Chapter 508 Big Girls Don't Cry:>39

Lena was at first amused by my predicament, then sympathetic, but I knew better than to try and force the issue; her insides had taken quite a jumbling and she needed to recover, and the clinical, detached doctor inside me agreed wholeheartedly with the timescale; trouble was, the horny husband-with-needs in there right alongside him disagreed vehemently and spent the long and restless nights baying for her. Finally, one night, Lena took pity on me, realising I was keyed-up to an almost impossible pitch. The baby was sleeping soundly in his cot next to the bed, and Lena was fast asleep against me, poor girl, obviously tired out, her arm thrown across my chest, and the scent of her hair filling my nostrils. These days she always smelled delicious; a delicate milky bouquet with overtones of baby oil, baby shampoo, and talcum powder always accompanying her, a sweet and tempting combination, and, as usual, I was in a state of frustrated arousal; my head was, as usual, filled with memories and fantasies of the wild and enormously satisfying sex we had indulged in during early days of her pregnancy, and Rosy Palm and her five daughters just weren't cutting it; I was becoming convinced I was actually going out of my mind with sexual frustration. It was while I was having thoughts like this that Lena shifted, her arm sliding off me and her hand coming to rest flat on my stomach, the edge of her palm just brushing my ever-present erection.