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We completed each other. I know, I know, cheesy, but it was true. She spent all her time caring for me, giving me things I didn’t even know I was missing or wanting in my life.
And each night, when we held one another and exchanged ‘I love yous’, I felt more certain that we’d be together forever.
She smiled up at me as she licked my cock, never hasty with her work. She truly appreciated it, and she had that glow. You know, the glow pregnant girls have? She definitely was glowing.
Nothing made me happier than seeing my Rosa parade her naked little rear about the kitchen. Nothing more than seeing her gently lower herself down to her knees, mindful of that round, pregnant belly, to suck my dick, that is.
My cock swelled, spurted some precum and I couldn’t help but moan aloud. She’d been working my dick for so long, and I was near release. I could feel it in my balls as they slowly tightened, that slow, aching fire that burned up my shaft.
“That’s it Rosa,” I groaned aloud.
She could read my body, my words so well, and she knew to speed up just a little. To suction her pretty mouth around my cock and start going up and down with that perfect tempo.
I couldn’t see them with my head knocked back and my eyes shut, but I fantasized about her heavy breasts, rested on that pregnant swell. Saw them within my mind as she worked my cock to fruition.
Those pouty lips and that moist tongue siphoned my climax from me, and I blew the thickest, creamiest load of cum that I’d had since I’d first knocked her up, half a year before. My sweet Rosa, my fingers in her hair, took it all down. Every last spurt upon her tongue before she swallowed it down, catching the last few spurts as well, until my thick, meaty shaft was done and I had no more of that salty gift to give.
I pet her head and smiled down at her, breathing heavily from the intense pleasure.
“I love you, Rosa,” I said affectionately, knowing and feeling it to be absolutely true. As true as any man ever loved a woman.
“I love you,” she said with such adoration, her dark eyes sparkling at me, my cum still upon her lips.
I don’t think either of us could’ve been happier.
Lucy
The Fertile Farm
Book Themes:
Virgin, Barely Legal, Breeding, Creampie, Older Man / Younger Woman, and Taboo Relationship
Word Count:
5,477
* * *
Valentine's Day weren't a big deal on our farm, my ma and pa passed away long ago and there weren't a lick of romance happenin' since. It was just me and Uncle John. Well, I always called him Uncle John, but truth is that he was just my pa's best friend, my godfather I reckon.
Uncle John moved on in and raised me ever since, he was the only one who knew how to run the farm anyhow. He had worked with my pa for years, runnin' the place for my pa when he got sick. I mean, it's a lotta sad memories but it was so long ago that I don't rightly get worked up about it no more when my mind gets to wanderin'.
But like I was sayin' anyhow, Valentine's Day weren't never a big thing on our farm for as long as I can remember. When I still went for schoolin', they'd have us pass out cards to girls and boys alike, but it weren't nothin' romantic. Frankly, though I was like any other young woman, with feelin's and urges, I never rightly understood 'em, least of all what to do with 'em.
Until that day, at least...
* * *
"Lucy!" came my Uncle’s voice, callin' out to me from the farm house. I was in the barn, milkin' one of the cows. Her udders were swollen somethin' fierce, and she was a mooin' right serenely as I emptied 'em for her, fillin' up the bucket.
Now, in the barn with all them animals, I didn't want to be yellin' out and disturbin' 'em, so I had to sit tight a spell, relievin' poor Bessy of her milk until Uncle John came and found me.
"There ya are," he said with a big smile upon his broad face.
Uncle John was a big fella, tallest man for miles around at least, tallest I'd ever met anyhow. He was big and strong, and for all the years he looked after me, I never once felt anythin' but safe with him around.
"Sorry Uncle John, I didn't want to spook the cows," I said as I continued the rhythmic motions of milking Bessy while John watched. "What's up? Everythin' okay?" I asked, and I suppose at the time, I wasn't too aware of how I was bendin' forward, my plaid shirt tied up high across my belly, unbuttoned at the top to show my own sun-kissed breasts a lil' more than was decent.
