I Am Not A Wimp: Another Sequel

"Love me, Ted, please?" she said softly.

I wasn't going to keep the lady waiting, so I pushed the head of my cock past her gates and plunged into Jenny's hot, pliant pussy. I drove it in to the hilt, nice and easy, and quickly got into an undulating rhythm that had her squirming in seconds.

We worked as one in the way we always had, but having faced a potential crisis that could have split us apart, it seemed all the better.

As we quickly jacked up the pace of our lovemaking, we gasped and grunted and exchanged the heated endearments that were like music to our ears.

Soon, however, we were beyond words, as the pace of our coupling began to reach the frenzied stage. Jenny wrapped her legs around the small of my back and humped me for everything she was worth, and I was giving her everything I had.

Inoutinoutinout, aroundaroundaround, we felt the rusty crackle of a huge mutual explosion, and even as the thought passed my mind, I felt Jenny's body jerk and convulse under me. Her eyes were squeezed shut as her orgasm blew through her like a hurricane.

Seconds later, I grunted hard as my scrotum boiled over with molten cum, and I spewed a hard, rapid series of cumshots deep in Jenny's spastic hole.

We clutched each other as if we weren't going to ever let each other go. Finally, I felt drained, and I slumped forward as Jenny caressed my sweaty brow. I rolled off her body and took her in my arms.

For several minutes, we said nothing, as we fought to get our breathing under control. After awhile, though, Jenny looked up at me and her eyes were glistening.

"Ted?" she said hesitantly. "Are we OK?"

"I think so, sweetheart," I said. "I'm still a little hurt and embarrassed by what you did, but I think I can get over it. Just don't do it again."

"Heaven forbid," Jenny said lazily, as we both dozed off in the sleep of the sexually satisfied.

JENNY

I lay back on the sweat-soaked sheets, exhausted from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. Exhausted, but exhilarated. All around me was organized chaos, but at that moment, nothing seemed to penetrate my conscious mind.

Then I heard a voice in my ear, accompanied by the sound I'd waited months to hear.

"Would you like to hold your baby?" the nurse said.

I looked over at Ted, and he looked like he was about to burst. I saw Diane, who had coached me through the birth of our first child. She had a beatific smile on her face, and she subconsciously rubbed her belly, which was starting to show the makings of her own child.

I just nodded, and seconds later, a squalling little thing was placed in my arms. Maybe it was the fact that she knew her mother, but for some reason, the moment little Roberta was placed in my arms, she went silent, asleep for the first time.

Nine months, give or take a day or two, had passed since the weekend when Ted came back to me. I knew I was fertile that weekend, but I didn't say anything to Ted, because I didn't want to spook him.

When we got back to Atlanta, and Ted readjusted to being with me again, we realized that what had let us down were our communication skills. We hadn't talked, I mean really talked, about our lives and what motivated us to do certain things.

We decided to see a marriage counselor to see if we could gain some insights into why we had let something like that nearly drive us apart.

We each learned some things about the other that we really hadn't consciously known, and that has helped our relationship reach a new plateau of understanding. We also learned some things about ourselves that we hadn't been willing to admit to, and that, too, helped immensely.

We learned that I'm a little self-centered and that I'm pretty high-maintenance. I need to be the center of attention, and I don't react too well when I seem to be ignored.

Once I was confronted with my self-centered nature, I started working being more giving. I'd actually started the process the night Ted left me, without realizing it directly.

We learned that Ted was badly scarred by his father's experience, and by his mother's sudden death. He had developed a deep mistrust of women, because the two most important women in his life had let him down, his mother by dying when he was 8 and Janice by cheating on his father.

I learned, too, how much pride drives Ted. I think I finally came to grips with why he had been so unwilling to bend. His experiences from his childhood, plus his pride and self-worth had led him to feel betrayed by my actions.

And I did betray him, I realize that now. By sneaking around behind Ted's back with a sleazy operator like Jerry, I had betrayed him. I'd wounded his pride and reawakened all the mistrust of women he'd been carrying around since childhood.

The more I subsequently learned about Ted's psyche, the more I appreciated his decision to come back to me and work to rebuild our marriage. It had been a hard thing for him to do. It took a lot of inner strength for him to overcome all of that and forgive me.

But he did it because, when you came right down to it, we loved each other and we needed each other. And as he said that afternoon in my office, we were both better off together than apart.

Of course, the dynamics changed when we discovered I was pregnant. Suddenly, it wasn't just the two of us. Now we had a child to consider.

I looked up at Ted, always and forever the love of my life, and asked him softly if he was ready to hold his daughter.

The look he gave me then was priceless, a mixture of love, surprise, a little dismay and a lot of uncertainty. But after I handed over the little bundle of joy, his features softened and the look of reverence he had as he gazed at our child told me we were going to be just fine.

My husband? A wimp? Not on your life.