44: HM2V: Double Entendre Delight
9 pm, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Living Room
"Who's Daddy's proper little Whitelighter? Who's Daddy's little diamond?" Macy heard Harry playfully saying from upstairs.
"I am! I am!" Macy smiled into her decaf coffee as she sat on the living room couch. It had been weeks since she last set foot back in their condo, and she had been petrified at the thought it would be in utter shambles. But she needn't have worried; Harry, as always, had kept the place miraculously spotless—not a single dust bunny to be seen. They still had one more week until Morgana reevaluated the modified bedrest order, but as Macy hadn't had a subsequent episode of early labor, they figured that she could still return if Harry held her in his arms for the few seconds it took to do a transatlantic voyage.
9:30 pm, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Living Room
Macy read and reread the Hypnos paragraphs, now complete, alongside the slightly-more-polished draft of her most recent conceptual framework. Matias had had the foresight to take Macy's laptop to the Azores as he portaled via the she-shed, knocking on Epicenter Pico No. 23's door to drop it off. Harry answered within seconds, carrying it to the coffee table, where it now lay.
Was this the best she could do? Macy thought to herself, mulling the question over in her mind. She had done as thorough of a review as she possibly could, combing through the most recent published articles on her topic. She had synthesized the information, adding an analysis she believed was second-to-none. All she had to do now was provide the draft to her beta reader.
She meant to give Harry the updated version weeks ago, but between finding new articles online and subsequent updates to her own work, Maya's training with Abigael, and Harry himself having to keep up the Epicenter Pico condo and Vera Manor, things had understandably fallen to the wayside.
9:32 pm, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Living Room and Kitchen
She heard Harry's footsteps as he descended the spiral staircase, closing the door behind him. "Maya's finally asleep," he said wearily as he walked over and sat next to her on the living room sofa, leaning his head on her shoulder, eyes closed, sniffing the luxurious scent of cloves, cinnamon, and guava.
"Mmmmm…" he whispered in her ear. "Nice perfume." Macy giggled, her lovely curls springing forth, encircling her entrancing visage.
"Eau de smoothie, more like," she replied impishly, pointing to the kitchen counter, which had a blender sitting atop, filled more than halfway with frozen fruit, almond milk, and fruit from Faial Market (pre-sliced coconut and sun-ripened guava).
"Love," Harry implored. "I thought we talked about this—modified bedrest means very little moving!"
"Oh, I know," Macy replied airily as Harry rose to examine the blender more closely. "I used telekinesis to open and close both the fridge and freezer doors, take out the fruit, and place the blender on the countertop. But I still can't figure out how to turn the blender on when I can't see the button from this angle," she continued, now appearing genuinely disconcerted.
"Oh, like this you mean?" And with a tiny click, Harry switched on the blender. He kept the machine whirring for fifteen seconds upon which time the smoothie ingredients had been pureed into an icy dessert. He then unplugged the blender, pouring the fruit concoction into two separate glasses, which he brought to the living room coffee table.
"Cheers," they said in unison, and drank.
9:35 pm, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Living Room
Macy pushed her laptop onto Harry's lap. "Is this—?"
She nodded. "The new-and-improved Hypnos analysis and conceptual framework. For your review, beta reader."
"Alrighty then, so it shall begin." His eyes skimmed the first sentence in the page, then the second, third, fourth, and so on, proceeding from the introductory paragraph to the body paragraphs, checking for any errors or substantive inconsistencies integral to the topic. He turned track changes on, adding a few comments here and there, plus a couple of grammar items.
Macy hadn't realized how this was affecting her until he turned to her. "Love, can you please stop digging into my arm? It hurts so…"
"Oh—sorry, Harry. I think—I'm just—just a bit anxious, is all. Y'know, getting something published solo and all that." Macy unfurled her talons from Harry's alabaster-hued skin, noticing the slivered moon-like marks and reddened indentations sprinkled throughout his forearm. "Jeez…I'm really sorry about that. Do you need anything?" Macy knew her husband was a powerful Whitelighter with his own built-in healing mechanism, but she couldn't help but ask, all the same.
"How about…" Harry pondered for a moment. "How about I sit on our bed in the other room and make the edits there, so I can gather my thoughts without your getting nervous?"
"Sounds good, Harry. Take your time." Harry took the laptop with him and closed the door to their bedroom.
Macy looked down at the two half-filled smoothie glasses and sighed, using her telekinesis once more, this time to put Harry's glass in the freezer so it would still be cold upon his return.
9:50 pm, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Living Room
The door opened and Harry emerged.
"Where's my laptop?" Macy asked, looking up at him with questioning eyes.
"I turned it off," he replied. "I made a few comments and grammatical notes here and there, but really Macy—I think you're almost ready for a resubmit."
"Really?" Macy nearly shrieked excitedly.
Harry nodded, bending over to kiss Macy's forehead. "You've really put forth a superb effort Dr. Valensi." He glanced at the coffee table. "You haven't by any chance seen—?"
"Your smoothie's in the freezer, I didn't want it to melt while you were helping me out." Harry's eyes shone as he retrieved the smoothie glass and headed back to the sofa where Macy had been the whole time.
9:52 pm, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Living Room
Harry sipped the remainder of the smoothie. "Absolutely divine, if I may say so, Dr. Valensi," he murmured, kissing her on the lips.
"Oh, Harry," Macy whispered, grinning cheekily. "You certainly taste…delectable." She ran her slender fingers through Harry's own, then upward, to his forearm, kissing the marks she had left earlier. Her index finger traced the myriad indentations that dotted his pallor, akin to the Waning Crescent phase of the lunar cycle, thought Macy, which she recalled learning about ages ago in a sophomore 2nd semester astronomy class. She heard Harry draw his breath in sharply, and a rather naughty idea occurred to her.
"Did you ever think about how "lit," as in "literary review," rhymes with "clit"?" Macy asked Harry, while continuing to rub his forearm ever-so-sensuously.
"N-no—" Harry stammered, momentarily caught off guard. "I was, however, thinking back to my own dissertation cock-up decades ago…"
Macy raised an eyebrow. "Do tell, Mr, Valensi…"
"Well," Harry began, "my dissertation was positively bulging at the seams with mistakes, as I attempted to adhere to overly rigid deadlines while avoiding relentless criticism."
"Oh, really?" asked Macy, attempting to sound innocent, her hand now encircling his knee. "Did you do a dry run?"
Harry shook his head. "The deadline came too fast—I was forced to do without when it came to my oral argument. Erect posture and all I went down to the auditorium, which was quite wet—"
"Did you slip?" Macy inquired, the corners of her mouth twitching into a cheeky grin.
Seemingly oblivious, Harry continued. "As a matter of fact," he paused. "I most certainly did. The blasted damp London air caused me to stumble—I fell on my face, and my pants front was utterly soaked."
"The education committee must have had a shock—" Macy began.
"Luckily, it was too dark to notice," replied Harry. "I was scared stiff, facing a hard-to-please crowd with its punishing remarks and all. Fortunately, I scraped by—passed with decent enough marks, and well, as they say, the rest is history."
Harry then placed his empty smoothie glass in the sink and orbed Macy to the master bathroom, where they brushed their teeth, flossed, and prepared for bed.
10 pm, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23, Master Bedroom
Harry's eyes widened as he had a sudden realization. Oh. Oh. Oh my…Had Macy been trying to speak in double entendres this entire time? He saw her blooming form on the opposite end of the king bed turned away from him and decided to investigate. "I have some feedback on your article, Macy," he whispered in her ear.
"Harry, it's already ten—"
"I found the body of your paragraphs quite beautiful—a pleasure read, really," he began, brushing a lone curl from her bare shoulder.
"Oh really?" Macy responded, turning around slowly to face him, a cheeky grin etched on her visage. "Is there…anything else you'd like to report?" Harry drew closer to her form, rotund with his seed, and he shivered involuntarily.
"It was quite a tight argument, but flexible too I daresay," he whispered. "Smooth enough too, to—" he reached under her silken nightgown to fondle her breast, "—insert comments," he murmured, causing Macy to gasp.
"So—it came together—very nicely?" Macy attempted to steady her voice, squirming involuntarily all the while beneath her husband's sensual touch.
"Absolutely. There's just a couple of things," responded Harry, now snaking his arm around his wife's toned legs and rounded belly, filled to the brim with life.
"What's that?"
"Well, Dr. Valensi, it seems I need to do a file transfer, then unzip the file, but there seems to be a slight catch in the plan."
"The catch being?" Macy reached up to Harry's face to stroke his dark curls.
"That—" Harry's breath hitched, "—your assets are simply too large to bundle," he murmured, closing his eyes and inhaling Macy's natural and altogether intoxicating scent.
"Given your predicament," Macy drew an exaggerated sigh, "I'm wide open to suggestions."
"And you'll just have to grab my column and peg away, won't you?" Harry's eyes grew dark and smoldering. "Assuming—of course—it's safe?" he whispered. Macy nodded.
"Absolutely, Mr. Valensi, without a doubt." Macy reached under Harry's boxers for his erect shaft, freeing it from its cloth confinement; rubbing her thumb against the head, she licked its silvery drops, causing Harry to groan loudly.
"Good gods, Macy, you'll be the death of me," he muttered through his involuntary thrusts, though he showed no signs of wanting her to stop. Macy took this as a sign of wanton encouragement and enveloped him in her mouth completely, causing his fists to tightly clench the sheets between them. She continued her deep explorations, from root to shaft to head, repeating those meditative motions, finding her own sensuous rhythm for the next moments as he writhed beneath her heady touch.
She could already feel his balls moving upwards, contracting, seizing of their accord. "M-Macy, love, soon—"
"On me," she all but ordered, and he complied, pulling himself from her mouth. Leaning back he aimed, causing spurts of sheer ecstasy to emanate in rivulets over her engorged breasts.