Pregnant and Horny Suzy

Blonde

This story happened just before my 30th birthday, a few months before my first daughter was born.

I was happily married to the husband that I am still married to now, and who I went on to have two further children with. Whilst I was unfaithful to him, I didn’t feel guilty. I still don’t. It was one of the most erotic experiences of my life.

I was six months pregnant and working still as a head of faculty in a large college on the outskirts of west London. I felt huge and tired, unsexy and like the pregnancy had swallowed up my femininity: my always large breasts now felt engorged and heavy, the round curve of my belly made me feel fat. Fat seemed to have gathered on the curved bone of my hips.

I was sitting at my desk in my office, trying to work but I was uncomfortable. My breasts strained against the fabric of my formal work blouse, and the waistband of my smart skirt dug into my stomach. My feet ached in my high heels and I sighed as I eased them off. Just then there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” I called.

Gareth entered. Gareth was 22 and hadn’t been at our college long. I was his line manager and I knew that he was quiet and fairly shy. He wasn’t struggling exactly, but I knew that the job didn’t come easily to him.

He came into the room in a characteristically shy way- gaze cast down and his shoulders slightly slumped.

“You alright Gareth?” I asked, shifting my bulk in my seat.

“Yeah, thanks.” He replied. His eyes flicked up to me and back down again. He sat in the chair opposite my desk. “I just wanted those scripts back from you?” His Welsh accent sounded foreign, quaint here in London and whenever he spoke I fought the urge to smile.

I went to stand and as I extended to my full height to reach the folder Gareth needed, I stretched across the small office and was aware of his eyes on me. “God, you’re really showing now.” He said. I was surprised by his boldness, and smiled.

“Feeling it now.” I said, sitting back down. “Three months to go and I feel like a whale.” I passed the folder across to him and he took it and flicked through the pages.

“You look nice.” He said, suddenly shy again. I laughed, not for a second thinking he meant anything by it.

“That’s very kind of you to say and I will remember it in your appraisal, but I look like a wrestler.” I said absently, already scrolling back through my emails, anticipating that he would leave. It was his turn to smile now, and he said in the quietest voice imaginable,

“You were beautiful before but you’re twice as beautiful now. Don’t forget it.” And with that he got up and left.

I couldn’t stop thinking about what Gareth had said for the rest of the day. I was happily married, and had no desire for anyone else in my life but my husband, but as my pregnancy progressed I had become more and more sexually frustrated. My husband was worried about hurting me and despite my protestations as the months had gone on, he was less willing to be as open and adventurous as he had been in the bedroom. As my hormones surged I had resorted to self-gratification, getting home from work before my husband and using my powerful vibrator on my mardin escort aching clit.

I had never looked at Gareth sexually- he was just a young man who worked for me and who had barely entered my consciousness. But the more I thought about him, the more I appreciated his charms. He was tall, quite wiry but in a way that you could tell muscle tone was building. In five years time he would be muscly and well built. He had nice, wide shoulders and shining green eyes which were set off by his reddish hair which he tousled in a becoming fashion. He dressed nicely in casual checked shirts and chinos and the more I considered him, sat there at my desk, the more I longed to be able to lay back in indulge in the fantasy, my hands exploring my body as I did so.

An hour or so passed and I had gotten back down to work, my fantasy about my young colleague on hold until I could get home and indulge. Just then an email pinged onto my desktop.

From: Gareth McGee

Date: Mar 19, 2011 at 2:29 PM

Subject: Apologies

To: Suzanne Catton [email protected]

Hi Suzanne

I just wanted to apologise for the way I behaved in your office this morning. I shouldn’t have said you were beautiful. It was entirely unprofessional. It won’t happen again, sorry.

Best wishes

Gareth

I read the email and tried to make sense of it. Why had he felt the need to send it? Why was he embarrassed? But then why had I been fantasizing about him all morning? Had there been sexual tension in the room? I had thought it was the imaginings of a hormonal woman, but perhaps it wasn’t. Perhaps he had felt it too. Before I could think about it or stop myself I had hit reply and written back.

From: Suzanne Catton [email protected]

Date: Mar 19, 2011 at 2:32 PM

Subject: RE: Apologies

To: Gareth McGee

It was the nicest thing anyone has said to me in ages.

Suze

I sat staring at my reply, instantly regretting having sent it and drumming my fingers on the desk. Every minute that passed was torture and I imagined tribunals and sexual harassment cases and getting into a whole world of trouble. My inbox pinged.

From: Gareth McGee

Date: Mar 19, 2011 at 2:38 PM

Subject: Apologies

To: Suzanne Catton [email protected]

I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true.

Gareth

I was confused. Was he flirting? What was he saying? Why was he saying it? Nothing could happen- I was married, I was six months pregnant. So why was I feeling so hot under my stuffy work clothes? Why was I getting breathless and why were my nipples- the nipples on my uncomfortably large breasts- suddenly hard. I hit reply.

From: Suzanne Catton [email protected]

Date: Mar 19, 2011 at 2:41 PM

Subject: RE: Apologies

To: Gareth McGee

You’re making me blush.

S

Almost instantly he sent back:

From: Gareth McGee

Date: Mar 19, 2011 at 2:42 PM

Subject: Apologies

To: Suzanne Catton [email protected]

I would happily make you blush whenever you wanted.

G

My breathing was heavy now, marmaris escort laboured and I was definitely aroused. But where could this go? Impulsively I wrote back.

From: Suzanne Catton [email protected]

Date: Mar 19, 2011 at 2:45 PM

Subject: RE: Apologies

To: Gareth McGee

Come to my office after school. At 4.30.

S

I spent the rest of the afternoon feeling simultaneously excited and sick and aroused and guilty. I rang my husband and made small talk, wondering what the hell I was about to do, if I was being mad. No, I was definitely being mad. But at 4.30 what would happen? Would he even come? And then what? Furtive rubbing in my office? Snogging by the filing cabinet. A few times I decided to not be in the office when he came calling and then a few more times convinced myself that he would never turn up.

But as 4.30 came ever closer I was still in the office and found myself putting Chanel on my wrists and reapplying lipstick and mascara. And then, the excitement at fever pitch and my heart in my throat, at 4.28 he appeared in the doorway, gauche but gorgeous.

“Close the door.” I said. He did as I asked, raising the catch as he did so that the door was locked from the inside, and sat opposite me. “I’m sorry about all that silly emailing,” I began, “the truth is…” but he interrupted before I could finish.

“Suzy, I think you’re gorgeous.” He said. I stopped speaking and blushed. “I know you’re married and pregnant and it can’t go anywhere. But I have thought you were lovely since the day I walked in here a year ago and…I do think you’re gorgeous and if you need….something. Now. Some excitement. I want to…. Help.” I was stumped as to what I should say next, but instead leant over the table and kissed him, firmly on the mouth. In seconds he was up and out of his chair, pushing me back into mine and snogging the face off of me. I groaned into his mouth.

“I haven’t had sex in months.” I moaned as he continued to kiss me. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” He pushed his mouth harder onto mine.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He whispered, biting my lip. “Every week you grow bigger, curvier, I can’t keep my eyes off you.” Even in the midst of my lust I wondered if he had a fetish for pregnant women, and if that was sick. He pushed his hand into my blouse and felt my huge breasts. “Your tits, your arse, your belly….. they’re so fucking sexy.” He pulled at the buttons and my breasts were revealed in their lacy red bra. “I see you around the college and you turn me on so much.” I was so wet and so horny, I wanted him there and then, inside me, on top of me. I broke away from the kiss.

“We can’t do this here. Do you live on your own?” He withdrew from my face, standing with his erection obvious in his chinos. He nodded.

“Well not exactly but my flatmate- Jeremy- he won’t be back til after eight and it’s just around the corner.” I nodded and began to button up my blouse. “You could meet me there? In half an hour?” He was almost pleading, his voice sounded desperate. I nodded again and handed him a pad of post-its to write the address on.

An hour later and we were nevşehir escort in his room, naked and his head was buried in my tight, bald snatch. Tumbling into the room twenty minutes before, we had snogged on the bed before he undressed me, delicately but with such focus and lust that that itself had been painfully erotic. My pussy ached to be touched and as soon as I was naked he had kissed down from my breasts to the curve of my big belly and began licking the hairless folds of my neglected cunt.

For one so young he was adept at oral and delicately kissing and licking the flesh of my hard bud he had me cumming into his mouth after only minutes. I cried out as I came, bunching the bedclothes in my fists and kicking my feet. He brought his hot mouth back up to mine, and kissed me with salty, cunty breathe. I could feel his hard cock, large and veiny against my hip. He kissed my neck.

“This doesn’t have to be sex.” He said. “It can just be about you. I can just please you.” I groaned as he kissed my neck harder, but I needed to feel him inside of me. By way of an answer I eased myself down his body, more musculer than I had anticipated, and licked his cock from balls to head and eased it into my mouth. He yelped like a man who had been touched with a live wire and tangled his hands into my hair. Bobbing up and down on his tool, he moaned and groaned and soon his breathing was labored and I could feel his balls tighten in my hand. Withdrawing before he came, I moved and pushed myself down onto his hardness in one, fluid motion, my tight and wet cunt engulfing him and surrounding him. His hands were everywhere, exploring and enjoying my alien body, soft and hard at the same time, curves and bumps.

“You’ve never been sexier, Suzanne.” He gasped, calling me by my formal name, my work name, “You’re fucking beautiful.” His hands rubbed the roundness of my belly and as I bounced the fat thump of my tits timed the fuck like a metronome. I rubbed my hard clit and bounced and I came like a ton of bricks, crying out as my pussy convulsed and my head swam. My belly hardened and I maneuvered off of him, arranging myself on all fours.

“Do me from behind,” I purred, “And do it fucking hard.” Not wasting a second he gripped my shapely hips and drove his massive tool into me. He hit my cervix and I screamed out, “yeah just like that, fuck me hard you fucking pervert.” He slammed me, his balls slapping my clit and his thighs against mine. “You fucking like shagging a big, fat, pregnant woman, don’t you?” I gasped.

“You’re the sexiest slut I’ve ever fucking had.” He growled, edging me ever closer to a final, extraordinary climax. “I love your fucking huge tits and your round belly. I could fuck you all day. Rub your fucking clit and bring yourself off, you dirty bitch.” I rubbed and rubbed my hot button, savouring the feelings in my cunt and my clit and then it happened, the hugest cum of my life, my hormones and frustrations and Gareths exertions coming together so that I nearly passed out. Pulling his cock from deep within me, Gareth pushed me onto my back and stroking himself swiftly pulled himself one, two, three times before a stream of hot cock cream spurted from his balls and onto my baby-filled belly.

Putting on my clothes ten minutes later, Gareth was shy again.

“Thanks.” I said, picking up my handbag. “I really enjoyed that.”

“You’re welcome, Suzanne,” he said, quite formally, “I hope we do it again. Soon.”

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