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Oliver

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Oliver

The shrill cry of a newborn baby rouses her from a deep, deep sleep. In the fogginess of exhaustion it takes her a few seconds to grasp her current reality. That’s her baby. She’s at home in her own bed and that’s her newborn baby. Right. OK. Got it. Brain you must engage active mothering skills.

She moves to sit up and groans. She forgot this part. She forgot the part where everything hurts for at least two weeks after you have a baby. This is only day three. She’s in the thick of it. Fuck. Giving birth is hard work. And after you give birth is hard work too. Nobody really tells you that part.

Her stomach and back muscles still ache from the strain of pushing, her neck aches from the unfamiliarity of looking down towards her chest for half the day, and her lady parts ache from being stretched beyond bloody recognition. It’s that terrifying stretch and the addition of four tiny stitches in her vagina that feel like seventy five large knives stabbing her every time she sits down or walks in a certain way. It is a literal pain in the ass when you spend over half the day either sitting down to feed or cuddle a needy, tiny human being who is adjusting to a bright, cold new world.

And then there’s her boobs. Which immediately draw her attention as she feels the wet, sticky substance she’s laying across. Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck. Day three. Her milk has come in with a vengeance. And she must have forgotten to put on a comfy nursing bra and nursing
pads after the last feed. She pats her breasts, they’re rock hard and her shirt is cold and wet. Holy fuckballs. Yep, her milk has definitely come in.

The brain fogginess is slowly clearing now but it is still taking her twice as long to grasp her immediate situation. She dislikes this part of early motherhood, it makes her feel unsteady and out of control. She finally makes the connection between her boobs and her crying baby. Although her body is one step ahead of her mind. Her right breast starts a familiar tingle. Shit, shit, shit. She’s about to have a let down. She looks to her bedside table to find a burping cloth and grabs it, shoving it under her shirt to her nipple as the let down crescendos and the slow leak of milk increases to a furious gush. Everything is happening faster than she can process. Her brain continues to register a needy, crying baby and her left breast goes out in sympathy too, it lets down and suddenly there is milk gushing from her left nipple as well. The front of her already milk stained pyjama top is unable to soak up the liquid. She feels milk running down her rib cage, settling at the waist band of her pyjama pants. Ugh, fucking wonderful.

Just as she’s ripping off her top, bundling it up to use it as a rag to soak up the milk escaping her left breast Scott walks in with a screaming Oliver. Her eyes meet his and she bursts into tears.

She can see him surveying the scene before him. Topless wife with two balled up pieces of fabric pushed against her swollen boobs. A tear stained face looking at him. And tired, sad eyes that are flashing ‘help me, help me’ while she sits in a circle of milk-stained pillows and bed sheets.

‘Oh, Sweetheart’, he says with a sympathetic smile. ‘Day three, eh? Milk and tears?’

She nods.

‘Its OK, all to be expected, we know the drill’. He gives a resigned shrug. ‘I’ve just changed Oli. He’s set for a feed. Why don’t you jump up and change your clothes, then use this chair’, he nods to the arm chair on his left, ‘to feed him and I’ll change the bed linen?’

There’s a lot of ‘changes’ in those sentences he’s just spoken. Which is a reflection of their current life. A big change. This is her third baby but it’s still overwhelming.

And oh my God, she loves Scott when he goes into fix-it mode and does the thinking for her. She does not have the cognitive or emotional skills to deal with this shit right now. She slowly and gingerly inches her way to the side of the bed. Her stomach muscles still not up to full strength and her lady parts making her wince.

‘Give me you arm’, he says gently, moving to the bed and stroking her upper arm before firmly grabbing her bicep and lifting her upwards.

‘Thanks’ she sighs, turning to survey the bed. It’s not as bad as she expected but it definitely needs to be swapped for fresh sheets. She doesn’t think the milk made its way to the mattress. She unhurriedly makes her way to the wardrobe, despite Oliver’s demand to be fed immediately. Scott is unfazed by the crying, simply bouncing up and down on the spot in an attempt to settle the baby. Seeing her husband with a tiny baby makes her heart sing. There is something so primal about seeing your co-parent with your infant. A delicious wave of happiness bubbles up through her entire body.

Then she is brought back to reality with thunderous thump.

‘Tess, you might wanna take a quick shower ‘ he encourages.

‘Huh?’ she queries, ‘I don’t think he’s gonna wanna wait that long’. It’s an odd suggestion given the ferocity of Oliver’s cries.

‘You’ve got a blood stain on the back of your pyjama pants’, he explains and pouts at her.

Her eyes immediately flick back to the bed.

‘The bed is fine, Sweetheart. It’s just your pants’, he assures.

‘Motherfucking shitballs, I hate my life right now’ she jokes. ‘I dislike it when my body is such a hot mess. Having a baby is so fucking unglamorous, right?’ she asks.

‘It definitely seems less messy in the movies’, he laughs ‘but it does have its upsides’. He nods his head down towards Oliver, who is nestled into his chest. The ferocious cries have died to a strong whimper. Scott bestows a tiny kiss to Oliver’s gorgeous little head.

She smiles at them, her heart full to bursting with the love she has for them both.

‘I love my men. All four of them,’ she says with teary eyes.

He crosses the room to wrap his free arm around her waist. She kisses him softly on the mouth, then rubs her nose on Oliver’s downy head before kissing the back of his head once, twice, three times. She looks up and locks eyes with her husband. She silently tells him how happy she is that their third son is safely at home with them. His eyes tell her he that he agrees.

‘We love you too, Mommy. Now, a shower for you, then clean PJs. I’ll grab you a bra and the nursing pads and put them on the bathroom counter. I’m assuming we’ve moved into the non-negotiable need for nursing pads stage?’

She screws up her nose and nods.

‘Once you’re finished I’ll make you some toast. How’s you lady garden going? Do you need some more ibuprofen? You want me to bring you a couple while you shower?’ he asks.

‘Oh my God, yes please’, she nods furiously this time.

She laughs.

‘When we first got together did you ever envisage three kids, a milk stained bed and regular discussions about my decimated vagina?’ she asks.

She can see him considering his response.

‘Nope, in 2016 I didn’t imagine the day to day specifics of our life together. Not one bit. My mind was mostly on all that incredible sex but never what it could lead to. Plus, I think I was so focused on Pyeongchang that I didn’t really contemplate life post-Olympics, not until after we got there. But I can tell you that this life has exceeded my wildest dreams. And it’s the domestic intimacies that make it wonderful. The scrappy, messy parts of our lives are the best ones, when it’s just us, and our boys, together. Everything that happens in this house, the personal details, the happy and sad parts, it’s what makes me feel most content. That, and talking about your poor, old post-birth vajayjay. Which, I promise you, will recover to it’s full glory, just like it did last time, I have no doubt’ he suggestively wiggles his eyebrows.

He leans forward to her kiss cheek.

‘Go shower. Oli and I are perfectly fine. Take as long as you need’ he gives a confident, persuading nod.

With that she moves to the bathroom.

As she reaches across to turn on the shower she can hear Scott start an animated conversation with their three day old son about the Leaf’s chances of winning their next game.

This is a good life.

*

Breastfeeding is hard work.

It’s especially hard work in that first week when your breasts are engorged with milk and it’s difficult for inexperienced little lips to properly grab a mouthful of firm, slippery nipple.

She knows Oliver is hungry and very frustrated right now because she keeps popping her little finger into to his mouth to stop him sucking so she can remove him from her breast in an attempt to properly attach him. She also knows from feeding Tom and Jamie that if they don’t get this right it’ll be a literal shitshow of cracked, bleeding nipples and her curled toes every feed.

She’s not having that again.

‘Oh Baby, I know it’s frustrating. It’s frustrating for Mommy too. You gotta help me out here Kiddo, open your cute little mouth and take a big mouthful of nipple, you can’t just hang off the end there. That’s not gonna work for either of us’ she placates.

She repositions Oli up a bit higher in the crook of her arm and swirls her nipple around the outside of his lips so he opens his mouth wide trying to follow the milk. Then she teases his bottom lip by rubbing her finger over his chin. As he opens his mouth wide she brings his head quickly to her breast and he takes a huge mouthful of nipple.

Success.

He sucks firmly on her breast with her nipple snuggly at the back of his throat. She can see him gulping furiously, then swallowing greedily, milk slowly leaking out the sides of his tiny mouth. It isn’t painful for her and he is sated. Her solace is immense.

‘Christ on a carousel, that feels so much better. You’re such a clever, little lad’ she coos. ‘We just gotta do it like this every time. We’ll get the hang of it together’, she promises running her finger down his nose.

Despite the aches and feeding challenges this newborn stage is magical. Getting to know this perfect, still sleepy little life that she and Scott created together. She’d had a miscarriage earlier in the year so it’s fair to say that Oliver has been their most yearned for baby. Tommy was a happy accident and with Jamie they fell pregnant on their first attempt.

She’s stroking her new baby’s soft head, while he continues to feed, when James comes bounding into the bedroom with a truck in his hand.

‘Hi Mommy’ he says.

‘Hey Baby’ she smiles ‘Is that the new truck that Daddy bought you?’

‘Yep, it goes really, really fast’, he makes a zooming motion with his hand. ‘Do you want to play trucks and my car mat with me?’

‘I would love to do that, Kiddo but I’m feeding Oliver and he takes a long time to have his breakfast. What about you ask Daddy?’ she suggests.

‘Daddy’s sleeping’, states James.

She straightens. That’s odd. She can hear someone clattering about cleaning the kitchen. Please don’t let it be Thomas, he’s a great helper, but at six years old he’s not yet up to cleaning the kitchen by himself.

‘Who’s cleaning the kitchen?’ she tentatively asks.

‘Nanna’ James responds.

Phew. Great answer. Although surprising, she didn’t realise Alma was here.

‘Baby, can you please ask Nanna to come up and see me’. James nods in affirmation and she hears him run downstairs.

Alma appears in the doorway a few minutes later.

‘Hey Tessie, how’s it all going?’ her mother-in-law smiles and soothingly rubs her on her shoulder as she walks past to sit on the bed.

‘It’s improving, I think Oli and I are slowly getting better at feeding. He’s finally got the attachment right, that trick you gave me about gently tapping his chin was a winner’, she gives Alma a tired but genuine smile.

‘I’m glad, I’m glad. Welcome to the world of feeding three hungry Moir boys. Well, four if you count their father’, she jokes as she grabs the clean linen from the dresser and starts remaking the bed.

‘Jamie said Scott’s asleep downstairs. He OK?’ she asks. He’s always a great helper during the newborn stage, up in the night, doing all the heavy lifting by looking after the older boys. He deserves to catch up on his sleep.

‘Yeah Honey, he’s fine. We were talking about some rink business and when I looked up he’d fallen asleep on the couch. I figured it best to let him catch a little shuteye’ Alma expertly makes the end of the bed with crisp hospital corners, just the way Scott does.

‘You wanna cuddle Oli?’ she asks Alma as she removes Oliver from her breast and sits him on her lap, rubbing his tiny back. He lets out a huge belch from his teeny mouth. The women look at each other and cackle. ‘He’s such a Moir’ she says rolling her eyes at Alma.

‘Of course I want a cuddle. I always want a cuddle. I’ve got the other two watching Toy Story downstairs. Why don’t I take Oliver and join them. I’ll send Scotty up here and you guys can grab some sleep’.

She watches Alma take Oliver and snuggle him against her chest. He lets out a bewitching little snuffle and her heart expands a thousand times with love for her newest son.

‘Oh Alma, that would be amazing, I will not say no to that. I love you immensely’ she sings.

‘Love you too, Tessie’.

*

This time she wakes to Scott’s chest against her back and his right arm wrapped around her waist. It feels normal and safe. She can feel his nose pressed between her shoulder blades. He’s breathing in slow, even breaths. Dead to the world. If it wasn’t for her aching body she could almost forget she’d just had a baby. She’s tempted to close her eyes and let her exhaustion pull her back under. Instead she puts her hand to her breasts. Ouch, they’re full and tender. Fuck. How long has she been asleep?

She doesn’t even remember falling asleep but at least she is wearing a breastfeeding singlet and nursing pads this time. She doesn’t remember getting changed into these clothes either. The nursing pads are soaked, but the bed is dry. Thank fuck. She couldn’t face changing the linen again.

She disengages herself from Scott’s embrace and ungracefully edges off the bed. By the time she emerges from the bathroom Alma is at their bedroom door with a fussy Oliver.

‘Sorry Tess, I held him off as long as I could’ Alma’s says with an apologetic smile.

‘Don’t apologise, it’s fine. What time is it? How long have I been asleep? Are Tom and Jamie being well behaved?’ she takes the baby from Alma, kisses his cheek then climbs into the armchair with one leg resting underneath her. She’s not sure why but it hurts less to sit this way. Probably less pressure on the stitches.

‘The boys have been angels, just playing quietly or watching a movie. We moved on to Toy Story 2. Oliver settled into his crib like a champ so I was able to put him down and make Tom and Jamie some lunch. Oliver slept for almost three hours, and so did you. I suspect he’s woken up starving’.

Alma sits on the end of the bed, crosses her legs and props her elbow on her knee so she can rest her chin on her hand while they talk.

She loves that about Alma, loves that she has a soft, clever way of making observations about her grandchildren, rather than being instructive and bossy. She’s warm and encouraging, just like Scott. She thinks that’s why Scott has such emotional intelligence, he has a great Mom.

She agrees that Oli is hungry, she’s hardly got her boob out and he’s rooting around, shaking his little head, nuzzling and searching for his lunch. She brings his head to her her breast and he immediately opens his mouth wide and turns his head, clamping down on a huge mouthful of breast. Bingo! The attachment feels perfect and the relief in her breast as Oli starts draining the milk is heavenly.

She locks eyes with Alma and they simultaneously raise their eyebrows. ‘Good job Mommy and Oliver’, Alma congratulates.

‘I think we’re turning the corner with the attachment. Thank fuck!’ she sighs.

Alma bursts out laughing.

‘The relief is real Alma!’ she laughs along too.

‘I know Honey, I know. It was more than thirty years ago for me but I remember it well’ she keeps laughing.

They both look across the room to Scott, still out for the count, unawares of what’s is going on around him.

‘I remember that too’ Alma says nodding towards a sleeping Scott and they keep laughing, ‘enjoy it while you can Scotty-boy!’

*

She manages to finish feeding Oli, settle him back to sleep, see Alma off and give her big boys an early bath before Scott wakes.

He finally stumbles down the stairs about 4pm. She’s cross legged on the loungeroom floor, engaged in a serious battle of UNO with Tom and James, all while simultaneously feeding Oli.

‘Hello family’ he calls to them.

‘Daddy’ the boys chorus, jumping up to greet him, UNO game forgotten. He scopes them up, one each arm, and nuzzles their necks.

‘Mommy, look at you! I wished you’d woken me. I can’t believe you let me sleep for six hours’, he chastises.

The boys run upstairs to play in Tom’s room.

‘Hello, my love. It’s all good,’ she smiles. ‘Seventy-two hours in and I’m nailing this mother of three shit. I had a great sleep too, your Mom hasn’t long left and the best part is Oli and I have started to find our feeding groove’.

He raises his eyebrows and looks surprised.

‘Well, look at you, you smug so and so. Perhaps now is the time I break your heart and tell you I’m returning to competitive skating, this time as a pairs skater with Meagan Duhamel’.

She chortles, ‘I’d actually pay money to see that. Mostly because Meagan would eat you alive’.

‘The fuck she would!’ he says mock offended.

‘No one else would laugh at your corny jokes or put up with your on ice caresses. Only I have the moral fortitude to put up with that bullshit. Plus Canada would be heartbroken. Better that you stay here with me and your super cute kids. Besides, even joking about you skating with someone else gives me heart palpitations’ she confesses.

She signals him to take Oliver from her so she can get up off the floor.

‘Oh, five minutes ago you were superwoman and now you’re stuck on the floor, eh?’ he teases.

‘My situation is dire, Moir. I didn’t really think this through when I clambered onto the floor with Oli. My stomach muscles are on holiday and the thought of using my pelvic floor muscles right now is abhorrent. I’m at your mercy, please pick me up off the floor’, she bats her eyelashes.

‘Tommy, can you cuddle Oli please while I help Mom?’ Scott calls out.

Thomas is down the stairs as fast as his little legs can carry him, pumped to be a helper for his Dad.

Scott sits Tom on the lounge, surrounded with cushions, and safely tucks Oli into his arms.

Then he turns to her, ‘How shall we do this? Bridal style?’

She shakes her head quickly, ‘Nope, I’m worried that will stretch me out in all the wrong places. Can you just lift me under the arms? I can use my legs once they’re unfurled’.

‘Sure can’, he responds.

Once she’s standing he wraps his arms around her waist and breathes into her neck. He places sweet, chaste kisses up her neck, across her jaw and ends his kisses at her mouth.

‘I’m the luckiest bastard alive’ he smiles to her.

‘Dad! No swearing’ rebukes Tom.

Scott turns to Tom and pokes out his tongue.

*

At her six week post-birth check up both she and Oli get a glowing appraisal from Dr Moens.

‘He’s gorgeous Tessa, growing like a weed. You’re doing a great job. And your stitches have completely dissolved. It looks really good, no scar tissue I can see. How’s it feeling?’ Dr Moens gives one of her encouraging, warm smiles which makes Tessa want to share all her secrets.

‘It was pretty hard going those first couple of weeks but in this past week I’m starting to feel right back to my old self’ she responds.

Dr Moens is a straight shooter and she loves that in a doctor.

‘Have you engaged in any vaginally penetrative sex yet?’ Dr Moens ask as she types up a few notes.

‘Not yet, I thought we needed to wait six weeks. I’m a bit hesitant, to be honest. Engaging in some heavy duty kissing was making things very uncomfortable down there two weeks ago’ she says recalling the few times that she and Scott had made out in bed with wandering hands. They had to stop due to her feeling very sore.

‘That’s perfectly normal and to be expected. As you become aroused your pelvis becomes engorged with blood, naturally in your vaginal area. It’s the increased blood flow that makes it really uncomfortable if things are still swollen and stitches are still in place. Was it a tight, achy throbbing?’ Dr Moens enquires.

‘Yes’ she concedes.

‘That feeling dissipates as the swelling goes down and stitches heal. Have you had that feeling in the past week?’

‘We haven’t tried again in the past week’ she confesses.

‘Tess, I think you’ll be fine. Six weeks of no penetrative sex is a general rule but it might take a little longer to feel like everything is back to normal. But I’ve had a good look and there definitely isn’t any physical reason not to have sex. Psychologically, it can be a leap of faith that first time - just go slow, make sure you’re well lubricated and relax. Be confident that your body’s healed and you’re made for having babies. Come back and see me in about four weeks if it’s not working for you’ Dr Moens says warmly.

‘OK, that sounds great. I can do that’, she replies feeling self assured and positive.

‘Well, I’ll see you for baby number four!’ Dr Moens jokes.

‘Don’t hold your breathe!’ she laughs back.

*

When she gets home Scott is sprawled on the couch, a son in the crook of each arm, watching hockey on TV. The three of them look alike, all dark hair and dark eyes. They are stupidly cute and she wants to squish their faces.

‘Aha, the rest of our motley crew has returned! Does my girl bring me good news?’ he raises his eyebrows with a shit-eating grin on his face.

It makes her chuckle.

‘Indeed I do’, she responds as she plonks their chunky, smiley six week old into his father’s arm. ‘Some very good news for Mommy and Daddy’, she bites the side of her lip and nods slowly.

‘I’ve think I’ve just fallen a little more in love with Dr Moens’, he sighs.

*

Like a bad movie, the time between her arrival home and the boys bedtime stretches on for days. Poor Jamie trips on the step and gives himself a fat lip. Tom gets a paper cut and carries on like he’s lost limb. She loves them so much. But all she can think is please go to bed so I can ravish your father.

She can see that Scott is trying to be cool and calm about their impending fuckathon too. In actual fact his nervous energy is causing the boys to act like lunatics.

It’s driving her to distraction. Before she gives Oli his 7:30pm feed she pulls Scott into their home office.

‘You’re driving me crazy, Moir. And not in a ‘I can’t wait to fuck you’ kinda way. We need these kids to go to bed and fall asleep. So for the love of awesome sex, please, please take it down a notch, read the boys a couple of boring as batshit books and dull them into a deep sleep,’ she implores.

‘You mean lull them?’ he asks.

‘No dull. Like monotonous, tedious, bland. Make them try to escape you by falling asleep’, she demands.

‘Fuck. OK, good to know. Wanna take your bossiness down a notch? he laughs.

‘I do not’ she says calmly with a wicked grin. Then she quickly encircles her arms around his neck and jumps up to wrap both her legs around his waist, giving him a searing kiss. He quickly moves forward until she’s got her back against the closed door. He kisses her back with equal enthusiasm, squeezing her ass with his hands then pulls back and places his forehead on hers. He takes one hand and rubs it between her legs gently. ‘Fuck I want you. How’s everything feeling?’ he pants against her mouth.

‘Definitely firing on all cylinders. Feels nothing but good. Thank fuck. I’ve been worried’ she admits.

‘You know we don’t have to do anything until you feel completely ready, right?’ he strokes the side of her face with the back of his fingers.

‘Yeah, of course I know that. I will tell you if I don’t’ she kisses his forehead. ‘OK, let’s divide and conquer. You take the older two, I’ll take the little one’, she puts up her hand to high-five him. He high-gives her back and slaps her backside as she walks past him.

‘Game on’, he declares.

*

There is no game on. While Tom and James fall asleep straight after he reads them a couple of books Oliver has other plans. He is fussy and unsettled. It takes a feed, a warm bath, another feed and forty minutes of him rocking Oliver to finally soothe him to sleep.

‘You don’t feel like a real parent until you get cock-blocked by your own kids, eh?’ he says tumbling into bed.

‘So true,’ she yawns. ‘It’s another thing they don’t tell you. It’s amazing people go on to have subsequent children. It’s so fucking tiring trying to find time to actually conceive them’.

He lays on the bed with his eyes closed. Are they really gonna get around to fucking each other tonight? God, he hopes so. But it’s so nice just laying here quietly for a moment.

He feels the bed move. She shifts to straddle him as she removes her top and gives a slow roll of her hips.

‘Don’t disappoint me Moir, no sleeping on the job’ she whispers.

He runs his hands up her arms and across her décolletage. ‘This is new’ he says lightly running his fingers over a black, lace bra.

‘It is,’ she sighs, grinding onto him. ‘It’s staying on please. We’ve done enough breastfeeding sex to know the dangers of a braless, orgasming Tess’.

They do indeed.

‘I wanna touch you. Can I still touch you?’ he asks pushing his cock up into her. He knows she can feel him through her leggings. He’s already starting to get hard.

‘Yes, please’ she shudders as he places his hands on her tits and moves his fingers in gentle circles, lightly running across her hardened nipples.

Her head falls backwards. Such a fucking turn on when she does that.

‘This feels so nice and we haven’t even done anything yet’ she brings her head back up and smiles into his eyes.

He moves his hands to her hips and moves her off his lap.

‘Get naked and come down here and kiss me’ he demands.

She removes her leggings and underwear. He reaches behind his head and grabs his t-shirt with his right hand, pulling it forwards over his head.

‘Can I take your pants off?’ she asks as she dips her hand under his waist band.

‘Be my guest’ he chuckles.

He’s known her long enough to expect what’s coming next. She takes his cock in her hand and teases the tip with her finger. Then she lightly rubs her hand all the way down his shaft to his balls.

‘Lift your hips so you can loose these pants,’ she says softly, ‘I’m gonna to take you in my mouth and suck your cock’.

He immediately obeys.

She does as she promised, using her perfect mouth to suck and lick him the most exquisite way.

‘Hey, come here and lay your stomach on my chest, I wanna do that to you while you do it to me’.

She moves up the bed and sits on his chest facing his cock. Her legs are either side of his pecs, her feet tucked under his shoulders. He runs his hands up her spine and gently pushes her body forward. She leans all the way down so her stomach is laying against his torso and takes his cock in her hand, directing it into her mouth again. Now that she’s leaning flat against him her ass is raised and her pussy is directly in his face. He runs his hands over her ass before licking a long, wet stripe from her clit over her opening. He feels her shiver.

‘Do it again’ she pleads.

He holds her thighs and pulls her a little closer to his face. He starts with soft lapping of her opening before using his tongue to gently push inside her. He sucks and nips then uses his finger to make lazy circles around her clit. He keeps up a steady pace for a few minutes and he knows she’s enjoying it because her moans are becoming louder and the way she’s licking and sucking his cock has lost its purpose and rhythm.

‘Do you want me to use my finger too?’ he asks as her runs it on the outside of her opening.

‘Fuck. Yes. Please,’ she pants.

She’s so wet his finger slides into her warmth without any resistance. He drags his finger in and out while licking and sucking. She’s all but stopped playing with his cock, just the token licking of his tip while her fingers run across his balls.

‘You have to stop’ she whispers ‘if you keep going I’m gonna come and we haven’t got to the main event yet’.

She moves off him and wipes his face with her hand.

‘Can you sit on the edge of the bed while I sit on your cock?’ she smiles.

‘Yeah, of course you can Sweetheart’ he manoeuvres them to the edge of the bed.
‘How you feeling?’ he asks.

‘Amazing so far,’ she exhales ‘but this is the real test’.

He cups her face ‘We’re not in a rush, just go slow, OK?’

He gives her a long, leisurely kiss as she positions herself above him and slowly sinks down into his cock. She bottoms out and is still.

They lock eyes.

‘You feel so hard,’ she sighs.

‘I am. We haven’t done this in six weeks and I could come just from being inside you and you heavy breathing in my ear’ he laughs.

‘This feels perfect. Everything is perfect. You’re perfect,’ she hums.

‘Wanna move with me?’ she asks in such a sexy voice he thinks his head may explode

‘Absolutely’ he answers.

He grabs her ass as she rolls her hips in slow circles. Fuck. He’s missed this. The warmth, the closeness, her heartbeat against his chest. She’s amazing. When she begins to rock back and forwards it all becomes to much for him.

‘Fuck. Tess, I’m gonna come. I’m sorry, I can’t hold on any longer,’ he grunts.

‘Wait for me, wait for me, please’ Tess begs him.

He tries. But he can’t wait any longer, his orgasm overpowers him and he comes in a spurt of uncontrolled thrusts, moaning in her ear.

It doesn’t matter though, the uninhibited momentum was just what she needed to push her over the edge.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you’ she cries as she comes.

‘You’re very welcome’ he snorts.

‘I’m sorry to say I wasn’t talking to you’ she makes a pretend frowny face. ‘I’m thanking the universe for the marvel of dissolving stitches and the ability of a vajayjay to knit itself back together. Everything is definitely still in working order. How did I get so lucky?’ she wonders aloud.

‘Somewhere in your youth or childhood you must have done something good?’ he suggests.

She collapses against him in laughter.

‘Did you just answer my question with a quote from The Sound of Music?’ she’s laughing so hard she can barely speak.

‘Aye, aye Captain’ he deadpans.