GITJ Post 366: That was Then, This is Now, p18

He hadn't even complained when she parked in the middle of the street, in clear view of his old neighbors, to give him a blow job in the car. He’d just sat back, closed his eyes, and let it happen. She had then let him nap on the way home, the taste of him still deliciously on her lips. As she cooked for him, in her mother’s modern, well-appointed kitchen, she had been understanding when he was quiet. She knew that going to his old house to see his ex-wife chatting with his new younger girlfriend could have been stressful. She’d given him the time he needed as she made him dinner - well, she’d reheated a rotisserie chicken she’d grabbed last week, and steamed some carrots. And she didn’t melt them, like last time! Even though he didn’t eat much of her cooking - just some of the veggies - she was happy she could provide for him like this, take care of him. He’d asked for a glass of milk, all by himself, when he decided that was what he really needed. That made her smile. She wanted to make him feel comfortable tonight, but she needed him to start accepting the way things were now.

And he’d responded well, she thought. Throughout dinner, with a couple glasses of wine, he’d begun to smile more. He’d started to lighten up. He’d cracked some stupid jokes, at which she’d made sure to laugh. She wanted him to forget some of his worries and just enjoy himself. He began to get chilly, so she let him borrow an old white hoodie to wear over his scrubs, one of hers that her mom had kept. It used to fit her in middle school but, by the looks of it, it was too big on him now. The sight of him in it made her thighs tingle, but she didn’t want to say anything yet. And he didn't seem to mind that it was too large, that it was a teenage girl’s sweatshirt. It was snuggly and warm and it still actually smelled like her, and that was all that mattered. All in all, he was now having a good time, sitting here at the kitchen bar with a glass of wine after dinner, chatting. Here, away from the office and the stresses of the outside world, he began to open up again. He was still hesitating, holding back, wrapped up in that too-smart head of his. But Melissa was still in her tight white dress from work and she knew her figure - as always - provided a pleasant distraction and loosened his tongue as much as the wine. She wanted him to talk to her tonight.

“How are you feeling, any better?” she asked him, with honest concern.

“I’m fine…I guess,” he responded, lukewarmly. He took a moment to think. “Better when I’m alone with you.”

ooo yes okay okay that felt good. She smiled, actually blushing, the weapons-grade dimples of her cheeks carving lines of gladness into her face. “I like being alone with you too,” she said, her voice gentle and warm, “It just feels so…natural.”

He smiled, too, nodding in an unspoken agreement. It was strange, weird, but the connection between these two very different people was strengthening by the day. They both silently acknowledged that, and clinked glasses.

“Cheers,” he said.

“Cheers,” she giggled.

He took a sip of wine, a really nice South American malbec that she’d insisted he open, something she grabbed from her mother’s wine cellar. She hadn’t, of course, let him down there himself, but she knew exactly what flavor (is that the right word haha?) he liked, and picked it out herself.

He took another sip. “So, uh, hey,” he began, “Is there any way we can step out, maybe get some air? I think I should clear my head for a bit. Maybe a walk?” It had been so long since he’d really been outside, taken a walk. Even in the dark, it’d be nice.

“Sure sure sure, sweetie,” Melissa answered, “But hey why don’t instead we, like, head out into the backyard. The patio’s nice…”

He nodded. Okay, okay…

“...and maybe we could start a fire, cuddle up? A quiet night just you, me and the stars?” She beamed as she watched as his little face brightened at her suggestion. Was that the idea of the fire, the stars, or - hopefully - the cuddles?

“Ah, sold!” he exclaimed, suddenly putting his wine down, invigorated, “Maybe we could make some S’mores?”

Melissa’s smile grew bigger. She loved seeing him happy, seeing him enthused. It was really, truly adorable. But…

“What’s a S’more?” she asked, “The girls over the weekend, brought some stuff, had said-”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” he laughed, interrupting her, “You’ve never had a S’more?”

“No I uh-”

“Well that settles it! We’re making S’mores tonight and you’re gonna love it!” he said, jumping off of his high stool and eager to pull her along.

With her help he rummaged through her cabinets, finding the essential ingredients. Apparently there had been plans to make them on Saturday night. The girls had brought the stuff but the moment never materialized. But tonight, he’d decided: S’mores! Suddenly it was like he was a man on a mission, and she patiently indulged his zeal.

After a few minutes, they had an elegant rosewood tray laden with everything they needed. She allowed him to carry it, and slid apart the big, glass sliding doors that opened up to the backyard patio. They walked out onto it, and had a solid two acres of grass and elegant landscaping all to themselves, separated from any prying eyes by tall, tasteful hedges and a thicket of oaks, ashes and maples. With wood from the woodpile at the yard’s edge and a bit of effort the two of them managed to start a fire in the stone firepit that was built tastefully into the large patio. He’d needed to instruct her how to set up the kindling and logs, as she’d never started a fire before. But soon they had it nicely ablaze and were prepared to spend the evening together, under the clear sea of stars on this crisp evening. The fire was also burning brightly at this point, casting its warm light across the patio and onto the two lovers.

Though she didn’t really need its warmth, she sat there in an oversized hoodie of her own, soft and blue. She reclined in the mahogany Adirondack chair next to his and cursed as her third marshmallow of the night burst into flames.

“Oh poop!!” she laughed, pulling it out immediately and once again extinguishing it by grabbing it into her free hand.

He didn’t even gasp this time, she noticed. She’d told him it was cute, how alarmed he’d first been, telling her stop you’ll burn yourself! She was, somehow, now impervious to flames. He’d seen her, over the weekend, place her hand right on a hot burner on the stove, not even flinch. Now she was giggling, licking the gooey, burnt marshmallow from her palm, no worse for the wear. I could pick up one of those hot red coals, sweetie, if I wanted. It wouldn’t hurt a bit.

He had to stop letting this sort of thing freak him out. His girlfriend was not only - along with, it seemed, his entire female staff - growing taller at a rapid rate, but was also developing abilities that he struggled to be able to explain, that baffled all his years of medical education. Powerful breath, super strength, she’d healed his hickey with a laying-on of hands - and now this invulnerability to heat? What else was this girl capable of? And, he thought, with a private shiver, what was she going to be capable of a year from now, if she continued to develop these..let’s call them what they are…powers. It was like something out of one of the comic books he’d loved reading when he was younger, the strong superheros he'd secretly worshiped. But now he was dating one, a budding heroine.

Or is she going to turn out to be the villain?

He shook off his intrusive thoughts, and - shivering in a private chill - pulled the thin blanket she’d put over his legs closer. “Here, let’s try this,” he said, putting a new marshmallow on her stick and redirecting her to get this right. There was a proper part of the fire to use, and a right distance at which to keep it. For all her strengths and physical capabilities, Melissa couldn’t roast a marshmallow for shit. Apparently, she’d never done it as a kid. Her childhood was, by her accounts, full of constant travel, and she didn’t have much to call her own. Her mother certainly didn’t have a home as extravagant as this for her and her sister growing up, with its bluestone patio complete with built-in fire pit, outdoor kitchen and beautiful mahogany furniture. They’d never even gone camping.

“Omigod delicious!” she raved, big eyes wide as she took her first bite of the little graham-cracker and chocolate-bar sandwich he’d made for her. A finger came to the corner of her lips, catching some of the gooey white sugar of the perfectly done marshmallow the two of them had roasted. They’d cooked it together, watching it start to turn a nice, gentle brown, even starting to smoke and bubble a little. At some point it almost fell off her stick, and she giggled as he helped her recover. Finally, it was done, slightly crispy on the outside, and perfect to slide between the two crackers and melt the chocolate just enough before-

“So yummy!!” she gushed, taking the next bite and then, immediately, insisting that they make another. “I’m so glad the girls brought this stuff over on Saturday! Too bad we didn’t even use it. S'mores are amazing!”

“Yeah…right…this weekend,” he mumbled, suddenly pensive again, sitting forward in his chair and poking around the fire’s embers with his own roasting stick. He watched as Melissa began to put another marshmallow on her stick, prepared to fix up another s’more. She promised she’d let him have some of it.

Though seemingly intent on her task - I am not going to burn this one - she was reading his demeanor loud and clear, sensing his anxiety. She glanced at him, deciding to be quiet as she slid her stick into the fire, into the perfect position to roast her next marshmallow. He hadn’t said anything further, but she felt a dark little thrill of excitement when she uncannily knew that he was about to ask-

“So, uh,” he began, reaching for a marshmallow, putting it on the tip of his own stick, “Sheryl said something about a video? From this weekend?”

“Omigosh so fun,” Melissa giggled, herself recalling the amazing moments from Friday, Saturday, Sunday as she watched him put his marshmallow into the flames. The date, the visit to the TV station, the mall with Shanette. And then of course the pool, dinner with all the girls and - bnnnghrrrrrar - bed with him, Sunday with him, the whole weekend with him. They had all grown together as friends, as a family…and they had all just plain grown. Well, haha, not him. Quite the opposite. And some of it made its way online.

“Did, like, someone post something I should know about?” he asked, watching her marshmallow slowly start to brown, not paying as much attention to his, “My phone’s dead so I, uh, couldn’t check…”

I can’t show that to him, not yet, not tonight. He’ll freak.

Simply crossing her legs, bare in the crisp night air, grabbed his attention. Her right leg came over her left, muscles bulging. He was suddenly distracted, suddenly appreciating the immensity of her shapely legs, and he swallowed audibly. He felt immediately the familiar sense of anxiety resurface, and he tried to stop it in its tracks. Why should it bother him if Melissa’s taller than him? Younger, physically superior? She was the sweetest woman he'd ever met, even if she was two sandwiches short of a picnic, or a little nuts. She was certainly the first woman he’d been with that would try to cook a s’more for him.

Speaking of - ahhhg!

His marshmallow was on fire!!

Melissa giggled, watching him blow blow blow at the flaming inferno at the end of his stick. She quietly resisted the temptation to use a puff of her own breath to extinguish it for him. I might blow him off the patio haha. Eventually though, even with his little lungs, he had it snuffed out and he was shaking his head, admonishing himself for having lost focus again. She was amused by how dumbfounded and distracted he could get every now and then. That, she knew, glancing down at her bare, womanly thighs, may be her fault…ok, it’s totally my fault.

She took her stick out, on whose end her marshmallow sat toasted brown and perfect. “Don’t worry sweetie,” she told him, gently urging him to lower his stick, letting the ashen remnants of his attempt fall back into the fire, “we can use mine.”

He couldn't help but notice she’d gotten very good at roasting marshmallows, very quickly. She had an uncanny ability to pick up these talents pretty quickly. Unless they involved like, math, or spelling maybe. He watched her make another s’more, and allowed her to feed him the first bite. Yum. Pretty good, actually. Solid food hadn’t been his thing for a while now, but when she made it it tended to be a bit more palatable; he’d noticed that with the carrots earlier. Something about her making it just made everything taste better for some reason. Yum yum. He was given another bite, and another, and soon the s’more was all gone.

They spent the next few minutes laughing a little together, musing on the possibility of running away and opening up a s’more shack somewhere out in the mountain wilderness (her idea), or down on some southern beach (his), just the two of them, charging passer-bys for their gourmet offerings. She liked the chilly mountainside idea, with its promise of nighttime snuggles, where he suggested the beach because, uh, bikinis.  “Grab your wine, tiger,” she instructed him with a laugh and a slap to his knee, standing up, “let’s go look at the stars…”

She helped him from his chair with an offered hand, and it was with clasped palms that they stepped off the patio, away from the fire, out into the yard. A few swipes on her phone and the outside lights were off, as were any interior lights. She wanted it nice and dark for this.

The little hillock at the edge of the woods would be perfect. Nice soft grass, away from it all. The fire still burned, flickering maybe a hundred yards away, but it was now the stars that would light their way. She’d grabbed the thin blanket he’d been using earlier as something for them to sit on. Down on their backs they lay, next to one another, and gazed up at the heavens.

“Wow,” was his first reaction, “would you look at that.” It had been a long time - too long - since he’d had the chance to stargaze. It was honestly a little bit magical.

Melissa laid next to him as he stared up at the stars. While the show from the sky provided a diversion, distracting him again, she felt him shiver a bit. Without the blanket over him, he was likely getting cold. She snuggled in towards him to provide heat from her larger body. It made her smile when she felt him instinctively nestle in closer to her right side.

“Ooo look, there’s Andromeda…” he spoke, pointing skyward.

She followed the direction of his hand, looking up. “Who?”

“Andromeda, the constellation,” he explained, “Look…”

He pointed it out. Andromeda was a group of nine main stars, and with his help and little imagination she could picture it, the chained woman. Named after a princess in Greek mythology. “See?” he told her, pointing emphatically up at the constellation,  “Andromeda was chained to a rock by her mother as a sacrifice to a big sea monster. The gods had been angered when Andromeda’s mother claimed that her daughter was more beautiful than even them, but she was rescued by Perseus, a hero who fell in love with her.”

Melissa listened quietly. She loved it. It was so cute when he got all excited, let his guard down and shared himself with her. She especially loved it when he told her that he thought she looked a lot like Andromeda, with her long dark hair and beautiful eyes. She smiled and said that she was flattered. Prettier than the gods, huh?

“Wow you know a lot,” she said, when he began to talk of the Andromeda galaxy, which they might have been able to see with a good set of binoculars.

“You mean that blurry, like, spiral patch up there?” she asked, pointing up into the constellation.

“You can see that?” he asked, squinting himself. The naked, human eye shouldn’t be able to find it; he certainly couldn’t. “But, uh, yeah…” he continued, shaking off the feeling that he was laying down in the grass next to something more than human, “I took some astronomy classes at Amherst. I really like this stuff.”

As they lay there, Melissa thought about how lucky she was to have found the man she loved. He was kind, funny, and intelligent, and he made her feel like the most special woman in the world. She knew that they would be together forever, and that thought filled her with joy.

He pointed out Cassiopeia next.

“She’s Andromeda’s mother. See those five bright stars in the shape of a ‘W’?”

Melissa nodded, and pouted. “Doesn’t Cassio…uh…”

“Cassiopeia?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t that start with a ‘C’? Or, like, a ‘K’?”

“Uh…it doesn’t work that way,” he said, reminding himself who he was talking to. “The constellation was named after Andromeda’s vain queen mother, who dared to compare herself and her daughter to the gods. They weren’t amused, and they punished Cassiopeia by putting her up in the night sky. See?” he pointed out, “Can you imagine her chained to a throne up there?”

Despite Jay’s obvious mansplaining and the fact that that ‘W’ definitely did not look like a chained-up queen, Melissa was nonetheless impressed by his storytelling. To him, the heavens were miraculous. She hadn’t known this about Jay, before tonight, how he felt about astrology. Or had he said astronomy? Whatever. She could tell that the night sky, with its myriad of stars and patterns of constellations, gave him a sense of peace and belonging to something huge, and to him that was a comforting thought. But, to her the stars made everything else feel smaller, and herself less significant in the grand scheme of things. I don’t know if I like that.

He was going on and on about how beautiful they were, the stars, about how they were some celestial ‘miracle’. She on the other hand began thinking about him, and about their future. Strange ideas began to coalesce in her head. Well I guess I have to get more beautiful than the heavens, she thought, so he wants to look only at me.

Beside her, on her right, she felt him shiver. But he kept talking about the g-damn stars and he doesn’t even know he’s cold.

She sat up a bit and rotated at the hips, turning towards him. Her right hand propped her up, while the other hand  took his wine - a stemless glass so it wouldn't spill as easily - off his chest where he’d held it balanced. His eyes, of course, shifted from the stars to her and he watched  as she began to slowly unzip her sweatshirt. She took her time revealing the bodice of her white dress and all the cleavage underneath her modest hoodie. She leaned over him, slowly putting his wineglass on his far side. Effectively, she blotted out his view of the sky, so he could no longer see the stars. He could see only her. I think they call this an eclipse.

“Now, do you want to tell me about the dream you had?” she asked.

She watched his mind stop, and then start again. For her, there was enough light so she could read every little twitch on his face as he was brought back to remember the dream-thing.

“H-how did you know..?” he asked, suddenly confused.

“Call it…” she began, now placing her left hand down on the ground next to his right shoulder, planting it there and her massive breasts right above his face, “...women’s intuition.” She smirked, seeing how his attention was now one hundred percent focused on her. There you go, there are some heavenly bodies. Despite her distraction, she could tell that he was now more anxious, more freaked out, feeling more afraid having the events of the day rekindled. Even with the beautiful night and now the jaw-dropping scenery, he was having thoughts. Too many thoughts, sweetie, just speak. Tell mama your troubles. She could, of course, let herself flow. She could override his anxieties with her perfumes, loosen his tongue, maybe get him horny and placate him and then put him to bed. It was hard to get him to open up on his own; pheromones could make it easy. But she knew she should maybe try it the old fashioned way…talking.

She knew the dream hadn't been normal. There was something off about it, something crafty. Brianna and Sammi had worked with it, but she could tell there was more to it and she wanted to find out what it was, where it really came from, and the only way to do that was to let him talk.

To Melissa he began to describe the dream he had earlier today, when he’d passed out from the shock of finding his apartment ransacked.  “It was a good dream, I was in control, I felt healthy and good,” he explained, after describing how he’d lifted the vending machine off of…who was that again? “I was…everyone was…back to, like, normal, I guess.”

“Mmmm, okay….” Melissa purred. She took the moment to lift her left hand, brush a lock of hair behind his ear. He was, basically, speaking right up into her breasts. Each of them was quite a bit bigger than his head. ”Like you were back to being the boss, huh? Really in charge?” she asked, “What’s that feel like to think about now, hm Jay?”

That brought him pause. Under the hovering mass of her bosom he pictured being taller again, the girls all back to their normal heights. He imagined being able to march out of his office and tell them the way things were going to be like it was, early in his dream.

His stomach turned.

“It makes me feel weird.” Did he just say that out loud?

In her mighty chest, Melissa’s heart swelled. Rather than laugh, sigh, or drop down to lovingly smother the life out of her precious little lover-man, she pressed on. “So, what happened in the dream next?” she asked. Below her, she felt his mind squirm, looking for an out. His stammering started, and he became even more evasive as he remembered what happened after Others had taken the reins of his half-conscious state. “Then,” she heard him say, “it turned into a nightmare.”

It distressed him, obviously, to recount what happened, but he did his best. Unlike most dreams, where images and feelings disappear almost immediately upon awakening, this one had stuck with him. He was able to describe how he felt surrounded, the crackling alarm of the radio, and how he had shrunk. Shrunk shrunk shrunk while…uh…

“While what, honey?” she asked.

While shrinking up to a tiny cretin on your ass, while your friends watched.

She could tell how embarrassed he was, how ashamed he was.  She would spare him the indignity of making him speak more about it. What she could see roiling around in that adorable little head of his, though imperfect, told her all that she needed to know. In the meantime he was shivering below her and she wanted nothing more than to just make him warm. ”Well, that was the dream, sweetie, and this is now,” she assured him, allowing the first zephyrs of perfume to waft from her chest, “But tell me…what else is bothering you?”

Oh my god, where to start. With a sigh - and a deep breath - he began to list his litany of stresses, past the nightmare, past the apartment. There was seeing Sheryl, there was whatever happened this weekend, and of course there was his health. He was still fucking shrinking.

She could feel his unease, how emasculated he felt admitting it to her again. She tried her best not to let it excite her too much, because it made her feel a little bad. But she couldn’t help but explore this just a little, this growing size difference between the two of them and what it was doing to his psyche. ”Does me getting taller freak you out too?”

Sparks and jitters, between them both. Unconsciously she was letting her body lower itself, her shapely torso approaching his face. The open sides of her hoodie draped on either side of his head, closing him in. She expected him to start to fuss, to bleat out his complaints, to voice what she suspected any man would who found their girlfriend towering nearly two feet taller than them.

“Y-you getting taller? Freak me out?” he repeated, breathing in the warmth from her bosom, allowing its comforting air to start to cradle him, “n-n-no…” He paused. “I kinda like it.”

OOOooooo

She couldn’t help it, that excited her. A new wave of pheromones flowed off her chest and she inched in closer to him.

”H-how about the other girls?” she asked, hearing the arousal in her own voice, “Have you seen how much they’re growing?” Purposefully, she drew a deep breath, so that her expansive swath of cleavage now bulged and burgeoned and all but utterly burst in front of him. She knew that she was all he could see, that even in the dark she filled his world. Fuck the stars, she thought, look at me. “Growing…”

“a-a-are they?” he stammered, and his mind was racing. He was anxious, now, the blur of a weekend rising in its pink, murky haze, women swelling inside of it, just beyond the reach of his vision. What was going on? What was wrong with his head?!?

She knew what he was thinking. He was thinking he needed to see a therapist.

“Honey, baby,” she purred, “I’m going to get you some help. We’ll have our own therapist, a whole team of them, in the new wing. We’re going to get you the best therapy in the world…” Her nipples were hardening.

“O-okay…”

“I told you we have an appointment all set up for us,” she said, beginning to get breathless, imagining it all, knowing what they were going to be able to do together, “we’re going to help you regress, regress…”

“Oh my god, Melissa…” he groaned, suddenly sounding overcome..

Haha I didn’t even realize my hand was down there.

“...it’ll be so good for you…”

Might as well stroke him. She’d undid the tie for his scrubs, her hand was in his pants.

“...we’re going to get rid of allll that stress…”

Oh god he’s so hard for me. Jesus…

“…get you some regression therapy.”

She could no longer help herself, she needed to do this. Smoothly, swiftly, Melissa sat all the way up. She’d reached under his thin body and spun him towards her. His head and his shoulders were on her lap. There we go, that’s better.

“In the meantime you’re gonna get some me therapy,” she said remembering her talks with Shanette. Her hand reached to gather the thin blanket that had been underneath him and was still underneath her and his lower body. She wrapped it around him, using it to bundle him to herself, while at the same time lowering the neckline of her dress below her left breast, and pulling her breast out of her bra. “Here you go, here you go sweetie, you remember this,” she breathed, arousal making her voice more husky, deeper, “boob therapy, nipple sucking, dry nursing…let me make you feel better.”

She felt him, below the wrap of the thin blanket, balk at the idea of dry nursing. He was irritable and just shocked and a bit resistant because of his silly pride. But she knew it wouldn’t take much.

“It’s just you and me here…” she whispered to him, to the little papoose of a man she held in her arms. She swaddled him to her more tightly, allowing the full heavy flesh of her breast to squash against his little face.  “I know you’re nervous, I know you don’t know how this can help…” she purred, “...but you might be forgetting how endowed I am.”

At that, she leaned down into him, gathered her shoulders around him. Under the blanket, his entire world must now be boob. She let her warmth flow over him, let her perfumes cradle him and become his oxygen. She was all he needed, she knew that. “More nipple sucking,” she said, “I want more nipple sucking.”

She cooed, she moaned and shivered when she felt, from under the blanket, his mouth come around her and begin to suck. Just a few sucks at first, but then he repositioned and really latched on. Oh my god, Jay, yes. Yes yes yes little man, suck on mommy. He began to dry-nurse in earnest.

Suddenly, she began to silently curse her clothes, and she utterly despised his. They should be naked, out here, the two of them in the night. She considered ripping his from him, and flexing herself so maybe she could burst right from her own. But no, the moment was gentle, she could have him this way. Her hand went back down into his pants, and their cuddling progressed. They were quiet, for a while, he just suckling on her, the two of them just happy and content to be this close. In her mind, she began seeing the picture being painted, a portrait of what life could be like for them. She’ll keep him home safe and happy and healthy while she helps build the great big new world around him. He’ll have no worries, no responsibilities. It’ll be his purpose to be drowned in pleasure.

At some point, he came in her hand. He soiled his pants. At another point, he came again. He napped, she thought, for a short time, only to awake and start suckling again. She cooed and clucked and told him what a good boy he was, over and over and over again. She looked up, after a time, to see that clouds had moved in. Oh, all your pretty little stars are gone. It was like they had retreated, in deference to her. I guess I’m  your whole universe now. She giggled, and snuggled him tighter.

In her comforts, he’d began to drift. She knew he was tiring, and that he should really sleep, for real.

“Oh, sweetie, Jay darling, it’s getting late…” she said, pride swelling at the motherly tone she heard in her own voice, “maybe we should get you home. You wanted to go home, right?”

From below the blanket, from at her breast, she heard only a whine. His body tensed, a bit, in her arms.

She smiled.

“What? What’s that?” she asked, a wry curl now coming to her lips, her dimples, “I couldn’t hear you honey.”

More whining, from him, a mewl and whimper.

She kept herself from laughing. You’re too adorable. “Aw, you don’t want to go home tonight, do you?” she asked.

At her breast, nipple still in his mouth, he shook his head.

“No, you don’t, I didn’t think so,” she purred, “That’s okay sweetie, you can stay with me. I’m all the therapy you need. It’s been hard, so hard for you. I just want to make you feel better.”

Immediately, he was relaxing. And at that, she allowed herself another giggle.

“Are you excited to come to bed with mama tonight?” she asked.

More movement, his head at her breast, nodding. Yes.

Oh my god she could almost hear it. She could almost really hear it: yes mommy.

“Good, good boy,” she purred, petting him through the blanket, “And what do you want to do with mama tonight, hm? What do you want to do together?”

To that, to her question, he just murmured, and burrowed further into her breast, suckling, nuzzling. But, this time, she could hear his thoughts, clear as day his answer, a single word:

this.

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so we're away for the week on vacation here at teamBasic, so this one will have to hold everyone over for a little bit. But stay tuned, some B-sides from this boring old Monday are one their way and we'll have a new post from a new day soon after.

thanks once more to RiF for editing, inspiration and contribution to this one, along with brother Ankle4u for the base image in the IG Stargazing thingy.