Jim peeled his eyes open at the shrill sound of his alarm, vibrating on the nighstand. How could it already be morning? After the kids had gone to bed last night, he and Pam had enjoyed some much needed alone time, and didn’t hit the sack till well after midnight. Now it was six in the morning and early spring light was stinging through the window and into his eyes. Next to him, huddled under the pillow in an attempt to preserve the darkness, as Pam.
“There’s no way it’s time to get up,” she mumbled, voicing Jim’s thoughts.
“Well then, the alarm clock’s gone crazy,” Jim groaned, rolling from bed. He shivered in the cool air, heaved the enormous closet door open, grabbed the first suit in sight. Pam managed to lift her head from the pillow, groaning like a zombie.
“Fine, Beesly, you get an extra five minutes to sleep in,” Jim said with a smirk towards his dozing wife. “But you owe me.”
Across the hall from their bedroom, Jim slipped into his daughters’ bedroom, where Ceci and Laura slept. The two of they were bundled tightly in their blankets. Jim made a mental note to turn down the air conditioner.
“Rise and shine!” he exclaimed, drawing open the curtains to flood the room with light. Ceci popped her curly head up almost immediately, her blue eyes strained.
“Daddy, is it morning?” she asked almost confusedly.
“Well, of course, he said back, not dwelling on the comment. He scooped Laura from her crib and smiled. It was the first night Laura hadn’t woken Ceci and the rest of the household up in a while.
At almost one, baby Laura took a strong resemblance to Ceci, meaning, she looked nothing like either of her parents. With thick blonde hair and blue eyes, Jim would never have thought those girls would be his own.
There was a small noise in the doorway, and Jim swiveled around to see Phillip, standing in his race car themed pajamas. His ruffled brown hair made him look like a younger version of Jim.
“Everyone’s awake!” Ceci yelled, jumping from her bed and landing squarely on the worn pink carpet. “Let’s eat!”
Breakfast in the Halpert household was a well oiled machine. The kids were usually satisfied to eat toaster waffles and cold cereal, and Jim and Pam stuck to toast and coffee. The breakfast table in the kitchen became filled with crumbs, spilled milk, and various toys the kids dragged to the table as Pam and Jim ran around trying to get everyone out of the house. Today though, when Pam finally stumbled sleepily into the kitchen, Jim ad managed to dress all but Ceci and feed all but Phillip. Not bad for a solo job.
“Made you some coffee,” Jim said, handing Pam the glass mug from the set Ceci’s grandmother had given them for Christmas.
“Thanks,” Pam smiled, pulling the cream from the fridge.
“God, how do you drink that?” Jim marveled as he watched his wife pour in half of the bottle.
“What can I say, I like my sugar.”

Half an hour later, the Halpert family managed to squeeze out the door. As Jim slid into the driver’s seat of their car, Pam went over the checklist.
“Ceci’s backpack?”
“Check!” Ceci yelled.
“Diaper bag?”
“Check,” Jim said, patting the black bag at his feet.
“Wallet and purse, check,” Pam mumbled to herself. “Looks like we’re ready to go!”
“Go! Let’s go!” Phillip yelled, bouncing in his carseat. He had taken a particular interest in traveling by car since Pam had let him sit in the middle of sisters, where he could watch Jim drive every morning.
“Where are we going first?” Pam said out loud.
“My school!” Ceci explained to her mother.
Fifteen minutes later, Jim pulled the car up to Bluemont Elementary, and Ceci jumped out, waving a quick goodbye to her family before waving to a friend and disappearing into the building.
“When did she get so independent?” Jim asked almost disappointedly.
“Since she started school this fall. Oh don’t worry Jim, you still have to more at home!” Pam gestured with a laugh to Phillip and Laura, who were playing a sloppy game of peek-a-boo in the back seat.
The drive to daycare took longer than usual, as Jim managed to hit all the red lights down Main Street.
“Hurry up,” Pam faked a groan. “We wouldn’t want to miss the office party today!”
“Oh yeah, what’s this one for?” Jim asked.
“Springtime maybe? Michael just needed an excuse to stop working.”
“Of course.”
They had pulled up to the white brick building, and Pam hopped out of the car to get the kids. Phillip insisted on giving his father a kiss goodbye, and Jim watched as the three of them disappeared inside.
“The inside of the daycare center, Pam thought, was quite welcoming. The spacious room was filled with playground equipment, including a sandbox and swings. Phillip squealed with his usual delight when a teacher he knew rounded the corner into the room.
“Hey Phillip!” she exclaimed, scooping the boy into her arms. “How are you?”
“I’m good! Hey, it’s Charlie!” Phillip squirmed to the ground and ran to join a small kid with sand colored hair across the room. The woman, who Pam new to be named Mrs. Black, took Laura from Pam and Pam jogged back to the car. Jim sped out of the parking lot, and the two of them stumbled into the office, receiving a suspicious glare from Dwight.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” Dwight said, clicking his stapler.
“Jim, Pam, guess what!” Michael popped his head out of his office. “Come look at this. No wait, I’ll bring it to you.” Michael ducked back in, grabbed his computer from his desk, and dragged it with him, wires popping out behind him. The computer, now unplugged, sizzled to black, and Michael groaned in frustration.
“Someone want to explain?” Jim asked to the office in general, and Phyllis waved them over excitedly.
“Trailers for the sequel are out!” she said, and Pam winced slightly at her breath. Jim peered at the computer screen, and watched as another trailer played out, this one featuring new footage. A montage of Michael’s failed comedy acts, a clip from Ceci’s christening, and a few shots of Angela and Dwight’s wedding.
“Wait, I thought the sequel wasn’t coming out until the fall,” Pam said.
“Well, they pushed it up to next month,” Michael yelled, jumping up behind the group of people who had gathered to watch Phyllis’s computer.
“What, but…” Pam looked to Jim, remembering a conversation the two of them had after the airing of the first documentary. They had been followed home by a group of people claiming to be their “biggest fans!”
“I don’t like being famous,” Pam had proclaimed as she shut all the blinds in their house tightly.
“If there’s ever another… documentary like this, we’ll skip town for a while. Go on vacation.” Jim had laughed. Pam had nodded in vigorous agreement, and although the two had never discussed it again, Pam had always promised herself that she would follow through with Jim’s idea.
“So this will be a productive work day,” Pam mumbled as she plopped down in her desk chair. Jim laughed out loud as the rest of the office slowly returned to their seats. Even Michael managed to sit in his office for the rest of the morning without any major interruptions. Pam let herself stray from filling out online forms and looked up hotels in faraway places. Hawaii? California? New Jersey? There were plenty of places Pam wanted to go, and the more she thought about it the more she wanted to get out of town fast. She found herself distracted and getting nothing done, so when she received a surprise phone call from the daycare center at lunch, she was shocked.
“Yes, vomiting from both of them and Phillip complains of stomach aches,” Mrs. Brown relayed to Pam.
“What? But they were fine this morning,” she said, gesturing to Jim at his desk. He stood up next to her, and she gave him a slight frown as she hung up.
“Phillip and Laura are sick,” she groaned, flopping into Jim’s arms.
“What? How is that possible?” Jim hastily grabbed his coat and strode toward the front of the office.
“Wait, are you sure you want to go?” Pam asked, following him. “You stay here, I’ll go get the kids. I’ll pick Ceci up straight from school instead of leaving her at daycare.” Jim looked uncertain for a moment, but nodded and slowly slumped back at his desk. He’d really been looking forward to an afternoon off from work.

Pam hastily pulled up to her house, sighing as Laura let out another angry squeal.
“Okay, we’re home we’re home,” Pam sighed. At the daycare center, Mrs. Brown had held Laura at arms length, her eyes fearful of the spewing baby. Phillip had cried about his stomach the entire ride home, and now Pam had a splitting headache. She pulled the kids from the car and fumbled with the keys at the door, slipping inside just as another wave of vomit spilled from Laura’s mouth. Pam plopped her kids on the floor and fell back against the wall. One minute, three kids was easy, exhilarating even. Then a few moments later, something like this happened and sent everything into a sticky, vomit covered mess.

When Pam peeled her red eyes open, the first thing she noticed was the smell. Jim had brought her favorite Chinese food. Phillip was still asleep next to her, a sheen of fever sweat across his face. Pam could hear Laura crying in the kitchen, and chuckled to herself at the frantic clashing of plates. Jim couldn’t even reheat food on his own.
It was growing dark outside, and Pam heaved herself up. The kids had to go to bed soon.
Pam walked into a kitchen full of chaos. Laura’s face, red with sickness, let out shrill wails. Phillip slept at the table, drool spilling from his red lips. Jim was cleaning up half a carton of milk that had spilled over the tile floor. When Pam entered he looked up sheepishly.
“Thought I’d let you sleep awhile.” Pam sighed at Jim’s sacrifice, and moved forward to hug him. Jim’s face quickly contorted to worry though. “Pam, you look miserable. You must have gotten the bug too. Go to bed, I’ll take care of the kids.”
Pam nodded to herself, sighing, and trudged out of the kitchen.

Jim felt slightly disappointed that Pam didn’t mind leaving him with three kids for the evening. Why couldn’t he have gotten sick instead? Presently, he was squatting next to the bathtub, watching wearily as Ceci splashed in the water. The two younger kids had fallen asleep at dinner, but Ceci had remained stubbornly energetic, forcing Jim through three rounds of Candyland and a game of princess dress up. Now it was eight on the nose, and Jim submerged his hand in the soapy bath water long enough to pull the drain open.
“I don’t wanna get out!” Ceci yelled. Jim shushed her frantically. He wasn’t sure which would be worse, waking Pam or waking Phillip and Laura.
Jim bundled Ceci in a fuzzy green towel, and the two traipsed down the hall to Ceci’s bedroom. Ceci, blessfully, remained silent as Jim helped her slip on a nightgown and tucked her into bed, eyeing Laura the whole time. Before turning off the lights, Jim reached over and brushed his fingers across Laura’s forehead, frowning at her distinct fever.
Across the hall, Pam pried her eyes open. What time was it? Did Jim need help with the kids? She noticed Jim loitering near the door to the room, and managed an attempt at a smile. He gave her a strange look, and Pam realized her smile had come out more like puke face. He walked over to her side of the bed, placed his large hand across her forehead. His face registered with confusion.
“You don’t have a fever.”
“I don’t?” she replied, her heart almost sinking. Given what had happened in the past few days, Pam would have given anything for this to just be the stomach flu.”
“Well, Beesly, this has got to be a new record,” Jim sighed with a half grin, sinking down onto the bed.
“A record for what?” Jim asked, closing her eyes from drowsiness.
“I don’t know, how about record time for an entire family to come down with the flu? Or maybe a record for the most stressful evening of my life.”
“I’m sorry, Jim, I just…” Pam trailed off, giving Jim a chance to interrupt, to tell her that she was sick, and needed to rest. Instead he just rubbed his forehead for a moment, and then crossed the room and disappeared into the bathroom. Pam tried to stay awake, but fell into a fitful sleep.

Throughout the night, Jim was interrupted every hour by another child. Even Cece complained of a headache. Each time Jim would drag himself from his dreams and follow his child back across the dark hall, give them cold medicine and tuck them into bed, then fall back to sleep. By the time it was morning, Jim totaled about four hours of sleep. Pam slumbered straight through the alarm.

Pam lost count of how long she slept. She would wake up to full a glass of water and a cup full of pink, bubblegum flavored stomach medicine. She gave a smile each time. Jim really thought she was sick. And maybe she really was, but something else pulled at the back of her mind. A twinge of worry that she wasn’t sick. That this might be something else entirely.
The third time, Pam decided Jim had done enough for her, and she dragged herself into the living room. What she came upon was the second disaster of the week.
Cece and Philip were bundled in old quilts and splayed across the couch. Each clutched a plastic bowl full of vomit that Pam was fairly sure she had eaten from before. Jim was seated on the floor, his back leaned against the side of the arm chair, rocking Laura, whose nose seemed unnaturally red.
At the sight of Pam, Jim leaped up, rolling Laura into her baby swing.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, gathering her in his arms. Pam shook him off with a small laugh, wiping a sheen of sweat from her sickly face. Everything seemed blurred around the edges, all noises muffled. Pam’s mind was racing in irrational circles, she suddenly couldn’t remember if it was a school day, did the kids need to be fed? No, they were sick. Was she sick? How would she work like this? Did Jim realize she didn’t even have a fever?
She hardly protested when Jim tugged her over to the couch and nestled Philip on her lap. She found herself staring at the wall, which Jim had dubbed the art wall. Ever since Cece had proudly carried home her first finger paint project in preschool, every trinket, piece of artwork, and project the kids had concocted had been affixed to the wall. Now Pam let her mind swim into oblivion as her thoughts sunk into the mass of dripped paint and sparkly stickers.

Jim heaved himself off the floor, his mind whirling with thoughts. Should he call in sick to work today? Of course he should. What about Pam and the kids, did they need to go to the doctor? Jim took the rest of the morning one step at a time, distributing doses of medicine and wet washcloths. He felt like a doctor in a hospital, what with the constant cries and retches. Even Pam submitted to Jim’s service, not arguing when he practically carried Pam back to their bedroom. By the afternoon Jim gave up and called the doctor, who blessfully promised an appointment for that evening. So after a family dinner consisting of mashed peas and applesauce, Jim managed to push the family into the van and staggered to the doctor’s office.
“Welcome, who is the appointment for?” the receptionist in the waiting room asked with a friendly grin.
“Actually, we have four scheduled appointments,” Jim replied with a grimace as he passed over his credit card. He joined Pam on one of the uncomfortable plastic benches arranged around the room, and watched with a pang in his heart as his kids halfheartedly fumbled with various toys.
Fifteen minutes later, the doctor clicked down the hallway, her colorful uniform billowing out behind her. She and Jim exchanged comedic greetings before the two grabbed the kids and Pam and wound down sterilized hallways to an empty exam room. The doctor, who introduced herself as Elizabeth, circled the room in a flurry of tongue depressors and thermometers. Finally, she pulled her desk chair across the room to face Jim and gave her final report.
“All three of your kids are sick, but nothing bad. Just a surprisingly strong flu. Your wife however, seems medically fine. Could she have eaten something bad?”
“We got takeout last night, but she was sick, like, half an hour later,” Jim replied, wracking his brain for suddenly fleeting info.
“Maybe I’m pregnant,” Pam interjected, leaning lazily against the wall. Two of the kids were having a meltdown on the floor, but Pam made no move to comfort them.
“No, she couldn’t be pregnant, she seems really sick,” Jim confirmed, pushing the thought of another child from his mind. He stood and gathered the kids. They left the doctor’s office with an armful of flavored medicine and a handful of bills. Jim drove home as fast as he could, his head pounding. He felt like he was a single dad to four kids today. Couldn’t Pam put in a little more effort?

When Jim eased open the van door, the kids tumbled out, and Jim felt so tired he barely registered Philip, teary eyed and feverish, slip from his car seat and make a beeline straight for the busy street. Jim had baby Laura in his arms, and Cece precariously balanced on his shoulders, he couldn’t move. All he could think of was Pam, sitting, eyes glazed over in the car. She wasn’t going to move. He knew it with a cold wrench in his stomach. He twisted sharply and dropped his girls to the grassy yard, running at top speed toward the street. Only to be passed by Pam.
Jim knew Pam had played some sports in high school, but he hadn’t known she could run like this. Then again it was an emergency. She easily scooped up Philip and jogged back to Jim and the kids before Jim could even blink. The moment the two made eye contact, Jim knew something was up. His wife wasn’t sick.

“So you really weren’t sick,” Jim repeated back to Pam, looking her in the eye to evoke guilt. The two were hidden away in their bedroom, enjoying a small slot of quiet while the kids played and dinner sizzled on the stove.
“I told, you I’m just feeling under the weather,” she replied. She saw in his face that he wasn’t going to be swayed easily, so she switched to a new method. “Is that a new shirt? It’s hot.” She trailed a finger seductively down his chest. Jim laughed, slapping her away.
“No way Beesly, you’re not getting out of this one. What makes you think you could just take a sick day? We both missed work, and the kids are actually sick-”
Pam listened carefully. She had something, a reason why she’d felt so bad lately, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Jim yet. Instead she muffled her own apologies in his chest, pulled his arms into a hug around her. She froze up suddenly when she felt his hand trace the hem of her sweatpants, and their eyes met.
“You owe me, Pam, I can do whatever I want,” Jim said sending her backwards on their bed. He laid next to her and slipped under the hem of her shirt, causing Pam’s heart to flutter.
“Jim, the kids will need us any minute, get to the good stuff,” she suggested with a smile. Jim nodded, pulling her against him. Pam felt a shiver as Jim’s hand trailed her spine. “Jim,” she whispered, arching her back under his touch. As his hand reached her waist, Jim brought his other hand around to Pam’s stomach, tracing small circles.
“Dammit, Jim, faster. It’s a miracle the kids haven’t made a peep yet,” she groaned, shifting her weight back down to the bed. Jim laughed in Pam’s ear, continuing his agonizingly slow routine. Pam sighed, flipped over, and slipped her slender fingers under the Jim’s belt loop. Jim’s eye shot open wide, his surprise causing his fingers to halt momentarily.
“Miss Pam Beesly, I thought you were sick,” Jim half growled. His hands met around Pam’s waist, and they easily pulled her t-shirt over her head.
“Oh my gosh, Jim, hurry this up!” Pam laughed into Jim’s mouth as she struggled to push her tight pants down to her knees. Jim flipped Pam onto her back and leaned over her. His left hand traced the outline of her panties, and Pam felt her back arch up again. She started to let out a soft groan.
“Jim, I’m gonna fall asleep if-” Pam choked on her words when Jim’s fingers plunged suddenly into her. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe, and omitted a series of slight gurgling noises. She coughed into Jim’s face, and he pulled back for a moment, stunned.
“Maybe you really are sick,” he said. His mouth met hers in a deep kiss. Pam felt Jim still burrowed deep inside her, but she chose instead to focus on his red lips, decorating her face with pecks. Then, just as she managed to slow her breathing to normal, she felt him twitch, and his fingers began to move, slowly. She couldn’t contain her shaky sighs for a moment longer, and she felt herself melt into the sheets, almost relaxing into the rhythm of his fingers inside her. Her breathing came out raspy, and she couldn’t help but notice an amused look in Jim’s eyes. She tried to frown at his rude reaction, but found it hard to move her muscles. He loved doing this to her, she thought. Or was she really thinking? Pam didn’t even know if she could formulate a thought at a time like this.

That evening, Jim tucked Cece into bed just as Pam waltzed into the room with Laura, whose head was still damp from her bath. Pam’s mood had lightened through the evening, and Jim avoided mentioning the earlier incident. All three of the kids were subdued by the sugary doses of cherry flavored medicine, so bedtime had happened faster than back when there were only two Halpert kids, not six months ago. Jim still thought back to those days from time to time. Not that he didn’t love Laura with all his heart, but three kids were a lot to manage.
“Pam, how about a movie night?” Jim asked as he clicked the door to the girls’ room shut. Pam nodded and grabbed his hand, leading him down the hall to the living room. The two flipped back onto the couch. Pam brushed his fingers across Jim’s face.
“I love you,” she said slowly. Jim gave her a strange look. What was with all of this sudden affection? After a day like this, the last thing Jim thought Pam would want was more romance. Then Jim met her eyes again, and he noticed something strange. Her cheeks appeared flushed, and maybe it was the lighting, but was she crying?
Pam noticed Jim’s recognition of her tears, and broke from his gaze, concentrating on the television as she flipped through the on demand movies. Jim watched her face, bathed in blue light from the screen. Something was definitely wrong, he knew.
“What’s up Pam? I told you, I’m cool that you took a sick day. Just-”
Pam interrupted him with a small whimper. She dropped the remote to the floor and stood suddenly.
“I’ll be right back,” she blurted out, her voice breaking. Jim could tell she was barely containing her tears. She darted from the room and Jim heard a door slam down the hall. Jim, not sure what to do, turned off the television and reclined on the couch. He loved Pam, and he wanted to be there for her, but he knew when she was upset, she needed her space. He waited for almost ten minutes before Jim got worried. He was just standing to check on his wife when Pam poked her head back into the room. Her face was streaked with tears, and she wouldn’t meet Jim’s eyes. Jim knew he should be concerned, but he couldn’t wrap his head around what was happening. He tried to manage words, but managed nothing but a choked groan when she sat down next to him and he saw that she had something in her hands.
“Pam, what’s wrong?” he asked. His heart sank. Something was wrong. A million possibilities flashed through his head. Was she sick? Dying? What in the world was she holding?
“Jim, I…” Pam started, pausing as she sobbed. “Jim, I don’t know how this happened. I thought that- I was sure, and…”
It was obvious that Pam wasn’t going to speak, so Jim grabbed her hands in his. She still had the thing clenched in her hand, and she wasn’t letting anyone see it.
“Pam, whatever it is, you need to tell me,” Jim whispered, moving one arm around Pam’s shoulders. Pam finally met his eyes and the two just sat for a moment, and when Jim looked back down, he saw it. And his heart skipped a beat.

“Jim, I bought a billion of the stupid things, and every one of them came up positive. Jim, I’m pregnant.”
“Well, maybe…” Jim was still at a loss for words. It was the next day, and he and Pam had taken an extended lunch break to talk about… Well, Pam knew what they had to discuss, but she’d hoped they wouldn’t jump to it so quickly.
Jim covered his face with his callused palms, letting out a small groan.
“Pam, we can’t afford another kid, not right now. Weren’t you…” Jim trailed off.
“Yes,” Pam sighed heavily, her mind racing for excuses. “I was on the pill, but I thought-”
“Pam, what you thought is irrelevant, what matters is that you’re pregnant. We have to move,” he said suddenly, with a panicked tone. “The girls already share a bedroom, and Philip’s room is the size of a walk in closet. We have to move, before the baby’s born. Now.” Jim whipped out his phone, his eyes clouding over with confused thoughts. Pam sighed.
“Look, we still need to go to the doctor, okay? If we still need to move, then… Maybe we can stay with my mom for a while,” Pam was spitballing, trying to divert attention from the fact that this was all her fault. How would her future child feel when he found out how upset his parents were at his existence? Pam knew she should be happy, but she felt exactly like Jim did, yet she somehow managed to contain her emotions long enough to pay the bill for the meal and stumble from the restaurant. The whole time Jim was on his phone, rambling off numbers and addresses like some insane hospital patient. In the end, she dropped Jim off at home, mumbling some excuse about food poisoning to Michael, then snuck into the bathroom and called her mom.
“Mom, I need to talk to you. Listen, can Jim and I come stay with you for a while? Just a week, no more. We really need to get away for a bit,” she said, holding in her stress.
“Of course. Come on over this Friday and we’ll talk,” Helene said slowly, obviously masking confusion in her voice. Pam hung up with her mother and sat in the bathroom for a long time.

That Friday, after stuffing handfuls of clothing into a few worn down suitcases, the Halperts piled into their car and started the twenty minute drive to Helene’s house. Cece and Philip babbled through the whole ride, thrilled to be going on a trip. Michael was blissfully out of the office the next week for a business trip, so they had no worries about taking some time off. Jim felt surprisingly okay given everything that had happened in the past week. Pam however, barely contained her tears until they pulled up the uneven driveway and Helene appeared on the front porch. Then melted into a fit of sobs, running inside and leaving Jim with three kids to unload. He sighed, reminding himself to be supportive, but sometimes he wished he could juts break into tears and have someone come console him.
Helene took the shocking news with a smile. “Your situation may not be ideal,” she said comfortingly, “But you’re going to love this child so much.” Jim caught Pam’s eye, and she gave him a watery smile. Jim felt better already. Of course, the fact that Helene cooked dinner and put the kids to bed may have helped a bit.
“Jim, I…” Pam started when the two of them had laid down on their bed in the guest room. Jim perked up expectantly, hoping to hear an acknowledgement of the effort he’d put into the family during the last week. Instead Pam flipped over to stare at the ceiling and drifted into an uneasy silence. He let out a sigh and put his arm around his wife.

“Well, we have the place to ourselves,” Jim began with a mischievous grin. Pam sighed, flopping over on the bed.
“Not tonight, Halpert. I’m tired.”
“Come on,” he said, laying down next to her. “It may be our last night alone for a while.” Pam shook her head firmly and let out a sigh of annoyance as she felt Jim’s finger trail down her arm. Her back arched in response to his touch, and as hard as she tried, she couldn’t manage to flatten herself back down.
“Damn Jim, you can be persuasive,” Pam started, and tried not to grin at Jim’s expression. “But I’m tired and I’m going to bed.” She rolled over and tried to shake Jim’s arm off of her but suddenly every muscle in her body melted and she fell back onto the bed as Jim’s hand dove under the hem of her shorts. “No, get off of me!” she yelled, trying to mold her face into a frown, but all she could really do was press her back into the mattress.“Jim, get your dirty paws off me this minute!” she exclaimed jokingly. She really was tired and she wasn’t going to let Jim win this one. Not without a fight.
Jim’s two fingers had parted their way into her center, and Jim chuckled under his breath at what he found.
“And you said you didn’t want this.”
“I don’t,” Pam said, but her voice came out shaky, and her words were interrupted by an uncontrollable sigh that shook her whole body. “Th-this isn’t even fair,” she stammered between breaths when Jim made a move to peel off her t-shirt. “You undress first.”
At this remark, Jim laughed out loud, and his fingers began a steady rhythm inside her. Every time Pam tried to move with his pattern, Jim would speed up or slow down, sending her body into a shiver of confusion. All hope of turning back left Pam’s mind when she felt Jim’s other hand move to cup her breast. It was a move she wasn’t particularly fond of, but now it felt amazing.
Jim’s fingers had sped up their pace, and he must have known how close she was because his movements became more intense, his hand massaged her so perfectly and Pam knew she was so close. She was just about to come crashing over the edge, when it stopped. Jim’s fingers slipped out, his hand left her breast, and he reached over to the nightstand and flicked out the light.
“Good night Pam, he said, rolling away from her in the bed.”
“What, no,” she stuttered. “I wasn’t done.”
“Oh?” Jim rolled over again, his face boasting a teasing smile. “I thought you were tired?”
“No, just… I’m not tired anymore, okay?”
“Oh, so now the tables have turned,” Jim said, pulling a pillow over his head to block out Pam’s pleas.
“You suck, Jim,” she said, sitting up in the darkness. “It’s only six thirty, I’m going to take a shower.”