Sensitive, Compartmented, Hallmark

The labor and birth were tough on her body. I was there for the entire 25 hours but let's be honest: I didn't do shit. Kate did all the work. I just "coached" her through it as best I could. Kate did all the work and her body was slow to recuperate. I think it frustrated both of us.

I knew that sex was going to be off the table for at least three weeks after Charlie's birth. But the way Kate was acting, I began to wonder if we would ever have sex again. Even if she was up for sex, there was no opportunity. Little Charlie was the priority nearly every waking second she had. He was the priority for both of us.

We made it through those first two weeks and then I had to get back to work. Analyses were getting backlogged, because some of the work required my unique blend of [deleted]. On the first day going back to work it was hard to say goodbye to Kate and Charlie. For some reason, I also found it hard to say goodbye to Maria.

Maria basically pushed me out of the house that first morning. "Go on!" she commanded. "Get yourself to whatever it is that you even do! Vete!" Her voice softened. "We will be fine, Neil."

I nodded and left. A long half-hour later, I was sitting at my desk in a room hidden away from others. Although I tried to concentrate, a part of me wondered how my family was doing without me there. How was Kate coping? Was Charlie crying or maybe sleeping? What was Maria making for dinner?

When the day was done, I cleaned up and rushed home, glad to have a family waiting for me—even if my family now included one unplanned, extra member. It seemed my Hallmark movie life also included a plot twist.

*****

The sex thing became a problem. I should say "the lack of sex thing." Three weeks went by but Kate still wasn't ready for sex. We talked about it. She didn't know when she would be ready.

"I want to make you happy," she said, "but I can't right now. Go ahead and masturbate if you need to; I understand."

I didn't want to masturbate; I wanted to fuck my wife. Sex was the glue that had brought us together and kept us that way.

I think the issue started with her post-baby body. She didn't feel she was attractive anymore. Which wasn't true as far as I was concerned, but she wasn't listening to me. Add pain and hormones and exhaustion to body-image issues, and I began to get concerned that maybe my wife was feeling some sort of post-partum depression. I started to think she should see a therapist. Maybe we should see a therapist. But every time I started to mention that counseling might help us deal with the issue, she started to cry and that was the end of that.

Somewhere between Week 3 and Week 4, I decided that—even though I loved Charlie—fatherhood truly sucked.

*****

Chapter 4: How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?

As time passed, I continued to try to seduce my wife, without much success. She was simply not ready for sex. Not physically and not emotionally. She continued to focus on meeting Charlie's needs rather than my own. I understood her priority—at least intellectually. This was a phase and I needed to be patient. That's what I told myself.

Try telling that to my balls.

Friday night. Week 4 of Charlie's life. It had been a long week at work, but the analysis backlog was down to almost nothing. I stopped at the gym and made it home about 7:30. When I arrived, Kate and Charlie both were asleep. Maria had made arroz con pollo (again) and I microwaved my dinner to heat it up. I poured a glass of Syrah, then had another.

Maria joined me at the table. I poured her a glass and she sipped at her wine as we looked at each other. She told me about the day, about Charlie's day and how it went. I could see that something was off this evening. Maria seemed to be in pain.

When I asked about it, she waved me away.

"It's nothing," she said. "Just a muscle spasm. I'll be fine tomorrow."

I nodded. What could I say?

When I made it upstairs, I checked on Charlie. He was sleeping peacefully. The little guy slept through the night almost every night—thank God. I don't know what we would have done if he didn't sleep. After checking on my son, I went into our bedroom and got ready for bed.

Kate stirred as I got into bed next to her. I rolled her onto her stomach and began to rub her back. I rubbed her gently but firmly, hoping that my massage might lead to other—better—interaction. Unfortunately, as had been the case for the past month, that was not to be the case.

Kate sighed. "I'm sorry, Neil," she said, "I just can't. Not yet."

"When will you be ready?" I asked, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. "Is there anything I can do?"

She sighed again. "I can't ... I don't know when I'll be ready. There's nothing you can do."

It was my turn to sigh. I rolled away from her and thought about sleep. Neither one of us was ready for bed: Kate restlessly rolled over on her side of the bed, and I tried to find a comfortable position on my side. Minutes passed like that. An hour might have passed, or maybe two.

It was going to be a long night. At least tomorrow was Saturday, and I could sleep in.

"There is one thing you can do," Kate said, interrupting my failed attempts to get some sleep.

I rolled onto my side, facing her. "What?"

"My mom," she said. "It's her back. She strained it today. She was holding Charlie and she bent down to put the dishwasher soap away. She pulled a muscle, I think." Kate looked at me. "It really hurts her."

"And?"

"And you can go down there and give her a massage," she said, as if I was an idiot. "Just like you were rubbing my back earlier tonight." She smiled slightly. "It felt good. If I could have ...." Her sentence trailed off. I knew what she wasn't saying.

"You think I can do the same to Maria?" I wanted to be sure I was hearing what I thought I was hearing. "Rub her back?"

Kate nodded. "Uh-huh. See if you can loosen her muscles up a bit."

I nodded back. I put on my bathrobe and headed down the stairs to my mother-in-law.

*****

The TV was on downstairs.

Maria liked to watch TV downstairs at night. I think it helped her to sleep, because the TV would be on every night when I went to bed and it was still on every morning when I got up to make coffee before work. The volume was never turned very high, but the flickering images seemed to soothe her.

Her eyes were closed; she was snoring softly. She was wrapped in a blanket and, underneath, she wore a bathrobe. Under the robe was a Mumu-like nightgown made of thick cottony material, that covered her from neck to ankle. When I asked why she needed all the layers, Maria said they helped to keep her warm at night.

I turned off the TV and moved to the sofa bed. As I got closer, I saw Maria's eyes had opened. She was looking at me.

"Kate wanted me to come down to rub your back," I told her. "She says you hurt it pretty badly."

"I told you already; it's nothing."

"Right. But Kate doesn't think so ... so I'm going to rub your back. Roll over onto your stomach for me." I purposefully didn't say "please."

She did what I asked; she rolled over.

I pulled the blanket back, leaving her safely ensconced in her nightgown and bathrobe. Her huge ass stuck up like a mini-Mount Everest. Maria was nearly twice my age and, even though she was a foot shorter than I was, she weighed about what I weighed. Most of that extra weight was in her chest and ass, but not all of it, of course.

I settled down over her plump thighs and began to firmly knead her upper back. I pushed hard against her tight muscles. She groaned slightly at the pressure, so I figured I was doing a pretty good job.

"Thank you for all you do for us," I whispered as I kneaded her back and moved lower. Maria didn't say anything, but when my hands found her lower back and began to knead those muscles, she groaned loudly.

I kept working on her back for some time, kneading her muscles, pushing my knuckles in deep, then soothing with my palms. I worked her back—both lower and upper—while she continued to groan softly as I hit a particularly sensitive spot. After a while, I moved up and massaged her neck and shoulders. Her shoulders were as tight as rocks but, after a few minutes, they loosened.

I could feel Maria relax under my hands, her body palpably softening under my touch. I smiled because she deserved to relax. She had given Kate and I—and Charlie!—so much. Massaging her back was the least I could do for her.

Eventually, I got tired of rubbing Maria's back. I looked down and decided it was time to massage her legs. I shifted off her thighs so my hands could knead those muscles. I started high and worked down her calves to her ankles, then back up. Her legs moved under my hands, the muscles quivering as I worked them. Maria had stopped groaning but she now was sighing deeply. I guess she liked having her legs rubbed.

"Take off your bathrobe," I told her.

She hesitated.

"Do it," I said. "Don't worry, you still have your nightgown on."

She moved to take off her bathrobe. She untied it and let me pull it off her body, leaving her clad in the thick cottony Mumu thing she called a nightgown. She might have been cold, because I thought she was trembling a bit when the bathrobe was off her body.

I moved back over her and worked on her back again, then her legs. This time, I didn't push in as hard. My hands were firm, but gentle. I let my fingernails graze over her back and then down her thighs to her ankles. Then I gently let my fingers caress her legs on the return trip.

By the third time I made that round trip journey, Maria was breathing heavily and making little sighs from time to time. I took that as my cue. I don't know why I thought she might be cold, because her skin felt hot to the touch.

On the next trip up from ankles to back to shoulders, my hands went under her nightgown, lifting it away as my fingers finally found her bare skin. My fingers gently caressed her outer thighs up to her hips, avoiding her prominent ass. My hands found her hips and cupped them. I squeezed them softly, then harder.

Marian moaned at my touch.

I moved my hands back down, following her body's curves until I was—once again—caressing her outer thighs. I went down to her ankles then back up again. I moved slowly, smoothly—all pretense of pressure discarded.

I realized that my cock was rigid under my own bathrobe as my hands moved up towards Maria's hips once again. This time, I didn't avoid her butt. My hands slowly squeezed her cheeks for several long seconds. Maria was panting now and moaning with each squeeze. I let one finger trace her crack from top to bottom. She wasn't wearing panties.

"You're making me horny," she muttered in Spanish.

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked in the same language.

She didn't respond so I kept doing what I wanted to do to her.

I played with Maria's butt for a long time until I decided to move up, still underneath her tent-like nightgown. My hands moved up from her hips to her back, and then to her chest. I caressed the sides of her huge breasts.

Maria rolled from side to side to give me more space to touch her. I used that space to squeeze those breasts as I had squeezed her butt cheeks.

My hands moved lower again. When I found her hips, they were moving back and forth, as if she was rubbing against the mattress. I moved lower. When I reached her knees, I pulled her legs apart. There was no resistance whatsoever.

My hands moved back up her thighs, this time on the inside. I moved my hands slowly, letting my fingers gently press in on her skin, as I moved higher and higher. Her thighs were too plump, however, and I couldn't reach where I wanted to go. Instead, I let my thumbs push down and in, and up, towards her heat.

Maria moaned loudly. But when I tried to push her thighs further apart, she resisted.

"No," she said. "It's ... too much. Stop. Please stop now."

I sighed. I thought about my rock-hard cock and what it needed. But Maria had said no. I let my hands go back down to her ankles. I lifted my hands off her body and smoothed her nightgown back down.

"All right," I replied, trying to hide my disappointment. "Let me just finish your neck and shoulders, and we'll be done."

She made a noise that sounded somewhere between agreement and disappointment. I held her upper body at the shoulders and waist, careful not to touch those huge breasts, and rolled Maria on to her back. She rolled willingly.

Her eyes met my eyes in the darkness as I massaged her neck and shoulders. I straddled her thighs again as I worked on them. Maria sighed and groaned as we both felt her tight neck muscles loosen under my hands.

"That feels so good," she said in Spanish. I didn't reply.

After a few minutes, I took the zipper at her throat into my hand and gently lowered it. I kept my eyes on hers, waiting for her to say "no"—but no words came out. I lowered the nightgown's zipper down below her breasts, almost to her navel, before she spoke.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"I want to see your boobies," I replied.

Maria didn't say anything. I gently pushed the arms of nightgown off her shoulders, to reveal her upper breasts. She didn't say anything but she moved her arms to help me slip the nightgown completely off them. Maria was soon naked to the waist before me.

I finally glimpsed her huge breasts. I wish I could tell you exactly what they looked like, but the room was dark and so I only had a vague idea. I can tell you that they were every bit as large as I'd imagined. Instead of firmly pointing out, her breasts sagged down towards her belly.

Maria's areolae were as huge as her breasts—easily two inches from nipple to the edge. They were dark, I could see that much. And her nipples looked small in the middle of those large, dark areolae. They were hard, pointing out, but not thick or especially long.

I longed to suckle them.

I reached down and gently hefted a breast. It was heavy. I brushed my thumb across a nipple. I could feel its hardness.

Maria moaned.

I gave into my desires; I lowered my face and took one of those breasts into my mouth and sucked her nipple with passion.

"Oh ... Dios mio!" she cried out.

I moved to the other breast. My hand squeezed and rubbed on the breast I wasn't sucking. I alternated between them for several minutes, causing Maria to moan and groan.

Finally, I settled on one breast and used my free hand to lower the zipper as far as I could reach. When I pulled my hand up, I let it trace her pussy lips and graze what I thought was her clit. When I did that, Maria's hips bucked up against my hand.

"Yes," she moaned. "Yes."

I pushed her thighs open; this time there was no hesitation. I sucked one breast, used my left hand to play with the other, and used my right hand to rub her pussy.

Maria's pussy was covered with hair. Did the carpet match the drapes? There was no way to tell in the darkness. But her pussy was hot and wet; as I rubbed her it grew wetter, and hotter.

I stopped what I was doing long enough to wriggle out of my own bathrobe and pull my pyjama pants off, leaving my needy cock sticking out. It was dripping.

I quickly resumed my activities, but not before I moved Maria's hand to my cock. She gasped once, then her hand clenched around me and started to move in time with my hand rubbing her pussy. The faster I rubbed her, the faster she stroked me.

I took my mouth off her breast to look into her eyes. She used her free hand to push my mouth back where it had just been.

"Suck harder," she said in Spanish. "Suck as hard as you can."

That was when I wormed my finger between her wet pussy lips and into her pussy. I pushed in all the way. Then I added another, and curled them both. I pulled my fingers out and pushed them back into her, over and over, seeking that rough spot on the top of her canal.

With each push into her, Maria moaned. "Oh ... oh ...." She kept repeating as I fucked her with my fingers and rubbed her clit with my thumb. I sucked one areola into my mouth and flicked the nipple with my tongue as I pinched the other nipple and tugged on it.

Maria's voice grew louder and shriller. "Ay ... Ay ... Ay ... Dios!"

Her hand stilled on my cock. She gripped it fiercely. Then her inner muscles gripped my fingers the same way and I felt a rush of hot cream over them. Maria's body shook for a long time.

When her orgasm was over, our eyes met once again. She started to stroke my cock firmly, with passion. It didn't even take a minute before I could feel the pressure build. I barely had time to warn her before I came all over her stomach, the pressure of my orgasm causing cum to hit her breasts.

"Fuck," I groaned.

She smiled.

When I was done spurting, I moved up and our lips met in a messy, passionate kiss. She sucked my tongue into her mouth.

I kissed my way down her body, licking areas I missed before, such as the underside of her breasts. I kissed and licked everywhere I could find until I was licking her pussy. I scooched down to push away the last part of her nightgown; she moved to help me slide it off.

Then I was between her legs and licking her pussy. It was still hot and wet from before, but I was determined to make sure Maria didn't regret anything about tonight. If she was anything like her daughter, the more she came, the faster and easier the next orgasm would arrive.

Maria was like Kate. I gently sucked her clit and ran my tongue around the sides, and she held the back of my head as she came again. Then I moved my tongue lower and pushed it as deep into her as I could go. I probed and lapped at her hairy pussy for a long time before I returned to her clit and started to fuck her with my fingers again.

Maria's hips rose off the bed in time to my thrusts. It didn't take long for her to cry out loudly and inundate my hand and face with her musky juices.

I would have kept going but she moaned "basta" and pulled my head up to her breasts. I didn't stop there. My lips found hers again as I pushed the head of my cock into her sodden pussy.

Usually, it would take me at least twenty minutes to recover and be ready to go again. Tonight, I was ready to go again within ten minutes. My body needed relief, I guess.

I pushed firmly into Maria and hilted. I watched her eyes open wide as I filled her.

"How long has it been for you?" I asked in Spanish.

"Too long," she replied. "And never like this."

I smiled and started to fuck her in earnest.

Maria may have been on the heavy side but she didn't let that stop her from meeting my thrusts. Her breasts rubbed against my chest and her hands gripped my butt as I pumped into her. We were surprisingly good together, as the creaks and squeaks of the sleeper sofa attested. The sounds got louder as we sped up, as did Maria's moans. She wasn't just moaning, either. Each time I hilted deep inside her pussy—striving to reach her womb—she grunted out a curse in Spanish. The curses got louder and louder, until the words jumbled together into one single continuing nonsense word as we fucked.

The sweat ran down between our bodies. The heat was unbearable—yet I thrilled to it. My eyes locked onto Maria's eyes as we fucked faster and faster. The bed noises reached a crescendo and Maria's curses turned into a scream as her body tightened, her nails bit into my ass, and she clamped her pussy walls around my deeply embedded cock.

It was too much for me and I groaned as well. The pressure built and then released as I shot ribbon after ribbon of sticky lava into her volcano.

We quieted but our hearts were racing, our mouths gasping for air. I wiped the sweat off Maria's face and our lips met once again, our tongues dueling for supremacy. We kissed with all the passion we had; we could each feel my cock start to firm again.