busy body!
wc: 3.6k
have your babies,
it’s been eight month since you and your husband made the decision to start your family. eight months since he swore to you in the bathtub the you’d never have to have another issue at work because he’d be there to take care of you. and for all those eight months he’s been doing just that. he’s been there through the first trimester morning sickness, which you’d like to point out it last way longer than just the morning; the mood swings, the tears, the doctors appointments, the bodily changes, all of it. in just five more weeks the two of you would be expecting a health baby girl.
…in five weeks, five.
it’s not like the two of you have been fucking around the entirety of your pregnancy, it’s just that there had been different priorities at the time. ones that did not include nursery set up. all her items where tossed into the spare room closed off from the rest of the condo behind a solid white door. the thought of going in there and tackling the hanging of her teeny tiny outfits and assembling the furniture really stressed you out for a long time. so naturally you put it off. onyankopon would try and do what he could, but when his woman calls he always comes.
today he unfortunately couldn’t stay home, something something property site, plumbing, needed a supervisor? whatever he said last night. moral of the story is he’s not here to start the process again. you got out of bed right after he left and started cleaning. but not the baby’s room, no something in your brain told you that before you could start anything in there you had to clean the toaster oven, reorganize all of the cabinets, purge the refrigerator, and change all the lights in the kitchen. he’d kill you if he ever found out you climbed up the ladder with nobody home, but what he don’t know won’t hurt him.
and finally three o’clock shines on the stove in green numbers when you finish. with a sigh of relief you make your way to babygirl’s room taking in the messy scene. diapers staked high in the corner, wooden chunks that were supposed to be her crib lay scattered across the floor, pink and frilly outfits, and bibs from the baby shower still in their gift bags, and so much more you don’t even know where to start!
easy task first you suppose, you drag the ladder from the kitchen to her closet and shove all diapers on the very top shelves that line the walls. all organize by how many months she’d be. you think the blue of the boxes ruins the vibe of the closet but you’ll deal with that later. next is all the tiny baby clothes. you spent 45 minutes ripping off tags alone before you spent another hanging them up sorting them by the month and the shades. you find yourself getting teary eyed when you think about her. so small and sweet. you hold her little knitted booties up and the tears fall leaving you a sniveling mess.
but you must suck it up, this crib won’t build itself! it’s a pretty simple piece to do. most parts are premade you just have to stick them together and make sure that are as safe as can be. it takes no more than 30 uninterrupted minutes to complete. it’s so cute you gush at the thought of her little sleepy self balled up on the cushion. the rug is heavier than you’d like to admit but you’ll deal. it’s large and mostly cream with some accents of the light pink that matches the curtains you’re supposed to be hanging up. you roll it out, shifting the fabric under the crib was quite difficult but if you had left it your spirit would be bothered and nothing else would get done.
the room was coming together but it was missing something. you gasp when the image of the cream colored reclining chair from the living room pops in your head. it’s perfect! it’ll fit right next to the window and you can nurse seated comfortably! you mentally praise yourself for being so smart. time slips away from you though and you don’t seem to notice the lack of energy in the house too focused on the task at hand. you’re mid shuffle with the chair when the door unlocks, leaving you frozen in place.
your husband looks at you looking at him. and then he looks down at the swell of your belly peaking out from the low hanging sweat pants on your waist and the tight wife beater you wear. and then he looks at how you stand there with sweat on your brow line and the recliner halfway across the living room.
“the hell are you doing?” he asks cocking a brow at you. i mean he can clearly see what you’re doing but he wonders what you’ll say.
“hey baby, welcome home! i’m just— you know! i just think this chair would go great in her room and you weren’t home so i, ya know?” you tell him a whole bunch of nothing basically, but the way he drops his keys into the tray on the small table you can tell he’s pissed.
he steps towards you with heavy footsteps watching you like a hawk. he stands there sizing you up before turning his head to the kitchen notice the lights are warmer. he looks back to you and in a low voice he ask.
“did you change the lights?”
you frown knowing he won’t be please with your answer so you do what anybody guilty would do, deflect!
“oh so you get to come home and question me without a greeting? no ‘hey mama how was your day,’” you mock the depth of his voice, “or a hello kiss? nothing?”
his hard expression falters for a moment, he sighs and leans down grabbing your cheeks in one hand and placing a nice sweet kiss on your slightly chapped lips.
“sorry, mama how was your day? did you change the lights?” he asked again. fuck, it didn’t work. you nod in his hand lowering your gaze. he stares at you blankly unsure of how to word whatever he says next.
“i’m assuming you got on that ladder after i told you not to?”
you nod, he takes a deep breath letting your face go.
he doesn’t say a word, just kind of moves you out the way and lifts up the chair without so much as a grunt and taking it to her room. you trail behind him feeling real anxious because you know for a fact that you left the ladder and all other tools out in the open for him to see. you don’t enter the room with him, you hear the chair thud against the ground and his footsteps approaching.
he grabs you by the hands and pulls you to the seat in the corner making you plop down in it.
“you like it here or should i move it?” he ask.
“are you mad at me?”
“do you like the chair here, or should i move it?” he ignores your question asking you again. you can see he is trying to remain calm and patient while he awaits your answer.
“it perfect here, just where i wanted it, thank you.” you mutter looking down at your lap. you’re upset that he ignored your question, you feel the pressure behind your eyes and you try not to cry but you can’t help the tears that slip out onto the fabric of your beater.
“(❤︎︎), stop.” he crouches down infront of you his tone firm.“don’t cry, i ain’t mad at you. i’m just— worried that’s all. i told you i don’t want you on that ladder because you’re very pregnant and it’s not safe. i don’t even let my guys on one without a spot, because i know what could happen, and god forbid it happens to you.” he tells you grabbing your hands in his. “i don’t want to sound harsh but people die, baby. i need you to listen and understand when i tell you these things, seriously.” he stands bringing you up with him.
he has your face in his hands again giving you a soft delicate kiss moving his other hand over the swell of your tummy. “you got my girl in here and i’d raise hell if something happened to any of you.” warm fingers wipe away your tears so gently, the guilt you felt dwindled at his words. he won’t even bother mentioning how you didn’t let him help decorate, that’s for another time.
the two of you call it a night after you calm down. you couldn’t even begin to explain how exhausted you were going the whole day with a nap to distracted by all the task you were stuck on doing.
a warm shower with your husband and simple quality time unwinding was all you needed. your night gown a pretty shade of pink left nothing to the imagination. it clung to every swell, dip, and curve on you. your tummy held up your breast so well that if you moves too much he’d catch a slip of your areola. not the point.
onyankopan sets the bed just how you like it. two pillows acting as a crib on the edge of the bed and the flattest on for your head. his arm was usually used at the cushion anyways and a fat pillow would make it too high giving your a neck ache by morning.
you waddle back to him slowly body feeling so heavy you can’t wait for your body to hit the sheets. and when it does you can’t help but sigh in content. you ask him his thoughts about the nursery in a slow sleepy tone trying to make conversation before bed given you hadn’t really seen him all day. he praises your work, and he’s glad that you’re pleased, but he can hear the tired in your voice. “you ready to sleep, beautiful? we can talk more about it the tomorrow okay? i’ll buy whatever’s left, we can make a list.” his tone so soft and his touch too . and hand holds your belly gently rubbing and running his hands around the circumference. you cup his face tiredly giving him a goodnight kiss whispering hushed ‘i love yous’ and before you know you’re out like a light.
you wake suddenly in a cold sweat. a firm hand still placed on your stomach reminds you where you are. it’s not a bad dream that’s got you choked up. unfortunately, it was worse, a wet one. you found yourself dreaming about the night you had gotten pregnant. dreams of his dirty words in your ear. the ways he touched you. the way his ring felt cold against you skin when he bounced you like a bunny up and down in your bathtub.
fuck. you couldn’t help yourself. your husband laid there behind you so sexy and muscular. tattoos out on display and face so calm and comfortable. his breath hot on your neck and the way he held you— so secure in his arms, you can help but push back against him. but the rolling of you hips wasn’t enough. god, you wish you weren’t so huge you could just turn around with ease and rub your cunt along his length like you use to. not to mention all your energy had been killed earlier doing all the stuff you weren’t supposed to be doing you found it extra difficult to move around. you’d really hate to wake him up over something so stupid, especially after he was at work all day, your poor boy probably really needed his rest. it’s okay, you can fix this. you move slowly trying not to move his hand that lays over your belly and you part your legs just enough you can squeeze your hands between them.
your nighty is short, thank god. you only had to shuffle it up a little before your fingers find your sticky clit. you whimper slightly from the sensation, you feel onyankopan’s breathing pattern change but only for a second before falling back to normal. you continue on, rubbing quick tight circles on your clit. you feel yourself gushing but you can’t quite get your fingers where they need to be. you mewl softly that sensation. a tightness in your throat tells you the waterworks are about to start. you pull your hand away trying to recuperate and definitely trying not to cry.
but ugh! why was this so hard? you’re beyond frustrated and so uncomfortable. you can’t even please yourself properly without feeling pathetic? the tears come before you could stop them and you accidentally let out a broken sob. this has ony snapping his eyes open frantically. he ripped his body away from yours to turn on the dim nightlight before he’s back on you in an instant.
“(❤︎︎), are you okay? what happened baby talk to me.” he panics sitting up and easily turning your body towards him supporting you and the baby. unfortunately this has you crying even harder. “ughhh im s—sorry!” you wail bring your hands to your face “i d—didn’t mean to wake yewwww! i’m just so! i’m so frustrated with myself!” another watery cry. this is so embarrassing you want to curl up in a ball and die.
“okay okay okay, calm down mama,” he soothes you softly. “it’s okay baby, take your time. i just need to know if you’re hurt or in pain, ok? nod yes, shake no.” he’s beyond relieved when you shake your head, letting out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. he waits for you to calm down rubbing your hips and legs which works but at the same time— it’s makes it worse.
you stop your crying after ten minutes. still breathing heavy he sits you up you so you aren’t laying flat on your back. he gets up to grabs tissue from the far side night stand cleaning you up gently. he sits on the edge of the bed so you can look at you. he grabs your left hand silently kissing your wrist up to your ring finger then holding your palm on his face.
“so,” he begins. “you gonna tell me what happened? i don’t like to see my wife upset, gets me real angry. i’d hate to have to fuck someone up bout my baby.” he teases.
clearing your throat you softly begin explaining what had happened. starting from your dirty dream, to trying to touch yourself, and telling him how quickly you became frustrated how pathetic you feel and so forth. he doesn’t talk, he doesn’t interrupt, he doesn’t laugh. he just listen and massages your hand waiting for you to finish.
“and uh yeah.. that’s all really. i’m real sorry for waking you onya, but im better now i promise.” you give him a weak smile.
he doesn’t like the sound of that. and now he talks. “none of that. it sounds to me like i’ve been neglecting my poor poor baby, huh?” he lean in to kiss your puffy lips, distracting you from the shuffling going on around you. he’s adjusted the pillows you gather once you break away from the kiss. “let daddy make it up to you. wish you would’ve woke a nigga up earlier, sweetness.” he move to place kisses on whatever skin he can get his lips on. your neck, the top of your tits, all the way down to the inside of your thighs. he mindfully has your pillows stacked in way why that you can lean back comfortably while still giving his tongue access to you aching core.
already dribbling cream he sticks his tongue right where you need him. he slurps and he sucks his mouthing at your entire cunt drinking you like he’s never had water before.
every slurp has you hazy eyed, and your poor cunny throbbing from stimulation. his head bobs slow literally fucking you with his tongue. you shake and whither away from his mouth pushing him off but also pulling him closer. he loves the sounds you make, how you scratch his scalp under the durug. he’s hard now, his tip pressing hard against the fabric of his pajama pants. you nearly scream if you didn’t slap a hand over your mouth when he takes those thick fingers and pushes them in roughly.
immediately he finds your g-spot give you the twist and suck of a lifetime. you want to see his face. you know his eyes roll back when he eats it nearly drunk off you. your babygirl is in the way, blocking you from your husband. it’s really pissin you off.
he pops your outer thighs bringing you back down to earth as a silent command to focus on cumming in his mouth. it doesn’t take long, he lays his tongue flats moving his head in a circle and bends his fingers just right to have you tensing up around his digits. you squeak when you cum, basically vibrating on the bed.
he won’t speak, he only listens to your ragged breath while he presses soft kitten licks to your most sensitive areas.
he decides that you’ve been leaning back for too long and it’s lowkey giving him anxiety. (he’ll have to eat it when you stand new time). he flips you over to the side, making sure you’re still nice and supported by the pillows. he’s tingling with sensitivity wanting nothing more than to find home inside of you.
he pulls his pants down to rest under where they won’t get in the way, tosses your one leg over his shoulder and rubs the head along your slit. he’s pissin you off too. all you want him to do if fuck you silly and he out here teasing. he see the pout forming on your face turning your head to kiss you while sliding himself in. “mmmh!” you moan into his mouth.
“shh, i know it feels good baby but you have to stay, —fuck you’re squeezing me— quiet.” he says hushed. as much as he wants to fold you up and fuck your lights out he knows that if any of the neighbors heard they’d be giving him specifically dirty looks.
“you only cummin’ if you’re quiet pretty, don’t make me have to stop.” his tone is stern but still light trying his best not to sound to mean. a slow drag had him pulling all the way out before shoving back in roughly. the sound gets caught in your throat it’s almost like you can’t breath. he drops your leg having your thighs pressed together while he fucks you from the side.
he’s starry eyed watching every ripple of your skin ricochet with every bruising snap of his hips on your ass. it’s embarrassing how when you are right now. sticky white strings connecting the two of you in a sloppy mess. “mmm- you real creamy on my shit, mama.” he tugs his plump lip between his teeth. “who got you creamin’ like that, huh? what’s my name?” he’s thrust never falter as he questions you to entrance by the way he’s stretching you out.
he leans down forehead resting on your temple the sudden change in angle has you reaching to grab his wrist sinking your nails into the skin. “you! yan —oh my god you— you’re makin’ me like thissuhh!” you’re whispering between your pants you can’t afford to have him stop he feels so so good.
the straps of your night gown slip down your shoulders exposing you slightly but he wants to see more. his hand grab at the dampened fabric to yank it down right under you chest. the way he has you twisted has them bouncing up and down up and down he’s almost hypnotized. dark full nipples hardened into stiff peaks has his mouth watering. little white dribbles squirt out with every push he can’t help but latch on to the skin. “MMMH!” you squirm at the sensation, it’s not like he’s never sucked them before but now it’s a whole different feeling. sensitive and tender as they can be his mouth has you clenching down unbearably hard.
“baby— daddy— wait! i gotta pee!” he only grins when you push him away pounding into your pussy making sure each thrust reaches deep. “let it out gorgeous, it’s not pee it’ll feel so fuckin good i promise. let me have that shit!” he groans against your tits. who are you to deny him? you’re eyes scroll back and your mouth drops open but no sound leaves your lips. clear streams gush and gush each time he reels his hips back. it creates a lewd PLAP PLAP PLAP every hit.
“ look at that, you squirtin’ on me. never done that before im fucking up you good.” he gloats at the mess he(you) made. you say nothing the ungodly sounds leaving your throat is enough of a reaction. it won’t stop either, continuous streams leave your poor cunny you cant help but bring an open palm pushing at his abdomen.
it’s too weak to stop anything he’s unrelenting in the way he fucks you. you’re withering. the way you were soaking him and the sheets had him leaning back down and grunting in your ear. “gon’nut all in this pretty ass pussy. if i ain’t knock you up already i’d give you another one swear to god—” he babbles on, spewing nasty nonsense as his stomach caves and he pushed in deep. hot sticky cum spurts out in thick ribbon, he rotates his hips into yours not wasting a drop.
hes hot above you basking in the aftershock of his orgasm and on the regular you’d be content with the feeling of his skin on yours, but you’re uncomfortably warm. tapping his bicep, he rolls over on his back keeping a hand on your stomach.
he cranes his neck to the side watching as your eyes flutter shut into a peaceful sleep.
i’m so ass at writing endings but this been in my drafts since have your babies dropped
