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I hurry to get the things I came in for, including the sliced watermelon I prepped earlier, to account for the delay of the fertilization attempt I was hoping would happen, and then I head out, to join the boys.
Most of the food has been devoured, and Loosh is covered in crumbs and snoring his head off, passed out with his lower half still in the paddling pool.
Quin sees me coming and moves away from the food. “I need some more shade,” he mumbles, getting up and going further under the tree. “This delicate complexion can only take so much abuse.”
“Not me.” I spin in the sunshine with my plate of watermelon and the remainder of Quin’s semen in my cup. “I’ve been busy inside all day and need the vitamin D. And I almost forgot about the watermelon,” I say, as if I haven’t planned this whole thing. “It took a while, to cut it all up, but it’s nice and cold. Curty can you please put this with the other food, out of the sun, hon?”
He does as he’s asked, because he loves watermelon, and I eat a piece while I pick the right spot to sit in and settle an appropriate distance away from Quin.
I bring my cup to my lips and smile at him with my eyes before tipping it up and drinking down his cum. I make sure to drip a little at the corner of my mouth, and collecting it with my finger, I suck it clean.
Quin’s eyes are so full of heated approval, he may need another trip to the bathroom.
I moan softly, and then sigh. “What is wrong with me, Curty? I forgot the jug of iced tea, and that’s what I went in for. Must be getting old and losing my mind. Would you be my hero and run inside on those fast, young legs of yours and bring out the jug on the counter, for your poor, ailing mama?”
Curty laughs at me. “You’re not old. All the kids at school have way older moms than me.”
“Well, can you still get me some iced tea, even though my legs aren’t as ancient as I made them out to be?” I ask with begging hands and puppy-dog eyes.
He pulls a face at me, but he goes in to get the jug, like a good boy.
Quin shifts a little closer, looking me over. “Need something to wash down that thick shot of protein?”
“Definitely,” I reply, spreading my legs to show him the glistening cum on the tops of my thighs. “I took a shot in each end, and I loved it, but I sure wish I had more.”
He rolls onto his stomach and presses his hips into the ground, as he stares between my legs. He glances past my shoulder for a second, then returns his attention to the wet crotch of my shorts. The clinking sound of ice cubes against glass is getting closer, and Quin pushes his sunglasses down over his eyes, hiding the direction of his gaze as Curty approaches.
I slide my legs back together and beam up at our boy. “Thanks, Curty. I appreciate the help. I’m sorry I’ve been too busy to help out with your treehouse, but I have to study for that course coming up, and I’ve got work tomorrow.”
Quin looks me over. “How’s it all going? Nursing is as you’d hoped? Still enjoying it?”
I nod. “I love it.”
“Good,” he says with a genuine smile. “I’m happy for you.”
“I love it, but I’d be happier if I didn’t have to go back to work tomorrow. I’d rather keep watching the amazing job you guys are doing.” I look up at the treehouse that’s really starting to take shape. It’s going to have a turret like the one Quin made for Atticus. “I really did want to help.”
“That’s okay,” Curty says. “It’s really a Monty Bros project — that’s the name of our construction team.”
I make an impressed face, as I nod with approval. “I like it. Got a nice ring to it. You going into business soon? Do I need to book you in, to build us a cabin in the woods?” I glance at Quin, who’s staring at me with an expression I can’t read.
“What kind of cabin?” Curty demands to know. “Hunting-and-fishing kind, or books-and-fairy-stuff?” he asks, giving me a dubious sideways look.
I make bug eyes at him. “Don’t give me that look. I don’t make fun of your décor choices. My fairy room is pretty, and I like it. But I like the idea of hunting and fishing, too, so maybe this cabin could be both? Does Monty Bros Construction do design and build? Because you have to listen to what the client wants.”
Curty narrows his gaze at me. “List your demands.”
I laugh at how much he sounds like Quin and take a bite of watermelon, chewing while I do my thinking hum. “I guess we’ll need a big storage closet, for all the Lego.”
“We’re putting that in the treehouse, too,” Curty says with a nod. “Good that you recognize the importance of that crucial requirement. Fairy lights are going to be much further down the list of priorities.”
I look at Quin and point to our son. “I let you two hang out for a few days, and you give him a whole new vocabulary, to argue with me?”
Quin grins and tosses an old acorn at Curty. “Let your mom have some fairy lights. It gets dark in the woods, and we’re going to need lighting, anyway. Plus, they twinkle and make life feel magical.”
Curty stares at him. “You’ll come to our cabin?”
Quin’s smile fades a little, and he shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, you’re going to need some help building it, right? It’s notMonty Bro— singular.” His cheeks flush slightly, and he shrugs again. “And I’d come stay in the woods with you, if you wanted. Sounds like fun. We could fish together.”
