Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Soren straddles my chest and grips his cock hard, guiding it to my mouth and running the tip along my lips.
A drop of precum leaks onto my chin, and I don’t hesitate to lick it up, catching the underside of Soren’s cock while I do it.
He releases a shuddery breath. “Open up.”
My mouth opens wide.
“Suck only the tip,” Soren orders, and I love it.
While I close my lips over his swollen head, Soren strokes his hard shaft.
He groans, and his hand moves faster until I feel the first spurts of his release on my tongue.
“Love you,” he grunts.
Of course he does. I’m fucking awesome.
I swallow all of him, and then he flops onto the bed next to me.
We bask in the afterglow of orgasms, but it doesn’t last long.
Soren turns his head toward me. “Are you ready to tell everyone?”
“Guess so. Still can’t believe it’s happening though.”
My husband smiles. “Oh, it’s happening.” He stands and moves toward his suitcase to pull out the photo from a sonogram last week.
It’s really happening.
“Guess I better get up. My muscles kinda don’t want me to though. They’re all … liquid-y.”
“Up,” Soren orders, and my dick thinks he’s talking to it. Though it only twitches and then dies again. So not ready for another round yet.
We throw on clothes and make our way from the exact cabin we fell in love in years ago toward the food hut.
Surprisingly, we’re the last ones to arrive. Only surprising because there are two other childless couples here, and I assumed they would be doing what we were.
But nope, there everyone is, the entire gay brigade plus a few stowaways. Seven-year-old Jackie is on her tablet with her headphones, not paying attention. Her baby brother, Noah Huntington the Fourth, is in Matt’s lap chewing on something. He’s teething, apparently. Yay, something to look forward to.
Talon and Miller’s six- and five-year-old boys, Peyton and Brady, are chasing each other around the table fighting over which NFL team they’re going to play for when they’re older. I think Talon and Miller have learned to tune them out by now. They’re eating normally as if they can’t hear their kids who are loud as fuck.
I hope my baby comes with a mute button.
God, I’m so not ready to be a parent.
But when I turn to Soren and see the smile on his face as he watches our niece and nephews, I know he’ll be enough for both of us.
I want this baby, but fuck … parenting? I’m not sure if I still qualify to look after myself even though I hit the big 3-0 this year.
I might not be ready, but Soren so is, and I promised him years ago, when he did the same to me, that we’d always give what the other needs.
We take our seats, and Soren squeezes my leg under the table.
Ooh, look, wine!
I pour myself a glass and down it while Soren chuckles.
It’s not that I’m scared to tell everyone. They’ll be ecstatic. It’s the fact saying it out loud will make it real. Well, it’s already real, but it’ll make it more real.
Soren gives me a nod.
“Hey, guys?” I croak.
Everyone turns their attention to me.
“We, umm, need to tell y’all something?” I clear my throat.
Maybe the real reason I’m freaking out is because I worry they’ll think the same way as me. That I’m not ready. That me being a father should be illegal. And there’s no way these guys will hold back. It’s them.
“The last time we were all here, it was because Noah was convinced it’d be his last time. His last hurrah. Their final play.” Little did they know they’d be back every single year.
It’s the thing that I keep reiterating to myself when the idea of being a parent becomes too much. Noah was exactly the same as me going into the parenthood thing—convinced he would fuck it up. Convinced it would change his life for the worst ways instead of the best.
Seeing him over the years with his kids gives me all the faith in the world I can pull this off. Not only did Noah pull through, he could very well be the best parent I know in this room.
He once told me that he felt like he was failing. He didn’t know if they chose the right school for Jackie, if they were giving her the right tools to be able to succeed in life. I still remember what I told him when he said, “What if I fail her?”
I looked him in the eyes and said, “The fact you care so much about failing her means you won’t.”
And as Soren slips the sonogram photo into my hand, I realize I’m going to be the same way with this child.
The reason I’m reluctant is because I’m worried I’ll turn out like my parents—that I won’t be good enough. That the kidlet deserves better.