Rainbow After The Storm

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Calla and Travis celebrate.
2.1k words
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"Bub, are you awake?" Travis asked, his voice sounded miles away. Odd. They were walking up a mountain, clearly she was awake!

The cold mountain was replaced by a warm bed, and Calla realised she had been dreaming.

She groaned. "I am now."

"Sorry, bub," Travis replied, but she could tell he wasn't.

"Want to sleep," Calla yawned, her eyes refusing to open properly. If he would just leave her she could get another couple of hours in. It was the freakin' weekend after all!

"But remember what you need to do?"

Yeah. Sleep.

"I need to sl-"

Oh yeah. That.

"How about I just do it tomorrow?" Calla suggested hopefully

"Dream on dreamer," Travis replied. "Today is tomorrow. And yesterday was tomorrow, as was the day before that, and the day before that.

"Come on, I've been four days late before!"

"Yeah, when your grandma died and you were grieving and stressed out," Travis pointed out.

"Well, maybe I'm stressed now!" Calla offered, and though she wasn't looking at Travis she could feel him rolling his eyes.

"Get it out of the way, put us both out of our misery!"

"It's not misery for you though, is it," Calla accused, sitting up, finally looking the man in his chocolatey brown eyes.

"You know I'm happy either way," Travis said softly, but Calla knew he would be more happy for it to go one specific way.

"I know you are, and you know I feel the same way, but... it's just so big." Travis smirked, and she couldn't stifle a laugh. "You are such a perv."

"You handle big things so well though!" he said so innocently you'd be forgiven for thinking he was being sincere.

"Until we have an infant screaming the house down you aren't legally allowed to make dad jokes," Calla chastised, giving in and getting out of bed.

"That's not a dad joke, it's a boyfriend joke. Bit inappropriate to make dick jokes around kids, don't you think?"

If she didn't love him so much she would have slapped the smirk right off his face. Now wasn't the time to be making jokes! She was trying to be annoyed with him, and his being humourous wasn't helping with that.

"I hate you," Calla informed him, putting her robe on as she stalked past him and went into the ensuite.

"I hate you too, baby," Travis called after her.

"So, so much," Calla added.

"Hate you more," Travis replied.

She was glad he couldn't see her grin as she opened the box sitting on the counter. That man. She would be so completely lost without him.

It was an odd situation she found herself in. Babies had always been part of the plan for them, and now her period was five days late Travis was right, it was time to do a test. But there was something so scary about that simple task which could dictate the rest of her life. If she was pregnant, she was pregnant. She would become a mum. Childless life would be over. Life as she knew it would be over, for both of them.

Travis made no attempt to hide that he hoped she was pregnant, and really, she hoped the test came back positive. It was such a big thing though. Such an adult thing.

"You done it yet?" Travis asked from the other side of the closed door.

"No, not yet, reading how to do it," Calla replied.

"In other words you're stalling," Travis accused.

"I prefer to think of it as drawing out the moment for emotional effect," Calla responded.

"Whatever you say," Travis chuckled.

Sadly, he was right. She was stalling. It was time to -- as her mum often said to her growing up -- act her age and not her shoe size; she couldn't put the test off any longer.

"Fine. I'm on the toilet," Calla called. "And now I'm holding the test between my legs," she decided it would be fun to give him a blow by blow. "And now I'm peeing, and hoping my wee is actually getting on the test, otherwise I need to wait until we've been to the supermarket to get another one."

"Say the word and I will go and get one right now."

"I'm finished peeing now, and am going to take the test from between my legs, probably dripping wee everywhere and making a right mess."

"It happens," Travis replied.

"You're lucky, no drips," Calla informed him. "Now I'm putting the cap on the wee saturated tip and turning the test over so I can't see the result."

"The positive result, you mean," Travis corrected.

Calla looked at her reflection in the mirror and rolled her eyes at herself. He was so confident she was pregnant that she'd woken in the middle of the night and found him rubbing her belly. For fear she might cry because she wasn't prepared for such an emotion driven gesture, Calla pretended to be asleep the whole time. Nevertheless it had taken her an hour to get back to sleep after hearing Travis whisper 'night little one', moments before his deep, even breathing told her he was asleep.

After washing her hands there was no viable reason for her to stay in the ensuite, so she reluctantly opened the door and walked back into their bedroom. Travis looked incredibly nervous, causing her to feel guilty that she'd selfishly put off testing for so many days. His excitement had taken her by surprise, but standing before him it struck her why he was so hopeful they were unexpectedly pregnant.

His dad.

Four months earlier his dad had very unexpectedly passed away. He was out playing golf with friends, one minute he'd been talking up his golf game, the next he was on the green dead, having experienced an enormous heart attack. It had hit Travis harder than anyone else in the family, and he'd sunken into a deep depression, to the point Calla had been terrified he was going to commit suicide.

She'd never forget the day she'd come home from a lunch date with her best friend to find Travis sitting under the huge Oak tree in their backyard, with a bottle of whisky and a handful of pills. If she'd been ten minutes later her Travis would have been gone, just like his dad. What followed was a blur of appointments with various healthcare professionals and her not wanting to let Travis out of her sight for even a minute.

Even now with him doing a hell of a lot better, she still hated being away from him, and the image of him with those pills in his hand was always in the back of her mind. A baby would be something to look forward to, a new life to cherish, and go some way toward filling up the void left by losing his father. Not that a baby would take away the pain of losing his dad, nor would it replace him, but it would serve as the metaphorical rainbow after the storm.

"You wanna look or should I?" Travis asked.

"Uh, you can, if you want," Calla replied, a lump rising in her throat as the reality of the situation hit home.

"You know we'll be fine, right?" Travis asked, concern in his voice and his eyes.

"I know we will," Calla smiled up at him. "I think I just realised how badly I want this to be real."

"Me too," Travis said, his voice shaking. He took her hand. "Come, sit on the bed with me."

They sat on the edge of their bed and Travis smiled nervously at her. "Ready?"

"Ready," Calla confirmed, her stomach flip-flopping as she looked at the test in his hand.

He began turning the test over but it felt as if they were in slow motion; a motion which took a split second seemed to take a full hour.

With the test right way up the result was glaringly obvious.

Pink line. Times two.

"Th- that means what I think it means, right?" Travis's voice had taken on a gentle quality she'd never heard before.

Calla could only nod in reply, her eyes glued to the two pink lines indicating a positive test result.

"A baby..." Travis uttered and she finally tore her eyes from the test to lock with his.

"A baby!" Calla squealed with excitement and launched herself at him.

"A baby!" Travis laughed, wrapping his arms tightly around her and rolling them both to the middle of the bed, stopping when he was laying on top of her.

Calla pulled Travis down and hugged him tightly, her legs going around his waist, holding him close. They kissed for the first time as a couple with a baby on the way, and the excitement quickly developed into something else altogether.

While the kiss continued Travis lifted himself off her just enough to pull her robe open, and when their bodies made contact again she found he was already hard, the knowledge making her ache for him.

Her need increased in time with him licking up her neck, before tugging on her earlobe with his teeth. She clawed at his back and raked her nails over his ass while he continued, alternating between grazing his teeth over the sensitive flesh of her neck and licking, in a manner that made her gasp and arch into him.

As quickly as he hardened, she became so wet and hot only one thing could ease the tension developing inside her. Him.

It was with a long, slow stroke he gave her want she needed; pressing deeply, filling her with all of him, stretching her in the most beautiful, overwhelming of ways.

Calla shuddered against him and kissed him tenderly as he pulled his hips back, before sinking slowly into her again. Her hips moved with him, each stroke of his cock timed perfectly to coincide with her movements, providing the most delicate, sweet friction against her clitoris.

With legs locked tightly around his waist, Calla looked into his eyes and smiled softly as they rode the blissful wave together.

It was one of those times she wanted to savour, she wanted to commit to memory just how breathtaking it felt to have him sliding in and out of her body. She was so wet that even the slightest movement on his behalf felt sublime, it was the type of sex she wished could go on for days.

Coated in her juices, his cock glided in and out effortlessly, each stroke causing her to feel more and more sensitive in a way that promised an earth shattering orgasm in the very near future. That was the problem. It felt so good -- he felt so good -- that her release was always simmering just below the surface, an orgasmic timebomb waiting to go off.

Her clitoris was pulsing and swollen, with each stroke of his cock bringing her that much closer to orgasm. It was inevitable that her stomach and hips began tightening, and at the same time her legs tightened, bringing him in even closer contact with the burning core of her body. His thrusts continued to be slow and deep, and she was just waiting for the sudden increase in speed, and impact to send her over the edge.

Instead of moving faster, he slowed right down, the increased intensity of friction against her clit catching her completely by surprise. She tightened around him, crying out loudly as he almost dragged the length of his cock against her clit, the constant pressure overwhelming and unexpected.

She felt her entire body tense up and she screamed as she ruptured around him, the orgasm unlike any she'd had before, wave, after wave, after wave, as he continued sliding in and out of her. Earth shattering was an understatement. It wasn't just one long orgasm either, she realised, it was orgasm, on top of orgasm, on top of orgasm. Layer upon layer of ecstacy.

Just as she thought it was over Travis gave one final, purposeful thrust of the hips, burying himself deep and stilling. An almost pained groan filled the room as he came, his powerful contractions triggering one final orgasm which well and truly shattered her.

She couldn't move beneath him, she didn't want to move. Every last ounce of energy had been sapped, and as she felt herself floating away, all she was conscious of was how hot Travis felt inside her, and that she wanted to stay that way forever. Having his weight on top of her was something she needed post orgasm. Most women she knew complained about feeling squashed, but she loved the way it felt to bear his weight, to be protected by his body.

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