you about my mother and you need to understand… I was serious when I told you I can’t do that to a kid. It’s bad enough that I might do that to Jagger, Davy and Yoah if you and I work out and we keep taking care of them. You and me… We’re not…” She swallows and I can tell she’s on the verge of crying. “If you want kids of your own, it won’t be with me.”

“Okay.” I want to tell her that she should get tested so she’ll know if she’s got the gene, that she might be fine after all, but I know now is not the time. She needs to know I’m in this even if she will eventually forget who I am long before she’s old and gray. She needs to know I want her even if we will never have kids of our own. And I do. I really do.

“Okay?” she repeats, studying my face.

“I’m okay with that,” I assure her, reaching out to take her hand. “I made my peace with not having kids of my own a long time ago. My ex-wife was infertile, and we broke up because she didn’t want to foster or adopt. I already knew back then that I wanted and needed kids, but they don’t to be biologically mine. I’d love to have a baby with you, but I’m perfectly fine if we don’t. I just want you, and the weird little family we’ve somehow already created together.”

“Oh,” she breathes, looking relieved. “Okay. Good. But Chris, you need to know… what we’re doing… It’s not really going anywhere.”

“What?” I ask, my heart breaking. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll end up having to put me in a group home, like I did with my mother,” she says, trying so hard to keep herself from falling apart that her expression is tense and her hand squeezes mine so tight it hurts. “It might happen soon, or in ten years, or twenty, but chances are it will happen. I will forget your name, and I won’t remember anything about the family we built, the life and love we shared. I won’t remember this night we just shared, how wonderful you are…” A tear slips our and she wipes it away angrily. “It’s not fair to you. Loving me isn’t easy.”

I smile at that and pull her against me, relieved when she melts into me, her arms going around my neck as she sobs against my shoulder. “Abby, loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. No relationship is without troubles. People get sick, and sometimes they even die. I’m a doctor, I know this better than anyone. I lose kids in my OR every week. We’ve got a dying woman in our home right now, who will probably take her last breath next week. Who knows, maybe I’ll be gone in ten years, and you’ll be left with whichever kids we’ll have running around at that time. You can’t plan for stuff like that. All I know is that I love you. I want you, and I’m not giving up on us just because things might get rough at one point.”

“Are you sure?” Her voice is trembling. “I’ve got a lot of baggage, Chris. There are girls out there much better suited for you, who don’t break apart every few days, who can give you a house full of kids.”

“Abby, I’m turning 46 next month,” I say with a smile. “I finally feel like I’m living the life I was always meant to have. The kids, you… That’s what I want. Why would I go searching for one of the girls you seem to think are out there waiting for me, when I’ve got the amazing, perfect woman right here in my arms, and I’m so in love with her that I don’t even know what to do with myself?”

“Okay,” she says, no longer crying when she sits up straight, a small smile on her tear-stained face. “Then let’s do it. Baby steps, though, or I’ll freak out. I’m really fucking happy we’re on the same page when it comes to the future, but I don’t want to talk about this again for at least a couple of months, okay? Let’s just focus on getting to know each other, finding out what life in the house with the kids is like when we’re dating, and take it from there.”


We kiss softly, and I can feel in my bones this will work. We both deserve this relationship to flourish, and we’ve got three kids back home who will be better for it. Abby and I will get through whatever life throws at us.

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