The Baby Maker's Club

By: Penny Wylder


My eyelids feel weighted and it’s hard to keep them open. I’m so tired all of a sudden. I’m crashing after the stress and adrenaline of the past few hours. I decide to shut my eyes for just a minute, not all that worried that I’ll fall asleep. I’ve never been the kind of person to sleep soundly in strange places. I’m sure as soon as the door opens, I’ll be wide awake. I’m far too nervous to sleep.



My eyes flutter open. Everything is blurry and at first, I feel a bit confused about where I am. So much for not falling asleep.

There’s a soft glow in the room. That’s when I realize the candles that weren’t lit when I first got to the room are lit now. Someone else has been here.

I’m lying on my side, blinking confusedly at the lit candles when someone touches my shoulder. The hands on my shoulder kneed into my muscles and I startle into focus. I jump away from the man’s grip and put the length of the bed between us.

“What are you doing?” I say to him, my heart slamming against my chest from the sudden fright.

His hands are up in surrender. A warm smile plays across his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was trying to gently wake you up. I guess that didn’t work.”

“You could’ve just said my name a few times.”

That’s when I realize what I’m here for my … what do I call it? A date? An insemination? I cringe at the last one.

His eyebrows raise and he grins. Oh, right. He doesn’t know my name. I don’t know his name either. “I’m sorry,” I say with a sigh. “I must have dozed off and forgotten where I was.”

“It’s all right,” he says and settles onto the bed.

I stretch my neck. I fell asleep so quickly, the odd angle I’ve been in has left my neck stiff.

“How has your day been so far?” he asks.

“It was fine, thank you.”

I feel awkward. Not sure what to do with my hands, so I fix my hair, then stuff them in my pockets.

“You seem tense.”

I really look at him for the first time since I woke up. Now that my nerves are starting to settle, I notice different details about him. I was worried that I wouldn’t be attracted to him, but that’s definitely not going to be a problem once I start to pay attention. He has thick dark hair, a straight Romanesque nose, a strong jaw and perfect white teeth. He checks all the boxes of your typical handsome man. But there’s nothing at all typical about the way he looks. There’s something very comforting about his smile, a warmth that immediately makes me relax. It’s slightly crooked, and there’s a scar on his bottom lip that stretches down onto his chin. His eyes are a soft shade of green and there are creases around the skin of his eyes that make me think he smiles and laughs a lot. I don’t know what it is about him, but just his presence puts me at ease.

“Something wrong with your neck?” he asks as I continue to try and stretch out the clinched muscle.

“I fell asleep at a weird angle.”

“May I?” he says and leans toward me. I swallow hard. I know he is going to touch me. That’s what I’m here for, but I guess I didn’t realize just how nervous I would be about it. Not only nervous, but now that I’m in the quiet room with him, in the candlelight, I’m excited. He’s so beautiful it practically takes my breath away.

I nod and he moves across the bed. When his hands grip my shoulders again, I take in a deep breath and tense even more.

He lets out a low chuckle. “Relax.”

As he starts to really dig into the muscle, I let out an involuntary moan. It feels incredible. My muscles turn to putty under his capable hands. He moves even closer to me until I feel his warmth and smell the spicy scent of his cologne. His hands are so strong. I start to imagine what it would feel like with his fingers rubbing other places. My panties are wet in seconds at the thought. When his lips touch my neck, I jump. He chuckles again and brings his mouth to my ear. “Shhh…relax. I’m not going to bite,” he whispers. With his warm breath on my neck, I practically melt into him. It’s all happening so fast. It feels so … different. I want to say wrong because this isn’t how things normally go, but wrong is not the right word. Nothing about him touching me feels wrong. In fact, it’s beginning to feel very, very right.

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