A/N: End of the road, people. Roselle finally got back from her assignment in time for me to polish this last part. Yesterday, May 14, was our mid-term elections so the media people are on their toes day in and day out. She managed to get out of it, at least until official results come out.
Anyway, a HUGE thank you for staying by me and my cousin and of course my pride and joy, Dylan. I hope you enjoy this last boost of smex and I'll see you all soon!
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The drive back home was a bit silent. Dylan was 'reading' another picture book, reunited with his trusty bear and the parents were exhausted from all the walking and driving they did throughout the day.
The silence was broken when Dylan suddenly said, "Mommy, Daddy," then they turned to face him, "I wants a pet ephalant. Pretty please…" he held the book up and pointed to the elephant on the page.
Mac managed a chuckle before answering, "Uh… buddy, we can't fit an elephant in the house. And they are not meant to be pets." Dylan bit his lower lip.
"And baby," Stella supported; she knew he was about to cry, "we already have Blue. And we love Blue, right?" He considered that for a moment and nodded.
He sighed. "Okay," he said softly, "I love Blue, too." The silence enveloped them again. Mac tried turning on the radio but nothing worth listening was on.
Back home, Stella went straight to the kitchen to cook dinner while Mac attended to the little boy. Dylan placed some crumbled cookies together with Blue's kibble. The rest of the night was pretty much uneventful for the family until it was time to go to bed.
Dylan was in his Smiley pajamas, listening to his Mother's bedtime story. "The cow of the farmer went out of the barn and looked up into the night sky," she said, stroking his head lovingly, "And she said to the mother hen, 'I can jump up to the sky and get you a chunk of cheese.'"
The little boy laughed, "Mommy… the moon is not made of cheese." They had that conversation before when one of his friends from daycare said that the moon was made of cheese.
Mac was watching them by the door, obviously amused. "I know that, baby. But the cow didn't know that. And neither did the mother hen." The boy smiled and his eyes started to close. "So the hen clucked and said, 'What made you think the moon will let you get some cheese?' The proud cow answered, 'I know her nickname. It's…'" she waited for him to say it with him, "Moooooo…" and they laughed. Afterwards, Dylan settled deeper into the bed and his breath evened out. "Good night, sweetheart. I love you," she whispered against his hair, planting a kiss there.
Walking towards her husband, he said, "Moon, ei? You do know what that spells out, right?" He wrapped his arms around her from behind, clearly suggesting something other than the literal. "M-O-O-N. It spells…"
"Mac, if this is another one of your Stephen King moments, I'm not getting it," she giggled as they entered their bedroom. Her cotton pajamas were a bit tight on her and quite frankly her husband had no complaints. He was dressed in a white tank top and his cotton boxers. All the cotton between them weren't enough to mask what the other was feeling.
He led her gently on the bed and kissed her neck, slowly going down to the buttons of her top. "I'm a guy who finishes what he starts," he mumbles as he unclasped two buttons. It was déjà vu; only this time, she was lying down and not sitting on a barstool. She was trying to figure out why this was familiar but all the thinking went out the window when Mac caught a sensitive nipple in between his lips, grazing the tip tenderly with his teeth. Her hands held his head in place as she release a quiet moan. Not long after, her left nipple was given equal attention from his forefinger and thumb. Stella had to bite her own thumb to stifle a whimper.
"Door," she managed to pant. Mac's other hand was slinking towards the spot where she needed the most stimuli only to stop where the curls started and dance back up her belly.
"Locked," Mac mumbled around her breast; the added vibrations sent shockwaves through her. The shirt she was wearing was unbuttoned all the way, leaving her swollen breasts and pregnant belly exposed. Mac leaned up and kissed her deeply on the lips and moaned into it himself as Stella's searching hands found the opening in his shorts and gave him a firm tug. He felt movement under his hand that was settled on her tummy. He looked up and searched if Stella was hurting.
She shook her head. "It's okay," she whispered. "Just take it slow. Love me," she said the last part in a seductive tone. The next thing she knew, her pajama bottoms were on the floor and then a pair of white shorts settled beside it. Her hands traveled under her husband's remaining clothing; her turn in playing. She ran her nails across his already hard nipples, making them harden some more. A sudden urge to feel them between her lips overwhelmed her as she pulled the piece of cloth over his head and leaned onto her side.
"Oh Stella," he moaned, punching the mattress beneath him – her soft lips and hot mouth applying suction on that little nub. Her hand was tracing circles on his old battle scar then to his right nipple. If possible, it hardened some more. And she had a pretty good idea that those weren't the only parts of him stiffening. A short trip south of his body by her hand confirmed that.
Oh boy, what would Mac give to have her suck another part of his anatomy. Particularly the one she was fondling painfully slowly. But he knew that if she did that, he wasn't going to last long enough to give her what she needed. So as much as he was enjoying the festivities, he extracted himself from Stella's mouth and grasp and kneeled between her legs. Her shapely globes fit perfectly in his large hands.
"You ready?" he said in a barely audible voice.
A naughty glint in her green eyes said it all but she spoke anyway, "You be the judge." He pulled her closer and with a finger, tested her wetness. The warmth that welcomed him there, accompanied by a symphony of her moans of pleasure was all the proof he needed. He tickled that little bundle of nerves that transformed Stella to a goddess devoid of inhibitions and shyness. "Mac…" she panted, thrusting her hips up to meet his questing fingers.
His lips descended onto hers as his length was engulfed by her heat. Their tongues mingled, their lips bruising each other while he gave her moments to adjust. Merely making out with Mac reduced Stella into mush; having his manhood deep within her made her toes curl in intense pleasure.
After what seemed like forever, he started moving, keeping the mushroom head in her and thrusting all the way inside ever so slowly. He wanted her to reach climax many times before he does. And like he promised, he'll take it slow. Stella kissed and bit any part of him she could reach. He was sure that he'd be having marks there by tomorrow. Not long after his consistent thrusting and strokes, Stella released a breathy moan, her inner muscles tightening deliciously around him. It took Mac everything not to buck wildly into that hot tightness.
"You okay, babe?" he said, waiting for her to come down from her high. Stella nodded and kissed him softly. He continued to thrust leisurely, marveling at the sounds his wife made as well as his own pleasure. Her nails were raking down his back, another set of marks. She would deliberately tighten around her when he would thrust inside. "I love you," he whispered to her, looking deep in her green eyes.
"I love you, too," she said back, kissing his Adam's apple. "Now stop teasing, you big man, you!" He laughed at that yet didn't change his pace. Instead, his right hand traveled lower. A calloused pad of his thumb came in contact with the tip of that bundle of nerves that sent Stella shuddering. He stilled within her and rubbed her fast and hard. "Argh!" she screamed, followed by some frantic words in Greek. Right then, he wasn't concerned about what she meant – her scream might be enough to wake Dylan up. The intensity of her orgasm almost did him in.
He though she might've passed out but the slight punch on his right shoulder proved otherwise. "You are cruel," she panted. He sniggered and began to kiss her neck. "Move, damn it!"
"Hey, I promised to take it slow…" he said amid the licks and kisses. His hips moved again; the friction just right to keep their peaks at bay. "I love you, remember?" But he couldn't hide that as his wife climaxes; he inches closer to his own. "You're so great today. Our baby girl looks happy," he panted, his thrusts becoming erratic yet still gentle. Stella arched her back, exposing her neck, which Mac peppered with kisses. "Stell…" his eyes were shut and there was a familiar tingle in his balls.
"Let go, baby…" she said against his ear – she clung onto him tightly at her own impending orgasm. Her third one that night. "You got me."
With that, Mac let go of all control he had over his body and gave in to the pleasure. He propped himself on his arms to keep his weight off Stella and at the same time, seeing her face and all her expressions of passion. Stella pulled his head down to a kiss and moaned out loud at a sharp thrust. That triggered a small but satisfying orgasm. It was all Mac needed to explode inside her warm depths. His body went tense and she felt wet heat pulse into her.
Both were silent for a while, trying to catch their breaths. Mac rolled on his side, pulling out of Stella and hugging her. He brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her softly. Still panting, Stella managed to say, "I know what M-O-O-N stands for now."
"Yeah? What?" Mac said, wrapping the blanket around their bodies.
She kissed his chin, "M-O-O-N. That spells I love you."
"You know what," he said, "I love olives, too."
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Murgy31 – haha, he has Lindsey as one of his best-est friends.
Reine – I wouldn't know how to explain it to a three-year-old either. WRONG HAND POWER! Hahahah…
Mo – Danny and Don went through a crash course in babysitting with Dylan! Mac and Stella have free sitters haha.
Mandi – I wouldn't let go of Dylan as well. He's a cute, chubby, soft, and talkative little boy.
Paly – I write with my WRONG hand too!
