Nursing Myself Back

Home > Romance > Nursing Myself Back > Page 22
Nursing Myself Back Page 22

by Kara Liane


  “Umm, and why wouldn’t we need one?” I inquire while I bite her nipple through the fabric.

  “Ahhh,” is what she says, then follows it up with some garbled sounds as I gently tug at that same nipple that’s between my teeth.

  “Let me make you feel good sweetness,” I tell her.

  I get a moan as a form of a response, which is good enough for me. I leave her top and bra on, but remove the leggings and panties she’s wearing. I don’t hear any movement in the house, so if she’s quiet enough, and I’m quick about my work, we’ll have an explosion before anyone would be alerted.

  I don’t waste any time going to town on her pussy. It’s wet and ready for me. I stick my tongue in her tight hole and massage her clit with my fingers. She’s already losing her mind; she’ll come quickly, that’s for sure. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this turned on this fast. I alternate squeezing each tit while I’m at it.

  “God, you taste so good. I could eat at you all night. Fuck the cookies, this is better than anything you could serve me,” I say in between licks of her pretty, pink, juicy cunt.

  “Mmm,” is her only reply.

  All her sounds drive me wild. Her smell liberates me. Her taste destroys me.

  She. Is. Perfect!

  And she’s almost there! I flick my tongue at her engorged clit a few more times and then blow on it. She arches up off the couch, putting a throw pillow over her face to stifle her cries of passion. I insert two fingers, hooking them to rub at her spot, and she loses it all over my hand.

  I keep flicking her clit, though, so she can ride it out and come down from her high. I’ll have to adjust myself in a minute because my cock is painfully pressed into my slacks, and my balls are in need of rearranging to alleviate the intensity. But she comes first—well, you know what I mean, her needs come first.

  She finally stops gyrating her hips, and it looks like she passes out when her arms flop to the sides. She’s no longer clutching the pillow to her face—it’s more or less sitting atop, freely balancing.

  “I don’t think I can move,” I believe is what she says, but it’s difficult to hear with her face covered.

  I put her panties and leggings back on. Those leggings are a bitch to maneuver even on her tiny body, but I do it. She hasn’t moved or said a word. I think she’s asleep. I remove the pillow from her face, and sure enough, I can hear her soft snores.

  The timer for the oven goes off, and she flinches and mumbles something. I tell her I’ll get it, and she yawns her thanks.

  I go into the kitchen to turn off the oven and timer, but not before washing my hands and face in the sink. Then, I remove the cookie sheet and put it on the cooling rack she set out. I return to the couch. I place my hands under her slight frame and lift her, holding her to my chest and nuzzling her head as I carry her up to her room.

  I put her to bed, and she doesn’t even stir. Once she’s tucked in snugly, I kiss her lips. Before I turn off the light on the nightstand, I notice the bracelet I gave her next to the lamp. It delights me to see it there. It must have replaced the urn because that’s nowhere in sight now. I hope she’ll put my gift back on again soon. It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s the closest thing I’ll get right now.

  I turn out the light and exit the room. All the lights are out in the other rooms, so I assume the kids are also asleep. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable or come off as creepy should anyone happen to wake up, but I feel this fatherly need to check on the kids. I stick my head in to check each of their rooms, and all three are sound asleep.

  I head downstairs and proceed to clean up the kitchen by putting the ingredients away. The cookies are still warm, but a handful will be good enough to travel home with me. I wrap them up and head out the front door. I lock up and put the key back where Alexi told me I could find it. I would’ve broken the damn door down that day to get to Liz if I had to, but I’m glad my friend shared the key’s location.

  As I walk to my car with my mint chocolate treats, I think I’m ready to finally look at my horoscope again when I get home.

  Chapter 26: Getting Hitched

  Caleb

  June 15, 2018

  And so things continued just like that for these last four and a half weeks. I’d go over to Liz’s and visit, have dinner, watch movies, basically hang out. She wouldn’t come to my place, but it didn’t bother me.

  Occasionally, we’d perform some oral treatment on one another, but I still didn’t push her for sex. I’d eventually work my way up to that, but I was trying to stick to this friends thing as best I could. I guess we’re in limbo at that friends with benefits stage. If she would have told me no to doing anything sexual, I would have honored that. The trouble is, I think we both have this unspoken understanding that we can’t keep our hands off each other no matter how slow we want to go.

  I noticed she did start wearing the bracelet after that night with the mint chocolate chip cookies. I never commented on it when I saw her two days later because I didn’t want to scare her and have it result in her removing it again. Knowing it’s on her is enough.

  I’ve been reading my horoscope each day now. Today is definitely my favorite.

  Virgo

  Love is in the air. Something you’ve been putting off is finally ready to be put into action. Don’t be afraid to let the stars align in your house. Look to the moon when in doubt, and shift your priorities accordingly. There may be a surprise in store!

  Your lucky number is 7.

  So, I’m going to put my plan into action.

  ***

  Liezel

  “How’d you like to go camping?” Caleb asks.

  Well, I’m camped out on my living room couch reading a steamy romance book right now. Or, rather, I was until Caleb called—does that count?

  I set my book down, and he has my attention. The kids are out back playing football together. I would join them, but for obvious reasons, I can’t tell them why they can’t tackle me to the ground.

  I laugh and reply, “Umm, okay when and where?”

  “How about now, and to Hershey?” He remarks as if it’s obvious.

  “I’d have to dig our tent out. It’s already five o’clock. I don’t want to set up a tent in the dark. I’m sorry, maybe some other weekend,” I tell him reluctantly.

  I’m a little bummed because I would totally go, but it’s not ideal tonight to drive two hours. Plus, I seriously have to dig out all my camping gear.

  “Sweetness, I want to take you to the saaaaweeeetest city on earth. I’m sure you’ve been there plenty of times. But you’ve never been with me! And I’m going to sweeten the deal,” he explains.

  Okay, now my interest is piqued to full scale.

  “Whoa, there. You’re sure putting a lot of sweet talk into this, aren’t you?” I laugh at my own pun since he’s overdoing it with that word.

  “What if I told you I bought a new truck and a family camper?” He divulges.

  “Then I’d say either you’re nuts, or that’s a lame joke,” I convey.

  “Well, then I guess I’m nuts because I’m certainly not lame,” he comes back with.

  “Oh. My. God. You didn’t!” I squeal half from excitement, half from bewilderment.

  “Oh, I sure did. You all need to pack two days’ worth of stuff, and we’ll get on the road. We’ll worry about groceries when we get there. There’s not too much involved with setting up the camper, but I do want enough daylight since I got a crash course only an hour ago at the dealership,” he explains with the most elated tone to his voice.

  “Okay, I can tell the kids. When will you be here?” I ask as I’m still surprised by all this.

  He’s spontaneous and adorable and…this is crazy, right?

  He chuckles once again and replies, “Sweetness, I’m right out front.”

  ***

  We made good time getting into Hershey. On the drive up, I was plagued with guilt over still not telling him about the twins—don’t hate me
for it, I’m definitely telling him.

  As unrealistic as it may seem, I’m lucky I don’t start showing until I’m well into my second trimester. It’s been that way with the previous three pregnancies; every woman certainly carries differently. I’m shocked that these two tiny peanuts haven’t given me away. Even the little roundness to my tummy has yet to be revealed since we’ve been performing oral sex on one another—we’ve stayed fully clothed for the most part.

  He finally pulls us into a well-kept RV campground. His truck is magnificent. It’s a midnight-blue color, decked out with all the bells and whistles. Those gadgets came in handy when pulling into the site—the backup camera, towing option, and blind spot sensors made it a breeze. He explained to me that hitching it up can be the trickiest thing because it’s all about precision, and then unhitching can be difficult if everything’s not lined up properly.

  He kept talking about the load, leveling the camper, and making sure there’s no sway, and blah blah blah. I don’t really get it. This is another one of those things that guys seem to automatically know. A tent is good enough for me, but I admit it feels good to go “glamping.”

  The camper is awesome! It’s a gray color with black striped accents. I’ll refer to it as a she because that’s what Caleb keeps saying. So, she is thirty-three feet long with two slide-outs. The boys have to share a room in the back that has twin bunks with a seating area under one bunk and storage compartments under the other. Caleb said it’s called a bunk-house feature.

  Then Leah is going to sleep either on the pull-out couch, or the kitchen table, which turns into a bed. There’s a cute little bathroom, a full kitchen with small-scale appliances, and then Caleb and I will be sharing a queen-sized bed in the front bedroom.

  I was a little nervous of what the kids would think, but they didn’t seem freaked out when they figured out the sleeping arrangements on their own. I probably don’t give them enough credit.

  There’s also a big screen TV and electric fireplace to complete the traveling-in-style component. It doesn’t even feel like camping in this thing, but Caleb argued, “This is the new way to camp.” I rolled my eyes at him when he said that.

  My favorite part of the camper has to be the exterior. It has an outdoor grill with a TV inside. And the awning has these amazing multi-colored LED rope lights that give off just enough glow and look dazzling.

  He did ask me on the way up if I was mad that he made the purchase. I will confess, I thought it was a little too presumptuous of him to buy this thing. I didn’t want to be pressured into something. And then I had to stop myself because I still haven’t told him about the babies, so how unfair of me to decide what’s too presumptuous. Maybe this little trip is what we need, so I can finally tell him this weekend.

  Once the camper was unhitched, we went to the nearest grocery store to stock up on essentials. Now, we’re sitting down to dinner at the picnic table that came with the campsite, and we’re enjoying the steaks Caleb grilled up. We’ll get a fire going later.

  After dinner, Caleb and I walk hand in hand with the kids down to the campground’s little general store. We start browsing around the shop. I let Leah get a pack of marshmallows since we forgot to grab them at the supermarket. The boys don’t want anything, so we’re moseying around, looking at the merchandise.

  Caleb comes up behind me and says, “I’m definitely getting this for the camper!”

  It’s one of those corny bumper stickers, but I immediately love it as my face splits into a grin. It reads, My Travel Trailer is Bigger Than Yours!

  I look into his eyes, and he and I both know that if we were alone, he’d make this into some kind of sexual reference. I know exactly what he’s packing under those pants, and I know exactly how big it is. I’ve had it in my mouth several times over the weeks. God, I can’t wait to have him in me again one of these days—but wishy-washy me likes that we’re not jumping right into bed. It’s like rediscovering each other all over again.

  “By the way, what should we call her?” He asks nonchalantly.

  I give him a funny look, not quite getting what he’s referring to—somewhat panicked thinking he’s talking about these secret babies, but I don’t even know their genders. So, I reply, “Huh?”

  “The camper. What should we call her?” He acts as if it was obvious.

  Whew, okay that HER, I’d already forgotten about the camper’s designated gender. I start laughing, “Oh, hmm. I don’t know. It’s not like a ship where you have to christen her, is it?”

  “No, but I thought it’d be fun!” His face beams at his suggestion.

  “Well, I’m plum fresh out of ideas.” I shrug.

  “I was thinking The Sweetness Express,” he says and waggles his brows while waving his hand as if he can see it in lights on Broadway or something.

  I swat at his arm and roll my eyes as I tease, “How original.”

  ***

  It’s after ten o’clock. The campfire has to be extinguished by eleven, then quiet hours are from midnight to six in the morning. I would know because I read the brochure for this place from cover to cover.

  Caleb and I watch as the last of the embers are starting to flicker and the wood glows red. We’re not adding any more logs. The kids have gone to bed. I have a blanket wrapped around my shoulders as I sit in the camping chair and stare at the dying flames.

  We’re both quiet. It was noisy when we were roasting marshmallows and telling stories. Now, it’s silent. Now, it’s just us. Do I tell him right now about this pregnancy? I probably should because we’ll have to keep our voices low, so if there’s any yelling involved, then it will be kept to a minimum. I don’t know which side of the fence he’ll be on—anger or joy, or a combination of both? I want to be able to tell my kids soon and Caleb has a right to know first.

  I don’t know how you kick off this type of conversation. Should I blurt it out? Should I ask how he feels about being a father? Do I make a joke?

  I swallow hard, needing to get this final secret out in the open. Then I can be free once and for all.

  ***

  Caleb

  This was the best idea I’ve ever had. We needed this. I needed for her to see us as a family and how it can work with the five of us. I think I’m winning her over each day. All the walls are down. There’s nothing left to do but break through to her heart. I think I’ve punched a hole in it; I just need to get all the way in.

  She looks so damn beautiful in the glow of the fire as it’s dwindling down. We’re sitting on opposite sides, and I can admire her beauty from here. I can’t explain it. It’s like the last several weeks have put life back into her. Our relationship is blooming the way it should be.

  See, I told you she’s my unicorn!

  I know it deep in my bones. I know she’ll be my wife someday. I know we’ll grow our family one day too.

  “You look deep in thought, sweetness,” I comment.

  Her brows are knit together, and she’s chewing on her bottom lip as if she’s contemplating something. I’m going to think positive thoughts and not have an irrational fear that she’s about to dump me. Well, technically, she can’t dump me since we’re not officially dating—always these technicalities—but that’s not the point. I don’t want to be ousted from her life again.

  She’s nervous when she begins, “I…I…I have to tell you something.”

  “You can tell me anything.” I mean it, and I’m remaining calm, cool, and collected so she’s not leery of whatever it is she needs to disclose.

  Sure, on one hand I’m terrified there’s another secret that could rip her away from me, but on the other hand, I need to know. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING will ever change how and what I feel for her; however, we can’t have anything unresolved between us.

  She closes her lids and licks her lips. Fuck! This must be serious. Now my heart is racing. What can she possibly have to say?

  “Remember that day when I told you I had to force myself to eat?” She looks at me
pointedly to make sure I’m with her.

  I nod to show I’m following. But I’m scared. Jesus Christ, what could this be about? Does she have cancer or something? Am I going to lose her before I even have her?

  She licks her lips again and continues, “And remember when I told you that one night that you didn’t need to wear a condom? Even though we didn’t end up having sex….”

  I nod again. Where is this going? I know my eyes are roving as my brain tries to recall these instances and also make sense of this line of questioning.

  And then it makes perfect sense. Dare I hope? Dare I put all my eggs in one basket and believe the damn horoscope was right that I have a surprise on the horizon? A surprise little one on the way perhaps? I can see she’s waiting for me to ask. Fuck, I don’t want to be wrong!

  Please don’t be wrong….

  “Are you…are you pregnant, Liz?” I wait with bated breath.

  She looks me right in the eyes, and I try to slow my heart so I can hear—my eardrums feel like they’re pumping in time with the organ in my chest making my auditory abilities difficult.

  “Yes,” she replies.

  And it’s like my life flashes before my eyes—not one brought on by death, but one brought on by a miracle. In an instant, I see myself running in a huge field with my blonde-headed child as Liz sits on a picnic blanket, smiling away, watching the spectacle before her.

  I start to tear up, and I stand so abruptly that my camping chair falls back to the ground. I rush to her side, crouching down so I can place my head in her lap. My face is turned so I can administer a soft kiss to her belly and move my hand, so it’s splayed across the area where our child lies. I can’t believe there’s life in there, life that both she and I created. Amazing!

 

‹ Prev