The day I met Marta, I was needy, blind and needy. It was one weekend after a breakup where my girlfriend, Teri, left me. Worse, she left me to be with another woman.
We had agreed to meet for lunch on the boardwalk in Venice beach. She arrived with Janice. I knew Janice, she lived in the same apartment complex as my girlfriend, Teri.
They were laughing and having lots of fun as they walked towards the restaurant where I was waiting.
When they came to my table I expected Teri to sit beside me but they both sat across from me. We ordered lunch and they talked about a party at the pool at their apartment complex the night before.
During lunch they talked about women they both knew, people I didn’t know. I couldn’t say much, so I didn’t. As the waiter took our empty plates away I asked Teri what we were going to do for the rest of the day. They looked at each other, smiled and Teri said, “WE aren’t doing anything for the rest of the day. Janice and I are going shopping and then out to dinner together. We came to lunch today so I could break up with you. Janice and I are together.”
Slapping my face would have hurt less. To say I was shocked and surprised would have been the understatement of 2006! I didn’t say anything. When they leaned together and kissed it was like a spark jumped into me. I stood up and said, “Well, thanks for lunch.”
Instead of walking across the outside area of the restaurant, back through the restaurant and then out onto the boardwalk, I just vaulted over the three foot wall and walked off. They could pay for lunch.
The week was tough. In my head, I kept seeing the kiss and picturing Teri in bed with Janice. That she would drop me to be with another woman hurt in places I didn’t know I had.
My brother Jack decided we ought to go to his company picnic the next Saturday. They would be playing a softball game, his department against the sales department and he said they needed a good first baseman. I figured, what the hell, it was free food and softball.
Each team had three women. On our team, the three were really good looking women, all wearing shorts and t-shirts. We were on the field first and Marta took second base. Cathy was in right field and Pat was our pitcher.
Marta got my attention after the first pitch. The sales manager was first up and he hit the first pitch: a grounder past the pitcher to second. Marta charged the ball, picked it up barehanded and tossed it to me on the run! The woman could play!
I cheered her on and for the rest of the game I was her biggest fan. We won the game eleven to six. During the picnic after the game, we sat together and talked as we ate. Winning and her smile hooked me. She was dressed more conservatively that the other two women on our but I could tell she had a great body.
Over the next couple of weeks I saw her three times. We went to dinner all three times. We attended a concert, walked on the beach (not the beach in Venice) and went to an exhibit she wanted to see at a museum. When I took her home each time I got a good kiss but nothing more.
We slept together for the first time after our forth date. We had gone to a party she had been invited to over in the valley. About forty people in the backyard of a friend of hers for a bar-b-que. The food was good and the party going well until her ex showed up with a date. She didn’t say anything for a while but I could tell something had gone wrong for her at the party.
She asked me to take her home. It wasn’t even nine o’clock so I knew something was up. When we got to my car she kissed me harder and longer than any of our kisses before. She asked if I would be willing to take her home and stay the night.
We made the trip in record time. Inside her apartment we didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Our clothes came off just inside the door and we dropped to the floor and fucked like there would be no tomorrow.
No foreplay. Damn few kisses. Primal, animal fucking with sweat, moans and screaming along with the slapping sounds of our bodies slamming together. She came loudly when she came. Her fingernails dug into my upper arms and actually drew blood.
We rested for a couple minutes on her rug and then she got us up and into the shower. After the shower she took me to bed and we did it again. Again we mated without foreplay and few kisses. She sucked me harder for five seconds then rode me for the silver buckle. I loved watching her D-cup breasts bounce as she straddled my waist and rode me hard. For a lot of the time she held her eyes closed and when she came she called me Jack.
Jack isn’t my name. It is the name of her ex. I didn’t say anything. Three days later I could still feel where our pubic bones had slammed together.
The next morning I expected some more bedroom play and breakfast. She expected to be taken out for breakfast. I took her out for breakfast. By noon I was on my way home. I was happy. Well fucked, bruised and happy.
Marta called me the next day. She wanted to know if I would take her to another concert she wanted to attend. I said I would and I did. That evening cost me four hundred dollars. I listened to music I didn’t like much, took her home afterwards and got a hand job. She said she was too tired for sex. She sent me home after the hand job.
The middle of the next week she knocked on my door at six in the evening. I let her in and she undressed in my living room. She apologized for sending me home with just a hand job and we fucked all over my apartment. At about eleven Marta showered, got dressed and went home. Not very romantic, but great sex.
Over the next six months I took her lots of places she wanted to go. Sometimes I enjoyed where we went and sometimes I was the escort and my liking it didn’t matter. Every time I recommended we go dancing, to a movie, or anything remotely romantic Marta didn’t want to go. The lack of foreplay, snuggling, and other non-fucking affection started to really bother me. The only time she liked her wonderful tits touched was when I had my cock inside her.
Outside the bedroom, she dressed conservatively. No mini-skirts. No deep plunging necklines. Her nipples never poked at the confines of her clothing in any way I could see. Even her swimsuit was conservative. It was a two piece but it covered a lot.
By the time we had dated for six months I was getting the feeling that I was a wallet with a dick. When we were together I paid for everything. The sex was wild but there wasn’t much else between us. We went where Marta wanted to go and I got laid for taking her. I looked back and figured out that I was paying about four hundred dollars for every night I spent with her.
One Saturday morning she called me and asked if I would take her shopping. We were scheduled to go to a play on Sunday and she said she needed to get something to wear to the play. I had paid almost three hundred dollars for the tickets for the play. I was getting the feeling she wanted me to buy her a dress too.
“Marta, I’ll take you shopping, if you’d like. Where do you want to go?”
“I’d like you to take me to the Century City Mall. I know we can find something wonderful there.”
“Marta, am I buying?”
“I’m willing to drive, be with you, offer my opinion when asked and even buy lunch. I’m not willing to buy whatever it is you are shopping for. I just can’t afford it.”
“I thought you would want me to look nice for our date tomorrow.”
“I do. I’m sure you have lots of outfits in your closet that would look great on you for tomorrow.”
“All the things in my closet are old. I need something new for tomorrow.” She said the word need with extra emphasis.
“I don’t think our relationship is at the place where I pay for all your wants and needs. That happens in some marriages. I’m not ready for marriage.”
“If you aren’t taking me shopping, our date for tomorrow is off.”
“Really? So our date isn’t about being together? Our date is about getting me to pay for the privilege of taking you somewhere?”
“Aren’t you happy when people see me with you?”
“Sure. They think we are a couple. Now I’m finding out we aren’t a couple. You’re just using me for all you can get.”
“You get something too.” Marta’s voice had a whiney tone to it.
“You mean the sex?”
“Aren’t I good?”
“We’ve been dating for over six months. Shouldn’t the question be, ‘aren’t we good together?”
“I like our sex together.”
“I’m not taking you shopping today. I’ll be at your apartment at noon to pick you up tomorrow for the play.”
“I won’t be going to the play. I have nothing to wear.”
“I’ll be there at noon. If you want to be with me tomorrow, be dressed when I arrive. I’m sure you can afford a new dress from your own wallet if you really want a new dress. Good-bye.” I hung up.
The next day I washed my car. I put on my gray suit and arrived at Marta’s five minutes before noon. As I walked to her apartment I passed by the pool. She was on a chaise lounge by the pool in her blue two piece bathing suit. I got out my cell phone and took a picture of her. Then, without saying anything, I turned around and went to the theatre. I got half price for my tickets and felt good that I got anything.
During the week I didn’t call. I was starting to look around at other women. On Friday evening I was sitting in my living room and the phone rang. Caller ID said it was Marta.
“You looked good in your gray suit.”
“You looked nice in your blue suit.”
“Do you remember you promised to take me to Long Beach next Saturday?”
“Yes. You promised to take me.”
“You’re right. We have… I have tickets for the whale watching boat next Saturday.”
“You are still taking me, aren’t you?”
“Sure.” A plan was starting to grow in my mind. “Would you like dinner the night before?”
“That would be nice. Where?”
“Since we will be going on the boat in Long Beach the next morning quite early, let’s go to Long Beach on Friday night, eat at that fancy place right on the water and stay in a nice hotel for the night. I’ll get us a nice room with a view of the harbor.”
“Now, you’re talking. That sounds good.”
After our call I called a friend of mine who is a research chemist. He laughed when I told him what I needed. I emailed him the picture I had taken of Marta on the chaise lounge. On Tuesday he called back and said that what I wanted would be ready on the Tuesday before Marta and I would be in Long Beach. I thanked him.
I didn’t hear from Marta again until the Thursday before we would be going. I had a message from her on my machine when I got home from work.
“Please call me.”
I did. During the conversation I asked if she remembered the notice in the brochure for the boat trip telling us to wear swimwear as we would be getting splashed. She didn’t remember but was glad I had reminded her. She said she had been thinking about wearing white shorts and a white top which would have been embarrassing when they got wet.
I asked her what color dress she was going to wear when we went out Friday night. She asked why I wanted to know. I told her I wanted to dress to go with what she wore, not clash. She said she would wear a little black dress.
When I picked her up late on Friday afternoon she was looking good in her little black dress. It had something in the fabric that made it sparkle as the light hit it. She wore four inch heels, shiny stockings and she had glitter on the exposed parts of her chest. I felt my reaction inside my slacks. I carried her small suitcase and put it next to mine in the trunk of my car.
As she got into the car she gave me a good lingering look at her legs. She pulled the hem of her dress up as she sat, exposing both legs all the way up to her pussy. She had never gone without panties before. I looked and she reached out and touched my hard cock through my slacks.
“Like what you see?” She asked.
“Yes! I like what I see. May I have a taste?”
She spread her legs wide and I dipped a finger into her, finding her wet. I sucked on my finger as I went around to get in the driver’s seat. By the time I sat down her dress was pulled down to a more conservative level.
We listened to music and had very little conversation on our way to Long Beach. At the restaurant she was careful not to let the valet parking guy see that she wasn’t wearing panties.
We had a table next to the windows overlooking the marina. She ordered lobster. So did I. I also made sure we had a bottle of good wine. We finished the bottle, with me drinking exactly one glass. Half way through the meal she asked, “Have you been thinking about my bare pussy?”
“Yes! Why did you do that?”
“I need new underthings. Perhaps, after we get back from the whale watching we could go shopping and get me some bras and panties?”
“Wow! I guess you do need them. Do you know of a store that carries what you need here in Long Beach?” I was thinking that I was being played like a trout.
“No. But I know of a couple up closer to home that carry nice things.”
“If you aren’t wearing panties because you need new ones, does that also mean that you don’t have a bra on either?”
Marta looked around the restaurant to see if someone was looking at us. She shrugged the thin strap off her shoulder and used one hand to lower the front of her dress enough to show me her nipple. She blushed and pulled the dress back up.
“The inside of the dress has been rubbing against my nipples for hours. They are almost sore.”
“When we get to the hotel I promise to rub lotion on them.”
Marta smiled. She felt she had made a good case for getting me to buy her new bras and panties. Expensive bras and panties, I would have bet on that.
Dinner came to just under a hundred dollars, not counting the tip. I paid. We walked back to my car and drove to the hotel.
As we walked in Marta said, “You forgot our bags.”
“No, I didn’t. I want to walk in just you and me. Let people see that we came all dressed up and are going to our room. That can only mean they will be looking at me and saying, “Lucky man! She’s beautiful and she’s going to bed with him.”
“I told you you liked it when people saw us together. I was right.”
“Yes. You were right.”
Our room was on the twelfth floor. The windows offered a great view of the harbor. I opened the drapes wide and shut off all the lights, except one bedside lamp. I took Marta in my arms and unzipped the dress. She never let a dress fall to the floor so I helped her step out of it and I hung it in the closet.
I loved seeing her standing there in just her heels and thigh high stocking. I got the bottle of lotion from the bathroom and applied lotion to her tits. I took lots of time and made sure I lavished attention to both tits and their nipples. It was the first time she had allowed so much breast play. When the lotion was absorbed I sat on the bed and sucked her nipples.
“I’m sorry you didn’t have a bra to wear tonight. I hope what I’ve done makes your breasts feel a little better.”
“Yes. That helps. Getting new bras will help even more.”
Marta helped me up and she undressed me. I had carefully hung her dress in the closet, as she had done every time we had sex except the first time. She tossed my suit and shirt at a chair. The coat landed on the chair but the pants fell on the floor. My boxers were left on the floor where they fell.
Marta pushed me onto my back on the bed. She climbed on the bed as I fell. Actually, she climbed on me as I fell on the bed. How she got my cock into her pussy so quickly was and is a mystery but not one I’ll worry about.
Riding me as I watched her tits was her favorite way to fuck me. She had all the control. Once or twice, from that position, I wondered if she had a Sybian at home. She rode me like I was just a machine for her enjoyment. She bounced up and down on me and ground her pussy against my pubic bone for a while. Her eyes were closed as she rode me.
When Marta came she cried out in language I had never heard before. I didn’t know if it was really words or just sounds. She held still, gripping my cock within her cunt, until her orgasm subsided. She slid off me and turned so she could finish me off with her mouth. Marta’s tongue and mouth were magical. In just a couple minutes she had me filling her mouth with all the juice my balls could provide. I bellowed and then stiffened my entire body.
We showered and went back to the bedroom. The room smelled like sex. I put my suit back on so I could go back and get our bags. She turned her back to me and went to sleep. I went to my car. I opened her suitcase and removed her blue bathing suit. I took it’s duplicate from my suitcase and put it in hers. I stashed her suit under the carpet of the trunk. I carried both suitcases up to our room. I undressed and climbed into bed with her. Touching was not allowed.
Very early the next morning we got up and dressed for the whale watching tour. She dressed in the suit, not noticing it was not her suit. I wore shorts and a t-shirt. We both wore sandals. We got breakfast at the dock and boarded the whale watching boat. There were twenty or so people aboard. Most were in shorts and bathing suits. On the upper deck there were seats as well as seats inside the boat. I asked Marta to go up and get us two seats on the far side of the boat. I told her I needed to use the bathroom.
As she went up the ladder to the top of the boat I noticed my friend, the chemist, following her up the ladder with a camera around his neck. He smiled at me. Once Marta was out of sight I got off the boat. I went around a pallet of boxes and waited out of sight until the boat had left. I walked back to my car and drove home.
On the drive my cell phone rang. It was my friend.
“Your lady is upset. She searched the boat after we were out of the breakwater. When she discovered you were gone she asked the captain to take her back to the dock. He refused and told her to enjoy the tour. She’s sitting right up front sulking.”
“Have you hit any waves yet?” I asked.
“No, but we’re going to. The captain loves splashing the tourists at least once each trip. He told me that right after I slipped him a fifty. I’ll call you again when she’s wet.”
“Take some good pictures.”
“I have a camera that can take twenty shots in half a minute.”
I was all the way home when the phone rang again. “Your lady went forward to the railing near the bow of the boat. The captain picked that moment to turn us into a wave and drenched her. The suit is completely wet and so is her hair. If she had fallen overboard she wouldn’t be any wetter.”
“You’re having fun aren’t you?”
“Yes. If my calculations are correct the chemistry will work in five minutes. I’ll call you soon.”
I got some iced tea, a book I was reading and a towel and went out by the pool. I put the cell phone right next to me on the chaise lounge. Fifteen minutes later it rang.
“It worked! I was watching. She was still standing by the railing looking at two whales out a couple hundred yards from us. Everyone was looking at the whales. The suit got paler and paler and then turned into colored water and dripped onto the deck. The spray from the waves was hitting everyone so she didn’t notice what was happening. I took lots of pictures of her from behind. I got against the railing and got some good shots of her tits too. She still hadn’t noticed she was nude.”
“The boat turned and she moved away from the railing to walk to the stern. I got three quick shots before a kid said, “Momma look!” and pointed at her. She looked down saw she was nude and screamed! Everyone looked at her and started laughing. She stood there yelling your name and calling you a bastard. She waved her arms and for a minute I thought she was going to jump overboard. I got lots of pictures. Finally a woman brought her a towel and covered her up.”
“Where is she now?”
“Curled up inside the cabin wrapped in the towel. Last I saw, she was crying.”
“Thanks. When you get home, send me the pics Ok?”
“Yeah. Where are you?”
“How is she going to get home?”
“I have no idea. I have her suitcase, her purse and her clothes.”
“Ok with you if I volunteer to take her home?”
“Go for it! If she fucks you, count it as a bonus from me.”
We hung up. I called my brother and told him I would have some great pictures for him the next day. He and I went to a sports bar and watched a replay of the super bowl. It was nearly eleven when I got home.
Sitting on the step in front of my apartment was a woman who was still wrapped in a towel. Her hair was dry and looked like she had been thrown overboard. She had been crying. As I approached she looked up at me. I wondered what foul language I was about to hear.
“I’m sorry,” she said. Her voice was soft and almost girl like. I stopped. She’s sorry? For what, I wondered.
“I deserved what you did. I’ve been using you all along to get whatever I could from you. Now, I’ve been publicly humiliated. Everyone on the boat saw me naked. If a man hadn’t volunteered to bring me home I would probably been arrested and I’d be in jail in Long Beach.”
“Why aren’t you home?”
“You have my purse, my keys, my clothes. If he had taken me home I couldn’t get in. I had him bring me here.”
“Oh.” Her things were still in the trunk of my car. I turned and started to walk away.
“Don’t leave me, please.”
“I’m going to my car to get your things.”
She got up and followed me. I opened the trunk, opened her suitcase and pulled her suit out from under the carpet. As I put the suit in the suitcase she said, “I will never wear it again.”
I handed her the suitcase and her purse. She held the towel against her body and held the suitcase with her other hand.
“Would you like a lift home?”
“Yes. Can I get dressed first?”
“No. Fold the towel and sit on it. I want to see you naked all the way to your house.”
She looked down. She put the suitcase down and folded the towel. She was nude, standing next to my car in the garage of my apartment building. I opened the trunk and put her purse and suitcase inside. I opened her door, she put the towel down and got in. I got in and drove her home. We didn’t talk.
Her normal posture of superiority was replaced with the posture of a defeated woman. She didn’t look out the window once. Her hands were folded in her lap.
I pulled into the parking spot behind her car and shut off the engine of my car.
“If you ask nicely, I’ll carry your suitcase to your front door. That way you can wrap yourself in the towel. If you don’t ask nicely, I’m going to put your suitcase and purse on the table right there and I’m leaving. The towel goes with me.”
Tears slid down her cheeks. She looked at me, but not in the face. It took almost a minute before she spoke.
“I want you to come inside with me. I have no right to ask you to be nice to me. I screwed up! I am so ashamed, embarrassed and humiliated. I know now I was wrong to do what I did. Can you possibly ever forgive me?”
“Why should I?”
“I have learned my lesson! I can be the girlfriend you want me to be. You’ll see!”
“Get out of my car… please.”
She got out. She didn’t even reach for the towel. I got out and got her suitcase and purse from the trunk. I opened her purse and handed her the keys to her apartment. I picked up the suitcase.
“You want to use the towel?”
“Yes. May I?”
She wrapped herself in it and led the way to her apartment. She unlocked the front door and we went inside. I put the suitcase on the floor and her purse on the dining room table.
“Take off the towel, Marta, and the sandals. Come with me.” I led the way into her bedroom. I opened the top drawer of her chest of drawers. It was full of bras and panties.
“Get a trash bag, Marta. Get it now!” She ran to her kitchen. When she came back I had her open the bag and I picked up a pair of panties from the drawer.
“You told me you didn’t have any panties to wear. What are these? Rags?”
“Yes, Honey. Rags.”
“Good. I can use them to polish my car.” Every pair of panties went into the bag. Some still had tags on them from Nordstrom’s. I lifted a bra and asked, “This isn’t a bra is it? You don’t have any bras.”
“It’s a rag.” All the bras went into the bag.
“Marta, go get me another bag.” I took the one filled with bras and panties from her. While she was gone I put one white bra back in the drawer. She came back after I had closed that drawer and opened the next. I tied the full bag closed.
“Put the bag of rags by the front door, please.” She did as I asked. The next drawer was filled with pantyhose and stockings. All the pantyhose went into the bag. Drawer by drawer I went through her things.
When I was done there were three white kitchen bags sitting by the front door. Marta had not complained or argued with me once. She had quietly cried.
We went back into her living room and I sat on her couch. She stood near me but didn’t sit.
“Marta, we are going to talk. You will answer my questions with all the honesty you can. If you lie to me I am leaving and I won’t come back. Is that what you want?”
“I want to be honest with you and I want you to stay.”
She sat right where she had been standing, on the floor.
“Why did you start going out with me?”
“Your brother is thought of as a nice guy at work and he’s easily manipulated by some of the women there. I thought you would be as easy.”
“Why did you fuck me that first time?”
“I saw my ex at the party and saw him squeeze her ass. I wanted that to be me. I couldn’t have him but I knew I could have you.”
“You often keep your eyes closed when you ride me. Are you making believe it is his cock and not mine?”
“I was. Yours is better. I still close my eyes but I’m not thinking of him anymore.”
“Who told you that men exist to be manipulated? Who told you that relationships are all about getting?”
“My mother and older sisters. That’s how they live.”
“Are they happy?”
“Not really. Every day they are plotting how to get more.”
“Would you like to be happy?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“Why don’t you like having your breasts played with?”
“It feels too good. A boyfriend once sucked me and I had an orgasm. I don’t like letting anyone have that much power over me.”
“That’s the same reason you don’t allow foreplay isn’t it? You lose control.”
“Sitting here, right now, who has the power?”
“No Marta. You do. I only have power in your life that you give me. At the car, you could have taken your purse and suitcase and walked off. You could have yelled at me to get out when I started going through your things in the bedroom. Even if I lay you on the floor and fuck you right now, you have the power to give yourself to me or withhold yourself from me. You have power.”
“I am afraid.”
“Fear can be a good thing. In this case it might help you change your thinking. Maybe, out of this humiliation you can learn to actually have a relationship with me or someone.”
“You. I want it to be with you.”
“Tell me why?”
“When I was sitting inside the whale watching boat I had almost two hours to think. No one else has ever cared enough to teach me a lesson. Kenny just left. He quit calling and quit buying me things. Bart stopped calling and stopped taking me places. They didn’t do anything except stop. They didn’t even yell at me. You did.”
“I haven’t yelled.”
“No. You didn’t yell. You cared.”
“Ok. Our relationship is going to be different from now on. When we go places we both get to pick where. If you want to go somewhere expensive, you pay half. When we have sex we do what I want and I will promise you will have orgasms too. For at least a while no more cowgirl sex. Any problem, so far?”
“Can you cook?” She nodded. “Then do so. I like home cooked meals. We can go out but not every date and picking the most expensive item on the menu is rude.”
“Yes. No problem.”
“I want you to do something for me. You might like it, you might not. I want you to shave your pubes. All the hair. If you don’t want to shave it then get waxed. Tomorrow is Sunday. I will see you for dinner on Wednesday evening. You are cooking that night, here. When I arrive I want you to kiss me with enough passion that my socks melt, then I want you to show me your bald puss. Understand?”
“Yes. I’ll do it for you.”
I used her phone and called a pizza place. They said they would deliver in thirty minutes or less.
In twenty five minutes I got a twenty from my wallet and handed it to Marta. Her eyes went wide and she said, “Naked?”
“Yes. Naked. Think about how you have treated me for months. Blush if you want to, but answer the door naked.”
I sat where I could see the front door and Marta. The bell rang and she jumped. Holding the twenty tightly in one hand she opened the door and saw that the pizza delivery was a twenty-something woman. She got the pizza and gave her the twenty. I called out, “Keep the change.”
The young woman called back, “Thank you. Good night.”
As we ate I asked, “When you opened the door did you notice your nipples were erect?”
“Were you wet, too?”
“The bras and panties that are over there in the bags are things you got other men to buy you, aren’t they?”
“Every time you put one on you think about the man who bought it. That’s why they are trash. Tomorrow you are going shopping. You can buy any bras you want. You will pay for them with your money. Buy panties for when you are on your period. The rest of the time you will not wear panties. That will remind you of the way you tried to manipulate me.”
“Ok. I deserve that.”
“Look at the clock. It reads 7:44pm. I’m going to ask you one more question tonight. I don’t want you to say anything until eight o’clock. Then you can answer the question. I’ll ask the question then I’m taking the trash out. I’ll be back before eight. Leave the door open. If I come back and the door is closed, I will take that as a no answer and I will go home. Once again, you have the power.”
“What’s the question?”
“Do you love me?”
I picked up the three trash bags and walked out. I put them in the trunk of my car, not the trash. Near the apartment where I lived was a battered women’s shelter. I would drop the bags there.
At two minutes to eight I walked up to her door. Not only was it open but the screen door was propped open as well. The coffee table had been moved and a blanket spread in the middle of the living room floor. Marta was in the middle of the blanket, on her back. Her ass had a pillow under it and her legs were spread wide. Her pussy was freshly shaved and written just above it, across her belly, were the three letters “YES.”
I closed the screen and the door.