The air in the living room was filled with desire as we stood in the room with our hands caressing each other as we kissed with every one of passion in our bodies.
Max begins to feast on me like his life depends on it. "That's it, beautiful, make all the fucking noises you want because no one will hear."
He sat down on the ottoman and worked my panties down my legs. Max tells me to sit on the sofa's edge and spread my legs wide.
His tongue licks into me like I'm a bowl of his favorite ice cream. My hands scrabble to grab the sofa cushions.
Not able to sit still as I fuck his face with my wet pussy. The sensation has me writhing and desperate for Max to own my body.
The licking and swirling, and sucking that is happening to my wet core are almost too much to handle.
I can feel his tongue licking me from top to bottom, taking a moment to nibble my lips. Each plunge of his tongue inside me has me begging for more.
I try to move and stand up, but Max places his hand on my thighs and pushes me back down.
"Open your legs, don't fucking let me tell you again."
Hearing his command is visceral, and my body responds with throbbing between my legs. I know his commanding words should not turn me on so much, but I can't help but think it turns me on more.
Wanting to obey his commands, I spread my knees wider and begged him to make me come on his tongue.
The begging drives him crazy, and with a deep grunt, he pushes two fingers deep into my wet core. The feel of his stubble and his hot breath against me as he fingers me with his teeth, biting my lip, sends me higher and closer to an out-of-control orgasm.
"Yes, come for me, baby. Come on my fingers as I suck on your clit"
My hips arch off the sofa as I cry out with my juices covering Max's two fingers.
"That's it, Baby. You came so good on my fingers, and how I will lick you clean."
Max buries his face in between my legs; I can hear him inhaling my scent as his tongue cleans me up.
My whole body is on fire; I can feel it twitching. My mouth was dry from all the sounds that came from me as Max was commanding my body to release.
Once I had caught my breath, Max told me to lie on our bed, take off all my clothes, and wait for him.
I do as he says and hear him in the kitchen. Then, he comes into the room and hands me a glass of water. He tells me to rehydrate because we are not done yet.
Max returns to the room, and I see that he is naked and staring at me. He lays down beside me, and he tells me how it feels to see marks on my body he gave during passion.
He runs his hands down my body; the feeling has me closing my eyes and tilting my head skywards.
Max tells me that he loves my hard and pink nipples as he softly rubs his palms against them.
"You're so gorgeous when you come for me, sweetheart," As he presses his lips to my breast.
I can feel my lips trembling from the surge of emotions surging through my body. The feeling explodes into salty tears. Max reaches up, kisses both my eyes, and says, "You are the best thing to ever happen in my life, and I will always treasure you."
Unable to reply, I reach up, place my hand on his neck, and bring his mouth to mine. I let my emotions come through with the kiss.
"have to fuck you now," as his hand brushes across my chest. "I promise I will make us both feel so good."
After making sure to place the pregnancy pillow under the lousy leg for support, Max is finally on top of me for the first time since we've gotten back together.
I can feel my pulse pounding in my ears. Max puts both hands on each side of me, and I spread my legs for him.
Then he drives himself inside me; the pressure makes me gasp for a moment. Our breaths mingle, and our bodies are as one as he slides in and out of me.
The pleasure I'm feeling can be felt throughout my whole body. Max tells me in a sexy voice his balls are tightening, all while he thrusts harder inside.
The raspy groans from Max's mouth make ripples throughout my body.
The atmosphere takes on a new meaning with both bodies' urgency and frantic sounds.
Max tells me to look at his face and says, "Watch me as I fill you with everything I have in me."
My heart may burst from all the feelings I have going on. Our mouths meet, tongues twining with desperation.
"Oh babe, I can't stop."
My body throbs while I clamp down on his cock and milk him for every one of his come. Max drives one last deep thrust inside me, and he empties himself deep inside me.
Not wanting to hurt the baby or himself, he rolls over to his side and pulls me against him.
As the heartbeats slowed down, the room fell into a peaceful hush. The world outside seemed miles away—just a distant murmur of animals and the occasional whisper of wind against the window.
They lay close, wrapped in each other's arms beneath the soft weight of the blankets. I lay my head on his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing a soothing rhythm. Max's arms encircled me, secure yet tender, fingers tracing gentle lines along my shoulder blade.
Their legs were tangled together, a quiet knot of closeness, grounding them in the shared warmth. My breathing slowed to match Max's, a natural synchronization that made the quiet feel even softer. The room was a haven—just their whispered goodnights, lingering smiles, and the comfortable silence that only comes with deep trust.
As the minutes passed, the weight of the day melted away. Their thoughts grew softer and less distinct, fading into the steady heartbeat beneath her ear. In that quiet, unspoken space, they held each other—each a gentle anchor for the other—until sleep finally carried them away.
Max lay on his back, the soft rustle of sheets filling the quiet room. Mia nestled close, her head resting gently on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby. The golden light of morning filtered through the curtains, casting warm streaks across the room.
His fingers traced lazy circles along her shoulder, a comforting and familiar touch. Mia sighed contentedly, her breath warm against his skin. Max tilted his head slightly, catching the subtle scent of her hair — a blend of lavender and something distinctly hers.
"Couldn't we just stay like this forever?" Mia murmured, her voice muffled yet carrying a hint of a smile.
Max curled his lips upward, a smile meant only for her. "I wouldn't mind," he replied softly, his voice low and steady.
Their legs tangled beneath the sheets, a comfortable knot of closeness. The world outside felt distant and irrelevant, a place they could leave behind just a little longer. The silence between them wasn't empty; it was full of understanding, a language they had built over time.
Max's hand slipped from her shoulder to her back, drawing her closer. Mia responded by pressing a gentle kiss to his collarbone, a wordless thank you, a silent "I love you." The space between them was almost nonexistent, a tender closeness that felt effortless and right.
The morning closeness washes a comfortable peace over Max, and he drifts back to sleep. I lay there for a few minutes, watching him sleep, and I realized how thankful I was to have this man in my life.
Max woke to the sound of soft clinking in the kitchen. For a moment, he stayed still, blinking away the remnants of sleep. The morning sun filtered through the curtains, painting golden patterns across the rumpled bed. He reached out instinctively, but Mia's side of the bed was empty — the sheets cool against his fingertips.
With a stretch and a yawn, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and padded out of the bedroom, following the scent of breakfast. In the kitchen, Mia stood at the stove, her hair in a messy bun, wearing one of his old t-shirts that reached just above her knees. She hummed softly to herself as she flipped pancakes, her focus intent.
"Good morning, chef," Max teased, leaning against the doorway.
Mia glanced back, a smile lighting her face. "Good morning, sleepyhead. I was starting to think you'd sleep the whole morning away."
Max crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Wouldn't be the worst way to spend a Sunday," he murmured.
Mia leaned into him briefly, the warmth of their closeness a comforting start to the day. "Well, I made pancakes. So your lazy plans will have to wait."
Max laughed softly, releasing her to grab a couple of plates from the cabinet. They moved around the kitchen in an easy, practiced rhythm — a gentle choreography built from countless mornings together. Orange juice was poured, butter and syrup set out, and the stack of pancakes grew steadily.
Max reached for the OJ, savoring the first sip as they finally sat down. Mia took a bite of her pancake, her eyes bright with satisfaction.
"These are perfect," Max declared between bites. "You're spoiling me."
"Someone has to," Mia teased. "Besides, you'll be doing the dishes."
He groaned playfully, and she laughed, the sound bright and genuine. They lingered over breakfast, conversations meandering from weekend plans to shared memories in a gentle and familiar flow.
After the last forkful of pancakes, Mia checked the time. "We should start getting ready for church."
Max blinked, caught off guard. "Oh, right. It's Sunday."
Mia studied his face with a gentle smile. "You still up for it? I know it's your first time."
"Yeah," Max nodded. "I want to see what it's like."
They dressed more thoughtfully—Mia in a modest, graceful dress that reached her knees and Max in black joggers and a button-up shirt that felt slightly stiff against his skin. On the drive to the church, Max tapped absently on his thigh, a quiet show of nerves.
The church stood tall and timeless, its stained-glass windows glowing softly in the morning light. The wooden pews creaked gently as people settled in. Mia guided Max to a spot near the middle, her hand resting reassuringly on his forearm.
As the service began, Max observed everything — the rise and fall of hymns, the murmur of prayers, the way sunlight streamed through colored glass to paint fractured rainbows on the stone floor. He hesitated when the congregation stood or knelt, watching Mia's subtle cues to follow.
Mia bowed her head during prayer, her fingers loosely woven together. Max glanced at her more than at the altar, his curiosity rooted in her quiet devotion. When the priest spoke about grace and forgiveness, Max's gaze drifted to his hands—unfamiliar territory yet oddly grounding.
After the service, Mia glanced at Max with a thoughtful smile as they returned to the car. "So, what did you think?"
Max exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "It was... different, but peaceful. I can see why it means a lot to you."
Mia's smile widened. "I'm glad you came. Really."
He slipped his hand into hers, their fingers intertwining. "Thanks for inviting me."
They drove to a nearby bistro for brunch, where Mia's brothers, Jessie and Mark, were already gathered with their wives, Heather and April. The table was lively, laughter and conversation already in full swing.
"Hey, there they are!" Mark called, waving them over. Jessie grinned and nudged Heather playfully.
Max found himself caught in the lively energy of Mia's family. With his easygoing charm, Jessie cracked jokes while Mark shared exaggerated stories of childhood mischief. Heather and April chimed in, teasing their husbands and drawing Mia into playful banter.
"So, Max," Jessie leaned over with a smirk. "How was your first time in church? Did Mia convert you already?"
Max chuckled, glancing at Mia for a moment. "Not yet, but I survived, so that's a start."
Laughter rippled around the table, and Mia squeezed Max's hand beneath the table — a small, reassuring gesture.
As plates of eggs benedict, waffles, and fresh fruit arrived, the conversation ebbed and flowed between lighthearted teasing and more thoughtful talks. April asked Mia about work while Heather and Mark debated the best vacation spots for their next family trip.
By the end of the meal, Max felt warm and belonging, the manageable chaos of a family that embraced him without hesitation. When they finally stood to leave, Mark clapped Max on the shoulder.
"Glad you could join us, man. We'll make a churchgoer out of you yet," he teased.
Max laughed, the weight of his initial nerves long gone. "I guess we'll see."
As they returned to the car, Mia looked at Max with a soft smile. "You did great," she said. "I think they like you."
Max slipped his arm around her shoulder. "I think I like them too."
The afternoon sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the living room. The scent of pie baking in the oven for dinner blended with the faint aroma of Mia's vanilla-scented candles. Max stretched out on the sofa, one arm draped comfortably over Mia's shoulders as they settled to watch the football game.
Mia curled against his side and rested her head on his chest, absently tracing patterns on his forearm. "So, remind me again why this game is so important?" she teased, her voice laced with amusement.
Max smirked, his eyes flickering between her and the screen. "Playoffs, babe. Everything's on the line."
She hummed, unimpressed but content. "Mm-hmm. And this requires yelling at the TV because…?"
Max let out a soft chuckle. "It's part of the experience."
Mia rolled her eyes playfully, but she didn't mind. She liked how animated he got about things he cared about. Besides, she was pleased being wrapped up against him, his warmth making the chilly afternoon feel extra cozy.
As the game continued, Max occasionally commented on plays and strategies while Mia half-listened, enjoying the rise and fall of his voice more than the actual content. She stole glances at him, his jaw tense in anticipation one moment and his expression breaking into a grin the next.
Eventually, during a commercial break, Max leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "You bored yet?" he murmured, rubbing his thumb against her arm.
Mia smiled, snuggling closer. "Not at all. I like being here with you, and I also love football."
Max shifted, pulling the blanket over them." "Good," he whispered. "Me too."
The afternoon passed in a haze of shared warmth, occasional laughter, and the unspoken comfort of just being together. The game might've been the highlight for Max, but for Mia, these little moments mattered most.