Tuesday evening arrived with the kind of golden light that made everything feel possible.
I walked to Valerie's house as the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the manicured lawns of Willow Creek. The anticipation humming through my body was different than it had been with Meredith—less nervous, somehow. More curious.
Valerie's home was smaller than Meredith's colonial but somehow warmer. A craftsman bungalow with wide eaves and a garden that looked like it had been cultivated by someone who actually loved plants, not just hired landscapers to maintain them.
She met me at the door barefoot, wearing yoga pants and a loose cotton top that did nothing to hide the body beneath. Her dark hair was wild around her shoulders, and her smile was radiant.
"You came."
"Did you think I wouldn't?"
"No." She took my hand, her touch warm and immediate, and pulled me inside. "I knew you would. I could feel it."
I'd learned not to question Valerie's feelings. Her intuition was eerily accurate.
The inside of her house smelled like sandalwood and something floral—jasmine, maybe. It was warm, inviting, filled with soft textiles and natural light. Nothing like the museum quality of Meredith's home. This was a place that was actually lived in.
She led me through the living room to the back of the house, where a sliding glass door opened onto her studio. I'd been here before, of course—that first morning when she'd invited me to watch her yoga. But stepping into the space now felt different. Charged with new meaning.
"I wanted to actually teach you something first," she said, gesturing to a mat she'd laid out beside her own. "Real yoga. It helps with connection."
"Connection."
"Between body and mind. Between you and me." Her warm brown eyes held mine. "Is that okay?"
It was more than okay.
We started with breathing exercises. Simple stuff, but Valerie's voice was hypnotic, guiding me into a state of relaxation I rarely achieved. She sat facing me, our knees almost touching, and watched my chest rise and fall with each breath.
"You carry tension in your shoulders," she observed. "Here, let me."
She moved behind me, her hands finding the knots in my muscles with unerring accuracy. Her thumbs dug into the tight spots, and I groaned as the tension released.
"That's it," she murmured. "Let it go. Let all of it go."
Her hands moved down my spine, along my sides, around to my chest. The touch was still therapeutic, but there was something else in it now. Something electric.
She leaned forward, and I felt her breasts press against my back. Heavy, soft, impossible to ignore. Her lips brushed my ear when she spoke.
"I've been thinking about this moment for weeks."
"Just weeks?"
"Fine. Years." She laughed softly, her breath warm on my neck. "I've been thinking about having another child for years. And then Meredith told me about the arrangement, and I thought—finally. Finally I could stop dreaming and start doing."
I turned to face her. She was so close, those warm brown eyes mere inches from mine.
"And now?"
"Now you're here." She touched my face, her fingers trailing along my jaw. "And you're even better than I imagined."
I kissed her.
The kiss was different from Meredith's—slower, more languid, like she wanted to savor every moment rather than devour me. Her lips were soft, her tongue gentle when it met mine. She tasted like mint tea and honey.
Her hands found the hem of my shirt and pulled upward. I helped her, and then her palms were on my bare chest, exploring, appreciating.
"Beautiful," she murmured against my mouth. "You're so beautiful, Marcus."
"I think that's my line."
"We can share it."
I reached for her top, but she stopped me.
"Let me." She sat back slightly, creating space between us, and then slowly—deliberately—lifted the cotton over her head.
She wasn't wearing a bra.
Her breasts were... god. I'd thought I was prepared, after days of watching them strain against yoga tops and sundresses. I wasn't prepared.
They were massive. Round and full and natural, hanging heavy on her chest without a hint of sag. Her nipples were dark brown, large, already hard in the cool air of the studio. They moved when she breathed, swayed slightly when she shifted, absolutely hypnotic.
"You're staring," she said, but she was smiling.
"Give me a minute. I need to take this in."
She laughed, delighted, and leaned back on her hands. The posture pushed her chest out even further, those magnificent breasts jutting toward me like an offering.
"Take all the time you need."
I didn't take much time.
I closed the distance between us and cupped her breasts in both hands, finally feeling the weight of them, the warmth, the incredible softness. She moaned at the contact, her head falling back.
"They're so sensitive," she breathed. "They always have been. When I was nursing Tyler, I could almost—" She gasped as I circled one nipple with my thumb. "Almost come just from that."
"Just from this?"
I replaced my thumb with my mouth, taking her nipple between my lips and sucking gently. She cried out, her hands clutching my hair, her hips bucking forward involuntarily.
"Oh god," she whimpered. "Oh god, Marcus, that's—"
I switched to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. Her whole body was trembling now, and when I reached down to touch her through her yoga pants, I found her absolutely soaked.
"Please," she gasped. "I need—please—"
"Tell me what you need."
"You. Inside me. Please, Marcus, I've been waiting so long—"
I helped her out of her yoga pants, and then she was naked before me. Her body was everything I'd imagined and more. Wide hips, thick thighs, a soft belly that spoke of fertility rather than gym obsession. A woman's body. A mother's body.
She lay back on the yoga mat, spreading her legs for me, and I looked at her pussy. It was pink and glistening, lips slightly parted, wetness visible even in the low light. The scent of her arousal mixed with the sandalwood incense, and I felt drunk on it.
"You're so beautiful," I told her. "Every inch of you."
"Come here." She reached for me, pulling at my jeans. "I want to feel you."
I stripped quickly—no time for teasing, not with the way she was looking at me—and positioned myself between her thighs. My cock was already hard, aching for her.
She took me in her hand, and her touch was reverent, almost worshipful.
"Perfect," she breathed. "You're perfect."
"Valerie—"
"I know." She guided me to her entrance, rubbing the head of my cock through her wetness. "I know. But let me savor this moment. I've been dreaming about it for so long."
I let her have her moment. Let her rub me against her slit, coating me in her arousal, teasing both of us until we were both trembling with need.
Then she positioned me at her opening and looked into my eyes.
"Give me a baby, Marcus."
I pushed inside her.
She was different from Meredith—softer, more yielding, her body accepting me with an ease that felt like coming home. Her pussy was hot and wet and tight enough to make my eyes roll back, and she moaned as I filled her, a long continuous sound of pure satisfaction.
"Yes," she breathed when I was fully seated. "Oh god, yes. You feel incredible."
I didn't move at first. Just stayed buried in her, feeling her pulse around me, watching her face in the golden light. Her eyes were half-closed, her lips parted, her expression one of complete bliss.
"I can feel you so deep," she whispered. "It's like you're touching my soul."
I started to move.
Slow at first. Long, languid strokes that let us both feel every inch, every ridge, every millimeter of connection. She moved with me, her hips rising to meet mine, her hands gripping my ass to pull me deeper.
"More," she urged. "I need more of you."
I gave her more.
The pace increased, our bodies slapping together, the wet sounds of our joining filling the studio. Her breasts bounced with every thrust—those magnificent, heavy breasts—and I couldn't stop watching them.
"You love my tits," she gasped, a hint of amusement breaking through the pleasure.
"I'm obsessed with your tits."
"Then touch them. Use them. They're yours."
I cupped them as I fucked her, squeezing and kneading and rolling her nipples between my fingers. She keened beneath me, and I felt her pussy clench hard around my cock.
"I'm going to come," she warned. "Marcus, I'm—"
"Come for me. Let me feel you."
She exploded.
Her back arched off the mat, her whole body convulsing, and she screamed—actually screamed—as the orgasm ripped through her. Her pussy clamped down on me in rhythmic pulses, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from following her over.
When she finally came down, there were tears streaming from the corners of her eyes.
"That was..." She shook her head, speechless.
"We're not done."
"We're not?"
I pulled out of her—she whimpered at the loss—and flipped her onto her stomach. Her ass rose instinctively, presenting itself to me, round and full and irresistible.
"Oh god," she breathed as I slid back inside her from behind. "Oh god, this angle is—"
"I know."
I set a harder pace now. My hands gripped her wide hips, using them for leverage as I drove into her again and again. The view was incredible: my cock disappearing into her wet pussy, her ass jiggling with every impact, her dark hair splayed across the mat beneath her.
"Yes," she moaned into the cushions. "Yes, Marcus, just like that. Take me. Use me. Breed me—"
The word hit me like lightning.
"Say that again."
"Breed me." She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes wild and dark. "I want you to breed me, Marcus. I want to carry your baby. I've wanted it for so long—please, please give it to me—"
I fucked her harder.
"Tell me you want it," I growled. "Tell me exactly what you want."
"I want your cum," she gasped. "Deep inside me. I want you to fill me up and put a baby in my belly. I want to grow big and round with your child. I want to be a mother again—your child's mother—please, Marcus, please—"
I felt the pressure building. That familiar tightening in my balls, the heat spreading through my core. Close. So fucking close.
"I'm going to come."
"Inside me." She pushed back against me, taking me even deeper, her ass pressing against my pelvis. "All of it inside me. Every drop. Fill my pussy with your cum and make me yours."
I came with a roar that echoed off the studio walls.
It was the most intense orgasm of my life. I buried myself as deep as I could go and let go, my cock pulsing inside her, spurt after spurt of hot cum flooding her waiting pussy. I could feel myself filling her, feel my release coating her walls, pooling deep inside her where it belonged. She moaned beneath me as she felt me pumping into her, her own orgasm triggered by the sensation.
"Yes," she gasped. "Yes, I can feel it—you're filling me up—so much cum—give me all of it—"
I kept coming, kept pumping, my balls emptying inside her in pulsing waves. Her pussy clenched around me, milking my cock, pulling every last drop from me until I had nothing left to give.
We collapsed together onto the mat, still connected, both of us gasping for air. I could feel my cum pooled deep inside her, could feel some of it already starting to leak out around my softening cock.
"Oh my god," she breathed eventually. "Oh my god, Marcus."
"Yeah."
"That was..." She laughed, weak and happy. "I don't have words. That was everything I imagined and more."
I pulled out of her gently, and we both watched as thick streams of my cum began to pour from her swollen pussy—white and glistening, dripping down her thighs onto the yoga mat. She reached down immediately, pressing her fingers to her opening, pushing it back inside.
"Don't waste any," she murmured. "I want every drop exactly where it belongs. Deep inside me. Making our baby."
We lay there in the fading light, her body curled against mine, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest. The studio was warm and quiet, filled with the scent of sex and sandalwood.
"I knew it would be like this," she said softly. "The moment I saw you, I knew."
"Your intuition again?"
"Call it what you want. I just... knew." She propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at me with those warm brown eyes. "You're exactly what we needed. What I needed."
I reached up and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear.
"Tell me about Tyler," I said. "Your son."
She smiled, maternal warmth flooding her features.
"He's wonderful. Nineteen, studying marine biology. He wants to save the oceans." A small laugh. "He's idealistic in that way only the young can be. I love him more than anything in the world."
"Will he know? About this arrangement?"
"Eventually. When the time is right." She considered the question seriously. "He'll be surprised at first. But Tyler's a good kid. He wants me to be happy. And I haven't been truly happy in a very long time."
"What changed?"
"I stopped waiting for happiness to find me and started going after it myself." She kissed me softly. "And then you moved in next door."
We made love again as the last light faded from the sky. Slower this time, facing each other, our bodies moving together in an ancient rhythm. She came with tears in her eyes, and I kissed them away.
Afterward, she asked me to stay.
"Please," she said, her voice small. "I don't want to be alone tonight. Not after this."
"I'm not going anywhere."
We moved to her bedroom—smaller and cozier than Meredith's, with a bed covered in soft blankets and pillows. She fell asleep in my arms, her breathing slow and even, her body warm against mine.
I lay awake for a while, staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything that had happened.
Two women now. Two incredible women who wanted me, who had chosen me, who had welcomed me into their lives and their bodies.
And one more waiting.
Valerie stirred in her sleep, pressing closer, her hand finding mine even in dreams.
"The others got to have you first," she murmured, barely conscious. "But I'm going to be the one who gets pregnant first. I just know it."
I held her tighter and let myself drift off.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new complications. But tonight, in this warm bed with this beautiful woman, everything felt exactly right.