Galatéa came home from her session with a pleasant buzz from the orgasms and other stimulation she had had. After speaking with Estrella for a few minutes, she dismissed the nanny for the night, played with Jessie before putting together a simple dinner for the both of them. After putting her daughter down for the night, Galatéa pulled out her phone and texted Gordon.
Galatéa: I had the most wonderful session with Poz this afternoon.
Galatéa: Want to hear about it?
She waited a minute for a response but nothing was immediately forthcoming. Galatéa tried to distract herself by watching some mindless show on her iPad but soon found herself drifting off.
She was awoken suddenly not by the expected buzz of her phone or an alert from the iPad shutting down, or even the light she had left on in her bedroom, but from her daughter screaming.
Immediately Galatéa was on her feet and running to the girl’s bedroom. Jessie was standing in the crib, screaming. Her face was red and she was drooling. The way she was howling and screeching made Galatéa think someone was murdering her baby.
As soon as she picked up Jessie, Galatéa could tell the little girl was burning with a fever.
Showing good motherly restraint, Galatéa didn’t panic. She offered Jessie her breast, but the baby didn’t want to nurse and Galatéa didn’t blame her. She took the girl’s temperature and while it was high, it wasn’t panic-inducing high. Rubbing her gums didn’t help. She tried baby Anbesol, but the analgesic didn’t seem to have any real effect. The next step was to administer some liquid Tylenol and wait, rocking her in the far too expensive chair that John had bought because he wanted to rock his baby for his wife during the bad nights but he wanted to be comfortable at the same time.
Almost an hour later Jessie was still screaming. Galatéa took her temperature again.
It was higher.
Only now did she start to truly worry and panic. Galatéa applied some cold, wet washcloths to the girl’s head, administered some liquid ibuprofen and waited.
She waited anxiously.
Half an hour later Jessie’s fever was up another half degree. She was still screaming and was miserable.
Making a decision, Galatéa threw on a t-shirt and leggings, put Jessie in a baby sleeper, got them both into her car and drove to the emergency room.
The entire way there she told herself it was nothing. She told herself she was panicking for no good reason. She told herself Jessie was just teething and it was a fever spike and she needed to give the Tylenol and ibuprofen more time to work.
The ER had a special pediatric section. It was the middle of the night and seemed empty. Anyone bringing children to the hospital in the wee hours were either truly concerned parents or delusional parents.
Galatéa hoped she was in the latter group.
A nurse saw them almost right away. Galatéa cuddled Jessie and settled into the uncomfortable hospital chair expecting to wait an hour for the doctor to see Jessie and immediately say she was just a mother who worried too much about her precious baby.
A minute after the nurse left, she reappeared with the doctor. Galatéa hoped it was because it was a slow night and the doctor wanted something to do.
Five minutes later the doctor summoned an IV tech to put a needle in Jessie’s arm to administer intravenous antibiotics.
“But it’s just a fever!” Galatéa protested.
“Your daughter has infections in both ears. Not unusual at this age, especially with her teething. We’ve been seeing antibiotic resistant infections lately. This is just a precaution.”
Galatéa just nodded her head, pretending she was understanding everything. “But an IV on a baby…”
“We don’t want to mess around and give it a chance to get worse. This is the best way.”
By this point Jessie was exhausted. Her screaming and crying had degenerated to whimpering and whining. She was almost asleep when the tech put in the needle. Galatéa expected another round of screaming, but Jessie just let out a small cry of pain and then went back to her semi-conscious state. Galatéa didn’t think that was a good sign.
“How long?” asked Galatéa.
“It should take less than an hour to get all of the pack into her,” said the doctor. She was an older woman with streaks of gray in her hair. They both looked at the tiny bag of slightly yellowish liquid that was now being forced into Galatéa’s baby’s tiny arm. The doctor looked at her clinically; Galatéa looked with barely controlled hysteria. “Then we want her here for a few hours so we can monitor her.”
Galatéa nodded. What else could she do?
The medical staff withdrew and Galatéa was left alone with Jessie. She kept rubbing her daughter’s back until the little girl fell asleep.
Only then did Galatéa remember that she had a phone and didn’t need to stare at her very sick daughter. It seemed a sin, a crime, a denial of her responsibility as a mother to take her eyes off Jessie, but she needed something to distract her, otherwise she’d be asking the ER staff for sedation for herself.
Naturally the first message that came up when she turned on the phone was from Gordon.
Gordon: Tell me all about it
Gordon: I want to hear what a slut you are
She knew he was just playing the game she had started. She knew that their relationship was just a sexual one, but it still seemed wrong.
Galatéa: I’m in the ER with my daughter
It had been hours since she had sent her teasing text to Gordon. He had no way of knowing what had happened in the interim. It was literally the middle of the night. He was probably asleep. Anxiety was what was keeping her awake.
She switched over to a mindless puzzle game she hadn’t played in weeks because she couldn’t go to sleep and there was nothing else to do in the ER.
A minute later her phone buzzed with a message from Gordon.
Gordon: It’s the middle of the night!!! What happened???
She looked at the message and burst into tears. The crying lasted less than a minute. She told herself crying was self-indulgent and she needed to be strong for Jessie.
She was tired of being strong.
More than anything Galatéa wanted to be weak for just a day, an hour, a minute. Maybe having dom sessions with Poz was the wrong thing to do. She couldn’t be weak during a session. She had to be strong.
Wiping away the tears, Galatéa pecked out a message on her phone.
Galatéa: She has a high fever. Very high. She’s on IV antibiotics right now.
It was exhausting explaining it to him even though the explanation was only a few words.
He replied back almost immediately.
Gordon: Which hospital? I’ll be there as soon as I can
Galatéa just stared at the message, uncomprehending. She knew what the words meant, but couldn’t understand why he was sending them to her.
She didn’t need him.
She didn’t need anyone.
She started crying again.
Galatéa: No. Don’t. I’ll be fine.
Galatéa: You have Brandon to deal with.
His response was almost immediate.
Gordon: I’ll bring him with me
Galatéa: Please don’t. It’ll just be a disaster here.
The last thing she wanted was undue attention in the ER or anywhere.
Gordon: But I should be there for you
Galatéa: Just be there for me when I get out of here in the morning.
Gordon: I can call you right now if you want
Galatéa: No. She just fell asleep.
Galatéa: I’ll call you in the morning.
That was enough for Gordon. He said to call if anything changed or she needed something. Galatéa checked the time. It was just after four am. She doubted that Gordon would be getting back to sleep, but maybe. It was only a couple more hours before he had to get up. Galatéa didn’t have to get up. She didn’t have a job, not a full time job. She could wait.
Somehow she managed to drift off to sleep after Jessie stopped whimpering. Even all the sounds of the staff and equipment of the ER didn’t keep her awake. That was the real miracle of the night.
It was past seven when the nurse came in to check on her and Jessie. Another miracle had struck and Jessie’s fever had broken. It was still high but was much better.
“Another hour and you can take her home.”
Galatéa nodded. She pulled her phone back out. Gordon hadn’t called or texted; she figured that was good. Instead of calling him she called Estrella and made arrangements for the day.
The moment she walked in the door, Estrella was waiting for them.
“How is my baby?” she said, taking Jessie’s small body from Galatéa.
“Better,” Galatéa mumbled her answer.
“Go to bed,” Estrella said. “I’ll watch over the both of you.”
Galatéa didn’t have enough energy to discuss it, let alone argue with the older woman. She nodded and stumbled to her bed, barely having time to kick off her shoes before falling asleep.
When she woke up, it was the afternoon. The house was quiet. Padding through the rooms she eventually found Estrella in Jessie’s nursery. The baby was asleep in the crib and her nanny was sleeping in the large, comfortable rocking chair.
Galatéa didn’t have it in her to disturb either one of them. Instead she left a note on the kitchen counter, grabbed her purse, and left the house.
She was halfway to Gordon’s place before she realized she hadn’t called or texted him. After pulling the car to the side of the road, she tapped out a quick text.
Galatéa: I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Be ready for me.
It was a bold move to just demand he be ready for her. Even she didn’t know exactly what she meant by it.
Gordon was waiting for her. She greeted him with a kiss.
“We have an hour before I have to pick up Brandon from preschool,” he said.
“More than enough time.” She pushed him insistently toward the bedroom.
Gordon didn’t resist. He had been working from home. That made sense to her because he wanted to be helpful and be there for him.
Right now she didn’t need his emotional support. She needed him for something else.
Upon entering the bedroom Galatéa just stripped off the t-shirt and bra she was wearing. Only when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror did she pause. Her hair was messy and not sexy messy. She had on no makeup; her skin was sallow and there were bags under her eyes. Chances were she probably smelled from not showering. The rasp of underarm hair chaffed her skin where the stubble was growing. There was no chance he would want to fuck her.
As soon as she turned around after removing her bra, Gordon was there, kissing her. She hadn’t expected that. His kisses were as comforting and familiar as always. His hand went to her full breast and gently cupped her soft flesh.
Immediately she winced and pulled away.
“What’s the matter?”
Galatéa gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I’m extra tender right now.”
“Why?”
“I guess because I didn’t pump recently and haven’t seen you for a couple of days…” Pausing, she realized she couldn’t remember the last time she had expressed her milk. Time was becoming a hazy concept for her. “But over the past few weeks I’ve been seeing a lot of you. And you’ve got a thing for my tits.”
He nodded and smiled. “I sure do. I can relieve some of that pressure for you…”
“Okay…but be gentle.”
Gordon could do that. A few more kisses moved them to the bed. His mouth stopped pressing to hers and instead sought out her nipple.
Galatéa took a deep breath and focused on relaxing. She knew she had to relax otherwise it would hurt.
His mouth was warm and soft. Her nipples were fully erect and hard. Gordon was gentle. He wrapped his lips around the delicate flesh on the crown of her breast and barely sucked.
She had to bite her lip to stop from crying out. The milk had built up and it was too much. The only thing she could do was moan a little as he nursed from her. Because her milk was right there and she was so full she felt like she was bursting, it was next to impossible for him to cause a letdown. Her tits wouldn’t respond to her need to release.
“Fuck…” she moaned loudly, hoping Gordon would interpret that was pure pleasure and not the mostly pain she was currently experiencing. “More…” she begged, wanting the ordeal to be over with.
She hadn’t leaked a single drop yet. His hand had been on her hip, but now he moved it to her free breast and gently squeezed, getting the measure of her flesh.
“Please,” she implored him.
He sucked hard on the nipple in his mouth.
It hurt. It fucking hurt.
And then both her nipples erupted with multiple streams of milk. Showing some degree of control, Galatéa moaned at the painful relief. She wanted to scream, but that would have been unseemly.
The streams of milk went everywhere. Gordon swallowed as quickly as he could, taking in all the liquid from the nipple in his mouth, but the other breast wouldn’t be denied. The milk shot up and fell back down, coating Galatéa’s chest, neck, and face. Gordon could feel the milk hitting his face but that didn’t stop him from continuing to suck. He knew the bed sheets were getting soaked, but he didn’t care. Some of it was getting in his hair and it didn’t bother him.
He squeezed both breasts to increase their output. It was like he had turned a fire hose on in his mouth. The moment he released the other breast he expected the milk to stop.
It didn’t. It continued to spray with abandon.
Gordon felt like he was being blessed with holy water.