Message-ID: <17055eli$9811080533@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: jacquilyn@hotmail.com (Jackie) Subject: New Story: "My Sweet Hottie" (f/M, preg, teen, milk, handjob) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: jacquilyn@hotmail.com Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <36446df5.5163114@nntp.concentric.net> New Story: "My Sweet Hottie" (f/M, preg, teen, milk, handjob) This story contains graphic descriptions of a female/Male handjob, a few licks of oral sex, and graphic sexual descriptions. If you are: a) Under 18 years old b) Offended by any of those graphic actions c) Feel these are against your Community Standards Please STOP reading and IMMEDIATELY LEAVE and CLOSE this file !!!!! ================================================ My Sweet Hottie (Copyright 1998) by Jackie (an338903@cris.com) Better than anything, I sooo love making my hottie of three years, Bruce, explode using only my two little hands. My 14-year-old grrly bod always grows mega-aroused whenever his stiff swollen spear starts vigorously ramming through my clenched little fist, guttural grunts and groans continuously echoing from between his widely parted, gasping lips. Without touching myself, my undulating bottom quickly becomes almost as wet as his drooling spear. Before I'm half finished satisfying him, my underpants are always soaking wet, molding to my clean-shaven little cunny like a second skin. That almost- transparent soggy lace then vividly displays both plump pouting hills along side my deep, dark, and no-longer virginal valley. Since you can't see my young grrly body, I must confess that I'm over 8 months pregnant with his baby ~~ hey, I'm really not ashamed, well, not anymore anyway. Everybody all over town knows. It's hard to see this waddling beachball with two tiny hands and feet sticking out, and not instantly comprehend, maybe even giggling or snickering. Also, I NEED to make you understand that I am NOT a slut. My hottie and I ONLY fucked ONCE !! And that time, he wasn't even all the way up inside my tiny teenaged cunny, only his bloated purple head was inside ~~ it had hurt too much. Even so, he squirted sooo viciously that I thought his searing seed would blast out my tiny gasping mouth, erupting like a white gooey geyser. I knew that every inch of my tender virginal insides was thoroughly coated with gallons upon gallons of his potent baby-making juices. I cried that entire night, but it didn't help. That ONE time was all my young over-ripe baby-factory needed. It didn't matter to his sperm one little bit that my poor grrly body was only 13 years old, maybe it even enjoyed impregnating my tiny innocent eggs even more. His mighty seed had exploded up into my little-grrl womb, making my taut tummy bulge, and that was that. Within two short months, I knew I was right. My firm flat belly swelled up twice as large as it should have been. It was like somebody had jammed this wicked air hose up my you-know- where, then slowly opened the valve. Both my rounded titties began inflating bigger TOO. Mommy isn't happy about it, but there's nothing she can do now, AND she was pregnant at only fifteen with ME. I am not only resigned to my baby-producing fate, but now, very happy about it. Bruce and I plan on getting married next spring after he graduates from high school ~~ won't Mommy be surprised. Every time we secretly meet like this, a part of me sooo wants to completely please him, after all he is my hottie, while another part fully enjoys the power my tiny hands have over his muscular 17- year-old football-player bod. A petite little grrl like me, only 4" 11", fully controlling a husky football-player over 6' 3" and sooo very wide and hard makes me proudly glow. Well actually, not all of me is petite ~~ my still-perky titties are mega-full and super-rounded D-cups, up from their normally bloated C-cups. On my previously-petite bod, those bulging C- cups had looked like over-inflated balloons glued onto my chest. Now with my swollen baby-belly jutting so far out, even the bigger D-cups don't look abnormal. At only 4 months pregnant, both swollen titty-spheres began oozing warm sweet Mommy's milk, or maybe it was just colostrum ~~ I don't really know the difference. For the last 3 months, I have constantly teased my hottie with them, proudly calling both my "milkers." I know Bruce really loves that ~~ I can see it written all over his greatly lusting face. Whenever my hottie roughly squeezes my taut bloated "milkers," four or five white dribbles powerfully run down each monstrous mountain just like melting vanilla ice cream in the hot summer sun. They haven't really squirted yet, but I'm just waiting for the day when he gets surprised with an eye, or face, full of warm wet Mommy's milk as he roughly plays. Even with my gigantic pregnancy, both bloated milkers still float in the air, hovering, not yet sagging the least little bit. Ever since they began so obscenely sprouting, bursting way off my flat little- grrl chest at only 10 years old, I have ALWAYS passed the "pencil test." Pregnancy hasn't as yet changed that, though I suspect breast-feeding will. My two super-dark areolas have always been extra-large and puffy. Even before my titties began so obscenely blossoming, both were dark reddish-brown quarters on my pale flat chest, two indecent little mounds straining outwards. They constantly beckoned other grrl's eyes, making them jealous and embarrassing me big-time whenever I changed for gym class and showered afterwards. Now though, both look simply gigantic. They have swollen larger than silver dollars, covering the entire front halves of my two buoyant milkers. They look like twin bull's eyes painted on my constantly bobbing chest, ever so lewdly showing through a thin white tee-shirt. Both milkers also possess mega-long dark-reddish-brown nips on their tips, true "spouts," thick around as my wiggling thumbs. Even now, both are the wrinkled rubbery kind, looking like they've already suckled whole car-loads of babies for eons. I think they're inherited from my dark Mediterranean grandmother. She birthed twenty-six children during her long life ~~ the first baby when she was only 11 years old and the last ones, twins, at 58 years old !! Those last babies had to stretch their tiny little mouths super-wide just to squeeze her now-monstrous nipples inside ~~ even those toddler-sized baby bottle nipples are way, way smaller. One of Mommy's sisters breathlessly confided that entire story to me after seeing the long, thick, and dark protrusions sprouting on my young grrly chest when we were changing into our bathing suits together. Who says wymyn don't "check out" other wymyn when they change. And this was even before I became pregnant. Those two rubbery spouts have swollen even longer and fatter. Psst, I still think Mommy's sis was a little jealous. Her two were nowhere near as delicious. Still, I am very afraid of how my two long thick spouts will look after I've finally birthed our baby grrl. Both are already well over an inch in length when only partially erect, which is almost- always. Will they blossom even longer, maybe up to 2 or 3 inches in length, looking more like a cow's or a goat's floppy teats ?? Will they grow fatter, resembling two hand-rolled dark and rich Havana cigars ?? They're already the proper color. Either way, I'm sure both will always jut out into next week, looking wildly obscene in any tight tee-shirt or a form-fitting sweater, twin 55-caliber bullets indecently trying to poke all- the-way through. Even after I stop breast-feeding, I'll have to wear triple layers of nursing pads to even partially hide them from view. Believe it or not, my beachball belly now juts out even farther than both buoyant milkers, feeling hard as a rock. When my midwife measured me a month ago, my "waist" was over 50" around !! It must be even wider by now, but I'm too afraid to measure it. Since my cute teeny-bopper waist used to be a slim and trim 26", my whopper of a belly has almost doubled in girth. By the time that baby belly is done ballooning, it will probably have blossomed as round as I am tall. None of my clothes fit anymore, but sometimes I can adapt. For example, I wear my favorite pair of shorts with the fly zipped all the way down, well below my bikini pantied crotch, only a pair of bright red suspenders holding them up. My nekkid beachball belly juts out for miles between that lewdly-open zip, rudely shoving those two denim flaps far to the side. My only extra-long white tee-shirt modestly covers and hides both my grossly swollen belly and that wide-open zip, but lately, just barely. This beautiful baby-belly has blossomed sooo huge that I not only have to slink and shimmy into previously-large tee ~~ my poor preggie bod bouncing and bobbing every which way, but its hem keeps ending up higher and higher with each passing day. Even after strenuously tugging it down, puffing and panting, that over-sized tee tightly wraps around my rounded sphere like this sexy mega-tight sheath dress. Its material stretches ever so snugly, molding and hugging my pregnant bobbing belly-flesh like a second skin, but I've decided, I'm NOT buying larger clothes !! I'd have to buy petite PLUS sizes, aaauugghh, NO way. Also dressed like that, my sweet hottie, really, REALLY enjoys showing me off to all his guy-friends. He's sooo proud that he almost gets a "pregnant glow" too. Believe me, "clothes that usta fit" are an everyday occurrence for the beachball-belly set. I've quickly grown used to it, but most guys never seem to, constantly ogling both my engorged titties and whopper of a belly through clothes that don't hide a single bump ~~ my prominently popped belly-button now looks like this long thick third nipple. I usually blush when I catch them staring, but secretly, I'm blushing not only from embarrassment but with pride and a constantly simmering sexual heat. Bruce once whispered, not so softly mind you, that with my bellybutton so wickedly jutting far out and with that white tee so tightly hugging my well-rounded beachball belly, it looked like I had this humongous bouncing "boobie" bursting out my abdomen. And, he told me THAT in the MIDDLE of a crowded mall with people all around, where I couldn't do anything about it or even cover my wobbling belly up. I couldn't even punch him, much less waddle away and hide, but I DID turn beet red, looking all around to see who had heard his pronouncement. Making matters worse, the ragged breathing from my total embarrassment made that "boobie" bounce and bob even more, my bellybutton stalk creating an even taller tent in that tee. >From that day on, I have always wondered if that's how many of those leering guys view my mega-rounded beachball belly. Not as a womb with wonderful life growing inside, but simply as a gigantic super-firm and perfectly rounded bouncing "boobie." Over the last few months, my sweet and innocent grrly mind has slowly grown used to that new feeling, and so many others. I now proudly enjoy most stares, lecherous looks, and at times, even the hoots and "cat calls" ~~ hey, it's their problem, NOT mine. It's surprising how having strange doctor after strange doctor touch and inspect every inch of your nekkid pregnant body will swiftly change your shy outlook. They could march a whole Army platoon in and it wouldn't bother me anymore, so lewd stares from strange horny guys are nothing. Now-a-days dressed like that, if some guy knelt very low in front of me, that extra-long tee has risen enough that he could vividly see that my zipper was fully unzipped, well below my smoldering crotch. His peeking eyes could also vividly see the huge super- rounded lower-expanse of nekkid belly-flesh proudly jutting through, ugly purple stretch marks and all. I've never caught anyone peeking, guy or grrl, but if they want to go to all that trouble, it's ok with me. I'd just angelically smile, maybe even let my beachball belly wobble around in front of them while firmly tapping my toes, like I was impatiently waiting for someone, totally oblivious to what they were doing. Within minutes, I'm sure that my cute clean-shaven cunny would ever so obscenely moisten, waves of tingles swiftly zipping throughout my entire boldly bouncing bod. Speaking of purple stretch-marks, Bruce surprisingly loves those zillions of ugly purple stretch-marks that populate the obscenely- curved underside of that gigantic beachball. When I lie flat on my back, that firm bloated sphere proudly wobbles high in the air, like this yummy pink-passion-fruit J-ello mold. That's the good news. The bad news is that, in actuality, from the bottom, it looks like this barren red-clay hill, completely raped and eroded after a torrential 100-year rain. Deep snaking gullies and ravines cover every inch from my sprouted bellybutton to my smoothly-shaven puffy young cunny. Well, maybe not quite that bad, but that's how it appears to me when I inspect it in the mirror each and every day. Still, my hottie loves it. Lying flat on my back like that, his wet wiggling tongue slowly traces each and every dark purple stretch- mark. Its naughty red-hot tip makes my over-inflated beachball so strongly shiver, again and again, like this monstrous mountain in the throes of an 8.9 earthquake. At times, my petite bod shudders with a small climax from only his wiggling and squiggling tongue. To make matters even worse, my bellybutton obscenely popped way out about two weeks ago. It now constantly juts out like this tiny stalk, looking like a little-grrl's cute pinkie, at times twirling all around when I wildly giggle, talk about a belly laugh. There is absolutely no way to hide it anymore ~~ it bulges through my clothes, thin or thick, showing this very obscene bump. Whenever I'm blushingly nekkid, Bruce loves to play with that twirling stalk too. He so hotly teases me, kissing and sucking on it just like he does my thick pointed nips. Many days, he'll suck that mommy-to-be stalk deeply into his warm wet mouth, holding it captive for many long minutes. His super-talented tongue excitedly tweaks and strums it, over and over again. I wriggle so very breathlessly all around on the bed, hot sticky juices running down my smooth shivering thighs from my over-heated clean-shaven cunny. More than once, my beachball belly has ended up with this large hickey all around my sprouted bellybutton from his naughty super- strong suckling. Even so, God, did all that wild wanton suckling, lapping, and tweaking feel ever so good. But I'm jumping all around, just like his horny baby-maker usually does. *giggle* When my 30-year-old Mommy isn't home ~~ Daddy split years ago, my fun begins as soon as Bruce sneaks over. Mommy doesn't approve of him, not even close, so we can't get together as often as my horny body would like, especially since I'm in such a "motherly way." Usually, my hottie arrives after a very vigorous workout either at the high school gym or just shooting hoops with his guy-friends. I always lovingly prepare for him, taking a super-soothing and sensuous bath. Every grrly inch of my 14-year-old bod smells like an exotic tropical rain forest, and feels smooth as silk. My youthful flesh glistens from the body-mist I liberally spray on. I dress up in a very lacy and deeply-plunging black bra and a pair of semi-transparent jet-black bikini panties ~~ nothing else. I keep this super-sexy underwear well-hidden from Mommy, only hand washing them. Mommy still treats me like such a little grrl, white cottons with blue balloons and all that, even though I'm so hugely, and proudly, pregnant. My hottie gave me this erotic lingerie about a year and a half ago, when my gigantically pregnant body was sooo much smaller. I was wearing, or should I say "wasn't wearing," it that afternoon when he pumped me sooo full of his potent baby-making juices that my cute little tum-tum very visibly swelled. By now, both petite bra cups are filled-to-bursting, my twin titties having engorged well over a full cup size. Those wicked bra straps now cut deep furrows in my shoulders, BUT he likes that special black lace on me sooo much, especially now that my body sooo sensuously spills out ~~ on both ends. *giggle* Now-a-days, I only wear low-cut bikinis instead of my little-grrl cottons, constantly fighting with Mommy about it. Innocent little- grrl cottons with their cute red hearts or blue balloons look sooo ridiculous on my body with my hugely pregnant belly jutting all the way out into next week. I am not a little grrl anymore !! Low-cut bikinis hang under my beachball belly. They neither chafe my acres of tender flesh nor only stretch halfway up, then slowly inch downward as I waddle until a very uncomfortable lump of underpants forms in my now-puffy crotch. Bikinis also allow my entire beachball belly to remain completely bare, that round glistening sphere proudly, but ever so lewdly, protruding far out. Bruce adores my gigantic belly too, always touching and caressing. Whether people are looking or not, he boldly slips his hot groping hand up under the tight form-fitting tops he insists that I wear when we're together. I guess that's ok, HE is the baby's Daddy and we definitely are hip n' happenin'. His loving displays constantly show me, and everyone nearby, how much he thoroughly enjoys my mommy-to-be look. I have this feeling that unless I strongly protest ~~ and I won't, there will be another baby, or maybe babies, blossoming inside me very soon after this one is born, making this bloated beachball belly balloon even bigger, if that is humanly possible. Except for my pouty fire-engine-red lips, my young grrly face is completely devoid of makeup. My hottie enjoys me looking innocent, youthful, and fresh, though with my super-engorged milkers and pregnant beachball belly, the first is getting harder and harder to achieve. My shaking hands almost braid my waist-length blond hair into cute little-grrl pigtails, capped by pink ribbons. At the last minute, though, I decide to leave it long and curly, a shimmering and constantly flowing golden curtain, shyly giving only quick peeks of my adolescent grrly charms. For a finishing touch, I slip my bare feet with their scarlet-painted toes into a pair of Mommy's 5" black T-straps, not exactly little-grrl- like, but hey, I'm mixing and matching today. I do have to be super careful in them cause my whopper of a belly has completely changed my balance. No stockings or garters, as Bruce enjoys my smooth shiny legs totally bare. This hugely pregnant body meets him at the door just like that ~~ only lacy bulging bra, sheer petite panties, and black heels. Two horny hands swiftly yank him inside, giving that door only enough time to close and be securely locked. My hottie is seldom surprised by my horny heated actions anymore. He simply blames them on all those preggie hormones swirling through my bloated body. Unknown to him, it's sooo much more ~~ a compelling cocktail of grrly lust, undying love, and pure animalistic yearnings. I instantly drop to my knees, my bare beachball belly sinking deeply between my smooth nekkid thighs. My long blond hair dangles down loosely, in large curly ringlets, almost to where my slim and trim waist used to be. It frames in gleaming yellow that sexy black lingerie as Bruce hotly gazes down from above. His baby-blues quickly glaze over, becoming swirling molten spheres, twin whirlpools. Even though I haven't done a single thing yet, he knows what's about to happen, his muscular bod reacting faster and better than one of Pavlov's trained dogs. With a single strong grrly tug, his loose denim shorts become puddled round his ankles, but I leave his white boxers on. There is nothing more exciting than watching my hottie's potent baby- maker swell in his boxers or jockeys, slowly pushing them farther and farther out, creating this mega-obscene tent. I lingeringly lean in towards him, both bloated milkers now almost touching his hairy muscular thighs. Softly mewing, I rub my pink cheek up and down that swelling bulge, like a cute contented kitty marking her exclusive territory. My cheek clearly feels that fleshy tube wiggle and jump, thoroughly enjoying my cheek's radiating warmth and its molding sensuous pressure. Some days, he's dirty and sweaty, his groin emitting such a manly scent; other days, freshly shaved and showered. Either way, I adore the masculine smells encircling his muscular body like a dark and powerful erotic cloud, slowly mixing with my trusting tropical rain forest scent, just as our two bodies intertwined on that "special" day. I'll never tell him, but in all honesty, I like him better dirty and sweaty. I always resist the urge to tug those loose snow-white boxers down too, so wanting to bury my impatient nose in his firm clean-shaven groin. Yes, I adore him clean-shaven down there, the same as my cute little-grrl cunny. To me, the lack of black puffy curls makes his fleshy tool look sooo much longer and much more impressive, wobbling all around like this wicked white T-ball bat. He's really not that huge, only a little bigger than average, but seeing that spear totally bare, all the way down to its thick root, makes him appear more gigantic, greatly exciting my horny heated bod. Before pulling back, my moist heated lips firmly and lingeringly kiss that turgid tube through those sweaty boxers, gently nibbling on its spongy lusting flesh. My fluffy painted pillows not only clearly feel its softness, but also the pounding pulsations expanding it longer and thicker with each and every passing second. After pulling back, both lips muffle a cute grrly-giggle. Both eyes clearly see the bright red smudge where my painted pillows had so greedily suckled. There's absolutely no doubt that it's a lip-print. "My love-brand on his pure white boxers," I softly and proudly giggle, shivering even more. To more quickly increase its naughty swelling, I knee-walk in even closer. My big, beautiful, and bobbing baby-belly obscenely leads the way, roughly pushing between his shaking calves and knobby knees. That super-solid sphere shoves his hairy legs farther and farther apart. I'm slowly spread-eagling those legs, stretching the elastic waist-band of those poor denim shorts around his ankles wider and wider. Suddenly, my knees are on top of his overstretched denim shorts, not allowing his ankles to move anywhere ~~ he's caught and definitely MINE. One of his hands frantically grabs the door knob behind him so he doesn't loose his balance. With my bloated pregnant belly tightly stuffed between his shaking legs, the tips of my black lace-covered milkers stop less than an inch from his hairy thighs. Both erect spouts feel the erotic electricity jumping from their rubbery points to his muscular thighs, making every one of his curly hairs stand on end. That alone makes his thigh muscles quiver even more. Squeezed in position, my hot sweating hands lewdly begin rubbing up and down the front of his nekkid still-quivering thighs, feeling his soft curly leg hairs and forcing his very manly body to strongly tremble. I even let my hot shivering finger-tips sneak up both boxer shorts' legs, but just a little. Even pregnant, I AM such a tease, and ever sooo good at it, or so Bruce has told me. *giggle* My happy gleaming eyes intently watch his baby-maker swell and wiggle under those loose boxers. Even clean-shaven, it no longer looks like a little boy's toy, swiftly outgrowing anything that might be termed "little." First, it creates a rippled ridge under that very thin material, then mightily lifts up and out, obscenely pushing that snowy-white fabric farther and farther out, almost reaching my parted panting lips. Its dark purple head now vividly shows through, ever so brightly, making my moistening cunny quiver, while my hottie only softly groans. My eyes can clearly see wet spots forming on those boxers making them even more transparent. His swelling baby-maker is already drooling with manly lust. "Before we're done, his boxers may be wetter than my panties," I giggle to myself, adding, "That would be a switch." His beastly shaft thrashes all around in those confining boxers, its fabric cage. First, it bolts left, then right, then bobs up and down ~~ kind-of jerking, valiantly trying to escape. Every spot it touches, that swollen purple plum leaves either a gooey wet spot or a trail of hot manly drool. Actually, Bruce isn't the only one having problems with "wet spots." My wrinkled areola can feel a growing wet circle forming on each black bra cup ~~ my monster spouts are leaking again, probably caused by my heightened arousal. Also, the padded-crotch of my sheer-lace panties is becoming very wet and soggy. My nose easily smells my womynly scent all the way up here, so I'm sure Bruce smells it too. All my soft heated giggles, only inches away, make that hardening spear bolt, bounce, and bob even more frantically. It reminds me of a maniacal mole burrowing through the soft ground leaving trail after bulging trail on the previously-flat soil. Leaning back against the door jamb, Bruce quickly reaches down to help that poor thing escape. "No hands," I softly tell him. "It has to find its own way out," I add grinning, then again very seductively giggle. He deeply sighs, then loudly groans, in pure animalistic frustration. That swelling purple head quietly begs, then suddenly looses its patience, frantically pushing and shoving at those mega-taut and semi-transparent boxers. After many long frustrating minutes, that drooling plum finally escapes, violently popping thru his now- overstretched fly into the hot sexually-charged air. That jumping shaft points straight as an arrow, without the slightest little curve. I am now eye-to-eye with his bobbing and fully circumcised one- eyed monster. From only inches away, that surly purple plum looks simply gigantic to my wide-open little-grrl eyes, slowly jutting closer and closer on its swelling fleshy stem, stalking my face like delicious prey. That plump velvet head diabolically glares, puffing up fatter and fuller right before my eyes. Fear swiftly flashes across both my eyes, becoming an uncontrollable shiver running up and down my spine. It senses my fear, wickedly winking that single eye at me. Its hugely overhanging collar, mushroom-shaped, turns an even darker purple. Its smooth fleshy hood spreads farther out as its plump head balloons. That wide rim rears up at me for not helping it escape, feverishly twitching from its smoldering lust, then flaring with a deep primal and animalistic need. At times, that oval puckered eye lewdly hisses at me, sometimes spitting too. My poor defenseless pregnant bod freezes in position, on my knees, shivering even more. Safe in my wobbling beachball belly, even our unborn baby trembles a little too. Though my shaking fingers haven't even touched it yet, my petite 14-year-old body strongly feels its awesome power. Its battering- ram virgin-slaying might sends waves of fear flowing throughout my still-frozen body. Deep down inside, I truly know it won't intentionally hurt me, but that doesn't mellow its awesome power and my primal fear. Each of my thin blond hairs stands on end, while my creamy flesh trembles almost as hard as that monster now brutally bounces. My cute clean-shaven cunny-slit, though, juices even harder, more from heated lust or fervid anticipation than from fear. His shaft acts like this purple magic wand, quickly mesmerizing my mind to its lewd overheated needs and desires. Even our unborn baby grrl, happily floating in my beachball belly, now comes fully to life. She so acutely feels its shimmering power too, her tiny lips gasping heated bubbles at its mighty size and shape. That pulsating umbilical cord has not only tied our bodies, Mommy and daughter, but also our thoughts. I clearly feel her tiny baby-body trembling, but even so, her baby hands happily clap and her thin lips mouth "Oh goody." My unborn baby-grrl hopes against hope that it will visit her instead, her mighty warrior, not knowing what to do if it did, but sooo wanting it close. As young as she is, she was still created from our lustfilled genes. Her quivering flesh strongly prays for that mighty purple stake to again unmercifully part my tender teenaged flesh, totally impaling my frantically squirming beachball bod as both lips in my thrust- back head only gasp and yelp. My mega-naughty babe hungers for it to mightily thrust up inside my hugely pregnant belly, swiftly passing my poor shredded maidenhood. She thirsts for it to pierce up ever so deeply, soundly penetrating her floating home, my hugely bloated womb. Her tiny baby-bod yearns to embrace and caress its thick solid size with her own two little baby-hands, feeling its powerful pulsations. She so craves to savor its marvelous molten heat, resting her little cheek tightly up against it, maybe even lewdly suckling on its rich creamy goodness with her tiny lips ~~ the different kind of yummy baby-milk that created her. "Our daughter is going to be one very wicked grrl, well before she's a teen. Daddy had better watch out," I giggle to myself, shocked but still very proud and happy. Only an inch away, that monster's wickedly glowing eye now stares directly at me, almost as intently as both my eyes are staring at it. Mine clearly see its puffy purple head glistening, as well as a single sparkling tear, first completely covering that one-eye, then slowly running down. It's weeping, but certainly not from sadness. Suddenly, that stiff spear angles downwards, its bloated purple tip now pointing directly at my petite puckered and parted lips. That naughty stalk twitches and jumps, inching forward. It pleads for my two red-coated pillows to hotly and wetly surround it, to engulf its super-sensitive purple velvet, giving it both carnal comfort and staggering sensations. Bruce's two large sweating hands slowly drop down to pull my fluffy blond head forward, but I look up commanding, "Only my hands today." I clearly hear him whimper, something unusual for such a well- built muscular guy. Both large hands, though, stop in mid-air, then clasp obediently behind his back, his rippled bod arching slightly, making that sparkling spear jut out even farther. Looking up into his half-lidded pleading eyes, my naughty right hand slips into my lacy left bra-cup. My two outer fingers strongly squeeze that engorged milky flesh while a loud lingering "purr" rises from my lips. Simultaneously, the other three teasing fingers again and again slide over that painfully-stiff oozing spout, constantly tweaking, tugging, and tormenting. They roughly coax more and more sticky liquid out, those devilish digits growing whiter and gooier with every passing second. Solar flares again blaze in his wide-open eyes, partly burning away their passive cloudiness. Both swirling orbs are now riveted to that twirling hand under my lacy black bra, so desiring to see more. I can feel that he wants to do something, anything, but he's afraid of my reaction, so he only submissively leers, drool escaping his parted panting lips and running down his chin. His lewd looks make my clean-shaven cunny really flow, those black lace bikinis now so very slick and soggy, plastered to my shaking bottom tighter than a second skin. Both puffy cunny-lips have parted so obscenely, sucking up some of my gooey crotch, so vividly and boldly advertizing my horny little slit. Luckily, my beachball belly hides that completely from his eyes, saving me further embarrassment. As those devilish digits continue to tease my obscenely puckered spout, my brightly painted lips make absolutely sure that my hottie clearly hears every single guttural gasp that leaves. Those heated haunting sounds make BOTH of us grow hotter and hotter, as well as our little grrl bobbing so much more actively around inside. Warm sweet Mommy's milk lubricates my short slender fingers sooo much better than yucky spit. It also feels ten times better getting them wet and ready that way. Oh, God, does it. It would have been much easier to quickly slip that naughty hand into my sopping wet bikinis to get those naughty digits super-moist and slippery. Once that hand had slithered into that hot humid blackness, I knew there was absolutely no way it was ever coming back out until my smoldering bod had strongly climaxed. Right now, my SOLE goal is to please my hottie. Finally, with a deep delicious sigh, those five delicate fingers reluctantly pull back out. Creating a tight little-grrl fist, my wet milky fingers swiftly encircle his still-spongy stalk, savoring its fullness even though it's not totally hard yet. My fingers grip it so very tightly, surrounding it with a fleshy vise. "I've learned that it's not an easily breakable toy," I giggle to myself. Instantly, my hugely pregnant body strongly shivers. His intense erotic energy swirls over my tiny gripping hand, again and again, zipping up my shaking wrist and arm, then through every cell of my tingling flesh. Those energy bursts cause my dark rubbery spouts to pop way out, mega-visible nubbies through my thin lacy bra cups, like they just received a strong electric shock. They also effect my little-grrl clitty forcing that stalk to instantly erect, poking through my skin- tight bikinis like this gigantic pink pearl. Maybe those shivering erotic waves are only my imagination, or maybe it's something else, something more primal. Still, my tiny delicate fingers refuse to let that swelling spear go, feeling them slowly die down. Fully encircling that swollen heated tube, my red glistening finger nails aren't even close to touching, looking so bright against his pale white flesh. So far, I haven't been able to get Bruce to suntan in the nude, even by promising to sensuously rub heated suntan oil over each and every inch of his pale flesh, and maybe, even more. "In time, after we're married," I constantly tell myself. I'm sure he'll come around and suntan for me totally nekkid. Right now, my tiny fist, looking less and less delicate, strongly squeezes that scalding fleshy-tube, watching that swelling purple plum balloon fuller. Those tightly gripping fingers then tug on it once, then twice, stretching its filling stalk farther and farther out. My ears so clearly hear the guttural gasps escaping from between my hottie's parted panting lips on each and every action. That alone forces a broad wicked grin all across my sweet angelic face. Releasing my death-grip, those fingers gently glide all the way down that nekkid smooth-shaven shaft, then sensuously slither back up again, now only lightly touching. They then swirl all around that bloated purple head, smearing its hot oozing goo over every millimeter, making it brightly glisten and my mouth water. Now, I'm the one who is drooling !! Up and down they again slowly slide, once, then twice, then three times. His boyish body violently shudders during every iteration, that straining shaft thrashing around in the empty sex-charged air, bobbing and bouncing so deliciously. Further teasing, I gently rest my soft wet palm up against its gooey and sticky purple head. I begin to spin it clockwise, then counter- clockwise, over and over again, creating this marvelous friction, just as my warm wet tongue would happily and vigorously lick this yummy ice cream cone. A long lingering series of heated moans escape his lips as he pushes and shoves that swelling purple plum up against my tiny palm even harder. It's almost like he wants, no, "needs," to ram that shaft all the way through my young tender flesh, making this bloody hole and raping my tiny innocent 14-year-old hand. I have rarely seen this level of desire in him, and it excites me greatly ~~ even my tiny toes are curling in those T-straps. "I guess I'm getting better at this," I softly giggle, mega-proud. Finally, strongly gasping, maybe even grimacing a little, Bruce reluctantly pushes my sticky red-hot palm away. My sparkling eyes can see that super-puffed-up head brightly gleaming from all the yummy juices I've happily smeared all around. In response to that tempting delight, my tongue wets my parted lips, slowly and ever so sensuously. It makes their glowing fire- engine redness brightly glisten in the sunlight, torturing his mind even more with their just out-of-reach moist beauty. Since watching him grow so greatly excites my pregnant bod, I always tease and toy with him, almost forever, delaying its complete growth and culminating climax as long as possible. Giving my hottie a hand-job is never simply a five minute chore for me, at times lasting almost a full scrumptious hour. I love to savor the power my tiny little-grrl hands have over him. Regaining my tight grrly-grip, I now let my heated breath teasingly caress his still-swelling purple plum. Its stalk visibly plumps, growing longer, fatter, and harder with each passing second, wiggling all around inside my tight tiny fist. At first, my pretty hand remains perfectly still, again teasing him, while all five fingers just squeeze, feeling the pounding pulse from his frantically flowing blood. Frustrated, his twitching body thrusts forward, hips bucking, valiantly trying to reach my red painted lips, but today, it's not my pillowy lips that will be giving him pleasure ~~ I HAVE decided !! "Sorry," I whisper softly and sensuously, only loud enough for him to hear, as my glowing red lips pull back just out of reach. All five grasping fingers tighten. They strongly feel his simmering excitement ~~ constant throbbing through his stiff shaft, rhythmic pulsating of those gallons of super-heated blood, and continuous bubbling from that single mesmerizing eye. Suddenly of its own accord, that impatient spear starts slipping and sliding back and forth through my hotly hugging fingers, needing an earth-shattering release ever so badly. His animalistic lust has now completely taken over. I decide to help. My small groping hand slides up and down, then swirls round and round, trying to tantalize each and every tender sensitive spot, as that spear frantically thrusts. I want to create the maximum of wonderful skin-to-skin contact for him. My pregnant bod truly worships his very manly member, even though I so wickedly tease. Four naughty fingers constantly caress that plump ridge all along its underside. At times, I gently use my sharp nails for inspiration, listening to him loudly groan, with pleasure of course. Other times, my chaste little pinky swirls and twirls across its purple velvet head each and every time it pulls all the way back. I acutely feel his temperature rise as his breathing quickens. A constant chorus of moans now loudly echoes from his wide-open, gasping mouth, spurring me on even more. My firm rhythmic pumping so boldly shows both my love for him and my undying conviction to thoroughly please. In only seconds, my tiny pumping hand is totally coated with his yummy lubricating pre-juices. My tight back-and-forth motion instantly turns it white, creating this frothing foam ring around that bloated purple plum. That creamy white appears so vivid against that deep purple. It beckons my richly painted lips closer, but again I resist ~~ I have made up my mind, "hands only" !! Without asking, my tightly gripping hand changes tactics, now vigorously pumping back and forth using all my grrly might. In reply, my hottie begins thrusting harder too, both our strokes synchronizing into this frenzied and fevered rhythm. Soon, I slow down again, hearing his frustrated gasp and feeling his big body shudder. Glancing up, I see his glazed-over eyes staring down, making me grin. He isn't looking at my face, or even his shiny glistening staff, though. Both half-closed eyes are glued to my rounded twin milkers, even as my hand lingeringly pumps him. Each taut engorged milker obscenely bounces and wobbles round and round from all my frenzied pushing and pulling. Their creamy flesh constantly bulges over those deeply plunging black bra-cup- edges, creating creamy rippling mounds. That black lacy bra is now so obviously a couple sizes too small, but my hottie still wants me to wear it ~~ I wonder why ?? Both creamy engorged spheres appear almost ready to jump, hop, or skip right out and over those low plunging black tops. Once, Bruce loudly gasps as a huge patch of wrinkled dark reddish-brown areola pops into view, then shyly slips back into hiding again. Suddenly, his large hands slip through my curtain of golden ringlets, falling onto my shaking shoulders. At first, I think it's only to steady himself, but those sweaty insistent hands have a more devilish motive. Without asking, or even saying a word, both sets of naughty fingers wriggle into the deep furrows in my shoulders. They swiftly hook under my wide straining bra straps, simultaneously, lifting both buried straps up. My cute little hand rhythmically pumps away on his squishing and twitching spear, not loosing even a single stroke ~~ I've been trained so well. Sharply tugging both to the outside, they abruptly release those jet- black straps along my upper arms. His glazed-over eyes intently watch those dark flickering shadows slip and slide downwards, lower and lower, sometimes hidden behind my golden ringlets. As they reluctantly release their sturdy support, more and more heaving creamy titty brazenly becomes exposed. He needs this to push him over the edge. Soon, the entire top curve of both dark-reddish-brown wrinkled areola become fully visible. They glisten from the warm sweet Mommy's milk that has secretly oozed out my puckered points and puddled in their deep heated crevices. Within short seconds, the complete upper half of both silver dollar- sized areola blossom fully visible. Now, only their long thick spouts still hide in those constantly-sagging and shrinking black cups. On a super-strong jerk of my slippery hand, I almost loose my balance. My entire upper body wobbles worse than my huge beachball belly ever had. My right bobbing milker entirely pops out of its sagging lacy cup, then on the very next bounce, pushes that now-unsupporting material down under it, its taut creamy flesh fully exposed, bright and glistening. It hovers there, totally buoyant, floating in mid-air like a newly created moon, or even a planet. Its fat rubbery spout proudly juts straight out, a mighty shimmering mountain peak. That stubby tip jiggles a bit, drawing erotic patterns through the thick sexually- charged air as my poor body continues to pant and stroke, then pant and stroke some more. Bruce sharply gasps at such an erotic sight. His thick slick spear frantically jerks and spits as his hips wildly pump, while his cloudy eyes stay solidly riveted to that engorged floating globe. My puffy blue veins graphically pulse, wildly squiggling back from its dark- reddish-brown spout, each blue streak now sooo vividly visible against its mega-taut creamy flesh. His hotly yearning eyes watch three or four droplets of warm white Mommy's milk ooze from that stiff rubbery spout, puddling together into a single larger drop. As soon as it completely forms, glistening like a perfect pearl in the sparkling sunlight, it quickly runs down that quivering mountain, faster than a skier on a record- breaking run. Instantly, more gleaming droplets ooze out my nipple-ducts to take its place. I now so acutely feel his ragged pulse and hear his broken breaths mixed with strangled cries. I know that his mind-blowing and earth-shattering fulfillment is so very close. My eyes watch both pleasure and pain alternate across his frantic face as my tiny hand continues to pump, going faster and faster. "Just a little bit more" his lips silently mouth as his entire muscular body strongly shudders in glorious anticipation. My pregnant beachball belly now wobbles along with him, giving our baby grrl a wild ride like she's in the middle of a violent typhoon. Taking pity on my lover, my free grrly-hand slowly slithers up through a loose leg opening on his boxers. It lovingly massages his hotly hanging ball-sack, rolling both savagely swollen spheres around in my heated little palm like two chiming metal Chinese balls. They act like Mexican jumping beans in my hot little hand, telling me that he's more than ready. Abruptly, my rippling palm feels his two distended horse-chestnuts rise up, so red-hot and so bloated, filled to bursting with his baby- making spermies. His thrusts through my slippery fist become even more frantic. His purple plum swells even fuller, now the size of an over-ripe lemon, but an even deeper purple. Those guttural grunts become fevered groans gushing from deep within his throat. Suddenly between guttural gasps, a loud "Oh yessssssssss" hisses from his parched lips. Those frantic thrusts abruptly stop in mid- stride and a blast of hot creamy baby-making juice explodes from his super-flared slit like that geyser, Old Faithful. His first sticky blast zaps my cute little chin, its molten heat making my entire pregnant bod shiver, then slowly drooling down my neck. The next one hits my nekkid upturned neck, making me swallow hard, even though I have nothing in my mouth. It slowly runs down my flushed pink chest into that deep dark valley between those still-heaving milkers. Its heat and wetness makes me again strongly shiver, like someone has slipped an ice cube down, but a whole lot nicer. The third blast lands on my defenseless and totally nekkid right milker. It slowly slithers down that taut creamy titty, leaving a hot stick trail, almost branding my tender teenaged flesh. Suddenly, it stops, dangling from my puckered rubbery spout as it lingeringly mixes with those droplets of warm sweet Mommy's milk. Soon, that gooey mixed-up droplet grows too heavy for even its own stickiness. Most of it drips down, leaving a thin slender strand still connected to my stiff rubbery spout, glistening like tinsel. It lands on his trembling leg, dangling from his curly black hairs. After those three powerful eruptions, Bruce again starts pumping through my slick gooey hand. He's not done yet. Now, I use both hands, one to grip and vigorously pump, the other to sensuously caress his swollen purple velvet, swirling and twirling over every slick and gooey inch. The loud squishing sounds from that red-hot erupting poker make me grow more excited, my pregnant beachball belly frantically rubbing in and out against his hairy legs. He soon begins trembling again. I know that he hasn't cum in a week, and with my constant teasing and our heavy petting sessions, I'm ready for even more sticky molten blasts. Maybe it's my surging hormones or maybe it's just from all my bloated belly's wild bouncing around, but our baby begins strongly kicking, beating on the inside of my belly's swollen flesh like a drummer on his drum. With my pregnant belly pressed so tightly between his legs, our baby is actually kicking his Daddy's calves and knees through my taut tender belly-flesh, but his Daddy is now so far gone that he doesn't notice, not even hearing my suppressed giggle. Abruptly, more squirts of hot searing cum land all over my shaking bod, like rapid machine-gun fire ~~ splat, splat, splat. Bruce's loud lewd gasping now drowns out every other noise as his parched parted lips groan and gasp with unbridled pleasure. Gooey globs land in my long blond hair, others on my flushed happy face, but most bombard my black lacy bra. Soon, that black lace looks polka-dotted, like its dark blackness has grown these huge creamy-white measles. Covered or uncovered, my taut tingling milkers sharply feel the intense heat from each and every spurt. Both dark reddish-brown areolas lewdly wrinkle, my rubbery oozing spouts stiffening even further. It now looks like I've wickedly put a super-fat Chap-Stick in my tented left bra-cup. I sooo badly want to roughly rub those wicked and obscene points across both his hairy trembling thighs, back and forth, branding him from their smoldering heat, but again, I resist. I'm not done with that fleshy and sticky tube quite yet. Even though my cute clean-shaven cunny now really juices, my poor throbbing bod will just have to wait until later. Musky grrly goo slowly oozes through its sheer lace, drooling down the insides of my smooth now-glistening thighs. All my nose can smell is spicy sexual scents, that trusting tropical rain forest has completely withered away. All five clenching fingers gently yank on that twitching spear again and again. My ears proudly listen to his guttural and gurgling groans as that hand strongly milks his now-rubbery wilting worm. "We're both oozing *milk* right now," I gayly giggle, suddenly sounding very little-grrlish, then add, "Even more compatibility." My wobbling bloated body now glows brighter than a 1000-watt light bulb. It's not all from my pregnancy, though. In actuality, most is from the pleasure I have given my sweet hottie. I am happy and proud, and it shows. Those remaining spurts slowly drizzle down, one by one, on top of my hugely pregnant belly. With each, a glistening silvery strand dangles from that wrinkled purple plum to my taut tingling belly- flesh. It only breaks when I twirl it around my short index finger like a yummy strand of spaghetti. That devilish digit is soon wrapped up like a mummy from those strands, shining and sparkling in the light. As my hottie intently watches, still shaking, that glistening finger slides between my panting painted lips, partly disappearing. Then widely opening both ruby-red lips, almost forming a perfectly obscene "O," my hot wet tongue exaggeratedly swirls all around its trembling length. Both ears clearly hear Bruce quietly whimper, ever so high pitched, almost like a tortured little boy. In reply, a soft lingering "Mmmmmmmm" ripples from between my wide open lips, making him again whimper. Licking his creamy goodness with my eyes tightly closed, I am quickly reminded of just how delicious he tastes. I suddenly regret using only my tiny hands to jerk him off. After what seems like a million butterfly flicks and licks, that naughty finger is totally clean, but still wet and gooey from my simmering saliva. Opening both eyes and gazing down, those gooey heated splats feel so right hotly puddling on my taut pink belly-flesh. After all, on an earlier day, it was his potent scorching cum that made my flat little-grrl tum-tum balloon so gigantically in the first place !! Raising up slightly, my shaking hand rubs his glistening purple plum back and forth across the gooey top of my hugely pregnant belly, connecting those still-warm cummy-dots. It uses his wilted wand like a paint brush, drawing this naughty abstract art picture on my taut pink canvas. I may never be able to sell my erotic masterpiece, but the heat from that purple plum, as well as its slipping and sliding, feels sooo wonderful to my horny body. It also feels good to my hottie. Every gooey swirl causes another deep sigh to escape from between his parched parted lips and a strong shiver to zip up his spine. Even though Bruce has finally finished erupting, my trembling fingers continue to gently grasp that fleshy tube. I also love feeling it soften in my hand, cutely wiggling, its last potent baby-making goo lingeringly oozing out. It coats my tiny fingers and quivering palm, then slips and slides down my thin wrist. Softening even more, my resistance crumbles. My hot drooling tongue tip slithers all the way out like this happily dancing cobra. As that plum continues to lewdly bubble, it licks his still-puckered slit, again tasting his warm, sticky, and oh so yummy baby-making juice, but this time, right from the well. His entire body shivers again and again as my hot wet tongue tip laps, like a kitty-cat with her bowl of yummy cream. Bruce's shriveling plum remains so very sensitive, but his large shaking hands still don't push me away. My hottie so enjoys my gentle loving licks and laps. After one or two more long lingering licks, my gooey and sticky fingers release it, watching that fleshy tube sooo happily and contentedly droop. Not only do I like to watch it grow, but I also like to watch it shrink, knowing that it was ME, and ONLY me, that caused it to burst forth with such creamy liquid goodness. As I seriously stare, my lips suck on my sticky gooey fingers one by one, both cleaning them and savoring even more of his yummy juices. His still-half-closed eyes intently ogle each and every tiny finger as they slip and slide in and out between my glossy red lips, my actions again as exaggerated as possible ~~ only for HIM. In between fingers, I pout up at him with my angelic little-grrl look, a slender finger pulling down my lewdly puckered lower lip. I just know he can clearly see the wetness glistening on that puffy pillow. I so try to look just like that womyn in the sexy magazine Bruce showed me cause he liked her so much. Next, both lips so deliciously part, but only slightly, blowing small bubbles using his sticky cum. That shriveling spear twitches once or twice as he stares, panting, like it truly wants to come back to life, but it's so tired, only continuing to shrink smaller and smaller. Finally finished with him, I succumb a little to my own burning desires. My shaking body leans closer, letting my two red-hot rubbery spouts press into the insides of his thighs, almost branding him even through my one spotted bra cup. I acutely feel him twitch from their intense searing heat, but still he doesn't back away. As his shriveling spear leaves a wet gooey trail across my flushed left cheek, I finally bury my entire face in his sweaty groin. My nose sneaks through his fly, both touching his moist bare flesh and deeply sniffing all those manly scents still contained by his boxers. My short grrly arms slip all the way around his tree-trunk legs. They hug him tightly, as both begin sliding up and down the backs of his hairy legs, his body again sighing and shuddering. "God, he feels so good," is all I can think as our baby again kicks his calf, forcing a broad grin across my face. "I am sooo happy snuggling just like this," I add, giggling, those words totally muffled inside his still-moist boxers. As my contented bod super-tightly hugs his, those muscular thighs flex inward, strongly squeezing my two swollen and engorged milkers between them. Warm sweet mommy's milk instantly oozes from both hugely distended spouts. The right one lewdly dribbles directly on his shivering thigh-flesh, while the left one seeps through its thin lace cup. In both cases, though, warm sweet mommy's milk is soon slowly running down both his shivering legs. "We'll both need a good shower after this," I giggle softly to myself, though somehow, I don't think he will mind. We might even take it together. Mommy's master bedroom has this super-big shower stall ~~ you can fit a small army in it, and my pregnant beachball belly isn't that gigantic, yet. Most days when I stroke him, I don't cum, not then anyway, but take my pleasure from the satisfaction and enjoyment that I give. I always sooo want to reach into my sheer black panties and rub my soggy bottom as my tiny hand pumps his fleshy tube, but I control my burning need. Right then, I'm there ONLY to give HIM satisfaction and I can do ONE thing so much better than trying to do two. I hope you enjoyed my little story. Jackie jacquilyn@hotmail.com -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----