I cannot be faulted for what you're about to read. Blame @zaynezone for encouraging me.
(I hope its okay that I tagged you? I read your blog rules and it didn't say anything about tagging so fingers crossed I'm not overstepping)
You're finally recovered after giving birth to yours and Zaynes first daughter, but a new body comes with new challenges. Challenges that Zayne is more than happy to go through with you.
(aka the one where you're fucking and he laps your breastmilk off of your body.)
I'm POSITIVE this has been done before. so credit to the first. <3
CW: postpartum discussions, swearing, breastmilk drinking, protected piv sex, car sex, fingering... that's all I can think of.
if you see any typos no you didn't, if this is ooc, no it isn't. <3
It had only been 8 weeks since yours and Zayne's baby girl, Aurelia, was born.
She had come out two weeks early, but a whopping 11 pounds. And naturally, you had needed three stitches. But after 8 LONG weeks of healing and taking care of your baby girl, Zayne had surprised you with a new dress and told you to be ready by 6.
Yvonne would be a good babysitter, and you knew this. But it still didn't quite settle your nerves about leaving your daughter for the first time. But Zayne promised it would be okay. And he was right; you two had needed time alone. Time that wasn't taken up by the baby. Time to be husband and wife again.
By 8 o'clock, you were in the backseat of his car, half undressed.
In retrospect, this was his fault. He should not have said, "Your stitches are fully healed now. You're okay to have penetrative sex again," on the way to the restaurant and not expected it to faze you. He said it like a fact. Like he knew personally that your body was fully healed enough for him to fuck you again.
"Is that right?" you had responded, not quite knowing what to say to that.
"Mh" was the only answer you got in return before he was pulling into the restaurant valet.
Your hands caress his face in between kisses. "Thank- mh- thank you for dinner. I missed that. I missed you."
You're mumbling against his lips. But he really doesn't care as he turns on the car overhead and grabs his phone.
"What're you doing?" The door creaks when he guides you to sit up against it. His hands caressing your thighs as he pulls your dress the rest of the way off of your legs.
"I'm checking that your stitches are fully healed. You're freshly postpartum. I'm not going to tear you further or cause you unnecessary pain." he's turning on his phone flashlight, and there's not a single part of your body that isn't touched by the blush that you're forced into.
This man watched you give birth; he's been inside of you countless times. Hiding your face in your hands was the only reasonable thing to do here!
"I don't know why you're embarrassed. I was there when we had her, you know? I put her there." he spreads your folds with two of his fingers, checking your perineum. "Relax. You're clenching too tightly for me to see inside of you."
The smirk on his face needed to be wiped off, you decide. And before you can really think about what you're saying, "Yeah, I almost forgot about the whole thirty seconds that you contributed to the creation of our daughter, my bad," falls out of your mouth.
The look he gives you is immediate and warning. "Want to repeat that?" You're shaking your head immediately.
Seemingly satisfied with his findings, he tosses his phone into the front seat. The soft thud of the metal on the leather seems to vibrate through the car's interior as he moves forward, hiking your legs over his hips as he leans in and kisses you. The gentility suddenly gone from him as his hands roam your naked body in the backseat of his car.
He pulls away when he feels you wince, his hands immediately leaving your breasts.
"No, nothing, keep going," you say, as if your husband can't see through your pain.
"Sore?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "We don't have to do this if you're not-"
"no! no... Zayne. I want you. I'm ready. I just... Aurelia left earlier, and without her crying, I didn't really think to pump. I'm just... full, is all. Just a little sore. I'll be fine. Just please," you reach forward, grabbing his wrist and leading it to your pulsing heat, " I want you".
He presses one finger into you, and you both let out breathy sighs. Even just his finger is enough to have you gasping after nearly 8 weeks of no sex at all.
He watches your face for a sign of any ambivalence, and he softly hooks his finger upwards.
You close your eyes, the feeling of the cool air mixed with the warmth inside of you pushing you too close too fast, and you know he's not going to let you orgasm more than once tonight.
His mouth descends on your collarbone while his finger slowly rocks within you. It's nice; this is nice. This feels like you're just husband and wife again. No worries at home.
"I really wish you would have let me get you home for this," he says into the hollow of your throat. "I never want to make you feel like urgency is more important than your comfort."
"Zayne?"
"Mhm?"
"I know. And you're very considerate. But it has been two months, and I'm aching for you. Can you please just hurry this along so that I can cum around your cock? Please?" You're threading your hands through his hair, and he leans into your palms softly.
"You know we can't rush foreplay, my love. It's important that you're properly prepared. I won't risk hurting you." God, this man was too sweet.
"Yeah... okay." You settle on, leaning further against the interior car door.
He smiles, and a warmth envelops you as he slowly adds a second finger. Fuck maybe he was right; two fingers were a lot. The pain/pleasure sensation prickles at the base of your spine. Zayne's mouth descends on your chest once more, first your collarbone, then your sternum, and eventually your nipples.
You feel your let down reflex engage, and you try to pull him off by the hair, but it's too late. "Zayne. Zayne, wait, you can't- my boobs, they're not- oh-h my god." You're pushing him further into your chest when his fingers crook and find your gspot like it's a magnet. Pressing hard and massaging expertly.
He sucks, and your world spins. The heaviness and ache drain away as the sweet liquid slides down his throat.
He detaches, taking a moment to breathe before softly massaging your breast. he marvels at the sight of your breastmilk sliding down your body.
"Fucking sinful," he says before he's lapping it off of your navel and trailing his tongue along the path that it took down your body.
He kisses your sternum softly before asking, "Are you feeling less full now?" as you're rocking your hips against his palm. You hear more than feel, his one hand unbuttoning his pants and attempting to free his cock.
He swears at the difficulty of doing this one handed and the sounds bubble a giggle from your throat. The giggle is very abruptly gone as he pulls his fingers from you.
Before you can catch your breath, you hear him tear a condom wrapper open, followed by the slick sound of him sliding it on.
He lines up, asking if you're ready before he's sheathing himself fully with one push.
The stretch is wholly divine. But what's nearly better is the way his mouth descends on your other nipple while he waits for you to adjust.
The milk coats his tongue, latch just deep enough to not hurt. Like he knows what he's doing. Of course he does. He's watched your daughter do it countless times. He was there when the lactation consultant taught you how to deepen the latch. Of course he knows.
Your train of thought is bombed by a missile when he begins to move inside of you while continuing to suck on your nipple. The feeling has your head being thrown back against the window, your hands scrambling for purchase anywhere they can. One finds the window behind you, already fogged up from the heat inside the car. The other finds his shoulder, digging crescents into the skin.
His lips suck and suck until you're whimpering, and when he's done, and his lips detach from your nipple, he looks nearly fucked out just from the taste alone.
His hips stutter in their rhythm, and he leans forward to kiss you. Your legs rest high on his hips, the feeling of him so deep it's making your head swim.
What you would do without this man you didn't know. His tip massages your g-spot in ways that should be illegal.
Putting the fact that he's a caring, competent, lovely husband, and a divine father, aside..., fuck was he good at what he does here.
His cock pulses within your walls, and the slow rhythm he's been taking this entire time is starting to turn in your favor as he loses his shit within you. With two more thrusts pushed directly into your g-spot, you're cumming around him, and he's following immediately.
The feeling of the condom filling up has you wishing he was emptying himself inside of you with no barriers; the one thing you did not miss about pre-conception sex was the condoms.
"Is it ethical to get addicted to creampies?" you ask him when he collapses against your chest.
"I- huh?" God, he was so cute when he was fucked stupid.
"Is it ethical to get addicted to creampies?" You repeat, stroking his hair softly. "I just mean... I don't know, I like the feeling of you finishing inside of me. ...is that gross?"
He laughs against your sternum softly, "No, darling. That's not gross. You're human. But safe sex is important, and I hate that you're making me give this lecture five seconds post orgasm"
“I love you,” you whisper against his hair, still slightly breathless, still slightly giggling. "Thank you for this night."
He responds with a kiss. In an hour, you'll have to return to your parental duties. But right now? Right now it was just the two of you. And, really, what more could you ask for?
and my tags list consists of @calebsfavoriteusedthong and @honeybee-berks. tba?
