Pregnant Fetish Fulfilled Ch. 02

When I thought about it, I realised that my first meeting with Christine could hardly have been better. And I was going to see her again. Yet I still felt slightly nervous, as though it was all a bit too good to be true. The next day, I wanted to ring Christine and confirm that she had enjoyed our afternoon together, but I remembered that she had stayed with her parents overnight and was spending the day with them. I knew she had appointment with her obstetrician on Monday, so I waited until that evening to ring her.

"How did your appointment go?" I asked.

"Fine. Everything's going well," Christine said. "Do you think I should have told him about all the sex I'm planning to have between now and my due date?"

I could hear the smile in Christine's voice. I really liked her sense of humour. Who said funny isn't sexy? "Yeah, you probably should have," I said, playing along.

"You won't believe what he told me," Christine said. "He said I've got a nice bottom! That's not very professional is it?" she said, laughing.

Thinking it was one thing, but saying it wasn't very PC. "He really said that?" I asked.

"Yep." Christine said. Teasing, she continued, "I think he's a sicko like you – he fancies pregnant women. Explains why he became an obstetrician, I guess!"

It was Christine who first mentioned our Saturday afternoon together. Now it was my turn to smile, because what she said dispelled my nervousness and confirmed my positive feelings about us.

After we had been speaking for a while, Christine finally said, "I'd better be going. I'll email you, so check your mail before you head off to work tomorrow."

The next morning, I was at work, sitting at my desk before I remembered what Christine had said. Though I could check my email using webmail, it was a bit risky. The private use of work computers was strictly forbidden. But because I didn't want to have to wait until I got home, I decided to take a chance.

Her email was towards the top of my inbox. The message subject was "Wish you were here!" There was no text, just an attachment, and when I opened it, I was amazed by what I saw. It was a picture of Christine, naked, and semi-reclined on a couch. Actually, it was a close up of her bump and thighs. Her thighs were slightly open, revealing the top of her slit. On her pregnant belly, written in bright red lipstick, which contrasted with her pale skin, were the words "Wish you were here!" The word "here" was underlined and an arrow ran down from the line, ending at Christine's pubic hair and pointing to her vagina.

Laughing, I thought to myself, "Me too!"

My boss chose exactly that moment to hurry into my office. He seldom looked pleased with life, which was surprising, considering he had an attractive, young wife and lived in luxury in one of the city's most exclusive suburbs.

Without any of the usual pleasantries, and in a sour voice, he asked, "What are you laughing at?"

That was a fair question. At my workplace, happy employees stood out like a sore thumb.

I quickly minimized the email and attachment before he had a chance to see what I'd been looking at.

I didn't know what to say. Fortunately though, no reply was expected or desired. Instead, he thrust a letter under my nose. "We (meaning, of course, "You") need to respond to these bastards ASAP." I looked at the letter. It was from our biggest client – a client who helped fund my boss's lifestyle by paying the firm millions of dollars in fees every year. I looked up from the letter, but before I could reply, the boss was out the door and gone.

I sent Christine a quick email. "Loved the photo, thanks. You don't know how much I wish I was there too (lol)!"

After I got home from work, I rang Christine and told her how I'd almost got caught. When she stopped laughing, she said, "Tomorrow morning, make sure you check your email before you go to work!"

In my email next morning there was a short video clip of Christine, on the couch again. This time she was masturbating, rubbing her clit furiously with her finger. I couldn't see her face, but her loud moans took me back to last Saturday. As the video faded out, I was aware that my heart was racing and there was a slight sweat on my forehead. My erection was uncomfortably positioned in my pants. Looking at my watch, I saw that I had about ten minutes before I needed to leave to catch my train. I played the video again as I unzipped my pants and pulled a handful of tissues out of the box next to the computer. I didn't want to have to clean up the computer keyboard afterwards.

That night, I phoned Christine again and told her I didn't think I could wait until Saturday week to see her.

"I don't want wait either," Christine confessed. "In fact, I reckon we should both take the day off work tomorrow!"

I thought for a moment. Normally, taking a workday off at short notice would be impossible, but tomorrow might actually be doable. I had only two appointments scheduled and they were clients who were also friends. I knew they wouldn't mind being put off for a day or two.

We agreed to meet at the motel at 10.00 a.m. tomorrow.

Next morning, my first phone call was to Lynn, my secretary. As soon as she said "Hello", I knew it was Lynn. She and her husband had migrated from the United Kingdom and her strong accent seemed unaffected by five years in Australia.

I told Lynn I was taking the day off and I'd ring the boss and tell him I was sick. Lynn was amused by the fact that I was "bunking off" for the day.

She said, "I think you're having the day off because you're going to spend it shagging some bird you've got coming around."

Without explaining, I cheerfully admitted that what she had said was remarkably close to the truth.

Ending the conversation, Lynn said, "Don't worry, I'll make sure the boss doesn't ring you during the day." "Have fun," she added, cheerily. Then adopting a mock serious tone, she said, "And don't do anything unnatural!" Her attempt to sound serious was undone by a snort of amusement.

I knew exactly what she was talking about. As I got into my car, I remembered a conversation that Lynn and I had, several years ago. She and her husband had been to Tasmania for a holiday. When she returned to work, I had asked Lynn how she enjoyed her holiday.

"Is it true that anal sex is illegal in Tasmania?" she asked, grinning, while closing my office door and lowering her voice so she couldn't be overheard.

I laughed. I should have known that Lynn wouldn't rave over how wonderful the view from Mount Wellington was, or how beautiful it was cruising on the pristine Franklin River. Although Lynn knew that I had studied a couple of law subjects at university, it wasn't a serious question. The reason she asked was that she thought I lived a sheltered, boring life and enjoyed trying to shock me.

I had told her that when was at university, anal sex was still illegal in Queensland. There was a chapter of the Criminal Code headed "Offences Against Morality." In that chapter was a section titled "Unnatural Acts" which made anal sex a crime punishable by imprisonment.

Lynn had obviously thought I was winding her up. Incredulously, she exclaimed, "You're having a laugh, aren't you?" I assured her that I wasn't, and if she didn't believe me, she should look at an old copy of the Code.

Smiling, I thought to myself, "If only Lynn knew what I had planned for today!"

Christine was already waiting in the motel carpark when I arrived. As soon as I closed the door to the room, we were all over each other. There was no need for foreplay – she was wet and I was hard and we had desperate sex, still half dressed, on the bedspread. Afterwards, we were so out of breath it was almost an effort to get up and undress fully.

After a few minutes relaxing next to her on the sheets, I was ready to go again. I wondered what Christine's reaction would be when I told her what I wanted to do. I moved my hand, which had been stroking her bump, down to her vagina. After lubricating my fingers with her vaginal juices, I gently massaged the small strip of skin between her vagina and anus.

I kissed her and asked, "Have you ever had anal sex?"

"No," Christine shook her head. Patting her belly, she added, "If I had, perhaps I wouldn't have ended up like this!"

The joke didn't disguise the slightly nervous tone in her voice.

"Do you want to try it?" I asked. "I'll be very gentle."

"I've got a girlfriend who loves anal," Christine said. "She's always saying I should give it a go. Plus I'm really horny, so why not?"

From my bag of supplies, I bought out a small thin vibrator. I put plenty of lube on the vibrator and stood it on the corner of the bedside table where it was within easy reach. I massaged Christine's clit with one hand and her anus with the other. After a few minutes, I inserted the vibrator. I continued to rub Christine's clit while gently moving the vibrator in and out of her anus. When she orgasmed, I could feel her anal muscles contracting strongly around the vibrator.

I thought to myself that if I was going to have anal sex, now was the time, while she was in a relaxed, post-orgasmic state. While I slipped on a condom, Christine knelt on the bed, close to the edge, on her knees and elbows. When I stood behind her, her anus and my dick were roughly in line, making penetration easier. I smeared her anus with lube and inserted a finger, which slid in fairly easily. I put more lube on the condom and after a few minutes, I tried to replace my finger with my dick. That wasn't so easy, but after a bit of maneuvering, I managed to slide a couple of inches inside her.

I gave her a moment or two to get used to the feeling. Then I pushed slowly in and out, being careful to keep my penetration gentle and reasonably shallow. At the same time, I reached around and stimulated her clit with my fingers.

"How does it feel?" I asked.

"Not too bad – pretty good," Christine said, tentatively.

The tightness and the "nastiness" of having anal sex with a heavily pregnant woman meant that I came quickly and loudly. It was only then I noticed that Christine hadn't cum.

We collapsed on the bed and I said, "I guess having anal for the first time when you're pregnant probably isn't a great idea."

Christine said, "No, I don't think it's that." Perhaps I just need a bit more experience doing it. Actually, what I definitely need right now is a shower. I've got lube everywhere!"

We jumped in the shower together. Typical of most motel showers, the showerhead could be hand held and it was attached to a long flexible hose.

"Have you ever masturbated using one of these?" I asked.

With a big grin on her face, Christine nodded. "Now that's one of my favourite toys. When I still lived at home, my parents used to wonder why I took so long in the shower some nights. Sometimes I'd cum once, and then want to see if I could cum again."

Leaning with her back against me, Christine held her vaginal lips open with her fingers. I held the showerhead in one hand, directing the stream of water onto her clit. With the other hand, I massaged her swollen belly and her heavy, soapy left boob. Soon I felt her nipple harden as she began to cum. The sound of Christine's orgasm and feeling her pressed against me excited me again. I wanted to get out of the shower and back into bed with her as soon as I could.

We spent the whole afternoon in bed. Given that the 69 position would have been difficult, we took it in turns – after I went down on her, she went down on me. Now the edge had been taken off our lust for each other, the pleasure was prolonged and heightened. She rode me and then I knelt between her legs, my dick almost sliding out of her on each stroke, before being fully enveloped again by her warm and very wet vagina.

Perhaps Christine could feel that I was close to coming, because as I was leaning forward sucking on her nipples, she whispered in my ear, "I want to see you cum."

That pushed me over the edge, and I pulled out and ejaculated all over Christine's pregnant belly. My cum didn't stay there for long, most of it running off the dome of her belly and onto the sheets. I lay down next to Christine and we quickly drifted off to sleep, sticky, and cuddled up together.

When we awoke, it was obvious from the growing darkness in the room that it was getting late.

"Do you think we could go again?" Christine asked, reaching down to play with Mr Floppy.

"No, I don't think so," I said. "I wish I could."

I thought that, when it came to sex, women had a big advantage over men. I asked, "How many times can you cum in a day?"

"I don't really know," Christine said. "But over the last couple of months, I've been so horny I can masturbate up to five or six times a day. And I cum very quickly now, much more quickly than I did before I got pregnant. Being so horny is one of the benefits of being pregnant," Christine said, with a big smile. "I really love being pregnant. I almost wish I could stay pregnant forever."

Then she said, "I guess I'd better be going. I'm meeting a girlfriend for dinner and I'd better not be late. If I am, she might think I've gone into premature labour or something!"

We kissed leaning up against her car in the carpark. Of course, now that it was time to go, I wanted her again.

Reading my mind, Christine said, laughing "You do realise that, in this condition, you can't just bend me over the bonnet of my car, don't you?"

I didn't pay as much attention to the road as I should have on the drive home. In fact, I drove home almost in a daze. Today had been my fantasy come true, better even than last Saturday afternoon. Tomorrow I'd be back at work, but I knew it wouldn't be a productive day.

I'd be too busy reliving today.