When I Kissed The Teacher- Chapter Two
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Tags: @sunset-shimmer-girl06 @flamesofauburn @babytakeittothehead @nrmmmnleemhs @madxmeschemmenti @luchmmenti96
I yawn as I climb into bed, snuggling up to Melissa. She wraps her arm around me and removes her glasses. “Hey, honey. Did you get Franny to sleep?”
“Yeah,” I smile. “She needed to play with my hair for a while, and then I rubbed her back, but she’s out for the count now.”
“Good,” Mel says, pressing her hand to my belly. “Now let me take care of you.”
“You don’t have to,” I say, but Melissa is already kissing down my belly and pulling my shorts down my legs.
“Want to,” Mel mumbles, sucking a sensitive spot inside my thighs. I moan, throwing my head back as she spreads me open and her tongue slides through my folds. “You taste so good,” she says.
“Oh, baby,” I moan. “Fuck you’re good at that.” I slide my hand up my pyjama top and tug at my nipple gently, back arching as Melissa works her magical tongue. She slides a finger into me as she licks my clit, and I groan, shuddering as she coaxes an orgasm out of me.
“Right there,” I gasp. “Oh, fuck.”
“Good girl,” Mel says, lazily licking up the evidence of my climax. “I love how you taste when you’re pregnant. You’re so sweet.”
“C’mere,” I grin, pulling her up for a kiss. I moan into her mouth when I taste myself on her tongue, and we roll over. My hands slide down her body, tugging her pyjama top up over her head, and she grabs mine, removing it from my body, too. I tug her shorts down and toss them across the room, dragging my tongue down her neck.
“Love you,” I say, tugging one of her nipples into my mouth.
“Mm, love you too,” she moans happily, scraping her nails through my scalp. I repeat the action with her other nipple and then kiss down her belly. Her whole body flecks with goosebumps as I push her legs apart and lick a stripe through her folds and up to her clit. “Fuck, baby,” she gasps.
I hold her open and flick her clit repeatedly, moaning at the taste. I love eating her out. I could lie between her legs all night. Her breathing quickens as I alternate between licking and sucking, and I know she’s close.
“Mommy?” A familiar voice says from the doorway, and I quickly move, reaching for the duvet.
“Fran? Fuck,” I mumble, heart racing as we scramble to cover ourselves.
“Oh, sorry,” she says, her lip wobbling. Our kids know about sex. We’ve been open about it because it’s healthy, and because apparently none of our kids knows how to knock. I look at Melissa, who is breathless and red, and I bite my lip.
“What’s wrong, honey?” I ask.
“I can’t sleep,” she cries.
“Okay, let me get, um, some pyjamas, and you can come here.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Mel sighs, grabbing her t-shirt and pulling it on as I climb out of bed to find something to wear. Fran looks at the floor shyly.
“Okay, come here,” I say once we’re dressed. I open my arms, and she climbs into the bed, snuggling between us. I stroke Mel’s arm apologetically, and she shrugs. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, and it won’t be the last. We have three kids, soon to be four, and we’re lucky we get any alone time.
“Okay, tell mommy what’s wrong,” Mel says, wrapping her arms around Francesca. Fran snuggles into Melissa’s chest and cries, clinging to her t-shirt.
“My brain won’t stop,” she says. “I don’t know why.”
“What are you thinking about?” I ask. “Anything specific?” I watch as she tangles her fingers in Mel’s hair and twiddles it. Mel rubs her back, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead as she holds her. I love watching Mel with the kids; she’s an amazing mother.
Fran shrugs. “Don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” Mel says. “We’ve got you, close your eyes.”
“I’m sorry I interrupted sex,” she says, and I laugh.
“Maybe you should knock next time,” I tell her. “You know, like we tell you to every time.”
“I forgot,” she says. “I’ll try next time.”
“As long as you’re not traumatised, it’s okay,” Mel says. Looking over Fran at me. I take her hand and squeeze it.
“Love you,” I whisper, and she smiles.
Fran’s breathing evens out, and Mel kisses her head again. “Go to sleep,” she tells me. “It’s been a long day.”
“You comfy?” I ask, and she nods, closing her eyes. “Sleep well, my angels,” I say, snuggling against them and closing my own eyes, succumbing to the peaceful slumber.
I am so thankful that the weekend has finally rolled around. Rory has invited some of her girlfriends over, and they are making the most of the last of the warm days. I look out of the window while I wash dishes, and I smile at the sight of the girls on the trampoline, jumping and laughing without a care in the world.
“They’re havin’ a blast,” Mel says, walking up behind me. She presses her body to mine, and I smile. I love it when she sneaks up behind me like this, her hands all over me.
“Hey,” I say, leaning back against her as her hands slide over my belly. “That feels nice.”
“It’s warm out there,” she says. “Wanna come sit in the hammock with me?”
“That sounds nice,” I say. “What are Fran and Luca doing?”
“Playin’ with Biskit in the yard.”
“Oh, everyone’s outside?” I grin. “That’s good.”
“Yeah, I’m so glad we didn’t raise iPad kids,” Mel laughs, kissing my shoulder. “Come on, grab a book, we’re gonna relax.”
“Ooh, don’t threaten me with a good time, Mrs Schemmenti,” I giggle, drying my hands and wandering over to the couch to grab my book. I follow Melissa outside, waving at the girls as they bounce around, giggling. Fran giggles as Biskit chases her around the flower bed, and Mel chuckles, watching.
“Hey! Careful!” She calls to Luca as she notices him climbing a tree.
“We really need to get someone to build that treehouse before someone gets hurt,” I say, watching Melissa climb into the hammock. If we hadn’t done this a million times, I wouldn’t trust this flimsy bit of fabric to hold our weight, but we love snuggling out there in the summer. Especially in the evenings.
I climb up and settle between her legs, snuggling into her. She strokes my hair while I open my book, and I hear her sigh.
“You okay?” I ask, and she nods.
“Yeah, I just love days like this. I wish every day were the weekend. I’m not ready for it to get cold again.”
“Me either,” I say, lying against her chest as I watch the kids. “But, at least we can light the fire when it’s cold and have smores with the kids.”
“That does sound fun,” Mel confirms, kissing my head. “Hey, maybe tonight we can finish what we started last night.”
“Yeah?” I grin, closing my book and snuggling closer to her chest. “You feeling desperate, huh?” I whisper. “Poor baby.” I kiss the tiny bit of skin exposed next to her breast, and she sighs.
“What are we having for dinner?”
“I was thinkin’ about making meatballs,” she says, rubbing my back.
“Mm, the girls are staying for dinner, you know that, right?”
“Yeah,” Mel says. “I spoke to their moms when they got here. They’re getting picked up around seven.”
“Okay,” I yawn. “I might nap here.”
“Do it, sweetheart,” she says. “You were up early. I can watch the kids.”
“Love you,” I whisper tiredly.
“Love you too,” she says, stroking my hair as I fall asleep.
“Mommy,” Fran shouts as she runs over.
“Shhh,” Mel says. “Mama’s asleep.”
“Sorry,” she giggles, whispering. “Biskit rolled in poop.”
“Ugh, he what?” Mel exclaims. “Don’t let him into the house, please. God, I’m gonna have to wake Mama.”
“No, you won’t,” a familiar voice says.
“Nana!” Fran exclaims, her face lighting up when my mother walks through the gate.
“Hi, sweet girl! Hi Melissa,” she smiles. “Let me wash that stinky boy for you.”
“Thank you,” Mel sighs. “Bec hasn’t been sleepin’ great.”
It took a few years, and I still have trauma; it doesn’t just go away, but my parents have been far better grandparents than they were parents. And they’ve been so helpful and involved in the kids' lives.
“Where’s Geoff?” Mel asks.
“Getting Luca down from a tree,” she laughs. “We should organise getting that treehouse built.”
“That’s what Bec said earlier,” Mel agrees.
“Hey, Nana,” Rory says, walking over. “Are you staying for dinner?”
“If that’s okay with your mom,” she says.
“Fine by me,” Mel smiles. “I think I can make enough.”
“Oh, Chelsea and Taylor are going home early,” Rory says. “So they don’t need dinner.”
“Is everything okay?” Mel asks, and Rory shrugs.
“I don’t wanna talk about it,” she says. “Nana, I’ll help you wash Biskit.”
“Okay, sweetheart,” she says, picking up the dog. Fran flaps her arms as the puppy wriggles and cries.
“He’s okay,” Mel says. “C’mere.”
“I don’t want to get up there,” Fran says. “It will break.”
“It won’t break,” Mel insists.
“Uh uh,” she says, backing away.
I groan in my sleep, eyes opening when my hip starts to hurt.
“You okay?” Mel asks, and I nod.
“Mm, yeah. Where is everyone? Hey sweetie,” I smile when I see Fran. “Come here.”
“She thinks the hammock is gonna break,” Mel says. “She won’t come up.”
“Oh,” I groan again. “I need to get up anyway,” I say, struggling to sit up.
“Need a hand?” My dad asks, and I smile.
“Hey, Dad, what are you doing here?” I ask, taking his hand as he pulls me out of the hammock.
“We came for dinner,” he says. “I just rescued this one out of a tree,” he says, his arm around Luca.
“Your mom's washin’ the dog,” Mel says. “He rolled in crap.”
“Where’s Rory?” I ask, rubbing my hip.
“Uh, something happened, the girls went home,” Mel says. “Rory’s with your mom.”
“You okay, sweetheart?” My dad asks, and I nod.
“Yeah, I just shouldn’t have slept on my side like that,” I sigh. “Let’s go inside. It’s getting cold.”
Dad puts his arm around me as we walk inside, and Fran brushes past, running in first. “Is Biskit okay?” She asks when he yelps.
“Yes! He just hates the bath, apparently,” Rory says. “He’s stinky.”
“Why did he roll in poop?” She asks curiously.
“Because he’s a boy and boys are gross,” Rory says, putting her arm around her baby sister. I smile, watching them.
“Ror, why did the girls leave early?” I ask curiously, leaning against the counter as Mel comes over and starts to rub my hip for me.
“Doesn’t matter,” she says.
“Pass me that towel,” Mom says to Rory, who releases Fran and grabs the towel. They wrap him in it, and Fran squeals when he shakes and soaks us all.
“Ewww!” I laugh, backing away from the wet dog. “Gross Biskit.”
“Whose idea was it to get a dog?” Mel laughs, grabbing the mop. “Thank you for washing him, Cheryl. Luca, help me clean up this mess.”
“Yes, Mommy,” he says, taking the mop from her.
“Go sit down,” Mel tells me. “Don’t want you slipping.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, heading to the couch.
“I want to paint,” Fran announces. “Mama, can we paint?”
“Sure, honey,” I say. “Go get the stuff, we can paint at the table.”
“Yay!” She claps, and she and Luca run off to get the box of paints.
“I guess I’m finishing mopping,” Mel says, grabbing the abandoned mop. Biskit gets post-wash zoomies and runs around the house like a crazy dog, jumping from couch to couch, and I laugh. Rory wanders over and slumps down next to me.
“What’s wrong, baby girl?” I ask, putting my arm around her.
She shrugs, snuggling against me. “I’m going to paint with Fran. Do you want me to paint something for you?”
“I’d love that,” I grin. “Something for my classroom, maybe?”
“Okay,” she smiles as Fran and Luca carry the paint box into the room. “Let me take it to the table,” Rory says, getting up and helping them. Mel wanders over to the couch and sits down next to me.
“Something's going on with Rory,” I whisper. “I think something happened with her friends.”
“I think so too,” Mel says. “We’ll talk to her about it after dinner. How’s your hip?”
“Better,” I say. “Need help with dinner?”
“Nope. Your dad said he’s ordering us pizza,” she grins.
“Aw, thanks, Dad!” I grin, snuggling up to Mel.
“Of course,” he says. “I’ve been pestering your mother for pizza all week,” he winks.
“He’s supposed to be on a low cholesterol diet,” Mom says, rubbing his chest. “But we can have pizza tonight.”
“Yay!” Luca says. “I’m gonna paint Biskit!”
“On paper, I hope you mean,” I say. “Don’t paint the dog.”
“Duh, that’s what I meant,” Luca says.
“I’m painting a butterfly,” Fran says.
“What are you painting, hon?” Mel asks Rory.
“Still trying to decide,” she says, biting her lip.
Mel and I exchange a look, and I sigh, leaning my head against my wife’s shoulder. “It’s always something with these kids,” I mumble, rubbing my belly.
“So,” Mom says, “we were thinking we could have the kids tonight? Give you a night off.”
“Really,” she grins. “You two deserve a night off. What are grandparents for, hm?”
“Can we bring Biskit?” Fran asks hopefully, and Mom nods.
“Of course we can, sweetheart! We bought him a bed and bowls for our house,” Dad says. “He’s our grandson, too.”
“You hear that?” I whisper to Mel. “Just the two of us tonight.”
“I can’t wait,” Melissa smirks, stroking my arm.
