Nitin was inside his wife when she started crying. Some women cry after having an orgasm. But Divya, was crying out of frustration. She loved her husband. And they had been together for five years before that night. But, as Nitin was pumping inside her, she started crying, because they were not having sex for the love for each other, but to get pregnant.
Nitin was so focused on fucking his wife, that it took him a full minute before he realized that she was crying. And when he looked up, he was close to cumming. He didn’t stop thrusting inside her through, for he had waited four days to fuck her. He fucked her till he came. As he filled Divya with his cum, he saw her covering her face with hands, sobbing, with her legs wide open, still in her nighty.
When he was done, and was sure that he has spilled every bit of his cum inside Divya, he removed himself from top of her, and laid beside his wife. Divya pulled her nighty down, covering her naked pussy, freshly fucked and filled with cum, and turned the other side.
Nitin looked at the ceiling and sighed. He knew why Divya was crying. He looked at his wife, her frame looking ever so delicate in the darkness of their bedroom. He touched her shoulder and said, “It’s going to be okay.”
Divya didn’t respond. Nitin could feel her body shudder, as she tried to muffle her cries.
“It will happen this time,” he said. The lack of conviction in his voice, made Divya turn toward him.
She was looking straight at her, her eyes, wet with her tears, her beautiful face sad with the deepest of sorrows that a woman can have.
“What if it doesn’t?” she asked.
“We will see another doctor. We will try different medicines. We —”
“We have done all this. And what has it gotten us?” Divya spoke between her teeth.
“We can always adopt—”
“No!” Divya said, grinding her teeth.
Nitin knew better to speak anything more. He knew Divya. After all, they had been married for five years, and had known each other for three years before that.
“Okay. Okay…” Nitin said, touching her bare arm, caressing it, to calm her down.
He adjusted himself, so that he was nearer to her. Divya, on cue, folded herself and entered his embrace. Nitin took a deep breath, and hugged his wife, and raised his legs to engulf her body entirely.
They stayed that way, till Divya fell asleep. Nitin was wide away though, thinking of everything in the world, except for the problem at the hand. After all, the problem that they had, didn’t have an easy solution.
Nitin and Divya had been trying to get pregnant for three years by then. They were both 32 years old. They got married, when they were 27. They were each others’ first love. They met while working in the same office. Neither were from Bombay. They were 24 when they had met, young professionals, enjoying the freedom of adulting.
Divya had lost her virginity to Nitin. And before Divya, Nitin had fucked once, in college. It was an unremarkable fuck, more awkward than pleasure. But the first time Nitin and Divya were together in bed, they had been a hot mess. In that hotel room, when Divya had shed her clothes and stood in front of him, she had stolen her heart.
One thing had led to another, and when the time to penetrate her had come, Nitin had chosen not to wear a condom. It was Divya’s first time, with a guy. She had watched intently as Nitin’s dick had entered her, vanishing inside her inch by inch. She had been in pain. She had gasped, she had winced, but she hadn’t closed her eyes.
Divya had the fairest of Indian skins. The darkest part of her body — the place between her legs, was fairer than Nitin. It was mesmerizing to see his thick brown dick enter her. It had felt raw and primal. She had fallen in love with him, the first time he had entered her.
That time, Nitin had fucked her, as if he would lose her if he stopped fucking. And when he was close to cumming, he had declared that. Divya had nodded yes, and he had finished inside her.
After they were done, when they were down from the high of lust, they had realized their mistake. The next few dates and the hundred phone calls between them, was about the pregnancy scare.
It’s an irony, how things change with time.
When Nitin woke up in the morning, Divya wasn’t beside him. She was an early riser, waking up at 6 AM every day, even though they had stayed up till 1 AM the night before, fucking and crying.
She was on the couch, scrolling through her phone, when Nitin had wished her good morning. She had smiled and had gone back to scrolling. She was already done with her morning ablutions. Divya was wearing a pair of shorts, and a tee shirt.
Even at 32, Divya had perky breasts and a flat belly. Her overall frame was slim, except for her breasts. Her arms were slender and delicate, her neck was the same, but her breasts were full and fleshing. She had her feet up on the coffee table in front of her. Her skin had a natural shine to it.
“I have made coffee for you too. Just warm it up,” she said. She pointed toward the kitchen. The fabric of the tee shirt moved, jiggling her braless breasts. Even after all these years, Nitin got excited by these little things about his wife.
As Nitin warmed his coffee, he was deep in thought. While falling asleep the night before, he had decided on something. A decision, that would change things.
The reason why Nitin and Divya hadn’t been able to conceive was — Nitin. He had no problem fucking or staying hard, it was just that he was sterile. They had gone to the doctors, and they would assure him that his sperm density would improve. He had quit drinking, he had quit smoking, hoping that his sperm quality will improve.
But, it’s been years, and nothing has changed. They have done everything — from a good diet, to exercises, to medicines, to timing their sex. Whenever they had sex these days, it was all about cumming inside Divya. They would not have sex for four days, so that Nitin gets to make his cum thick and warm. And then, when they had sex, it was not about pleasure. It was about getting through the session and then hoping that one thing among all the things that they have been doing, worked.
But every month, when Divya would get her period, she would break down. Nitin felt guilty, because after all, it was him who had the problem. Divya was his hot sexy wife, with a belly that craved to carry a baby. Nitin had suggested adoption many a time, but Divya wanted the child to be hers. Something that Nitin could not give.
He came out of the kitchen, and sat down beside Divya.
“Last night, I —”
“I am sorry about last night,” Divya cut him off. She felt her phone aside, and hugged Nitin, her arms curling around his chest, “I should have been stronger.”
Nitin kept his coffee down, and caressed Divya’s hair. There was a flicker of indecision, about the idea that he had.
“It’s okay,” he said, “I have an idea.”
Nitin told her his idea.
Divya was dumbstruck when she heard it. She looked at him, without blinking her eyes. Nitin was holding her hand when he was telling her the way he had thought of her getting pregnant.
“You have gone insane,” she finally said.
The tone of her voice unnerved Nitin. In all the years of being married to her, in all the fights they have been, the ugliest of them, Divya had been ballistic. Her voice was never even. But, that morning, on her couch, when Nitin told her about what he had in mind for her, Divya spoke in a cold voice.
“Divya, please. At least consider it —”
“Consider what? You want me to fuck other men, and make them cum inside me, so that I can be pregnant?!” Divya spoke at the top of her voice.
Nitin sighed. “Please calm —”
Divya abruptly got up from the couch, “Do you even understand what you are saying? I have never been with anyone other than you. And, I am your wife, for fuck’s sake!”
“You want a baby, which is yours. You want to give birth. And we have tried everything!” Nitin was agitated by then.
It had taken every bit of courage he had, every bit of reasoning he had, to propose this to Divya. After all, doing what he was suggesting, would mean finally accepting his sterility. And they raising a child who was not related to him, but to a faceless man, who will fuck his wife, and cum inside her.
Nitin got up, and walked up to her, “We both know, the problem is me. If I am okay with adopting a child, I am okay with raising a child who is —”
“A bastard?” Divya crossed her arms and looked away from him.
“He will be yours. Just as you have wanted. I love you, Divya. And I cannot see you being like this. Last night, when you were crying, it broke my heart. Do you think it was the first time I had thought about this?”
Divya looked at him, her eyes wide in astonishment. Her husband had been thinking about her with other men, not just an affair, but about her being fucked by another man, for her to carry a child in her belly that was not his.
“For how long?” she blurted.
“It doesn’t matter,” Nitin said, and rested his hands on her shoulders, “Listen, if we keep doing what we are doing, it will only push us apart. And I cannot lose you.”
“We can adopt…” Divya said, her voice feeling sad, even as she said it.
For as long as Divya had been a woman, she had thought about being a mother. At 32, almost all her friends were mothers. She would look at those cute babies, and at their mothers. She wanted someone to have a likeness of her. She wanted to see some likeness of her husband in the baby. Adopting a child, no matter, how much of love both of them will give to it, will not have those.
“See, you are sad even when you are saying it. And frankly, I do not want to destroy an innocent child’s life, by bringing it to a home in which her mother doesn’t approve of it,” Nitin squeezed her shoulders.
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