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Most nights I stay up long after she falls asleep just watching over the two of them, scared shitless that something might go wrong.
I knew the night my little princess was born that my life would never be the same. Not only because I now had her ‘aunts’ AKA the gaggle constantly underfoot the last few days leading up to the delivery.
But because from the moment the doctor put her in my hands she owned whatever part of me her mother hadn’t already taken.
The first few weeks after we brought her home I was a nervous wreck. I stayed up most nights pacing the house on the lookout for the boogey man. I wondered if all new fathers did this.
It took me a while to get settled and not worry about them constantly every second of every day. I took the first few weeks off after her birth and hated going back to the office.
My other problem was being close to my wife and not being able to have her. Especially when her body was so ripe for fucking. It’s somebody’s joke on us men I guess.
Because we can’t carrying our seed, they’ve found a way to make us pay for putting our mates through the harrows of childbirth by hitting us where it hurts, our own basic instincts.
Why else would I find her new softness so alluring at a time when I need to be hands off? I have to lay beside her each night, smelling her, feeling her as she sleeps with her precious head on my chest. And know I can’t get inside her.
Don’t get me started on what it does to my poor mind and body when I watch her breast feed my child. Dammit, change of thought Jake or you’ll be giving your new secretary who’s all of fifty an eyeful.
