“Always,” she says, taking my cock into her hand and placing it at her entrance. I slide into her as slowly as I can. Both of us let out a moan when I get all the way in. “Markos.” She whispers my name, and I move now, my head buried in her neck, and then I put my mouth on hers to stop her from moaning out loud.

“I’m there,” she tells me, and I know she is as I look into her blue eyes that I can get lost in. I watch her the whole time I fall over, and then I kiss her lips. “I’m going to need another shower,” she says when I slip out of her, and she walks over to the shower and turns it on. “Where are the kids?”

“I put on some cartoon I found on Netflix,” I tell her and smile when I think about my children. That’s right, more than one. I wash my hands and walk to the door, opening it in case one of the kids calls us. We had Karrie six months after we got engaged. She came out with black hair and the bluest eyes I have ever seen. I was in love the minute they placed her in my arms, and my mother was over the moon she finally had a girl to spoil, it would be bows and dresses.

It was also when The Serial Dater became The Serial Mommy, and well, her following just went crazy. It went even crazier when two months after having Karrie, she found out she was pregnant again. She thought it was a mistake because no one gets pregnant while breastfeeding. She didn’t believe the five tests she did, and it was only when the doctor confirmed it did she admit defeat.

So three days before Karrie turned one, she gave birth to my son Stefano, who looks like the stamp of me. They are almost like twins, and just when I thought we were done and one got ahead of us, and two years after Stefano, we had our little princess Angelica. Who looks like a mixture of both of us except with crystal green eyes.

“Ma mere.” Angelica comes walking into the bathroom with her blanket trailing her under her arm. “Je suis fatigué.” I’m tired, she says. Another thing, our kids speak French and English. And if my father has anything to say about it, they are going to speak Greek.

“D’accord, princesse,” she says, turning off the shower and drying herself. Angelica comes over to me and holds up her hands, and I pick her up and she lays her head on my shoulder. “All that sugar they ate at Karrie’s and now comes the down part.”

“No one to blame but yourself.” I smile at my wife as she glares. “If you didn’t spoil Karrie, she wouldn’t want to do it back to you.”