by Brill Harper
She smiles, but it doesn’t light up her face like her real ones do. Shit. She isn’t changing her mind, is she? I take a deep breath.
“We need to talk,” we both say at the same time.
“Babe, is something wrong? When you’re not wringing your hands, you’re playing with the hem of your shirt.”
She drops her hands to her sides like I just challenged her. “Having a relationship with a cop is hard. You see too much.” She points to the couch. “Sit. I have something for you.”
I push shit onto the floor in case she wants to sit next to me. Where are we going to put all this stuff? I didn’t think I had that much, but when you move two apartments into one, it’s way more than we need. Maybe I can learn to build some bookshelves or something.
She comes out of the bedroom with a gift bag, which she thrusts at me. “Here.”
“It’s not my birthday. Are we having an anniversary or something?” She’s not been the “it’s our one-month anniversary of the first time we ate pizza together” kind of girlfriend, but maybe I’ve been missing the signs of necessary romance.
“No. It’s just a gift. Open it.”
I’m nervous, but I don’t know why. “Does this have something to do with why you’ve been distracted today?”
“Will you just open the damn bag already?”
I hold my hands up. “Okay, okay.” Jesus. I pull out the tissue paper first. She used a lot of it. Inside the gift bag is a box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese Dinner. “Uh, thanks, babe.” I have no freakin’ clue why she would give me a box of...wait a minute.
She’s chewing the inside of her lip watching me very closely.
“You said you didn’t like this stuff anymore.” My voice sounds a little accusatory. I don’t mean it to, but my mind is sparking off in too many directions at once.
“I know.”
“Are you by any chance craving it?”
Her eyes get watery. “Don’t be mad, okay?”
Mad? “Babe—”
“I don’t know why I’m such a freak of nature. We used a condom every time. I’m just obviously a very, very fertile person. I mean, considering how Kenzie got here, I don’t suppose we should be surprised, but I can’t think of a single time when we weren’t careful. And I know this is not a great time. You’re starting a new job and we just moved in together and are getting used to being a family. Daycare is going to wipe out my savings if the diaper costs don’t do it first. And we haven’t talked much about the future since we’re just getting used to the now and—”
She’s pregnant? I pull her onto my lap. “Are you going to let me talk ever?”
“I ramble sometimes.”
“I noticed.” I cup her gorgeous face in my hands, stunned like I am every day that she’s mine. “We’re having another baby?”
She dips her face into my neck and inhales. “You’re not mad, are you?”
“Do I look mad?”
Hillary pulls back and looks at my face. “No. I’m a little mad. Why aren’t you mad?”
“I’m concerned. Kenzie’s birth almost took you away from me. Do you think it’s safe to have another baby?”
“My OB told me at my last appointment that I could still have more children. They would probably treat my pregnancy as high risk, but there would be no reason to assume the same thing would happen.”
“Okay, but nobody thought it would happen so soon. You need to go see a doctor right away. You haven’t already, have you?”
She shakes her head. “No. I just got a test from the drugstore.” She sighs and curls up a little more into me. “You’re sure you’re not mad?”
“Sweetheart, you and Kenzie are the best thing that ever happened to me. You know that. I love being with you.”
“Don’t think I haven’t heard you trying to teach her to say da-da every time I leave the room.”
“You mad?”
“No, it made me cry, though, knowing you wanted to be her daddy. That was the first clue that my hormones were out of whack again. I’d been getting better about not crying at everything, and then I got sideswiped with a craving for macaroni again.”
“As far as I’m concerned, as far as anyone is concerned, she’s my daughter. You know that, right?” We never did anything about my name on the birth certificate, so I’ll never have to adopt her. She’s already mine.
“I love you.”
“God, I love you too.” Another baby. My life is so different from even less than a year ago.
It begins with a sweet hug and then a tender kiss but, like always, it quickly turns to more. The kisses get deeper, our tongues dancing, darting in and out, testing and teasing. A light nibble here and there. Our hands begin exploring as we settle into the couch. I cup her breast and her hand cups me lower, feeling how firm and wanting I already am. Always. My fingers wrap in her hair and pull her closer. Her hips rock almost lazily. Just a bit of a grind.
My hand edges the fabric of her shirt, slowly inching underneath. Our bodies continue to rock to meet one another, pulling closer, deeper. I lean in and smell the crook of her neck, kissing her skin and feeling the muscles beneath it tighten. Her breath quickens. She’s my whole world, and I uncover her bit by bit. Her shirt. My shirt. My mouth never stops kissing her as we undress. Her pants. My pants.
She straddles my lap, naked and grinding that sweet pussy against my aching dick. She’s so wet. Always ready for me. I angle my cock, and poise there, pausing to take in the look on her face when I first slide into her. It’s my favorite moment—the anticipation for when the head of my thick cock slips inside her, pushing her, stretching her.
“Look at me.” She opens her eyes. “Good girl.” I slide the thick head of my dick through her creamy cleft and push inside, burying my cock deep inside her and watching the first shock of my entry on her face. Then the arousal.
She gets lost in me. Every time. There’s nothing like it. She told me once I become her sun when we fuck. The rhythm and stroke of my throbbing cock becomes her heartbeat. That she goes somewhere only I can take her when I’m inside her. Remembering her words, knowing she’s mine, completely mine, right now makes me swell more. I fuck her deeper, harder, and she sucks me inside her body.
I hold her hips and angle mine, watching my cock disappear inside her. “Ride me, sweetheart.”
She throws her head back, arching in sweet abandon. Up and down, harder and harder. “Fuck...fuck...you’re so deep inside me.”
“It feels so good to fuck you raw, Hillary. I’m going to fill you up with my come.”
“Yes,” she whimpers, nearly begging. “I'm yours...”
I can’t stop grunting like an animal as she rides me hard. I start thrusting like a desperate man. “Such a hot, tight pussy,” I pant in time with my thrusts.
Her limbs start to seize. “Look at me,” I demand as I grab her chin. “Look at me when you come.” I slow, giving her long thrusts until she starts contracting around me. Then I pump into her while she rides out the waves of pleasure crashing over her. Her warm, slick juices drip down my dick. I’m never wearing a fucking condom again. This is amazing.
“Keep coming all over me, babe. I love that sweet pussy so much,” I urge in her ear as I wrap my arms around her tightly. “I'm going to come inside you...deep inside you...fill you up.”
I can’t stop it now. My body tenses into a free fall of ecstasy. My balls tingle and I shoot deep, spurting into her trembling body as I quake uncontrollably, pouring everything I am into the woman I love.
She collapses onto my chest, and we are still for a moment, our lungs sawing for air. Heaven. She’s heaven on earth.
I squeeze her. Probably too tight. “Please marry me.”
I should have planned it better. Gotten a ring. Flowers. A babysitter.
Instead, we’re covered in sex in the middle of boxes and newspaper. I’m still inside her, and she’s still shaking from aftershocks. My timing is not great.
I don’t care. “Please,” I repeat.
“I suppose I need to make an honest man of you. Especially if we end up with the same maternity ward nurses who already think we’re married.”
“So that’s a yes?”
Kenzie’s cry punctuates the room from the baby monitor.
Hillary laughs. “I’ll marry you. I’ll marry you every day for the rest of your life if you want.”
Epilogue
Hillary
Five years later
I’M FEELING...WELL, I don’t even know how I’m feeling. I just finished my very last final exam and am now officially done with my degree in advertising. I thought I would feel really excited or relieved or happy or something, but I just feel like I checked off a box on my to-do list.
A nine-year to-do list, but it’s still anticlimactic.
Mac asked me to stop at Old Joe’s on my way home and pick up his debit card that he dropped on the floor that morning. It’s a little weird. Mac is not the guy that loses his debit card. Not like me who lost my keys the first day we met.
I suppose I should be thankful I’m such a mess. It got me the guy, right? I figure the man who met me with cankles but still found me attractive is a keeper. I have pretty good ankles now, I must say. I don’t work out as much as I should, but I give it more effort than I used to. Mostly because Mac insisted on the self-defense class which led to me actually enjoying hitting and kicking things. Who knew? Now we have bags in the basement for my hitting and kicking pleasure.
I almost forget to stop at Old Joe’s. I’m making more lists in my head. What I need at the grocery store for one. I think it’s my night to cook dinner. I’m almost sure of it. Maybe I’ll get a double shot of something before I leave. It’s rare that I don’t need a jolt of caffeine. I pull open the door expecting to hear the bell above it jingle. Instead, I hear, “Surprise!”
The banner above the register says, “Congratulations, Hillary!” Standing in front of the counter are Mac, my parents, Joe, Cap, our neighbors, and my sweet daughters, Kenzie and Ricki. Well, okay, they aren’t really all that sweet. Every now and then they are, though.
I immediately tear up and then mentally count the days since my last period while everyone hugs me. No, I’m good. Tears of happiness, not tears of hormonalness. I love our kids, but I am not ready for a third.
“Mommy,” Kenzie hands me her artwork. “I made this at school today for you.”
I clutch it to my chest and give everyone hugs and kisses. “Thank you, everyone, for being here. I couldn’t have gotten my degree without all of you.”
I catch the eye of my husband. Especially you, I tell him with my eyes.
I have zero clue what I’m actually going to do with this degree. I’ve spent the last few years concentrating on small children, and Ricki isn’t in school yet, so I’m not going to start work until they are both full-time. But I finished it. That was the important part.
Mac slides his arm around my waist when we find a small pocket of privacy. “So proud of you, babe,” he says into my neck.
Instant goose bumps. Still After all these years.
I turn in his arms. “I’m glad to be done. Now, I’ll have more free time in the evenings, after the girls go to bed.” I press my boobs into his chest. “I need a new hobby. Any ideas?”
He looks down my shirt. “I have a few.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You can watch the games with me. Basketball is your favorite, right?”
I wince. Not basketball. He still wants to watch it all the time and it still annoys the hell out of me. “Funny. I was thinking something more active, maybe.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Maybe we could buy one of those Kama Sutra books and try a new position every night.”
I feel him harden against my stomach. “That’s better than basketball.”
We have our coffee and cake and go home. I stop for takeout instead of groceries.
Our house is small, sometimes it feels even smaller than our last apartment, but it’s got a small yard and it’s close to the schools. I remember worrying how I was going to raise my daughter alone, now I never have to face anything alone.
After dinner and baths and storytime, I take a long bath myself. When I’m boneless and relaxed, I decide tonight is an excellent night to try something new.
I slide into bed next to my husband and grab the remote to turn off whatever ESPN show he was engrossed in. He gives me a look and a pinched expression.
“You will be happy I did that. Trust me.”
He blows air out his nostrils, but his curiosity is piqued when I open the nightstand drawer and toss a bottle of lube in front of him. Up goes his eyebrow.
“Really?”
I nod.
Mac kisses me, his tongue probing, his lips sucking. We’ve been close to going in the backdoor several times, but I always chicken out. Tonight, I’m up for adventure.
I tug his shirt. “I want your skin, Stryker.”
He gives a slow, graceful smile, and I feel bits of my heart bloom. “So take what you want, baby.”
I undress us both slowly, and he watches intently. “I love the way you’re looking at me right now.”
“I love looking at you.”
I swipe my hand across his chest and down, his muscles jump reflexively under my hands. “I love touching you, too.” My hands continue to rove over the mountains and valleys of his cut torso, the soft, downy happy trail showing me the way to where I want to be.
I smell the hollow of his throat. Mine. He’s mine. He was made for me.
He wrestles me under him, and I pretend to fight him off, my resistance a turn-on to us both. I want to take and be taken.
We’re kissing and the heat, the longing, and the need in his eyes, makes me so wet. “I got you, now,” he says.
“I guess you do. The question is, what are you going to do about it?”
“Always need to challenge me, don’t you?” A dimple flashes and he bites my nipple.
I arch into him. My body is humming at his promise. I’m up for everything. I want his hot, wet mouth. I want his dick inside me. I want everything.
He moves up to the head of the bed, straddling me. His dick is thick and heavy, sprouting proudly from a dark nest of curls. He’s leaking with desire, the tip of him glistening. He feeds it to me slowly. I love the taste of him. The silk of his dick on my tongue.
“Oh, baby. You’re going to make me come too fast like this. And I want your ass tonight.” He pulls himself away and crawls back down the bed, lowering his face. “This pussy. Fuck.”
The licks, the sucks, the kisses to my pussy and the tight rim of our next frontier are not controlled. My husband is feasting on me, and the noises he’s making are clearly those of a happy man.
He moves up my body until we’re face to face. The look in his eyes is calculating as fuck. “I’m going to fuck you now, baby.” His lays his cock against me so I feel its girth, its length. He picks up the lube. “You sure about this?”
I nod as he prepares his giant cock with lube. I’m nervous but excited. I get on my hands and knees. His cockhead presses against my ass, and then he pushes in slow and holds there, kissing my spine. I stretch around him, a little pain mixed in with the pleasure. I can feel every inch of him as he works it into me. Nerves I didn’t know I had tingle and zap. I turn to look over my shoulder and watch his face as he watches where we are joined. He’s trying so hard to keep that feral animal inside him controlled, but each second is harder than the next for him.
He takes it slow and lets me get used to him, inch by inch. I clench my jaw and gasp, feeling him work that fat cock deeper into me. My husband always feels so big and solid. I’m intensely full.
He hisses with pleasure when his balls finally slap against my pussy. He’s all the way in now. Dull discomfort mixes with pleasure inside me. He withdraws, and I get a second of relief. Another thrust. Gradually, I can feel him picking up the pace, and a pleasurable pain radiates out from my center.
“You’re so tight. You feel amazing.” He rides me harder and adds his hand to my pussy, rubbing my clit. The things he does with his fingers makes me see stars. "You're so wet, naughty girl," he says. "Your sweet pussy is so tight and hot and wet on my fingers. And your ass is squeezing me so tight."
It’s too much. All the sensations are overwhelming. “Finish me,” I plead. “God, please.”
“Baby, I thought you’d never fucking ask.” He grinds his pelvis into me, and he uses his thumb on my clit, hard.
Light flashes behind my eyes as I come, clenching hard on his dick. It’s raw. Pure. Untamed. Mac roars, that animal finally let out of his cage, and he pumps more and more into my body.
When he collapses on the pillow next to me, neither of us know what to say. So, we start to laugh.
“Jesus. That was amazing. I love you so much. Are you okay? Did it hurt?”
I snuggle into him. “A little. The good kind of hurt though. Tell me that again tomorrow when I try to sit down though.”
We clean up and get a snack, watch some TV, and as I drift off to sleep, I realize that my life just keeps getting better every day. That the secret is trusting him. Trusting love. And saying what I feel. That’s all I have to do.
Tomorrow is another day. I promised Ricki we could make cookies when her sister goes to school. I should probably clean the bathrooms—things slid a lot during finals. Maybe I can get out of cooking dinner tomorrow, though, if I suggest we BBQ. Mac likes to think he’s some kind of gourmet at the grill, and I let him because it makes him happy, and it’s less work for me.
He curls around me in his sleep, pressing my back into his chest.
Yeah, I’m glad my life exploded into such mess five years ago. My heart got pretty banged up and bruised, but it makes it all the sweeter now.
Tapped
AUTHOR CONFESSION: It’s a role reversal for the bartender to give the customer the tip, isn’t it? There’s also tapping, dry hopping, and some thick foamy head—it is a bar after all. But do you really think I could write an alphamallow who doesn’t fall head over heels for the mousy, plump girl? I think you all know me better than that by now. Let’s hear it for BBW love and blue collar heroes!
