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I keep my lips on hers gentle, a soft brushing of lips to lips. It’s only when she timidly brings her hands to my neck that I try urging her further, into a deeper kiss.
And she obliges.
Her mouth tastes as sweet as the cola she drank earlier, with an added hint of cherry from the Chapstick she applied after stopping at Whole Foods.
My cock is stirring to life below my waistband, and there’s no hiding it; not when wearing cotton shorts.
There’s something else stirring too, and I can’t help but smile as her boy decides now is a good time to be active.
“That doesn’t get old,” I murmur against her lips, pressing one last small kiss to her lips before bringing my head back.
“It doesn’t weird you out?” Dylan asks, but makes no move to step back, her belly remains pressed to me.
“It doesn’t weird you out to have my hard-on pressed to your pregnant stomach?” I ask back.
Because I guess, if I really thought about, that was a little weird. Baby maker pressed to the baby.
Dylan’s face breaks out in a grin before she giggles sweetly. Then blushes at her giggle.
And quickly, she sobers.
“I keep feeling like you’re too good to be true.”
I brush my thumb under her eye, as I stare into their gray depths. “You deserve all the too goods.”
