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Inseminating my Mom
“This is your last chance,” Mazie said. Mazie was my best friend. Her son, Terry was the same age as my son, Danny.
“You tell me the same thing every month,” I said as I poured her another cup of coffee.
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“Some month it’s gonna be true. If it already isn’t true.”
“What are you saying?” For the first time, I was scared.
Mazie took a sip and hesitated before saying, “Well … you don’t even know if YOU can get pregnant anymore. It might not just be Mel. It’s been so long.”
“I still get my periods. On time, every month. And the doctor said I was still fertile.”
“Even so,” Mazie said. She raised her eyebrows.
It suddenly dawned on me she was right. Melvin and I had been trying desperately forever. Even more desperately these last five years since the accident that left him paralyzed, his legs useless and withered. We both wanted a child, but I suspected that having a second would make him feel more alive and vital once again.
“We tried normally a lot and then it’s been the in vitro that never worked, and now it’s going to be artificial insemination for the third and last time. Mazie, maybe you’re right.” I slumped into the chair at the kitchen table. Mazie got that look you get when you see a hurt you can’t heal, but want to try anyway.
“I’m sure it’s gonna work this time, Jan. I got a good feeling. I’m betting in two weeks or so you’ll be expecting again and all this talk will be something we’ll laugh about.”
She patted my hand and rubbed my arm to comfort me, but I didn’t feel any comfort. All of a sudden, lots of things I never said before were streaming out: “It’s Mel. It’s pitiful. It was pitiful before, but now, after the accident …”
“It can’t be that—”
“It’s worse than you think. It’s worse than even I let myself believe. The sex between us was never any good. Mel never cared about my needs or maybe he didn’t know what my needs were, or what any woman’s needs were. And since he’s been paralyzed, he can barely keep an erection, if that’s what you want to call that semi-hard thing, for more than a minute. I have to place him on the bed, get on top and jam my hips down as fast as I can to try and harvest the few drops of whatever drips out of him.”
“Jan, that’s the actual sex. But, you’re going to do the artificial insemination again. That’s got to work.”
“You should see the little watery stain Mel delivers into that specimen jar. Any rational person would know it’s not enough in volume or potency to get me pregnant. I’ve got just the opposite problem with Danny. I keep having to pick gooey tissues off his floor. What does he think, that I figure he’s blowing his nose 100 times a day?”
“Hey, he just turned 18. If you don’t have all the ammunition in the world at that age, you never will. Too bad he couldn’t lend his father some of that rocket fuel. That young, and an athlete in tremendous condition—his sperm count is probably off the charts!”
“Off the charts,” I whispered.
Danny was my only child, and his 18th birthday was just last week. He was, at the same time, a joy and a headache. He was bright and handsome and well built from constant exercise. But, he was rebellious and argumentative. He wanted things his own way and was stubborn like his father.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“Nothing. Just thinking this whole thing over. It’s funny how here I am trying to get pregnant, and I’m constantly warning Danny NOT to get a girl in trouble. You know how boys are at that age.”
“Yeah. They got one thing on their minds, and that thing is between a girl’s legs. They’ll fuck anyone who’s the least bit willing. They’ll prey on the slightest sign of weakness.”
I’d heard Mazie use the word “fuck” before, but I had never associated it with my own son.
“Danny looks exactly like father,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s amazing. But, that’s a family characteristic. All the men, going back generations, are carbon copies. It must be some super dominant genetic trait, or something.”
“We won’t know for many years with Danny, after college and meeting the right girl and getting married and everything. And this generation is waiting until their thirties to ever start a family. A long time,” Mazie mused as she finished her coffee.
“Maybe not,” I whispered again, my non-seeing eyes on the window, but my inner vision in deep thought over a wild idea that almost bubbled to the surface of my consciousness.
She got up and said, “I don’t know what the answer is. I wish I could have been more help.”
“Maybe you helped more than you know,” I said and hugged her goodbye.
*******************
“Where’s Dan?” Melvin demanded.
“He’s at football practice. You know that.”
“How do suppose I can keep track of what goes on outside this damned hospital?”
“It’s a recuperation facility, Mel. It’s beautiful here.”
My husband had his fourth unsuccessful spinal operation and was rehabbing yet again. I didn’t blame him for being in a foul mood, but it didn’t make it any easier to take.
“You’d think he’d want to visit his father once in a while. That’s all.”
“You two always find something to fight about. I’m sure he’ll come soon.”
“Did he start applying to colleges like I told him to?”
“Not quite yet,” I said. Danny kept saying he wasn’t going to college. He didn’t see why he should waste four years. I tried to persuade him, but it was no use. I had nothing in my power to get him to do it
“Jennifer, you do whatever it takes to get that boy on the right track. You hear me?”
“Anyway, today’s not a good day for him to be here. I’ve brought the specimen cups for you to use. I’m ovulating tomorrow and we’re trying again.” I dug into my bag and showed him one of the two identical cup. They had screw top lids and his ID info typed on labels stuck to the sides. The clinic, because of Melvin’s condition, had allowed me to deliver his “sample” myself.
“At least if I knock you up one last time, it’ll prove I’m still a man,” he growled, the bitterness of his voice biting through me.
“Knocking me up” echoed in my brain. It made it seem so cheap, and useless.
“I’ll leave you alone while you fill that,” I said.
“NO!”
“What?”
“I want you to do it for me. And I want you to use your mouth to get me hard.”
“Mel, you know I don’t do that.” It was true; something had always kept me from performing oral sex. It just seemed so gross, so wrong to me.
“I should have known you have no compassion. Not even any pity. Not even after all I’ve been through. Even though you were driving the night of the accident that caused this.”
Again with the guilt. I’d do anything to get rid of it. Maybe that was part of the driving force behind trying to get pregnant again.
This story is really harsh and based 😕 on vulgarity. Some english slang word is used ...plz ignored... plz help tell which kind of story you want 👦.... I shall be irritating 😒 but happy...
...
comment below ...
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“You tell me the same thing every month,” I said as I poured her another cup of coffee.
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“Some month it’s gonna be true. If it already isn’t true.”
“What are you saying?” For the first time, I was scared.
Mazie took a sip and hesitated before saying, “Well … you don’t even know if YOU can get pregnant anymore. It might not just be Mel. It’s been so long.”
“I still get my periods. On time, every month. And the doctor said I was still fertile.”
“Even so,” Mazie said. She raised her eyebrows.
It suddenly dawned on me she was right. Melvin and I had been trying desperately forever. Even more desperately these last five years since the accident that left him paralyzed, his legs useless and withered. We both wanted a child, but I suspected that having a second would make him feel more alive and vital once again.
“We tried normally a lot and then it’s been the in vitro that never worked, and now it’s going to be artificial insemination for the third and last time. Mazie, maybe you’re right.” I slumped into the chair at the kitchen table. Mazie got that look you get when you see a hurt you can’t heal, but want to try anyway.
“I’m sure it’s gonna work this time, Jan. I got a good feeling. I’m betting in two weeks or so you’ll be expecting again and all this talk will be something we’ll laugh about.”
She patted my hand and rubbed my arm to comfort me, but I didn’t feel any comfort. All of a sudden, lots of things I never said before were streaming out: “It’s Mel. It’s pitiful. It was pitiful before, but now, after the accident …”
“It can’t be that—”
“It’s worse than you think. It’s worse than even I let myself believe. The sex between us was never any good. Mel never cared about my needs or maybe he didn’t know what my needs were, or what any woman’s needs were. And since he’s been paralyzed, he can barely keep an erection, if that’s what you want to call that semi-hard thing, for more than a minute. I have to place him on the bed, get on top and jam my hips down as fast as I can to try and harvest the few drops of whatever drips out of him.”
“Jan, that’s the actual sex. But, you’re going to do the artificial insemination again. That’s got to work.”
“You should see the little watery stain Mel delivers into that specimen jar. Any rational person would know it’s not enough in volume or potency to get me pregnant. I’ve got just the opposite problem with Danny. I keep having to pick gooey tissues off his floor. What does he think, that I figure he’s blowing his nose 100 times a day?”
“Hey, he just turned 18. If you don’t have all the ammunition in the world at that age, you never will. Too bad he couldn’t lend his father some of that rocket fuel. That young, and an athlete in tremendous condition—his sperm count is probably off the charts!”
“Off the charts,” I whispered.
Danny was my only child, and his 18th birthday was just last week. He was, at the same time, a joy and a headache. He was bright and handsome and well built from constant exercise. But, he was rebellious and argumentative. He wanted things his own way and was stubborn like his father.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“Nothing. Just thinking this whole thing over. It’s funny how here I am trying to get pregnant, and I’m constantly warning Danny NOT to get a girl in trouble. You know how boys are at that age.”
“Yeah. They got one thing on their minds, and that thing is between a girl’s legs. They’ll fuck anyone who’s the least bit willing. They’ll prey on the slightest sign of weakness.”
I’d heard Mazie use the word “fuck” before, but I had never associated it with my own son.
“Danny looks exactly like father,” she said.
“Yeah, it’s amazing. But, that’s a family characteristic. All the men, going back generations, are carbon copies. It must be some super dominant genetic trait, or something.”
“We won’t know for many years with Danny, after college and meeting the right girl and getting married and everything. And this generation is waiting until their thirties to ever start a family. A long time,” Mazie mused as she finished her coffee.
“Maybe not,” I whispered again, my non-seeing eyes on the window, but my inner vision in deep thought over a wild idea that almost bubbled to the surface of my consciousness.
She got up and said, “I don’t know what the answer is. I wish I could have been more help.”
“Maybe you helped more than you know,” I said and hugged her goodbye.
*******************
“Where’s Dan?” Melvin demanded.
“He’s at football practice. You know that.”
“How do suppose I can keep track of what goes on outside this damned hospital?”
“It’s a recuperation facility, Mel. It’s beautiful here.”
My husband had his fourth unsuccessful spinal operation and was rehabbing yet again. I didn’t blame him for being in a foul mood, but it didn’t make it any easier to take.
“You’d think he’d want to visit his father once in a while. That’s all.”
“You two always find something to fight about. I’m sure he’ll come soon.”
“Did he start applying to colleges like I told him to?”
“Not quite yet,” I said. Danny kept saying he wasn’t going to college. He didn’t see why he should waste four years. I tried to persuade him, but it was no use. I had nothing in my power to get him to do it
“Jennifer, you do whatever it takes to get that boy on the right track. You hear me?”
“Anyway, today’s not a good day for him to be here. I’ve brought the specimen cups for you to use. I’m ovulating tomorrow and we’re trying again.” I dug into my bag and showed him one of the two identical cup. They had screw top lids and his ID info typed on labels stuck to the sides. The clinic, because of Melvin’s condition, had allowed me to deliver his “sample” myself.
“At least if I knock you up one last time, it’ll prove I’m still a man,” he growled, the bitterness of his voice biting through me.
“Knocking me up” echoed in my brain. It made it seem so cheap, and useless.
“I’ll leave you alone while you fill that,” I said.
“NO!”
“What?”
“I want you to do it for me. And I want you to use your mouth to get me hard.”
“Mel, you know I don’t do that.” It was true; something had always kept me from performing oral sex. It just seemed so gross, so wrong to me.
“I should have known you have no compassion. Not even any pity. Not even after all I’ve been through. Even though you were driving the night of the accident that caused this.”
Again with the guilt. I’d do anything to get rid of it. Maybe that was part of the driving force behind trying to get pregnant again.
This story is really harsh and based 😕 on vulgarity. Some english slang word is used ...plz ignored... plz help tell which kind of story you want 👦.... I shall be irritating 😒 but happy...
...
comment below ...
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