It’s Friday, and I’m taking the day off. Winnie’s last day of work for the Christmas break was yesterday, and I’m surprising her by spending the day together. Tomorrow is our baby shower, and her sister and our mothers will monopolize her time. Today she’s all mine. She just doesn’t know it yet. Chase is on call for the gym, and I’ve all but threatened Gina with her life not to call me. She’s to contact Chase, and if he needs me, he’ll call. Otherwise, it’s just me and my girls.
I’ve been awake since five, my usual wake up time. My body is on a routine, and I can’t seem to turn it off. I’m used to getting to the gym early for my workout before starting my day. It’s now just before seven, and I’m still lying here wide awake. I have work I could do until she wakes up, but she’s snuggled up next to me, and this bed is warm. Besides, no work today, or this weekend. I have to find a balance, and I feel like I need this time with her. Like we both need it.
We’re lying on our sides, face-to-face, the dim light of the morning peeking through the blinds. She’s peaceful and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’ve heard of the “pregnancy glow” but never thought much about it. I take that back. I thought people who claimed it was a real thing were a few fries short of a Happy Meal. That’s until my wife became pregnant. She really does have this… glow about her, and that’s the best way I can explain it. I never thought of pregnancy as a turn-on, but when it comes to Winnie, it’s exactly that. Her body is changing as our baby girl grows and it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen. To know a part of me is growing inside her… it’s a definite aphrodisiac.
Reaching out, I push her long silky strands out of her face, and her eyes flutter open. “Morning, beautiful,” I whisper.
“What time is it?” she asks, her long lashes fluttering against her cheeks.
“Around seven.”
Her eyes spring open. “Why aren’t you at work? Is something wrong?”
“No, baby.” I cup her face in the palm of my hand. “Today is our day. I wanted to spend the day with you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I know how busy you are.”
“That’s exactly why I want to do this. I know I don’t have to. I want to. I miss you. I feel like we’ve been distant the past couple of weeks.”
“Crazy time of year.”
She’s right; the holidays are always a busy time of year, but it’s more than that. I can feel it. “Yeah,” I agree, not wanting to dig too far into anything just yet. “What do you want to do today? Anything you want.” My hand that was cradling her cheek falls to her hip. I give it a gentle squeeze and then move in closer, aligning my body with hers. “It’s hard to believe that in just four short weeks, or maybe even sooner we get to meet her,” I say, moving my hand to gently rub over her belly. “How long do we have to wait to have another one?” I ask her. She’s sexy as fuck.
“Right,” she scoffs.
“Hey, what’s that about?” I ask.
She closes her eyes and expels a heavy breath. “Nothing, just tired.”
“You slept for over nine hours. What’s going on, Winnie?”
“You can’t be serious, Harrison. Look at me. I’m huge. My ankles are swollen, at least that’s what Gabby told me. I can’t see them. My boobs are swollen and tender. I waddle when I walk, and I’ve gained so much weight,” she says, looking up at the ceiling.
“Look at me.” I wait for her to pull her eyes from the ceiling. “Gwendolyn, look at me,” I say again. This time, she slowly focuses her gaze on me, and there are tears in her eyes. “I’m dead fucking serious.” My words are crisp and clear.
“Don’t cuss around the baby,” she scolds as a tear falls over her cheek.
“Then don’t say things that make me cuss. How could you think that I’m anything other than serious? I can’t keep my hands off you. As of a few weeks ago, you couldn’t keep your hands off me. What’s changed?”
“Nothing. I just— I don’t feel sexy.” She pulls the cover up to her neck.
“Nope,” I say, tugging it back down. “Let me show you.”
“Harrison, we should go have breakfast.”
“Oh, I intend to,” I assure her. I place a gentle kiss to her lips before sliding down the bed. “Open for me.” I tap her knee.
“Harrison, no. You don’t have to do this.”
I raise up on my knees so she can see me over her belly. “I want to do this, Winnie. It’s been weeks since I’ve tasted you. I won’t do anything you don’t want, but I know you want it just as bad as I do.”
“Maybe tonight,” she counters, reaching for the covers.
“No. Fuck that. I want you now.” I slide my hand up her thigh and don’t stop until I reach her pussy. With my index finger, I trace her slit over her panties. She’s soaking wet. “You want me,” I tell her. “Lift your hips, baby.”
“Harris—” Immediately she stops her protest when my fingers dip below her panties and push inside her.
“Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.” I gently pump my finger once, twice, three times before she lifts her hips. I make quick work of withdrawing, which causes her to whine. Grabbing either side of her panties, I pull them down her legs and toss them to the side. “Winnie,” I say, running my fingers through her folds.
“Hmm?”
“Hold on to the mattress.” I drop to my belly on the mattress and seal my mouth over her. She writhes underneath me, which fuels me on. I suck her clit into my mouth, tracing small circles with my tongue. Careful not to hurt her or the baby, I add one digit, then slowly as she draws closer to her orgasm, add another.
“Don’t stop,” she begs.
I don’t bother with a reply. Instead, I pump my fingers a little faster, and swirl her clit with my tongue. Her walls tighten around me, and I know she’s close. She gets tired easily these days, and I know getting another one out of her will exhaust her beyond measure. Pulling my fingers out, I climb to my knees. Wiping my mouth with the back of my arm, I align my throbbing cock at her entrance and push inside.
“Oh my God,” she moans.
“I missed this,” I say between thrusts. If you would have told me six months ago that fucking my pregnant wife was an aphrodisiac, I would have laughed in your face. Staring down at her, her belly between us, I feel my orgasm start to build. “I’m close, baby,” I tell her, moving my hand between us and stroking her clit.
Her head moves from side to side, and her grip on the sheets is solid. I feel the moment she lets go, her body squeezing the hell out of my cock. I try to hold on, but I can’t. With one final thrust, I release inside her. Pulse after pulse until I’m sated. I lie down next to her and pull her into my arms. I kiss the top of her head, and cradle one arm around her, the other resting on her belly.
“That is how we should start every day,” I tell her.
“Mmm,” she hums her agreement. I hold her, not wanting to let go, not wanting to lose this connection. Eventually, she looks up at me. “I need a shower.”
“Let’s get to it so I can feed my girls breakfast.”
“No, you go ahead. I’ll go next.”
“Why not together?” I pout. Even my voice sounds like a child who was just told they couldn’t go to a friend’s house. I’m not ready to let her out of my sight just yet.
“It’s a tight fit.”
“We’ll make it work.”
“No, really it’s fine. You go ahead.”
“Winnie, don’t make me carry you into the bathroom.”
“You can’t do that! I weigh too much.”
“What? Are you fucking kidding me right now? You weigh nothing. You’re all baby.” To prove my point, I climb out of bed and lift her into my arms.
“Harrison! Put me down. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“Stop.” My voice is hard. “Enough of that shit, you hear me?” I get a subtle nod. I continue carrying her into the bathroom and set her on the counter. “Don’t move,” I say, pointing at her. I rush to turn the wat
er on, then turn back to her. “Arms up.” She doesn’t fight me, but she’s hesitant before she finally lifts her arms and allows me to remove her nightshirt. I rake my eyes over her. “Do they hurt?” I ask, tenderly tracing the swell of her swollen breasts with my finger. Bending down, I softly place my lips on the H tattoo.
“Sometimes. They’re sensitive,” she confesses softly.
I lift them, one breast in each hand, testing their weight. I feel wetness on my hand. Pulling my eyes from her breasts, I see she’s blushing. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“For what?”
“That.” She nods toward my now wet hand.
“It’s natural, right? I mean, I read that this could happen. That’s how you’re going to feed and nurture our baby girl. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
“It’s sexy.”
“Right. Come on, Harrison, don’t play games with me. Not after all we’ve been through.”
“How am I playing games with you? I mean it. It’s sexy to me. You’re sexy to me.”
“The water’s going to get cold,” she says, gazing off toward the shower.