A is for Aiden (Men of ALPHAbet Mountain)

Thrusting, I entered her, and she arched back again, her mouth locked open in an expression of the mixture of pain and pleasure. Her fingers grasped at the sheets and curled them up inside, and I rocked back to slam into her again. This time, her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she cried out again. I could feel her, rolling right from one climax to another, and I sped up to increase the sensation.

Her pussy tightened around my cock and squeezed as she came, and I only slowed when the panting screams slowed. Then we began to rock together, slowly, deliberately. I craved her, even while buried deep inside her, and I pulled her into my lap, gathering up her hair in one hand as I pressed her deep down onto my cock.

Daylight faded into the night as we pleasured each other with great attention to each other’s bodies. As I lay on the bed, my head rested on the pillow and my body covered in sweat, she bobbed up and down on me, taking the head deep into her throat. The feeling of her worshipping my body the way I had done for her brought a mutual ecstasy that I never felt before.

I pulled her gently on her chin, and she released me, climbing back onto me and sinking down deeply. I rolled her to her back, and her legs crossed behind me. Our fingers intertwined as I began to thrust deep into her. Her eyes rolled back again as I rocked harder and harder, the need for release overwhelming. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, and I cried out with a desperate moan, finding it matched by hers below me.

I exploded deep inside her, and she came with me, our bodies shaking and jerking and relishing in the release together. When I collapsed beside her, she curled into my arms, and we spoke of our future. Our love, our life, our baby. Then we slept, satisfied and dreaming of the glorious days to come.

And there were no more nightmares.

Epilogue

Desiree - Eight Months Later

I was getting to the point in my pregnancy where I was feeling really uncomfortable a good portion of the time. My hips ached from the tendons loosening, and I felt like I had no control over my legs anymore. The doctor told me the feeling was a good thing, and the process was important to make sure that I was able to give birth in the coming month.

That seemed all well and good, but when I was waddling around in a swerving pattern because I couldn’t get my legs under me properly, it didn’t sound quite as miraculous as she tried to make it out to be. Joining up ranks with my hips was my back and my ankles as my belly got bigger and my body got more tired of carrying the baby around.

But I kept telling myself it wasn’t going to be too much longer. That I needed to think about this as the incredible thing that it really was and realize there would come a day when I would miss this whole experience. I needed to cherish every minute and appreciate my body for the amazing feat it was accomplishing, even if it did come at the expense of the comfort and apparent structural integrity of my joints.

That sentiment meant I was spending more and more time in the shower and bath. The hot water was soothing, and I enjoyed the quiet away from the men checking on me nonstop. I knew it came from a good place in their hearts, and I loved them for it, but sometimes I really just needed some time away from it all.

That afternoon I was standing in the shower, letting the water stream down my spine, when a sudden tightening and sharp pain through my belly made my breath catch in my throat. I grasped my bump and took a breath to try to chase away the pain. I stayed for a few seconds, then lessened and went away. Startled by it, I went back to showering, washing my hair, and starting to wash the rest of me. A few minutes later, the pain came again.

I breathed my way through it and tried to remind myself of everything my doctor had told me about false labor during our last prenatal appointment. I’d gone through a few Braxton-Hicks contractions, and the doctor reassured me it was perfectly normal to experience bouts of false labor in the weeks leading up to the birth. She said to think of it as my body’s way of practicing for the big day and to just relax through it. I would know the difference when it came.

Repeating those words through my head, I finished bathing, then turned and plugged the bath. As I let the tub fill up with the water still streaming out of the showerhead, I lowered myself down to the floor of the tub and leaned back against the wall. Closing my eyes, I breathed my way through another of the pains.