Wyndi knockedout right after she caught the orgasm she’d been chasing. I wasn’t surprised that pregnancy kept her tired. The books said that she was supposed to experience a surge in her energy during the second trimester. She was sixteen weeks, and it hadn’t happened yet. Now, she was up and in the bathroom. That was another thing. Baby Girl had no chill when it came to pressing on her mother’s bladder. Wyndi stayed using the bathroom.
I downloaded an app on my phone that gave me a comparison to an everyday object according to baby girl’s week of gestation. At sixteen weeks, she was supposedly the size of an avocado. How an avocado caused so many trips to the bathroom was beyond me, but it was what it was.
“You hungry?” I asked when she came out of the bathroom. She was so fucking beautiful to me, even with about 30 percent of her hair outside of the bun she’d put it in. Her naked body was on full display, and seeing her that way made me remember that she’d fallen asleep before I’d gotten some pussy.
My eyes zeroed in on her stomach. I got up from the bed, met her at the bathroom door, and dropped to my knees in front of her. “You’re starting to show.” I kissed her stomach lovingly. When she was flat on her back in the bed, somehow, I hadn’t noticed. But now, it was obvious that she had a little pooch where there hadn’t been one before.
Her hands dropped down and landed on either side of my face, as I kissed her stomach again and again. “Yeah. I noticed that a few days ago.” She giggled. “Stop, Kaynaan. You’re tickling me.”
I didn’t stop until she dropped down to her knees. “Wyn.” I kissed her lips.
She blushed, looking down at the floor. “Stop.”
“Nope.”
“Kaynaan.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “You have a way of making me feel so . . . I don’t know. Desirable? You make me feel like you can’t?—”
I cut her off. “Believe you’re real? Shit, sometimes I can’t. Sometimes, I can’t believe that you let me press all up on you like this. Especially after how you acted like you weren’t gonna give me a chance.” I pulled her to me, my semi-hard dick against her. “That you let me touch you like this.” My fingers found her opening, then her clit, and rubbed it gently.
She moved away from me, turning her back to me, and positioning herself on all fours. I understood the assignment and appreciated the invitation. With no fanfare at all, I slidinto her from behind. My place of peace. “Shit,” I hissed as her pussy clenched my dick, holding me prisoner in a pool of warm wetness.
She let her head drop down to the carpet, tooting her ass up at me in the process. “Arch your back, baby.”
She arched her back, and I attacked the pussy like I was holding a grudge against it.She moaned out, which only encouraged me to go deeper but slower, giving her the death strokes that I knew would blow her mind.
“Oh my God, yes.” She crooned as I held her hips and pulled her back on my dick. With each powerful thrust, I autographed my name on her inner walls.
“You too tired to throw it back?” I taunted before leaning over and biting down on her right shoulder, causing her to tremble.
My hands fell from her hips as she threw her ass back at me with speed, fucking me at a pace that she set until I caught up with her, and repositioned her hips in my hands.
“It’s good,” I told her. “Your pussy’s good as a motherfucker.” I could’ve stayed there for the rest of my life, giving and receiving pleasure from Wyndi. I probably loved her, but I wasn’t trying to examine those feelings at the moment.
Her face was buried in the floor rug. I could only make out whimpers as I plowed into her, chasing my orgasm, while she chased hers, too. In and out. In and out. She found her relief before me, cooing and pressing her ass aggressively back on my pelvis. I repeatedly pushed inside the depths of her goodness, until my toes started to curl, and the bedroom became a blur in my peripheral vision. The eruption shot into her without warning, coating her insides, draining me momentarily.
“Shit.” I muttered as my dick continued to jump, making me wonder just how long it would go on.
She collapsed flat on her stomach. I held myself in push-up position to avoid crashing down on top of her. I fell onto the floor beside her. “I’m yours, Brown Eyes.”
“I’m yours, too.”
“Let’s get off this floor, shower, and get something to eat. Okay?” I asked.
“Okay.”
After we showered, she threw on a robe while I threw on a clean pair of boxer briefs. We headed to the kitchen and raided her refrigerator. She didn’t have much.
“Ugh!” She pouted as we decided on waffles, sausage, and eggs. “We should’ve gone to your place. You always have good food to eat. Your chef always makes sure your fridge is stocked.”
“I like coming here.” I cracked three eggs into a bowl and added a splash of milk, seasoning, and some shredded cheese.
“Why?”
I glanced over at her and caught her eye. “Because you’re here. Your style. Your smell. Your . . . essence. Everything I like the most is here.”
