I'm heavily pregnant, in the kitchen of our house, standing at the bench buttering toast for one of the toddlers sitting on the floor in front of the TV, playing happily. Sometimes there's a baby in a sling over my pregnant belly as well; but not this time.
This time you come up behind me, put your arms around me and grab at my big baby belly and grind your cock into my back so I can feel how hard you are. You nuzzle the back of my neck, your warm breath sending off tingles of electricity and lighting up the hairs on my skin. You know how much I like your cock to be hard. It makes me feel safe.
Sometimes you pull up my skirt and slide your cock into me right then and there. You'll fuck me hard and quick, edging, edging, edging, and then you'll let me go. But not this time.
This time you whisper "It's time, baby" in my ear, and I put down the butter knife and you take me by the hand and lead me to the bedroom.
You lay me down and lie next to me, lightly fingering my clit until I'm writhing in pleasure, occasionally taking my hand and kissing it gently as you watch me, enchanted. I can tell by your face that you're hard, so hard, so hard your cock is bending, straining, so hard that you ache.
Your eyes are fixed on my face, watching my every expression, encouraging me, wolf like, the whites of your eyes flashing as my clit gets hard, a picture of primal lust as you expertly finger my pussy.
As I get more and more turned on and as my pussy gets more excited, a warm gooey glow of pleasure emanates from my pussy, growing larger and larger, only matched by the growing animal intensity of your eyes, your fingers getting more urgent, pushing in closer to the edge of my pussy, building and building and building, taking over my body so that I become rigid with desire, wanting so much to tip over the edge but you are skilfully hovering me there, pushing me to the precipice.
"You're going to have our baby today my love" you whisper, and I should be nervous but I'm not. Your words excite me.