Motel Summer Ch. 01: Baby Monitor

And she whispered, vulgarly, thrillingly, "That's right, lover. Fuck your child into me. Make me cry your name at night in the throes of passion. Make me remember the heat of your seed dripping down my legs from where you planted it. Give me a memory of you shooting off, steamy hot, inside me."

We moved faster, our passion building up. To hold back, I replied, "Yes, Sara. Fuck my child into your womb. Draw out my sweet passion. Make me think every night of how our lust's perfect reward is weighing your belly down. Give me a memory of wearing your fertile wetness on my spent rod."

She did her best to speed my slipping into oblivion, tightening her insides, meeting each stroke. The bed squeaked lightly, and she moaned in time to our beat. Her tits, heavy with a mother's milk, bounced faster and harder as our tempo picked up.

"Claim me. Claim me, Cal. Never let me be free of your need. Use your desire and make me your mate, your brood mare. Put it all in me, baby."

I felt myself starting to swell. I could see in her reaction that she knew it.

"Uh. Uh. Uh. Ooooh!" she intoned. "Put it in me, baby. I want it."

I put it in her. I throbbed into her loins and felt them grow hot and wet. I felt the sweat over both our bodies. I felt the way, all animal, I pushed and foraged deeper and deeper inside. And then we were laying together. I kissed her, her upper lip damp with sweat.

We dozed a bit. After midnight, Becky made fussy noises and seemed to wake up. I got up and, finding her diaper wet, changed it from the setup sitting there. She was still fussy, probably from the heat, which was unrelenting. I patted her and rocked her. Finally she drifted off and I was able to put her down.

Sliding back into bed, I was greeted by a sleepy pair of arms.

"Mmm. A good father," she mumbled. I gave her a kiss and snuggled in to try and sleep. Sara's body radiated heat and my mind turned over the events of the day. Was I laying in our conception bed? I could feel the damp spot where our cum had leaked out.

She sleepily reached for me in the dark. I kissed her. Our touches were languid, halfway between sleep and wakefulness. Our bodies wanted rest, but there was desire there as well, the knowledge of a short window of time. I felt like my soul wanted to dance. I wondered what she was feeling...

"I'm thinking about it too," she whispered, sensing my wakefulness. "We were so bad! You making love to a fallen woman." We kissed. "Me making love to a stranger in a motel, just feet from my daughter." We kissed again. "As hard as it would be, will be, in this moment, I want our child."

Our hands were exploring, touching. I felt the stiff ridge of her hip bone, the gentle sway of her belly, the furriness of her mound. She felt the strength of my pectorals, the flatness of my buns, the gentle droop of my cock, late to the party but waking to the dance.

"In the morning, I can't change anything. We have to go. Give me something to remember." She mounted me again, as she had earlier. Only this time, I shifted her legs out in front of her and sat up, my shaft buried inside her. We were like that a long time, kissing and enjoying being joined, every little move a provocation, a reward. We were just starting to build towards something more searing and energetic, when she paused and a strange look came over her face.

"I felt it again, on the other side!"

"The pinch?"

She smiled and whispered, "I wonder how I'll explain twins."

Afterwards, we slept. When I woke in the morning, Sara was up already. There were feedings and diapers and showers and packing. All too soon everything was packed up and they were in the car, ready to depart. I couldn't kiss her in front of Amanda, so I read her some Sappho.

Celestial visitant, once more

Thy needful presence I implore.

In pity come, and ease my grief,

Bring my distempered soul relief,

Favor thy suppliant's hidden fires,

And give me all my heart desires.

They drove away and I went back to Victorian poets longing for skylarks and such. I had given her my number, but she didn't text until a few days later. Then it was just "Made it okay". I texted her back, but got no response.

And then a long time passed. I didn't forget Sara. I couldn't. But the calendar crept around. Summer ended and I moved back into the house. Fall session was full of engineering courses and math homework. I texted Sara a couple of times, but there was no reply. Then winter break and this time I went home to family.

In late February, in the middle of the night, I got a mysterious text from a Portland number I didn't know.

Half the long night is spent, and yet I lie alone.

I texted back "Sara?" There was no reply.

On the ninth of March, in the middle of code, yet sunny Sunday morning, my phone rang from the Portland number. With some trepidation, I picked it up.

"Cal?" came a woman's voice, although the connection was poor.

"Yes, speaking."

"Your daughters were born two days ago. I'll need help with their names."