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The Pregnant Girl The Pregnant Girl Even with her breasts pulled heavily
down, her cleavage aroused me. Her dress was too short, her sauntering walk in
the August heat too inviting for a mother. When we were finally alone, I told
her I'd never seen a pregnant lady naked. 'I would feel so much better that
way...it's so hot...', she responded; so we both worked to peel off the
awkward clothes. Her breasts, no longer restrained, hung full, almost touching
the swollen belly. Her nipples were dark and very large, and grew instantly
erect when the cool air touched her perspiration. I touched one of them.
'They're so sensitive..', she invited, and I tasted it gently. We fell on the
couch. When I touched her thigh, she lifted her leg. Her pussy was dripping.
She had an almost perverse fascination for her sex parts. She told me how she
likes to watch herself masturbating in a large mirror, and how it arouses her
to watch the contractions of her vagina and anus when she cums. That, she
explained, was how she had gotten pregnant: alone one day, she had decided to
spend it with herself and her clitoris. She had relaxed all day, and then
unplugged her phone and taken a very hot leisurely bath. The steaming water
made her feel she was in a different world, floating warm and safe, far from
reality. She titillated herself with delicate strokes of her fingertips across
her nipples and her belly as she shaved her underarms, her legs, and all of
her pubic hair. She liked to see herself as naked as she could, and so
regularly shaved herself as completely as possible, even becoming quite expert
at the area around her anus, which she could manage only by touch. When the
water began to cool she had toweled off, slowly massaged body oil into as much
of herself as she could reach, coated her vaginal and anal area liberally with
heavy oil, wiped her hands and spent some time brushing out her hair. She lay
back on a stack of pillows on her bed, facing a large mirror, with a large
drink. She had a lamp that cast a spotlight on the area between her legs,
warming it as well. The bath and the oil made her skin feel very soft and
sensitive, and the steady drone of the air conditioner blotted out all noise.
Usually when she masturbated she would fantasize, but now she felt comfortable
with herself, and wanted to feel her own fingers stroking the silky smooth
outer lips of her vagina slowly up and down, pressing a bit on each trip as
they passed over her clitoris. Presently in the mirror she saw the lips begin
to pout and then to part slightly. Her loins began to tingle and she could
feel herself lubricating. She propped her head with the pillows so she could
relax completely while watching the source of the pleasure she was feeling.
She paused to squeeze one of her nipples very hard, and noticed the subtle
movement of her vagina that accompanied the throb she felt. She did it again,
and a droplet of her moisture began to trail down toward the pink of her naked
anus. She pulled the lips apart with both hands, causing her erect clit to
stand out, throbbing visibly as she tugged. She began to stroke and squeeze
the area just above her clitoris very gently, rewarded with one throb for each
stroke. She watched her inner lips begin to swell and pout. The trail of
moisture had reached the entrance to her anus; she took pride in the quantity
of liquid she was generating. Now, with a dollop of Vaseline on her middle
finger she began to rub back and forth across the upper part of her clit,
pressing more firmly as she became more aroused. She lay her head back,
luxuriating in the comfort as the tingle grew in her loins, welling stronger,
until her vagina had begun to blossom open in the crescendo before orgasm.
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spasmed hard in one of those cums that left her still tingling, letting
herself down still rubbing slowly, holding one of her soft breasts in her
other hand. The need was still there, and soon she had her vibrator pressing
next to her clit, bringing her toward another climax, and then another. She
worked on herself until she felt drugged, lethargic after hours of
masturbating and many orgasms. When one of the local boys had walked in
unannounced, she hadn't even tried to stop him. Now, she felt at peace,
languid on warm summer days, and the small movements within would comfort her.
Sometimes on a weekend she spent all day in gentle orgasms. In the morning, we
would eat without ever getting dressed, her swelling belly almost resting on
her thighs. She ate slowly, tasting every mouthful; then we would lay
together, touching, kissing, teasing our bodies and slowly making love. Once
she started, it took only warm words and gentle pressure on her clitoris to
produce several throbs. She lay on the couch listening to the stereo while I
worked, stroking herself to the slow music. Sometimes I just sat and watched
her lovely nude vagina and anus, squeezing every so often to her touches. I'd
come by, lean over and kiss her to a few throbs, and she would take my penis
in her mouth to run her tongue around the head until it began to swell. She
just lay in her juices; it would crust her buns, and when I came, my semen
stayed where it landed in a trickle down her chin and neck as she swallowed.
In the evening I brought dinner to her. Eating reminded us of the delicious
things we'd tasted, and after eating she continued her mild orgasms. They were
heavy, lazy, and her nipples barely showed the erection of her earlier
orgasms. After dark, I finished the chores while I watched her slowly press a
dildo at her pussy until it was swallowed completely. I could see her contract
on it as she eased it in, and my penis was again aroused. I stood over her to
have it sucked full hard while she pushed the dildo with her heel, her hips
slowly heaving. The climax of our climaxes was a long, slow lovemaking. We'd
get comfortable and I'd slide into the wet and tired pussy in place of the
rubber surrogate. As we rocked together, she would squeeze one of her nipples
and one of mine, and I would do the same. Our identity had so merged that the
distinction had blurred between making love and masturbating. We were lying on
our sides, so she was able to take the lower breast in both hands. She
squeezed the puffed aureole with her thumbs and a squirt of milk ran over her
hand. As she shifted more to her back to lick it from her hand I leaned
forward to suck the swollen nipple. A small quantity of milk flowed, and it
made her hotter. "The other", she whispered, and I repeated what had been
done, tasting her warm, somehow familiar milk. Now she began to milk the
breast in earnest, pulling with both hands. Hot streams of milk washed my
chest, and I could feel her pussy contract on me as her hands urged milk from
the nipple. Timing my thrusts to her tit-milking, we brought her to the brink,
and held her there for many seconds. With wide eyes, she pressed her clit to
me, using me to stimulate herself when needed, holding the cum just on the
edge as her vagina slowly expanded in the wind-up before orgasm. When finally
it contracted on my penis my orgasm was triggered, sending hot streams of
semen to mix with her juices and leaving us with eyes closed, wallowing in a
mixture of our secretions, feeling one another's fading throbs as she pressed
her belly and breasts to me, holding me tightly in her arms. Go back to A Sex
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