Page 51 of Midlife Woes (Ex)

“A lot bigger, or my gosh. What’s all this?” I walked her through the rooms, which were the sleeping area, a changing area, a bathroom, and a play area for when they got older.

“Did I remember everything?” She opened the closets that our moms, along with Savanna, Sheila, and Maeve, had spent the last few weeks organizing.

She ran her hands over the hanging sweaters and tee shirts before pulling open the glass-faced drawers to look at the stuff that was folded in there. Each kid had his own little wardrobe and drawer set that had been built into the walls in the changing area, while the sleeping area had the cribs strategically aligned.

“Looks like you thought of everything.”

“I’m sure I forgot something, but we’ve got the basics so far.” I had bought thousands of diapers in varying sizes because I read that they could outgrow those really fast. Even their clothes had been bought in graduating sizes, as well as their shoes.

I’ve been on autopilot for the last few weeks, trying to beat the deadline in my head. Now that most of it is out of the way, I can breathe. “I feel so guilty; you did all this on your own.”

“Well, yeah, you’re doing all the heavy lifting, so this is the least I could do.” I patted her tummy, and she started to get frisky.

I had to sidestep her without her realizing what I was doing. It’s been hell keeping my hands off of her, but there’s no way I’m going to hurt her. I go to bed late after she’s gone to sleep so I can avoid getting close to her because of that fear and leave before she wakes up, though I want nothing more than to hold her until she falls asleep and be there when she wakes up in the morning.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

I started to lie to her but thought better of it. Lying is something I never want to do with her, not even about the littlest thing. I’m ever conscious of the hurt she’d suffered right before we met, so that’s one road I won’t go down.

“Yes, because I want you, but I won’t risk hurting you or our babies.” She got closer, and I swallowed hard and tried to get away from her.

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” One kiss, just one kiss, I promised myself.

One of the kids kicked my palm when our lips touched. We both laughed against each other’s mouths. “Again!” I know I said one, but I’m fascinated by anything her body does while my kids are in there.

Somehow, I got lost in the feel of her tummy under my hands and the taste of her tongue, and before you knew it was I leading her to the big cushiony divan in the kids’ room. She raised her arms in the air, and without thinking, I lifted the short maternity dress over her head.

She’s the one who rolled her bikini panties down off her ass while we were playing tongue tag. It was she who shoved her hand down my pants. I started to call a halt again, but she tricked me, which I didn’t realize at the time.

“You don’t have to do anything just sit. I wanna thank you for my beautiful surprise.” I looked at her askance because she’s kinda slippery, but I saw no artifice in her gaze. So I sat and helped her down when she tried to kneel in front of me.

Well, I stopped thinking altogether when she started licking the precum from my cockhead. And when she started making love to my cock with her tongue, teasingly taking as much as she could into her mouth while massaging my balls, I closed my eyes in bliss. That was my mistake.

Those damn yoga classes she’d started back taking made her kind spry, so I wasn’t quick enough to catch what she was doing when she popped my cock out of her mouth and stroked me a few times with her hand, which made me believe she just needed a break to breathe, but the next thing I knew she was straddling me and had a pregnant pussy full of dick.

“Fuck, Jo,”

“Well, yeah.” I glared at her for being smart, but who can stay mad at her for long? But, when all is said and done, there might be something to this terrified sex thing. One minute I was sure I was going to fuck her into labor, and the next, I wasn’t thinking about anything other than nutting. It’s its own kink, I guess.

* * *

JOLENE

* * *

I thinkI’ve been looking at this thing all wrong. Here I am surrounded by all the women in my life, except my ex-mother-in-law, propped up by a million and one pillows, which my delightful husband threatened everyone within an inch of their lives if they moved even one. I’m not sure what his deal is with pillows.

Anyway, as I sat there listening to their pregnancy stories and reminiscing about my own, I realized that none of us ever had it this good. I don’t think I’ve lifted a finger since moving in with him. I couldn’t tell you the last time I washed a dish or even saw the sink, come to think of it.

Now, I know most women might grumble about their freedom and whatnot, but when I compare the attention I get from my husband compared to my other four pregnancies, he has them all beat hands down.

Once I realized that he wasn’t doing this because of my age, it was easy to just let go and go with the flow. How do I know it’s not about my age? Well, last week, Savanna caught a cold. She called, and I had her on speaker because I was stuffing my face with California rolls, and Damon was painting my toes.

She sounded miserable and wanted her momma, and her dorm mate was making her crazy. I know my child, and when she’s sick, she’s worse than a dude who stubbed his toe. You know what I mean, it’s the end of the world.

Well, unbeknownst to me, he had her picked up and brought home. She was allowed to wave to me from the doorway because Damon would’ve had ten fits if she got near me with the sniffles, but she was set up in her room with everything her little heart desired.

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