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And Lana was a fucking amazing mom.
“Really?” she asked, smile hopeful.
“Really,” I said, nodding, reaching for her. “Maybe we can line up some sleepovers, so we can work on it without being worried about interruptions,” I suggested.
“Your mom always wants the kids to stay over,” she said. Granted, the older two would likely choose to stay with their cousins instead, but my mom and dad would love even just having the younger two.
Her body was melting into me, though, and I wasn’t sure how long I could wait.
Her mind seemed to be on the same thing as Liam started getting frustrated and slamming things.
“Nap for him,” she said.
“Bribes for the others,” I said, knowing where her head was going.
“Then meet in the cottage,” she said, eyes heated already.
“Half an hour,” I agreed, reaching for my phone, ready to pop online and download some gift card codes for the kids gaming systems or tablets. A little money went a long way in keeping kids busy for an hour, so their parents could sneak away for an afternoon quickie.
Isaac was probably getting too old to trick anymore, but he also wasn’t going to turn down a card to buy skins or shit like that on his game, so he took his code, and ran up to his room.
With another kid coming, we might consider moving him into a spacious basement bedroom, giving him the privacy a kid his age would want. A place to be alone, away from the little kids, but also an area that he could entertain his cousins or friends.
Maybe a basement bedroom and a basement “teen lounge” that he would share with Hazel as she got older. Then the other kids further down the line.
Luckily, I knew exactly where I could get some free labor.
You had to love always having prospects at the club.
“Okay,” Lana said, slamming and locking the door behind her, face flushed, a baby monitor in her hand, a lullaby crooning softly from it. “Have I mentioned lately how much I enjoy having a private little sex-pad?” she asked as I pushed her up against the door, my hands already moving under her shirt, greedy for the feel of her.
The granny flat had many uses over the years.
Lana and the kids’ first real home.
The kids’ playhouse.
A guest spot if someone was popping into town, or if someone’s house was having repairs done.
And, of course, our favorite use of the space.
Fucking in private.
Loud as we pleased, without worrying about traumatizing the kids.
We had time, could take it slow, could explore.
But our hands were impatient, yanking at clothes until we were both standing there naked, hands sliding over bare skin, sparking little fires, as our breathing got ragged, as little whimpers escaped Lana.
Suddenly, she was moving down to her knees, taking my cock in her mouth, sucking it just the way she knew I liked. Deep and fast, her tongue occasionally teasing over the tip.
My hands framed her head, holding on as she worked me, as she damn near made me lose control.
She was good at that.
But when we had some alone time, I wanted to take full advantage of each other.
Pulling her back, I went down on my knees with her, lips claiming hers as my hands went down her body, sinking into her ass, dragging her against me, my cock pressing against her.
She pushed me back until I lowered onto my ass on the carpet, and she was moving over me, straddling me. Desperate to feel me, she grabbed my cock, then lowered onto it, letting out a deep moan as I settled deep.
“Fuck,” I groaned. “Ride me, baby.”
There was no hesitation.
So rode me hard and fast, leaning back against my legs when I cocked them up, hitting her G-spot, and coming hard while crying out my name.
I grabbed her, flipping her onto her hands and knees, then surging back inside her.
My hand fisted in her hair, giving her a little tug as I fucked her. Slow at first, letting the need start to grow again, then harder and faster as she started to moan and slam back into me as I fucked her.
“Come for me,” I growled, tugging her hair harder.
Then she did, taking me with her.
We both collapsed back onto the carpet afterward, breath ragged, bodies spent. But in the best way possible.
Lana curled up into my side, letting out a contented sigh.
“If we’re going to make another baby, we are going to need to make lots of visits to our love shack,” she declared, getting a chuckle out of me.
“It will be hard work, but I think it will be worth it,” I said.
And it was.
A little under a year later, we had our fifth and final child. Another little boy.
Lana - 13 years
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” I told Isaac as we sat in the kitchen, having coffee.
