Campus Corner (Open)

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I laugh quietly and smile. "I'll do it as often as I can manage, baby, alright?" I say softly. "Speaking of baby. . . Can you watch him for a few hours? I haven't slept a wink. . ." I lean up and kiss your cheek.
 
I laugh and put my pants back on before curling up on the couch. "You two behave," I say softly, already drifting off to sleep. "Formula's in the fridge, been keeping a few bottles chilled for him. . . "
 
I take Little Reece to the bar before the crowd rolls in. For the most part, he sleeps in his carrier, waking only when Riley wants to hold him. as she does she tears up and says she thought she would hold my baby, but that it would be hers, and asks how you are. I tell her you're tired still and doing a great job as a new mom. Mr. Little Reece captures the hearts of all the girls in the bar, and we take cell phone pics with all of them, a couple even kissing my cheek in the pic. I'm certainly flattered with the attention, and also proud of my little man.
 
We get home a couple hours later, and Tiny Reece is wailing like a newborn. Rather than spank the hell out of him, I try to get him to take some formula, but it doesn't work. I try not to wake you, rocking him, but nothing seems to calm him.
 
I wake up to the baby crying and you trying to soothe him. I get up and come over to you with a sleepy smile. "He needs his diaper changed," I say softly, whispering soft words to Little Reece and I change his diaper, and he begins making happy noises as I hold him in my arms. "There, all better, right?" I ask the two of you and am greeted with a happy coo from our son.
 
"He was a hit at the bar," I tell you. I show you our pics. "Here he is with Aunt Riley. Here he is helping Don mix some martinis. Here he is with a couple hot girls from the pom squad. Here he and daddy are with a couple girls from the pom squad," I blush. "Here he is, um....." My voice trails off.
 
I'm smiling and laughing. "At least they're cute," I tease you, kissing your cheek. "I still have your cock though." I gently bounce the baby in my arms.
 
I growl a bit. "Do you?" I ask, playfully, kissing you on the cheek, and watching Tiny Reece stretch a sleepy hand out and press it against his mommy's heart, thinking the two of you are the most beautiful sight in the whole world.
 
I smile and watch the baby, my heart swelling with happiness. "He has the bluest eyes," I say softly. "I hope they stay that way," I confess.
 
"They're so blue, baby, I just hope they will. . ." I'm smiling now, blushing a little. "However, I hope our little girl has your eyes."
 
I laugh a bit. "Well, I hope that is the only thing of mine that she has." I kiss your temple. "Actually, she needs my body too. If she has yours, we won't keep the boys off of her," I say, patting your hip.
 
I laugh. "I'm sure that she'd not only have you keeping them off of her, but big brother here too," I tease. I look down on at Little Reece and watch him sleep.
 
"I don't know, look at him. He just sleeps and cries like a little girl," I say, moving his hand from his face. "And what if she wants to go to a bar and go home the same night with the bartender?" I wink and slap your butt before going to pour a coke from the fridge.
 
"Then she's just inherited something more from her mother," I say. "And don't worry, if he's a linebacker in the future, no body's going to hurt his baby sister." I kiss your cheek and bounce the baby a little more before setting him down in his bassinet.
 
"He might be a quarterback, with all the crying," I put my arms around you, casually and playfully sliding one hand, cold from my coke, down the front of your pants.
 
I squeal and squirm. "Reece!" I admonish you with a laugh. I relax into you. "Hurry, let's get in bed, before he wakes up.
 
I hold you in the crook of my arm, listening to you snore lightly, falling asleep myself and getting up in the night to rock little Reece back to sleep himself, loving you and my little dude as much as may be possible. I climb back in bed, shifting around a bit, trying not to wake you.
 
The next morning, I get up early and get the baby downstairs. I give him formula and give him a bath, before dressing him in a tiny jumper that makes him look like he has puffy, superhero muscles all over, and a wife beater, because why have a kid if he can't be used to amuse you. I begin to cook breakfast, sitting the baby in his carrier, inappropriately close to where I am making bacon, while he sleeps.
 
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