After I Broke My Ankle The Lion Got Me

I have been an avid jogged since high school. I've run three marathons and several half marathons. My running partner, Kaitlin, has been by my side for a long time. We are aware that the strenuous workout schedule, the diet, the supplements comes at the cost of sexual libido and menstrual health. We were aware that we weren't fertile. But who cares, right? Who wants children?

From the awakening of my sexual identity I've favored the other side, not men and women. This also comes at a price, family exclusion. So that's where we were, when I broke my ankle coming off a sidewalk. Not broken like needing surgery, but broken so I couldn't walk on it. And my grandmother died and my mother guilted me into attending the funeral, but not that girl. I asked a 'friend' to escort me, a work relationship. With benefits.

I was on crutches, that boot was horrid. He laughed at me and told me I was lion good. Lions hunt hurt prey, like me. I couldn't outrun him. He grabbed me from behind and lifted me. Your the lion's meal. I didn't like being held and immobilized. I was unable to break his grip. He asked me if I was baby prone. I told him to go to hell, as I got bent at the waist, my bottom stocking out. In all my life I had never been spanked, until that say. A hand slap on my bear ass. I fought because I did, but it was useless.

In a fraction of the time it takes to write this, I was run through and his seed within me. I shook him off, I was sure I wasn't fertile, but nature has its way and I found myself pregnant. The funeral was hard on me, recently taken, my grandmother was my friend growing up.

The lion was fed and he took the word escort a bit too seriously. One day I intend to outrun him, but for now it's more about feeding the lion and his lion cub in me. I'm taking a break, still running but not as intently. This feeling is refocusing my priorities. Who wants children? Well I do, now that I'm pregnant.