It’s hard sometimes. Life isn’t perfect; Flavia once threw up on my laptop as I was putting the final edits on a thirty-page paper. But I love my little family, and I’m happy with them, and that’s what matters.
Epilogue
Professor Sharpe
Another Year Later
When I finally sneak downstairs, Melody is sitting on the couch in front of the fire, a glass of wine in her hand, another on the coffee table for me.
“Our little insomniac finally asleep?” she asks, swirling the wine in her glass.
“I only had to tell her the story of Romulus and Remus three times,” I say, sitting next to her and taking my wine. “I skipped the part where one murders the other.”
“Now I’m afraid to have another one,” Melody teases. “Flavia might murder it if you tell her that story too many times.”
I grin, leaning in to kiss her.
“C’mon,” I say. “Remember how much I loved you being pregnant?”
Melody laughs softly.
“I remember barely being able to move by eight months,” she says.
I put my wine glass on the table and put one hand up my wife’s shirt, feeling the soft skin of her belly.
“I remember being barely able to control myself every time I saw you,” I growl. “Even worse than normal.”
I pull Melody onto my lap. I’m already hard, because we haven’t had sex in nearly forty-eight hours — with a toddler, it can be hard to be alone in the same room together sometimes. Melody grinds her hips against me, biting her lip and groaning quietly.
“I don’t think you can get me pregnant right now,” she murmurs into my ear. “But I’d love to give your cock a good hard ride anyway, Professor.”
I plunge my hands into her pants just to feel her warm, delicious wetness. She moans again, then climbs off me, removes her pants, and unbuckles mine.
Then she gets on her knees, takes my cock out, and slides her mouth down it, swallowing me without even blinking.
I groan.
“Watching you do that will never get old,” I growl, feeling her throat tight around me. “I could watch you swallow my cock on a loop for the rest of my life and die happy.”
Melody looks up at me with her big eyes, then bobs her head up and down once more. I put one hand on her head but she knows exactly what she’s doing by now, slurping along my length and sucking at the tip when I’m just about to come, then standing and straddling me again.
“I need you to sit on my big, fat cock right now,” I whisper.
Melody kisses me as she does just that, and I groan into her mouth as her perfect, still-tight pussy envelopes me all the way to the hilt.
“Professor, you feel so fucking good,” she whispers in my ear, moving her hips back and forth, grinding against me while I’m inside her. “I love the way you fill me up.”
“I love the way you talk dirty, you filthy girl,” I say.
Melody moans, then starts riding me. She’s slow at first, but after a few strokes she’s riding me hard, bouncing up and down along my length, her breasts bouncing under her shirt. I watch as her eyes go hazy with pleasure, grabbing her hips and pulling her onto me as hard as I can.
“Make me come, Professor,” she says, still bouncing furiously. “Please, make me come.”
I slam her onto my cock, muscles bulging, and Melody bites her lip, one hand on my shoulder.
“Oh, fuck,” she whispers, and then she explodes. Her pussy clenches around me rhythmically as she comes, and I force myself not to so I can watch, so I can feel how perfect it feels to be inside her right now.
“Come inside me,” she begs as she’s finishing, her forehead against mine. “Let me feel you come.”
I do. I can’t hear her ask me that and not come in thick ropy spurts, filling her over and over as she kisses me fiercely, her tongue in my mouth.
We stay like that when we’re finished, me inside her, kissing on the couch, and it feels oddly perfect. This is home. This woman is my entire life, along with our little girl, and I couldn’t be happier.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“I love you too,” she whispers back.
We kiss again, and mid-kiss, a tiny voice calls from upstairs.
“Madaagagabnda?” it says.
Melody and I look at each other.
“Your turn,” I say.
She sighs.
“Where are my pants?” she asks.
The End