A Not So Meet Cute(63)

“Are you two nervous?” Ellie asks when she reaches us. She places her hand on Lottie’s arm in a comforting way. “I get it. I was nervous our first time too. It can be embarrassing, having to do all of these things in front of people, but I promise, you’re in a safe zone. And starting when you’re only eight weeks pregnant gives you more and more time to be comfortable.” She takes a ball from the ball rack and says, “I’ll bring this over for you two.”

When Ellie is out of earshot, Lottie turns toward me and says, “Thanks to the modern-day Stepford wife, we now know I’m eight weeks pregnant.” She lets out a deep breath. “And what the hell kind of things are we going to have to do in front of people?”

“I don’t know,” I say, eyeing the people in the circle. “Can’t be that bad, right?”





“Deep breath in and . . . deep breath out. That’s it, and when you’re ready, start to lightly pulse into your partner.” Lottie is beneath me, legs spread wide as can be, eyes a dangerous shade of bloodshed as she holds on to her knees and I press my jean-clad crotch against her pussy. “Connecting to that moment of conception will bring you closer and closer to the little seedling growing inside of you. Remember that night, the way you felt. Was it passionate? Was it seductive? What was involved? If you’re currently in the phases of trying to get pregnant, think about connecting with your partner. Eye contact. Always keep eye contact.”

Mouthing to me, Lottie says, “I want to die.”

I mouth back, “Right there with you.”

As we found out quickly, this is a class for everyone, not just people who are pregnant, but those who are trying as well. It’s not Lamaze, per se, it’s about learning to connect with your body and your partner, hence the sexual position I’m currently in.

“Dave, such a beautiful rhythm, and your eye contact with Ellie . . . I can feel your passion building up, your loins stirring as you prepare to give her your seed.”

Lottie bites down on her bottom lip as she attempts to keep it together.

“Such a beautiful image, Dave. Now, Ellie, please, with your head thrown back in passion, there has to be something you’re doing with your hands. Are you caressing your breasts? Reaching for Dave? The more you evolve this moment into the real thing, the more you will open your flower and receive all the love Dave has to give.”

Lottie whispers, “I’m going to throw up.”

Strained, I reply, “Shut the fuck up and look as if you’re enjoying my pulsing.”

“But I’m not. Your pulsing is anything but enjoyable.”

“Not what you said last night.”

Her eyes narrow. “You finger-fucked me, not pulsed with your pelvis. It’s different.”

I swallow wrong and start coughing, which of course brings the instructor’s attention to us. The jangling bracelets on her wrists announce her approach and I wince as I see her clogs come into view. Fuck.

“Our newest couple, Hanley and Lonnie. Now, you look uncomfortable.”

First of all, it’s Huxley and Lottie.

Second of all, we weren’t prepared for a goddamn orgy when coming to this class.

Third of all, yeah, we’re uncomfortable, because we’ve never conceived or attempted to, for fuck’s sake.

But I don’t say that. Instead, I smile and say, “I think we were drunk the night we conceived.”

“It’s why it took him so long to get it up,” Lottie says, and when I shoot her a scowl, she grins up at me.

“It didn’t take long, never takes long with her,” I say as I squeeze her sides, reminding her who we’re pulsing next to.

“Oh, a drunken night of debauchery. One of my favorite couplings, because nothing is off the table, right? Even going bareback, which I’m assuming is what happened?”

Kill.

Me.

Now.

“Yup,” Lottie says. “Totally. We’d been fornicating for quite some time before that, but all it took was one drunken night of Catch Phrase in the backyard with friends, and we were toast. Bumbling up the stairs, we made it all the way to our room completely clothed, and then, bam, I turned around and there was Huxley, standing naked, in all his glory. One look at his erection and I knew what I wanted. I remember saying ‘screw condoms’ and I threw them out the window before jumping this man. The lovely pool boy found them in the pool the next day. Said he had never fished out condoms before. He’s a nice lad.”

She’s babbling. Jesus Christ, she’s babbling.

“Oh, so you jumped him, then?” Heaven asks.

“Yes.”

There’s no point in stopping her.

“Therefore, would this have been the position you were in?”

“Actually, no,” Lottie says. “This isn’t the position we were in. I love being on top.”

Heaven laughs. “Well, that’s why this is awkward, because we aren’t thinking back to the actual day of conception. If you’re not re-creating it properly, then we aren’t connecting with our baby.” She motions at us with her hands. “Please, please, get up and try again. Really jump back to that night.”

“Should I get drunk?” I ask.

Heaven laughs again. “Wouldn’t that be a gas?”