Logan has been so ... I’m not sure what the word is ... attentive. Conscientious? Solicitous? Kind? All of these.

“Honey, honey, honey,” he crooned at bedtime while carefully undressing me. He kissed each of my nipples before leading me to the loveseat. He sat me back and kissed my belly and said he’d make me the most soothing cup of sleepy time tea imaginable. He was soon back but without the tea, just the jar of honey. He adjusted my legs across his lap, supported me with one arm, and tilted the honey jar until a golden drop oozed over the rim and fell to my belly.

We watched it flow slowly down the swollen slope of my baby bump and all the way to the notch of my sex, where it stalled. “Not to worry,” Logan said, and he spilled more honey. Quite a lot more. It added to the flow, a slow river of sweet stickiness, and despite my giggles, it slipped between the folds, skimming my clitoris, coating my pee place, pooling in the opening of my honey pot. “There,” said Logan, sporting a serious but satisfied sort of grin. “Where?” I asked. “Here,” he said, his finger following the honey trail.

Eventually his lips and tongue followed his fingers, and then his cock followed his lips and tongue. I came and came and came.

Logan makes the best sleepy time tea.