Sam was still under the covers when she woke me up. "What should we do today? Decorate? Paint? Unpack?"
We'd made love the first morning in our new house. On the second morning, she was down to business. I thought for a second. "Unpack now, decorate tonight. I'm more concerned with how the tree looks at night than during the daytime. Besides, I wanted to put it up last night, but you wanted to get off your feet."
"When do you want to paint, then?"
"It's not as urgent. Next time I'm out, I'll get the paint. Then we'll have it ready on a day when we don't want to go out."
"Robin's egg blue," she reminded me.
I smiled. "I know, Sweetie." Sam got up and went to the bathroom. I put my head back on my pillow for a few minutes, then got up to make coffee.
I logged onto the internet and checked the news and social media. By the time I'd finished checking Twitter, Sam held a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs out for me. "Eat up, Wolf. I want to get the basement done today."
"And that means I'm up for some lifting. I get it."
All of our furniture was in the living room except for the bed, which we set up the first night. Sam took the sheets and carpets off the things that were going to the basement. One of the carpets was itself headed there, although we had plans to carpet it later on. I moved them down as she went along. After I had the couch in place and the flat-screen TV hung, Sam came down and approved. The small refrigerator was more cumbersome to move, but Sam was able to help me load it onto the dolly. By two o'clock, everything in the basement that we would have shown a visitor was in place. The timing was perfect, as she'd just finished making sweet and sour pork. We'd run out of the sauce just before moving out of our apartment, but I had just enough packets in the glove compartment of my car for the two of us.
After lunch, I told Sam, "I know I said to decorate tonight, but it'll get dark soon enough. Let's get started on it."
She dug out one of the folding chairs and put it at the edge of the lawn. "I'll come out and let you know if it looks right," she told me. She stayed inside and opened the artificial Christmas tree. (We'd decided to get real trees in the future, but it seemed impractical this year.) An hour later, she came out to inspect my work. I'd hung a set of lights from the corner of the roof, over the door, to the bedroom window. She was wearing a denim shirt and jeans. I insisted that she put a sweatshirt on before she stayed out for any length of time. "That's why you get to call me Sam," she said. She came back out and gave her approval. I went inside to put the decorations on the windows while she organized the tinsel, the ornaments and the fake snow. She came out again, looked at it and said, "Good job, Wolf. Now we can do the tree." When we went back inside, she added, "But first, the mistletoe." She'd seen it in a box that I took downstairs by mistake, but I saw another package in the corner.
I stripped from the waist down and held the mistletoe over my crotch, waiting to see her reaction. I also wondered why it was taking so long. I heard her saying, "Mistletoe's ready, get ready to kiss me!" When she turned the corner, I saw that she'd done the same thing I did.
I knelt in front of her and leaned in to kiss her pussy. The main couch was still covered in drop cloths, so I helped her walk downstairs. She started to lie on that couch, but I asked, "Is that how you want it? I'd love to eat you from below, 'cause I know you like that."
"That's why you're the only one who gets to call me Sam," she said.
She got on all fours on the floor. I lay on my back, and we moved closer until her pussy was over my face. I looked straight up to her pussy and then off toward her stomach. Sam was big and beautiful when I met her, and now she was bigger and even more beautiful. "I love you, Sam," I told her. "More than ever."
"I love you, too, Wolf. Don't stop now!" A little bit of her belly showed through her shirt. I rubbed it briefly and then kissed her clit. I separated her pussy lips with my fingers and licked a line up and down through the cleft. She put her hands on the back of my head, a little higher than where she used to put them, because she had to reach around now.
No matter, I started by finger-fucking her and then moved in with my tongue. Seeing Sam close her legs in around my neck used to be a turn-on. Now that she was six-plus months pregnant, watching her legs flail around while I ate her wasn't quite as erotic, but it was so adorable that I was overcome. "I mean it. I would do anything for you," I told her.
"Good, 'cause I'm planning on having three or four."
"You're so beautiful now compared to six months ago, if you're that much more beautiful with each new baby, I'll want a dozen."
Sam cried. "You really mean that, don't you?"
In between licks of her pussy, I managed to say, "Absolutely," in a way that she could sort of understand.
