The Three Signs - Book 4 - LisaChapter 16: Babies And Bullets free porn video

“It’s on,” Mary Beth said. “Their baby is on the way!”

“Oh, I had better get up to the hospital then,” Mrs. White said. “Where should I put my case?”

I showed Mrs. White where her bedroom would be; told her that this afternoon we would get the bed made with fresh sheets, and put some towels out for her. Mary Beth was ready to take her up to the hospital; I would clean the bedroom and make her bed with some fresh sheets. At least the room was ready for her when she returned from the hospital.

Meanwhile, the others had arrived for a short rehearsal session, I showed Ange the room at the back of the studio where she was welcome to stay and sleep, so she wouldn’t have to keep driving back and forward from her place to mine.

“This is nicer than the bedroom I have back at my terrace house,” she said. “Although I suspect that whole row will be knocked down soon, I’m going to have to find somewhere else to live.”

“Well, the only problem with the rooms here in the studio is there’s no toilet or bathroom; unless you want to walk back to the main house,” I said. “I guess I should see about getting a half-bathroom added at the back of the garage.”

“That’s not going to be a problem,” Ange said. “At the worst, I could get an old fashioned chamber pot!”

We had a quick run through of the sets for the evening’s gig, then loaded the trailer, and headed across to Enmore. As we were setting up on the stage, I though back to the last time we played here, how Chrissy joined us on stage, and she and I sang together. I hoped that things were working out between her and Mark; if I was completely honest, I missed not being with her. As I carried my equipment in and set it up on the stage, I tried to work out my feelings for the other women that had been involved with Lisa and me. They were all quite different; Fiona, Georgina and Chrissy. Each was fun and enjoyable in their own way; but if I had to pick a favourite, then it would have to be Chrissy. Maybe because we had that strong emotional bond singing up on the stage together. Much like Megan and I developed that close relationship singing and performing together, there was the start of something like that with Chrissy. Why had that not developed with Fiona? Maybe because we never actually sang close together, not like the way Megan and I, or Chrissy and I did.

It didn’t take us all that long to set things up; time for a quick sound check, and for Murph to adjust the lighting. I enjoyed the setup of the Enmore Theatre, it had more character than many of the other venues that we played at; and the acoustics were pretty fantastic. We waited in the back room, had some dinner, and the discussion was all about Wendy, and whether she had given birth yet, and how many babies she was having. Mary Beth called home, but there was no answer, then called Patrick at the hospital.

“No birth action yet,” Mary Beth reported. “The doctors believe she’s having twins though.

“I guess we’ll know sooner or later,” Paul said.

The gig went rather well, I thought; the audience were really into the music, we played two encores before we felt we could call it a night. We packed our equipment up, and drove back to Lane Cove. Unloading the trailer could wait until the morning, we all felt too tired to do that right then and there. Ange made her way up to the bedroom behind the studio, while Lisa and I went to our bedroom.

“Our first night at home without Fiona,” I said to her. “I wonder where she is at the moment. I guess somewhere between Singapore and Bahrain, maybe flying over India.”

“Yes, that’s probably right. I wonder if she is thinking about us, maybe wondering what we are doing,” Lisa replied. “Let’s give her something to think about.”

We made love gently, then fell asleep.

When we woke up in the morning, Mary Beth was all excited.

“I just had a call from Patrick, they have twins, a boy, Patrick Joseph the third, and a girl, Fiona Siobhan. Wendy had an emergency caesarean, the birth process wasn’t progressing the way the doctors would have been happy, and they felt that the babies were in some slight distress, so they wheeled her into an operating room, and did the C-section. But all of them are well, the babies are healthy, and Wendy is recovering from the op.”

“That’s great,” I said. “Did Patrick say when we could go up and see them?”

“Not until tomorrow morning, according to the doctors. Wendy needs time to recover, and they are keeping the two babies under close observation. Pretty much standard in those situations.”

“So now they have to prepare for two babies,” Lisa said. “That’s going to be extra stress for them.”

“Just as well Wendy has two boobs, she can feel both kids at the same time!” I said.

“Trust you to think of that, Will,” Mary Beth chided me. “Now, Patrick did have a message for you and Chris, wondering if you can go up to the shops at Wallaceway to Grace Brothers and get a second crib. Here’s the model number, the same as the one that have. Plus a second bouncinette, and a carry basket like the one that’s in their room. He’ll pay you back once they are home.”

“Not a problem, I will pick them up Monday, when the shops open. I guess the crib comes as a kit that we have to put together?”

“Yeah, but you and Chris should be smart enough to do that.”

Ange arrived for breakfast, having already had her shower. She thanked me for letting her stay in the studio, saying it was better than driving back home late at night.

“The bed was fine, more comfortable than the one I have at home. And it’s so quiet here! I slept the whole night through; normally something wakes me up at least once or twice a night, sirens, or people fighting in the street.”

“Sounds like a choice neighbourhood,” I said. “Where we lived in Erskineville, there wasn’t anything like that. Well, the first house, just up the road from the main drag and the pubs, sometimes we would get people walking home pissed. There was a little lane running along one side of the house, and every so often a drunk would stop there to relieve themselves; or some amorous couple would stop there, not able to wait until they got home before getting it on.”

“That’s pretty mild compared to where I am around Eveleigh,” she said. “Now, I’m not wanting to sound prejudiced or anything, but if you, Will, were to walk around there late at night, being a white guy, you might run into a bit of trouble. I’m not saying it’s a ‘no go’ area, but just a place to be aware of your surroundings.”

“Sounds ... interesting, I guess. Although it’s probably convenient to where you were teaching,” I said.

“Yeah, not that being close to my old school is a consideration now; I’m either in classes at the Conservatorium, or at the main university campus.”

“So what is the actual degree you are studying?” I asked

“A Master of Music, in Music Education. There’s stuff on composition, teaching methods, advanced music theory, music history, quite a varied program.”

“All that stuff on composition and music theory, that’s going to be really good for us in the group,” I said. “We really need to do more writing original songs, I’m hopeless at it, so having you with us will be a huge bonus.”

“Well, I’m not sure if I’m really up to writing stuff for us to perform, but we can see.”

I asked Lisa if she would come over to the studio with me, as I had an idea I wanted to run past her. I had never really worked out what do to with the area at the back of the studio; originally when the garage had been built as a coach house, the lower level had six stables for horses at the back. We used these for storage areas, but above the stables, at the studio level there were what was original a hay loft. There was still the old wooden ladder attached to the rear wall, even though the access holes in the floor of the hay loft, where the hay bales would have been moved through were now covered up. At one stage in the past, well before we had moved into the house, the individual hay storage areas had been walled in with temporary, fibro walls. One of these rooms was where Ange had spent the night, but I thought with a little bit of work, we could turn them into something better.

There were six rooms, corresponding to the six original stable stalls below, three on each side of a wide hallway running from the studio to the back wall of the building. Each room was about eight feet wide by ten feet deep, big enough for a single bed. All that was lacking was a toilet / bathroom, plus proper power and lighting in each room. The temporary walls would need to be replaced with proper framing and gyprock wallboard, but that wasn’t a major job. Of course, putting in a shower, toilet, and the necessary water and drain connections would need someone skilled in that. I would probably call Paul Ramos.

“What if we changed these little storage rooms into some bedrooms,” I said to Lisa, “we could have two single size bedrooms, turn another two into a larger bedroom, and have a storage area and a half bath? Toilet, shower, washbasin; my thought would be that people can crash here overnight after gigs or rehearsals. The shower and toilet would mean they wouldn’t have to traipse back to the main house.”

“That sounds a good idea,” she said. “Could you do it yourself?”

“Some of it, I’m sure I could, get Murph to help me. But the plumbing work, that would need someone who knows what they are doing; probably Paul and Chris Ramos. I don’t know what sort of council approval is required; I’ll talk to Ian Craig tomorrow about it.”

“I think it’s a great idea; but why are you asking me about it?”

“Because this places is also yours now; I’m not going to do anything to it without talking to you first, and getting your opinion.”

“I guess so, I just never thought of it as my place, it’s always been yours.”

“Do you remember all of the papers we signed on our wedding day, along with the official Government ‘fucking license’, there was the title transfer document, putting the house in both of our names?”

“I do remember that. I didn’t see one that was called a ‘fucking license’, but I do remember signing the title transfer.”

“Well, technically the other one was called a ‘marriage license’, but the effect is the same, it means we are legally allowed to fuck,” I said, laughing with her. “Putting the legality of us fucking to one side, this house, this property is now just as much yours as it is mine. So any decisions we make on changes to the place, or anything like that, it’s not just my decision to make, but yours as well.”

“I knew there was a reason why I married you,” she said, hugging me. “Not just the great sex, but you provide me with a neat house, too!”

“The house, and all of my possessions, well, I guess part of being a married couple is sharing everything like that. It’s a package deal.”

“I love dealing with your ‘package’,” she said, laughing.

“But being serious,” she continued, “all of the other stuff that I have experienced since meeting you, it’s been overwhelming. I mean, we had only just started going out, and you got me involved with your group, learning how to run the mixing panels. I got to meet all of these other famous musicians, and the other week, there I was, being interviewed by Molly Meldrum on ‘Countdown’. Can you imagine what my friends from school would have been thinking when they saw Lisa Coleman on there the other night? But apart from that, look at our lifestyle. I mean, we’re not obscenely rich, but we have enough money to do and buy whatever we need; and there’s this fantastic house. You have all these really great friends, who have welcomed me into the fold, and are now my good friends as well. I feel like Cinderella must have felt after the ball, when Prince Charming came around with the glass slipper; I’m getting so much! And all of these things, the money, the house, the opportunities; they are things that most people take quite a few years to achieve; not get them automatically when they are twenty-one, without having to work for them!”

“Heh; I’m no Prince Charming!” I said. “But remember, along with that you get all the crap, as well. Like how I have this irrational fear of flying. Playing in the group means that a lot of the time I have off from my work is involved in playing gigs somewhere. So, are you concerned that somehow you’ve got all these benefits that you haven’t earned?”

“I guess so, I mean, I was always a bit contemptuous of the girls from really rich families; they got all sorts of gifts and things, fancy clothes, cars, apartments, without having to work for it. I’ve always felt that in life, you should have to work for what you get in life. It’s a very Calvinistic philosophy, I guess, that ‘Protestant work ethic’.”

“I can understand that; I felt much the same about all the things I’ve got through music.”

“But you’ve worked hard for that, you’ve got real talent. You’ve earned every bit of your success; all I did was marry you.”

“You were right to put your fears down to what you referred to as the ‘Protestant work ethic’, showing signs of hard work was meant to be an indication of your status as one of the ‘elect’ that God had predestined to be ‘saved’. According to the Calvinists and the Puritans, work is an assignment God gives us, a calling, as it were. What it has become is a means where those with money justify their position; the poor are poor, because they are lazy, so why should our taxes be spent on dole bludgers and welfare queens? But I digress; there’s more to life than having to toil away, working for our masters, just to get by. I have been fortunate to get off to a good start in life, and because I want to share my life with you, you will share in the benefits of being with me.”

“I guess so, it’s all such a big change in my life, it’s hard for me to get used to it. It’s not that I’m ungrateful, or I don’t appreciate everything you’re doing for me.”

“I guess that’s what some of the things in those vows of ours meant,” I said. “But you are right, it will take both of us a little while to become accustomed to being married and a couple.”

She gave me a big hug, and kissed me on the lips.

“I knew there was a reason why I love you,” she said softly.

At the afternoon rehearsal, Mary Beth went over the schedule for the coming week; two nights at the Antler, two at Miller’s Brighton, then another Saturday night at the Enmore Theatre.

“Are we always full on with gigs like this?” Ange asked.

“No, this is only because we are in the school and university vacation period,” Phil said. “From next week, we will be back to maybe one or two nights a week; Fridays and Saturdays, plus rehearsal on Saturday afternoons. Things will pick up for the week of the end of August, and over summer, December to February, we will have lots going on. We need to start thinking about another album, too.”

“Maybe a tour or two,” Mary Beth said. “We like to get up to Newcastle and Gosford at least twice a year, we have been asked back to Canberra, and it’s been a while since we did Melbourne, too.

“Melbourne? That would be fun,” Ange said. “I’ve never been there, it would be fun to spend a week down there.”

The rehearsal session was pretty light; we didn’t feel that there was anything that really needed work on; so we kicked around a few ideas for some new songs; jammed for a while, and decided to call it a day by 5:00.

After breakfast, Mary Beth, Murph, Lisa and I drove up to the hospital, to see Wendy, Patrick and their two new babies. We found their room, Wendy was just finished giving the babies their morning feed. She was sitting back in her bed, one of the babies sucking peaceful at one milk-engorged breast, she looked every bit the classic image of ‘mother with baby’. She looked completely at ease, even though her complete upper body was exposed, and I could see how her areolas – at least the one that was left vacant at the present – was a dark brown; her nipple was large. The whole area was damp, no doubt from one of the babies having just suckled there.

“Congratulations to both of you,” Mary Beth said. “How are you feeling after it all, Wendy?”

“Oh, much better today; I was completely rooted after everything yesterday morning; I was really aching from where they cut me open,’ she replied. “And I was exhausted, it really took things out of me.”

“I guess both babies are doing well?” Lisa asked.

“Very well, the doctors are quite pleased,” Patrick said. “Feeding well, they’ve been sucking the life out of Wendy’s boobs every few hours; which is a good sign, too.”

“Here, Patrick, can you put Fiona in her crib?” Wendy asked, passing the baby to him.

I could see her other nipple was just as large; there was a residue of some of her milk left around it.

“I’m glad they aren’t born with teeth!” Wendy exclaimed. “My nips are already getting sore from all the sucking; if I don’t feed every few hours, the milk just leaks out of my boobs! And I’ve got this huge scar right down my stomach, here, have a look!”

She pulled the sheets from her lower body, and I could see where they had opened her up for the caesarean. There were a row of stitches from just below her naval down to the top of her groin.

“Wow!” Lisa said. “Did that hurt? How are you feeling now?”

“Well, they gave me anaesthetic before cutting me open,” Wendy replied. “But I was really out of it, there was lots of pain from the contractions and trying to push them out in the normal way. I would have continued, but the doctor said the babies were starting to get distressed, and it was done for their benefit. I think they were worried about a lack of oxygen or something; I was just too exhausted to continue, or even worry about what they were doing to me.”

“Well, all of you are doing well, that’s the important thing.” I said. “I guess you were right in your suspicions about having twins, though.”

“Did you get the message about getting us the second crib, and other stuff?” Patrick asked me.

“Sure did; I’ll pick them up this morning, once we’ve finished here,” I said. “I’ll see if I can put the crib together for you, too.”

We continued talking some more; Lisa got to hold one of the babies (I think it was Patrick III, not really sure) until he started crying; Wendy told Lisa to pass him over to her, as he was probably hungry. I felt that feeding the two of them was going to be a non-stop activity, I could imagine as soon as one baby had their fill of milk, and was back down the other would wake up, hungry. But Wendy seemed to be very relaxed with feeding them, once the baby had latched onto her breast, she lay back against her pillows while the young one suckled. I was reminded of a saying – the only intuitive interface is the nipple.

“Hey, Will, I’ve got another favour to ask, but this one is a big one,” Patrick said. “My parents are getting here from Boston on Friday morning, and do you think we could put them up somewhere in the house? It will be for two weeks, max.”

“Yeah, not a problem,” I said. “What do you think, Lisa, we could camp out in the studio? See what those rooms are like as bedrooms before we get the alterations made?”

“That sounds like fun,” she said. “It’s only for two weeks, we are close enough to the main house so we can use the bathroom there, I’m sure we can cope with that.”

“Thanks so much, if they are here with us, it will be better for them than having to stay in a hotel.”

After a while, Wendy started to look rather tired; not all that surprising considering everything she had gone through in the last two days. We congratulated them again, then headed off home, via the Wallaceway shopping centre to get the additional items Patrick had asked for. When we got home, Murph and I tried to assemble the crib; I have no idea who had written the assembly instructions, but with their help – or, more accurately, despite the instructions – we managed to get the crib assembled. It turned out there were three sizes of bolts that were used to attach the various components together; or, more accurately, three lengths of bolt, one inch, one and a quarter inches, and one and three quarters (or their metric equivalents... ). The instructions somehow avoided showing which particular length of bolt was to be used in each location, of course, we had happened to use the longest bolts in places where the short, one inch long bolts would have sufficed. So, of course, in making the final assembly, the short bolts were, well, too short.

“Fucking Chinese instructions,” Murph cursed.

We pulled everything apart, and started again, this time making sure that when we used a bolt to assemble two parts, the bolt was ‘barely long enough’ to join the parts. When it was completed, we checked that it was solid, the side opened as it was meant to, and then tightened every bolt. A job well done, even if it took two attempts.

Mid-afternoon, I called Paul and Chris Ramos, and outlined what I was thinking about for the rooms at the back of the studio. They said they could be over tomorrow afternoon to take some measurements and talk over some options with me. They said I wouldn’t need to get any heritage approval, since we wouldn’t be changing the outside appearance of the building. But we would need to get building approval, since we were putting in plumbing and a sewer line; Ian should be able to handle the paperwork for that.

Later in the afternoon, Mary Beth and Ange went across to see Charlie, at Kinkz Outfitters, so she could get her stage outfits. When they returned, Ange was bubbling over with excitement, wanting to try them on for the evening’s rehearsal.

“That Charlie is a real character,” Ange said. “But I actually learned something from him; I had always thought my bust was a 36-D; but I’m actually a 38-C. It was so funny how he checked, you tell them, Mary Beth.”

“Well, we went in for the fitting, and Ange said that she was a 36-D. Charlie just looked at her, shook his head, and said ‘I think not’,” Mary Beth said. “In all the time we’ve been going to his shop, I’ve never yet seen him get a woman’s measurement wrong, just from looking at her. Anyway, he told Ange, ‘your bra cups are like a big bag of potato chips; they look great, but once you open them, they are half full of air’. Then, he slid a hand inside a bra cup, and felt around.”

“I was so embarrassed, but he was right,” Ange continued. “He could get his whole hand inside, between the bra and my tit, and he told me that a properly fitted bra cup should hug the boob, just the way his hand was. Anyway, I’ve got all of my outfits, plus the full set of cup inserts. I was amazed at all of the clothes and outfits he had there, most of them I can’t imagine where someone would wear them! First time I’ve just had a guy casually slide his hand into my bra, and feel my tits though!”

“And with Charlie, he wouldn’t have thought it was anything strange about doing that,” Allison said. “Guess how he fitted Will for his leather pants?”

After dinner, we all met up in the studio to run over the sets for the next two nights at the Antler. Ange was the subject of some good natured teasing from Allison, Rachel and Traci about what she could expect to see in the front of the audience; she was wearing her newly acquired hot pants and brief top.

“What key should we play the next song in?” she asked. “The key of C?”

She slipped one of the smaller inserts into her bra.

“Or the key of D?” She then put a larger pair in. “Maybe the key of Double D, major?”

The change in the shape of her breasts was amazing; not that she was a small normally, but with the inserts in her bra, they looked stunning.

“Double D might be a bit too much, Ange,” Rachel said. “You put me to shame, no matter what you have in!”

“Did you get the largest set?” Allison asked. “What key are those in?”

“I am almost afraid to try them,” Ange said. “Let me put them in.”

She pulled the set of implants out of her bra, and put the larger set in; adjusted the fit. I couldn’t believe the transformation; but despite them looking much larger, they still had a natural curve to them. They didn’t look ‘fake’ at all.

“Damn, girl, those are some bodacious titties!” Traci said. “You can just rest your saxophone between them, you have a built in instrument stand!”

“I think these are too much,” Ange said. “The ones I had in before seemed to look more natural.”

She removed the inserts, straightened her top.

“Maybe just my unenhanced pair for the rehearsal,” she said.

“They are still far more impressive than my poor little tittles,” Rachel said. “I love having the largest ones in, as well as boosting my titties, it really boosts my ego!”

The next afternoon, Phil and Chris Ramos walked around the studio with Lisa and me. I mentioned how I wanted to get a half-bath installed; a toilet, wash basin and shower, and to get the other rooms spruced up to serve as sleeping quarters.

“We didn’t run any hot water to the sink in the studio area,” I said. “I guess it’s too far to run a hot water line from the main house?”

“Yeah, what I would recommend is we run a gas line from the main utility room,” Chris said, “and we use a gas continuous hot water unit for the shower, wash basin and sink. That has a flow sensor on the water line, and turns on the gas heat when the water starts flowing. There’s no storage of the hot water, and it’s not as if the hot water will be needed all that often over here. I mean, no one will be staying here permanently, will they?”

“So, we will have to run a gas line from the house, and a sewer line back to pick up the main outfall line,” Paul said. “That’s not going to be too much of a problem. I assume there’s sufficient electrical? We’ll need a dedicated GFI line for the bathroom.”

“Should be fine; Paddy ran a decent circuit to the main breaker board when we first did the fitout here,” I said.

“Did you want us to replace that corrugated iron skillion roof?” Chris asked. “It’s a bit, well, a lot crappy, and I don’t know how secure the sheets are. There could be problems with corrosion and water leaks in the future.”

“We could replace it with a proper hip roof, tiled to match the existing roof,” Paul added. “And continue the gutter, make it look like it’s all part of the one structure.”

“Makes sense to me,” I said. “Get proper insulation up there, too.”

We had now reached the end of the upper hallway, and Paul noticed a bit of a ‘bounce’ in the floor boards.

“This doesn’t seem as secure as the rest of the floor,” he said. “I think this is where the original opening was to allow hay bales to be passed up and down.”

We looked at the floor from down below, we could see where the floor joists had been left missing so to allow for an opening in the floor.

“We’ll have to replace them,” Chris said. “If you are going to carpet the area, then we can pull all of the boards up, put larger sheets of OSB down. That will make for a more secure floor, too.”

“The bathroom will get the composite compressed fibro cement floor,” Paul said. “That gives us a good waterproof base for tiling.”

“Okay; now the actual rooms; do you want to keep them the same size, or change sizes?” Chris asked. “It’s not going to be a problem either way, since we will pull out all these temporary walls, the fibro and the floor boards. We are going to have to frame up for proper walls anyway.”

“I was thinking that on each side of the hallway, we combine the two rooms to make a larger room; the one at the back on the left can stay as it is, and the back room on the right will be the bathroom,” I said.

“No problems, that will work,” Paul said. “Let’s get some measurements, draw up a plan.”

It didn’t take long to complete the plan; they also suggested putting fibreglass batt insulation in all of the walls, and in the ceiling. They suggested that along with an exhaust fan in the bathroom ceiling, they included some infrared heat lamps. I said that if they did the necessary demolition, framed up the walls and finished of the bathroom area, I could get the other work done, including the electrics, the gyprock wallboard and all painting. We agreed to the scope of works, and they would talk to Ian about getting any necessary council approvals; and have a quote to me by Friday.

“Once we start, there’s maybe three or four weeks work, max,” Chris said. “Not counting what you will be doing yourself, of course.”

We would have to look around, choose what tiles we wanted for the bathroom floor, and other items, like a vanity, the wash basin; Lisa and I would visit a few hardware stores and buy the items we needed. We would also need to get some lights for the bedrooms; I made a list of the electrical items we would need. We thought that having four double power outlets in each room would be sufficient.

With the studio accommodation plans under way, it was time to load up for the night’s gig at the Antler. As we were setting up on the stage, Allison warned Ange about some of the women who would line the front of the stage.

“If you are lucky, you will get to see some of Will’s girlfriends,” she said. “They normally stand along the front of the stage, and show him their assets!”