Calla
The silence of planes had always been soothing to me. Something about being above the clouds, detached from the world’s noise, gave me space to think and feel.
James sat across from me, quietly reading through a design proposal, but my focus was fixed on Amiyah.
She was curled up next to me in her first-class seat, the soft glow from the window painting her cocoa skin in bronze sheen. Even with her headphones in and her eyes closed, she looked ethereal. Pregnancy had given her a glow that no luxury brand could replicate.
Her body was changing, yes, but to me she looked like art. Her breasts fuller, her hips wider, her curves a perfect testament to everything womanly and divine. Every inch of her seemed to dance with new life, and I found myself mesmerized by the gentle rhythm of her breathing.
James glanced up from his tablet, caught me staring, and smirked. “You’ve been staring at her for twenty minutes.”
I smiled back. “And your point?”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “None. Just making an observation.”
I looked back at her, still smiling. “She’s more beautiful every day, I don’t even know how that’s possible.”
It was true. There was a strength in Amiyah now, something radiant that came from deep inside her.
She had fully committed herself to this pregnancy, body and soul.
She changed her diet without complaint, started attending prenatal fitness classes, and radiated a healthiness that made me proud beyond words.
She was carrying our baby, our love made flesh, and I had never been more in awe of anyone in my life.
And yes, I wanted her constantly. There was no point pretending otherwise.
The pull between us had always been magnetic, but lately, it had deepened into something even more primal.
I refused to keep my hands and mouth off her body.
Every soft touch, every kiss, every moment of closeness felt amplified.
She smelled like warmth and sweetness, like everything my body craved, so I feasted.
I sucked her soul from her body at least once every day; her pussy being extra wet and gushy was an added bonus.
There were nights when the only obedience I required of her was to come on my face or my pussy as we tribbed.
As I got lost in my thoughts, I found myself brushing my thumb along her hand, tracing the delicate lines of her skin, and she stirred, opening her eyes slowly.
“Hey,” she whispered sleepily, smiling when she saw me.
“Hi, baby.”
She stretched a little, adjusting the blanket. “We almost there?”
“Almost,” I said softly. “About an hour out.”
She nodded and smiled, her fingers slipping between mine. I brought her hand to my lips and kissed it, lingering there for a moment.
James glanced over, smiling quietly before turning his attention back to his work. He knew me too well to interrupt. As the flight attendants dimmed the lights, I leaned back and let my head rest against the seat, my thumb still brushing over Amiyah’s skin.
I thought about everything we had been through, everything I had been through, and everything that brought us here.
The therapy sessions, the healing, the laughter, the long nights planning for the baby, the soft mornings waking up tangled together.
We built something beautiful, something whole, and now, heading to Curacao, it felt like the start of a new chapter.
A moment to breathe before life changed again.
I looked at Amiyah one more time and smiled to myself before looking across to James. They are my peace, my purpose, my heartbeat in human forms.
And as the plane cut through the clouds toward the island, I promised myself to make this week everything she deserved, soft, slow, and full of love.
From the moment we stepped off the plane, the air felt warm, soft, and thick with salt, as if the island itself were exhaling after a long day. Curacao had a way of slowing everything down, pulling the tension right out of your shoulders before you even realized you had any.
Our driver greeted us with a smile, took our bags, and within minutes we were winding along a road that looked like something out of a travel magazine. The water was the kind of blue that made you stare, and the Kabana palm trees swayed as if they were waving just for us.
Kontiki Resort was everything I imagined and more.
The open-air lobby smelled of coconut and jasmine, and the sound of waves crashing in the distance blended perfectly with soft Caribbean music.
The staff welcomed us like family, champagne flutes in hand for me and James, and a tall glass of sparkling mango juice for Amiyah.
She looked around with wide eyes, taking it all in, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“This is insane,” she said, laughing softly. “You really didn’t have to go this far, Calla.”
I tilted my head. “You’re carrying our child, and you think I’m going to half-step your baby moon? Be serious, Princess.”
James laughed, resting a hand on my lower back. “You know there’s no point arguing with her,” he told Amiyah.
She grinned and shook her head. “I’m learning that fast.”
Our suite overlooked the ocean, with floor-to-ceiling glass doors that opened onto a private deck and plunge pool. Inside, everything was warm wood and linen, soft light bouncing off the white walls. A few tropical flowers sat in a vase on the table, their scent subtle but intoxicating.
Amiyah kicked off her sandals and waddled to the balcony, the sunlight catching the glow of her skin.
Watching her standing there, one hand resting on her round, growing belly as James walked behind her and wrapped his muscular arms around her and rubbed it as he kissed her neck, I thought I might never stop falling in love with them.
I stepped next to them, my hand joining James’ as he lifted her belly, giving her body some relief, and I rubbed it. “How’s it feel?” I whispered against her ear as I kissed her neck.
“Like heaven,” she murmured.
Good. That was exactly what I wanted for her.
When James told me he had planned a baby moon, I had spent weeks planning this evening.
First, I called our OB before we left to ask what Amiyah could and couldn’t do while we were here.
I wanted her to enjoy herself thoroughly, but safely.
When the doctor told me she was cleared to do anything within her comfort level, I exhaled for the first time in days.
Tonight, I had something special planned.
A private chef was coming to our villa to prepare dinner, a five-course meal inspired by the island’s heritage and flavors. I wanted it to be sensual and immersive, every bite a reminder that life could still taste this good, even in transition.
The menu was full of color and heart. Caribbean ceviche to start, roasted plantains drizzled with honey, red snapper in coconut sauce, and jerk-spiced lamb with mango chutney.
Dessert was passionfruit mousse with shaved dark chocolate.
I had arranged for everything to be paired with local mocktails and wines, depending on who was drinking what.
I told the chef I wanted the atmosphere to be soft, not showy. Candles, a little music, maybe some rose petals by the table, just enough to make the night feel like a celebration of love rather than formality.
Because that’s what this was. This baby moon wasn’t just about getting away. It was about relaxing and enjoying ourselves as a childless triad before everything changed. It was about joy, and balance, and gratitude for what we had built.
Amiyah turned in my arms and looked up at me, her expression tender. “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”
I smiled. “You deserve everything, baby.”
She leaned in and kissed my cheek, her lips soft and lingering. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”
“I’ve been told,” I teased, and she laughed.
James looked between us before lowering her belly and turning around to kiss her slowly, before making his way to kiss me the same way. He slid his hands around my waist, his deep voice calm and content. “I say we unpack, nap, and then let Chef work his magic tonight.”
“Deal,” Amiyah said, already rolling her bag toward the bedroom.
Watching them move, the laughter filling the suite, I felt something settle in my chest. Life felt easy, no boardrooms, no stress, no ghosts of the past, only the sound of waves, and the promise of a night filled with peace, and if all went well, a little mischief too.
By the time the sun melted into the sea, Curacao felt like a dream we had all stepped into together. The sky was streaked with shades of honey and coral, and the sound of the ocean drifted through the open doors of our suite like music written just for us.
Dinner had been perfect, everything I hoped it would be.
Our private chef had woven magic into every course. Sweet, savory, spicy, tender. Each dish told a story, a celebration of the island and of us. Watching James laugh, his deep voice low and steady, and Amiyah smile, glowing in the candlelight, filled me with something that felt like peace.
When the last plate was cleared and the chef said goodnight, the suite shifted.
The music softened, the candles I had arranged earlier burned lower, and the lights dimmed until the room was bathed in a golden glow that seemed to pulse in rhythm with my heartbeat.
Amiyah turned to me first, her eyes curious. “Calla, what’s going on?”
James glanced between us, his expression somewhere between amused and cautious. “Yeah, what did you do?”
I smiled, feeling the warmth of the moment bloom in my chest.
I had been planning this for months, waiting for the right time and place. And here, in this quiet paradise where the world had slowed down enough for us to be, everything felt aligned.
“Tonight,” I said softly, “is our collaring ceremony.”
Amiyah blinked. “Our what?”
James leaned forward, his brow furrowing slightly. “You’re serious?”