Surrogate: Chapter 14
Initially, my spouse's first pregnancy with me could be separated into distinct weeks.
Week One - The Hormone Rush
The pregnancy readiness process entailed high levels of assorted hormones. The goal, and the reason behind the pills and injections, was to prepare her uterus. However, the unintended but not unforeseen consequence was an uncontrollable heightened sex drive.
She was insatiable. She constantly ate, drank, went to the toilet, and defecated while simultaneously yearning for sex. I would offer her food, kiss her as she sat on the toilet, present her with water or iced tea on the bedside table, and she would want, no, she would require sex.
I satisfied her with oral sex, and she would be quiet for a while but then wanted it again.
When she slept, worn out from what I had been doing to her with my mouth for an hour or so, I escaped, sneaking out, and called Dr. Jim on the porch swing.
He laughed about what was happening.
"Nothing's amiss," he insisted, and then broke into laughter once more.
"Look, David," he said, composed once more, "Drop by the CVS on Alsip Street. I'll call in a prescription for you."
"Prescription?" I questioned.
"Yes, David, a prescription," he clarified, and there was the chuckling yet again, "We'll begin with Viagra, and if that doesn't work well, shift to Cialis and Levitra."
"BONER PILLS?" I questioned.
He laughed again.
"David, Nancy is overwhelmed with hormones right now. To put it simply, Nancy is on an uncontrollable hormonal surge. It will pass, but if you wish to maintain her happiness until that time, take the pills, keep your penis hard, and love her."
"You're serious?" I inquired.
"David," he said, still chuckling, "There are countless men around the world who would trade places with you."
I laughed as well.
"Alright, Doc," I said, "Send in the prescription. I need to make it there before the sex machine wakes up and sets out on the prowl."
He giggled and said, "It's on its way, and I'll ask them to expedite the process."
I didn't precisely run to the drugstore but I didn't linger either. I was a bit unclear about what could happen if Nancy awoke, not finding me there.
The prescription was complete, and the pharmacist asked if it was my first time. I felt he examined me intently but I explained that my wife was pregnant and demanding and I needed assistance.
He provided me with a warning to be cautious and if the erection was indefinite, I had to visit the emergency room.
"How will I know?" I inquired.
He chuckled and said, "Trust me, a strong discomfort will inform you."
I hastened back and discovered Nancy in the kitchen, drinking iced tea and pacing like a caged beast.
"Where the hell...," she started and I interrupted her with a kiss.
"David, I...," but I cut her off again with a kiss and my hand on her back.
"Da...," but she stopped when I bent down and took her swelling lips into my mouth.
It was a blowjob, unquestionably. I sucked a mouthful of the soft tissue and commenced moving my head backward and forward, attempting to mimic a woman on her knees servicing a man.
And it functioned.
I perceived the rigidity of anger dissipate and be replaced by the rigidity of arousal.
When her fingers began running through my hair, indicating her orgasm was approaching, I slowed my actions with my mouth.
"Oh you asshole," she gasped, her fingers entangling my hair and pulling me to her.
I eased the pressure further, opening my mouth, breaking my grip on that supple tissue, simply holding her while my tongue probed gingerly.
"BABY!" she groaned, her fingers twisting in my hair now, yanking me to her.
I facilitated her climax, granting her the pleasure she desired while simultaneously satisfying my desire.
"That's right, darling," she said.
"Ooooooooh yes, just like that," she crooned.
"God, I adore your mouth," she confided.
The pressure on my fingers on her behind fell, prompting her approaching orgasm. I lessened the pressure, ending my lip lock on that tender tissue and exiting her mouth, only to accept her ejaculation on my face and in my hair, sensing it saturate the front of the T-shirt I wore.
When her breath became calm, I softly kissed her hanging lips. Then I stood up.
Her eyes widened when she saw my face, and then she giggled.
"Will you still kiss me?" I inquired.
She grinned, wrapped her arms around my neck, and drew me closer for a kiss.
"But, I'm not going to let you wash your face, you jerk," she whispered in my ear after we parted. "Now feed me; I'm eating for two."
During our first day together, she brought me to the bed, desiring intercourse in the missionary position following breakfast.
Around an hour later, she wanted it again, and I said, "Hold that thought," as I went to the bathroom and took a Viagra tablet.
The entire first day, she only permitted me to leave the bed to use the bathroom and prepare meals.
In total, I made love to her five times with pauses for nurturing and play in between.
Throughout the first week, she desired a variety of positions like doggie style, sometimes vaginally, and other times anally.
One day, she wanted to be on top with our legs crossed, occasionally facing me, and other times facing away from me.
Another day, it was mutual oral sex with her on top initially and then me on top with her hands on my buttocks, pulling me deeper, triggering her gag reflex, which led to enhanced climaxes.
During the final two days of the first week, she desired gentle, unhurried lovemaking in the missionary position.
The first week was fantastic with no instances of painful erections lasting four hours.
Week Two through Four - The Pukefest Period
In the second week, I awoke early while she swiftly dashed toward the bathroom.
I followed and found her on her knees, her limp arms resting on the toilet bowl, vomiting violently.
I brushed back her hair gently, a slight delay as, to my dismay, her hair tips were wet. I rubbed her back and waited patiently.
I admitted that the sight of her body working vigorously against the waves of vomiting with her back arched and her ass clenching was oddly attractive. The sheen of sweat on her skin made her even more alluring.
Exhausted from vomiting, she looked up at me and asked, "Is it wrong that I want you right now?"
She chuckled, "Pervert."
As she got tired, I comforted her for some time. Then, she left the bathroom, still unsteady on her feet, and emerged into the kitchen.
"Ready for breakfast?" I asked.
She glanced at me with a weak smile and responded, "I think some toast would suffice."
I prepared some oat bread toast, spread it with butter, and added her favorite strawberry jam.
"Funnily enough," she said, amused, "I could use one of your omelets."
So, I made her breakfast and fed her, finding great pleasure in her satisfied smile.
She had stabilized enough by this point, so we only made love twice, leaving the Viagra pills in the bottle.
On the second day of this phase, while she was retching and I was holding her hair back, I realized that I could smell her arousal. As I massaged her back, this time I also touched her genitals. True to my suspicions, she was wet and lubricated.
"Go ahead, Pervert," she said, groaning between heaves. "You said you wanted to."
So, I did.
Puke didn't deter us from engaging in sexual activity. On the contrary, it became part of our daily routine and was actually enjoyable. The sensation of her tense body during retching was intriguing. I could feel her cervix pressing against me, creating a unique texture for me.
Regrettably, I had to retrieve the Viagra bottle once more, as she continued to request sex several times a day.
Week Five through Fifteen - The Rage Period
The hormones then took over during the morning sickness.
As I approached her from behind to make love, it didn't go as planned.
Instead of submitting to my advances, she entered a rage. She pushed me away, screaming and kicking.
I tried to calm her down, but she just fought harder, biting and scratching me.
Trying to control her was fruitless. I eventually settled for letting her hit me in an empty corner, with tears streaming down her face.
She eventually tired and wept in my arms, exhausted from fighting.
"I think it's safe to say that this is the weirdest relationship I have ever been in," she said.
I simply responded, "I can't deny that."
Letting her cry it out, I wordlessly comforted her. When she was ready, she just smiled wearily and sighed, "I'm exhausted."
It was tough living through the rage-induced episodes but knowing that it was only temporary helped relieve the stress.
"Oh my goodness, you perverted bastard," she yelled at my back, "can't you let me pass away in peace?"
"Sorry, love," I began, but her retching cut me off.
The last seven days marked the longest we'd gone without intercourse. Calling her sullen would be an understatement - it'd be like describing the loaves and fishes as a quick takeout from McDonald's or Wendy's.
I walked on eggshells, every crackle of an eggshell triggering more anger.
After a week, she had a day-long crying fit, then pulled me to bed as if she'd just gotten out of a women's prison after a ten-year sentence. She rode me vigorously, cumming like a geyser, and then commanded I take a Viagra.
We made love four times that day, each time as energetic as the first. The fourth time I felt that distinctive friction and realized we'd fucked ourselves dry. When I tried to pull out, she held me close and said, "No, love, stay with me."
"We need the K-Y Jelly," I suggested.
"No, we don't," she insisted, chuckling. "Sometimes I like it to hurt," she muttered, pushing against me more forcefully.
The thing was, I couldn't climax, no matter how much she goaded me. I'd already come three times and the Viagra made me hard, but my testicles and prostate were depleted.
And even with Viagra, I was tiring. You know, fucking like that is physically taxing. Those muscles in my lower back were burning, and I felt little muscle twinges in my thighs.
She reached her climax suddenly and dramatically.
The sound she made was a long drawn-out "eeeeEEEEEEEEEEE" increasing in pitch until I expected the dogs to start barking. Her fingers dug into my ass, keeping me with her, while she came in waves, that sound swelling into just a gasping breath.
When she finally relaxed.
I wanted to say something like, "Of course, I'll stay," but she continued her apology.
"I'm sorry, Honey, I've been a bitch, I know," she kept repeating until she finally calmed down, her fingers still digging into my ass.
We comforted each other, her apologizing, me assuring her that it was fine, her keeping me close and confiding in me until she fell asleep.
Weeks 16 to 30 - Cravings and Craziness
I noticed, as I woke up and watched her sleep, something I did almost every day, how she was changing. Since this morning, the pregnancy concept was no longer abstract. Now, right before my eyes, was reality.
I hadn't paid much attention before, despite the raging episodes, but she wasn't the one screaming, so I wasn't to blame.
But now, I took the time to observe her. The baby bump, which was still quite small, had replaced the wrinkles and soft pouch in the lower belly. Below it, her pubic mound was expanding, gearing up for delivery. She was putting on weight for two - pounds at her hips and on her arms.
Another development was a mass of coarse curly hair in her underarm. What really surprised me was a single hair sprouting from under her chin.
I just gazed at her, admiring the changes in my adored, and feeling satisfied with what I saw.
Her eyes slowly opened and I stroked her baby bump.
"You are beautiful," I murmured.
She smiled, satisfied.
"Lower," she directed slowly, her body loosening, her inner lips visibly swollen.
I moved my hand down, touching the soft mound.
"Lower," she asked, in a seductive tone, With the baby's growth and the changes in her body, her labia were showing more visibly. I rubbed gently, feeling how smooth and slick they were.
I then repositioned myself to enter her, kissing her all over her face before declaring how beautiful she was. Oh, I would never have put it better myself. Such deep and genuine appreciation!
"Compliment me," she whispered, her eyes closed and a smile on her lips.
As I began a slow, gentle pace, I began to do just that.
"You're stunning," I said, and I gave her a kiss.
"You're breathtaking," I said, and I traced the contours of her ear with my tongue.
"You're a goddess," I said, and I rubbed her eyelids. "You're a fertility goddess," I said, giving her cheeks a kiss, "and you're a woman distilled into one celestial being," I said, brushing my lips against hers, the softest touch.
She chuckled at the last one.
"Celestial being?" she inquired, looking up at me, her arousal building.
"You're divine," I continued, pressing a kiss to her nose. "You're flawless," I said, caressing the spot under her chin, "you bring life," I whispered as I nuzzled the line of her jaw up to her ear.
She climaxed then, a gentle orgasm. I could feel her gripping me, and her body pulsing, soaking my erection and the inside of her. She caught her breath.
I didn't rush, I kept that steady pace, covering her mouth with mine and making it a minute-long kiss.
My ejaculation was as gentle as her orgasm had been. I kept the rhythm, without throwing in the quick, final strokes to bring it all to a climax. Instead, as she had done, I flowed into her.
I'd placed my palms on her cheeks. My arms were raised enough that I could focus on her eyes. And I held her gaze as my own gentle release flowed into her.
Both of our eyes were wide.
Later that day, she demanded my attention. With me pinned to the bed, her hands captured my wrists and held them so she could straddle me, thrusting hard and roughly.
Her breasts bounced and jiggled as the pregnancy hormones were making them heavy with milk, preparing her body to nourish the baby. The vitamins I was taking each day kept me hard. I watched as she had her second orgasm of the day.
When she climaxed, it was powerful and wet, and there was a faint scent of urine.
Spent and panting, she collapsed on her back, crossed her arms over her chest and demanded, "Broccoli and chocolate syrup."
I knew better than to question her at that point. I gave her a kiss, stood up, pulled on my jeans, and headed for the supermarket.
When I returned home, she was sitting at the kitchen table, naked and grumpy.
"Jesus Christ!" she yelled, "What's taking you so long?"
I smiled, gave her a kiss, and arranged the huge head of broccoli and the squeeze bottle of Hershey's dark chocolate syrup on the table in front of her.
"I adore you," she said, the anger fading.
The last trimester was a blessing.
Despite the unusual food combinations - like liver and marshmallow cream, or ice cream with ketchup - I knew I hadn't made a mistake by marrying her.
The first night, laying there content after making love to her, I felt the child moving underneath me. It was instant arousal - from soft to hard in a second. And I found myself falling in love - with her, and with the baby - in a way I'd never expected. I found myself loving the changes in her body, wondering what life would be like for this baby she was carrying. When we gave it up to its new parents, there were tears as I held her, and we cried together. I tried to explain how I felt but she just held me close.
We both cried again.
During her final trimester, her distended belly made her clumsy and sluggish, yet it was full of unique moments. Many of them were semi-erotic. Her morning routines included me wiping her since she couldn't reach properly. Our morning showers involved me doing all the cleaning while making her laugh when I could. I admired the newly grown tufts of hair daily, no longer viewing them as a curse thanks to me discarding, or stashing away on a top shelf, her razor. With pregnancy, she developed an impressive set of pubic and underarm hair, leaving the rest of her quite furry. I enjoyed it all.
I did her hair and makeup every morning, helped her dress, and put her shoes on - a task she couldn't handle by herself.
Every pregnancy has its own quirks, but this first one was particularly exhausting for her. Her sleeping pattern was off, and even on decent days, she was always cranky. She struggled with extreme diarrhea that left a mess for me to clean up, or constipation that demanded excessive doses of laxatives and enemas, a task requiring intimacy.
Her feet ached constantly, and I massaged away the Charlie horses in her calves.
Yet, her body continued to grow more beautiful.
Her breasts, already substantial, swelled further due to the cocktail of pregnancy hormones. Now overflowing her D-cup bras, they became even softer. Her nipples, already large and dark, were eternally hard and leaking.
It was her swollen belly that elevated her to a goddess instead of simply an attractive pregnant woman. Although low-set, her belly expanded as she consumed everything in sight, gaining weight not just in her belly but also in other parts. Her thighs thickened right at the crease where they rubbed together. Her formerly slender waist expanded significantly until her hips became smaller. Her mons grew larger as her outer skin thickened and her inner lips hung even more dramatically. Her thighs gained fat and softened between her hips and knees, developing deeper cellulite dimples, but her calves and ankles remained unchanged.
She epitomized Mother Earth and she was captivating.
Delivery
The due date arrived, and I had to arrange my schedule to be at home. I managed to convince the university to let me complete my semester through independent study, so I could care for Nancy, write papers in history, economics, earth science, and political science all at the same time.
I would write a paper while she needed assistance standing and walking to the bathroom or bed. Then it was back to work on another paper.
Well, and help her achieve an orgasm. She believed that a powerful orgasm would prompt labor. The experience had a mechanical vibe; I would either masturbate her until she climaxed or go down on her. We tried the "L" position, a tight fit with her size.
I told her how stunning she looked, how much I cherished her, and she would respond with mumbled "Thank you, Baby."
Late in her pregnancy, we reached a low point six days after her due date. She requested my presence in the bedroom and I witnessed, immediately, that she had been crying.
She expressed, "This will likely be my last baby."
"Why?" I inquired.
This comment infuriated her, so I sensed it as a positive development after the prolonged lethargy she had been experiencing.
"Because this one isn't budging!" she shouted.
I suppressed my laughter, and remained silent until my reaction let me down, displaying it on my face.
She glared at me, impatiently demanding, "You find this hilarious?!"
I clamped my jaws, holding back the roaring laugh bubbling inside me.
She then softened her glare to a confused look, and then smiled and shared in my humor.
We let out hysterical laughter, the relaxation of tension permeating the room.
She suddenly shoved me back, gazing into my eyes intensely.
"Oh, damn," she whispered.
"What?" I inquired, now worried.
Then she chuckled.
"My water just broke," she shared.
Read also:
- Chapter 3: The Submission Seat
- The X Files X encompasses the mysterious world of paranormal investigations.
- Queen's Service
- Tainted [headline or description redacted]
Source: www.nice-escort.de