I woke to the soft, golden hues of morning light filtering through the half-drawn curtains, casting a warm, ethereal glow across the bedroom and illuminating the gentle contours of the rumpled sheets tangled around us. The air was still and quiet, carrying the faint, lingering scent of last night's passion—a musky blend of sweat, Miko's lavender shampoo, and something more primal that stirred memories I couldn't quite shake. Miko lay beside me, her body a comforting presence, her cat-like ears twitching slightly in her sleep, her tail draped lazily over my hip like a possessive claim. Her bump rose and fell with each steady breath, a beautiful swell under the thin blanket, a testament to the life—or lives—we'd created together. As consciousness fully returned, the events of yesterday flooded back unbidden: the threesome, Akira's bold, uninvited entrance into our bed, the way their bodies had intertwined with mine in a whirlwind of heat, sensation, and forbidden thrill. Honestly, I'd enjoyed it very much—the raw, unbridled intensity with Akira's curves pressing against me, her moans echoing in the room, contrasting sharply with Miko's tender, loving passion that always felt like coming home. It had been a rush, a release of pent-up desires amplified by the pregnancy's limitations, but now, in the calm light of day, a flicker of guilt tugged at the edges of my mind. This was our life, our family, and introducing complications like Akira could unravel the delicate threads we'd woven if not handled with care.
Shifting closer, I cuddled up to Miko, my arm wrapping gently around her waist, hand resting on the firm swell of her belly where our twins grew stronger each day. Feeling the subtle movements within—a faint kick here, a flutter there—hit me with a sudden realization: birth was only about a month away, maybe a bit more if things stretched out. Time was flying by in a blur of days, our world on the cusp of irrevocable change—diapers, late nights, the joy and chaos of two little hybrids filling our home with cries and laughter. I nuzzled into her neck, inhaling her familiar scent deeply, savoring the quiet intimacy before the day inevitably pulled us apart, my fingers tracing lazy circles on her skin.
Miko stirred beneath my touch, her ears twitching more purposefully as she blinked awake, her golden eyes focusing on me with a sleepy, mischievous glint that made my heart skip. "Morning, handsome," she purred, her voice husky from sleep, stretching languidly against me like a cat in the sun, her body arching in a way that pressed her breasts into my chest, the soft, full mounds yielding warmly through her thin nightshirt. She teased immediately, guiding my hand up to cup one, the fabric thin enough to feel her nipple hardening under my palm as she ground lightly against my thigh, a subtle roll of her hips that sent heat stirring low in my belly. "Like what you feel?" she whispered, her breath hot against my ear, her tail swishing playfully across the sheets. Then, with a wicked grin that revealed the tips of her fangs, she moved my hand lower, placing it firmly on her ass—rounder now from the pregnancy, the curve firm and inviting under my fingers, the flesh giving just enough to make me squeeze instinctively. She encouraged the grope, pressing back into my palm with a soft moan. "Or this more? Take your pick."
I chuckled, my voice rough with morning gravel and rising desire, squeezing back as requested, feeling the plush firmness that always drove me wild. "Both. Always you, kitten. Couldn't choose if I tried."
We lingered like that for a few precious minutes, tangled in the sheets, her body molding to mine, but eventually dragged ourselves out of bed—the mattress creaking in protest as we rose, the cool floorboards grounding us back to reality. Miko pulled on a loose robe, the fabric hugging her curves in all the right places, accentuating her bump and the sway of her hips as she moved. She turned to me with a serious but understanding look, stepping close enough that her scent enveloped me again. "About Akira... I give you the green light, for now," she said, her voice low and laced with a hint of reluctance, her hands resting on my chest. "Do anything with her if it's what you both want—but only until the birth. After the twins come, I'll be able to do all the stretches, the roughness we both love again. No more limits then." Her golden eyes searched mine, a flicker of jealousy there, but also trust and love, her tail brushing my leg in affection.
I nodded, pulling her into a deep kiss, our lips lingering as I tasted the sweetness of her. "Only if you're sure," I murmured against her mouth. "You're my priority—always have been, always will be."
Downstairs, the kitchen was alive with the soft morning light streaming through the windows, illuminating the wooden counters and the vase of wildflowers Akira had arranged the day before, their petals still dewy and fragrant. She was there, leaning against the counter with a distant look out the window at the river's gentle flow, but turned as we entered, her golden eyes locking on me with that same heated intensity from yesterday—desire simmering just below the surface like embers ready to ignite, her tail flicking with subtle invitation. Breakfast was simple but comforting: eggs scrambled fluffy with fresh herbs from the garden, their green flecks adding color and aroma; toast golden and buttered to a crisp sheen; fruit sliced fresh on a plate, juices glistening on the strawberries and apples. We ate at the table, Akira's gaze lingering on me throughout, making the meal tense and charged—Miko noticing with a subtle ear twitch but saying nothing, her foot brushing mine under the table for reassurance, a silent claim amid the undercurrents.
After breakfast, the dishes cleared with clinks into the sink and a quick rinse under running water, I headed to work—the bar's familiar bustle waiting with its polished counters and regulars' stools. Served the usuals: rakia poured smooth for the old timers reminiscing about pre-war days over clinking glasses; beer frothed perfectly for the lunch crowd chatting politics and local gossip, foam spilling slightly over the rims. Viktor clapped my shoulder during a lull, sensing something off in my demeanor but not prying, his gruff voice offering a simple, "You good, kid?" that I brushed off with a nod.
Returned home as the afternoon waned, the sun dipping toward the horizon in a blaze of orange and pink, painting the house in warm hues that made the stone walls glow. The place was quiet—Miko wasn't there, which was normal; with her job letting her off for maternity leave due to the advancing pregnancy, she often went out for leisurely walks along the river or visits to friends, returning when the aromas of dinner began to fill the air, her steps light and her stories from the day ready to share. I wanted a shower to wash away the bar's lingering scent of spilled drinks and smoke, stripping off my shirt as I headed to the bathroom, the fabric sticking slightly to my skin from the day's heat.
Akira used the time perfectly—appearing suddenly in the doorway like a shadow materializing, her eyes dark with intent and hunger. She dragged me in before I could utter a protest, her hands urgent and strong, stripping us both with deft movements—my pants yanked down roughly, pooling at my ankles; her top tossed aside to reveal her full, heaving breasts, nipples already hardened with anticipation, her shorts following in a whisper of fabric. The bathroom filled with steam as she turned on the shower, hot water cascading like a warm rain, fogging the mirror and enveloping us in a humid cocoon.
She pushed me against the tiled wall, the ceramic cool against my back contrasting the heat of her body pressing close, her slick skin sliding against mine under the spray. "Now," she whispered huskily, guiding my hardening length inside her with a gasp, her walls clenching tight and wet around me as I thrust deep, the water splashing with each movement. I fucked her pinned there—rough and relentless, her moans echoing off the tiled walls in throaty waves, breasts bouncing against my chest, her claws raking my back in delicious lines that stung under the hot stream.
" Bath," she suggested breathlessly, her voice ragged with pleasure, and we moved to the tub—me sitting in the warm, bubbling water that lapped at my skin, her straddling me for cowgirl, sinking down with a moan that reverberated through me. She rode hard and fast, hips grinding in sinful circles, ass slapping against me with wet smacks, her breasts swaying hypnotically as she came with a shuddering cry, walls pulsing around me.
Somehow, she twisted for doggy—bent over the tub's edge, ass up high and presented, water sloshing over the sides as I pounded from behind, rough and unyielding, her tail wrapping my arm possessively, claws scratching the porcelain with screeches until she shattered again, her body quaking in release.
At the end, she knelt in the water, taking me in her mouth with fervor, tongue swirling expertly, sucking with a vacuum pull that made my knees buckle until I came, spilling hot down her throat as she swallowed greedily, her eyes locked on mine with triumphant satisfaction.
I took a proper shower after, the water rinsing away the evidence in swirling suds down the drain, while Akira lounged in the bath, bubbles foaming around her curves, a content smile on her lips as she soaked.
Made dinner downstairs—the stir-fry sizzling in the wok with pops of oil, veggies crisp and colorful in greens and reds, meat tender and browning, herbs adding layers of fragrance that filled the house like a welcoming embrace. Miko came home just as it plated, her timing perfect as always, pushing open the door with a tired but radiant smile, kicking off her shoes by the entry. "Smells incredible," she said, hugging me from behind, her bump pressing into my back.
They all ate together, conversation light and flowing—Akira sharing market finds, Miko recounting her walk by the river, the clink of forks harmonious. But after, as dishes cleared, Miko wanted sex—her eyes darkening with need. In the bedroom, door closed, she rode me first—cowgirl on the bed, hips rolling sensual and deep, breasts bouncing with each movement, moans breathy as her walls clenched. Then doggy with pillows propping her ass higher, me thrusting deep but controlled, her cries muffled into the sheets. Side-fucked her last, slow and intimate, her leg hooked over mine, bodies aligned as she came softly, shuddering in my arms.
Miko fell asleep cuddling me, her body flush and warm, bump between us like a shared secret, her breathing evening into peaceful purrs. Finally, silence from Akira's room—no moans, no whispers. Satisfied, perhaps, from our earlier encounter. Sleep claimed me, Miko's warmth my world, the day's indulgences fading into dreams.