Texting My Bhabhi To Sex 8211 Part II
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Texting SethChapter 9 free porn video
"Everything is in the car," Noah said. "Did you make your call yet?"
Rachel picked up the telephone handset, punched in a number and then hung it up again. "I'm too nervous. I'm a rotten liar, Noah."
"Do you want me to make the call?"
"Would you?" He picked up the handset. Rachel recited the number to him and he punched it in. "Ask for Suzanne -- she's my immediate supervisor."
He heard it ringing. Men's came an answer.
"Is Suzanne there?"
Just a moment...
Noah waited. He heard another voice. Hello.
"Is this Suzanne?"
Yes it is.
"I'm Noah Warren -- Rachel's boyfriend."
"Fiancé," Rachel hissed.
" ... her fiancé. Rachel's not coming in this morning."
It's Christmas Eve...
"I know and she knows and she feels terrible but she's been having what she thinks are contractions."
Oh, dear...
"We think it's prudent for her to get hold of her OB. You know how tough it can be to get hold of people on Christmas Eve."
I understand. That comes first. Tell her we all wish her the best of luck.
"I will."
And, tell her to keep us posted on her condition.
"I will. Thanks."
Thanks for calling.
Noah hung up the phone and gave Rachel a thumbs-up gesture. "You were too smooth," Rachel remarked.
"I think having it come from someone other than you added some credibility."
"No doubt."
"Grab your coat and let's get on the road."
Rachel sat in the passenger seat of Noah's Jaguar and he started the engine. "Look at the sky -- it's threatening to snow."
"I saw the weather last night. The forecast is for some snow this afternoon -- one to three inches here, which translates to five or six at the farm. That's one reason I wanted to get started -- to get there before the snow starts to accumulate. At least it'll be a white Christmas."
"At least."
The car's heater began to take the chill out of the passenger compartment. Rachel unbuttoned her coat and ran her hands along her abdomen. "I cannot believe how huge I am," she remarked. "I feel like a whale."
"Has he been busy?"
"Not so much this morning. Last night it felt like was moving around. He wasn't kicking -- he was moving."
"He must've got tired of sitting in one position."
"Must be."
"Wouldn't it be something to remember what you experienced inside your mother's womb?" Noah asked.
"Maybe not," she replied. Noah turned onto the interstate and headed north. "Tell me about the farm."
"My folks bought it when I was about ten. My dad thought it would be fun to be a hobbyist farmer. It was a horse farm, originally."
"Did you have horses?"
"We had a couple early on. Horses are expensive and an awful lot of work. Neither my brother nor I had much interest in the hard work part of farming. We did enjoy living out in the country. Marcus had a dirt bike he rode all over the property. I built model rockets and could shoot them off whenever I wanted and nobody bothered us. After a couple of years my dad had pretty much lost interest. We let another farmer plant some crops on some of the fields, but otherwise now it's just a residence with a really big lawn."
"That's too bad."
"Farming is something you have to be born to, I think. My family just wasn't cut out to be farmers. The place is pretty self-sufficient. There's a generator that kicks in when we lose power. It's a big, commercial quality unit -- it has enough capacity to run the whole farm when it's in full production mode. That's Marcus's baby -- he's always tinkering with it and making sure it's in good operating order."
"Did you use it a lot?" she asked.
"Enough. The power grid out there isn't what it is in the city. Mom plants a big vegetable garden -- I mean big enough so she needs to use the tractor to plow and cultivate it. In the fall she cans and freezes stuff. She keeps some chickens in the hen house so there's always a supply of fresh eggs. I know you like eggs, Rachel. You'll go nuts over eggs fresh from the hen. If one stops laying ... then it's chicken stew."
"Oh! How cruel."
"It's the reality of the farm," Noah replied. "It's starting to flurry. The roads up there aren't the best in the winter. That's why Mom has that big Suburban. It can go through a foot of snow without a problem."
Noah turned onto the ramp leading from the interstate and stopped at a gas station. He nudged Rachel. "Rachel?"
"Huh?" she said and rubbed her eyes.
"I'm stopping here for some gas. I though you might want to use the restroom or maybe pick up a snack."
"Maybe a snack. How much longer?"
"It's about another hour from here on the county trunks. The snow's coming down pretty heavy now, so I'm guessing it may be slower going."
"Maybe the restroom, too."
Noah slipped his credit card into the pump and began refilling his tank. The pump snapped off and he hung the nozzle back on its hook.
Rachel returned with a pack of Fig Newtons. She sat in the passenger seat and fastened her belt.
"Let's get this show on the road," Noah said. "It looks like four inches already."
"I haven't seen a plow."
"You won't. They won't plow until it stops snowing. That's why everyone out here drives the big four-wheel-drive trucks."
Noah switched on the wipers. "Noah," Rachel said, "I'm getting worried. Conditions are not improving."
"Only about another half-hour more."
She pulled her cell phone from her bag. "It says no service."
"Mom says there's talk of putting up some cell towers but I guess it hasn't happened yet. You might as well switch it off. Otherwise it'll run your battery down, roaming in vain."
Rachel powered off her cell and slipped it back into her bag. Noah piloted the Jaguar past familiar landmarks. He turned into a drive marked with a sign that read, Windacre Farms. "Here we are," he said.
"Windacre? What does that mean?"
"It's the name the farm had when we bought it."
"How long is this driveway?"
"About a half mile. Trudging out here to wait for the school bus on a winter morning was no joke, I assure you."
They drove past meadows with white, wooden fences, some needing repair. They reached the house and parked beside a large, gray barn.
Noah escorted Rachel inside. "Hi, Mom," Noah said as they stepped into the house.
"Rachel!" she exclaimed and embraced her.
"Nice to see you, too," Noah remarked.
"Rachel," Meredith said, "how are you feeling?"
"Fine. No problems."
"It's getting close, isn't it?"
"Yes it is."
Meredith bit her lip and her eyes glistened. "I suppose you're eager to have this behind you."
"I am."
"I understand. Noah -- take your bags to your old room. Rachel can help me make London broil for our Christmas Eve dinner. Has she tried out the recipe I gave her?"
"A couple of times," Noah replied.
"How did it come out?"
"Good. Almost as good as yours, Mom."
Rachel put her arms around Noah's neck and he hugged her. "I thought you said mine came out better," she whispered into his ear.
"Diplomacy," he whispered in reply. "Yours was better." He picked up their cases. "I'll show you our quarters for the next couple of days." He led her upstairs and into his childhood bedroom. "It's only a full sized bed," he remarked, "not the queen size we have at home. It means we'll need to cuddle closer. Do you want to unpack -- put stuff in the dresser?"
"No -- I can live out of a suitcase for a couple days."
Noah held her hand and they strolled through the living room. A Scotch pine Christmas tree with twinkling multi-colored lights and vintage glass ornaments stood in the corner. Sitting on a sofa and drinking beer from a bottle was a man closely resembling Noah, but with a bald spot developing on the top of his head. In an easy chair was a big-boned and slightly overweight blonde woman with brilliant blue eyes.
"This is Marcus, my brother," Noah said. "And Sarah, my sister-in-law. This is Rachel."
Marcus stood. "Pleased to meet you."
"You're the one who helped me attempt to locate Seth ... or whatever his real name is," Rachel said to Sarah. "I appreciate your efforts, even though we came up empty."
"Well -- we have located someone who might be the culprit. He's a serial philanderer -- he's fathered a dozen kids by as many women, often giving them phony names. If you're looking for child support, it's get in line, sister."
"That's behind me," Rachel replied. "I'd prefer to forget about him."
Sarah nodded. "Meredith told me you were giving up the baby."
"It's for the best," Noah interjected.
"Probably," Sarah agreed.
"Grab a cold one," Marcus said to his brother. "The game will be on soon."
"You watch the game. I'm going to kibitz in the kitchen."
"Hey, Noah," Marcus added, "did you hear? They've upped the accumulation. We're expecting ten to twelve inches now."
The lights and television blipped off. "What the?" Noah asked.
"Wait for it..." Marcus said. After a minute the lights flickered back on." The generator came on line," he said proudly. "I'll go check on her." He hopped up and pulled on his jacket and boots. "I'll bet someone slid off the pavement and knocked over a power pole somewhere."
Noah stepped into the kitchen where his mother and Rachel were preparing dinner. "I am glad Marcus keeps that generator running," his mother said. "There are many time when we're the only house on the hill with lights on."
Avriella
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