I lean against the doorway, watching in silence as Parker holds Natalie in his arms, his rumbling deep voice now unusually smooth as he sings her a song, his words coming to me as a whisper.

Two minutes later, he’s bending over Natalie’s crib, gently tucking her under the sheets. He remains still for a long moment, looking down at our daughter, and I tiptoe my way into the room.

“Hey,” I whisper with a smile, placing my hand on top of his.

“Hey there,” he squeezes back my hand, his tone of voice soft and low so as to not wake up Natalie. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I was waiting for you.” Taking his hand in mine, our fingers laced around each other, I start making my way out of the room, pulling him after me. We get out of the room as silently as possible, leaving the door open just enough so that we can hear Natalie stir in her sleep, and then he’s on me so fast the movements of his body are just a blur.

He pins me against the wall, his hands on my waist, and remains like that for a second that seems to stretch into eternity. Slowly, he leans into me, and my eyelids droop right before our lips touch. We kiss in silence, our bodies pressed tight against each other.

When I was younger, my mother used to say that love didn’t exist, and even lust only existed for a few months at best. Now, I have no idea why she thought telling that to a ten-year old was such a great idea, but ever since I met Parker that I finally realized my mother hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. Love exists, and there’s no expiration date on lust and desire.

“I miss this body,” Parker whispers against my ear, his fingers going down to the hemline of my nightgown.

“What are you talking about?” I respond with a soft chuckle, and then bite down on my lower lip remembering that Natalie has just fallen asleep. We were together just a few hours ago, when Natalie took her afternoon nap, so it’s a bit precocious to say he misses my body.

“Well,you know me,” he grins, “I could spend the whole day kissing your naked body.” His fingers trail under my nightgown, brushing against my inner thigh, and I run my tongue between my lips, looking straight into his eyes.

“That’s why I chose you,” I tease him, placing two of my fingers under his chin and guiding his mouth toward mine. Our lips touch for just a second, and then he pulls back, tucking a stray lock of hair over my ear.

“You chose me? That’s really funny,” he chuckles. “It’s not how I remember it happening.”

“Oh, really? That’s normal. You’re getting old, so I guess your memory isn’t as sharp as it used to be,” I tease him, hooking my fingers on his dress shirt and showing him and inviting smile.

“Really, really funny,” he whispers, flattening the palm of his hand between my thighs and forcing me to gasp in surprise. “Do I have to show you I’m not that old?”

“I think you do,” I reply, letting go of his shirt and allowing my fingers to trail down his chest. Opening my hand as wide as I can, I let it slide down to his crotch and then I give his cock one harsh squeeze as it hardens up against my fingers.

“Very well,” he replies and, moving lightning fast, bends over and picks me up from the floor. He walks down the hallway as silently as possible, and then pushes the door to our bedroom open with his outer thigh.

He walks up to bed and puts me down gently, climbing up on the mattress after me, his mouth looking for mine in the dark. We kiss then, our bodies locked in a tight embrace, and I close my eyes and surrender to the moment.

It’s been one year since I gave birth to Natalie, and it has been the most wonderful year of my life. Having a child really opens your eyes up to how vast the universe really is, to how mysterious its inner workings are. One moment I’m a pawn in a state-wide political scheme, the other I’m swept into the arms of the man I love, holding a child - my child - close to my chest. That’s how the universe works, I think: it doesn’t give you clear instructions, but it usually prods you in the right direction. All you have to do is pay attention.

“I love you,” I whisper in the darkness of the room, my hands roaming over his back and untucking his shirt. My legs are spread, lacing his waist and pulling him into me, his crotch pressed tight against my already wet thong.

“So do I, Amy,” he says, his hands on my shoulders. “So do I…” He pulls the straps of my gown down my arms, his lips laying gentle kisses on my shoulders, and then reaches for my breasts with one hand. I’m not wearing a bra, so he cups my right breast and squeezes it softly. Even though the room is swimming in the darkness of the night, I know our eyes are locked.

My nightgown comes off in a matters of seconds, and his shirt follows suit. With my back arched, I run my fingers over the contour of his muscled pectorals and abs, enjoying it in such a way that I can’t help but close my eyes and let out a chuckle fill the whole room.

“Hey, you’re going to wake her up,” I hear Parker’s voice say, and so I use the oldest trick in the book to silence myself. I crane my neck and crush my mouth against his, our lips dancing and wrestling as my hands go down to his pants and unbuckle his belt before moving onto the zipper and pushing it down.

It’s crazy to think about it, but it’s been like this everyday. Even though we’ve never been as busy (my business keeps on shattering profit records, Parker is always swamped in senatorial work and… well, raising a child is no easy task), we always manage to steal some time just for ourselves. The way I see it, a relationship is like a flower - and if you want it to keep on growing, it’s your responsibility to water it. Of course, it goes way beyond sex, but let’s not fool ourselves - sex is pretty important when a man and woman are concerned. Specially if you’re talking about Parker and I; I mean, sometimes I seriously think we might be addicts to each other’s bodies. It’s the good kind of addiction, though, right?

“That’s it, Mr. President…” I pant as I pull his pants down his legs, feeling the round curve of his ass cheeks. Remember when I used to call him daddy? Well, now I’ve taken to calling him President. I know he doesn’t really like it when I call him that, but it’s stronger than me - a lot of Senators are pressing him harder to run for the White House in the next elections, and the President, the one in office right now, even called Parker up for a private meeting.

I know he’s still trying to debate which path he’s going to take, though. On the one hand I know he sees the Presidency as the most powerful way to change the world for the best but, on the other, I know he doesn’t want to miss the opportunity to see Natalie grow up.

Either way, whatever he chooses, I’ll stand by him.

“I told you I--”

“Yeah, yeah… No presidential nicknames… But I can assure you of one thing, you’d the most hung president ever,” I say with a smile, curling my fingers around his cock as it springs free from his boxers briefs.

“How can you possibly know that?” He asks, and the tone of his voice tells me there’s a wide smile on his face.

“Intuition,” I reply, moving my hand back and forth over the length of his cock. To be truth, it has nothing to do with intuition - I just don’t think anyone can compete with Parker’s twelve inches.

With one curious and eager hand, Parker pulls my thong down my legs; feeling the soft cotton sheets under my naked body, I let go of his cock and dig my fingers into Parker’s ass cheeks, forcing him to press his body on mine.

I gasp as I feel his cock parting my wet inner lips, and he’s all the way inside of me in a fraction of a second. I nibble at his earlobe as he starts to thrust, his rhythm a tender one, and it doesn’t take long for my body to start burning up from the inside out.

I twist my body under Parker’s as he thrusts, closing my eyes and allowing these past two years to flash behind my shut eyelids. I don’t think I know what I’ve done to deserve such happiness, but what matters is that I’m living the dream.

A beautiful daughter, a handsome husband. Everything I need.

Sure, we also have money in the bank, a new mansion in the Hamptons (the one where we are right now, just another one of our weekend escapades), and respect from the common American. But, really, while having all that is super nice, it doesn’t really matter in the great scheme of things - love trumps all, right? I know it might sound corny as hell, but now that I’m living these words, I just can’t help myself. I guess Parker, despite his bad boy persona and winner-takes-all attitude, has turned me into an helpless romantic.

He has changed too.

Well, not exactly changed - I think he just shed a few layers of the old Parker and assumed the kindness living underneath these layers. He has turned out to be the kindest father I’ve ever seen, and over-protective as well. Forget all about me being a mother hen; if there’s someone taking up that mantle, it’s Parker. And, hell, it suits him.

Of course, he keeps all that softness hidden away between fours walls. Whenever he addresses the Senate, or whenever there are tough decisions to make, you can count on him to be his old take-no-prisoners self. A lover when he’s with me, a warrior when he steps onto the battlefield.

And something else entirely whenever he picks up little Natalie, all the tension slipping out from his body as he holds her with his bigs hands.

“Never let me go, Parker,” I whisper into his ear, feeling that sweet pressure mounting inside of me, the fires of hell getting ready to be set free on my insides.

“Never,” he repeats after me, his deep voice coming out with a groan. I dig my fingernails into his back, feeling my muscles twitch and spasm; his cock does the same inside my pussy, pulsing hard against my inner walls as his seed fills me up to the brim.

“I’ve been thinking,” he starts, still holding his long inches inside me, “what do you say we make another baby?”

“I think that’s the best thing I’ve heard today,” I reply without even stopping to think about it, my voice coming out ragged and spent. The words fly out from between my lips, echoing in the dark room, and I pull him into me and kiss him.

Forget about the presidency, and forget about paving the way into an IPO for my company. Right now, all my plans for the future have fully shifted into Mother-Amy mode.

I think there isn’t anything more worthwhile in the world than being a parent. To know that you’ve created a life, drawing it out from the nothingness in the universe. It’s magic. It really is.

And so is love. Whoever says I’m a dreamer, I’ll go right ahead and agree. Because there’s nothing better than believing in things such as love and magic, and then seeing it all come truth right in front of your eyes.

Never stop dreaming - if you don’t give up on the love, it won’t give up on you.