Temporary Secretary

Part 36

3 May 1981

3:30pm Sunday

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Ever since being able to fuck Paul again, it was difficult getting out of bed the remainder of the weekend.

You didn't need to talk about it. It was what it was, and it was wonderful.

Though Paul might've not had the endurance he might've in his lustful youth, to go again and again, he was surely pent up, and didn't have much trouble, if anything had restlessness, when it came to it.

It was the honeymoon period, and you were bound to enjoy it.

It was just a workplace affair before. Fun, lustful, for sure. It was a blast, and you did enjoy your time with Paul before also.

However, the more recent sex seemed to have a different edge. Perhaps on Paul's end.

You weren't just fucking at the end of the workday, out of convenience, even if it was something you both wanted to do. There was something lighter and casual about something like that, always in the office (except for later in the affair, you supposed, when you came back to his. You'd never fucked at your place though, the whole duration).

No, this time, you were having sex in his (both of your, as Paul had insisted, though still hard to think of it as such) home.

You had all the time in the world, no other reason to do it other than you wanted to. Expecting a child, created out of said fucking. That was bound to add some weight, for better or for worse.

It was inevitable maybe. The culmination of avoiding it for three whole weeks (exactly) since you'd reconnected. For all of your resolution, you couldn't resist him, and resisting him only made him suffer, so what good was it, for either of you? Might as well. Even if it ended badly. At least you'd have it now.

Perhaps the pregnancy, the fact that it was his kid in there, was only working Paul up further. Causing him to get even more smitten.

It was too saccharine maybe, but it was what it was, him clinging to you, fuckign or otherwise.

You'd fucked upon waking, and even as you made breakfast, he was pressed to your back, kissing and nipping your neck.

It was sunny out. Maybe warm also. You could've gone to the park, or out to a cafe somewhere, something nice and relaxing for a day like this. But there really wasn't any reason to go out. (Additionally, you might not be able to abide within the laws of public decency if out with him, in the state you both were in as of late...)

In the afternoon you both laid in bed together.

Mostly, you were lazily admiring, touching him as you wanted, as now you could.

Paul allowed it. Very much so. He loved being fussed over, and you couldn't help but do it. Compatible in that facet, at the very least. He was so, so pretty.

He smiled sweetly, his eyes shut, running your palm along the curve of his bare side, from his hip to his waist, over his chest.

The skin was so lovely to touch, and warm too. You did like that he didn't have hair on his chest, or too much on his body for that matter. Many men did. It made him seem softer, like a woman would be.

But you loved the hair he did have. His forearms, those legs of his... elsewhere, more intimate.

There wasn't any objective, nor anything else to do.

The child wouldn't come for a good six months. You'd enjoy the peace while it lasted. Though you'd not let that slip to Paul. You knew if he could, he'd make it come tomorrow, so impatient to have a baby of his own to hold and fuss over.