31: HM2V: Where the Acromion Meets the Clavicle

Afternoon, Vera Manor, Second Floor

"We need a safe place to stay for the night," answered Mel. "I know it's super last minute, but Abigael's apartment isn't safe right now—" Maggie made as if to glare at Abigael. How dare this woman endanger her older sister…"It's not Abigael's fault—well, actually—" Mel paused again. "It's a long story. Can you help us?" Maggie, without missing a beat, made as if to say yes, beckoned them in, and closed the door behind her.

Midnight, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23

Harry tossed and turned in his sleep then suddenly awoke, realizing Macy wasn't beside him in bed. Where was she? He did a cursory check of the entire bedroom, then walked into the kitchen, where she had been known to sneak a bite of fresh fruit at unusual hours of the night. No Macy there either. He was about to run upstairs when he heard the familiar sound of the shower tap. The master bathroom. Harry turned back around and headed into their bedroom, closing the door behind him.

12:01 am, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Master Bathroom

Macy sighed in bliss as the warm water streamed across her body. Being mid-way through the second trimester with twins meant that her body began aching sooner rather than later, which made it nearly impossible for her to obtain a good night's sleep. She wished she could have taken a soak in the hot tub but alas, it was on every list of pregnancy no-no's.

She stared at the droplets of water on her shoulders, which looked like little sparkling, rounded diamonds dotting a path to her breasts, which were definitely larger than the last time she had a decent look at them. Her mammary veins were akin to an elegant roadmap, similar to how it had been when she was expecting her firstborn. Her left hand trailed from her right shoulder, to the front of one breast, touching the nipple, then feeling the undertow, proceeding downward to her swollen abdomen, where she lay her hand for a brief second, then continued downward until she reached the wavy tendrils of her pubic hair.

12:02 am, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Master Bathroom Doorway

Harry gasped as he stared through a crack in the master bathroom door, watching his gorgeous wife make such delicate motions across her fecund body. His body, no stranger to such beauty, was starting to stir once more at this tantalizingly torrid vision, and he likely would have gone unnoticed had not Macy turned away from the shower head and come face-to-face with him.

"Oh—H-Harry," Macy whispered. "I didn't know you were awake—" Harry entered the bathroom slowly, locking the door behind him as steam slowly began to build up in the enclosed area. Macy's nipples involuntarily stiffened, and she felt herself moisten, having noticed Harry's shirtless, well-toned chest and rather prominent erection. Oh my…Macy closed her eyes and breathed in, exhaled slowly. Damn, how was it legal for someone to look this hot?

Harry proceeded to shed his underwear and enter the shower. "I turned over in bed, love, and you weren't there, so I began searching for you—"

"And you found me. In the shower, might I add," Macy murmured.

"What made you want a shower at midnight, love?" Harry gently asked his wife, kissing a lock of her sodden curly hair.

"My muscles ached, I couldn't sleep, and the hot tub was no bueno, so here I am," Macy gestured to the above shower head. "I was also getting reacquainted with my body, which seems as though its been overrun by aliens—"

"Not aliens, Macy. Our babies. Plural," whispered Harry. "Do you realize just how stunning you look?" Harry ran a finger down Macy's neck to her nipple, stroking the nub, then stopped abruptly, gauging Macy's reaction.

Macy laughed. "If by "stunning," you mean engorged breasts leaking earlier than normal, and a stomach that's stretched larger than life—"

Harry put a finger to Macy's lips to silence her, and grabbed at her other breast, causing it to leak just the tiniest bit. Macy moaned loudly as Harry licked the substance off her highly sensitive nub, then kissed the most delicate part of her neck. "You are the most beautiful creature alive, my love, if only you yourself would believe it so," he murmured, now standing behind her, stroking her prominent belly, containing the results of their passionate encounter at the Portuguese ballroom.

He shivered involuntarily, recalling the moments leading up to said encounter—the brush of Macy's gauzy ballgown against his legs, her sensuous thrusts against his ever-hardening crotch, the very moment she collided with the ballroom drawers and they took things much further, as she frantically grabbed at his belt buckle, freeing his stiffened self from the suffocating fabric. How he had plunged into her hot folds at what he knew to be the peak of her cycle, locking eyes with her, realizing the raw, untamed nature of their actions, the heightened adrenaline-fueled risk they ran of getting caught, knowing that his viscous seed that soon coursed through his ducts, pulsating through his throbbing self, exploding within her, could impregnate her, his wife, allowing new life to burst into fruition in her womb, twice over.

And so it had been done. Harry now took notice of Macy's transformation as more steam gathered around them, reveling in her sumptuous breasts that enlarged over the past weeks and months and her growing abdomen, filled with his potent seed. "Mine," he growled softly in Macy's ear, causing her to exhale sharply, as he traced his erection toward the base of her spine. Macy instinctively grinded on it, causing him to groan, as he reached from behind for her breasts, cupping one in each hand as he thrust involuntarily. "Gods, Macy," he whispered in her ear. "You certainly know to torture me so." He could've sworn he saw a glimmer of a cheeky grin on Macy's visage. Determined to gain the upper hand, he bent down and began licking the highly sensitive folds that led to the warmth of her very core. Some seconds in, Macy stopped him.

12:10 am, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Master Bathroom

Puzzled, he rose to face her. "Tell me what you want," Harry murmured, as Macy turned off the tap and exited the shower, drying herself with a towel.

Beckoning Harry closer, she whispered in his ear. "A pearl necklace." Noticing Harry looked unsure of what that was, she clarified it. "You, coming all over my neck, hence the term." Ah. Harry understood now, as he dried himself off as well, and took her hand as she led him back into their bedroom.

12:12 am, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Master Bedroom

Harry checked the door to their bedroom was securely locked, then placed himself on the bed he and Macy shared, where she now lay as well. Macy noticed that the tip of his stiffened self was moistened ever-so-slightly with the essence of him, as she shivered involuntarily, in want of his soothing touch. After laying her on her side, so she was most comfortable, he proceeded to give her a massage, working out the tension that had gathered up in her upper shoulders. She groaned loudly at his efforts, and he halted. "Am I hurting you, Macy?"

"No—keep going, please." The pleading nature of the last word of this phrase struck Harry in a sensual way, knowing that the woman he loved was filled to the brim with his essence, and it was he who would deliver her of her discomfort, in whatever way he knew how. He moved his dexterous hands through the shoulder joints, remembering from his anatomy studies (in his early Whitelighter training) where the acromion met the clavicle, and the glenohumeral joint, manually soothing each of the tender muscular areas, one by one.

12:20 am, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Master Bedroom

Macy turned so that she was now on her back, her head propped up with a single down pillow, her eyes now glinting with a certain seductive quality. Harry inhaled slowly, drinking in the divine vision of his fertile Venus de Milo, the one who drove him positively mad from the very first day they met. "About that pearl necklace," she whispered. "I want you to touch yourself."

Harry's heart beat faster, as he was only too willing to comply. Beginning by drawing circles with his hardness onto Macy's swollen belly, his breath hitched as Macy added, "I mean it." Harry met her gaze as he straddled her, taking care to avoid putting any of his weight on her changing body. Grasping himself, he stroked his shaft, steadily increasing his pace, panting, as Macy rubbed his bare thighs with her outstretched hands. "Fuck, Macy—I'm close—" he whispered sharply.

"My neck," Macy murmured, and Harry aimed himself, still stroking vigorously, with a subconscious thrust here and there, feeling his lower body fill itself, pumping, throbbing, ascending the peak of his conscious mind, zeroing in on the apex. Just then, Macy drew her nails into his thighs, and he gasped aloud, as his spurts began, dotting the neck of his beloved.