Maybe if I just got a glove…I could give her one last perineal massage. I would make sure to rub her clit nice and good like she likes. But she wouldn’t feel it, of course, and my cock would be absolutely weeping with nowhere to go. Wait, there’s always her ass! And if she doesn’t feel anything, I could go as hard as I wanted. She’s going to be sore anyway after pushing out a baby…I could—
“Alright, Mrs. Sinclair! Are you ready to start pushing? Dr. Bishop will be here any minute now, so we’re going to get you all set up.”
Blanche winks at me and nods her head toward the chair, motioning for me to sit back down. Which I do, adjusting myself in the process. There’s no need for rumors to spread about how Henry Sinclair gets hard watching his wife give birth.
“Oh, and look! You got Dad to calm down, too!”
Yeah, the thought of fucking my wife one last time before we’re on a six-week hiatus really did the trick. Damn, I wonder how long you have to wait to have anal. I need to remember to ask the doctor that, and how soon you can peg someone after giving birth. I guess worst-case scenario, I can just fuck her tits. They’ve gotten so big, and I hear they’re only going to get bigger. Her breast milk can help lube everything up for me. Then, when I’m done, I can lick the milk and my cum off together. Maybe keep it in my mouth and share it with her…
“Is everyone ready? Baby is in a good position. He’s almost crowning so this shouldn’t take long. Mr. Sinclair, would you mind holding her other leg back, we can help her push.”
“Alright, Dad, are you ready to cut the cord?”
I nod, but no words escape me as I watch the nurses clean the screaming baby and lay him on my wife. My son. Our son.The tangible embodiment of the combination of our souls. A gift I will never deserve.
I cut the umbilical cord,or at least I think I do,and stand over my wife and child. He stopped crying as soon as she spoke to him, and in that moment, I knew I had done at least one thing right for my children. I don’t know how to be a father, and as much as I’ll try to be good, I know I’ll fuck it up somehow. I’ll make a million mistakes along the way, but watching Blanche hold our firstborn son for the first time, I know choosing their mother will outweigh them all. The tears falling down her face show the unconditional love she already has for our Henry. I cradle his tiny head in my big hand, finally touching him for the first time, and feel a tear of my own run down my cheek.
“Do you want to hold him?”
Without hesitation, I take the tiny bundle into my arms and carefully sit on the edge of the bed.
“He’s got your eyes. You know that, darling?” Blanche says lightly.
I hadn’t gotten a good look before now, but she’s right. He does have my eyes. I hate to say it, but he looks just like me actually. Except for his head of thick dark hair. That’s straight from his mama.God,I’ve never been so proud of anything in my life. Blanche reaches up to touch him, and if I’ve had any shredof resolve, it’s gone the moment he wraps his tiny hand around her finger.
“Are you okay, Henry?” Blanche asks, as I sniffle.
“Which one?”
“You, silly. We’re going to have to figure out how to distinguish between the two of you, or things could get out of control.”
I wrap my free arm around her shoulders and kiss the top of her head. “I’m spectacular, love. In fact, give me fourteen more of them right now.”
Blanche snuggles into my chest. “Let’s start with this one and see where we go.”
Before I can respond, she’s sound asleep. Chuckling, I look down at Henry only to see he’s sleeping as well. I’ve had more money than God my entire life, yet I’ve felt nothing but emptiness.Damn, those cheesy romantics are right. It really is love the whole time.With one arm wrapped around my wife and my son cradled in the other, I now hold the most precious treasures in the world. This is my everything. My reason for existence.
Chapter thirty-six
“Henry? Henry, sweetheart, she’s okay! Look, see, she’s got her epidural, and she’s much more comfortable. I think she might want to see you, if you want to go say hi. Take her some ice chips, dear. I’ll be right here.”
My mother’s voice snaps me out of my trance, and I realize I’m hovering in the doorway of my wife’s hospital room like the coward I am. Katarina eyes me with amusement, and she looks sosmalland fragile lying there that the urge to panic and cry threatens to overwhelm me again, but her hand beckons me, and I’m powerless as always to resist her call.
Before I can make it to her, though, I manage to knock over a tray of supplies, and the clattering brings a nurse into the room. I feel like nothing more than a bull in a china shop, and nausea roils in my gut at the thought of being handed something as tiny and precious as a baby before long.
Finally, I make it to my wife, and the pity in her eyes is almost worse than her amusement.
“Sweetheart, I’m fine. Are you okay?”
“Uhh. Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Are you sure you’re fine? Maybe I can go get you—”
“Nope, I’m all set. Everything I could ever want or need is in one of these very expertly packed bags that we’ve had ready for weeks. What I need is to know if you’re okay, and what happened earlier.”
Earlier…fuck.
“Henry!”
The edge to my wife’s voice has me running to the kitchen, where she and my mother were baking cookies and talking about the plans for the twins’ and Gisele’s birthdays next month. When I arrive, Mom is in tears, but…smiling? And my Kitten looks happy but scared. She’s standing in a puddle, and I assume she’s dropped some of the milk she was cooking with.
