Disclaimer: I don't own any of the movies or characters from the "Cabin Fever" franchise. All "Cabin Fever" movies and their characters belong to their respective owners. I don't make any money from the writing of this story.
Comments/Kudos are appreciated.
***
Even hours after the fact, Paul was astonished that a woman carrying around so much ballast had so much energy.
In truth, Paul had probably done most of the actual work. But Marcy was undeniably a very engaged lover. Her appetite in the bedroom proved to be even more voracious than her appetite in the kitchen.
He'd lost count of the number of times they'd actually fucked, and the number of positions he'd taken her from; all the while being cheer on by her primal snarls of, "Give it to me! Give it to me, Paul!"
Yet despite the exhausting marathon of sex that had completely milked him dry, Paul still couldn't get to sleep. He felt like he might've passed out for a while after the final orgasm. But right now he was wide awake.
It had been a crazy day and his mind just had too much to process right now for him to properly relax.
Marcy, on the other hand, was dead to the world. She had given everything she had to their fleeting night of passion and now her batteries were completely drained. She looked as if nothing short of a meteor hitting the house would wake her up.
Paul gazed long and patiently at the naked, voluptuous splendor of this nymph who had haunted his memories these past eight months.
They had worked up so much heat having sex that they'd gone to sleep without bedcovers, leaving every inch of Marcy exposed for his viewing pleasure. The house lights they'd neglected to turn off during their race to the bedroom shone just brightly enough through the open doorway for him to be able to make out her features.
She was truly a sight to behold, one that only ever seemed to get hotter. Paul was far too spent to get hard over the sight of her naked body, but he was still fully capable of appreciating what a desirable woman Marcy was. For now, simply enjoying her perfection with his eyes was all the pleasure Paul could ask for. It was a curious situation of receiving sexual satisfaction without any physical satisfaction.
He took his time admiring her enlarged breasts. It was a shame that they lost so much of their shape when she laid on her back like this. But their incredible size and luscious suppleness remained obvious no matter what position she was in.
God, he loved those tits. He loved them like crazy. He loved them in their pert, regular form. He loved them large, blossoming spectacularly in pregnancy. He loved them in every state he'd ever seen them. They consumed him to the point of obsession. He adored and dwelled on those feminine marvels unlike anything else he'd ever known.
He'd seen larger breasts (in porn), but size isn't everything and at certain points it's even a handicap. But Marcy's tits were utterly perfect. Perfect size, perfect shape, perfect softness, perfect perkiness, perfectly suited to Marcy's body and perfect little petite pink nipples. They had changed significantly in the past seven months, but that didn't dampen Paul's admiration of them one iota. To him, these were the same perfect boobs that had given him so much pleasure in the cabin and the motel room. Gazing upon them, fondling them still gave him the exact same heady bliss they had given him before.
He leaned over and pressed his lips around the dark nipple of her left breast, adoring it with something between the tenderest of kisses and a mild suckle. He let his face sink in to its flesh. It was intoxicating to realize just how yielding she was.
A few seconds passed before Paul noticed the bittersweet tingle of early breastmilk on his tongue. This was another new feature; one he hadn't experienced up until now. It caught him by surprise, but kind of in an exciting way and ultimately it became yet another pleasurable sensation these tits had given him.
Marcy didn't stir at all as Paul enjoyed her assets; she was out cold.
As he slowly drew away from her soft bosom, her remembered all the fun he'd had with her boobs in the motel room. Especially that unforgettable tittyfuck Marcy gave him. Feeling that tender flesh rolling over his erogenous cockhead was sheer heaven and blowing his load onto them had been the most satisfying orgasm of his life.
He lamented that he was too spent right now to enjoy such pleasures again. Nothing was stopping him from propping himself up and touching her breast with his cock; he just couldn't be bothered.
With a sigh of exhaustion, his heavy head dropped like a rock back in to his pillow. He stared up at the dark ceiling and reflected on how he came to be too spent to play with those breasts he adored so much.
His hail-Mary shot at bedding Marcy one final time had obviously paid off, much better than even his wildest dreams. During the trip, he had braced himself many times for a meeting with Marcy that would be cordial, but fruitless. Realistically, the chances of his visit leading to a casual fuck were practically nil. Hope hadn't driven him to Oregon, desperation had.
But of course, Paul hadn't anticipated the massive curveball that was awaiting him.
Marcy's pregnancy was initially a total mood-killer, but it had also made Marcy as desperate for a little sexual release as Paul himself. It turned out to be a game changer that worked very much in his favor.
Marcy's new shape was the only foil to his plan. His deeply-rooted fantasy of screwing the exact same heavenly body he'd enjoyed in the cabin could never have come to pass. Nonetheless, the well-rounded figure he'd found instead satisfied all his cravings completely.
Paul gazed over at the shadowy silhouette of Marcy's swollen belly, which towered above the mattress like a geometrically perfect hill. He reached out and gently laid his hand upon its side and slowly caressed its surface, feeling her abdomen's new solidness and curvature. Once again, he was struck by how much the changes to Marcy's body conveyed a profound sense of womanhood.
As he let the fullness of her womb fill his grasp, he reflected on the moment the new life within was made.
He remembered it with such clarity: being utterly captivated by those two bountiful breasts hanging freely mere inches above his face, while simultaneously being driven crazy by the hot, tight pussy polishing the sensitive head of his cock. He'd lost himself in a daze of arousal, been numbed and paralyzed by every facet of Marcy's femininity, as surely as if it were venom. The few muscles that still worked were operating entirely on reflex, not his own control.
