Lena was at first amused by my predicament, then sympathetic, but I knew better than to try and force the issue; her insides had taken quite a jumbling and she needed to recover, and the clinical, detached doctor inside me agreed wholeheartedly with the timescale; trouble was, the horny husband-with-needs in there right alongside him disagreed vehemently and spent the long and restless nights baying for her.
Finally, one night, Lena took pity on me, realising I was keyed-up to an almost impossible pitch. The baby was sleeping soundly in his cot next to the bed, and Lena was fast asleep against me, poor girl, obviously tired out, her arm thrown across my chest, and the scent of her hair filling my nostrils. These days she always smelled delicious; a delicate milky bouquet with overtones of baby oil, baby shampoo, and talcum powder always accompanying her, a sweet and tempting combination, and, as usual, I was in a state of frustrated arousal; my head was, as usual, filled with memories and fantasies of the wild and enormously satisfying sex we had indulged in during early days of her pregnancy, and Rosy Palm and her five daughters just weren’t cutting it; I was becoming convinced I was actually going out of my mind with sexual frustration. It was while I was having thoughts like this that Lena shifted, her arm sliding off me and her hand coming to rest flat on my stomach, the edge of her palm just brushing my ever-present erection.
I paid it no mind, and then I felt her hand moving, slowly stealing southward, until she was gently but firmly holding me. As she began to slowly fist my erection, I closed my eyes in ecstasy; I’d done this to myself often enough, but having her do it was a next-level experience. As she squeezed and pumped me she lightly kissed and nibbled my chest, eventually circling my nipple with her tongue before slowly sucking it and gently scraping it with her teeth. All through this she never said a word, her lips and tongue, and her pumping hand all the communication we needed. Then she began kissing down my torso, rubbing her tongue through the hairs on my chest and down my abdomen, poking her tongue into my navel and making me gasp with the sensation. Her lips continued to move further down my midsection, until at last I could feel her warm breath on the head of my cock as she continued to pump and squeeze me. I felt her raise her head and I did likewise, to look into her eyes as she smiled serenely at me.
“I love you, Dar!” she whispered, and slowly slid her lips over the head of my stone-hard cock. I groaned softly at the sensation of wet heat as her soft, hot mouth engulfed me, the feel of her tongue as she licked around and under the head while she sucked me almost indescribable. As she sucked and licked me, she began gently squeezing my scrotum, massaging my balls while she slowly sucked my cock, engulfing the head in hot, slippery succulence.
I couldn’t possibly last long like this; the pressure had been almost unbearable before, now, the need to empty myself into her was steadily outvoting all my attempts to hold back, to savour the experience. Lena seemed to know exactly what was going through my mind, as her squeezing of my balls became more urgent, her suckling of me more intense as she did her best to bring me off.
I came with a long, soft, growling moan, mindful of the sleeping infant a few feet away, but the orgasm was no less intense for that, all my nerve-endings seeming to sparkle in one huge rush of crackling energy as what felt like a gallon of sperm blasted out of me and into her hot, receptive mouth. Lena sucked and swallowed as fast as I ejaculated, jet after jet of spunk barrelling out of me, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked and swallowed avidly, her eyes locked on mine as she pleasured me so completely.
At last I slumped back, drained and truly satisfied, all the pressure and frustrations of the last few days wiped away by my beautiful girl and her talented mouth. Lena gave one last lick as she polished the last traces of spunk from my cock-head and slid up next to me to plant a kiss directly on my lips as she leaned up and smiled down at me.
“Dar, you are so silly, and so sweet!” she whispered. “All you had to do was ask, you know! I’ve been watching you suffer so nobly, when all you had to do was ask. Thank you for thinking it would be wrong to ask me to help you out when I’d only just had a baby, but I would have, like a shot; I love you, you silly arse, and you needed me! From now on, until we can resume rumpy-pumpy proper, if you need some help, just say so; I’ll never turn you away, Dar, no matter what!”
As she leaned down to kiss me again, I gathered her into me, one thought resonating inside me; how did I ever end up deserving a wonderful girl like this? I fell asleep, proper sleep, for the first time in days, that unique painless agony finally relieved, with the feel of Lena softly breathing against my neck as I held her close. Sometime during the night I felt her stir, and listened, half awake, to the unmistakeable, beautiful sounds of a tiny child feeding contentedly at his mother’s breast. I fell asleep again, a happy and fulfilled father, listening to the love of my life nourish our baby with her body.
I awoke to see Lena once again nursing the baby, his tiny, perfect little lips working as he suckled, his eyes fixed on his mother. David had green eyes, like me, and they were fixed intently on his mother, two tiny emeralds in the bluish orbs of his eyes. I know his eyesight was disorganised and still incapable of resolving anything much at this early stage, but some instinct made him fix his stare on his mother as he nursed, somehow he knew she was his world, for now, and I enjoyed watching Lena looking back into his eyes just as intently, boundless love and fierce protectiveness radiating off her. As I stirred she reached over to gently brush her fingers along my cheek without taking her eyes off the baby, including me in the moment as our baby fed.
I showered, shaved and dressed while Lena finished nursing and put him down to sleep, then signalled me to follow her into the other room. We stood in the doorway across the corridor opposite the bedroom, so Lena could watch the baby’s cot while we talked in low voices.
“Darryl, we need to go and see daddy; I keep getting the feeling something’s going to happen soon, and… I don’t know, but I have to see daddy very soon. Dar, get some tickets, the baby can travel after a week, so get them for early next week. Please Darryl, I don’t know how I know, I just know, I have to see daddy again, before… before it’s…!” she started crying. Of course I agreed; I hadn’t wanted to say anything, but I had been feeling that same need to see and touch my father again, to hold him while he held my child, and along with that a growing feeling I couldn’t shake, a premonition that time was fast running out for my dad. Lena clung to me as her tears boiled up, until she was crying in great sobbing bursts, a paroxysm of grief and loss, but one I understood completely; she could feel it as well and as sharply as I could, that we were close to losing dad, and we needed to be with him. I knew that her emotions were in turmoil right now, as her hormones ran riot inside her following the birth, but I could tell this was more than just post-baby blues; I could feel it too, and I had been feeling it for several days now, trying and not succeeding to dismiss it as just new father jitters. Lena stopped crying, but she kept her face still buried in my shirt front, and when I handed her my handkerchief she stroked my cheek as she took it from me.
“Book seats for all of us, Dar, Lizzie and the children need to come as well, daddy will want to see them again…”
To hear was to obey, and after a quick conversation with Lizzie I called the Travel Agent and booked the flights for the following Monday, four days hence and 10 days after the birth. I made a quick call to the Obstetrics Clinic and confirmed David would be safe to fly, and set about making preparations for our flights.