We keep trying to hear the baby’s heartbeat at least a couple of times a week, and it’s the night before my scheduled doctor’s appointment during my eighth week of pregnancy when we finally hear the faint swishing sound we’ve been aching to hear. I gasp in surprise when I realize that what I’m hearing is real, and pull the headphones off with one hand and give them to my husband, while I keep the monitor as still as possible so he can hear it too. I watch his face, and can tell by the way it lights up that he hears it, and my grin widens until I’m sure my face is about to crack.
I lean over and kiss him, and begin making my way down his chest, keeping the monitor securely on my stomach as I go. He pulls off the headphones when I reach his waist with my lips, and takes the monitor away from me to put it on the nightstand. I know he and I both want to celebrate, and he slides us down until we’re both laying beside each other on the bed.
“I love you,” he practically bursts out saying, while his fingers run through my hair. Before I can answer, his lips capture mine and take my breath away with his passionate kiss, until he lets go and moves to my neck. His lips follow his hands as they leave a burning trail down my body, but when his hand reaches my hip, he kisses my lips again, exploring my mouth with his tongue. I roll on my back slightly so that his hand slides toward my center.
His fingers fondle the hair between my legs. “Touch me,” I whisper hoarsely. His eyes watch mine as he fingers my clit, and I throw my head back with my eyes closed at the sensation. But I need to feel him. My insides are aching for his touch, so I push his hand even lower while I spread my legs so he can reach me easier.
He hesitates, and says, “Are you sure it’s okay?”
“The baby?” I ask, the waves of need getting ever stronger.
He nods slightly, with a twinge of worry in his eyes.
I reach my hand up to graze his cheek and smile, loving him just so much. “Nothing we do will hurt the baby.” I run my hand back down to his, and guide his two fingers inside me, gasping at the intense feeling of exhilaration it gives me.
My moans echo in the room as his fingers plunge inside of me, although I can tell he’s being more gentle than he has in times past. But I don’t want to begrudge him the worry he feels for his child, and I just enjoy it. After all, he’s never been a father before, and I’m sure the worry he feels is instinctual—just like he felt for me on every mission I went on since we met, causing him to lose sleep. The love I feel swells my heart, and my eyes mist as we stare at each other.
As he continues with his gentle assault, I run my hand along his shaft, caressing the stiffened erection like a monument. He feels harder with each stroke, and after only a couple of minutes, he slides his fingers out, rolls me on my back all the way, and lays between my legs. “I need you, Syd,” he confesses, while he lifts my thigh, teasing my wetness with his tip.
I respond by spreading my legs in acceptance, and rubbing my feet against his calves. He enters slowly, and I know that his reason is not hesitation, but the fact that he’s already so close that any quick movement would make him release too soon. I let him set the pace at first, as he forces his body to adjust to the feeling of being inside of me. He soon starts his round of gentle thrusts, feeling each of my clenches as my inner muscles react to the orgasm that’s starting to build within me.
It doesn’t take me long to reach it, considering he spent a few minutes during our foreplay teasing and caressing my clit, getting me halfway there before he even entered me. I close my eyes and yell out an “oh” when I’m there, and two more thrusts and he spills into me, hugging me with his arms under my shoulders, and his hands holding my face. He spends the time that I’m still and my body is clenching with the orgasm, kissing my face, ending with a thorough kiss on the lips when I can move again.
“God, it’s so good,” he tells me in a guttural whisper.
“I know,” I answer breathlessly. “Each time is like the first time. It never gets old and it just feels…so good,” I repeat, unable to come up with any other word to describe it just then. I run my feet up to his thighs, feeling the wetness from both of us oozing between us. Surprisingly, it’s not gross, but a physical reminder of the love we share. As we separate, and he rolls off and slips out of me, turning us until we’re spooning, I can still feel the moisture between my legs, and it makes me smile.
As his hand cups my breast as we get comfortable to go to sleep, I whisper, “I love you, too,” remembering I’d never gotten a chance to return it earlier when we’d started.
He responds with a snuggling kiss on my neck, hugging me tighter, and brings his other hand to rest on my stomach. “I love both of you.”
My doctor’s appointment the next day reveals what I already knew, that the baby was fine and developing properly, and I smile again when I hear its heartbeat. My next appointment is in four weeks.
“When do we find out what it is?” Michael asks that night during our dinner.
I look up and furrow my eyebrows. “I thought you’d want to be surprised.”
He shrugs. “Well, I do, but I guess I’m just impatient. I mean, we’ve got to wait another seven months you know.”
“I know,” I say quietly as I get another bottle of water from the fridge. “But, during all my years as a spy, I’m used to surprises, and I kind of miss them.” He nods in understanding, but one eyebrow is raised curiously and I know he’s wondering what point I’m trying to get at. I shrug a shoulder. “I think waiting to find out if we’re having a boy or girl will help to make life interesting again.”
He reaches across the table and rests his hand on mine. “Life as a housewife getting too boring for you?”
I laugh. “No,” I say pointedly, determined not to let myself get bored with it. “I just think it would be more fun to wait to see who’s going to be the first to join our family.”
“And what about names, and baby clothes, and how we decorate the room?”
“All neutral. And we’ll just make sure we have boys and girls names picked out and clothes ready.”
“You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”
I smile and nod. “For years. Since I fell for you.”
Over the past few weeks, I’ve gotten used to life as a housewife. After my ritual morning sickness, I help my husband get ready for work, pick out his suit for the day, and help him with his tie, even if he doesn’t need it. And every day, he leaves me with a lingering kiss—a promise for what he’ll be coming home to. Sex has become a nighttime activity only because I’m still too nauseated in the morning.
Until this morning.
I woke up dreading getting out of bed like I had every day for the last few weeks, knowing what was coming. I finally decide to get it over with, swing my feet to the floor, when I’m suddenly hit with the feeling of being fine. The nausea isn’t there, although I still have to go to the bathroom. I make my way slowly to the bathroom to relieve myself, wondering if the calm feeling in my stomach is going to change with the next step I take. Michael usually follows me after he hears me starting to retch, so I’m not really surprised when I come out of the bathroom to find him still asleep on the bed.
We still have about fifteen minutes before the alarm goes off, when I crawl back in bed beside him and just stare at him. I want to wake him up to tell him the good news, but yet I want to surprise him too. An idea comes to mind and I slowly slide the sheet off of his waist, down until his manhood is revealed.
A smile grows on my face when I see his semi-hardened penis, remembering how he told me once that he often wakes up in the morning with an erection because he’s dreaming about me. I position myself beside him, hovering over his thighs, being careful not to touch him, knowing that I’ll wake him before I even get started, and lean in to lick him lightly. I look up when I hear movement, and see his head turn to the other side. I give him another lick, and he straightens his leg a little more, and his erection grows. One more lick and I know he’ll wake up, so when I reach the tip this time, I take him into my mouth, and begin to suck. I hear him moan and feel him fidget beneath me, and I increase the sucking. His movements are becoming more frequent and I look up at his face, and see him peering out at me between his semi-closed eyelids, and a seductive grin grows on his face.
But I’m on a mission, so to speak, and I continue the sucks, until he’s moaning continually, pushing my head down further onto him. Soon his moans turn to throaty grunts, and I know he’s close, so I begin swallowing, knowing that’ll send him over the edge. It’s just enough and he starts to come and I swallow quickly, until I feel his pumping slow to a stop. When his erection begins to relax, I slowly let him slip out of my mouth, sucking on the tip for just a second, and then I swallow again, and wipe my mouth before I crawl to lay on top of him.
“Good morning,” I tell him with a smile.
He runs his hand under my hair and holds my neck. “Yes, it is. Shouldn’t you be feeling sick about now?” he asks with a confused smile. “I mean, not that I’m complaining,” he teases.
“I’m feeling fine this morning. It must be over. I just wanted to surprise you.”
He keeps his one hand on my neck while the other glides down my bare back. “Well, you definitely did that. Is there any way I can repay you?” he asks playfully with a glint in his eye.
My tone matches his as I lower my face to my lover for a kiss. “I’m sure I can think of something.”