Stepping back, I lifted the hem of Jo’s dress, my hands trembling slightly with anticipation. The soft fabric slid through my fingers as I pulled it up, revealing her skin inch by inch. When the dress reached her shoulders, I paused, my breath catching at the sight of her. Then, with a gentle tug, I guided the dress over her head, letting it fall to the floor in a quiet rustle.
Seeing Jo in just her panties and bra after five months was a revelation; her body had transformed in beautiful ways. Her already full figure had become even more voluptuous, with gentle curves that told the story of new life growing withinher. There was a glow about her, a radiant warmth that seemed to emanate from her very being, leaving me in awe.
I could only imagine how intense I must have looked, taking in her body like that. My gaze lingered, drinking in every detail as though trying to memorise the sight of her.
Jo misinterpreted my silence. Her explanation came softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “I haven’t ordered anything nice in my new size. I’m sure they must have them, but?—”
“Hey,” I called softly, cutting her off. There was nothing unappealing about the plain beige cotton set.
“Huh?”
“You look…” My greedy eyes swept over her body again, taking in the beautiful recent changes. This was what carrying my baby was doing to her body. A sense of pride surged through me.
When my eyes met hers, she seemed to sense the storm of emotions brewing within me. She whispered softly, her voice barely a breath, “Oh.”
“Yeah, Sunshine,” I murmured, my gaze lingering on her. “You look good enough to devour.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
JO
I’ve never been self-conscious about my body. Despite wishing I were taller, I embraced every curve. My full face with my deep dimples was some of God’s finest work. You certainly couldn’t tell me nothing about my thick thighs and big butt. I dressed for the body I had and always looked damn good doing it. If people didn’t like my body, fuck them. Confidence wasn’t something I struggled with, but during those few minutes Ryan looked at me without saying a word, I experienced my first introduction. His silence was unsettling. Before Ryan’s disappearance, he was very vocal about how much he enjoyed my body.
I gained nine pounds in the last couple of months, and the addition went not only to my belly. The mirror has kindly displayed it sitting on my hips and thighs. My well-tailored dress pants weren’t doing the damn thing anymore.
I would never apologize for my body. I wasn’t raised that way, but the silence stretched. Instead, I made excuses about my underwear. At the time I placed the order for the bra and panty set, I hadn’t put much thought into what Iwas ordering. It was so unlike me. My lingerie collection is one I take pride in. It’s an expensive habit that makes me look and feel good. From delicate lace bras to luxurious satin chemises, each piece was thoughtfully chosen to flatter my fuller figure. The collection included a variety of styles, from sultry balconettes to supportive bodysuits, all crafted from high-quality materials that felt heavenly against the skin. They're my secret weapon, boosting my confidence and making me feel irresistibly sexy every time I wear them. Unlike my usual selections, this time I prioritized comfort over style, opting for simple cotton pieces that lacked the intricate details and vibrant colors I typically gravitate towards. The choices were practical and functional, but they didn’t carry the same allure or personal touch that my usual pieces exude.
When I got out of my head long enough to really look into Ryan’s eyes, the primal intensity made me take an involuntary step back. Miss Meow was much braver than I because she pulsed in anticipation. Maybe her lack of self-preservation was due to all those years I made her go without.
Ryan’s eyes burned with an intensity that seemed to smoulder, his gaze sharp and unwavering. His movements, though deliberate, carried a quiet energy, reminding me of a lion meandering towards its prey. He slowly stripped me of my underwear. He moved with a confidence that was both commanding and hypnotic, his every touch intentional, as if savouring the moment. The air between us felt charged, and I could feel my pulse speed up with each passing second.
His lips brushed gently against my shoulder, soft and warm, before trailing down my arm, leaving a path of heat in their wake. His hands moved slowly, their touch deliberate andtender, as they traced soft, almost imperceptible patterns down my back. He paused at my elbow, his breath a whisper against my skin as he planted a tender kiss, his words of adoration lingering like a caress.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a soft caress against my skin. “Every inch of you feels like perfection.” With every movement, his whispered compliments felt like delicate strokes, each one leaving an impression that lingered long after his touch.
My body trembled with each caress, my heart pounding in a way I’d never felt before. For the first time, I’m not sure if I can keep my heart safe from him.
Hormones must be the cause. I need to believe that, or I might fall for my husband.
My crisis was forgotten as he laid me down on the bed and spread my thighs. Ryan wasn’t kidding when he said I looked good enough to eat.
I love the way he was so vocal as his tongue and fingers tag-teamed Miss Meow, bringing her into submission. By the time he was done, she was a creamy, pulsing, satisfied mess.
My pants fill the air as I desperately try to catch my breath. He stripped off his clothes slowly, revealing his incredible body. It wasn’t just my healthy imagination or faulty memory. Ryan’s body was a masterpiece, from the intricate ink designs that adorned his skin to his smoldering, midnight-black eyes framed by monolids. His physique, sculpted with rippling muscles, spoke of artistry, while his tattoos added a layer of beauty that was impossible to ignore. One day I would ask him about them all.
Ryan knelt between my parted legs as I lay on my back on the bed. His movements were precise before, but now he hesitated, as if unsure of himself. I could see the excitement in his eyes, the way his body tensed with desire, yet he remained still, as though waiting for permission. His dick stood at attention, a silent plea for connection, but his hesitation spoke volumes. There was a vulnerability in his stillness, a quiet yearning that made my heart ache.
“What’s the matter?” I finally asked. His silence was unnerving.
Ryan caressed my thighs. “I don’t want to hurt the baby.”
I laughed out loud. Is that all? Ryan was cautious about my belly. “You won’t. Pregnant women have sex all the time.”
He looked at me skeptically. Then, he shook his head. My big, strong Texan was worried that our activity would somehow harm the baby nestled safely in its cocoon.
“I can make you come again,” he offered.
“Or you could slide your cock inside me. Remember, we have laws to uphold.”
