It's June again, and again I am melting. This promises to be an especially hot summer, the kind that makes me wonder if we should move to Alaska, where nobody knows us. I even mentioned this to Erik, but what's the point? All his friends are here, and so are mine. Neither of us is entirely ready to leave our old lives behind. That, of course, does not change the fact that this heat would be unbearable even in normal circumstances and, God almighty, these are not normal circumstances.
I enter the bathroom and carefully lower myself onto the toilet. The first of what I know are going to be many pit stops over the course of the day. Once I am done, it takes me a superhuman amount of effort to rise from my throne and head to the mirror. The reflection of a woman I hardly recognize salutes me.
Those wrinkles she used to fight with creams and pads have not exactly retreated, but they softened into something gentler. Her skin glows without the need for any implement. She looks positively exhausted, and yet, she smiles at me. All things considered, I am happy to see her.
"Morning, Mom," Erik comes along, kissing my neck. "Did you sleep well?"
"So and so!" I poke him. "Someone just won't let me sleep."
"Hey," he raises his hands in surrender and swag. "A man has needs."
"I was talking about your brother." I caress my round belly.
"Right." Erik kneels and kisses him, too. "How is he?"
"Heavy," I look like a planet. Like an especially busty Jupiter. "Can't wait for him to be out."
"Hey, there's no rush." Erik fondles my belly, much the same way he has been fondling my tits and my ass these past two years.
I try to keep it together. Seven months into this, and I'm swimming in hormones. My body reacts to Erik's touch as if I had been bitten by a swarm of horny mosquitoes. It's like an itch so intense it is almost painful.
"Easy for you to say," I hold in a moan. "I'm the one who has to carry him around twenty-four seven."
"Maybe I can help?"
He shifts his hands below his brother and raises him for me. The relief... by God, it is glorious! My whole body rejoices in respite; my ankles tell me I should kiss Erik. My pussy suggests I should fuck him instead.
"You are so fucking hot when you are pregnant," he says, fondling me harder. "I'm gonna miss this."
"Well, I won't." I lay my hand on his. "I look forward to having my body to myself again."
"Me too!" The rascal teases me. "Say, how long before you got pregnant again?"
"Jesus, Erik!" I mean to shout, but instead I chuckle. "We can't keep having babies because of your new fetish."
"Well, it's a fetish you gave me!" He goes on stimulating me all over. God, I'm gonna lose it. "Just look at that sexy line in the middle. What was it called again?"
"The linea nigra?"
"Right!" He chuckles like a horny teenager. "I swear to God, every time I see it I just..."
No, no, no -- Fuck!
"Woah! Not so loud," he says, snickering, and playing me like an extremely aroused fiddle.
"You asshole!" I moan. "You can't possibly want to do it again."
"Well, do you?"
I don't answer. I don't even have the patience to pull down my panties. I just hold on to the sink and raise my butt.
"Just do it quick," I order, with the same tone I used when telling him to tie his shoelaces. "Before your sister wakes up."
"Yes, ma'am!"
He pulls his trunks down, my panties aside, and impales my extremely gorged and extremely wet pussy onto his cock. I cum, like nothing. He kissed my cervix with his glans and -- boom. Fireworks.
"Mom, did you just--?"
"Yes!" I growl. "Don't stop!"
He doesn't. Instead, he fucks me with abandon. It won't take long for me to cum again.
"Fuck, Mom!" He huffs. "Your pussy feels so good while you are pregnant."
"Really? And when I'm not?" I tease him.
"Well, it's always amazing, just..."
"Yeah, yeah," I smirk. "Enjoy it while it lasts, young man. Because after your baby brother is born, I will tie up my tubes for good."
"Urgh, must you?" He picks up the pace. "I like putting babies in you."
"Yeah, that's great. Unfortunately, they also have to come out, which is less so."
"Yeah, fair enough." He chuckles. "Not to mention the diapers."
Speak of the devil, we hear crying.
"Oh... fuck," Erik says.
I echo him with a sigh. "Did you pull up the shutter?"
"I did..."
"Well, now you'll have to wait, mister."
I push myself up and undo my nursing bra, without really thinking about it. It is, to me, the most natural thing in the world. I have to feed my daughter. Unfortunately, my son, her father, is of a different mind.
"Don't even think about it," I scold him. "Go ready our breakfast while I give Julie hers. God willing, she'll fall back asleep some more."
Unfortunately, she does not. On the contrary, she suckles eagerly and energetically. The doctor recommended I keep breastfeeding her until she takes it. Your child will naturally know when it is time to stop, he said. Oh, if he only knew.
I bring Julie downstairs and let her loose in the living room. There she proceeds to dig out the xylophone from the pile of toys she neatly arranged the previous afternoon. She starts banging on it like a tiny drummer. For the next twenty minutes or so, she will entertain herself.
I go to the kitchen. Erik rushes to me and helps me sit down. He prepared all my favorites. Avocado toast, orange juice, scrambled eggs. Strangely enough, I would not mind a hamburger right now. I dig in and watch my other baby, the one that put the other two inside of me. He looks so grown up, so positively serene.
We get along well, despite all that has passed between us. We've had our quarrels, of course -- like every pair sharing a roof. Yet even our lowest moments led to quick reconciliation... and some awesome make-up sex.
Truth be told, Erik has been a formidable parent and a formidable husband. A shame he can be so in all but name. We discussed it abundantly, and thank God we are on the same page. Julie and her little brother would be my children and his siblings. We cannot let them -- or anyone else that the genealogical tree of these kids is missing a few branches. The guilt bites, of course. But it is our burden to carry, and the price we have to pay for love.
"She grew up so fast," he says, watching Jalie drumming the xylophone just beyond the door.
"So did you," I tease him.
"Come on, Mom. I'm being serious."
"So am I," I take a long, rumorous sip of juice. "To me, it feels like yesterday since you were climbing the sofas and restructuring them into improvised fortifications."
"I don't remember doing any of that."
"But you did. You took out all the cushions and built walls and towers to watch over the whole living room." I smile at him. "I missed this."
"What? Being a mom?"
"Yeah," I widen my smile. "And you? Do you regret being a dad?"
"Whaaa? Not for a second." He chuckles. "It's the hardest thing I've ever done, but... no. Zero regrets."
"Wait 'til they are fourteen." I snicker from behind my glass.
He stares at her while I stare at him. I know how he feels. She is already one year old; time does elude us. Maybe I ought to take him away from the future and remind him of the present. Normally, I would place my foot on his crotch and rub his cock with my toes. I became pretty good at that and made him cum at several restaurants. Unfortunately, I doubt I can raise my leg that much right now.
"Can you help me get behind the counter?" I ask.
He looks at me all puzzled, but helps me without asking questions. Once there, I have him help me down to my knees and tie up my hair.
"Are you going to--?"
"You think I forgot that you haven't cum yet?" I finish tying my hair and pull down his trunks. "We can't have you walking around the house like that. Your sister is growing."
"Yep," he chuckles. "This is gonna be more and more difficult."
"Indeed, but we have to make it work." I begin stroking his cock. "I also need my milk in the morning." I take him in my mouth.
I always enjoyed the taste of my son's cock, ever since I tried it for the first time, which happened on that same couch our daughter is currently climbing. But while pregnant, all my senses seem to go into overdrive. Just smelling him is enough to make my head spin, his taste makes me tingly, and his cum is more soothing than comfort food. Sure, he still loves cumming on my face, and my pregnant belly when available, and I do want to make him happy. Today, though, I want to taste and gulp down every last drop of him.
"Jesus, Mom!" He holds on to the counter, wary Julie might stop paying attention to her plush baby seal and turn to him. "You are too fucking good at this."
"Mmm... nothing beats mommy's blowjobs, does it?" I smile at him and kiss his frenulum.
"C-can you use your tits too?"
Oh, God. Will I ever be able to just enjoy some simple oral on my son ever again? He always liked my titties and was all too happy to have free access to them again. But ever since he got me pregnant the first time, he has become positively obsessed with them. Not only does he fondle me every time I happen to be in arm's reach, but he also developed a milk fetish. I suppose that is both a blessing and a curse, since I lactate as a friggin cow, and these things hurt like hell if they are not drained six times a day. Ever since Julie started to transition to solid food, she has been drinking from me somewhat less, and Erik has had to take a larger portion of my milk. He gets so hard when I breastfeed him. I always have to jerk him off when I do, otherwise it gets painful... or so he says.
"Mom?" He calls me back to the present.
"What? Oh, yes, hon. Sorry." I undo my nursing bra. God, I swear he loves this ugly thing more than the custom pregnancy lingerie I bought for Christmas. "Do you also want mommy to lube you up with some milk?"
"Do I?"
The lightest squeeze on my nipples is enough for me to release a couple of teaspoons of sugary, improvised lube. Not the ideal means to reduce friction, but what it lacks practically, it makes up for psychologically. When I press my motherly softness around my son's cock, he shoots a ripple of precum on my neck. Naughty boy! That belongs in my mouth.
"Can I hold them?" he asks, almost desperate.
"You can," I say. "But only if you promise to cum in my mouth."
"I want to cum on your tits and belly."
"You know the rules, young man," I remind him. "You get unlimited titfucks only on your birthday, which was four months ago. Now, hurry up, 'cause I'm hungry."
He gives up. "Okay, mom."
It takes him barely a couple of minutes of intense titfucking to get to the edge. God, his cock is so beautiful. I am tempted to just deepthroat him -- which I can now do with nearly no effort at all -- but I want to taste him. So, when he starts quivering, I envelop the head of his cock with my lips and suckle. Jesus Christ, the way my body tingles all over every time he is about to do this, I'll never get used to it. Here cums!
He gives me many delightful mouthfuls, and I greedily swallow all but one. Although he never told me out loud, I know how much he loves it when I show him how much of a cumslut his mommy is. Look, Erik. Look how much mommy loves you, look how much she loves your taste.
"You are so fucking beautiful," he says, almost in tears. Then, his eyes and thoughts run to the phone on the counter. "Can I...?"
I nod. He likes to collect pictures of my best displays of affection. By now, he must have a gallery rich with ten thousand or more pieces of evidence of how much of a degenerate I am. It's just as well. That (hopefully) tiny risk of getting discovered makes everything ever more titillating.
The doorbell rings. I swallow the last mouthful of my son's cum wide-eyed and panicky. I pull myself up and my bra down. Erik must assist me in both operations, which he does, snickering like the motherfucking rascal that he is. Whoever is on the other side of that door is determined. By the time I get myself into something decent, Julie is already making her way towards the door.
"Mindy! Mindy!" She says, all excited.
"She comes next Friday, darling." I pick her up and open. "Mom?"
"Hello!" My mother embraces me like she has not seen me in years. "My God, look at you! How are you? Everything going well? Does your back hurt? You shouldn't be standing. Why is Erik not answering the door?"
"She won't let me." Erik comes along. "She is stubborn."
"Ja, that she is. Good thing you have more sense than she. Come here and hug your granma, junger Mann."
Erik was always her favourite. It warms my heart to see the two of them hugging each other. I only hope she does not smell me on him.
"And where is my little Blümchen? Oh, look at you! You walk already. Oh, I missed your first steps!"
"Didn't I send you the video?" Erik asks.
"You did, you did, and I cry like a little girl every time I watch it." She half laughs, half cries. "It's like watching my Claire standing up for the first time all over again."
"Where's dad?" I ask, looking for him outside.
"I sent your father straight to the hotel with the luggage," she says, with a hint of sadistic satisfaction "Me, I couldn't wait to see my baby girl and toon an Über from the airport."
"It's spelt Uber, Mom," I remind her.
"Ne, es ist Über," she insists.
"It's an American company," I patriotically hold on.
"It's a German word," she concludes.
Julie reaches out for her grandma, not knowing she is about to be drowned in kisses. I let her go to her affectionate doom.
"Look at how she has grown. She eats well, ja?"
"She's got quite the appetite," says Erik. "She still gets her milk, though."
"Just like her mother." Mom caresses my cheek. "She took her milk until she was three, she did. You should have seen how -- Oh, Schatz, you got some mayo on the corner of your mouth."
I somehow manage to contain the ten simultaneous heart attacks I am having and step away from her.
"It's okay, I got it!" I very nearly shout, as I lick off the last rogue drops of my son's cum right in front of my own mother. Meanwhile, the perpetrator of this egregious crime is laughing his pretty ass off.
"So, Um... Why don't you come in?" I tell my confused parent. "You must be tired."
"You must be tired!" She tenderly rebukes me. "In fact, you should go lie down and let me take the kitchen over. Erik, would you be a dear and go get Oma a thing or two from the grocery store?"
Erik and I tremble. That most likely means enough food to feed an army. A pregnant army.
"Actually, gran-gran, why don't you let me cook for once?" My mother stares at Erik as if he just volunteered to deliver the baby himself, unorthodox and physically impossible.
"No more Computer Spielen, Erik?" She teases him.
"He knows what he's doing," I tell her, smiling at him. "He has pretty much done half of the cooking these last three months, and all of it since June.
"I can make a killer frittata," he claims, rightfully so.
My mother looks at him with a little skepticism, but also admiration.
"Na gut! Then I will kidnap this little bundle of joy and take her to the park." She tickles her granddaughter, making her squeal with laughter. "Would it be okay if we get back at noon?"
"Well," Erik tries to hold in his ear-to-ear grin. "That would be perfect."
I glare at him.
"Astrein," says his grandma, turning to me. "Do try to rest, my dear. You can't exhaust yourself like this."
Easier said than done. The cause of my exhaustion is already caressing my butt.
"I'll try," I lie, out of my teeth.
The moment the door closes, Erik and I race to each other and see who can kiss the sloppier. Somehow, possibly sheer adrenaline, he manages to raise me, the whole damn lot of me, and carry me to the bedroom.
"The house's a mess," I remind him as he peels off my improvised attire. "We need to at least try to tidy up a little."
"Then we should hurry the fuck up, don't you think?" He pulls off his own clothes like they were on fire, and for a moment, I lose the thread of my thoughts.
"You got half an hour, mister," I admonish him.
"Forty minutes max."
It's a short-lived promise.
There are many things Erik loves about me being pregnant: the roundness of my belly, a clear and growing reminder of his manliness and my love for him; my raging sex drive, I simply can never have enough of him; and last but not least, my utter inability to escape him. He is free to do with my body as he pleases, sparing me the considerable embarrassment of asking him to do so.
He kisses me, all over, licks me, nibbles on me. Damn it, Erik! Why do you want to tease me?
"Are you going to make me beg for it?" I ask, my pussy juices flowing in rivulets.
"On the contrary, Mom." He dives between my legs. "I want to worship you like the goddess you are."
I don't see anything divine in my body. There is nothing of me I would ever consider heavenly. Erik is of a different mind. His hands, his lips, his tongue, they know me so well, and bring me to a quasi-mystical ecstasy. He kisses me all over, sucks on my nipples to ease the pressure of my milk, licks my toes, my calves, my thighs, and finally my pussy. God, my labia must be all swollen and red. I don't know how he can like them, but he does. He adores them. And yet, there is something he appreciates even more.
"Can I rim you, Mom?"
"You want to lick me there?" I giggle. "That depends... Do you also want to fuck it?"
"If that's okay with you." He speaks with caution, but also dares to admit: "Last night it was fantastic. I want to do it again... if it's not too much.
It isn't. But I am not going to tell him. Not right away, that is. I turn around and raise my butt for him.
"Let's start with a nice rimjob and see where it goes."
We shouldn't be doing this. I mean, we could fill every library on the West Coast with the things we should not have done and still did. We shouldn't be doing this right now. Mom and Dad are coming to visit, and the house is a mess. I should be tidying up, instead I am lying down on my pregnancy cushion with my son giving me amazing anilingus.
To think that this same little rascal once said that anal looked kinda dirty. Look at him go now. He is making a three-course meal of my ass and loving every morcel. I can't help but bite my lip and moan every time his tongue goes about or over my anus, and when he goes deep... Was he always such a big perv, or did I make him this way? I suppose that's a silly question, since I am equally responsible for his genetics and his upbringing.
"You like licking Mommy's ass, hon?" I tease him.
"I fucking love it." I goes on with his worship.
"It's not dirty, is it?"
"Fuck no!" I apostrophate that by sticking his tongue inside of me, as deep as he can. "It tastes fantastic. It tastes of you."
I heard him say that before, so often in fact that he got me curious. I did it for him a couple of times, but I suspect he doesn't enjoy it nearly as much as I do. He doesn't particularly like having his prostate squeezed, which is a real shame. My fantasy of pegging my beautiful boy will have to remain such. For now, at least.
"Are you ready to make love to it, hon?" I ask.
"Ready, able, and very, very willing." He slaps his cocks on my hole.
"What are you waiting for, then?" I spread myself for him. "Get in."
At last, my ass is again full of my son's cock. I take all of him without resistance, balls deep. God, I feel ashamed of how much I was aching for this. Having sex around Julie has become more and more complicated as she gains in awareness and mobility. I dread to think what this will be like when she is eight. Hell, what about when she will be eighteen? Hopefully, by then Erik will have calmed down. A little? Maybe? God, his balls feel so good when they slap on my pussy. I'm already not that far away from cumming. What is wrong with me? Two years ago, I didn't even think I could cum with my ass. Look at me now.
About six months into my pregnancy, vaginal sex started to feel... I don't know, weird. At the same time, anal became so much easier. Dare I say, as of now, I feel more comfortable taking my son's considerable cock in my ass than my vagina. He doesn't seem to mind, though.
"Fuck, Mom." He is basically crying. "Your ass feels so good, I feel like I'm dying."
"Yeah, very touching. Now do it harder!"
"Are you sure this doesn't bother you?" The only thing that bothers me is these tits slapping on my chest every time I go back and forth. They fucking hurt! "I mean, shouldn't we use at least a little lube? "
"Erik, I'm as wet as Niagara and so high with hormones I could have anal with a train. Do. It. Harder!"
"If you insist," he snickers.
He begins riding my ass as it ought to be: unsuddled, unbridled, and at full speed. I don't feel even a hint of pain, only pleasure, only the joy of absolute connection and deepest intimacy.
A few minutes of this is all it takes for me to squirt all over his ballsack. I scream, freely and cathartically. Something I simply couldn't do last night since Julie was a couple of inches away from me.
He slows down, which I don't want him to do right now.
"Did you just--?"
"Don't stop!"
He is dragging this out, greedy little piglet. If he thinks I'm gonna let him, he's got another thing cumming. The next time he bases inside me, I clasp my buttcheeks together.
"F-fuck!" he yelps. "I wasn't ready for that."
"You were not ready for mommy to milk your cock with her ass?"
"I mean, I expected it, but--"
"I don't like to be kept waiting," I remind him, again. "Also, time is kinda of the essence. So fill up my ass so we can get to work."
"D-do I even have a choice?" He picks up the pace. And no, he doesn't.
Over the course of these two years, I have learned how to give him the strongest orgasms. I let him sink inside of me when he pushes, clench, and keep the pressure up until he has pulled nearly all the way back -- rence and repeat. When he starts cumming, I take his hand and tell him to keep moving back and forth until every last drop of cum is out of his balls and inside my ass. I must say, having my ass filled feels even better than my pussy. I can feel every rope shooting on the walls of my intestines, and after he has done cumming his share, the sensation of warmth and slickness lasts much longer. I can never have enough of this.
"Shit, Mom. That was fucking intense."
"Must you always be so vulgar?"
"Not always but..." He washes the sweat off his brow. "I don't think saying just intense, or even very intense, would cut it."
"How about remarkably intense?"
He laughs.
"You are so remarkably beautiful." He helps on the side, and we spoon. "So remarkably hot. I so remarkably love you!"
"All right, all right. You made your point." I let out a surrendering chuckle. "Now, fifteen minutes of cuddling, then off to work. Okay?"
"Okay, Mom." A weak promise. "Can I get some milk?"
"Again?"
"I came a lot," he chuckles. "I could use a little pick-me-up."
I hesitate. Not because I don't want to. On the contrary, I can always use some release on the pressure that is constantly building up in these dairies that the good Lord decided to attach to my chest. My one concern is that more milk will reinvigorate him too much, and then we will waste even more time. Oh no, don't squeeze me like that, Erik. Mmm, maybe if I give him just a little?
At noon, my parents walk in. I hope that having them find the table already set and Erik's frittata still steamy will distract them from how much of a mess the house is. It doesn't, and I'll never hear the end of it.
"Can't you hire one of 'em Mexican girls to give you a hand with this mess?" asks my dad.
"Richard, we discussed this already," my mother says, and I bet they have.
"I'm just sayin', there's plenty of 'em folks around here. Hard workers all. And there is plenty of work to be had."
"That's kinda my fault," Erik interjects, winking at me. "I promised to help Mom with the laundry, and the floors, and so many other things. I kinda got carried away with... other stuff."
I scold him with what has basically become a sign language between the two of us. He enjoys saying things he shouldn't say nearly as much as doing things he shouldn't do.
"Ain't your job to tidy up the house, son," my dear father jokes. Half jokes. "You should be out there, enjoying life. You are young, for Pete's sake."
"Oh, believe me, grandpa. I enjoy it quite a l-- Ouch!"
"Oops, sorry," I glare at Erik.
"He's right, though," my mother intrudes. "What happened with your girlfriend?"
"Mindy?" Erik asks, amused at his grandmother's puzzlement. "We haven't been going out for years. We're still buds, though. She babysits Julie every two Fridays."
"Ne, ne, ne, the other one," Mom goes on, and I interrogate Erik in our silent language. "I remember it was right before your little sister was born. You told me you had this girlfriend you were madly in love with. It was all romantisch and mysterious. I really hoped you would introduce her to us this year."
"Oh, her!" Erik must rein in his laugh, just like I must rein in my panic. "I don't know how to put it. There was a big age gap."
"Oh, Liebling." Mom smiles, and only now do I see it. It's the same smile as Erik's. It skipped a generation, apparently. "Love conquers all. What is a few years of difference? Or decades?"
They laugh together with a complicity I cannot help but feel jealous of.
"It wasn't just that, Oma Trudy," Erik says. "I just... couldn't be with her the way she wanted me to. You know?"
I don't think Mother knows. My father doesn't know either. Though that was never a reason for him to stay silent.
"Son, you are not one of 'em -- Wha'cha call 'em? Asexuels?"
Beneath his admirable poker face, Erik is just about to explode. He covers his mouth, simulating uneasiness, and concealing a smile that I know is as wide as his face.
"Richard!" My mother scolds her spouse.
"It's okay, grandma." Slowly and unsure, Erik regains his composure. "I don't wanna put labels on anything but... I think grandpa might be right."
"Waaa?" My mother looks beyond astonished.
"Mom, please behave." I defend my son's sexual orientation.
"I didn't say anything." She returns to her dish, only to mutter to herself. "Nu, dit kann ja nich' von meiner Seite de Familie sein."
Erik keeps snickering whenever he thinks nobody but me is watching him. I need to get him away from the table, even for just a few seconds.
"Oopsie!" I spilt all my orange juice.
"I'll get it." Erik runs to get a rag and does not let the occasion to lean into me go to waste.
"How are you doing, financially?" Dad asks, earning another glare from his wife.
"I'd say we are doing quite well," I return to him and her. "Thanks to Julia, I can work from home no problem. We are still small, but growing fast."
"That's my girl," Mom says. "And what about you, mein Junge?
"Oh, we are drowning in work." Erik chuckles. "They got robots writing scripts and animating movies in Hollywood, but they get them to can't change a lightbulb to save their lives." Mom chuckles along.
"Are you ever moving out?" My father inquires, then hastily adds. "Don't get me wrong, you are being a real champ staying close to your mom in her moment of need. Just don't forget to live your life."
"You're right, gramps. It's just..." Erik looks at Julie. "I want to see my little sister grow, at least a bit. My little brother, too." He caresses my belly, and my treacherous hormones almost make me cry.
"Mmm... my dream of having great grandkids is not getting any closer."
"Hey, you got Julie and another grandson on the way." Jesus, Erik! "That's almost as good, right?"
"Tja, mehr oder weniger." Mom smiles.
We spend the rest of the day together. Mom and Dad play with Julie as much as they can, giving Erik time to tidy up a little and me a moment for respite and showering. As I let the water pour on me, I feel a sense of elation. Everything is -- against all odds -- working. Nobody suspects anything, despite me being careless and Erik being reckless. When we went to visit my parents last Christmas, Erik and I had to sleep in separate rooms, obviously. That didn't stop him. That barely slowed him down. Good thing grandpa Richard and Oma Trudy are getting hard of hearing.
The door opens. Here he comes. Erik enters the shower and gets a hold of the huge tits he likes so much.
"Quick refill before dinner?" I ask him, turning around.
"Uh-huh." He smiles, seraphic.
"All yours, baby." I offer him my already leaking breasts.
He gets his fill, then gives me mine.
After dinner, we say goodbye to Mom and Dad. Even though they are staying here the whole weekend, they still act as if they are going back to the airport tomorrow.
"You take care, guys," my Dad says. "And please, at least consider getting help. A nice Latina girl around could do you both a world of good."
"Richard!"
"What? This guy knows what I'm talking about." He winks at his grandson.
"Mmm." Erik gives me a conspiratorial look. "I suppose nobody is that asexual."
He makes my dad chuckle.
"You are being gross, both of you," Mom accuses, and I agree.
"Well, you married me. What does that say about you?"
They exchange a quick kiss before getting into the car.
Erik and I go back in. Erik gets Julie into her pajama, and I give her one last feed before bed. Erik sings a lullaby for her, and she falls asleep in her brother's arms. Her father's arms.
We put her down and linger. She is beautiful. She is perfect. I can only hope her brother will be good to us half as much as his sister was. I hope they get along... but not too much! I chase away the ludicrous thought.
It's time for me and Erik to get to bed as well. Despite having done little or nothing the whole day, I am undone. Alas, there is no way my randy stallion will let me sleep before having had his special good night kiss.
I don't fight him, I don't resist him. Whatever guilt still lingers is barely a whisper in the back of my mind, less than a feather on my conscience. I let him love me as much as he wants, and let myself love him as much as I can.
"Ready to fuck your Mom again?" I ask, with sweet voice and dirty words.
"Ready and extremely willing." He explores my body with his hands, always with the same eagerness.
"Wouldn't you prefer a big ass Latina maid?" I poke him.
"I got all the ass I need right here." He sinks his fingers between my buttcheeks, prodding my shamefully tender hole. "Unless you are proposing a threesome, in which case I'm totally game."
A threesome? I'm not hating the idea as much as I ought to. Sharing Erik with anyone else? And risk losing him? That I could never accept. Then again, having two big girls sitting on his cock and his face... that would drive him nuts. That I would not mind seeing.
"Isn't Mommy horny enough for you?" I tease him further.
"My mommy is a dream come true." He keeps kissing me. "I'll fuck her forever."
"Good boy." I let my panties fall and get ready for him. "Come, let Mommy's ass milk your cock."
"Um... Mom, would you mind if I... fucked your pussy first?"
"My pussy?" That's a surprise. He never said no to anal after trying it the first time.
"Yeah. I... I want to love all of you. Like, every hole."
My hole is already answering the call, I'd say.
Getting me ready takes some logistics. My belly has become too big for missionary, and even two pillows under the base of my back are not enough to raise my butt to the right level. We need to get a cushion from the living. I just hope it won't reek in the morning.
At last, my pussy is aligned with Erik's without my belly suffocating me. I lay my ankles on his shoulders, and he begins penetrating me. He gives me sweet, delicate thrusts as he kisses my feet.
"You are so beautiful," he keeps telling me. "You are so remarkably beautiful."
"You can say fuck, dear," I tell him. "Tell me whatever you want. Do me whatever you want. I'm yours."
He slowly picks up the pace and rocks me sweetly along with his little brother, our son. He knows exactly what to do to make his mommy cum, and I can already feel my orgasm building up. It's gonna be a strong one.
"I am so gonna miss this," he says.
"What, honey?"
"Fucking you with a big belly," he thrusts harder. "You are as beautiful as a goddess."
I giggle. "Remember the first time you had baby-making sex with Mommy?"
"Fuck yeah, I do," he pants. "Strongest orgasm I ever had."
"Me too, dear. Me too."
He makes me cum, and perhaps he cums himself a little, holding back his full orgasm so that he can keep fucking me some more. He is so handsome, caring, and kind. He truly earned the right to fuck his momma. She loves him so much. And she would do anything for him. Anything.
"Erik, I've been thinking."
"About what?"
"About tying the tubes and all." He flinches at the unpleasant memory. "I never asked you if you were okay with that."
"I'm behind you one hundred per cent," he says without hesitation. "If this is what you want."
"Thank you, dear." I reach for his face, and he leans in for the caress. "But what about you? What do you want?"
"Me?" He shakes his sweaty brow. "I want you to be happy."
I try, impossible as that may be, to get more of him inside of me.
"Then... maybe I shouldn't do it," I whisper.
"What?"
"We should keep having baby-making sex."
"You want more babies?" He asks, almost in panic.
"Yes, dear," I pull him harder and close my calves around him. "I'll have every baby you put inside of me."
He cums. He explodes. He floods the bed, the room, the whole fucking block, or so it feels like for the whole minute and a half that his orgasm lasts.
He falls next to me. Poor thing, he must be nearly dehydrated.
"Erik, are you okay?" I chortle.
"Mom, I'm..." He laughs. "I'm in fucking seventh heaven."
"You must be on the verge of dehydration after shooting... what? Half a gallon of cum inside your mother?"
"I do feel a little thirsty."
"Okay, let's rebalance your fluids, shall we?"
I pull both my tits out of my nursing bra. He suckles one, then the other, then both.
"Good boy, have as much as you want." I nurse him. "Once you are done, you go get a big glass of water with ice for your mom, then you fuck her ass again, then we go to sleep. Sounds good?"
"Sounds perfect, Mom."
"Good, now finish."
And so the night concludes. Another bouquet of forbidden fruits, another storm of messy love. I drift away in his arms, drenched in sweat, cum, and milk. I wish this could never end. It will, of course. But not yet. I'm not worried. I had my moments of doubt. Despair, even, but life has a way of surprising you.
Strange. Two years ago, I thought my life was over; that all my best years had simply evaporated; that I had nothing more to look forward to. And now? Well, now I feel like my best days are ahead of me, not behind.
So strange.