Read Online Play With You (Loneliness) by Alison Cole - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Alison Cole
Tags: Erótica
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group.
"So, Johanna, how are you feeling?" asks Tim.
"Capital, Tim. Brilliant. Thank you!"
"Hey, the thanks is in the gleam back in your eyes," he says. "Let's go. We have a President to perform for."
During the performance, I see President and Mrs. Obama, along with Sasha and Malia, their adorable daughters. They grin broadly as we perform, seeming to appreciate our music. It's all over too fast, and soon the President and First Lady appear on the stage with us, thanking us for our performance.
In our hotel room, waves of exhaustion hit me. Normally, after a concert, I am up and energetic. This time, though, I cannot stay awake. Stripping my dress off, I hang it up, and then aim myself for the bed. As soon as my head lands on the pillow, I am completely out of it.
The next morning, he wants to make love. I participate in our completely enjoyable foreplay - then, another bout of nausea hits me. My eyes open wide and I push Marcus off me and bolt for the bathroom. After several minutes, I feel somewhat, but not completely, better. Returning to bed after rinsing my mouth, we start making love. Until the rocking, thrusting motion sets off my tummy once more. The air in this country must be making me sick!
This is easily the high point of our U.S. tour. I return to normal as we finish out the tour - except for that lingering nausea and sickness that occasionally strikes me.
One night, in our room, Marcus looks at me seriously.
"Johanna, I think you're pregnant," he says.
His words shock me. Pregnant? Then I begin totting up my various symptoms. My breasts have been very tender and my favorite slim jeans no longer fit me properly. I look at Marcus, wondering if he could be right.
"But...we've used..."
"All but that one time, remember? Back in England, we made love without protection. I think it happened then - if you are...you know." A wide grin spreads across Marcus' face.
I collapse onto the bed next to him. Lord! I think he's right! A grin slowly makes its way to my face, too. "Oh, my God! I think you might be right! Can we stop at an apothecary shop and get one of those pregnancy tests?"
"A pharmacy, you mean? I think we'd better! If you are, you need to be taking care of yourself, my love," Marcus says.
I look at my watch. "Practice isn't for another hour and a half. Can you Google the closest pharmacy so we can buy a test?"
Twenty minutes later, we're standing in the checkout line, a test in hand. Marcus bolts for the testing aisle again and comes back with a second test.
I crook an eyebrow at him. "Two tests? One is sufficient," I say.
"I want to be doubly sure," he says. "Once we know, you'll need to get the best prenatal care and, when we return to England, you're going to start seeing a doctor or midwife," he says.
I goggle at him. He's really looking forward to papa-hood! Back in our room, we read the instructions. Marcus grabbed a different brand from what I had grabbed, so we read both sets of instructions. Following the instructions, I pee on both sticks and we wait for the specified amounts of time. Marcus tells me when each test should show the results and we peer at both. Both have strong pink or blue lines, indicating that I am definitely pregnant! I collapse onto the closed toilet lid. Well, no wonder! I think to my older sister's symptoms and realize that I should have caught on much earlier. I thought I was so emotional and sick because of Marcus!
Marcus looks at me with joy brimming from his eyes. Gathering me tenderly into his arms, he says, "I love you, you know. I love our little baby, tiny as he - or she - is."
I begin to cry out of joy and fear.
"Oh, my God! Marcus, what if my depression hurt the baby?"
Marcus is struck silent.
"The only way we'll know is if we find a clinic and have you and our little one checked out," he tells me.
"I don't want to say anything to the guys yet. Let's see what a doctor says, then we can break the happy news to them," I decide.
"Good idea. I'll
"So, Johanna, how are you feeling?" asks Tim.
"Capital, Tim. Brilliant. Thank you!"
"Hey, the thanks is in the gleam back in your eyes," he says. "Let's go. We have a President to perform for."
During the performance, I see President and Mrs. Obama, along with Sasha and Malia, their adorable daughters. They grin broadly as we perform, seeming to appreciate our music. It's all over too fast, and soon the President and First Lady appear on the stage with us, thanking us for our performance.
In our hotel room, waves of exhaustion hit me. Normally, after a concert, I am up and energetic. This time, though, I cannot stay awake. Stripping my dress off, I hang it up, and then aim myself for the bed. As soon as my head lands on the pillow, I am completely out of it.
The next morning, he wants to make love. I participate in our completely enjoyable foreplay - then, another bout of nausea hits me. My eyes open wide and I push Marcus off me and bolt for the bathroom. After several minutes, I feel somewhat, but not completely, better. Returning to bed after rinsing my mouth, we start making love. Until the rocking, thrusting motion sets off my tummy once more. The air in this country must be making me sick!
This is easily the high point of our U.S. tour. I return to normal as we finish out the tour - except for that lingering nausea and sickness that occasionally strikes me.
One night, in our room, Marcus looks at me seriously.
"Johanna, I think you're pregnant," he says.
His words shock me. Pregnant? Then I begin totting up my various symptoms. My breasts have been very tender and my favorite slim jeans no longer fit me properly. I look at Marcus, wondering if he could be right.
"But...we've used..."
"All but that one time, remember? Back in England, we made love without protection. I think it happened then - if you are...you know." A wide grin spreads across Marcus' face.
I collapse onto the bed next to him. Lord! I think he's right! A grin slowly makes its way to my face, too. "Oh, my God! I think you might be right! Can we stop at an apothecary shop and get one of those pregnancy tests?"
"A pharmacy, you mean? I think we'd better! If you are, you need to be taking care of yourself, my love," Marcus says.
I look at my watch. "Practice isn't for another hour and a half. Can you Google the closest pharmacy so we can buy a test?"
Twenty minutes later, we're standing in the checkout line, a test in hand. Marcus bolts for the testing aisle again and comes back with a second test.
I crook an eyebrow at him. "Two tests? One is sufficient," I say.
"I want to be doubly sure," he says. "Once we know, you'll need to get the best prenatal care and, when we return to England, you're going to start seeing a doctor or midwife," he says.
I goggle at him. He's really looking forward to papa-hood! Back in our room, we read the instructions. Marcus grabbed a different brand from what I had grabbed, so we read both sets of instructions. Following the instructions, I pee on both sticks and we wait for the specified amounts of time. Marcus tells me when each test should show the results and we peer at both. Both have strong pink or blue lines, indicating that I am definitely pregnant! I collapse onto the closed toilet lid. Well, no wonder! I think to my older sister's symptoms and realize that I should have caught on much earlier. I thought I was so emotional and sick because of Marcus!
Marcus looks at me with joy brimming from his eyes. Gathering me tenderly into his arms, he says, "I love you, you know. I love our little baby, tiny as he - or she - is."
I begin to cry out of joy and fear.
"Oh, my God! Marcus, what if my depression hurt the baby?"
Marcus is struck silent.
"The only way we'll know is if we find a clinic and have you and our little one checked out," he tells me.
"I don't want to say anything to the guys yet. Let's see what a doctor says, then we can break the happy news to them," I decide.
"Good idea. I'll
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