After drawing her lips all the way over her teeth, Jenni sucks down hard. My cock pokes the back of her throat, making her gag. I shouldn’t love the noise, but I do. After raising my hips off the bed, I dip my cock in and out of her mouth on repeat, loving that not even her arousal coating every inch of my shaft has stopped her eagerness. It adds to the wickedness, blasting my excitement to never-before-reached levels.
I grip her hair a little rougher when she swivels her tongue around my knob. “Do that again.”
My balls pull in close to my body when she follows my command without a protest. Her tongue slips over the slit in my crown before she drags it down my shaft.
“Now suck on my balls.”
She groans, revealing she’s loving my dominant personality, before she once again follows my instructions. She glides her hand up and down my cock as she licks, sucks and grazes her teeth over my balls. When the tingle racing through my sack becomes too great to ignore, I hoist her up from the bed before splaying her thighs on each side of my hips. Air hisses between her teeth when she feels the steel rod lodged between us. I’m so fucking hard right now, my worry that I’ll hurt her or our baby smacks back into me.
Before I can voice my concern, Jenni raises herself to her knees, nestles my cock between the slick folds of her vagina, then slams down.
“Fuck. Christ. Shit.”
She rises and falls another four times before any worries about hurting her are pushed aside for dominance. Just like it’s always been between us, I want to satisfy her. This isn’t about me fucking to get my rocks off. It’s about her and how I make her feel. I want to be the best fuck she’s ever had, then maybe I can fool her into keeping me forever.
* * *
Going bareback for the second time was just as thrilling as the first. I fully plan on ditching condoms forever, so I better get a good health plan with how many kids Jenni will be popping out.
When I say that to her, she gags. “You can say that because you’re not the one with your head in the toilet all day.”
Her reply takes care of my confusion about her weight loss. She's lost a few pounds the last month. Her already slender frame has more bones protruding than usual.
“Have you been to the doctor? Maybe he can give you something to settle your stomach.” I have no clue how this whole pregnancy thing works, but she can’t afford to lose any more weight.
“Yes!” She dives off the bed, her leap as excited as her reply. “I completely forgot to show you.”
She rushes to her suitcase like her thighs aren’t still trembling, removes a photo, then returns to the bed we’ve been making love on the past three hours. Smiling a grin that demands another three hours, she hands me a black and white image. My head slants to the side when I stare down at it. I have no clue what I’m looking at. It appears to be blobs of static.
“What is it?”
Jenni ribs me with her elbow. “It’s our baby.”
She braces her chin on my shoulder before pointing out blobs of gray. “That’s the head, body, and those little things sticking out there are the legs.”
When I squint, I can nearly make out the things she is stating. “It must be a boy.” I point to a long thing in the middle of the legs.
Laughing, she snatches the photo out of my hand. “That’s the umbilical cord.” Her brows join. “I think.” She admiringly glances at the photo for a few more minutes before setting it down. “What do you think about us having a baby?”
“I’m scared,” I reply truthfully.
A deep V forms between her brows. She’s not angry; she’s more concerned than anything.
“Not about having a baby. I’m scared I’ll fuck everything up.” I lock my eyes with her. “That I’ll fuckusup.”
The past few weeks I was struggling to get over the heartache of losing Jenni. It was only the last week did I realize I was also devastated about losing our baby. The idea of having children petrified me. . . until I met Jenni.
“I’m scared too.” Her tone lowers to match her brows.
“What do you have to be scared about? You’ll be a natural.” I’m not lying. I have no doubt she’ll be a wonderful mother; that’s why my panic about becoming a father isn’t as strong this time around.
“I’m scared our baby is going to grow up alone.”
When my thumb rubs the little V between her brows, her scared eyes meet mine. “It won’t grow up alone, because he or she will always have us.”
This is all new to me, but I must have said something right because Jenni smiles her knockout grin. After resting her head on my shoulder, she spends the next twenty minutes sharing the story of how she found out her dad isn’t her biological father.
My heart broke for her from the devastation in her tone. She’s not upset Michael isn’t her actual dad—she could have never asked for a better man to be her father—she’s more upset that he hasn’t attempted to reconcile with her the past month.
