Joely had warned her of course about how rotten she could expect to feel, but the experience of late term pregnancy was something Kirsten had found both easier and far more trying than she had ever imagined.
From the weekly visits to the OB — though much easier considering Tom had now taken over her care — to the way even complete strangers would invade her personal space, touching her belly as if it were public property, without even asking permission, Kirsten sometimes wondered if her body had somehow ceased to be hers, as if she were simply along for the ride now, more than ever feeling less like the center of attention, and more like the vessel that was about to produce the
real
center of attention. At times, she struggled with indignance, with frustration, with a guilt that somehow those feelings might make her selfish.
Mostly though, she was just tired. A
lot.
But Keihl. Her Keihl.
Even on the rare occasions when she wanted to knock his block off, he always seemed to have that internal compass oriented toward her, toward what she needed, toward what would actually help her — even if she didn’t know herself at the time. Somehow, he just
knew
. Kirsten fought against the growing fear of losing control, her struggles increasingly futile as she grew larger, even more ungainly. Yet Keihl was always there, unwavering in his support, his love, his understanding.
And, most of all, never failing to show her the sweet release in another kind of helplessness, in the freedom of surrender.
It only drew her closer to him, deepened her love for her husband.
However, that love — and that ever simmering lust — could sometimes make things… a little complicated.
She was still deeply attracted to him, despite the cautions she’d read that indicated sexual desire could sometimes wane in late stage pregnancy. No, for her, that was never a problem. She still wanted him to make love to her, to fuck her in whatever way he liked — or whatever way her body would allow.
Though she wasn’t
quite
the bitch in heat she’d thought of herself during the second trimester, she still wanted her husband’s cock. All the time. But she was so far along, that even the thought of sex was beginning to exhaust her.
They’d adapted though.
After each weekly check-up, they’d asked about it. Kirsten no longer blushed at Keihl’s blunt, possessive inquiries about the safety of continuing to fuck his pregnant wife. And each time, Tom had advised them to keep having sex, but that they should try to lower the intensity just a bit.
Kirsten used to like being on top, but having her cervix repeatedly struck in that position, had lost some of the appeal with her newfound sensitivity. Before her pregnancy, having her cervix touched was something she enjoyed. Keihl had discovered long ago that she was sometimes able to orgasm from cervical stimulation alone. Now though, in late stage pregnancy, the sensation was just too intense.
It was just as well, as Tom had gently advised them against cervical stimulation — for obvious reasons — instead assuring the both of them that regular intercourse was safe all the way up to the due date, as long as things didn’t get too crazy.
Her belly was so large that the only two positions she could really enjoy were doggy style, or with him from behind as she lay on her side.
She honestly felt like a landed whale when she’d lay on her side, but the intimacy of that position was like no other, his long, thick cock, so impossibly hard, sliding up into her as he gently stroked the taut roundness of her pregnant belly. It almost made her cry, it felt so good, so
right.
When Keihl took her now, she felt so completely owned, cared for, cherished.
His, in all ways.
The fact that they had created a child together, someone to share their lives with. Oh God, life couldn’t possibly be this wonderful! She knew she was blessed, doing what she was meant to do. Being with the man she was meant to be with. He was made for her, and she for him.
Then there were the times she still felt that dark lust take her over, and there seemed nothing that was too intense, too degrading, too objectifying for her. It was as if she’d fallen into a deep well of submission, and rather than try to scramble for the top, she just dove deeper. In so many ways, she knew they’d only begun exploring themselves, what they could be to each other, and what their future might hold.
Together.
Somehow, her pregnancy, her vulnerability, had enhanced the intimacy of sex in a way she couldn’t even express in words, the emotion of the act now even more profound, the strong arms of her husband around her as they became even closer.
Once again, now more than ever.
One
.
* * *
H
e thought Kirsten was asleep until he heard her soft, sleepy whimper. Poor girl. It wasn’t the first time she’d nodded off in his arms. She couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position to sleep in, so often he’d hold her, pulling her up to lay back against his chest, just as she was doing at that very moment.
She murmured something as he stroked his fingers through her hair, luxuriating in the feel of her soft tresses gliding over his skin.
“You’re going to miss that, aren’t you?” Her voice was thick with fatigue.
“Miss what?”
“My hair.”
“It’s not falling out when the baby comes is it?” He smiled against her hair. “That would be a shame…”
Kirsten laughed, the sound attenuated by exhaustion.
Keihl lowered a hand to the swell of her breast, circling a palm over the hard nipple. Kirsten sucked a breath through her teeth.
“Too much?” He couldn’t resist her breasts, especially now, but he was always worried about hurting her.
“No… not too much.” She wiggled her hips against his genitals. “Too good.”
“Poor, Kirsten,” he murmured into her hair with a grin.
“You’ll have to enjoy those while you can too.”
He took a nipple between thumb and forefinger, squeezing and rolling it slowly. Kirsten hissed, her body shuddering.
“God…”
“You were saying, girl?”
He loved distracting her that way, something both intimate and devastatingly effective. He’d already taken her before bed, but as she wiggled her bottom against his hardening cock once more, he suspected he’d need her again soon.
Or you could, you know, let your wife sleep.
“Once the baby’s weaned, I don’t even want to
think
about what’s going to happen to my boobs.”
“Oh?”
He had a pretty good idea what was going to happen to her boobs. It involved his mouth, his hands, and his cock. Not necessarily in that order, either.
“Probably going to dry up like raisins.”
“Joely’s didn’t, did they?”
“You aren’t supposed to notice things like that.”
Keihl snorted. “Asking men not to notice boobs is like asking gravity to stop working.”
“Pig,” she said, giving his forearm a playful slap. “Hers didn’t — but she’s some kind of freak. Her sister though? She was a D cup before her pregnancy — and after nursing? A.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m serious, Keihl. She joked that she was back to training bras at age thirty.”
“I guess that just means she needs to have another—”
Kirsten stiffened then, and she laid a hand over the crest of her belly.
“Another one?”
“Yeah,” she said, a strained note in her voice.
“How far apart are they?”
Tom had told them anything close to five minutes apart and regular, and it meant things could be changing from Braxton-Hicks to the real deal. Every time Kirsten had the odd contraction, it almost made his heart stop.
Some tough guy you are, right?
“I had one this afternoon, but it wasn’t as strong as this one.”
Rubbing his eyes, Keihl reached over and looked at his phone. “1:34. Christ, that late? We’ll time just in case.”
“It’s not it.”
“You don’t know that. Tom said you could come any day now.”
Kirsten sighed. “That just means if the baby comes now, she’s considered full term. The due date’s not for another week.”
“Oh.” Keihl held the back of his hand to her lips and she kissed it. It comforted the both of them, and he still couldn’t figure out why. “Guess that explains why Linda and William decided a cruise made sense two weeks from your due date?”
He swore he could
hear
the eye-rolling in Kirsten’s voice.
“She swears that
all
the women in our family are late. Every time. God knows, Mom’s always right.”
Keihl remembered William suggesting they nix the trip, but his strong-willed wife would have none of it. Said it would be bad luck if they canceled it. At the time, Keihl couldn’t tell if that news had exasperated Kirsten or hurt her. He suspected it might be a little of both, but he knew Kirsten would rather die than let on to that fact. It was such an unusual dynamic — both women loved each other to death, that was obvious, yet both seemed to go to inordinate lengths to downplay that fact.
He’d always thought that was something only men did.
With each passing minute though, the tension in their bodies lessened, until finally she craned her head, looking back at him. “You still awake?”
“Long as you are. Nothing?”
“Nope.” She leaned her head against his chest once more, slowly stroking her belly. “False alarm again. Now, what were you going to say?”
“About what?”
“Joely’s sister.”
He paused, then smiled. “Oh, I was gonna say — guess that means she just needs to have another kid. Boobs will be back to normal, right?”
Kirsten giggled. “You don’t get pregnant to get your breasts back, Keihl.”
“I wonder if her husband would agree with that.”
“Puh-lease.”
He took both of Kirsten’s heavy breasts in his hands, loving the way her breath caught as he lifted the weight of both soft globes.
“You’re not going to have to worry about that though.”
“You… how do you know that?”
“You just won’t stop nursing.”
She froze. “Um, how would… you’re serious?”
Keihl grinned, nuzzling her hair, giving her breasts a gentle squeeze that drew a soft sigh from her lips.
“Of course, I’m serious. I’m not one of those idiot guys who thinks lactation is gross.”
Keihl wasn’t sure he’d really be comfortable telling her just how much the subject fascinated him — and aroused him.
“Keihl, there’s a big difference between not thinking it’s gross… and
that
.”
“
That?
Whatever do you mean, light of my life?”
He was enjoying this.
“You’d really make me… keep going?”
“Hell yes. I’m seriously considering it, anyway.”
The idea of commanding it of her spoke to him on a primal, male level, the appeal of it something he felt deep in his core, something he couldn’t — and didn’t need to — fully understand. All he needed to know was that it felt right. She was
his
, all of her, and it would reinforce that fact to her like nothing else.
“My God, I’ve created a monster,” she said, her voice soft.
“You have no idea, Kirsten.” He leaned close, whispering at her ear. “I think I’ll like you like this. Whether the baby still needs it or not, I think I’m going to make you keep them going.”
“Keihl.”
“Is that a no?”
“God…”
Her body gave lie to the embarrassment in her voice, her mischievous hips grinding against him again. He was hard and throbbing within seconds, the shaft of his cock nestling between the coolness of her lush buttocks.
Some part of her wasn’t repulsed by the idea at all, embarrassment or not.
“Keep that up and you’re gonna get another fucking, woman.”
She made a soft sound deep in her throat, reaching back to stroke his cheek. “Promise, or a threat?”
“You’re about to find out, unless you knock it off. You’re too tired for this.”
“That’s not what he thinks.” She squeezed her bottom around his penis. “Oh no, he’s not tired at all.”
He turned her in his arms, bringing his lips to hers.
“Evil woman.”
* * *
T
hankfully she was still asleep when he woke up, slipping from the sheets, cursing softly under his breath at the chill in the room. Icy rain poured against the windows, the sky an angry gray.
Breakfast.
He loved cooking for her now, especially since she’d decided she didn’t have to really worry too much about what she ate — or how much of it. Eggs, bacon and toast would do the trick nicely.
The mouthwatering aroma of sizzling bacon filled the kitchen as he worked. Finally, he heard the floor creak upstairs.