Thanksgiving was a relaxed celebration. Since the whole things centered around food, we just skipped it. I didn't want to be smelling aromas from the kitchen all through the house. We called our friends and wished them a happy Thanksgiving. Then, I spent the day on the couch beside John while he watched football.
"How are you feeling, Mary?" he asked me during a commercial.
"Sleepy," I opened my eyes to smile up at him. "Comfy."
"Wouldn't you feel better sleeping in our bed?"
"But you wouldn't be there," I argued. "I just want to spend the holiday with you."
"That's why you're so wonderful. You never ask for much." John shifted around and shut off the television. "Let's go upstairs."
"Are you sure? Is the game over?" I was still sleepy.
"I don't need the game. I just need to be my you," his voice was deep and tempting.
Slowly, we made our way upstairs. I sat down on the bed, exhausted. "Let me help you get comfortable," John knelt down and took my socks and slippers off for me. He set them aside. "Want me to help you get into your nightgown?"
"No, I just want to get out of these," I only wanted to be comfortable.
"Sure, baby," he helped me get out of my pants and then sat down on the bed beside me. He grabbed the bottom of my circus-tent shirt and helped me get untangled from it.
"Are you still relaxed?" his gravelly voice could still make me shiver.
I just nodded.
He unclasped my bra and pulled it free. "I hate that thing," I told him as he tossed it on the floor.
John sat down behind me, with a leg on each side of me. He kissed my neck and I stretched it to the side as a moan escaped my lips. He gently edged one of his hands between my breast and belly and lifted it a little. Knowing that my breasts were sensitive, he just moved his hand so slightly. "That feels good," I whispered. John's deep chuckle was a delight to hear. He kept kissing and gently caressed me. He'd always been a breast man, so having them totally off-limits might have made him crazy.
John's hands moved to my stomach and I tried to swat his hands away. "What?" he asked.
"I'm huge," I replied. "You don't need to know exactly how huge."
"I love how big you are," John whispered. "It's our baby taking up that room. When we have our baby to hold, you'll be smaller."
"And if I'm not?"
"I'll love you no matter what shape you're in Mary. I just love you."
Minutes later, John and I laid beside each other in bed. I found comfort in the feel of John's skin on mine.
