Fucked prego
GRETA’S ITCH
Greta spent most of her mornings behind her desk, dutifully working.
She was a Dutch girl from Utrecht, and she took her job pretty seriously. But every now and then she clicked over to a Dutch women’s forum to read up on other women and their bumps. Most of the topics were standard - about hormones and the nesting instinct - but one caught her eye.
‘Does your pregnancy make you insatiable?’it read in Dutch. She went on to explore the list and read the testimonies of many different Dutch women who found themselves not only with morning sickness in the first trimester, but craving physical attention from their husbands.
Though she would blush to admit it to anyone in the office, these women were right. She had never felt (or it seemed looked) as sexy as she did when she was pregnant.
Her ash brown hair looked alive. The early wrinkles under her eyes seemed to heal up.
It must be a girl she thought - for all of these female hormones to be exploding all over her body.
‘Oh my God - it’s so sexy’ she thought. She thought of her husband Max fucking her the way he did. He was a really good lay - and he had a nice sized dick. Just the thoughts of sizing up her husbands elephant trunk exciting her and she thought she really just had to go pee to cool herself off, and let some of that hot piss satisfy her for now.
She got up from the desk and started to walk towards the door when Robert came in.
Robert was about 7 years younger than she was, she reckoned, and he was the cutest boy at work - the one that was a little shy, but with a sweet side. The one, who if stuck on a desert island with, she would have no problem using to continue the human species.
‘Good morning, Robert,’she said in her soft Germanic accent. ‘Good morning, Greta’he replied. There was something so comforting in his body - she thought. Whenever she had to get close to him in the office it was as if every muscle relaxed. Sex signals, she thought. Radar. She was no twit. Buts she had a date to go the restroom and to ease her itch.
In the restroom she guided herself towards the last stall and sat down. There was a newspaper on the floor and she began to read on about those funny Americans Jessica Simpson and Angelina Jolie - as her naked finger snaked its way up and down her ravine.
She looked down and she liked what she saw. She loved her vagina - and she loved it more now that she was pregnant. She loved tracing a signature over her pink lips and relished pushing her clit ever so slightly. She began to work her slender fingers and developed a sort of groove or rhythm as she read on about the news. She knew she really shouldn’t get off in the ladies toilet, but her finger kept its rhythm and so she began to squeeze her leg muscles and rub her flesh.
She began to think about Max and his big muscle and how it filled her box up. She really enjoyed the late night fuckings they had had. But she knew that not just Max could get her off in a quick way so she would have to go a little dirty. As she toyed with her wet flesh she began to envision another man - a bit silent, a bit dark, but handsome and warm - with a long body, and a long penis.
As he guided her to the bed in her fantasy she opened herself to him and let him have his way with her. She enthusiastically sucked him and let him have her ass and her face and finally her pussy - yes her pussy, where he would shoot his thick hot load. Mmm. The pleasure.
She continued to itch at herself - building a rhythm and embracing the strong man of her fantasy who took her ass, who took her everything, who used her like a rubber and threw her away.
Christ he was big. He stretched her with that big cock… GASP. When you withhold a loud orgasm the one that comes is a bit different and Greta essentially felt her body implode. It was like that idea of seeing stars. She felt a bit delirious and her body began to chill and convulse. Cold sweat built up on the back of her neck. She was light headed but then reclaimed her sense of place
‘Ah,’ She thought. ‘Now that is what English-speakers call ‘the big O.'’
After she had calmed her pink pussy lips in the ladies, Greta returned to clarity. She remembered that Max was having a show that Thursday night in a comedy production in North Beach.
She had promised him to get as many of her coworkers to come, and so she dutifully announced to her coworkers when she got back from the ladies that they should all come and spend $5 to see Max and his colleagues perform at the church.
‘I’m going, Robert’ said matter of factly. ‘My girlfriend’s sister is in that show.’
Robert looked cute, Greta thought in a relaxed way. Maybe he was her mystery date in the ladies. ‘Oh,’ Greta smiled from behind her work station. ‘See you there.’
BARE AS A BODKIN
City Thursdays in Spring sometimes were wet and moist, sometimes were cold and windy, but on special occasions were humid and warm a prelude to summer.
Bars filled up after work, and all the good looking city people got together to drink beer, shoot pool, and engage in ancient courting rituals.
While Katrina and Robert needed neither spirits nor atmosphere to get their grooves on, they decided to have a few beers before catching her sister Lila in the show at St. Agnes.
The performance was called “Bare as a Bodkin” and it was some sort of raunchy take on Shakespeare. As they walked to the theater the two began to hold hands.
‘You know some people from work might be here tonight,’ Robert said trying to make small talk.
‘Oh yeah, who?’ asked Katrina. ‘Well, I know that Greta’s husband Max is performing, so I guess we’ll see Greta.’
‘Oh’ said Katrina. ‘That’s cool.’
Robert could tell that Katrina was a bit jealous. The truth was she knew that he probably liked her - she knew her boyfriend’s postures, his language, the way he said a woman’s name. Sensing his girlfriend’s apprehension he decided to proclaim her lack of accessibility to him.
‘Yeah, she’s expecting,’ he said.
‘Oh yeah?’ Katrina said, returning from her analytical detachment. ‘How far a long is she?’
‘Three months, ‘Robert answered.
When they got to St. Agnes they saw that it was going to be a big show. The line was out the church’s basement door and all sorts of hipster kids were outside smoking and joking.
Katrina and Robert waited in line, and slowly worked their way to the table where two young women, dressed as nymphs out of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, took their $10 and stamped their hands. They then proceeded into the main chamber, which was entirely black and surrounded by bleachers. Katrina and Robert worked their way up to the top of one side and got a good seat.
Robert strained to recognize any of the guys from work, but couldn’t see anybody. Then out of the corner of his eye he spied her shape across the stage and at the front row. She was dressed in a dark velvety dress and had on black heels. She looked SEXY.
The bleachers began to fill up until the whole room was heavy with breathing and anticipation - when one of the nymphs came on stage and launched into a very risque sonnet. The audience laughed, but Robert was preoccupied with the mass across from him. He thought about her bump and he felt a noticeable twang in his penis.
There were several men on stage, but Robert couldn’t tell which one was Max. He assumed he was the bigger guy - but who knew. All he knew is that he just wanted to keep sneaking glances at his coworker Greta, and he did until she got up about half an hour into the show - just about the same time he felt a pressure on his bladder from the beer he had had earlier.
He asked one of the non-acting nymphs to point him towards the restrooms and she instructed him to go through a series of doors towards the back of the church, behind the kitchen. He almost got lost, but finally wound his way through the maze to the men’s restroom where he let go of his huge burden. He cleaned himself off and buttoned up and turned around to leave, all the time thinking of Greta and her legs and her bump, and her smile. He ‘must have a crush’he thought, hoping that if he classified his emotions they would go away.
But then he saw her coming the opposite direction. In her gorgeous medieval outfit. Their eyes met and he felt like he had been shot with 120 volts of energy.
‘Hi Greta.’
‘Oh - it’s so good you came,’ she said. She seemed cheerful and less industrious than her normal workself. They exchanged a bit of awkward body language but then Robert blurted out ‘You look really nice tonight.’
‘Thank you, so do you’ she said. This was terrible he thought. He had to do something. He had to say something, and the alcohol in his system just let his true thoughts slip out without warning.
‘I think you look really nice - especially because you are pregnant,’ he said.
‘Oh you are not the only one who has noticed,’ Greta replied with a grin. ‘I have noticed too. I think I am having a girl because of all this estrogen in my body. ‘She reached down and touched her bump and moved closer to him.
‘Here, feel,’ she said. ‘Feel my bump.’ She pulled her nervous hand closer and put it on her belly.
The bump felt somewhere between soft and hard. He was nervous to touch it too heavily, but felt calmed by the bump. She looked up at him, a kind of deep glare in her eyes and breathed heavily. ‘You know Robert,’ she said with a hysterical tinge to her voice.
‘I really want to kiss you. Will you kiss me?’
he leaned forward and kissed her forehead and then her nose, and then…my God…her mouth. ‘I just feel so sexy since I have been pregnant,’ Greta said sensitively, wrapping her arms around his tree trunk of a waist. ‘I just feel so aroused all the time.’
They began to kiss and Robert felt like a 14 year old in the middle of his first time. The air seemed so cold and he felt afraid because he was kissing another man’s wife, and afraid because she was pregnant, but overwhelmed by whatever pheromones escaped from her body and deeply in love with her scent, a scent he had breathed so deeply.
‘Please come with me’ she said, leading him down a hall way through a door to a dark room. She flicked on a switch and there hung many robes worn by priests and lay people.
‘Here’ she said, ‘help me take this thing off.’ Robert helped her lift the skirt off her trim body revealing nothing underneath but her angelic form - her tiny, yet swollen breasts, like a 15 year-old’s, so soft they would fit perfect in his hand. And of course her tummy, which started at the base of her rib cage, and protruded out in a natural arc just like he had thought of - perfect, hot and growing.
‘Can I?,’Robert hesitated. ‘Can I kiss it?’ She planted hot kisses on his cheeks and guided his face down to her bump. He kneeled before her and began to plant little daisies of kisses along the lining of her skin, hiding them in her pelvic valleys, and stopping to feel her curly black pubic hair tickle his chin.
She looked so gorgeous in the cloakroom light and he felt a bit overwhelmed down on his knees. But he stood up and she began to unbutton his shirt and pants. They soon were both completely hot and naked and she decided to take advantage of the situation.
‘Robert - I want you to fuck me’she said. ‘I want you in every orifice of me’she said as she guided his cock towards her thigh. She then slowly kneeled down and began to plant kisses along his rod, looking up to savor the feeling of another man’s big dick in her palm. Robert, as she expected, was quite long and thick and engorged by the sight of her angelic body. She felt so hot as she let his big thickness come into her mouth. She toyed with his p-spot as he grabbed masses of her hair and stood at attention and continued to bob her head up and down on his big dick. He mumbled and a certain giddiness began to spur in his testes as the night air hit his shaft as she savored him. He thought about where he would fuck her, in her throat, in her puckered little ass, that tight little ass, and finally deep in her mystic oven, where the next generation was brewing.