No Regrets

I sometimes feel guilty about this one, but if I'm truly honest, it gets me so horny thinking back that I know I would do it again if I could. Some will judge me for what I'm about to confess, but others of a more reflective nature will perhaps take a while to think it through and put themselves in my position.

I'm Nathan. Everyone calls me Nat. I'm a paramedic training to be a nurse and hoping to specialise in radiology. My study leave contract allows me to tick off my required hours in the radiology department of the large city hospital where most of my paramedic work takes place, so I kinda fell into a pattern of convenience early on. And I met James (technically my supervisor) in my first week on the job. We hit it off straight away and he invited me to dinner to meet his lovely wife, Marsha and enjoy some excellent seafood.

Marsha is Portuguese, and James is Colombian. The dinner was a fusion of their national cuisines and was unforgettably delicious. I was glad I'd bought a classy bottle of wine with me that night. I was in digs at the time (although I've recently moved into much nicer accommodation), so I felt I couldn't really invite them back in return but it never seemed to be an issue and over the course of the next three months or so they invited me half a dozen more times - each time the dinner more delicious than the last, and I was really finding myself looking forward to the occasion each time.

It helped, of course, that Marsha was one of those Latina types who was not only extremely hot but also tactile to an extraordinary degree. Whether she was helping me off with my coat, showing me to my seat or serving me something from the kitchen there always seemed to be a lingering touch, a stray finger or a hand on my arm, hip or back. I found myself enjoying these touches - and frequently trying to hide a somewhat obvious sign of that enjoyment.

After about six dinner visits James and Marsha announced that they had some happy news to share. After a long time trying, they had heard that day confirmation that Marsha was pregnant. It was a very happy night, and we celebrated with an excellent lobster bisque washed down with sparkling water - in solidarity with Marsha's inability for the next several months to imbibe anything stronger.

At this stage, and having read my introduction, you will doubtless be thinking you know where this story is going. And you'd be right, but I feel I need to emphasise right off the bat that she wanted it and James wasn't giving it to her so I stepped in.

It all came to a head two nights ago. I saw her online so I typed "Hi, what's happening?". I would have left it there but she replied and we chatted for a bit by text only. She said the baby was kicking and I mentioned how I'd never seen that since I never get to work in maternity. She then tried to show me on the cam but the baby had stopped kicking, and I realised I was getting turned on by watching her belly so I pretended I had a prescription to deliver in her arrondisement and I could stop by if she wanted.

She said sure (it was now 11 PM) and she'd already mentioned that James was in Lille.

So I get in the car and drive over to the 14th. I ring the street door and she lets me in - and it's at that moment that I get a huge feeling that something major is going to happen. I walk up the three flights of steps to the flat, knock at the door softly and lean against it so that when she answers my face is inches from hers. I smile and she smiles back. I give her the red rose I've brought her and she takes it shyly. We go through and sit on the sofa and I ask if I can feel her belly. She raises her chemise and I start feeling her. Round and round go my hands and I soon have her resting her feet on my lap. I bend down and kiss the baby and she stirs. I unbutton her skirt and let it pull down a couple of inches and still kiss and feel her belly.

We're both pretending this is about the baby but I can smell her juices and she's gagging for it after months of hormone-driven passion being denied by her husband's refusal to fuck her during pregnancy. I stroke her across the top of her panties and slip a finger through the elastic so I'm touching her pubic hair on every down stroke. She opens her legs a crack and I slip her panties down a bit further. She reaches up to my hair and strokes it and I remove her panties completely and pull her onto me.

We kiss and her tongue goes so far down my throat that I almost gag. I slip my jeans and pants off and enter her in a sitting position. She bounces up and down on me for about a minute before she comes. And because I'm still fresh I manage to keep it together for another five minutes before I finally push up just a little too far and I'm spurting into her.

We're both exhausted so I lie there with her on the sofa for a while and then help her mop up our mess before letting myself out.

If I'm honest, I am finding it hard to have any regrets. It was a thrill and I would do it again in a flash if James is out of town again before the birth.

So, what do you think? What would you have done?