The World Made Yonder

'No!' cried Celia. 'I want Bjorn! I want Bjorn!'

Joey pressed his body onto hers, his hips manoeuvring, his erect cock searching for the place. Celia's hips twisted and turned, her legs thrashing as she tried to push him off. She was not faking either—Joey could feel her use all her strength fighting him. He pressed his chest down, pinning her torso to the carpet and giving his hips more freedom to move. His erect cock ran down her prickly Venus mound, the penis head found a wet opening and Joey pushed.

His cock went into Celia's vagina in one solid movement. Celia let out a loud grunt which Joey felt in his balls. He thrust again and again, his cock ploughing a cunt so slick and wet, he had to concentrate on not slipping out. Celia grunted which each thrust—low, guttural sounds so unlike her usual high-pitched sighing and moaning. Her legs stopped kicking, her body relaxed under his weight and Joey felt the woman deliver herself to the experience of being fucked. Her eyes rolled upwards in her head, her eyelids closed, and she let out the deepest of deep sighs.

In Joey's head, a little voice whispered, 'Do you think she's sighing for you?'

Joey pushed his cock all the way into the woman's cunt and stopped. He grabbed a handful of hair on the back of her head and held his face close above hers.

'No,' he said.

Celia's eyes opened. She looked at him, scared.

'I'm not doing it,' he said. 'Not while you have a coil inside you.'

'You want to put a baby in me?'

'Yes.'

'What if I don't want your baby?'

'Then I'll divorce you,' said Joey. 'And I will make it as ugly as possible. I will demand a DNA test and I will tell everybody the results—your family, my family, every fucking person on the planet. If you don't give me what I want, I will burn our fucking lives to the ground.'

'That's blackmail. That's coercion.'

'I don't give a fuck!'

Joey jammed his cock in hard and tightened his grip in her hair.

'You lied to me, Woman!' he yelled in her face. 'And not just about Stephen! You knew how I saw our marriage—how I saw us—and you let me go on thinking that knowing it was a lie! You used me! You knew I was in love with you and you used that to get the family you wanted, because the man you really wanted didn't want a family with you! You married me because it was your best available option. It had nothing to do with Love ... but you got me to think that it did. And, for that, you are a fucking bitch!'

Joey glared down at his wife, his cock pressing into her, his fist tight in her hair. Celia looked back, her eyes sad, her expression full of love. Joey saw it and struggled to comprehend it. He was treating her with a brutality unthinkable before this evening, yet he saw love in her eyes and he suspected it was real. Celia didn't move—couldn't move—but tears welled up and spilled over, running down both sides of her face. She swallowed and spoke, her voice thick with emotion.

'You're right, my darling,' she said. 'You're absolutely right. Everything you said is true. I am a bitch. And do you know what the worst thing is?'

Celia blinked and looked at something on Joey's chin.

'I can't apologise,' she said. 'I could say the words, but I wouldn't mean them. Because when my chance came, this voice in my belly screamed "Do it! Do it!" so I did. And, even as I was doing it, I knew that this was what you wanted. That you wanted the voice in my belly to be screaming for you. And it wasn't. It just wasn't.'

Celia looked again into Joey's eyes. He looked back, feeling strange, moved, conflicted. She felt closer to him than he had ever known, yet also forever out of reach. He was seized by an intense sadness.

'What is your belly saying now?' he said.

'What it always says,' said Celia. '"It should be Bjorn or no-one." It told me to quit art college halfway through and follow him to Stockholm. It nagged me to let go having a career and try and get back together with him. When I first met you, it threw an absolute fit. It hated how much I liked you and saw the potential in our relationship—way more potential than any relationship with Bjorn. But the voice doesn't care. It never cared about Bjorn's infidelities or selfishness or the fact that he rarely does anything. It decided that Bjorn's seed would make a beautiful child and it wanted nothing else. What I wanted didn't count for shit!'

The bitterness in her voice was unmistakeable. Looking at her reddening eyes, Joey realised that his wife was at war with herself; probably had been for a long time. He loosened his grip in her hair.

'Don't do that!' said Celia, her eyes suddenly blazing. 'I need your strength, not your sympathy!'

Joey nodded slowly and retightened his grip. He shifted his hips to check that his cock was still firmly inside her. For a long time, he stared into Celia's eyes, wondering what to say next. Then he lowered his head and drove his tongue into her mouth.

***************************

It began as a normal day for Stephen.

He woke up as his usual time: six thirty in the morning. Neither of his parents wanted to be up before seven, so Stephen was allowed to go downstairs on his own and watch cartoons on the flatscreen. He put on his matching Spider-Man dressing gown and slippers and went quietly out of his room and down the stairs.

He went first to the kitchen-dining room to get a drink and a satsuma. As he was pouring cherry-flavoured milk into his SpongeBob cup—carton held in both hands—he heard grown-up footsteps rush down the stairs. The living room door was opened and someone went in.

Stephen put the carton back in the fridge and carried his full cup and satsuma balanced on a plastic plate out of the kitchen. The living room door was ajar and Stephen heard the huffs and puffs of his mother as she did something in a hurry. Carefully guarding his drink, he nudged open the door and went in.

His mother was in her white towelled bathrobe and bare feet, and her hair was a tangled mess. She startled when the door opened, her arms full of her and Daddy's clothes, a whiskey bottle in her fist. The room was hot, although Stephen saw that the number on the electronic thermostat was normal. Maybe she had already turned it down.

'Hello, Stephen!' said Celia, a little breathless.

'Hello, Mummy,' said Stephen. 'Can I watch cartoons?'

'Yes, of course, darling.'

Stephen held his cup to his chest, then frowned. There were two chunky glasses on the bookshelf. Celia saw them too and walked stiffly over to collect them.

'Mummy, did you hurt yourself?' said Stephen.

'No, darling. Why do you ask?'

'Because you're walking funny.'

Celia's face went red and she held the bundle of clothes against her chest. The two glasses clanked together as she held them with her fingers.

'Well, I might have been...' She hesitated. 'I was doing exercises yesterday,' she said. 'And I may have slightly overdone it.'

'Oh,' said Stephen. 'Okay.'

Without further ado, he walked across the room to the giant L-shaped couch. Celia stood and watched as the little boy put the plate and cup on the floor, took the wooden tray leaning against the side of the couch and laid it on the pouffe. Then, with great care, he transferred the cup and plate to the tray, then pushed the whole pouffe towards the spot on the couch where he would sit.

A tear ran down Celia's face. Joey had taught their son this routine so that he would never spill drink on the couch, not even by accident. And there was Stephen, all by himself, without any expectation of praise or approval, simply doing what his father had taught him to do. Celia's presence was incidental—the boy would have done exactly the same thing even if she wasn't here watching.

'Stephen,' she said. 'Can I ask you something?'

Stephen looked up at her.

'Of course, Mummy.'

Celia put all the stuff on a chair near the door and came over to sit next to her son. She had opened the curtains to let in the pale morning light and Stephen looked like a small nocturnal animal with big, round eyes. He waited quietly for her question. Celia took a deep breath and spoke.

'How would you feel about having a brother or sister?' she said.

Stephen blinked. He looked over at the dark, blank flatscreen on the wall.

'I don't know,' he said.

He was quiet. Celia was about to say something, when she saw that Stephen was still thinking about the question. She watched his face, her own thoughts churning in her head. Bjorn never thought about anything. When he said, 'I don't know' you could add '...and I don't care' to pretty much everything. Whereas Joey was a thinker, who would ponder a question and come up with—pretty much always—an intelligent answer.

'I suppose it depends,' said Stephen finally. 'I mean, I wouldn't like it if it was someone like Billy Kilgrave.'

'Is he that kid at school who spilled paint on your backpack?'

'He didn't spill it. It was deliberate.'

'Oh.'

'I wouldn't like to have him for a brother.'

'I suppose not.'

'But if it was someone nice, that would be okay.'

Stephen looked up at her. His eyes were uncertain, as though wondering if this was the right answer. Celia wanted to grab the boy and cover him in hugs and kisses. Instead, she took his face in her hands and kissed his cheek.

'I love you so much,' she said.

'I know,' said Stephen. 'Can I watch cartoons now?'

Celia laughed, kissed his other cheek and got to her feet. She picked up the flatscreen remote and turned it on, then put the device on the couch next to Stephen.

'I'm going to shower and get dressed,' she said. 'And then I'll make us some breakfast. Okay?'

'Yes, Mummy.'

'I love you, Stephen.'

'I know. You already said.'

Celia shook her head, smiling as she walked away, rubbing the inside of a thigh muscle with her hand. She picked up the bundle of clothes on the chair, took hold of the whiskey bottle and glasses, and left the room. Stephen took a sip of cherry-flavoured milk and looked at the flatscreen. It showed the grown-up films and TV shows, including what his parents had seen. One title caught his eye.

'The World Made Yonder,' he read carefully. 'Who's Yonder?' he thought.

Still, the picture looked like one of those boring grown-up films set in olden times. Stephen picked up the remote and switched to the children's menu, looking for something more interesting.