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She shook her head and finished opening the box, folding each individual piece of tissue paper before she got to the final piece.
Yanking it away, the anticipation of the act killing me, she stared in shock at the leather vest.
“I know it probably doesn’t fit right now,” I started. “But I want you to wear my patch. I want you to be mine.”
She looked up, tears swimming in her eyes. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Going two for two, I bent down and retrieved the little silver box from my pocket, and then dropped down to one knee.
“What are you doing?” She asked breathlessly.
I lifted her shoes up off the floor and showed her. “Helping you put on your shoes.”
Her face fell, and I knew I had her.
“After that, I’m going to give you this ring, and you’re going to put it on,” I said as I slipped first one shoe, and then the other onto her feet. “We’ll get married after the baby gets here, okay?”
She was giggling at that point.
“You had me at, ‘helping you put on your shoes,’” she said just before she launched herself from the bed, into my arms.
I caught her carefully, sinking to the ground until she was straddling my thighs, her big belly pressed up against my taught one.
“I love you more than tuna fish,” she said just before ripping the scrub top over her head, and then reaching for the vest that was on the bed behind her.
She slipped it on over her shoulders, and then tried in vain to button the thing.
She looked fucking sexy.
My name was on the back of her, and her tits were hanging out the front like ripe, juicy peaches. “God, you look sexy. I wish I could memorialize you like this forever.”
She smiled saucily at me. “I think that can be arranged.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked as I ran my bearded jaw along the side of her exposed neck.
She shivered and pressed in even closer. “I have to be at work in twenty minutes.”
Then she kissed me.
Her mouth was a hot, wet trap that sucked me in and wouldn’t let me go.
Her tongue played with mine. Teasing, licking,sucking.
Her teeth caught my bottom lip and nipped it gently.
I wasn’t a talker during sex; I was more of a doer.
In that moment, though, I wanted nothing more than to let her know just exactly how beautiful she was to me right then.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” I said as I ran my hands up the inside of her thighs, coming to a stop at the underside of her breasts.
“I have stretch marks,” she grimaced.
She did, that was no lie.
However, they didn’t detract from the beauty of her body.
I’d never been more turned on than when I finally started see a definite difference in her body.
