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Mine is a strange story to be sure. My name is Carrie. I am twenty-three, married to a wonderful man, and by anyone else’s account I have it all. Except for one thing that is. A baby. Carl and I have been married for two years. At 38, he is a decade and a half my senior. But it never seemed to matter.

He is a brilliant sociologist and professor at a major Southern university. His area of expertise is the segregated south. We had met when I took one of his courses during my sophomore year. I had begged and pleaded with my advisor to get me into that class even though it was usually reserved for juniors and seniors.

I loved that class. And idolized Carl. Surprisingly, despite my youth, I shone in that class. Perhaps because of my deep need to have this man’s approval. I quickly became his ‘class pet.’ And by the end of the semester his protégé. By my senior year, we had become lovers. He was my first. Having always been more the brain than the beauty. When I graduated, we married. I wanted to begin grad school, but Carl preferred that I assist him with his new text. His baby as he called it.

And that was always the reason he gave about why we should wait. To have a real baby that is. But then a little over a year and a half ago, he began to have some problems. You know…those kinds of problems. He didn’t want to go to the doctor. I begged and pleaded, but it wasn’t until he felt this pressure and had trouble even going to the bathroom that he finally gave in.

Cancer…prostrate cancer. For the next nine months it was surgery, chemo, and radiation. Funny isn’t it. Nine months. The same amount of time it would take to grow a baby was the amount of time it took to kill that dream. I would never have Carl’s baby. The cancer too advanced when they caught it for any possibility of that. But I had Carl. The man I loved and idolized. If we couldn’t have a baby, so be it. If he couldn’t…well…if he couldn’t, I hadn’t married him for sex anyway. I loved him.

I tried hard to support Carl. But he continued to draw away from me. Spending hours alone each night locked in his study on the Internet. I suggested that perhaps I go back to school. Get my masters or even my Ph.D. But he was against that saying he needed me now more than ever. But I felt useless. Nothing to do.

And that old demon began to haunt me. I would go out to lunch. The woman next to me held a small baby. I would almost cry. I would go for a run in the park. The strollers both calling to me and turning my stomach. It seemed that everywhere I went, everywhere I turned, there were big tummies. And it haunted my waking and sleeping hours. It began to consume me.

Finally, in desperation I begged Carl. We could adopt. We could try artificial insemination. Anything. But I wanted…no, needed…a baby. I needed something to hold on to and love. At first, he was angry. Accusing me of asking for the one thing he could never give me. Telling me that if he was not enough then I could leave. He even began to sleep in his study now. For a week, I saw him only in passing. He never spoke a word to me.

Then it happened. I had cried myself to sleep once more. At the very depth of despair. Not only did I not have the baby I wanted…needed. But now I had lost my husband. The man I had loved and adored for so long. The man for whom I would do anything. And he came to me.

In the middle of the night, he came to me. Gentleness itself. The way he touched me and loved me. It was everything we had always had and more. Even better than the first time. And although he could not love me as he once had, his mouth and tongue drove me to peak after peak. His fingers plunging deeper and deeper into my body. It was magical. Orgasm after orgasm. Until I was wet and spent, begging for mercy. And still he did not relent pushing me to another earth shattering orgasm. For the first time, I felt liquid gush actually squirt from my body. I moaned in shame and in the most powerful release of my life.

Then he slowly kissed his way up my unmovable body. When his tongue invaded my mouth, I tasted myself on him. It was erotic. His hand gentle and exploring. He drew back. His light blue eyes staring into my pale gray ones. His hands pushing my blonde hair out of my face. “I am sorry, Carrie. I know you want a baby. You deserve a baby.” I know my smile must have split my face. His apology more than I had dreamt of. I opened my mouth to reply. To apologize for my own thoughtlessness. But his long fingers covered my lips. “Carrie, do you trust me? Really trust me?” He asked.

I thought it was a strange question. Of course I trusted him. He was my husband. My mentor. The only lover I had ever known. But considering all we had been through, I merely nodded my head in affirmation. He smiled then. “Then you shall have your baby. But Carrie, it will be my way or not at all.”

I didn’t understand. But it didn’t matter. I had Carl back and I would have a baby. Did anything else really matter? But out of curiosity I asked, “What do you mean, Carl?”

My mind froze at his answer. His voice cool and calm as he shattered my universe. “You will have your baby, Carrie. But not adopted.” He paused for a moment and watched my face before he continued, “Not by artificial insemination. Carrie, you are a young and beautiful woman. Men desire you. I see it all the time. And you deserve to know those feelings once more.” His fingers suddenly invading my body in a mock of the act he spoke of. Pushing me to another orgasm.

“Your baby…our baby will be made the natural way.” He stated so calmly I thought I would die. “I will pick the father. I and I alone. And I will watch as he plants the baby.” His fingers pushing deep into me now. “Right here.” He said as he pushed the tip of his finger into my very womb. My body cumming once more around his fingers. Again gushing clear fluid down his hand to pool in our bed.

My mind was in turmoil. I thought of all those pregnant tummies I had seen and envied over the past few months. I thought of strollers in the park. I thought of watching the mother’s nurse their babies in the mall. And I did the only thing I could. I nodded my head in meek acceptance of my husband’s new rules.

Little did I know the path this would take me down…