A few months had slipped by in a whirlwind of joyful exhaustion, the twins—Caz and Ava—growing with that rapid, unstoppable energy that turned every day into a new adventure. They'd started crawling now, their tiny hands and knees propelling them across the wooden floors with surprising speed and mischievous determination, transforming our cozy home into a playground of endless hide-and-seek. Caz, with his dark tuft of hair and bold, exploratory spirit that mirrored my own stubbornness, would wriggle behind the couch, his little tail poking out like a giveaway flag amid giggles that bubbled up when we'd "discover" him, his golden eyes sparkling with delight at the game. Ava, her features softer with Miko's delicate grace and those striking golden eyes that seemed to hold endless curiosity, somehow managed to squeeze into the most impossible spots—behind the fridge once, her soft coos echoing from the narrow gap until we gently coaxed her out with toys and coos of our own, laughing in disbelief at how she'd maneuvered her tiny body into such a tight space. They were sneaky little things, their hybrid instincts kicking in early, turning simple tasks like laundry or cooking into obstacle courses as we'd chase after them, scooping them up with affectionate scolds.
They'd become less demanding somewhat, their cries spacing out as they discovered the world on their own terms—exploring textures with chubby fingers, pouncing on shadows like true felines, their tails swishing in tandem during play. Miko attributed it to their half-cat hybrid nature, watching them with a proud purr as they tumbled together on the rug. "Like me when I was little," she'd say, her golden eyes softening with nostalgia, her hand on her now-flatter belly, the pregnancy weight shedding gradually. "Instincts run strong—curious, agile, always finding trouble. But it's what makes them ours."
One morning, I woke to the soft weight pressing down on my chest, the room bathed in the gentle, diffused light of dawn filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets and highlighting the faint outlines of the nursery corner where the crib stood like a sentinel. Miko was on top of me, her body straddling my hips with playful intent, her hand already wrapped around my dick, stroking slowly and teasingly through my boxers, her touch light but insistent, sending heat pooling low in my belly like molten lava. Her nightshirt had ridden up, revealing the curve of her breasts and the faint stretch marks on her skin from the pregnancy—marks she wore like badges of honor, a testament to the life she'd carried. Her golden eyes locked on mine with a hungry, mischievous glint, her tail swishing playfully behind her, brushing my thighs with feathery touches. "Twins are with Akira for a bit," she purred, her voice husky with desire, leaning down to nip my earlobe gently, her breath hot against my skin. "So we can have some uninterrupted fun. Been too long since I could go rough—missed this."
Before I could fully respond, my body already awakening under her skilled touch, she shifted with feline grace, guiding me inside her with a gasp of pleasure, her walls clenching tight and wet around me as she started riding—rough and relentless, hips slamming down hard, breasts bouncing with each powerful thrust, moans escaping her lips in breathy waves that filled the room like music. "Fuck me like you mean it," she whispered dirty, motivating me with words that ignited fire, "Pound me harder—make me scream your name, fill me up, but not yet—tease me first." She spun for reverse cowgirl, her ass grinding against me in sinful circles, tail wrapping my wrist as she bounced faster, the view hypnotic, her back arching as pleasure built. Side fuck followed—she on her side, leg hooked over mine, me thrusting deep and angled to hit that perfect spot, her cries echoing as her walls pulsed, dirty talk spilling—"Choke me, make me yours"—until I came hard, pulling out to spill on her stomach, ropes hot and thick as she rubbed it in with a satisfied grin, licking her fingers clean with a wicked purr.
After, breathless and sated, sweat cooling on our skin in the morning air, we cleaned up—the sheets damp with our passion—and went downstairs for something to eat. Akira was in the kitchen, playing with the twins—Caz giggling as she tickled his belly with a feather toy, his little hands batting at it; Ava cooing at a colorful rattle in her grasp, her tail swishing in delight. "They're little explorers already," Akira said, handing them over with a smile, her energy a contrast to our weariness.
As we ate—simple oatmeal swirled with fresh berries, the sweetness bursting on the tongue, coffee strong and black to chase away the fog—there's a knock at the door, sharp and insistent, cutting through the morning calm. I went to answer, opening it to Elena—her human features friendly, brown hair tied back in a ponytail, a concerned look in her warm eyes, dressed in casual jeans and a sweater against the morning chill. "Some guys are looking for you and Akira," she said, glancing over her shoulder nervously at the empty street. "After Bucharest—they're asking around town, rough types with accents. Be careful; they seem serious."
I remembered Dimitar—shot by Akira in that blood-soaked alley, the shootout chaos that had us fleeing like shadows. "Thanks for the heads up," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Come in—join us for breakfast? Fresh coffee's on."
She did, stepping inside with a relieved nod, and played with the twins—Ava grabbing her finger with a delighted gurgle, Caz babbling happily as she bounced him on her knee. I finished eating with Miko, the warmth of family cutting through the fresh worry of the threat.
Miko finally mentioned the wedding over the last sips of coffee. "We should finally plan it," she said, her voice excited amid the twins' coos. "Soon—before they start walking and causing more chaos."
For the next hour, MC and Miko decided with help of Elena and Akira—venue by the river under blooming trees, simple invites handwritten for close friends, neutral decor in whites and greens to match the season—while the twins crawled and played, Caz hiding behind a chair with giggles, Ava batting at a soft toy with her tiny tail swishing.
I asked about Sylvia; Elena said, "She's working hard—busy at the cafe right now, long shifts covering for someone. She sends her love, though—can't wait to meet the twins properly."
After dinner—a hearty stew simmered slow with tender meat and veggies, flavors rich and comforting—we put the twins to sleep in their crib, their tiny breaths evening out into peaceful rhythms. Miko and I fell into bed, exhaustion claiming us immediately, her cuddling close, head on my chest, our bodies entwined in the quiet night.