(A) – This story contains anal play, including anal intercourse.
Alec prepared my favorite pregnancy meal: homemade pizza! Aside from feeling more amorous than ever during this pregnancy, I wanted to show my appreciation for the pizza. About an hour later, in a sultry tone, I asked him, “How can I thank you for this delicious pizza?”
He replied, his voice dropping to a whisper, “You could pleasure yourself right here, right now.”
A flush spread across my cheeks as I held his gaze. My fingers trembled slightly as they traveled down my body, finding the warmth between my thighs. Even through the fabric, I could feel how ready I was.
He leaned forward, eyes darkening. “Would you mind pulling your panties down and doing this with your legs apart?”
I bit my lower lip and nodded, watching his pupils dilate as I followed his instruction.
He exhaled slowly, his hands gripping the edge of his chair. “The way you trust me, Ashley . . .” His voice caught. A bead of sweat formed at his temple as he watched me, transfixed.
I met Alec’s gaze, my voice barely above a whisper. “Our covenant is sacred to me.”
The fabric slid down my thighs, cool air kissing newly exposed skin. As I settled back into the chair, my knees fell open like petals. My fingertips traced lazy circles, each one drawing me deeper into a rhythm that made my breath catch.
My free hand gripped the armrest as heat bloomed across my chest. “Should I . . . ?” The question hung between us, unfinished but understood.
“Slowly,” he murmured, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I want to savor this.”
I glanced at the growing tension in his pants, the fabric straining against him. “Join me,” I whispered, feeling my lips part as my breath quickened. My fingers circled faster, heat building between my thighs. “I want to feel you . . . everywhere.”
Alec’s eyes darkened as he unbuckled his belt, the metal clinking in the quiet room. His breathing grew ragged as he took himself in hand, matching my rhythm.
The memory of prayer journals and whispered confessions with my youth group sisters flooded back—all those nights I’d lain awake, faithful to my promise, yet aching with need. Now, watching my husband’s face tighten with pleasure because of me, I felt victorious.
My back arched involuntarily as tension coiled tighter. Through half-closed eyes, I watched Alec’s movements become urgent, his muscles tensing.
His whisper broke: “I’m close.”
“Yes,” I gasped, tilting my face toward him, offering myself completely. “Cum on my face.”
His moan crescendoed into something primal, and then warmth splashed across my cheekbone, trickling down to the corner of my mouth. The scent of him—musky and intimate—filled my senses as I worked his essence into my flushed skin with deliberate circles of my fingertips. My other hand never stopped its rhythm between my thighs, where every touch sent electric currents radiating through my swollen flesh.
A new desire crystallized in my mind, shocking me with its clarity and urgency.
“I want to get on my knees,” I whispered, my voice husky with need, “and feel myself come apart while your finger explores somewhere I’ve never let you touch before—inside me, from behind.”
Pregnancy has transformed my body in unexpected ways, especially my desires. I’ve never been interested in anything anal before, but lately, my hormones have been steering my thoughts into uncharted territories, making me crave sensations I’d never considered.
When I suggested it, Alec’s eyes widened. “Use what’s on your face,” he said, voice husky with renewed desire.
I repositioned myself carefully, the weight of my rounded belly hanging beneath me as I settled onto my knees. The carpet pressed into my skin as I reached around the curve of my stomach, finding the slick, sensitive bud between my legs. My fingers began their familiar dance, sending ripples of pleasure through my lower body.
Behind me, Alec’s warm palm spread the cooling wetness from my cheek. His touch was tentative at first, circling the tight ring of muscle with gentle pressure. The unexpected sensitivity there made me gasp, my back arching involuntarily.
“More,” I whispered, surprising myself.
When his finger breached me, the strange fullness made me freeze momentarily. Then, as he pushed deeper, something electric happened—pressure against some hidden place inside triggered waves of sensation that converged with the building tension from my fingers. My body trembled, caught between the urge to push back against his intrusion and the need to surrender to the approaching climax.
The orgasm crashed through me like nothing I’d felt before—a whole-body earthquake that started deep inside and radiated outward until even my fingertips tingled with release.
By this time, Alec was fully erect again, his manhood standing at attention like a soldier awaiting orders.
I craved something I never thought I would—I wanted him to take me completely, to claim that final unexplored territory. The desire burned through me like wildfire, parching my throat with a thirst more desperate than any desert wanderer’s.
I told him what I desired.
“Are you absolutely sure?” Alec whispered, his voice husky with restraint. I glanced back over my shoulder, taking in the impressive sight of him—rigid and throbbing, veins prominent against flushed skin.
“Get more lubricant from the nightstand,” I breathed. A fleeting shadow of apprehension crossed my mind, but it dissolved instantly in the heat of my newfound hunger.
My fingers found their way between my legs again as Alec returned, the cool gel making me gasp as he applied it generously. The contrast of temperatures sent electric currents through my core, building toward another peak.
He positioned himself against me, the pressure both foreign and thrilling. Each millimeter of entry brought a complex symphony of sensations—sharp discomfort melting into unexpected pleasure. I pushed back against him instinctively, and he responded with a careful thrust.
“Gentle,” I whispered, though my body begged for more.
The next climax crashed through me like a tidal wave, tearing a primal scream from my throat that echoed off the walls. Every muscle from my core to my thighs contracted in violent pulses, each spasm sending lightning strikes of pleasure radiating outward until even my fingertips tingled with the aftershocks. My entire being—body, mind, and spirit—surrendered to the overwhelming sensation.
Alec’s breathing grew ragged behind me, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my hips. His deep, guttural moan vibrated against my back as he shuddered, his warmth flooding into me in rhythmic pulses.
“God,” he whispered, carefully withdrawing. I collapsed onto my side, watching through half-lidded eyes as he padded to the bathroom. When he returned, his skin glistened with a fine sheen of sweat in the dim light. He curled his body around mine, his palm coming to rest on the swell of my belly.
Despite the intensity we’d just shared, an insistent throb still pulsed between my legs. Was it the pregnancy hormones coursing through my veins, I wondered, or simply my body finally embracing its deepest desires?
“That was . . .” Alec’s voice trailed off, thick with satisfaction.
I turned to meet his gaze, a smile playing at the corners of my mouth. “You have no idea.”
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