Inspite of Connie's concerns, once we started it just seemed to happen for us. No one told us what to do or how to do it – we just knew. We undressed each other, and then lay for hours, exploring every inch of each others bodies until I felt I knew hers as well as I knew my own – where she liked to be touched… and how… the way she reacted as I caressed her and the way she clung to me as I took her to her peak. I'd never known anyone that intimately, and I liked it.

It's not that I've not had boyfriends; god knows I have, but I've never had one who touched me like Connie did – physically or emotionally. I loved every single second of being with her – discovering who she was, and having her discover me.

What I didn't know, was that there was one very large discovery I still had to make about her. It was a little after 3am, and I was in her arms, coming down from an orgasm like no other I'd ever known as she continued her intimate caresses. I found myself lightly running my hands over the contours of her body and, as my hands settled on her stomach, I felt her freeze.

I looked up at her curiously, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, brushing my question aside, but it didn't nothing to allay my concerns and as she started to rub me again, trying to distract me with sex, I pulled away from her, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was bothering her.

I asked a second time what was wrong, and on receiving no answer I retraced my steps, going back to the moment where she froze up. I slid my hands back onto her stomach and stroked it, watching her face for clues. She gave me nothing, but as I continued to feel her stomach I realised that the answer I was looking for was right there, under my hands.

In a fullness that I'd missed before.

"You're pregnant."

I'd phrased it as a statement not a question but she nodded anyway, and it made a lot of things made sense.

"You said you had a lot going on in your life at the moment." I said slowly, keeping my tone neuteral, not wanting her to think I was judging her, "You meant the baby."

Again she nodded, pulling away from me and looking incredibly guilty, "Yeah. I…" her eyes filled with tears again and I instantly moved to cuddle her. It seemed to be second nature to me now, "I… rowed with the father today. I'm sorry."

I knew it ought to hurt me that she'd come and bedded me because of a row with a former lover, but at the same time I also know it would have been hypocritical of me to let it. I'd known from the word go that she wanted me because she felt alone, and after all, wasn't that precisely the same reason that I'd wanted her?!

As she continued to cry I rocked her back and forth in my arms, stroking her hair – the mother to her child.

Ironically.

She continued to apologise long into the night, but she didn't need to.

All the mattered to me was taking care of her.