Unbroken Bond

The days continued to pass in a whirl of passion and tenderness, and the weight of my pregnancy seemed to heighten everything between Max, Ant, and me. They could not keep their hands off me, nor could I keep myself from wanting them. Their touches, their whispers, the way they claimed me — it all felt so inevitable. So deeply rooted in us.

One evening, as we lay together, the weight of their bodies on either side of me, a quiet conversation drifted between us. It was Max who spoke first, his voice low and steady as he brushed his fingers along my swollen belly, the twins inside me a constant reminder of how far we had come.

“You know, love,” Max murmured, his thumb tracing slow circles on my skin, “we’ve only just begun.”

Ant’s hands found my waist, pulling me closer, his body flush against mine. His voice was equally soft, but his words were no less intense. “We want more. We want you to have our children for as long as you can. And when you’re ready, we’ll wait for you to decide. But we’ll never stop, not as long as you’re willing.”

I closed my eyes, their words filling me with a warmth that spread through my entire body. They wanted this — wanted me to carry more of them, to bear their children, to keep giving myself to them. The weight of their desire settled over me, and in that moment, I knew that this was more than a physical craving. It was an unspoken promise that bound us together in ways words could not fully capture.

Without thinking, I turned toward them, my lips brushing against Max’s as I whispered my answer. “I don’t want to stop. I want to keep having your children, both of you. As long as you want me to.”

Ant’s lips pressed against my ear, his voice hot and eager. “You’re ours, every inch of you, love. We’ll keep you full, keep you carrying our children until you’re ready to stop. But we’re not going to let you forget how much we love you.”

Max’s hands slid down my body, cupping my breasts, teasing the tender flesh that had only grown more sensitive with pregnancy. He kissed me deeply, pulling me into him. “You’re more than just our lover,” he whispered. “You’re the mother of our children, our everything. And we’re not done with you.”

The passion between us surged again, a wave that I couldn’t resist, a wave I didn’t want to resist. As much as I wanted to savor the intimacy of these moments, I was drawn to their promise — the idea of continuing this journey with them, of sharing more of ourselves in ways that only we understood.

And so, we continued — together, bound by a shared desire, a love that pulsed through every inch of us. Their hands, their mouths, their devotion to me only deepened as we moved forward. Every day became a new chapter, one where we were united in purpose, in passion, and in the promise of what was yet to come.