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From: jacquilyn@hotmail.com (Jackie)
Subject: New Story: "My Sweet Hottie" (f/M, preg, teen, milk, handjob)
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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


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