T Novan - Exposure Season 4

I work a hand between us and begin unfastening the buttons holding the soft chambray shirt closed. Easing it off her shoulders, I lean my weight against her, lowering us both to the mattress.

I am surrounded by softness. Our featherbed is welcoming in its embrace, gently cradling our bodies. The Egyptian cotton of our duvet caresses our skin, and I want to feel more of it. And Kels is incredibly soft and welcoming. I press my thigh between her legs, parting them gently. I begin a slow grind against her, hoping to convince her that naked would be really good right now.

"Harper," she breathes.

I push up, reluctantly breaking the delicious connection between my breast and her mouth. "I love you," I whisper back. Holding myself up on one arm, I reach down and undo the top button of her jeans. I tickle the sensitive skin below her bellybutton, eliciting a low moan.

"Harper," she says again.

I love it when she only knows my name. I bend down and taste the skin recently exposed. Her hands go to my shoulders, urging me down. "Patience," I tell her, knowing it will do no good. I close my eyes and enjoy the sound of the zipper of her jeans sliding down. I tug at the denim, pulling it over her slim hips. She kicks her legs, helping me remove it, taking her socks along with it.

I drink in the sight of her. Luscious. Perfect. Sensual. Motherhood has only served to make her more beautiful, more desirable. I breathe in the scent of her arousal. And mine. I am filled with a need for her that defies expression.

She begins rocking against my leg, not caring we have yet to remove her underwear, anxious to begin. She pulls me down against her. My face is pressed in the hollow between her neck and shoulder, my lips against her hot skin, coated with a light sheen of sweat. She claws at my back, desperate to increase pressure, holding me close. Her hips are moving rhythmically against me, and her panting breaths indicate that she is getting closer to her release.

I grind my leg into her center, unable to suppress a moan at the wetness which permeates my jeans. I give her what she wants. I slide my left hand down the side of her body, under the thin band of fabric at her hip, moving under to cup her buttock. I use this leverage to bring her to the pleasure she now blindly seeks.

She arches up, her back and neck thrown back, and she exhales her release. She stays bowed for a long moment and then collapses back into the mattress, her breathing ragged in my ear. Her body is limp beneath mine, and the only pressure now is her arm hooked around my neck. She kisses me languorously, too tired to do much else.

I wait for her to catch her breath before I roll off her and remove the remainder of my clothing. I kick it off the bed and come back to rest on top of her. She welcomes me into her arms, now focused on meeting my very obvious need. Her leg bends, and I settle against it, moving slowly up and down.

Her hands cup my butt, guiding me. My weight rests on my forearms, and I pant in her ear. A groan escapes me when she turns her head and licks my bicep, following the outline of my muscle with her tongue. She gently bites the tender skin, and I feel the swirling heat increase in my gut.

"Come on, baby," she encourages me. "Be mine."

Hers. God, I am hers. Heart. Soul. And, as I fall over the edge, embracing the pleasure she so readily brings me, body. Our movements slow and then stop. I collapse partially on top of her, exhausted in my release.

Kels reaches over and folds the comforter over our intertwined bodies. The warm weight settles over us, and I fall asleep in her arms.

Episode Two: Sympathy for the Devil

"I think it’s just terrible," a lady with a pinched face says into the camera, "what was done to those two little, innocent babies." She sighs dramatically. "I can’t believe the police gave them back to those two lesbians," she whispers the last word, as if speaking it would make her one.

I sit there seething. My fingers tighten around the handle of my mug. My fingers are turning white, and I can see the veins standing up under my skin. Bitch.

"It’s not right!" the witch continues. "I mean, those children deserved a chance to be raised right, in a Christian home, with someone who could provide them correct moral guidance."

"Jesus H. Christ!" I hurl the porcelain mug against the wall, satisfied when I hear it shatter. I follow it across the room, enjoying the sound of the remnants being crushed under my boots.

"Harper," Kels says softly, understanding my anger.

"That fucking bitch kidnapped our children in violation of a court order! She fucking took them out of the state, away from their mother! And that bitch has the audacity to say that our children — our children — were better off with her?" I look around for something to let my anger out on, but with the mug destroyed, all that is left is my wife, who looks a bit irritated by my outburst.

"Harper, I know why you’re angry, and I know why you’re upset, but we knew this would happen. We knew we would be outed; that there would be people who would come out against us, no matter how wrong what my mother did was." She pushes herself up from the couch and comes over to me, taking my hand. "What we have to do is stay calm and face these people, not sink to their level. If we let them see our hurt and anger, it will give them more ammunition to use against us."

I know she’s right, but it doesn’t make me like it. "Fuckers." I glance over my shoulder at the television where another idiot is talking.

"It’s not like they’re a family or anything," some bastard is saying.

"To hell with all of them," I growl. "They don’t know a damn thing."

"You’re right, they don’t." Kels slides her arms around me, nestling close, immediately calming me. "So why does their opinion matter? It shouldn’t. We are a family." She squeezes me tighter. "We have a huge family with more love and support than any of them has ever known; otherwise, they wouldn’t be spouting such stupidity."

I shake my head. "It wouldn’t matter if it were just me. If the only person they hated was me. But when they say these things…" I take a deep breath, and fight back the tears I can feel threatening. "When they say you’re not their mother, or that our babies would be better off with anyone else …" I stop, unable, unwilling, to continue.

"Harper, honey, I was the one in labor for hours. Trust me, I know I’m their mother. I also know," she adds gently, rubbing my back in soothing circles, "that you’re their Mama, and that they need and love us both. Only we can teach them what’s important, the rest doesn’t matter."

I allow myself to be soothed by her words. Placing my lips by her ear, I tell her what is in my heart. "I swear to you, you and the children will never regret our life, our choices."

Kels pulls back so she can look me in the eye. "I never have, and never will, regret the choices I made that put me in your life and in your arms."

I close my eyes and hold her close to me again. If only we could stay like this forever and make the world go away.

The phone rings, and I pick it up. Robie is supposed to call today. "Kingsley," I bark into the receiver. I’m already back at work, which doesn’t thrill me, but makes Langston happier than anything I’ve ever seen before. During my absence, a number of pieces have stalled or gone off track. Worse still, there are no headliner stories in the hopper. Not good during sweeps month. No wonder Langston was anxious to get me back.

"You filthy whore," some woman whispers.

I roll my eyes and make a tick mark on my desk blotter. Up to eight already today. At this rate, I’ll beat yesterday’s thirteen. I would love to know how these idiots are getting around our supposedly secure screening system. "I think the word you’re looking for is lesbian, actually. Traditionally, a whore sleeps with multiple men."