Always Us

young lovers

Few words are exchanged as he comes to consciousness. She gives him his time, but his hands subconsciously grip tighter, and the rough cotton between them produces a delicious friction against her clit. It's a small tingle that inches up her spine, tempting and sweet. The familiar look on her face isn't lost on him, and he drags her hips forward, pulling a low moan from her.

But they can't.

The image on the screen moves, and she swings her leg back before she gets sucked in. Their baby waits for no one. But especially, not them.

She leaves an extra pair of shorts by the bed for him in case she makes it back into the room before he moves. Though walking down the hall, she realizes that's highly unlikely. One look over the banner, and she catches a glimpse of the mess they left behind. Cleaning up is now the top priority after getting her baby fed.

Downstairs, vivid memories flash across her mind as she bunches her and her husband's abandoned clothes into her arms. His boxers, her dress, his slacks. He had gotten Sienna through the door and into her crib in record time. She picks up her thong, and a shudder washes over her as she remembers his hips snapping into hers, her ass pressed against the cool marble of their entryway table. The fabric tugs against her hand and her thoughts spiral back. No, no, no mama. She whispers to her girl, but the grip is ironclad. Finger by finger, she manages to pry her undergarment loose, thankful her girl is still shy of a year old and too young to understand that this type of mess is exactly how she ended up on this earth.

Pancakes or waffles? The question floats down the stairs, and tiny feet kick at her gut. She wraps one in her hand, holding it still, and answers. Pancakes. Always pancakes.

Breakfast is messy, but the young parents handle it like champs, wiping up where they can, and releasing themselves from the rest to preserve their patience. Spencer gets up from the table first. He needs to prep for dinner since they're hosting friends for the night. When she comes back down with a clean baby, delicious smells taunt and tease, but she resists and goes to entertain Sienna while he finishes up.

The afternoon breezes by. A majority of it is spent on the couch. Her on one end, flipping through her book, and him on the other, scrolling through emails, preparing for the upcoming camp. Once the sun starts to shift from its peak position in the sky, and the rays begin to filter into the living room, she looks up. Sienna is passed out against his chest, her chunky cheeks flattened, her plump lips smooshed. Spencer barely gets a chance to glance up before she is running up for her sketchpad, grasping for whatever pencil is readily available.

The end result brings a smile to her face. The edges are rough, but to her, it's perfect. Two peas in a pod, both shirtless and relaxed. His arm wrapped loosely around her baby's small back, his eyes focused on the film playing on the tv screen. Even after hours of Sienna pulling at his ears and clawing at his nipples, he never tried to hand her off. She flips the book over to him, and his lips stretch across his face. The steady beating ramps up in her chest.

Crawling over to his side, she pecks his lips. He leans in for more, but she shakes her head. There's a misunderstanding. He goes to lay Sienna down, but she stops him. She's sleeping, he murmurs.

But the guests will be here soon, and they're not even close to ready. He has to work his magic, just unfortunately, not on her.

They transfer Sienna from one set of arms to the other. His chores await him, and she goes off to do her part of the prep. It's just a small gathering, a few old friends, a few new, but that tiny detail doesn't faze her. Tonight, she'll dazzle. In the bathroom, Sienna gets laid in a lounger while she hops in the shower. Halfway through, the cries force her out.