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“The doctor said you could go into labor anytime,” he said, and I could tell he was keeping his excitement tightly in check.
“You can’t get excited about every Braxton-Hicks contraction,” I said, but I felt my breath begin to hitch as his sure fingers moved to stroke my pussy.
“Yes, I can,” said Beau, and his eyes were shining. “Because I love everything about breeding you, El, and I plan to do it over and over again.”
He had a hand on my skirt when his eyes flicked up to my breasts and I saw his eyes widen. He suddenly jumped up, running a big finger across my nipple.
“Oh, you’re leaking!” he said, his voice rough.
I looked down in surprise, and he pulled down my top, a groan ripped from his throat as he saw a big wet spot on my bra.
“I’ll pull out the milk so you’re ready for our baby,” he said, and he bent his head down and put his mouth on my nipple, gently sucking it. I felt a surge of lust, my pussy twitching with need, as I watched him.
“God, Beau,” I moaned, watching him draw my nipple into his mouth over and over again, so eager that the warm breastmilk was spilling out of the corners of his mouth and running down my breasts.
I felt his hands shaking on the chair below me, forcing himself to go slowly, his tongue following each rivulet of milk across my breasts, his tongue dipping between my breasts to eagerly lap up anything there.
“Please,” I gasped, feeling the need for release build in me.
He paused, and I saw his breath coming in heavy pants. He gave each breast one last lick and kissed me, his breath sweet, his tongue warm and milky.
Then he flipped up my skirt and bent to my pussy, wet and flushed with need for him.“Let’s send you into labor, Mrs. de la Fontaine,” he said, and I closed my eyes as I burned under the heat of my husband’s obsession.
THE END
