It's Magic

"It's magic," I said.

Then I rubbed my tummy. "Really, it's all right here. Every drop. My supernormal abilities don't stop with the outside. What's inside is special too. My metabolism and my ability to heal are both very fast. My hand is already almost completely healed, see? My sex organs are more efficient too. A normal girl's cervix dilates a little when she has sex. It also dips down to try to get cum inside the uterus when she climaxes. When you and I fuck, my cervix dilates big enough to let the head of your cock poke up inside my womb and it sucks up any cum you leave in me. Then it clamps shut again to trap it all inside. You can probably feel some of that going on."

Bud nodded. Most of what had happened last night had been my sex organs having their own little party with him without my conscious mind being invited.

"So all that cum you pumped into me last night will stay right here for a while. I can feel it sloshing around inside when I move. It's a nice reminder of the fun we had. After a few hours it gets absorbed somehow. I don't understand how, but there is a lot about this that I haven't figured out yet."

"Thanks," he said. "The sex-ed stuff we get in Health and PE doesn't go into much detail. I knew you'd give me the straight dope."

"No problem," I said, as Neeka and I headed for the door. "See you later."

When we were outside my knees went weak and I leaned on the wall for support.

"Uh oh," Neeka said. "I hope you're wrong."

"No shit," I said. "I didn't think if it until just now. Explaining the female reproductive system to Bud brought it to mind. With my super-fast metabolism, what if I'm not taking enough birth-control pills? Oh, shoot! What if I'm already pregnant?"

Both of us rifled through the drawers in my bathroom until we found what we needed — a pregnancy test kit with a current date.

"Mom is a wonder!" I said. "She doesn't miss a thing."

I ripped open the package and sat down on the toilet to pee on the stick. After the recommended time, the indicator showed a strong negative.

"Whew!" I said. "That's a relief."

"I hate to burst your bubble," Neeka told me, "but those things only work after you have been pregnant long enough to trigger the test. That can be up to two weeks."

The stricken look on my face drove her to search for a way to reassure me. She picked up my pill dispenser and looked at it.

"Is this the one you're using?" She asked, flipping it over to read the label on the back.

"Yes." I said. "It looks like it. But it looks different than the one she gave me last week. That one was kind of peach colored. This one is almost orange. Did she switch them?"

"Maybe. The pills in this one are 100 micrograms."

"Is that good?"

"Sam, that dose will keep a horse from getting pregnant. Most pills today are 20 to 35 micrograms. 50 is considered a high dose. It looks like Bambi is more on top of things than we thought."

"Remind me to do something extra nice for her later."

"Just go tell her you love her."

"That sounds like the voice of authority."

"Yah. Well, your name did come up a few times last night. You know, in between the sex and all."

"Unhunh. And... ?"

"I don't know if I should tell you this."

"Why? Because it would make me unhappy?"

"Because it would give you a swelled head, ninny!"

"Hunh?"

"That woman thinks the sun rises and sets on you. She doesn't use the word much, but when I spoke of you as her 'daughter', her face lit up like a highbeam headlight on a Harley. She told me that every day you find some way to make her life better. She said you've made her feel fifteen years younger and happier than she has been since Ben died. She probably sits around just thinking of ways she can help you and try to pay you back for being in her life. She's down in the kitchen now, waiting to see what you would like to eat for breakfast. I'm supposed to ask, by the way."

"Gee!"

"I told you it would give you a swelled head."

"Gee!"

"Unhunh. Now take your horse-pill of hormones, get in the shower and I'll go tell her you want French toast."

"Hunh?"

"She has a recipe for French toast that she wants to try. You'll eat it and like it."

"OK," I said, swallowing the pill and turning on the shower. "You're awful pushy today."

"I like your Mom a lot. She's a lot of fun and she's a great person. We got on fantastically last night. We talked just like best friends. I totally kept forgetting it's her house. I kept expecting someone to walk in and tell us to be quiet and go to sleep.

"You know, she told me she's jealous of me because I can read your mind. She'd give anything to be able to do that."

"Gee!"

"You hop in the shower and see if you can work on improving your vocabulary. I'll be downstairs telling Bambi what a great mother she is."

The shower felt great. Even though Bud had done most of the work, I had taken all of the pounding and the hot water soaked away the slight soreness very nicely. Bud's asking about the cum had made me more aware of the amount of it I had in me. I flexed my stomach and felt the extra weight and bulk moving around. I wondered if I could get enough cum in me to look a couple of months pregnant. I wondered if being pregnant would feel anything like this. I wondered about what it would be like to actually be pregnant; to carry a baby around inside my body; to have it grow and develop inside me. It must be an amazing experience, I thought. For a moment, I felt disappointed that I wasn't pregnant.

One day — I promised myself. One day, I would have the chance to experience it. Just not anytime soon. I had responsibilities that took precedence over some of the things that I would like to do and I took those responsibilities very seriously.

I thought back over the things I had done in the last few days. So very few! And I had accomplished so much! Even if I only counted the lives I had probably saved, I was a great success as a superheroine. Even if I had only saved one person, I could consider myself a success. I knew I was still barely an amateur. I knew I had a lot of work ahead of me. I knew I had only begun to explore and develop my abilities, but it felt very good to know that in the short time since I had discovered the things I could do, that I had made a difference. I had done something important! I savored that feeling. I hugged it to me and cherished it. I might never get recognition or kudos or medals or ribbons or the key to the city or my picture in the paper or any of the things that we are told are the ways by which the importance of someone is measured, but I had something far more valuable than any of that. I knew I could make a difference. Maybe I had told Bud wrong. Maybe I did walk around all day feeling 'super'. Just not in the way he meant it.

When the coffee began to wake me up, I remembered Neeka telling me how excited she was to discover that she could tap into my unconscious mind and visit me in my dream. The memory of my dreams had begun to fade as soon as my eyes opened, but I remembered her telling me that she had been able to see what I was dreaming and even to participate in it. I remembered asking her to see if she could 'talk' to me while I was asleep, but it never occurred to me that she might be talking to my unconscious mind. The idea that someone could share my dreams was as incredible to me as the idea that someone could read my mind was when it first happened. I understood why she was excited. If there is any validity to the idea that dreams are an indication of the psychological state of the person, and that they are loaded with symbolism that the dreaming mind does not recognize, then having someone who is conscious monitor your dreams would be incredibly valuable as a tool of psychoanalysis. I had my own personal shrink!