For someone with my likes, dislikes, and fetishes, I had the best job in history when I graduated from college with a degree in Health Sciences. Let me explain.
My name is Austen. I'm about 6'2" tall with a lean and athletic build (I actually love to work out daily), though I am not better than average in any sport, except possibly swimming. I have light brown wavy hair, hazel eyes, a big smile, and an outgoing personality. Starting when I first experienced sexual cravings I appreciated women of all ages and builds, though I was turned off by pregnant women after about the middle of their second trimester (I knew all about the phases of pregnancy even then because I got one of the highest grades ever in my High School in Sex Ed.). Then I had an epiphany.
One of my Mom's younger friends was a fox named Carolyn. Carolyn lived only a few houses down, and often worked outside in her yard in shorts and a halter top, or came to visit my Mom just to talk, for book club, to assist in gardening (she had a real green thumb), etc. I had a real thing for Carolyn; I thought that she was by far the sexiest woman of any age I had ever seen.
When Carolyn was thirty (I knew her age because I overheard her talking with my Mom about pregnancy) she got pregnant with her first child. I was able to observe her at least every other day during her entire pregnancy, and even pinch hit for her husband twice as her Lamaze (natural childbirth) coach when he was out of town. It was watching her -- and the enormous crush I had on her that hijacked my brain many evenings, but that I never came close to acting upon -- that changed me from being turned off by pregnant women to coveting them. Strange, huh?
My stellar performance in Sex Ed., and my association with Carolyn during her pregnancy and Lamaze classes, likely were what enticed me to major in Health Sciences in college. I had several job offers after graduating but took one in a big city full service health clinic, specializing in wellness, nutrition, birth control, and natural childbirth (in addition to acupuncture, chiropractics, and conventional general practice medicine), even though it didn't pay the most. I took that job not only because it was exactly what I wanted, but also because I had a couple of failed relationships in college and wanted to move far away from where I went to school, and my exes. I had gotten my Lamaze certification even before graduating, and immediately became the head of the natural childbirth business of my employer, though I also taught wellness sessions and did some work as a personal trainer.
Women usually take Lamaze at about the 7th month of pregnancy, right around the beginning the third trimester. Most often I taught five or six Lamaze classes at any one time with about a dozen women in each class.
It was only about the third class I had started when my enhanced sexual feelings toward many pregnant women because lust -- some call it a pregnant-woman fetish. Whatever it is, I got it bad as a result of a Carolyn look-alike.
I could not fucking believe it when one of the women who registered for my third class looked so much like my teenage crush, Carolyn, that they could have been sisters. She was 5'7" tall, had shoulder length brunette hair, large sparkling blue eyes, toned arms and legs, and a button nose and full lips, all just like Carolyn. Shit, she even wore the same types of jewelry and looked like she had the same maternity clothes wardrobe Carolyn did. The first three letters of her name were even the same -- Carrie. And, she was 31, pregnant with her first child, just a year older than Carolyn was when she was first pregnant.
I tried not to pay special attention to Carrie. It was impossible. Being no dummy, she quickly figured out that her 23 year old instructor had taken a shine to her. Since she clearly already knew that I likely had a crush on her, that made it easier for me to invite her -- at no charge -- to a wellness course I taught, and for free one-on-one exercise sessions with me serving as her personal trainer.
Carrie was married to a guy named Brad who was about ten years older and had two sons by a previous marriage. He was a wealthy hard-charging business man whose first wife had her babies cesarean, and he barely tolerated the Lamaze classes. It was clear that having a child at all, let alone naturally, was Carrie's idea, not his.
Brad was as happy as a pig in poop when -- with Carrie's permission -- I offered him a chance to skip the Lamaze classes requiring a coach, telling him I would use Carrie as the demonstration and act as her coach -- even during the actual delivery if he was OK with that. I couldn't believe how readily he agreed to it, or that he was so naïve or disinterested that he didn't realize what I was up to.
Of course you're a lot smarter than Brad, so you know what my plan was -- to fuck Carrie every chance I got.
Given her husband's attitude, her natural attraction to a younger upbeat guy like myself, and my doting on her, I knew I would succeed as long as her sex drive was not adversely affected by her pregnancy. While she wasn't in that relatively small group of women whose raging pregnancy hormones significantly enhanced her libido, her normal pre-pregnancy sex drive did continue into her third trimester.
Though getting progressively more excited, I played it cool and respectful. Although I took every legitimate opportunity to touch Carrie, and praise her appearance, I was never overtly sexual. That is until it came time to "bring down the hammer!"
I had taken trigger point massage and Myofascial release courses in college, including one specifically related to pregnant women. I had a special pillow that allowed a pregnant woman in her third trimester to lie on her stomach and still be comfortable while being massaged.
Like many pregnant women, quite often Carrie had foot and lower back pain. After almost every wellness class or personal training session I had her lie on the special pillow, or on her side with a conventional pillow between her legs, and gave her a ten to fifteen minute massage specifically designed for a pregnant woman. That massage included light strokes on her belly, lymphatic strokes on her legs, gentle squeezing of her gluteal muscles, and lower back strokes pointing toward her feet. Collectively they made her almost comatose with contentment every time.
While I avoided contact with the five portions of each foot that could cause uterine contractions or bleeding, during those sessions I also worked on other portions of Carrie's feet, again to her great joy. It was in massaging her feet that I came across two zones I thought were aphrodisiac. I only dealt with them long enough to be almost certain that they were erogenous, and then moved on.
After one late afternoon personal training session Carrie told me about the equipment she had at home to keep in shape on days we weren't training. I knew from earlier conversations that day that Brad was out of town. I asked if it would be OK for me to come by and look over "her equipment," and that I would then give her a massage and even buy her take-out dinner. She quickly agreed with a big smile on her face.
I followed her to her house in my car, and after I made the obligatory inspection of her workout apparatus, and discussed possible other exercises and additional equipment, I said "It looks like your feet are killing you -- I don't think your cross-training shoes fit you properly. You haven't taken into account that your feet get bigger during your third trimester."
"Really, Austen? I wondered about that since my toes are being pinched."
"Lie down on your exercise mat on your side with a pillow between your legs, and let me see if I can determine what type and size of shoe you need."
I helped her lie down, removed her shoes and socks, and started massaging her feet and calves. She sighed like a lamb and closed her eyes as I worked over all other portions of her feet except the five areas to be avoided, and her suspected erogenous zones.
After she was content, I started kneading both suspected pleasure areas, one with each hand. They were, in fact, erogenous zones! She was no longer sighing -- she was moaning like a porn star, every few seconds taking a deep breath and saying "you have to stoppp...uh," but not meaning it for a second.
After I saw a wet spot form on the crotch of her maternity gym shorts, I scooted up next to her and kissed her gently on the lips. While continuing to kiss her lips, neck, shoulders, or any other body part within reach, I carefully and slowly removed her top and her front clasp maternity bra. She continued to moan or sigh, and alternated between having her eyes open or closed for twenty or thirty seconds at a time.
I tenderly sucked on her delicious, sensitive, leaking nipples until I was sure there was no chance I would meet any resistance for the next stage. Then I carefully removed her gym shorts, my shirt and shorts, and her panties, and put a pillow under her ass.
Her snatch was fabulous; pronounced glistening wet lips sticking up like twin peaks asking to be conquered, surrounded by sparse brown hair. As I licked her slit up and down, pinched her pussy lips, sucked on her clit, and then stuck two fingers up her channel, she kept on saying "Austen, you're a bad, bad boy and shouldn't be doing that to a helpless preggo." When I playfully said "OK, I'll stop then," she screamed "NO!" and when she saw the big shit-eating grin on my face giggled "You bastard!"
With my digits, lips and tongue I brought her to a first subdued but real orgasm, and then to a second sweet and more pronounced one. After the second orgasm, while all the time staring in her face, I slowly lifted her legs and held them up with my hands and arms, and stuck my rock hard cock into her sopping wet cunt. Her cunt was tight, as it had to be given both the condition and position she was in, and I slowly pumped away as she cupped the bottoms of her tits and massaged them. Occasionally I would let a leg rest on one of my shoulders and finger her clit. I didn't pump vigorously until she begged me to.
After only a dozen exuberant strokes she started screaming and I shot a good five or six charges of cream into her as we were both wracked with massive, overwhelming, orgasms. It was all I could do to not collapse on her bulbous belly.
