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I roll my hips and give him the show he’s looking for. Then suddenly, his cock is plunging into my pussy. With his violent thrusts, it’s hard to keep my fingers inside. Each push forward into me, I can feel my fingers being pushed out, but I manage to keep them inside. It’s hard to keep my balance. Eventually, I pull my fingers out and he puts his own back in and stars burst in front of my eyes.
“Oh fuck!” I cry out as I’m gripped by a sudden, powerful orgasm. He stands on the bed, lifting my ass up with him. My upper half is still on the bed, but my lower half is in the air. He’s grunting and fucking me like his cock is a jackhammer trying to break through some impenetrable wall. I’m screaming as one orgasm after another rips through my body, blurring my senses.
“Holy shit that feels so good. You’re a fucking god” I cry. There are some other nonsensical words that come out of my mouth as he fucks my brains out. How on earth does he have the strength to hold me and up and drill me like this? I feel jealous for all the other women out there whose husbands aren’t fucking them like this. I don’t feel like I’ve done enough good in this world yet to deserve it. But I will.
He slaps my ass, loving the way it jiggles. He’s obsessed with my big butt. It’s why I’m always wearing skirts and yoga pants in front of him. It gets him wound up every time.
He lets out a loud roar as he comes. His cock twitches deep inside as he finds release.
Lowering me onto the bed, his hands that had been ferociously pawing at me just moments ago, now gently caress my back. As the adrenaline melts away I can feel how tender my skin is, can feel my aching muscles and stretched orifices. I’ve been ravaged in every sense of the word and it’s a lovely feeling.
We lay in bed, staring into each other’s eyes without saying a word. We’ve done this for an hour before, just studying, loving, worshiping each other.
“I love you,” he says. Though he looks exhausted, the love in his expression is alive and vivid.
I touch his cheek and kiss his lips. “I love you too.”
Though I don’t want our honeymoon to ever be over, part of me can’t wait to get home and start our new life together.EpilogueFive Years LaterI hold my giant belly and look up at the ceiling of the nursery in our new home as Leo finishes putting up the Vitruvian man wall paper. Leonardo Junior still has a month before he arrives, but we want to have every little thing ready for him when he gets here. There’s a rocking chair in the corner of the room with a soft lamp where I can feed him in the middle of the night. There’s a changing table, a dresser, and a bassinet we got from family at our baby shower. We’ve decided to go with a Leonardo da Vinci theme, making prints of his art for the walls and small toy replicas of his inventions. It was Leo’s idea. Being academics, it only makes sense that we wouldn’t have a traditional cartoon animal theme like most nurseries have. It’s just right for us and our little family.
“It’s perfect,” I say, smiling at everything we’ve accomplished.
Leo steps off the ladder and puts his arm around my shoulders. “It is, isn’t?” He looks so proud, which makes me burst with joy. “The little guy is going to love it.”
It’s been five years since I finished law school and we got married. Five blissful years of marriage. They say the first year is the hardest, but that hasn’t been the case for us. We just work, it’s almost effortless. And now we have our little bundle of love on the way.
In those short five years I’ve already made partner at my law clinic. Leo enjoyed being in the courtroom so much while I was working my cases that he quit his job as a teacher to become part of the legal team as a researcher. Together we are like Batman and Robin, cleaning up crime and serving justice. It’s amazing that I get to be with my husband in life and in my job. We’re the perfect team.
Leo stands behind me, rubbing my belly. “I hope he has your eyes,” Leo says to me. We play this game regularly, telling each other what parts of us we hope our child will have.
“I hope he has your beautiful soul,” I say.
“Me too. You’re kind of a grouch these days.”
I laugh and smack him on the arm. He laughs too.
“These pregnancy hormones are a bitch. I can’t help it,” I say.
