The Lady’s Luck

by Eleonora


I did not want to know back then. Maybe everything was just too overwhelming. Now, looking at her face, her hands, her hair, I not only want to know, I need to know.

It had been a long conference, and after two weeks I was anxious to be home. Living together for four years, Wanda and I had our periods at the same time more often than not, and this had caused a huge fight just before I left for the airport. We both knew that period-induced craziness was to blame, and while we made up on the phone, I wanted to to do it in person as well. Sleep would have to come first however, I never got much of it on a night flight.

Wanda was already up when I entered; a dopey smile appeared on my face. She was lying on her belly on the couch, her legs kicking in the air, a glossy on the armrest. She flicked through it with her right hand, her left playing with her incredibly long hair. Wanda’s hair waved like a wave pool: contained and controlled, and a cupboard full of hair products kept it that way. When I let my bag fall on the ground, she looked up and smiled back at me. Then she frowned and said, “I had sex with two men at the same time yesterday. It was… interesting. I don’t think I ever want to have sex with a man again.”

By next day I’d attributed her statement to my sleep deprived and jet-lagged head. I must have started dreaming even before I’d reached the bedroom. And what a ridiculous dream it was: Wanda’s attitude towards men was the same as her attitude towards horses; even when they were particularly pretty, she never felt the need to ride one. I never told her about my dream. It might have been funny to hear her laugh about it, but with Wanda you never knew. I didn’t want to give her any ideas.

When Wanda started emptying her stomach on a regular basis, I did begin to worry a bit. Finding her in the bathroom holding a watch in one hand and a pregnancy test in the other, however, made that worry explode in the back of my mind. The front managed to throw out some words at random, like why, how and two, before the back took over and stormed out of the house.

I kept walking, one foot in front of the other, keeping a brisk pace. The wind whipped my hair in front of my eyes, but I didn’t care. I didn’t want to see anything, didn’t want to think anything. I only noticed the canal beside me. The water centred me. When I reached a bridge, I stopped and stood on top of it, facing the wind, staring over the water. The wind blew so hard it went right through my skirt, and made me feel naked, which suited me just fine. After a while, tears began to streak my cheeks; I blamed the wind. Later I began to tremble; I blamed the cold. But when my eyes dropped to the canal below me, and instead of waves I saw hair, I blamed Wanda. I gripped the railing and cried.

The first time I saw her it was warm and sunny. I was reading a book on the university grounds, and she was wearing a skimpy skirt. I don’t know what made me look up at that moment, but our eyes met, and she walked towards me. I figured that looking the way she did (girly and groomed, the ultimate dumb blonde), she was probably a psychology student. I enjoyed my little prejudice in the privacy of my mind, but to be honest I enjoyed watching her move a lot more.



“Aren’t you in my quantum mechanics class?”

“I take quantum, but I don’t think I ever saw you there.”

“I came in later, sat at the back. You were sort of hard to miss though, sitting in the front, and asking all those smart questions.”


“… I was wondering, would you like to help me with my homework? I don’t really understand it. I’ll take you to the cinema as a thank you, your choice of film.”

“Well, I think I could … I mean ”

“Okay, that’s settled then. This Saturday for the movie, and Monday afternoon for the homework?”

“I think so?”

“Here’s my phone number, call me when you decide which one you want to see. Oh, and by the way, my name is Wanda.”

“Why did she shave her hair? It was so pretty.”

“Well ”

“I mean, I thought it was beautiful to watch, but I didn’t really understand the plot or anything.”

“I think ”

“Oh wait, let’s go inside, I have to buy some new foundation.”

“Foundation is a bitch to get off the carpet.”

“What’d you say?”

“Nothing, I just read too much.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“OK. I’ll explain again”

“But what does that mean?”

“Hmm, one more try.”

“I just don’t know what I have to do.”

“Well, basically you have to prove this.”





“But that’s… easy.”


“How… What… I… You…”

“I told you it was easy.”


“I am a math student, aren’t I? I might not understand words, but I sure as hell understand numbers. It’s not as if I chose the subject for the social interaction, the only thing I like to talk about is superstay lipstick.”

“You would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?

“I really like your lips.”

“I have no complaints whatsoever about your lips.”

“I am happy to hear that.”

“Although, the red is starting to fade a little, come here and I’ll do something about that.”



“Stop that.”


“Not there.”




“Don’t you dare stop now!”


“My turn!”


“At least I found something that makes you shut up.”

“I never thought that of the things you can do together in bed, reading would be so much fun.”

“Apparently we’re Pratchett compatible.”

“But I laugh about different things than you.”

“Exactly, we get twice as much fun out of one book. You should know, you’re the math student.”

After the first time we met, it seemed I kept on meeting her the first time over and over. Wanda was weird, different, and she always made me feel just out of my depth. I never wanted to stop drowning.

When I couldn’t stand the cold any more, I started walking home, my teeth chattering. I thought about Wanda, and how she saw everything differently from the rest of the world. All things considered, I could forgive her. She never lied to me, didn’t even try. The knowledge of her having a one night-stand simply hurt less than the idea of leaving her.

I found her in the living room. She was sitting on the floor, surrounded by beermats. She looked at me, her eyes red. “This is why.” She gestured to the beermats.

I sat down in front of her and cupped her face in my freezing hands. “I don’t want to know why.” I tilted her head down so I could kiss her forehead, then leaned my forehead against hers, my eyes closed. “Please, just… Never again?”.

She leaned in and her warm nose made mine run. “Never again.”

I couldn’t get rid of my anger so easily. I picked fights with Wanda over the smallest things, but that got old quite soon. Wanda’s morning sickness made her miserable enough already, so I started inflicting my anger on helpless china.

On one such occasion Wanda walked in on me. I had thrown the plate on the floor, putting all my strength behind it and was now grounding the pieces with my slippered foot, scowling downwards. “Why are you mutilating plates?”

I was startled and whipped my head up. “Why am I mutilating plates? I’ll tell you why I’m mutilating plates!” I yelled. “Because every time I want to yell at you or hit you, you vomit. You retch until there nothing left in your stomach, and it’s not fair! Why can’t I be angry with you? I want to be angry with you! You cheating bitch!”

Wanda blanched. “I… I thought… I thought you’d forgiven me.”

“Well, I did. I just can’t forget.” I went down, my butt on my ankles, one arm around my knees. I picked up some of the shards and closed my hand around them, tightly. My thoughts started to float and I looked detached at the blood trickling out of my fist. Wanda sat down beside me and forced my hand to open. She carefully got rid of the pieces of plate and kissed my hand. She let my hand go and smiled at me. Then she hit me, hard. My face swung to the side and I turned back towards her, my eyes big as saucers, and my cheek stinging. “You did not just do that.” She raised her eyebrows and smiled. “You did not just do that!” I repeated. She just kept smiling and looked down suggestively, my eyes followed hers. She had been about to go to bed and was just wearing a peignoir. It was knee length and made of green silk, the colour looked splendid against her skin, especially against her pale bosom, framed by the gap. She looked so incredibly sexy, and all I wanted to do at that moment was make love to her. Then she spoiled it by giving me one of those looks she gave to other people, a fake one. The one that says, ‘I wouldn’t know, I’m blond.’ I wondered if she gave those guys the same look, before she let them touch her. At that moment, all I wanted to do was fuck her.

I grabbed her hair at the back of her neck with one hand, put the other between her breasts and shoved so we toppled on the ground. Her head bounced on my hand instead of the floor and I used her shock to get a better grip again and kissed her. I plunged my tongue into her mouth and tried to touch as much as I could; her teeth, her cheeks, her tongue, all mine. When Wanda started hitting me on my back I pulled back. I gave her a second to take a deep breath, and assaulted her lips with my teeth. I did that until I got bored and pushed myself up to my knees. I spread her legs and held her thighs down with my knees. She had her eyes closed, one hand on her mouth. I pulled the rope so her peignoir fell completely open and I could look at her. It was a stunning sight. Her white body surrounded by a sea of green, and above her heart, where I had pushed her, still bleeding, a scarlet print of my hand.

She made a sound and started to move her arm. I decided I had a better use for her hands, and grabbed them. I pushed two of her fingers down her vagina, causing her to make a slight ‘guh’ noise. I pulled up my skirt and shoved my panties down. Then I got her other hand, put it on top of the first so the backs were touching, and impaled myself on two of her fingers. It hurt and they were ice cold; it made me orgasm a bit already.

I rode her, and apart from her small, cute noises, she was quiet, as always. I wondered if she would have screamed if she’d ended up on top of the shards. That image made me buck harder, and I closed my eyes, enveloped in my fantasy. When I felt Wanda start to shiver, her body moving as if she was close to orgasm, I opened my eyes again and enjoyed the view. She had her eyes squeezed shut and was biting her lower lip. Her upper lip was still looking bright red from my earlier attentions. I looked at the other evidence I had left, and at that point just looking at the bloody hand print, made me come. The blood looked erotic, and before I could stop myself, I went down and started licking it away. It was a bit clumsy, but I managed to do it, still keeping Wanda’s hands firmly were they should be.

I stopped moving, and let my head rest between her breasts. I was panting a little and Wanda was sniffling. We lay there for a couple of minutes and when her sniffling stopped, I rolled off her. Her fingers coming out gave me small blobs of orgasms.

She put her hands on the floor for support and stood up, wobbly, “That was nice, I’m going to be sick.”

She moved out of the kitchen, and there I was: laying half naked on the floor, on top of the shards I made sure Wanda wouldn’t fall on. I was torn. I giggled, now I knew what to answer if someone asked me what the soundtrack of my life would be if it was a movie.

When half our plates had to be renewed, we decided to pick child-friendly replacements. Standing in the store, looking at Wanda squealing over ladybird designs, I realised that while the baby in Wanda’s belly had grown, the anger in mine had shrunk to nothing.

One day, when Wanda’s state was unmistakeably visible, I woke up while she was still sleeping. It was warm and the blanket got stuck below her bulging belly. For a few minutes I just lay next to her, enjoying the view. The pregnancy suited her. Then I got up, and grabbed the lotion from the bedside table. I started to massage it into her skin, following the bulge with my hands, making sure I wasn’t skipping anything. When her skin had absorbed most of the lotion and was no longer glistening I kissed her lightly just below her bellybutton. I made circles around it, touching her only with my nose. I loved running my nose over her body, and now there was a lot more of her to explore. Sadly, her voice broke my concentration.

“You know, there are other places on my body that could do with a bit of attention.”

I got up, tilted my head, pretending to think about that. Then I stuck my tongue out at her, plunged my head towards her belly and made a long wet streak from her navel to her breast. I kissed the space in between her breasts. I was on my knees, and I put my elbows on the bed so I could hold her breasts in my hands. They felt different. I kneaded them lightly, until Wanda’s moaning became a bit more desperate. I rested my chin where I had just kissed her, so I could watch her face while my thumbs made circles on her dark nipples. She looked me straight in the eyes and raised her eyebrow, telling me it was nice. Just nice. I raised my hands and moved the tops of my fingers over her breasts, barely touching. While she shivered I’d reached her nipples, and pinched them. She was still looking at me, but her eyelids were fluttering. I repeated the stroking and pinching until her eyes closed, and then I deliberately and carefully bit her left breast.

She shrieked, half in shock, half in pleasure and pain. “Hey, leave those for the baby, will you?” Even though she said it playfully, it hurt a bit. Luckily, Wanda decided to take lead. She grabbed my braid and tugged until she could put her mouth on my breast. She sucked the nipple in.

I had placed my arms on either side of her, so I could keep my weight off her, and her assault on my breast almost made me loose control and fall on top of her. When she started using her teeth I abruptly turned to the side so I was lying on my back next to her. Her teeth clacked on top of each other when they lost their prey. “Well well, being lazy this morning?”

“I rubbed lotion on you even before you were awake!”

“That’s true, I’d better return the favour.” She got up to get the lotion and spread some of it on her hands. She started to massage my thighs, her hands getting closer and closer, but not going where I wanted them. I tried to keep still, and she didn’t make me beg this time. Her fingers slipped in and she rested her full belly on me so she could kiss me, her fingers working their magic. I started moaning through her kisses and tried to reach between her thighs, but she slapped my hand away. I put my hands in her hair, while she kept turning circles, her thumb rubbing. I started coming when I felt a kick against my stomach. I bucked my hips upward, but Wanda was just too heavy, I was pinned. I don’t know if I pulled her hair, she didn’t complain. When I pushed down and clenched around her, grabbing her fingers so she could barely move them, she didn’t complain either. I’m fairly sure I made quite a lot of small noises, that she captured in her mouth. Just after it became too much, she relented and pulled her fingers out, combing them through my pubic hair. She rolled down beside me, her head on my arm, my hand still in her hair. We were both panting a little. With an impish smile she played around some more, pulling and stroking, but when her hand started to go down again I slapped it away, I was done for the day. While I was staring at the ceiling I felt another kick in my side.

“Your baby is quite the kicker.”

“Not my baby, silly! Ours.”

I wonder if her hair will waive like her mother’s when she grows up. She’s a real sleeping beauty, my daughter. I walk away from the crib to our bed and lie down beside Wanda. “Why did you do it?” I ask her.

She looks at me in confusion. “Why did I do what?”

“Sleep with those guys.”

“Oh that. Well. You know I’m not religious.”

I smile. “A bit of an understatement, that.”

She pokes me in the side. “Don’t tease! So, not being able to pull a Mary, I thought of other ways to get pregnant.”

“There are always midichlorians,” I quip.

“Stop interrupting! When I saw those two men in the pub, they were quite smart, and attractive, I thought they would make good DNA donors. I got some beermats and started calculating the chance that if I went to bed with them, I would get the perfect baby. I couldn’t believe it when I saw that it was actually a one in a million chance. Exactly.”


“Well, not in the mathematical sense, but I figured that the fourth digit didn’t really matter, so I might as well start worshipping the Lady.”

“What Lady?” I ask, now totally bewildered.

“Pratchett’s of course! The goddess! Don’t you remember? If the chance of something happening is exactly a million to one, it has to happen.”

I start laughing uncontrollably. She frowns at me and huffs: “Well it worked! We have the perfect daughter, and you know it!”.

After a few hiccups, I’m calm again. She looks lovely when she’s affronted and I move in to kiss her. “Yes that we do,” I tell her while I let her catch her breath. She puts her arms around me and I move my mouth to her breast, while my hand slips between her legs. While she is distracted, I ask her, “It must have cost you some time to arrive at that mythic million to one chance.”

She moves her hips sensuously before she answers. “I am very good at probability theory. The probability of you making me come now is almost one.”

I smile as I remove my fingers. “I’m afraid you just collapsed that wavefunction, dearest.” I lie down beside her, turn her on her side so we’re spooning and kiss her shoulder. Just as I’m falling asleep, I murmur, “Never tell me the odds.”

Author’s note: I would like to thank my beta, tacitus_3. Her input was much appreciated and has improved this story a lot.

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