Mmmm… the bathtub called to me, inviting me to sink into
the warm water and give my aching back a break. “One day, when I
am rich and famous, I will design my own bathtub,” I muttered,
wishing the tub to be twice as large as it actually was. Oh, to
have the warm water completely cover me! To be able to get my
legs and body in the water all at one time! To float, with no
weight at all.
Well, Daryll couldn’t understand why I wanted to spend all
my time in the tub. Being eight months pregnant, the tub was one
of the few places I felt comfortable. Besides, being naked felt
wonderful. My clothing always felt tight, and everything rubbed
against my hypersensitive nipples. The constant abrasiveness of
my clothing drove me crazy. Maybe I should walk around the house
topless.
Laughing at the crazy thought, I picked up the soap, working
up a good lather in my hands. Oh, how slick my hands felt,
running across my swollen breasts, down the hard lump in my
belly. As miserable as I felt, I also felt incredibly wonderful.
What a paradox! Every nerve in my body seemed alive, and I was
hornier than I’d ever been. My soapy hands reached the burning
spot between my legs, and I sighed, rubbing my clit gently,
stroking my desire.
The whole idea of being pregnant was exciting to me. Daryll
liked to stroke my stomach, feeling the baby kick against his
hand. He felt it erotic, our baby, growing inside me. When we
made love, he fancied that made him closer to the baby, his sperm
spreading into my womb where the baby was. I loved it when he
stiffened against me, pouring his seed deep into my belly. It
was yet another way he told me he loved me, and I welcomed him.
I felt it erotic, the baby growing inside me. That our love
had led to this little life, this little person who was part of
me and part of him, made me want to couple with Daryll again and
again. I rubbed my clit harder, feeling the build up, knowing I
would climax soon. But I didn’t want this empty climax. I
wanted to feel Daryll inside me.
Rinsing off quickly, I let the water out, and managed to
work my way out of the tub. Ordinarily, I would have put on
something slinky and danced my way into his pants, but I wasn’t
exactly made for slinky right now. I laughed, resting my hand on
my belly. None of my lingerie would fit over this bump. My
maternity clothes were NOT sexy.
I came upon an idea while drying my hair. Soon I was ready,
feeling very glamorous and beautiful. And Horny! “Hey big boy!”
I said, leaning in the doorway to the den. “Wanna get lucky?”
“Hello, Honey!” he said, jumping up. Excitement glittered
in his eyes. Well, it wasn’t every day his very pregnant wife
adopted a sexy pose in his doorway, completely nude. I reached a
hand up to cup my breast, feeling very wanton and very sexy. The
growing bulge in his pants made it obvious that my chosen outfit
had the effect I wanted.
1
“Am I a lucky man or what?” he asked, pulling me into his
arms. Our baby disliked such tight embraces, apparently doing
its best to push Daddy away by kicking him, but that only
strengthened my desire. Of course, Daryll’s hands squeezing my
ass, had a lot to do with my increasing desire.
I steered him back to the couch, surprising him with this
initiative. Not that I was inclined to be shy, but of late, I
felt too tired to cook, much less seduce him. Given my great
girth, I couldn’t fall gracefully onto the cushions. He had to
help lower me down, which made us both laugh hysterically. “I
guess my Mata Hari days are over,” I joked.
“Oh no!” He buried his face between my breasts, growling
deep in his throat. I jerked as he began to rub my nipples
between his fingers, waves of almost unbearable pleasure
spiraling from his touch. Where the rubbing of the clothing was
annoying, his manipulation only flamed my desire. When his mouth
closed around my nipple, I almost fainted. My body responded,
the first waves of an orgasm spreading through my body.
“Wow,” I said, when I could breathe again. I had heard that
some women could orgasm from nursing. I never thought it would
be me.
Daryll seemed awfully impressed, spreading my legs to check
this out first hand. Forcing his face between my thighs, he
began licking at my pussy, doing his puppy dog routine. Long
licks, loud licks, the kind that made me squirm. His stubbly
cheeks scraped the insides of my thighs, driving me even crazier.
“Oh, Daryll!”
He pulled my legs over his shoulder, driving his tongue up
in my pussy as far as he could. The orgasm this time was
stronger, longer lasting. I had to hold my stomach while I rode
out each wave, the baby not liking to be disturbed by Mommy like
this.
“Aren’t you ready yet?” I asked, moving my legs off his
shoulder so he could stand. I left my legs spread wide; if I was
going to be wanton, I may as well do a good job of it. “I need
you to fuck me.”
“Yes Ma’am.” He dropped his pants, his erection sticking
straight out. While I ordinarily didn’t get excited by the sight
of a man’s penis, I did love to see Daryll’s erection, knowing
that I was the cause of it. “Maybe you should lie on the coffee
table,” he said, eying my big belly. “I think that will work
better.”
I blushed, but I was used to having to make concessions to
my stomach. Of course, laying down made the baby more active,
but I didn’t care. Right now I needed to feel Daryll’s hard
shaft inside me, and would do what I needed to do to get it. He
helped me lie back on the table, kneeling at the end of the table
between my legs. Planting a big kiss on my belly, he slid inside
me.
2
I can never describe the delight I feel when my man enters
me. The need, the itch, if you will, deep inside, is finally
scratched, stroked, but as satisfying as it is, it makes you burn
for more. Each stroke made me crazier; squirming with delight.
Anywhere he touched, my skin burned; the pleasure and desire
spiraling back to where our bodies joined. And when the climax
comes, the satisfaction of having his hardness inside kills the
itch, quenches the need. I feel my body clenching him, pulling
him deep, milking his cock to complete the whole process.
Groaning, calling my name, he collapsed on me, resting his
head on my belly. As though on cue, the baby pushed at his head,
my stomach suddenly distorting before my eyes. “You are some
kind of woman,” he whispered, ignoring the baby.
I smiled; my body finally relaxing. Twisting my hands into
his hair, we lay together; enjoying the way our bodies felt
against one another, the delight of flesh against flesh. The
baby even seemed to quiet down; accepting finally that Mommy had
a life, too. My back even felt good, laying against the hard
table. Closing my eyes; I drifted off to sleep, feeling content.
