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Join date : 2013-05-05
Location : Where the lonely people come from

PostSubject: Close Enough (SFW)   Thu Oct 17, 2013 10:23 am

I'm just going to post this here.
Be warned: it is really bad.
It is cringe-inducing.
I'm not saying it's racist, or disgusting (maybe) or loaded with grammar errors.
However, that does not mean it is not one of the worst stories of all time.
I will post it in its entirety, as it is short.
This is: It's all too much

Oh…Paul…do it more…MORE…HARDER! FASTER! PAUL!! OH PAUL!!” I moaned and gasped as Paul thrust deeply inside of me. We breathed heavily as we rocked rhythmically back and forth together on the bed. Then I started to get this strange feeling as Paul caressed my breasts and he slid his tongue into my mouth. A feeling almost like I was coming into him, even though I knew that that was impossible. Right before he came, he pulled out, because we didn’t want (or need) me to get pregnant.

The next morning…

“I feel sick,” Paul said as he clutched his stomach.

“Oh, baby, was it something you ate last night?” Before he could respond, he darted for the bathroom. When I caught up with him, he was throwing up near the toilet.

“Sweetheart? Are you okay?” I felt his forehead; he didn’t really feel warm. “Paul, I’m going to get you some ginger-ale, alright?”

“Okay,” he said weakly. There were tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “I haven’t thrown up in years,” he moaned as he broke into tears.

“Oh honey, it’s alright, you’re going to be fine…it’s probably just a virus, or something…” I said, trying to comfort him.

I went into the kitchen and poured some ginger-ale and wet down a washrag with cold water, and walked back with them to him.

When I returned to the bathroom, Paul had himself propped up against the wall, and he was EXTREMELY pale. I helped him lie down on the floor, put the washcloth to his forehead, and propped up his head with a big fluffy pillow. He was panting, out of breath. I guided the glass to his mouth since he was too shaky to hold it on his own. Shortly after he finished it, he passed out.

“Paul? PAUL?!? Speak to me!!!” After a few minutes, his eyes slowly began to open, and he got sick again…except this time, it was on himself.

“Oh Paul…” I said as he kept getting sick all over everything. “I’m making you a doctor’s appointment. I’ll be back…” I said to him as I headed into the living room for the phone.

I called his doctor, and he said that he could see him…but it’d be about a week before until then.

So a week passed, and Paul’s condition was about the same…if not worse! He seemed to be sicker in the mornings than any other time of day or night.

I drove Paul to the doctor’s that day. I waited several hours in the waiting room for him, worrying the whole time.

Finally, after 5 hours, he came out, and he wore a VERY strange face, one that I’d never seen on him before.

“Um…the doctor needs to see both of us in his office…”

“Why? Are you dying? Are you gonna be okay?!?”

“I’m not dying; I’ll be fine. But he NEEDS to see us.”

“Alright,” I said.

We walked into his office, which smelt heavily of rubbing alcohol, might I add. The doctor had a very solemn face, which I knew couldn’t possibly be a good sign.

“Mrs. McCartney?” he asked.

“Actually no, we’re not exactly married…”

“Oh. Well, your boyfriend here, um, well it’s hard to explain. I examined him thoroughly, and I couldn’t find anything wrong with him. Then he said that you two had sex the other night, and just on a lark, I ran several more tests on him, and it turns out that the fertilization process worked backwards…” Then he brought out a diagram of the female and the male reproductive systems. “You see, your egg traveled out of you and into his penis, where it probably mixed with his sperm right about here. Then it kept going up, and apparently it somehow made it’s way into his abdominal cavity and is implanted somewhere in there. Which, would basically mean in plain English, Paul is indeed pregnant.”

“WHAT?!?”

“Yes, yes, I know that it’s hard to believe. I mean, I’ve never even heard of this happening before!”

Paul broke down and started crying. I held him close to me in my arms in an attempt to calm and comfort him. It didn’t seem to help him much though.

“Now, Paul will need to be EXTREMELY careful or the baby could crush his internal organs. He doesn’t have a uterus like a woman, so the baby is pretty much just in there, except it has implanted itself against the side of one of his organs…it’s too small to see now, but when it’s big enough to see in an ultra-sound, I will check to see if it is a danger to his health. If it is, then we will have to remove it surgically.”

Paul shuddered at the sheer thought of needing surgery. “Um…how am I going to give birth? Push it out my dick?”

“No no no, it’s nothing like that. Since you don’t have the same parts as a woman, it wouldn’t exactly be a Cesarean section, but we’ll still have to cut through your abdominal wall, take the baby out, and repair any damage done. It would be a major surgery, yes, but whatever happens, it will have to be removed surgically.”

I swallowed hard, hoping that Paul would end up alright.

“There are many risks with your pregnancy, Mr. McCartney. Are you sure that you want to carry it to term?

“Doctor, I’m already pregnant, I want this baby now! You’re not going to take it away from me! This baby is a person too, just like you and me, except smaller. It deserves to live! To get a chance at life! I’ve always wanted to be a daddy; this is my chance. I’m not going to kill my own child!”

I could not believe that Paul didn’t want to just take that easy way out of this. If I were in his position, I know that I would!

When we got home, all Paul wanted to do was go to bed. I felt bad that he had to go through this. It was probably all my fault. I should have known something was wrong. Why did I HAVE to have shagged Paul THAT night??? I really wanted him to get an abortion. I didn’t want to risk losing him. But it was his body and his decision, and I just couldn’t change that.

A few weeks later…

“Oww, my stomach hurts,” I heard from the bedroom. Poor Paulie…poor, poor Paulie! I went in to see him.

I laid down next to him on the bed and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his bare chest and stomach. I rested my hand on his stomach and I felt a small lump. It seemed a little high up to be the baby, but I called the doctor anyway, to put my mind at ease. He said that he could see Paul in a few hours, and he told me some things that I could do in the meantime to help ease the pain.

I went back to Paul, who was now doubled over in pain on the floor. He was screaming; ACTUALLY SCREAMING; because it hurt so badly.

“Paul, you might want to kill me for this, but get on the bed.”

“I CAN’T!!!” I sat on the edge of the bed, spread my legs so that one was on each side of him, put my hands underneath his armpits and pulled him up onto the bed (which was VERY difficult not only because of his weight, but also because of all the kicking and squirming he did). When I got him onto the bed, I looked at his face…he was in tears. I got a few pillows and put them under his bum so his pelvis would be elevated above the rest of his body. It didn’t help MUCH, but it got his screaming to dull down to a low whimper. I delicately caressed my fingertips over his bare chest, and I noticed an increasingly large bulge in his pants. My fingers traveled from his chest, over his stomach, and then to the zipper on his pants. I unzipped his fly and slid down his pants to around his ankles. I felt him through his boxers, and as I did so he reached up and pulled off my blouse. I carefully slid off his boxers as he unlatched my bra. I took both of my hands and slowly ran them up and down his penis. He was getting hard, so hard. As I was doing this, Paul was licking my breasts. I felt my skirt go now, and then my panties. Right before Paul was going to come, I took him in my mouth at the last second. His whole body tensed up, and I could feel that as he shot into my mouth, which I hungrily swallowed. In the midst of all this, the doorbell was ringing. Naturally, of all times, it had to be now. I got him out of my mouth and threw a blanket over him, then I quickly put on a satin robe and headed for the door. When I opened it, I stood face to face with Ringo.

“Rich, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to know why Paul hasn’t been to work in weeks!”

“Um, well, erm, uh, well, he’s uhh…sick. Yeah! He’s very very sick.”

“Oh, what does he have?”

“Um, uhh…it’s a VERY rare disease…you’ve probably never heard of it.”

“Oh come now, what’s it called?”

“Uhh…maccafetalitis…” I came up with.

“Hmm…must be rare; I’ve never heard of it…is it contagious?”

“No no no, it’s not contagious.”

“Can I see him then?”

“Uhh…you come sit in the living room and I’ll go ask him.” I led him inside to a chair and raced towards the bedroom, where Paul lay on the bed moaning.

“Paul, I’m gonna have to take you off the pillow, so you’re gonna be in pain for a little bit. Ringo’s coming in, so try not to scream, ok?” I took the pillow from underneath his bum, and he made a sound very similar to a dog. Since his shirt was just unbuttoned, not off, and he had no other clothes no, so I just put him under the covers of the bed up to his mid- chest.

“Now stay here, and DO NOT SCREAM!” I went after Ringo.

“Ok, come on in. This way…” I said as I led his to the bedroom.

“Paul, you don’t look well at all,’ Ringo commented.

“I’m not well,” Paul managed to squeak out.

“Excuse me for asking, but what does maccafetalitis affect?”

“Um…” I exchanged a nervous glance with Paul. “It affects…the digestive track. Yeah.”

“Mmm-hmm…well then Paulie, how do you feel?”

“Uncomfortable,” he got out.

“Rich, let’s get you on your way, shall we? He’s going to the doctor’s in a little bit and he needs to get ready.”

“When will he be able to able to come back to work?”

“I….I really don’t know.”

“He’s going to drive in his condition?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?”

“No, I’m driving him.”

“But you don’t have a license!” He had a point there.

“Then what do you suggest I do?”

“I could drive,” he offered.

“I need to be with him.”

“I’ll bring you too then!”

“(sigh) Fine. Come back into the house.”

I led him to the kitchen and started a pot of tea. Once it was on the stove, I went back to Paul.

“Ok, honey, sweetie, Ringo’s going to drive you to the doctor’s instead of me, but I’m still going to go with you. Now, there’s only about 45 minutes until your appointment, so if you’d PLEASE put some clothes on, it would be helping me out a LOT.

“Ok…” he groaned as he difficultly stumbled to the closet. I walked back out to Ringo, who was serving himself some of the tea.

“Paul is going out be out here shortly; he needs to get dressed.”

Around 20 minutes later…

“JEN!!!” I heard Paul scream from the other room. I ran as fast as I could (not even noticing that Ringo was following) to find poor Paulie laying on the floor with his pants halfway up and his jacket undone. Paul was now unconscious.

“PAUL?” Ringo tried to get Paul up. “Well let’s get him decent before we do anything else.” I got Paul’s pants while Ringo fixed up Paul’s coat.

“Rich, please be REALLY careful with him!” I said as we carried him out to the car. Ringo just thumped him down in the backseat of the car. Because of it, Paul hit his head on the door.

“OW!” Paul yelped, dumbfounded. “What the bloody hell was that for?!?” I figured out a way to strap Paul into the backseat of the car so that he could keep laying down, and then off we went.

At the doctor’s…

Rich and I stayed in the waiting room while Paul went in.

Half an hour passes…

A nurse came to me.

“Mrs. McCartney--”

“We’re not married” I sighed.

“Ok, fine, well Paul is going to have an ultrasound, and he said that he doesn’t want to have us anywhere near him unless you’re there. So could you please some in?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

“Um…I thought that ultrasounds were only done on pregnant women to see the baby…” Ringo commented.

“Oh, um…Paul’s condition is rare and he needs it done to see something in there…” I quickly shot back.

“Whatever the bloody hell Paul has is just plain weird,” he said flatly.

So off I went into the exam room.

Once inside, I saw Paul laying on the exam table with no shirt on, but a multitude of wires and monitors hooked up to his chest. Paul smiled weakly at me.

“Alright, now Mr. McCartney, can we now proceed with the procedure?” asked the doctor.

“Fine,” is all that Paul said.

I walked over to Paul and gently held his hand.

The nurse brought over a small bottle containing some lightly colored fluid in it. She popped open the cap on it and rubbed a little on his stomach with a cotton ball. The doctor took a small instrument and slid it around on various spots on Paul’s belly, watching a small screen next to the exam table. He kept making these small ‘hmm’ing noises. I watched the screen, trying to see any sign of movement.

“There’s his liver…there’s his large intestine…what’s this?” He paused for a moment as he stared at the screen. “Nurse, magnify this for me.”

“What? What is it?” I asked nervously.

“Well, do you see that on the side of his stomach?” I nodded. “Well, now that it’s magnified, I can see that is the baby. Paul’s condition is progressing very rapidly; he’s only a few weeks pregnant, I know, but his pregnancy is at the equivalent of a woman who is 3 months pregnant!” I didn’t know what to think of this, much less what to say! I saw the baby on the screen alright, and I also saw the look of discomfort on Paul’s face. “The baby has attached itself to the side of Paul’s stomach. When the baby starts to kick, if it’s facing the wrong way, it could very easily put a hole right through his stomach which, if left untreated, will kill him.” I gulped hard.

“Is that what the lump on Paul’s belly is?” I asked curiously.

“Yes, that’s what it is. And if he keeps progressing at this rate, he’ll have the baby in a matter of weeks!”

“How can I help reduce his pain until then?”

“I have some papers written up for you on that. Here they are,” he said as he handed me the short stack of papers. “He shouldn’t go back to work until the pregnancy is over, and even then, he’ll need to stay in be d for a few weeks; because of the surgery and he’ll need time to heal. Therefore, I am ordering Paul to be on bed-rest until he goes into labor.”

“Um, excuse me for interrupting, but how will I know that I’ve gone into labor? What is it going to feel like?” Paul asked shyly.

“Well, if you can imagine it, the pain will be unbearable, and it will come and go at first. It should feel like a hard punch in the stomach, and each one will come closer to when the last one was. I don’t know how and if your water will break because I cannot tell if there is any amniotic fluid in there or not. If there is, and it breaks, I doubt you’d know. But when it gets like that, you should be rushed to the emergency room immediately and have somebody phone me. I will be one of the doctors that will be helping to deliver the baby.”

“Please, whatever you do, do NOT let ANYBODY know what’s going on that could possibly tell anyone that isn’t a doctor that will be working on him,” I pleaded.

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“When can we go home?” Paul asked wearily.

“Just as soon as we get you unhooked from all this stuff. You’ll need to check in here frequently, to make sure that everything is okay…” The doctor promptly removed him from the machines, and I buttoned up Paul’s shirt for him. I put my arm around Paul’s waist and helped him outside. Ringo helped me bring Paul back into the car and drove us home.

“So, why’d he need the ultrasound?”

“Oh, um, his condition is worsening and they needed to see inside of him without having to cut him open…”

A tiny mumble came from the backseat.

“What’s that you say Paul?” Ringo asked.

“I’m pregnant,” Paul said in a tiny voice. Ringo screeched the car to a halt.

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?!?”

“He said he’s pregnant…” I said calmly.

“Oh no you don’t! This is NOT happening! It can’t be! I must be having a bad dream, or something!!” he said as he started to cry.

“Oh…Richie…everything’s gonna be okay…I’ll explain more once we get back to the house.”

So we drove back home in silence. An eerie silence. One that was hard for me to stand. When we got there, Ringo seemed a bit afraid to touch Paul. So I struggled to support all of Paul’s body weight with my back, but I managed to get him into the house and onto the couch by myself.

“Alright, Ringo, see I’m unbuttoning his shirt…see that big lump right there? That’s the baby.”

“How the fuck did that happen?!?”

“Well, do you want me to use the proper words, or slang?”

“The proper words will be just fine…” he said coldly.

“Alright, well, it’s all very complicated, but you see instead of his sperm going inside of me, my egg went into his body, and it mixed with his semen and got up to his stomach somehow and implanted itself on the side of it. One wrong move and Paul could die. He’ll need surgery to get it out. After the surgery, Paul will need a few more weeks bed-rest, but then he can work with you guys again all that he wants.” Ringo had this weird look on his face, in between shock, fright, and disgust.

“So whose fault is it?”

“Excuse me? What did you just say?”

“Whose fault is it? Which one of you is fucked up and made this happen?”

“I don’t know…I could do you and if you get pregnant we’ll know it’s my fault.”

“NO! NO WAY!”

“I am hurt…you always used to want me…(sigh)”

“Is Paul going to…grow breasts?”

“How should I know?!?”

“Um…maybe I should leave…” Ringo said uneasily.

“You don’t have to go!” I said in protest.

“No, that’s alright, I think I need to go!” he said right before he ran out the front door.

“(sigh) I’ve just lost one of my best friends over this whole thing. I don’t even want to know what the other two are going to think!”

“And what about the fans? What will they think?”

“I don’t even want to think about it! I want to die!!!” Paul said, crying into my shoulder.

“Oh baby…you know that you don’t really want to die…”

“YES I DO!!!”

“I WON’T LET YOU!!!”

“Get out of my bloody fuckin’ way Jen!”

“NO!!!” I grabbed his arm hard, but he pulled away and headed towards the bathroom. I ran in front of him and blocked the doorway with my body. He shoved me out of his way and reached for the bottle of sleeping pills in the cabinet, but I pulled him out of the bathroom with all my strength, or at least right outside the doorway of it. He tried to push me out of the way again, but I brought my knee up hard into his –

“AAAHHH!!!” he screamed as he fell to the floor, holding his crotch. “What the bloody hell was that for?!?”

“Trying to knock some sense into you!! I did it for your own good!” Then he yelled some unmentionable obscenities at me in his Scouse accent so thick, you could barely make out what he was saying. I locked the bathroom door, took the key, and left him there on the floor in agony. Just then, a knock came on the door.

“Oh holy fuck,” I said under my breath. Whoever it was was going to see Paul on the floor and what I’d done to him.

“Paul, shut the bloody hell up! Somebody’s at the door!” I went to answer it, and it was a very nervous looking John.

“Umm…what was all that? I came and saw Ringo run screaming and he left so fast that he got himself into a car accident.”

“Paul was trying to commit suicide, so I had to use force to stop him.”

“What did you do to him???” he said as he rushed to Paul’s side.

“I kicked him in the pills.”

“How could you??”

“He’d be dead now if I hadn’t!!”

“Well get him some ice for it at least!”

“NO! He has to learn the hard way!” John tried to help sit him up, but he accidentally touched Paul’s stomach trying.

“What the hell--” he said. “Hey Paul, do you have a tumor or something in your stomach?”

“No.”

“Then what’s that lump on your stomach?”

“John, he’s pregnant.”

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That is THE stupidest thing I’ve ever heard! Guys don’t have babies! Didn’t your parents ever have this talk with you Jen?”

“Fine, don’t believe me. But if he’s not really pregnant, then what are all these??” I shoved the notes the doctor had written down for me at him. John’s face went pale, and he fainted. Paul was getting himself up off the floor with much difficulty. He stumbled into the kitchen, but came out just fine with a glass of ice water. He walked over to John, stopped, and dumped the water on John’s head.

“GAH!!” John yelped in shock. Paul started giggling. Then he dropped the glass on his head too. “OW! I’m up mate, I’m up!” I couldn’t help but stifle a giggle myself.

“So, um, Paul, what’s it like…being pregnant and all?”

“To put it in it’s simplest possible terms, it’s a drag. The biggest drag of my life.”

“Oh Paulie, you’re gonna be a mama!” John said in an exaggeratedly high pitched voice. I slapped him across the face.

“OW!! I was just telling it like it is!” I glared at him with a look that could kill.

“Get out,” I growled at him.

“No, don’t make him go!” Paul stopped John from leaving. “John?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I still in the band?”

“Of course you are mate! We haven’t been able to do much of anything without you there. And personally,” John lowered his voice, “I support you all the was on this whole thing, even though it is pretty weird… Whatever ends up happening, I’ll stay there with ya the whole time.” Paul started crying again, and John held him in his arms. “ There there, it’ll be alright…”

“I want me mum,” Paul cried.

“I know you do…I do too…but they’re both long gone, and we both know that…” John began to look a little misty-eyed himself. “How are you gonna get it out?”

“I’ll need an operation,” Paul said shakily.

“Well, I’m with ya all the way.” John patted Paul on the back and got up off the floor. “Should I tell George?”

“If no one else will hear, then okay. If the media finds out………well, that just wouldn’t be good.”

“Well, I’d better be going. It’s getting late, and Cyn is probably wondering where I am. I just wanted to see to it that Paulie was okay. And Paul, if you need anything, I want you to let me know.”

“Well, I thought that was what Jen was here for, but alright.”

“Okay. G’night all!” he said, and then left out of the front door.

“Well that was nice of John to come over here like that,” I commented. I could tell that Paul was starting to be in pain again, so I took a look at the papers the doctor had given me. “Paul, get down on the floor like a dog.”

“Jen, I did you earlier, I’m not up to anything kinky right now.”

“No no no! It’s not for THAT!!! Just do it, okay?” So he got down on the floor like a dog. I looked at the paper again. I put one hand and his mid- back and pressed down on it, and put my other hand over the baby and pressed up. He groaned quietly as I did this to him. I very gently pushed him up into a sitting position like this, then let go of him. “Paul? Did it help?”

“Hey, yeah, it did!”

“Good! Think you can make it to bed?”

“I think so.”

“Ok. You get in bed and I’ll make you dinner.” So Paul went to bed, and I made him something to eat. I brought the food to him on a little tray so he could eat in bed.

I waited on him hand and foot for days, trying to keep him in bed and as comfortable as possible.

One month later…

Paul now looked like he had a basketball underneath his shirt…except it wasn’t a basketball, it was his stomach! He had been to the doctor’s several times now, and he was now equivalent to that of a woman at 6 months.

“Oh God, I look so terrible, I’m all fat and ugly…”

“No you’re not! I mean, you’ve got a kid in there, and you’ll NEVER be ugly, never!” Then a knock came on door. Standing there were John, Cynthia, and baby Julian.

“Oh hi! What a nice surprise!”

“I had John bring us over as soon as I’d heard what had happened. Jennifer, how on earth are you able to take care of him so well while he’s like this? John tried to for me, but gave up when I was only about 7 weeks! And how far along is Paul now?” Cynthia was always one to have an inquisitive side.

“Well, in reality, he’s only about a month and a half pregnant. But the doctor said that he’s the same as a woman if she were 6 months pregnant! That would be why his belly is so big…and he’s still gonna get even bigger!”

“Can we come in?”

“Sure! Sorry to have kept you out there so long, I got a little carried away. But make yourselves right at home!” I brought them into the living room, as I do all my guests.

“Can I let Julian down to crawl around?”

“I guess so, I don’t see why not.” Cyn set Julian down on the floor and he curled up with his blanket.

“Jennifer, where’s Paul?”

“Oh, he’s in the bedroom. He’s been confined to bed-rest by the doctor. I doubt he’s asleep though.”

“Can he come out here?”

“Um, I guess so, he doesn’t get up very much, and I don’t think that if he stayed on the couch that it would hurt him too much. So if you’ll just excuse me a moment, I’ll go get him.” So I headed toward the bedroom where Paul was laying down on the bed, reading a book.

“Paul? John, Cyn & Jules are out in the other room. They came to see you. You wanna go out there, or do you wanna have me bring them in here?”

“I’ll go out there; I’m so bloody sick of this room! I don’t know how much more of this that I can take!!!”

“Paul, remember that it’s only gonna be a few more weeks and then you’ll have this baby out of you. You can last a couple more weeks! I know you can!” I took him by the hand and tried to help him up, but his other hand flew to his stomach and he fell to the floor.

“PAUL??? WHAT HAPPENED??? PAUL? PAUL?!?” He wouldn’t respond to me. Oh fuck, I thought.

“Jennifer? What’s going on in there?” I heard from the other room.

“Nothing! Nothing at all!”

“Are you sure that you don’t need any help?”

“I’m sure!” I helped pick Paul up off the floor. “Paul, what’s wrong?”

“(groan) It’s me goddamn stomach again. I’m fuckin’ cursed!”

“Paul, they’re wondering what we’re doing in here. Now come on.” I gently took his arm and pulled him toward the door.

When we got out there, John’s eyes bugged out of his head.

“PAUL!!!” he cried as he ran over to him.

“Paul, sit down dear, You shouldn’t be up on your feet much while you’re like this,” Cyn said as John helped Paul onto the couch. Julian climbed up into Cyn’s lap and fell asleep.

“Paul, are you gonna be alright?” John asked.

“Of course I will! Wait a sec…” He took John’s hands and placed them on his stomach. “Can you feel that?”

“Yeah…you’re really not joking about this whole pregnancy thing, are you?”

“I REALLY wish that I was,” Paul said, looking up at John with big sad eyes.

“Paul, try not to cry, okay?” I said to him from across the room. I’d seen WAY too much of him crying in the past few weeks, and it was very depressing. I didn’t know how much more of this I could take!!! My dear, sweet Paul was in pain, and it was VERY hard for me to watch. I was the one that was supposed to be going through this, not him. I didn’t know how I’d EVER make it up to him for this. He’d probably want to leave me after he was done recovering. And could I really blame him for it? Hell no!

“Jen, are you okay? You’re getting really pale--”

“I’m fine!” I blurted out quickly. “I…uh…just need a little fresh air. Excuse me, I’m just going to step outside for a moment.” I bolted out the front door and collapsed in tears on the ground as soon as I got the door shut. I cried so hard that I couldn’t see, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. I didn’t notice that the door had creaked open. I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and warm breath on the back of my neck.

“Jen, what’s wrong?” Paul asked in his calm, soothing voice, very concerned.

“It’s all my fault!” I sobbed. “It’s all my fault that you got pregnant! You aren’t supposed to go through this; I am! I’m sooo sorry!! I know that you can never forgive me for this, and I don’t blame you for wanting to leave me. I’m just fucked up…”

“Sweetheart, that isn’t true. Sure, traditionally the girl has the babies, but we’re doing something new. Maybe even starting a trend! And I wasn’t upset with you to begin with. If I was, I would have had the abortion. But I’m happy about getting to have a baby. This could be a once in a lifetime chance, why not at least try to enjoy it? I’m not going to leave you; I don’t WANT to leave you! I love you! And you’re not at all fucked up…..you’re the most that I could have ever asked for…and you are mine.” He smiled at me. “It’s not your fault, or anybody’s. It was meant to be. Everything happens for a purpose.” He leaned over and gave me a good long kiss.

“You’re so sweet. You’re the most I could ever have asked for too.” I looked up into his eyes and smiled weakly at him.

“Shall we go back in then? There’s a bit of a chill out here.” Paul helped me to my feet and put his arm around my shoulders.

“Wait, not yet…” I put my hands on his stomach, and I could feel the baby kicking. I smiled at him. “Ok. NOW we can go.” He led me inside to where John, Cyn & Jules still were.

“What just happened?” John asked as soon as he saw my face.

“Nothing, nothing…nothing important.”

“AAHH!” Paul yelled out as he clutched his stomach.

“Paul, other room, now.”

“Ok.” I tried to support his weight with my body, but he had become so heavy that he knocked me to the floor. John came over and helped get him off of me.

“I can’t carry him anymore. He’s just too heavy for me!” I exclaimed as John helped him up. John picked Paul up in his arms.

“Where do you want him?”

“Um, the bed in the bedroom would be fine.” John brought Paul into the bedroom and carefully lowered him onto the bed.

“Ok John, close the door on your way out, ok?” I heard the door creak close but not click. Oh well.

“Paul, lay down on your back.” Well, he was already on his back, so I don’t know why I just said that. “Now spread your legs apart.” He did, and I put two or three pillows between them. “Now, press your legs together as tightly as you can, and keep them that way.” He did, and I rolled him onto his left side. “Just stay relaxed…that’s what’s important.”

“I feel so stupid doing this!”

“Just bear with me here, okay? You want to feel better, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well there you go!” I laid down next to him and kissed him passionately. I started at his sweet lips, down his neck, and down to his vast chest. While I started doing this, I slyly kicked the pillows away. I quickly tore away his shirt when I reached his collarbone. I kept going down, around his belly, and finally undid his pants. He was reaching around and stripping me at the same time. I got up and pushed him onto his back gently and started straddling his chest while reclining back against his stomach. Pretty comfy for my actually. He stuck his tongue deeply inside of me, and licked and licked and licked. I reached back behind me and started to stroke him, gently, just barely touching him, but I could feel that he was getting excited. I rolled over onto my stomach while still on top of him, spread his knees apart, then leaned down forward and started to massage his balls.

“Ooooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhh………….” Paul moaned. Just then, I heard a giggle coming from the doorway. The door was opened just a crack, but through it I could see John crouched down on the floor, watching us and he had his hand over his mouth, trying to hold back his laughter. I picked up a blanket and wrapped it around my body and walked over to the door and slammed it shut. Then I walked over to Paul, who had obviously noticed John there, and his face was a deep shade of maroon.

“Now, where were we?” I asked in my sexy voice.

“Oh, I’m not in the mood anymore…I’m sorry…”

“(sigh) It’s not your fault…get dressed…(sigh)” I threw my clothes back on quickly, as did he, and we went back out into the other room, feeling rather awkward. I gave John an evil glare as I passed by him.

“Well I suppose that we should get going,” Cyn said. “It’s starting to get late.”

“Oh alright. Well, it was nice of you to come over and visit!”

“No trouble, no trouble at all. And if you need anything, ANYTHING, just give us a ring.”

“Ok, we will.” And then they left.

About a week later, Paul’s belly had grown even more, and we had another visitor.

Ding dong, the doorbell chimed. I went to answer the door while Paul laid on the couch in discomfort. I opened it, and Ringo was there.

“I…I just wanted to apologize for how I acted that one day…you know…when you told me about Paul…”

“Oh, it’s alright! We forgive you! Paul does especially, don’t you Paul?” I said over my shoulder.

“I do what?” Paul asked.

“You forgive Ringo for how he was that one day, right?”

“Of course I do!”

“Can I…um…”

“Come in?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure!” I led him inside, and when he saw Paul his eyes bugged a little, but I could tell he was trying to be polite by trying to hide it.

“How’ve you been, ol’ buddy?” he asked uncomfortably, putting an arm around Paul’s shoulders.

“Uncomfortable, ugly, in pain, but other than that just lovely.”

“Oh you’re not ugly. You’re Paul McCartney for God’s sake, you’ll never be ugly! You’re the CUTE Beatle for a reason.” Paul smiled a little at that.

“You wanna be at the birth?”

“What?” Ringo asked, even though you could tell he’d understood what he’d just said, he’d wanted a confirmation though.

“When I have the baby, you know? You don’t have to, I’m not forcing you to either, but I thought I’d might ask…”

“Well…um…I don’t want to hurt your feelings by saying no, but wouldn’t it be kinda…gross? I mean to cut you open and everything…” Paul looked disappointed. “But I’ll do it anyway, for you, ‘cos you’re one of me best friends.” Paul’s face lit up.

“But you don’t have to if you don’t want to do it, I mean I can totally understand where you’re coming from here on this, not wanting to and all, since it probably will be pretty nasty, so if you don’t want to I’d understand. Now if it was you having the baby, and you asked me, I KNOW that I’d be like, ‘Ha! Screw you! I’m not watching THAT!’”

“Well, if you promise me you’re not hurt--”

“I’m not.”

“Well, I don’t really want to…I’m sorry…”

“And that’s ok! I don’t really care…Jen, could you call the other two and ask them?”

“(sigh) Fine.” So I went to go make the phone calls.

“Hello, is this John?”

“Yeah, whaddaya want?”

“Um…Paul just wanted to know if you wanted to be there when you had the baby…”

“Sure!”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear it.”

“Anything else luv?”

“Nope, that’ll be all. Bye!”

“Bye.”

“Hello, George?”

“This is George Harrison, speaking.”

“This is Jennifer, Paul’s girlfriend…”

The tone of George’s voice softened. “How is Paul? I heard about…about his…um…condition. Is he alright?”

“Yes, he’s fine. He wanted to know if you wanted to be there at the birth.”

“I guess this is a once-in-a-lifetime-chance, so alright!”

“Alright, John’ll be there too, thought I’d point that out.”

“What about Rings?”

“Nah, he doesn’t want to. He got a little squeamish when we asked him.”

“Oh. Is that all?”

“Yep.”

“Ok.”

“Bye.”

So I went into the other room, where Paul and Ringo still were.

“Paulie, John and George both said they’ll be there.”

“That’s great!” Paul exclaimed happily. I could tell by looking at Ringo he felt a little guilty about not going.

“Can I change my mind and decide to go?”

“Of course.”

“So you’ll be there then?” Paul asked eagerly.

“Yeah, I think I will.”

“Yay!” Paulie yelled out. I smiled to finally see Paul happy about something again.

A few days later, in the middle of the night…

I woke up to find Paul on a chair, playing his guitar in the middle of the night, with a pained look on his face. It looked strange, and then all of a sudden, he just collapsed into a little ball on the floor with his guitar. I got the guitar out from under him since that HAD to be uncomfortable. I sat him up against the bed and called the doctor. He said to get him into the emergency room IMMEDIATELY and that he’d meet me there. I made a few quick phone calls to the other three, and as I was Paul came to. Now he was in more pain than ever, and he kept yelling out inaudible phrases. I did my best to drag him out to the car, but I couldn’t do it, so I called an ambulance (the doctor had apparently already expected this) and we drove off in it.

About ten minutes later…

Paul got put into a wheelchair as soon as we arrived at the hospital and the other 3 were there already. I had to put on one of those weird surgeon outfits so I could go in, as did the others. Paul got brought into the operating room quickly. They took off all his clothes, and then they took this blanket that had a hole in the center of it cut out and put it over him. The hole was where his stomach went. One doctor took a needle and put it into Paul’s back, I guess to numb him. I assume that it was the epidural. Another doctor rubbed this red stuff onto Paul’s stomach, and I know for a fact it was some type of antiseptic. Then after a few minutes, the main doctor pressed on various points on Paul’s stomach asking if Paul could feel it, and Paul kept saying no, and then they were done with that. Me and the 3 boys had chairs to sit on since it would be a long operation and we didn’t have to stand up to watch it. I held Paul’s hand as they put the oxygen mask on him. The main doctor took the scalpel and made the initial cut, rather high up on Paul’s stomach if you ask me. There were all kinds of tools holding Paul open, and it looked like it had to hurt. They kept cutting, deeper, one layer at a time, and by the time they had reached where the baby was at, George had had to excuse himself because he was feeling ill. They removed the baby, and there was obviously SOME damage done to him, you could see it. He would die for sure if they left him the way he was.

“Paul, you just delivered a perfectly healthy baby girl.” the doctor said as he held her into Paul’s view.

“She’s so sweet…” Paul said, incredibly weakly. A nurse took her and brought her into the nursery to be cleaned up and run some tests on her. Then the doctor added a few more tools to hold him open even wider, and then he instructed me and the boys to step just outside the operating room door.

“There has been quite a bit of damage done to Paul’s body…he has a ruptured spleen, lacerations to the liver and large intestine, a puncture hole in his stomach, and some broken ribs. Paul may very well die from this. I thought that I should tell you this now. Now, you can stay for the rest of the surgery, or you can leave, since it’s going to be VERY long until it’s done. If you want to stay, great, and if you want to leave, go ahead, we can use the extra room. So who’s staying and who’s going?” We all looked at each other, and Ringo and George decided that they wanted to leave. So it would only be me and John that stayed with Paul. We were quickly ushered back into the operating room.

“Paul, would you like to stay awake during the rest of the operation, or be put out?”

“I want to stay awake; I don’t believe in those anesthetic things.” So for hours, we sat there with Paul, hoping and praying for the best while the doctors worked on him. I glanced at my watch…they had spent the past 7 hours on him so far just to repair his liver! How long was he going to be in there???

He ended being in surgery for about 72 hours, or more easily known as 3 days. He got put on IV’s and heart and breathing monitors and all kinds of other nasty stuff. I didn’t leave his side though except for when the doctors took short breaks. And even then, I didn’t leave. I only left about maybe four to use the restroom the whole time, and I had food brought to me since I was so committed to staying at Paul’s side the whole time. When they FINALLY finished the surgery (several epidurals later too, might I add), he still had to have a cast put on, for the broken ribs, which took quite a while more.

Once finished, it was nighttime, and Paul was brought into his room (and I followed him).

“Oh, Paulie baby, how do you feel??” I asked him with much concern.

“(sigh) God I’m tired. It hurts too…”

“Well I figured that. I’m tired too, but it’s worth it; you’re here, I’m here with you, so it’s very much worth it to me.”

Just then, a nurse came in with our daughter.

“Here’s your lovely baby girl, Mr. McCartney.” The nurse handed the baby over to Paul, who cradled her very sweetly in his arms.

“Oh, she’s the most beautiful baby I’ve ever seen…” he said.

“Have you two decided on a name for her yet?” the nurse asked.

“Jen?” Paul asked.

“Yes?”

“Any suggestions?”

“Well being you’re the one that carried her to term and everything, you think up a name that you think is perfect, and you let me know.”

“Ok….um…well, I’ve always envisioned having a daughter named Linda, I don’t know why…but I can’t think of a middle name for her though.”

“Does Linda Louise sound good to you?”

“Yeah! It does! Put Linda Louise onto the birth certificate.” And that is what she did.

4 weeks later…

“Mr. McCartney, you’ll still need to rest, and no strenuous activity, but you can go home. Wait about 2 more weeks, then if you’re up to going back to work, go for it!” the doctor said. And so, the three of us went home, with many reporters surrounding us on the way out, but their stories for the news were all wrong. They’d thought that I’d had the baby! Little did they know what would come next for them in the news, when we clarified the REAL story!

When we got home…

“It feels great to be back!” Paul exclaimed as we reached the front door. I opened the door, and…

The whole living room was decorated in pastel decorations and balloons, and all our family and friends were there, waiting to welcome us and the baby home. The nursery was all set up and decorated too (something that we had never gotten around to doing). Then I noticed 2 extremely special guests…my mother and father! They had flown all the way from California over to England just to see us!

“Oh, Jennifer! It’s so good to finally see you again!” my mother said as she and I hugged. “Where’s the sweet little baby?”

“She must be in the nursery with Paul already.”

“I assume the baby is being bottle-fed…”

“Actually, no she’s not! I’m on hormone therapy now so I can produce milk, and if Paul wants to feed her, then I use the breast pump and she’ll get bottle-fed by him, but if he doesn’t want to, then I feed her.”

“Oh…” my mom said, sounding slightly confused. “So when did you get married?” All that ran through my mind at that moment was Oh shit! I didn’t even realize that with being so busy keeping Paul comfortable that I forgot all about getting married!

“Well…um…we’re not exactly married yet, but as soon as Paul recovers we will be.” I walked quickly away from Mom and into the nursery, where sure enough I found Paul, cuddling our little Linda while sitting in the rocking chair near the window, the sun gently shining it’s rays down upon them.

“Shh…” he said as I entered the room.

“Oh, is she asleep?” I whispered. He nodded yes. He gently placed her down into her bassinet, but as he did, she woke up and started crying. He just looked over at me with a look that said it all. ‘WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?’

“Have you tried singing to her?”

“I haven’t sung for ages.”

“Well try it then!” He got up and got his guitar from the other room, and he came in, and he strummed what sounded like a rough sketch of a song.

“La la la la la la la la lovely Linda…………with the lovely flowers in her hair…….” He kept sing those lines over and over again. She wouldn’t stop crying.

“(sigh) This isn’t working Jen…” he said sadly.

“Um…try another song?” I suggested.

“My baby, she comes out at night, taking me by surprise, yeah she’s my baby…” he started to sing. Then he hummed a verse with the same tune, then went to a new part of the song. “She’s a baby in the morning time when the sleep is in her eyes…” And he just kept writing a song, and she fell asleep.

“Wow, that worked fairly well!” I said quietly.

"Now that our baby's asleep, I'm wondering how quiet you can do it…"

"Do what?" I asked bewildered…

It sunk in what he meant when he got that mischievous dirty look on his face and started to quietly but quickly tiptoe towards me. Then whispered in my ear so sexily it made my spine nearly give in with the shiver; "I've missed having you for so long baby, I've not been able to touch you like you want me to, for nearly 6 months! Now that I'm healthy again, I intend to give you the ride of your life girl." He sighed heavily as he started stroking his hand on my thigh, and then running his index finger up the side of my body going over all my curves, up to my neck. I giggled with the cheek of Paul, and how he was making me feel.

Then I suddenly remembered the baby.

"And what about Linda?" I asked.

"I don't think she'd mind a bigger family if anything happened again," he said matter-of-factly.

"No – I mean shagging in front of her, we don't want to wake her." I said looking into his eyes.

“Then you'll have to control your sex cries,” he grinned naughtily at me.

"Oh Paul…" I sighed, looking away in disgust. "I knew I was making these excuses up for other reasons. Can't we just talk? We need to think of the future. What people are going to say, the press, the fans, our friends and family?"

"We'll tell them the truth, it will be a national phenomenon. A pregnant man!"

"What about us?” I said sitting down in a huff…“Where's OUR phenomenon?” I said kind of depressed and annoyed that the thought of marriage and 'us' hadn't even crossed his mind.

I looked at him in the corner of my eye, I didn't want him to think I was looking at him, to see his reaction. I pretended I wasn't looking at all. Anyway if I went to look at his beautiful face I might have started crying. After all this with him having our baby, and me supporting him through every breath which could have been his last. I think all the emotion got to me right then.

But to my surprise he was smiling a sweet, knowing kind of smile.

"I'm sorry, I should have done this sooner. It just never seemed the right time..."

He was already on one knee, he held his hand in mine, and rubbed his thumb gently on it, looking at the floor, with a bit of what seemed like embarrassment, then coughed a little like he was about to prepare a speech. And looked up at me with tears in his eyes, as he said, "Jen, I love you, you know I love you, I need you…Will you marry me?"

I sat mesmerized at him for a moment, like time had stopped. He started to sweat a little, get shifty eyed, looked very worried, like he'd just made a horrible mistake, when he saw me not moving an inch. I was in shock.

Then he did what sounded like such a desperate little thing, like he had no idea what to do next. He said in a squeaky little pathetic begging way…"Please??????" His glorious hazel eyes soulfully looking into mine, turning his head a little like a puppy asking for scraps.

That was it, I lost it, I was laughing my head off!!

"Please!!!" I imitated. “Awwwww… god Paul you’re adorable you know that! No wonder they call you the Cute one!! Of COURSE I'll marry you sweetie, I LOVE you!!”

He let out a huge sigh of relief, like he hadn't breathed for 3 minutes, then we were in each others arms hugging each other for all, with delight.

“Of course, you do realize you'll be the husband technically, don't you?” I looked up from having my head snuggled in his big strong chest.

“What?” I said completely confused.

“I'm the mother, I gave birth. So from now on you'll be Mr McCartney. OK?” He looked at me with a totally calm and plain face, like I was just supposed to accept this.

"But, eh, Paul…I'm not sure…"

"Hehehehehe" He giggled swirling me round the room with his arms – "Got you there love! You actually believed me? Hahaha!"

"Oh Paul!" I smiled.

Before long we were rolling our tongues around in each other's mouths, long slow kissing, only stopping to take gasps of passionate breaths. Every now and again bursts of "Ohhh's!!" when our hands; which were all over each other, would reach pinnacle areas.

He suddenly slowed down and stopped.

"Oh Paul" I gasped as I shifted my body up close to him; chest to chest. His arms were around me, he let out a deep, low "Mmmmmm" rolled his eyes looking to the ceiling with over-wrought feelings of pleasure. Then he grinned, looked down at me.

He started panting like a dog with his tongue out, while lifting me up taking me to the bed, and giggling as he lay me down underneath his glaring wanting eyes.

I looked over to Linda's bassinet a bit worried we might wake her…

"She'll be OK love, If she wakes we'll explain we're trying for her sister or brother." He smiled playfully.

"Paul…" I giggled, as he began unbuttoning my shirt buttons.

He had just begun stroking his hands slowly down and around my breasts, moving his head down to kiss them, when I heard the door click. I looked up suddenly to see Ringo standing in the doorway looking very red and embarrassed.

"I, eh…Just came to see where you had gotten to…Sorry…" he muttered, looking at his feet.

“Rich, it’s alright…you had no idea…just leave and shut the door quietly behind you…” I said, then quickly looking back down at Paul. “Shall we continue where we were at?”

“Why of course luv!” he exclaimed as he rolled me over onto the bed…and we had the greatest night of our lives…



THE END

PROLOUGE

Jennifer and Paul were married on March 12 of that year. When Linda turned 10, they told her the story of how she was born. The reason of how or why that it happened the way it did though, will forever remain a mystery…
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Chris91
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PostSubject: Re: Close Enough (SFW)   Thu Oct 17, 2013 12:33 pm

In the immortal words of that great existentialst philosopher Bartholomew J. Simpson: "AYE CARAMBA!" Shocked 

This story makes the Maradonia books look like Pulitzer Prize contenders.
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Summercorn
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PostSubject: Re: Close Enough (SFW)   Mon Oct 21, 2013 8:45 pm

It is really bad, the whole Sir Paul McCartney thing is horrible, but printing this whole is just too long. This site is for snarking bad fanfic and there is no snark here. Why the whole, long, tedious fic?
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Cyberwulf
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PostSubject: Re: Close Enough (SFW)   Tue Oct 22, 2013 3:05 pm

because viewsonic is a lazy piece of shit, that's why
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Exodia's Right Leg
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PostSubject: Re: Close Enough (SFW)   Tue Nov 19, 2013 1:15 pm

You could have just given us a link instead of posting the entire story here you dumbass
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