by Freya Kane
Trent didn’t say anything else. He pressed his length against my soaking entrance, bumping against my clit, and I reached between us, guiding him inside me.
I groaned at the delicious feeling of fullness as he sheathed himself in my pussy. Trent kept the pace leisurely at first. We’d both come already this morning, so the blinding need to come RIGHT NOW wasn’t there, so we could relax and just enough the slow drag of his cock against my inner walls. My own hips bucked upwards to meet him, the rhythm building steadily between the two of us.
Trent angled his hips just enough to hit that perfect spot inside me. As his cock brushed my G-spot, I dug my nails even harder into his shoulder, and I knew Trent would be wearing those scratched for a few days.
I loved the idea of marking him like that.
Slow and languid started to give way to faster and more frantic as the need built between us.
My release took me by surprise, the pleasure starting all the way at my toes and twisting up my body as I shattered around him, my inner muscles contacting around Trent's cock like a fist as I almost blacked out. A moment later, Trent gasped out my name, and I felt the flood of heat as his seed filled my bare pussy.
Trent tried his best not to collapse on top of me, but both of us were so wrung out that his trembling muscles lost the battle. I pulled him down on top of me, his full weight feeling warm and comforting.
When he finally found the energy to shift his weight off me and flop onto his back, Trent tugged me closer. I curled against his side.
“Perfect,” I murmured against his skin. “It’s not every day a girl gets everything she’s ever wanted.”
I glanced up at Trent, flushing just a bit at my words. Any embarrassment was quickly forgotten when I saw Trent’s beaming face though.
“I can’t wait to fuck a baby into you,” he answered, kissing me sweetly. “I never thought the day I got divorced would be the best day of my life, but it was. All because of you.”
***
That baby Trent wanted to fuck into me? It happened fast.
Trent and I spent the whole summer fucking like bunnies in the apartment, and by the time September rolled around and classes were starting, I realized that one thing was missing.
My period.
My jeans were starting to feel a bit snug around the middle, and my tits were spilling out of my bras. The test I took just confirmed what I already new.
Trent had gotten me pregnant.
Despite the craziness of getting pregnant while I was still in college, I couldn’t help being excited to start a family with Trent. And Trent was absolutely over the moon when he found out.
If anything, Trent’s lust for me tripled once he knew I was pregnant. The hormones surging through my body had me constantly horny to the point where if Trent was too tired or too busy with his class load to fuck me, I’d have to fuck myself on a vibrator until I came a few times so that I could concentrate on my homework.
That didn’t happen often though. Most of the time, Trent was more than happy to drop whatever he was doing and fuck me into oblivion.
Finals were fast approaching, and I was as big as a house already. At eight months pregnant, my belly swelled out like a beach ball in front of me. Even before I’d gotten pregnant, I’d been a D-cup, so my boobs overflowed out of every bra. I’d given up on trying to find one that fit ages ago.
I was on my hands and knees on the bed, my belly and breasts slapping against each other with every hard thrust as Trent fucked me from behind. My grasping pussy clenched at his dick as he reached around my hips, pausing to caress my belly before searching for the hard little button of my clit.
A few rubs had me clenching and writhing in orgasm, but Trent knew that one definitely was not enough for me. He kept stroking, playing my clit like an instrument the pressure just shy of being painful.
“I want to suck on those big, beautiful breasts next,” he growled. “I want to drain them dry.”
I yelped, almost choking as I gulped down oxygen as Trent ripped the second climax out of me.
I was still shaking from my orgasm when Trent pulled out and rolled me over, splaying me flat on my back. Without missing a beat, he plunged his cock back into me while craning his neck downward, lifting one of my breasts to his mouth.
Trent's mouth closed around my nipple, and he sucked. His cock was mostly still, his hips only making slight rocking motions as he suckled my nipples. A strange sensation filled me, a heaviness that I had never experienced before, and Trent pulled back sputtering in surprise.
He lifted his head, and I saw that his lips were smeared with creamy white.
My milk.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “I want more. I want it all.”
Trent took my nipple back into my mouth and sucked harder. The oddness of the sensation as he nursed quickly gave way into pleasure. The shallow little thrusts managed to hit just the right spot inside me.
Trent reached up and grabbed my hand as he switched to my other breast. He brought my hand down to the apex of my thighs to where my clit poked out, shiny and red, between the shaved lips of my pussy.
“Make yourself come,” he murmured against my breast. “I’m not going to last much longer. . . not after this.”
I rubbed my finger in circles around my clit, avoiding actually touching the hungry little bundle of nerves. Trent's lips worked on my nipple insistently, draining my full breasts of every drop as his hips stuttered against mine.
I could feel everything tightening from my nipples to my pussy, and I knew Trent wasn’t the only one who couldn’t hold back much longer. I brushed my fingers over my clit, done with teasing, and I was gone.
The pulses started deep in my pussy, squeezing Trent’s dick like a wet vise until I felt the flood of warm wetness as he came. We both collapsed to the bed, exhausted and wrung out with pleasure, my big belly between us.
So that’s my story. Sometimes you just have to throw away caution and grab your happy ending with both hands. With Trent and a baby on the way, I finally had everything I wanted!
Fertile First Time
by
Freya Kane
I’ve always been a good girl. When I was younger, my parents took care of me and made sure that I'm safe. I'm twenty now and all grown up, but I still respect my elders and obey them.
I’m out of my parent’s house now, and I have a roommate. Even crazier, my roommate is a guy! I expected to be really freaked out by living with a guy, but Michael’s really sweet.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a huge crush on him. And considering that I’m a virgin, I have a LOT of naughty thoughts.
My friends always told me that guys want one thing and one thing only. . . THAT thing. I’ve never let a guy touch me. Sometimes, I’ll see a good looking boy at the store or on TV, and I'll start to feel warm and achy between my legs. I know it's wrong and dirty, but sometimes I'll touch myself down there. I'll put my fingers inside my underwear, and everything is so slippery and wet.
Whenever I’m around Michael though, my pussy is soaking.
I’m not some naïve little girl that doesn’t even know what’s happening to her body. I took all the classes in school, so I know that I’m turned on by looking at the handsome man, and that makes my pussy wet. I know it’s naughty and that my family would say it was sinful to be having nasty thoughts about a man touching me there or even thinking the word pussy, but I can't help myself. Sometimes, I just close my eyes and slip my fingers inside, and it feels so good.
One time I snuck one of those fashion magazines into the house. My family doesn’t like them because they all say they have filthy articles in them about loose women doing bad things. I read an article in that magazine about “The Best Orgasms of your LIFE!” They talked about orgasms feeling like an explosion. I’ve never felt an explosion like that when I touched myself, but I want to. I just don’t want Michael to catch me doing it.
The apartment we live in is a bit rundown, so none
of the doors have locks. I never minded it though, even though Michael grumbles about it all the time. Growing up we weren't allowed to have locks on our doors because my mother always said too much privacy was an invitation to doing dirty things behind closed doors.
Usually, I wait until late at night when I know Michael is asleep to touch myself because of that, but today I saw Michael working in the yard and he had his shirt off. He was sweaty, and his muscles bulged, and I couldn't stop looking.
That warm feeling came over me, and I started to get wet between my legs. I tried to ignore it, but nothing worked. All I could think about was Michael’s strong hands and how much I wanted him to put those hands between my legs. I clenched my thighs together and tried to think about anything else – math, old people, anything that would stop these dirty thoughts from filling my mind but my mind just kept thinking about Michael’s hands and his big, thick fingers and how they might fit inside me.
Finally, it was too much, and I slipped away to my bedroom. I shut my door and sat down on my bed, unzipping my jeans enough to slip my hand inside. My fingers brushed the edge of my pussy lips, and they were so wet. My underwear was absolutely soaked, and I wondered if maybe I might really be able to have an orgasm this time. I felt like a live wire was humming between my legs, and I just wanted to close my eyes and imagine Michael was touching me there.
I laid back on the bed, my fingers stroking my slick flesh. I couldn’t move my hand very much inside my pants, but it was enough to send sparks exploding behind my eyes. I opened my legs a bit wider and tied to angle my hand enough that I could slip a finger inside. My first finger had just breached my opening when I heard the door open.
I sat up quickly and snapped my legs shut, trying to yank my hand out of my pants without Michael seeing. No such luck.
“Katy, what are you doing in here?” Michael asked. He hadn’t put a shirt on yet, and he was standing right above my bed, so close that I could smell the sharp, male musk of him.
“I’m sorry, Michael,” I said, my face flushed red with embarrassment at what he had seen.
Michael’s eyes widened as he realized just what he had walked in on. “Since this was so important, I think you should finish what you were doing.”
“What?” I said, shock filling my voice even as that place between my legs seemed to grow impossibly wetter at the thought.
“I want you to keep on doing what you were doing when I walked in. And you’re not going to stop until I tell you to,” he repeated.
Still blushing, I nodded, “Okay Michael.”
I pushed my hand down the front of my pants again, watching Michael's face as he stared at where my hand disappeared into the denim. My fingers brushed against my sensitive flesh, and I shuddered.
“I think you should take your jeans off, baby,” Michael said, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “No point in doing things halfway.”
Shyly, I pushed down my jeans and pulled them off, leaving me just wearing a pale pink t-shirt and my sensible white panties. I laid back down on my bed, settling myself on my pillow and opening my legs so that Michael could watch.
The crotch of my panties was soaking wet, and there wasn’t anything I could do to hide that.
“You were having some dirty thoughts out there, weren’t you Katy?” Michael said when he noticed. “Your pussy soaked right through those panties.”
“Michael!” I said, almost more shocked at hearing Michael use that word than at what he was asking me to do. “You never say dirty words like that!”
“I don’t want you saying it,” he replied. “I want you touching it.”
Obediently, I pushed my hands down the front of my panties again. It was much easier without the constricting fabric of my jeans. My fingers teased the edge of my lips, and I shivered as I parted them. I heard Michael's breath catch, and I looked up, meeting his eyes as I pressed my index finger inside my most secret place.
Michael’s eyes were fixed on my hand inside my panties, and I looked down at his lap to see a big bulge stretching the front of his jeans. I’ve seen pictures of men’s cocks on the internet before, but I’ve never seen one in person. The only thing I wanted right then was for Michael to unzip his pants and let me see it.
Maybe if I was a very good girl and made Michael happy, he might put it inside me.
I slowly began pumping my finger in and out of my pussy. It was so tight that I wondered how it would even be possible to fit anything bigger in there, but I sure wanted to try.
“How does it feel, sweetie?” Michael asked. His hand was resting on the bulge in his pants, and he slowly began moving it back and forth, rubbing himself through his jeans.
“Good, Michael," I answered. "It's so tight, Michael. Tight and wet.”
Michael groaned loudly, and I knew he had liked what I said. I watched with wide eyes as he unzipped his jeans and huge cock popped out. It was long and thick and very very hard. The head of it was shaped like a mushroom and darker than the rest of it. Michael wrapped his and around it and started to move his hand.
“Take off your panties,” Michael said, his voice sounding strained. “I want to look at your pussy.”
My body liked what he said. My pussy muscles squeezed my fingers tightly, fluttering around my finger at Michael’s words. “Okay Michael,” I agreed. Slowly, I pushed my panties down my thighs and over my knees, pulling them off my feet and dropping them on the floor.
I clenched my legs together, overcome with shyness at having another man looking at me like this, especially with the bright sunshine streaming in through my bedroom window.
I stole a glance at Michael, and he was staring at me like I was a piece of birthday cake and he couldn't wait to lick my frosting. His hand was pumping up and down on his thick organ, and I wanted to make him happy, so I decided to do what he would want without waiting for him to ask.
I opened up my legs.
Michael groaned, a low, needy sound in his throat, and he shifted closer to me on the bed. His free hand found its way to my thigh, and it rested there, rough and hot and so very close to my secret place.
“Michael,” I said, hardly recognizing the weak, breathy sound of my voice. “I want you to touch me there. In my p-pussy.” I stumbled over the word, surprising myself at my boldness.
Michael didn't hesitate. His hand moved those last few inches, and one of his thick fingers was tracing the seam of my lips before parting them. His finger paused at my opening before dipping inside the slick hole, teasingly penetrating me with just the tip of his finger before pulling back.
“You’re so tight,” he said, easing his finger in deeper and stretching my tight muscles. I cried out as his thick finger stretched me open. The knuckles of his hand brushed the spread lips of my pussy and then Michael pulled his finger almost the whole way out of me before burying it back in.
A dark, nasty part of my mind whispered that this was what fucking feels like. Michael was fucking my pussy with his big finger, and it felt so good that I wanted him to add another.
As if he could read my mind, Michael added a second finger and started moving them apart like a pair of scissors inside me, stretching me so that he could fit other, much bigger things inside me.
Michael’s thumb started rubbing a spot on me, right above my opening. It was a little nub that made me shake and quiver whenever I touched it. When Michael’s thumb pressed against that spot, I arched up off the bed, my hips bucking against his hand and driving those two fingers even deeper into me.
Michael chuckled at my reaction. “Liked that, did you?”
I nodded, too overcome with the feelings coursing through my body to speak.
“You've never come before, have you?” Michael asked. I shook my head, and Michael pressed harder against that perfect spot. “I’m going to make you come, and then you can do something for me if you want to, okay?”
“Yes, Michael!" I sobbed, the pleasure between my legs reaching a boiling point. The pressure was building up i
nside me, and I could feel my body reaching for something that I didn't understand. Michael's hand kept moving, and his thumb kept touching that little button and then it happened.
It was like a giant wave of water crashed over me. My whole body got tense, and then I started shaking and quivering. My insides squeezed Michael’s fingers. A gush of wetness poured out of me, making Michael’s hand even more slippery, and all I could do was lay back and let the incredible feelings wash over me.
When I was finally finished, Michael pulled his fingers out of me. I whimpered when he did because I didn’t like how empty my pussy felt without part of him inside it. As the fog in my mind slowly cleared, I remember that Michael had asked me to do something for him. I couldn’t wait to see what.
