You’re gonna fuck me to death.
The kitchen is steaming hot. Plump, bouncy tits . Juicy ass, up in the air. Round hips I’ve been grabbing onto three, sometimes, five times a day. There’s nary a more beautiful sight than my pregnant fiancée’s nude silhouette. Even if it’s back lit by the glow of the refrigerator bulb, and she’s shooting canned whipped cream down the back of her throat for going on three straight minutes now.
“Watch out, Bluebell, you’re gonna drown in that stuff.”
Callie jump turns, holding the can like mace, and screams out white foam. “Argh, fuck! Jesus, Hot Cock. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Shh. Don’t call me that. The neighbors might hear.” I get real close and kiss a dollop of cream off her lip. “Hungry?”
“These fetuses are eating me alive.” She whimpers and lays her sticky cheek on my chest. “I’m like a human garbage disposal. I’ll never be satiated again. Never. I can’t get enough food.”
My smile creeps up. “Or sex.”
No lie. She’s been attacking me, literally attacking me every time I step foot in the same vicinity. And she hates when I use the term “literally” and don’t mean it. I mean it.
Last night, she roped me to a chair and bounced up and down on me until she was covered in sweat and came twice.
I’ve never been so turned on. Nor as scared.
Since I knocked her up with our twins, her sex drive is driving me insane. My dick literally aches. Mostly cause she’s got it in a death grip on it as we speak.
“I need you.”
My member rises to the occasion, regardless of its fatigue. “Again? It’s only been forty minutes.”
“Quit complaining and assume the position.” She shoots whipped cream in her hand and lathers me up.
I laugh. “Oh, that’s nice. Real nice.” I dip my head back and enjoy the delicious pulse of my hardening cock—slick and sticky—in her fist.
“Stop looking at me with those lusty peacock eyes and adorable dimples, or I’m going to have to eat you.”
I raise a brow and slide my finger along her wet, swollen slit. “That’s not a bad idea—”
Her lips are on me before I say another word.
“Good lord, woman, you are…oh, damn…you are ravaging me. Oh yeah, right there. Lick it right under the head, that’s it. Oh fuck, maybe I should get on the floor, so you don’t hurt your knees—” I can’t seem to pull out of her mouth.
Mouth stuck to me like a Hoover, she backs me up to the counter and then pulls up a barstool and sits in it. All whilst sucking me like a champ. “That’s it, baby, take a load off.”
I take hold of those amazingly red pregnant nipples and tweak them until she moans around me.
She nods up at me, her big crystalline eyes savage with need.
“Make sure you get all that whipped cream off.” I pump a couple times in her mouth. “I don’t want to get any that spray can shit near my babies. I want my pussy preservative-free.”
Her glossy, wet mouth opens with a pop. “For the love of Christ, I can’t deal with your lame jokes right now. I’m dying of lust. I think I’m going to come just by you touching my nipples.” She grips her tits and feeds one into my mouth. “Please.”
I run my tongue over her tight buds and slide a finger inside her. “They hurt, baby?”
She grunts. “That’s it! I can’t wait another second.” Hands flat on the counter, she backs her ass in the air. “Get inside me. I want dirty talk, and lots of hard core, quadruple X-rated thrusting—”
“We talked about that. You know I’m not comfortable with rough sex when my boys are in there.”
“Get that big cock inside me. And they’re girls not boys. I want rough, filthy sex, Mr. Rhodes.” She’s gritting her teeth. “And you better give it to me good. I mean it.” She shakes her ass at me. “Put it inside me.”
Once again, I’m a little unnerved. But also, I love ass-slapping sex with her. Hell, I love everything about her. And so…
“Thank God!” she cries and basically fucks herself with my dick.
I’m telling you, she’s in heat times three. Never been so sopping wet. Never been so swollen. Never been so quick to get off. Her clit is raging hard under my fingertips. She’s even begging me to shove a finger in her asshole. That never happens. That territory is usually forbidden. But she wants everything dirty. Right. Super hard. All the fucking time. Pregnancy hormones are going to be the death of me.
She grabs the whipped cream off the counter, still gripping me tight with her insatiable pussy, and shoots more whipped cream in her mouth. Then she grabs me by the back of the neck and tongue fucks me with sticky sweetness. Hot cream. I spank her pussy a little.
Her legs tremble in response. “Faster. Harder.”
“This is as hard as it gets Mrs. Rhodes.”
She reaches backwards and grips my ass cheeks with both hands. “Fuck me hard.”
“Fine. If you want me to kill our children.” I plow into her. Punching our kids.
There it is. Her tight quivering cunt, oh so beautifully sucking me into her lush heat.
A scream accompanies her orgasm. “I four skillet you, Mr. Rhodes!”
And while she tells me she’s euphorically in love with me in my version of Norwegian slang, I jet out what little come I have left after her thrice-daily rampages.
Afterward, we’re all sticky and sweaty and smelling like sex. “Think you’ll be able to sleep now?”
She’s limp across the counter. “For an hour or so. Until I get hungry again.”
“I’m gonna lock myself in the green house.”
“I will kill you.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. You’re gonna fuck me to death.”
Her body slides forward, and my cock slides out, and her tongue slides back in my mouth. “Better enjoy it. Once these monsters come out of me, I probably won’t have sex with you ever again.”
All of a sudden I feel like crying. “Really?”
I chew on my lip. “Ah, hell, Bluebell. You’re not gonna let me sleep tonight, are you?”
She takes my hand and leads me to bed. “Probably, not.”