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The Seventh Month

This is a continuation of Wonderful Things Happen in Golden Gate Park.

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It had been a few months since my first encounter with Mehry. She’d had to go on what sounded like a pretty nice business trip, up to Calistoga. We had seen each other four times before that, each encounter another intense meeting, deeply satisfying, her pregnancy hormones lifting her libido to lifetime heights. We had texted and talked while she was away, keeping up our line of communication and interest, but it had mostly been non-sexual, more about California, San Francisco, and our mutual interests than the fact that we had such an amazing sexual connection.

I was not prepared, though, for how strongly her changing body would strike me when I saw her again. A few days after she got back to San Francisco, she texted me to say that she’d love to see me. We decided to simply meet at her apartment. The morning of our meeting, I was feeling a warm, confident glow of excitement; she and I had gotten along so easily, had such a fine chemistry, I wasn’t nervous, just anticipating. I threw my energy into a workout to keep my mind occupied until the evening.

A few hours before when we’d arranged to meet, she texted me to ask if I would mind picking her up some groceries on my way over. The domesticity of it made me smile to myself, made me feel like a provider for her. I went to Bi-Rite, and selected the variety of heirloom tomatoes, fresh fruits, croissants, and New Zealand butter she’d requested, being careful to get exactly what she’d asked for.

She buzzed me up into her building, and I mounted the steps two at a time. She’d told me to just come in; I did, calling out a hello as I went to the kitchen and deposited the bags of groceries. Her apartment was light and airy, but a few additions had popped up since last time–many books about healthy babies, about child-rearing. A selection of adorable baby clothes was lying on the kitchen table.

“Hey there,” she said, from the doorway behind me. I turned around, and she laughed at the expression on my face as I took her in. Last time I had seen her, she had been just three months pregnant; the curve of her belly had seemed wondrous then, but now it was amazing, awe-inspiring. It was the focal point of her body, an amazing, rounded dome, a temple of femininity. The weight of it had changed her stance, she stood with legs apart a bit more, her hips forward to balance it, but she looked so graceful, in control of the forces of her body. It seemed no burden on her but instead the very center of her, from which the rest of her was poised.

She was suffused with a warm feminine radiance. Her face was calm, her light brown eyes dancing with amusement as I unabashedly just looked her over. Her hair had changed a bit, gotten even curlier, and her skin looked lustrous, her deep olive skin glowing with life. She was wearing leggings that came up to support her belly, and a simple crop-top along with it. The clothing was not at all sexualized, and yet it did everything to emphasize her pregnancy, the leggings curving up and around her belly, the top pushed out by her breasts that seemed even more plentiful and prepared than last time I had seen her.

I finally spoke, having no idea how long I’d simply been letting my eyes wander her curves. “Mehry, you look absolutely amazing, and it’s so great to be in your presence again.” She smiled deeply, and I stepped forward to embrace her. Her belly was the first part of her to contact me, as I leaned over her to gather her in my arms and kiss her. It was electric, just like before, nothing had been lost in the time apart. Her own hands went to my back, squeezed the muscles there, her fingers fluttering on me as we broke the kiss and she sighed deeply. We spent a while like that, in each other’s embrace, letting the feeling of the moment reconnect us. We kissed again, more playfully; she smiled as I kissed her, and I loved that feeling, her happy lips smirking with mine on them. The firmness of her pregnant belly told me she was completely a woman, but she was so girlishly giddy in that moment, too. So much of her feminine self on display.

She moved a hand up to the back of my head and dug her fingers through my hair, pulling me in for a harder kiss. She grabbed the front of my shirt, hanging off me a bit, and my arms tightened protectively around her. Instinctively, I moved them down to her ass, and she rose on tiptoe into our kiss. I kept as much of her weight in my arms as I could, helping her feel light. She rocked back from foot to foot, her belly nuzzling into me. She released the kiss at last, giving my lower lip a little bite-and-tug on the way down, grinning. “My hormones haven’t diminished at all, you’ll notice,” she said dryly. “I was hoping” I responded, burying my face in her hair and rocking her against me. Her ass felt so good in my hands, the weight of her body pressing the taut softness of her into my grip.

We span back and forth between intensely making out like that and just holding each other, breathing together, hyperaware of each other’s bodies. The late afternoon sunlight rested on her beautiful face, making her brown eyes limpid and light. Then she said, with slight alarm, “Oh damn, the groceries!” We laughed, broke the embrace, and I hurriedly hauled the only-slightly-melting ice cream–she commandeered it before I could get it to the freezer, and sat on a stool and watched me put away her groceries as she helped herself to several large spoonfuls. Then she put the lid back on and gave it to me, “Thank you for getting those, by the way.”

I smiled, “No problem, I was so eager to see you; you could have asked for a lot more.” She put her arm around my waist and said, “You brought me everything I wanted.” That led to another kiss, but before we could lock into another makeout session, she said “Bedroom. I’ve stood about as long as I want for now.” She led the way to her spacious bedroom. Seeing her climb on the bed filled me with a tender lust; lifting her thigh and putting her belly on the mattress and half-rolling on. She lay on her back as I started to join her, but she shook her head and said, “Far too many clothes. Naked men only.” As she hooked her fingers into her leggings and began to peel them off, I shed my own clothes.

Seeing her pregnant belly revealed was like another seal being broken, another step further into some secret unknown to me before now. It was round, but shaped more intricately than that, a clearly natural phenomenon, with curves so sweet and ideal that no artist could have envisioned them. Her olive skin was lighter over the expanse of the swell of her. She spread her legs, her fingers pushing back on her thighs. She looked so incredible, her pussy revealed to me like that, naked, open, below the wondrous fullness of her pregnancy. The obvious relationship, the cause-and-effect. She’d been fucked thoroughly, and now was amazingly pregnant. I crawled onto the bed with her, kissing her spread thighs, kissing her belly, looking up into her eyes as I slowly moved my mouth across the feminine landscape of her. She put her hand in my hair and sighed, arching her hips just a bit more. I kissed my way down the curve of her belly, turning my head as I sought her pussy with my mouth. She tilted her hips just a bit more, putting her own hands on her belly and helping to pull it slightly up.

I slowly licked her pussylips open, my tongue broad against them, lavishing pleasure onto her. A slow pace of entrance, marked by moments when her thighs shook or, with a small, beautifully wet sound, her pussylips parted just a bit more. I slipped the tip of my tongue into her, feeling the incredible array of textures, then lapped up to her clit. I remembered her so well, what motions she loved, the intensity of tongue-tapping on her clit that would send her hands grasping at the sheets. The press of her belly down on me was a difference, but it was still so much her, my familiar lover, and the amount I’d missed her poured forth in the attention I showed to her pussy with my lips and tongue.

The sounds she made came from deep down in her body, moans and long sighs and half-uttered words. Her tights tightened around me and then spread far apart again, first one hand, then the other then both held my head against her. When she began to rock against me I knew the signs of that, and put my hands on her thighs and pressed the way she liked to feel, and tongued humming-bird quick against her clit. Her orgasm came sharply, her fingers suddenly twisting in my hair, her breath caught her throat in a shuddering breath-moan. I let my tongue stay pressed against her as she rolled her hips in the climb-down of the orgasm.

Kissing her after that was one gentle moment followed by her opening her mouth to welcome my tongue in, tasting herself on me. I was lying to one side of her, my arm draped over her belly, and she put her hand down between her legs as we kissed, her arousal not dipping in the least in the wake of the orgasm. Her hand found my cock, wrapped around it, and pulled a few times. “I need this, now,” she said.

I had a moment of hesitation. I hadn’t fucked a woman as pregnant as this before, and it didn’t seem right to just lie on top of her. She solved the problem by rolling onto her hands and knees. Her belly brushed the sheets, and I ran my hand down the slope of her back to her ass as I got behind her. Even from this position, I could see the dimensions of her pregnancy.

“God, you look so fucking beautiful,” I said, as I grabbed handfuls of her ass and spread her open. Her head fell forwards just a bit more as I moved my hips and the head of my cock brushed up against her pussylips. Another little movement brought it to her entrance, and I sank it in, the lips spreading silkily for me. My breath hissed out at the exquisite pleasure of that moment, that first reconnection, the knowledge that I was entering her. I gave her a steading moment, and then began to rock my hips slowly, each circle of them pushing just a bit deeper into her. The noises she made rose and fell with each thrust. I walked my hands up her back, smoothing them over her shoulders and gripping there as I got deeper into her. She turned her head, hair falling around her face, and looked back at me. “I feel so fucking full of you right now,” she said, and bit her lip as I pulled back almost to her entrance and then slowly, meaningfully pushed balls-deep into her again. And again. We kept our eyes fixed on each other while my fingers dug into the muscles of her shoulders and I took her pussy, over and over.

She put one shoulder down on the bed, curling an arm under herself to her pussy. I put one hand down under her belly, half-supporting, half just wanting to be holding her by that, by her pregnant self, as I fucked her. She nodded, “Keep doing that, keep hitting that spot and I’m going to cum for you.” I locked in to that exact stroke that she wanted, my body honed and concentrated just to fuck her, to give her this cock that she needed so much. As her orgasm started to approach, as I saw her face transform, I again felt this insane feeling that I was the one that had bred her, that fucking her pregnant like this claimed her in the same way.

“Yes… fuck yes!” She shouted, her face somewhat muffled by the pillow, and her body shook once and then strained; I felt her pussy spasm around my cock, almost trapping it; knowing how much she loved it, and needing it myself, I fucked her through the orgasm, changing her words to helpless, wordless yelps and cries of fulfillment. After she quieted, I slowed, leaned over her to kiss her neck. She rebounded quickly, turning on her side and telling me, “Get on your back.” I got in position, and she pushed herself up with effort and determination, before I could move to help her. She swung her thigh over me, and my hands instinctively went up to her belly, supporting it as she grabbed my cock and positioned it under her, and sank down on it with a contented sigh.

Her thighs gripped my sides as she began to rise and fall on me. The feeling of it was powerful, but the sight of it was so much more. Her proud body on mine, the extended pregnancy belly in my hands, her full breasts above that, looking queenly, goddess, fertile, a mother to be and an undeniable woman. She took my hands and moved them up to her breasts, and I tugged on her fat nipples and made her close her eyes in sublime pleasure, throwing her head back. Her belly dominated the space between us and yet there was so much more to her.

Her eyes rolled and I moved my hands back down to her belly and waist to support her as she came. Her body was a little loose in my grip, but her thighs stayed steady. She shivered, “That was a wonderful one. It shook me up inside.” She returned to riding me, now pushing down hard, rocking her hips back and forth with my cock buried all the way in her. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed, and I encouraged her, pressing up into her, ‘Again, sweet girl. Come again for me. You’ve needed it. You look so fucking incredible. I love fucking your pregnant pussy.”

As my words sank in the orgasm ripped through her, arching her back, a sweet peal of vulnerable, beautiful song coming from her throat. It was such a moment of unalloyed sexual beauty that without any warning I was coming in her, my cock a wild, pumping thing inside her, cum flooding her pussy, the two of us sealed so tightly together. Our orgasms overlapped, fed into each other, energy pouring into each other’s bodies.

As our breathing slowed, I brought my knees up behind her to help support her. She leaned there for a long moment, gathering herself, and then slowly slipped off my cock. Her glow was brighter than ever, her hair wild, eyes dancing. She lay down next to me, and I blew hair out of her face and kissed her. She felt hot to the touch, a beacon of human warmth. Even though I’d just come so hard, my arousal was still present in me, and I was staggered with how good her body felt against me, how pleasurable it was to have as much of my skin in contact with her as it was. We began to drift, and I knew that on waking, there would be more. There needed to be more.

NSFW: yes

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