Page 38 of Not So Stranded
Kit cursed, and I moaned as Zenori helped that egg leave me. I wanted to watch them open the egg, see our next child smile for the first time, but the eggs were coming faster now. Two of them were making my cock contract this time and, oh gods, that hurt so much!
“Easy,” Zenori said, looking me in the eye and massaging me. “Just let this happen.”
I nodded, feeling someone’s tentacles caressing my back and my own tentacles where I had them bunched beneath me. I tried to relax, unclench, and could when both eggs popped out. Finally, I could take a deep breath!
But the relief was short-lived because another egg was coming. Someone gripped my hand, and I opened my eyes to see Kit slouching in his chair.
“You can do it,” he said, sounding exhausted. “You’re almost done.”
Moving toward him, I tucked my face into his neck and cried out as that third egg neared freedom and the fourth started following it. I was stretched too wide and I’d have believed it ifZenori told me the eggs were covered in spikes. “I’ll never be able to use my cock again.”
Kit chuckled weakly. “Open your eyes. Look at the babies clinging to Zenori.”
I did. “Oh, look at them…”
“We’re totally going to do this again,” Kit said before he kissed my forehead.
That fourth egg left me, five in total, and I panted and whined, done now. Kit petted me, and I tried to give the same back to him, but I felt clumsy and more exhausted than when the elixir had been coursing through me. I watched from Kit’s chest as Zenori attached the last hatchling to their abdomen, and then leaned in to kiss me and Kit.
“Look what we’ve made,” Zenori whispered with a grin, one hand hovering over all of our children protectively.
My heart felt so big, but I had to tell them, “You’re amazing. The best mate ever.”
“Yes, I know.” They patted me and gave me a kiss.
Kit chuckled with me.
As was tradition, the hatchlings’ first meal was canned tuna handed out to them by each of us and their grandparents. I’d seen so many hatchlings over the years, but these weremineand I couldn’t get over the fact that I’d made them. It was a sentiment Kit shared because he kept saying, “We made babies. Real life babies of our very own.”
Zenori and I cuddled around Kit, using our tentacles to create a safe space for the hatchlings. Even the lagoon’s minuscule current seemed to be too much for them, so they usedtheir tentacles to walk along ours and across Kit’s belly or legs. He kept laughing when they’d tickle his hairs, fascinated by their human parent.
“Are you ready to name them?” Dad handed over another flake of tuna to a tiny hand.
I looked to Kit, Zenori doing the same. He’d asked if he could name them, and we’d agreed.
“Come here, babies,” he said and waved them onto his outstretched legs. They could hear him and understand, so they lined up and peered at him from just below the surface. He touched each little head and said, “Bramble, Aloe, Fennel, Oak, Sorrel, Yarrow, Clove, Thistle, and Juniper.”
“Plants,” Dad said on a chuckle.
“And not the scientific names,” I teased Kit.
Kit shrugged, blushing a bit. “I wanted gender-neutral names that were still kinda cool.”
“They are good names,” Zenori said before he leaned over and dipped underwater.
I could see them point to each hatchling, who squeaked their name. Bramble and Juniper said Bamble and Jiminper, but we’d work on that. Then all of them pointed at Zenori and said, “Zenzi!”
Zenori sat back up, laughing, and pointed at me. Every little finger also aimed my way, and I heard them say, “Hi-hi!”
“Aww…” I’d never had a nickname before, but here were my children giving me one.
“Zenzi and Hi-hi?” Kit asked. “Oh my god, that’s adorable.”
“Daddy!” they hollered with fingers pointed at Kit.
He covered his mouth and sobbed for a second before revealing a big smile as his sudden tears dripped down onto the water. “Yeah,” he kind of croaked, “I’m your daddy and I love you allso much.” He leaned into the water and kissed each little face.
I missed seeing who said they were tired, but then two agreed and four yawned one after the next. I pointed behind Dad to where the playpen waited on the grass. “Dad, can I have the playpen?”
