It was a typical October afternoon in London. The sky was grey and the rain drizzled down from time to time making the streets dark and damp. I had to go there on some sort of errand, I can't remember what exactly. My wife asked me to call around there with a booklet about childcare or something like that. Barry and Fiona lived in a large Edwardian house in Highgate, the sort where there is a flight of steps up to a front door with an imposing portico. She was in her early thirties, he was about the same age as me. I parked nearby and rushed through the pouring rain to ring the doorbell.
I was looking forward to seeing Fiona. I had always found her very attractive and I wondered if she had noticed that my heart skipped a beat and my nether regions stiffened a little when I saw her. I love my wife but we don't have a great relationship in the bedroom so I often find myself thinking about other women and occasionally, when the opportunity has presented itself on business trips, I have had wonderful casual sex with female colleagues in hotel rooms in distant places. I am a slim, attractive fifty and I like pretty, petite, younger women with minds and appetites of their own.
Fiona answered the door. She was pregnant and her bulge had grown quite large. She is a beautiful woman, about 5'6" in height, entrancing blue eyes and a slightly deep voice. She had mousy brown hair cut in a neat bob and she wore a white and blue maternity dress. She greeted me with a smile and, yes, my heart skipped a beat and something stirred down below, but I showed nothing, at least I don't think I did.
She led me into the softly lit and elegant drawing room. I sat in a black leather armchair next to the fireplace and she sat on a soft sofa nearby. We made polite conversation for a few minutes. She asked after my wife, I asked her about her pregnancy and how she was coping with the young child they already had.
"Oh, Annabelle, our nanny has taken him out shopping this afternoon. They won't be back for an hour or so. Would you like a drink?"
"Some tea would be fine," I replied. She smiled sweetly and went off to make it.
I relaxed in my chair thinking how well pregnancy suited her. She had that glow about her that pregnant women have and her ripe bulge somehow made her look even sexier than she normally did. Her pert little breasts looked more swollen and rounder than I remembered. She looked fantastic.
When she returned with a tray of tea things she stood close to one side of my chair. "Would you mind?" she said as she leaned across me to reach for a tea table which was on the other side of the chair. Of course, she could not reach it and she lurched across me. I caught the tray and delivered it safely to the table leaving her with both her hands on my legs.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I have become so clumsy since I have been pregnant." But she didn't move straight away and looked straight into my eyes, still with her hands on my thighs. The atmosphere was electric. I leaned forward slightly and kissed her very lightly on the lips. She pressed back very slightly.
"You look delicious," I said. She fixed me with her stare and her enigmatic smile as she stood up and brushed back and strand of hair that had fallen across her face.
"It is nice to know that I still have my admirers. Barry isn't interested in me since I have been pregnant. He is a bit squeamish about making love to a pregnant girl but I need a lot of comforting at the moment and I need a man who isn't afraid to do it."
I retained my composure, my expression didn't change. She was still standing so I stood up too and we faced each other for a moment. "Are you OK?" I asked.
