Veil of Silence (28 page)

Heather could sense this was going to be quick.  Marsha’s body was gushing onto her fingers, down her palm, and as she thrust inside, she could feel the splashing against her own chest.  She smiled again as she thrust a little harder, a little faster, and watched her wife come undone.

Marsha arched back, hard.  Her neck couldn’t go back any further into the pillows and her fists were pulling at the edges of them.  She gasped and the veins in her neck stood out as she swallowed the scream she wanted to let out.  She didn’t want the children to interrupt this….

It was as she began to come down from the incredible high and Heather crawled up her body, kissing her way to those erect nipples, that Marsha heard the telltale chuckling noises that the baby made prior to waking.

“Snurkle…snurkle…smack…smack,” went his lips as he let them know he was hungry.  “Waa…waa…waaaaa,” he graduated quickly.

Heather sighed.  She’d just laid her entire body on Marsha’s in anticipation of her rolling her over and sharing more with her.  She put her head briefly down on Marsha’s chest before she murmured quietly under the baby’s cry, “I’ll get him.”

Marsha stretched, enjoying the feel of Heather’s body against her own, however momentarily as she murmured back, “Good, because I didn’t want to get up.”  She grinned up at her wife as she looked disgruntled and got up.  She enjoyed the view of Heather’s naked ass as it crossed the room, the muscles playing across the skin…it made her hunger for her wife’s body.  They had left this too incomplete not to finish.  She quickly closed her eyes to suppress her urges for the moment. 

“Hey there, little man.  What’s the matter?”  Heather asked as she reached down for a crying Liam.  He kept crying and she felt the fullness of his diaper.  He also felt cold.  The diaper had leaked through and his entire onesie was soaked.  “Oh damn,” she muttered.

“What’s wrong?” Marsha asked from the bed, sitting up and noticing that her nipples were already leaking milk in response to the baby’s cries.  She grimaced at the sight.

“He’s wet the whole bed,” she complained as she put him on top of the dresser they were using as a changing table.

“I’ll help,” Marsha offered as she too got out of the bed naked.

While Heather changed Liam, wiping him down so he wasn’t full of urine and quickly putting on a clean diaper and onesie, Marsha pulled the sheet and plastic covering from the crib.  She quickly wrapped it all in a ball so no urine would escape.  She opened a drawer and pulled out a replacement for both and quickly had a plastic sheet on and then a cute cotton sheet with blue horses.  She checked the blanket Liam had managed to wriggle out from under, probably why he’d gotten cold.  The blanket wasn’t wet and didn’t smell of urine so she slipped it over her arm and held out her arms to Heather for the baby.  Her nipples were really leaking now.

Heather stood and stared as her wife bent over the crib.  She had seen her naked of course, but she had never noticed the scars so prominently displayed over her back, buttocks, and upper thighs.  They were particularly noticeable in the bedroom lighting, standing out, almost glowing.  She swallowed convulsively at the pain her wife must have gone through to obtain those.  She blinked rapidly to control the tears.  Liam began to nuzzle at Heather’s naked chest from where she held him.

“Something wrong?” Marsha asked quietly as she waited for Heather to put the baby into the blanket in her arms. Already, he was making that clucking sound, pursing his lips in anticipation of being fed.  He’d cry again soon in anger if he didn’t get her nipple offered to him and she didn’t want to wake the other children since they were both naked.

Shaking her head, blinking, she came out of the stupor she had been in over the scars.  “Here we go, little man,” she said as she turned their son over to Marsha.

“Keep calling him little man and you are going to give him a complex,” Marsha teased.  She expertly tucked him into the blanket, folding it over, and then tucked his head under her breast and arm so that she could aim the nipple into his mouth.  He quickly latched on…painfully so.  Her nipples were still tender and not baby ready.

“He’ll survive,” she smiled as she saw her wife breastfeeding, something she had thought she might be doing at this point in their lives.  She hadn’t mentioned to Marsha that she wanted to use the sperm they had saved for her own eventual implantation.  She had almost used it last year, but the idea of going through the pregnancy alone scared the hell out of her.  The fee at the bank for storing it had not helped her money situation.

Marsha slowly headed for the bed and sat down.  Liam squirmed when her nipple popped out of his mouth.  “Easy there,” she cooed as she helped him to latch on again.  She winced at how hard he pulled.  Her other nipple began to drip.  She looked up as she noticed Heather watching her tenderly and smiled.  “Can you hand me a rag?” she pointed towards one with her chin.

Heather quickly caught on and swiped the rag from the edge of the dresser and handed it to her wife, dumping the used diaper into the sealed trash can while she saw it.  She joined her wife on the bed, getting under the covers with her and pulling them up over Marsha’s legs.

“Thanks,” she said huskily as she looked tenderly at her wife.

“That always looks like it hurts,” she whispered back.

“You would think after all these kids it wouldn’t anymore, but each time I have to get used to it again cause each time it hurts,” she sighed as she looked back down at Liam.  He was warm, he was tired, and already he was drifting off.  He had just wanted a comfort feed.  He wasn’t truly hungry; he’d just been cold.  She waited until he had drifted a bit further before she wiped his chin to soak up the milk that had dribbled out and, putting her hand behind his neck, lifted him to burp him over her shoulder.  It was a wet one and she worried that he would throw up down her back.  Instead, he sighed deeply and burrowed into her neck, wanting to sleep.  She slowly pulled him back down to her arms and smiled down at her son. 

“Want me to put him in the crib?” Heather asked, feeling slightly left out.

“I got him,” Marsha told her as she pivoted on the bed, her legs coming over the edge.  Using her muscles to pull her over, she stood up and carried him to his crib, being careful not to jostle him.  She laid him on his tummy, his face to the side, and he made suckling noises as he settled in and adjusted.  She smiled, watching him for another moment as he slept peacefully in his crib.  It was a far cry from the sling she had used on Bahir and Amir.  They’d been with her when she fed them, but had frequently been taken by Malekah to show that she, and not Mahsa, was their mother.

“Everything okay?” Heather softly called, watching the soft look on her wife’s face.

Marsha looked up, seeing her beautiful, naked wife waiting for her in their bed.  The blanket had slipped beneath Heather’s breasts, seemingly displaying them for her, waiting for her too.  She felt the return of the desire she had been feeling for her wife not so very long ago.  “Yes,” she answered with a smile and began to crawl up the bed towards her wife, stalking her like a predator.

“What are you doing?” Heather giggled.

“What do you think I’m doing?” was Marsha’s rejoinder.

Heather watched, fascinated, as Marsha crawled up the bed, her breasts hanging down, much bigger than they had been five years ago after Hayley’s birth.  She firmly pushed away any thoughts of the scars on Marsha’s backside as she eagerly anticipated what her wife would do to her.  She wasn’t disappointed as Marsha got right into her space, right in her face, and kissed her deeply….

Marsha smiled into the kiss, enjoying the familiar feel of Heather’s lips beneath her own.  Her lips were just so…kissable that she couldn’t help but enjoy.  They were full, warm, and begged to be sucked.  She indulged herself as she nibbled, sucked, and licked at them, arousing her wife.

Heather had been kissed in the years Marsha was away, but it had all felt so…wrong.  This didn’t.  This felt like coming home.  It felt familiar.  It felt…mmmmmm.  She moaned her enjoyment as Marsha played with her lips. 

Marsha’s hands were gentle as she began to caress the warm body, finding all the familiar spots that she knew so well.  Tickling a little, smiling into the kiss as she teased her wife into arousal.  She petted, licked, fondled, and caressed to her heart’s delight, her body rubbing sensuously against her wife’s. 

Heather couldn’t believe how aroused she was.  Perhaps it was because she hadn’t made love in all the years Marsha had been gone or perhaps it was just that she loved this woman so much.  Marsha seemed to be reacquainting herself with Heather’s body.  It wasn’t happening fast enough for Heather.  The black-haired beauty was touching her everywhere
except
where she wanted her to be touched.  Finally, in frustration, she grabbed Marsha’s hand and unceremoniously plopped it on her crotch.

Marsha nearly laughed.  She’d wondered how long Heather could hold out.  She might have choked on the laughter, but as she realized how wet the blonde really was, she groaned instead.  Her fingers encountered the gush and she had to taste….

“No, I can’t bear it,” Heather panted, pulling at Marsha’s thick hair.  “Fuck me,” she pleaded instead.

Marsha looked up, surprised at the language coming out of her wife’s mouth, and then grinned at the note in her plea.  She obliged by sliding three fingers in and pulling them back out.  She plunged again, a little harder, and watched as Heather’s eyes widened at the sensation.  She was a little rough, but Heather seemed to need it.  Her legs came up and wrapped around Marsha’s waist, urging her on.  Her hands cupped at the soldier’s shoulders, her nails curling into the skin as her back arched.

“More, more, more,” she chanted as she panted.

Marsha couldn’t believe this was the same woman she had left.  For a moment, she suspected Heather had been unfaithful, but then she squashed that thought.  Heather was too honest and had told her how distasteful the dates had been that she forced herself to go on.  Their few friends had encouraged her to move on, but Heather had only been able to try; she hadn’t enjoyed them.  Marsha concentrated on putting her hips into her thrusts, rubbing on the hard little nubbin beneath the ball of her thumb.

Heather’s head thrashed back and forth as she fought the rising tide, but it was useless to fight.  She’d waited far too long and it crashed over her.  Her body broke out in a sweat as she quickly captured Marsha’s lips so she could scream into her wife’s mouth.

Marsha held Heather’s lips with her own, enjoying the feel of the convulsions in her wife’s body beneath her own.  She could feel the quiver in Heather’s legs as the orgasm went on and on and her body squeezed the life out of Marsh’s fingers. 

Heather finally lay beneath her, totally limp with what had been wrung out of her.  Normally she liked to prolong the orgasm, maybe pull a second, even a third out of her body, but the tide of this one had rolled over her so intensely that she had just gone along for the ride.

“Are you okay?” Marsha asked in a whisper, her warm lips kissing the life back into her wife’s ice cold lips.  The blood had drained out of them and focused in her center.  She warmed her wife’s body with her own, pulling the covers up for them both.

Heather nodded weakly and went to push back her hair.

“Wait, what is that?” Marsha asked sharply, seeing something.  “What the hell?  It’s blood!” she gasped.  She pulled back and looked between them to see if Heather was on her period or if she had thrust too hard.  She was horrified at the thought that she might have hurt her wife, even unintentionally.  She turned to reach for the baby rag she had left on the bed and heard Heather gasp.  She turned back immediately and asked, alarmed, “What?”

“It’s your shoulder.  It’s bleeding,” Heather replied, worriedly.

“It is?” she asked stupidly, trying to see her own shoulder and crossing her eyes.  She shook her head.

“Wait a minute,” Heather ordered and quickly got on her knees to lean over and grab the rag Marsha had reached for.  She saw the nail marks and what she had caused.  Both shoulders were bleeding, just slightly, but enough that when she had brushed her hair back she had wiped blood across her forehead.  “I better get bandages,” she said contritely.

Marsha grinned.  She saw that Heather looked embarrassed at her own passions.  “Let it sit for a minute.  The air will dry it,” she told her as the blonde blotted at the scratches.

“It’s not funny!”

“Yes, it is.  Neither one of us knew you did that when you were in the throes,” she giggled.

“Still not funny,” she griped, trying not to smile as she remembered the feelings her wife had engendered in her.

Marsha tweaked a nipple that was leaning against her as Heather blotted with the rag.

“Hey!” she yipped.

“Shhh, you’ll wake the kids,” she warned.

“Then keep your hands to yourself!”

“Yes, ma’am,” she saluted and then took the rag to wipe away the smeared blood on her wife’s forehead.  “You’re something else, you know that?”

“You caused it,” the accusation hung between them.

“I’ll take that.”  She smiled as she leaned in for a kiss, finding Heather’s lips much warmer now.  “Are you okay?” she repeated her earlier question.  She smiled again when the blonde nodded and looked up at her with her cornflower blue eyes.  She began to look a little sleepy as she laid back against their pillows.  “Oh no, you are not going to sleep tonight,” she promised.