The more he thrusts, the looser and wetter I become. I want to hold on to him and never let him go. It's like he’s taking the time to be gentle with me and focus on my pleasure.
I reach for him even more and wrap my arms tight around him, even though my nipples instantly miss his touch. But I love feeling his hard, muscular body up against mine. That's what I had always dreamed of doing when I was making love.
He moans and pulls me close to him. I can feel that I’m about to cum, and I can’t help but let myself go with him.
I cry out, “Yes, oh yes! Mmmm.”
This obviously excites him, and he thrusts deeper. I moan out his name and he tightens his hold on me. I can feel our bodies shuddering as we cum together.
I have never experienced anything like this before. I feel weak and emotional. He lets me lay there in his arms for a few minutes. Gradually, I recover and after a little while, my wild and crazy emotions calm themselves. I feel something that I have never felt before.
I feel amazing and genuinely happy. I don't want these feelings to end. Derek sits up in bed and looks at me. I'm surprised again when he asks if I really need to go home.
I feel then that I need to be completely honest with him, so I tell him, "I have a son. He’s waiting for me at home. I'm sorry for not mentioning it to you earlier. I was just worried and a little scared."
I’m still scared – that I ruined everything between us while it was just getting started. I could tell that this wasn’t just about physical pleasure – we have a real emotional bond, and I should have been completely honest with him sooner. I hope he can understand.
He reaches for my hand and holds it.
"It’s fine. I want to take care of you and your son. To be perfectly honest, I don’t want to let you out of my life now that I’ve just met you. I will do whatever it takes to keep you happy and with me," he says. “I know it’s fast, and seems crazy, but I believe that something was telling me I was going to meet you. My life was not making me happy, and now I feel… happy. I don’t want to let you go now that I have you. Ever.”
His words seem to take us both by surprise, but I think we are both glad that they were said. We sit there quietly a few moments. Finally, I look over and smile at him. He seems puzzled but smiles back at me.
I squeeze his hand softly and tell him, "You have made all my dreams come true. I’m going to have the happiest Mother’s Day ever tomorrow, and it’s all because of you."
His smile gets even bigger and I think he even starts to blush a little.
Eventually, he says, "No, it’s all because you’re so wonderful."
I smile at him. He lets go of my hand and pulls me back into bed. We lay there cuddling and kissing and giggling like two teenagers. I smile to myself and think that this is the way it’s supposed to be.
Chapter 9 Jocelyn
It’s Mother’s Day and I couldn’t have asked for a better one. Aunt Barbara, Maxim and I are at the park. Maxim loved swinging and now we’re having a picnic – although Maxim is only eating his normal diet of breastmilk and fruit pouches.
“Here, I brought you a gift,” Aunt Barbara says, taking a small box out of her purse.
“And I brought you a gift!” I laugh, reaching into Maxim’s diaper bag to find it.
We smile as we open each other’s gifts, only to find that we’d gotten each other pretty much the same thing – silver necklaces. The one I got her is in the shape of a heart, and the one she got me is in the shape of a bird, because Maxim loves a nursery song about a bird that goes, “tweet, tweet, tweet” until the baby falls asleep.
“This is perfect!” we both exclaim at once. Then, laughing, we add, “How did you know?”
I can’t believe how my Aunt Barbara and I have become so in sync so quickly. It’s like we’re sisters, instead of her and my mom.
As if reading my thoughts, she says, “I know it’s an important day for you – your first mother’s day – and I think it’s sad my sister isn’t participating, so I wanted to make sure it would be special.”
“It really is,” I tell her. “And I so appreciate all your help with Maxim. I know that you’re like a second mom to him, and we both really appreciate it.”
“It’s so sweet that you’d say that,” she says, tearing up. “I do view him as like a son to me, and it makes me mad that…”
She drifts off, until I look at her and say, “What? It’s okay; you can tell me.”
“…that I was never able to have kids of my own and my sister was, and yet she treats her own kid and grandkid like shit. Life doesn’t seem fair, sometimes.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Barb,” I tell her, taking her hand in mine. “I didn’t know that. I just thought you hadn’t found the right guy to have a family with yet. You’re still young!”
She’s my mom’s younger sister by quite a bit – Uncle Bob is in between them, as well as another brother, Uncle Steve, who lives somewhere in Chicago or somewhere, and with whom no one keeps in touch. My mom had me young herself – a fact she never failed to bitterly remind me of – and so
