One Night Only Ch. 03 - Final

"Well, looks like Gilbert makes the perfect fit." He looks at his son, with an accusing finger. "From today, I don't want to see your face around here no more."

My lower lip trembles. I find support on the furniture to stand up and face my husband. "If anyone is leaving, that someone is you," I say the words and press my indicator onto Steve's chest. "Understood?"

Steve looks into my eyes, and he understands alright. "You're not helping, Theresa. Mark needs to concentrate."

And I just want to slap him, hard, across the face. "Have you even asked Mark if he wants to play? It's your dream, not his."

"Don't drag me into this. But, life has been so much better without Gilbert nearby. I vouch for Dad, he needs to go."

"And I vouch for him. Test me again, and you'll both be sleeping in the streets." My huge belly is not going to take this bullying against my beloved.

The rest of the month goes somewhat lonely. Without Gilbert, back to the last leg of his internship, I kept myself busy knitting some cute clothes for the unborn. Made some friends in the neighborhood, but now that my belly is the size of New York, it gets complicated to leave the house.

"Bed rest Theresa. We should have made this happen already. You sure you want to wait?"

Yes. I need Gilbert to be present. I didn't say that, but it's the truth.

He will be arriving in the early hours of the day, before dawn. I want us to have one last night together, that's all I ask for.

Tomorrow, Steve and Mark will go to their game, still upset that I'm not going with them, despite my condition. And, after they leave, I will have a nice bath, which Gilbert will help me in because I know I don't trust myself in getting out of a water-filled tub, and then we will have a nice relaxed day. I've been craving him inside me one more time, and it will be my way of saying goodbye to him.

He needs to find someone to love. It can't be me.

The weather outside is terrible. Wind, strong rain, lightning. Steve and Mark don't go on their usual run, and I hear them talk in the living room. It's not like I can move at great speed, but by the time I get to them, to ask if they want a tea as I'm about to do one, I see Steve massaging Mark's back. Shirtless again. It's so innocent and yet, in my brain, I feel like they have been together for a long time now.

Just like me and Gilbert.

I return to the kitchen, in silence, and sit down, waiting for the kettle to boil. They pop in, looking for some water, and I ask if they are going out for their usual run.

"We'll just call it a night. Tomorrow morning the weather should clear. You sure you're not coming?"

I look at Steve, wishing I could slap him hard, so his brain would wire differently. I grab my mug, and make my way into my bedroom, closing the door behind me, just to realize I forgot the sugar.

If only Gilbert was here, I could ask him to go and grab me some, but with Steve that wouldn't happen. As I grab the door knob, I hear their voices in the corridor and wait for them to go inside their room, as I'm upset enough. I don't hear the door close, but I'm so heavy so I open the door ajar and my heart skips a beat.

They are kissing just by the entrance of Mark's room.

I want to close the door, but I can't. I need to watch it. I need to see my husband and my son sucking the soul of one another. Mark takes the lead, his muscles taking over my husband as if he was willing to lose a battle.

And just like that, Mark pulls him inside the bedroom, closing the door with his foot, leaving me alone and in despair.

If I wanted confirmation, then it was just served to be.

I tell myself, ignore it Theresa, it's just one step across intimacy. It means nothing. It means nothing, I repeated again, picking up the sugar and making my way back into my room again. And I stop by the doorway - clearly, it's more than intimacy.

I turn the corridor lights off, and open their door, just a fridge. There's a small light coming from one of their phones, and sometimes the lightning bathes the room in a snapshot of light.

They are more than intimate. My husband is on his knees, stealing moans from Mark. Is this how he helps with his anxiety? His mouth bobs up and down on a thick cock, and Mark has no problems pushing his face all the way down to his shaved pubs, aggressive, dominant, a pure jock adrenaline. He gets into the bed, pushes my husband with him, and Mark is kneeling on the bed, bending slightly down, showing massive thighs. I see Steve passing his hands on Mark's muscles, murmuring a few fucks, and leaning forward, he resumes slurping his cock, gagging a few times while doing so, which only makes Mark be even more aggressive.

Is this what they do on their night runs?

"Fuck yes Dad, be a good bitch!"

I'm shocked.

And then Mark slaps him in the face, as he buries his cock down his throat. My husband gags, and he finally lets him free, spooning the drool from his face, and using it as lube.

My belly starts to ache as I see them in love and lust.

I thought it was Steve that was fucking Mark, but seems their dynamic is different.

And Mark has no trouble entering his dad. He slides in, as this is part of their training routine, making Steve moan and call for his name, whimpering his face down on the pillow. Unforgiving. Ruthless. Rough. There's no kindness there.

Just the way Steve likes it.

And a hand touches my shoulder. Gilbert is home. And he closes the door.

"Come, leave them be."

And I follow him into my bedroom, to drink my tea.

My hands are shaking. I can still hear Steve's moans, and the bed against the wall, and then a silence falls over the house. Gilbert is hugging me, gently kissing my belly, my hands, and my tears.

"It's not what it looks like, Mom," he says. But I look back at him.

"I think it is exactly what it looks like Gilbert. Don't try to sugarcoat it, we did exactly the same, didn't we?"

"They started it."

I caress his hair, thick as his father's, and tell him to let it be. There are no innocents in here, from the moment we slept together for the first night.

"It should have been one night only, my beloved son."

He looks at me with big lustful eyes. "Do you regret it?"

"No. Not a single moment. You made me feel alive."

"You made me a man," he replies, kissing me on the lips. A soft kiss, bringing the memories of our first night together.

I finish my tea, and I tell him my plans of having a bath, and he prepares the tub for me. Then, he undresses me in the toilet, kissing each part of my body, sitting me down, undressing, and showing me how hard he gets around my pregnant body. "Tonight is all about you." He helps me enter the tub, and sits me down on the ledge, back against the cold wall, and opens my legs. He takes pleasure in it. I see his submerged body, his strong muscles, and perky ass-like islands, and he makes me a new woman, getting my cunt begging for him inside me. He says he won't go against my doctor's advice, but he still gives me a good old orgasm, after a long and passionate licking.

After my legs stop shaking, he helps me inside the tub, the water submerging my big belly, and he washes me down, with the dedication of a nurse, still learning his craft.

Soft hands around my big sore tits, he kisses the nipples, and then my lips. I can taste myself on his tongue, as his fingers gently massage me down there.

Gilbert doesn't lose his erection for one moment, not even when he's helping me out of the tub, one hour later, and takes me into the bedroom.

He kisses me on the lips and lays down next to me.

I turn on my side, using the banana-shaped pillow to place between my legs, and hold his hand, looking at his hairy chest. "Do you want to meet your real father?" I ask him.

A shine of surprise as he looks back at me. "I think I'm good." He stares back at the ceiling. "No, I'd be jealous. I want you to myself."

And a kiss comes through. And then another. And another. I keep the pillow between my legs but hold him closely. My hands travel to his aching erection, and despite being this close, I want him one more time. One last time. He undresses me, like I'm some sort of deity, and plays with my body, making love with each part, opening me up even more. He kisses every inch of my skin, and I kiss him back.

My nails on his chest, and then his chest on my back, and his tongue travels south, licking me from behind. "I don't want to make you worse," he says, coming back up, whispering near my neck. But I hold his member, throbbing with my fingers, and guide him.

It's just like how I imagined it.

His cock leaks into me, and my pussy swallows him, the lips dragging him in, like a mermaid's song. He knows the doctors said no, but he can't say no to me. Fuck me one last time, I whisper, fuck me, my son.

The plump head pushes my lips apart, and he's throbbing already, holding my super engorged breasts from behind. "You sure I'm not -"

"Gilbert, I need you now," I say, pushing my back onto his dick, stealing a gasp from his mouth, clenching my muscles around it, and milking him.

"Fuck mom, don't do that, oh fuck," he says, and I can almost see his face, squirming, trying to control his cock from exploding with a month-old nut. But I don't want to stop, I want to retribute everything he's done for me, and I pull him in, and my body reacts with his gargantuan geyser gushing inside me. He grunts, muffled, holding my body.

"Don't stop," I tell him, his warmth giving me life, making me young again.

He's shivering, but he obeys my order.

Slow. Steady. Wet, and sloppy, his cum leaks as he pushes his cock inside me, fucking me at a steady pace, while kissing the skin of his mother. "You ok like this?" he keeps asking, not daring to be brute or rough. And I'm loving him that way, how his cock slides in so perfectly, my body on a crescendo, it's been months since I felt this way.

"It's so good," I confess, letting him hit from behind, biting on his wrist as the orgasm draws closer.

"Theresa, from now on," my doctor said when she realized my pregnancy was far too big, "I would not recommend you to have sex or very strong orgasms, it might get you into labor."

"Don't stop," I beg, ignoring her advice, feeling my son's seed leaking from my open cunt, and knowing he still had more to give me. "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum," I announced, unable to hold back, pushing a pillow over my face, clenching my muscles around my son's member, and receiving his second load of the night.

But my orgasm lasts the longest it has ever been and slowly transforms me with it.

Steve and Mark are about to leave the house when they see Gilbert and I, fully packed as well.

"The babies are coming," I announced, as soon as another contraction comes through. Fuck, I didn't miss that.

"The babies?" Steve and Mark asked at the same time.

"Mam, only the dad can be in the room."

I feel dizzy. The lights are bright. The pain is too strong. But I can recognize Gilbert's hand anywhere on the planet.

"I won't leave her alone," a calm, but proud Gilbert voices his choice.

"Dad can't be here," I manage to say, "Don't leave me alone, please."

I beg. And then another contraction comes through, and instinctively, Gilbert holds my hand and joins our foreheads. "Breathe." I'm fucking breathing! But it helps. I calm down for a little while.

A doctor comes around. Not my doctor. Fingers up my vagina. "It's time," he announces to the world.

"I need some epidural!" I shout, but no time for that. "Gilbert? Gilbert?"

He never let go.

"They are finally asleep."

The one-year birthday party went better than expected, but now I need some alone time. Gilbert looks at me, from the couch, and invites me to sit down with him.

"You ok?"

He's been a lifesaver.

"I think I am."

"Do you need a drink?"

I kiss him on the lips. It took some time, but my sexual drive is coming back.

"Stop teasing. Only after I stop breastfeeding."

We kiss, tenderly. Just like I imagined life would be with Steve, but never was.

He touches my big swollen breasts, licking his lips. "I know. And you won't be stopping any time soon."

I fall in his arms, and let him cuddle me. If feels good. More than feeling like a whore, I was also needing some love in my life. His lips are careful, but they know exactly what they're doing, kissing down my neck.

"Gilbert?"

"I missed you."

"I missed you too."

He opens up my dress, exposing my breasts, held together by an extra large bra, and he massages them, just like I need. He keeps at it, until I'm purring like a cat, and his erection is throbbing on my back.

My desire returns faster than previously, and I let him taste my body.

"Do you want to... have sex?" he asks. Unlike his father - or unlike Steve, he respects me. Since the last time when he fucked me into labor, I've been giving him some oral relief, using my hands and mouth to make him cum. I told him, he was free to see anyone, but to that, he always replies with "I only want you."

"Come," he says, a smile on his face that reminds me he's still twenty, and an energy unlike any other. He takes my old lingerie out, and my shoes. His shirtless body sports an erection that I missed dearly. "Is this ok?" he asks, and I smile, as he takes the straps over my shoulders and lets my dress fall down on my feet, kissing me in the process. "Who knows when we'll have some time again?"

His cock rubs against my thighs, and I let him love me. He has firm hands that dress the black lace lingerie, pulling up my panties like his life depended on that to survive, and then the nylon stockings, all the way up, kissing me every inch of the way. And then he kneels, like he's proposing, and fits my four-inch spiked heels.

"Fuck," he says, and there's a wide wet spot on his shorts.

I pass my heel over his erection, increasing his state.

And when he tries to put the dressing on, it doesn't fit.

"I still have some weight to lose," I comment.

"You're fucking gorgeous that way." And hands me back the red lipstick.

"How long have you been thinking about this?"

"For too long," he admits, and today is not about love. Now, it's about sex. I lay down across the bed, head hanging over the edge, and pull his shorts down. A clear see-through string falls on my tongue, and I can hear the excitement in his breath.

He parts my lips, into my warm mouth, and as he goes all the way down my throat, so his head goes down into my bush, discovering a new pussy for him to tame. I was not the blowjob queen by accident. I take my son down my throat until tears run down my eyes, and until my pussy is on the edge of an orgasm, with him unloading his precious seed straight into my stomach.

He pants, collapsing to the side of the bed, unable to process what I just did to him.

Without the belly, it gets easier.

I use my heels to press on his balls, softly, the spikes making him shiver.

"You want more?" he asks, happy in a way. It's when I jump on the bed, squatting over a cock that will have no rest. He lubes me up, and I go down, inch by inch until my Gilbert is all inside me. I ride him, spikes pressing against his thighs until he is crying with happiness, until my cunt belongs to him again.

He turns me on my back, in a missionary position, sucking on my tits as he rams my pussy, sharing my life. I dug my nails on his back, and I punch his chest, ordering to fuck me harder.

"I need you!" I shout.

He places my legs over his shoulders, and his arms on my back, lifting me up. Where he gets the strength from, I don't know, but he has never been that deep before. My body convulses, while he keeps thrusting me without a break until he shoots his load one more time, but only stopping when I cannot take him anymore when my orgasm is so strong that all of me shakes, my legs shivers, my body aches in such a way that I cannot stop cumming.

I wake up better than any day I can remember. My body's sore, but the good kind. I'm alone in bed - somehow, a chill that reminds me of Steve. But I can hear Gilbert's voice, lulling his sons to sleep. I stay in bed a little longer, making the mistake of checking my phone.

There are several messages from Steve, not the good kind. He comes back to bed, holding breakfast in a tray.

"Do you think I was too harsh on your father?" I explain the trail of messages he just sent, and he puts the breakfast tray down, enters the bed, and gets behind me, his arm across my chest.

"I don't think so. He was the one choosing Mark over you. Now we know, and they know. The cat is out of the bag."

"But..." he puts his indicator over my lips.

"I know. But I'm happy here with you."

We had this conversation one too many times. He's so young, I'm getting so old, and out of a delicate pregnancy. Now, with two to raise, life looks a bit desperate for me. "Maybe I should find a nice home for them, you know? I'll be seventy when they're twenty. An old nana."

"Mom, I'm here. They're also mine, aren't they? Let me worry about it."

"But you're barely twenty, Gilbert. Your whole life is ahead of you!"

He holds me closer to his chest. "You are my life, Theresa. Never forget that."