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By Frank McCoy (mccoyf@millcomm.com)

Mmmm... The bathtub called to me, inviting me to sink into the warm water and give my aching back a break. "One day, when I am rich and famous, I will design my own bathtub," I muttered, wishing the tub to be twice as large as it actually was. Oh, to have the warm water completely cover me! To be able to get my legs and body in the water all at one time! To float, with no weight at all.
Well, Daryl couldn't understand why I wanted to spend all my time in the tub. Being eight months pregnant, the tub was one of the few places I felt comfortable. Besides, being naked felt wonderful. My clothing always felt tight, and everything rubbed against my hypersensitive nipples. The constant abrasiveness of my clothing drove me crazy. Maybe I should walk around the house topless, I thought longingly.
Laughing at the crazy thought, I picked up the soap, working up a good lather in my hands. Oh, how slick my hands felt, running across my swollen breasts, down the hard lump in my belly. As miserable as I felt, I also felt incredibly wonderful. What a paradox! Every nerve in my body seemed alive, and I was hornier than I'd ever been. My soapy hands reached the burning spot between my legs, and I sighed, rubbing my clit gently, stroking my desire.
The whole idea of being pregnant was exciting to me. Daryl liked to stroke my stomach, feeling the baby kick against his hand. He felt it, our baby, growing inside me. When we made love, he fancied that made him closer to the baby, his sperm spreading into my womb where the baby was. I loved it when he stiffened against me, pouring his seed deep into my belly. It was yet another way he told me he loved me, and I welcomed it.
I felt it, the baby growing inside me. That our love had led to this little life, this little person who was part of me and part of him, made me want to couple with Daryl again and again. I rubbed my clit harder, feeling the build up, knowing I would climax soon. But I didn't want this empty climax. I wanted to feel Daryl inside me.
Rinsing off quickly, I let the water out, and managed to work my way out of the tub. Ordinarily, I would have put on something slinky and danced my way into his pants, but I wasn't exactly made for slinky right now. I laughed, resting my hand on my belly. None of my lingerie would fit over this bump. My maternity clothes were NOT sexy.
I came upon an idea while drying my hair. Soon I was ready, feeling very glamorous and beautiful. And Horny! "Hey big boy!" I said, leaning in the doorway to the den. "Wanna get lucky?"
"Hello, Honey!" he said, jumping up. Excitement glittered in his eyes. Well, it wasn't every day his very pregnant wife adopted a sexy pose in his doorway, completely nude. I reached a hand up to cup my breast, feeling very wanton and very sexy. The growing bulge in his pants made it obvious that my chosen outfit had the effect I wanted.
"Am I a lucky man or what?" he asked, pulling me into his arms. Our baby disliked such tight embraces, apparently doing its best to push Daddy away by kicking him, but that only strengthened my desire. Of course, Daryl's hands squeezing my ass had a lot to do with my increasing desire.
I steered him back to the couch, surprising him with this initiative. Not that I was inclined to be shy, but of late, I felt too tired to cook, much less seduce him. Given my great girth, I couldn't fall gracefully onto the cushions. He had to help lower me down, which made us both laugh hysterically. "I guess my Mata Hari days are over," I joked.
"Oh no!" He buried his face between my breasts, growling deep in his throat. I jerked as he began to rub my nipples between his fingers, waves of almost unbearable pleasure spiraling from his touch. Where the rubbing of the clothing was annoying, his manipulation only flamed my desire. When his mouth closed around my nipple, I almost fainted. My body responded, the first waves of an orgasm spreading through my body.
"Wow," I said, when I could breathe again. I had heard that some women could orgasm from nursing. I never thought it would be me.
Daryl seemed awfully impressed, spreading my legs to check this out first hand. Forcing his face between my thighs, he began licking at my pussy, doing his puppy dog routine. Long licks, loud licks, the kind that made me squirm. His stubbly cheeks scraped the insides of my thighs, driving me even crazier.
"Oh, Daryl!"
He pulled my legs over his shoulder, driving his tongue up in my pussy as far as he could. The orgasm this time was stronger, longer lasting. I had to hold my stomach while I rode out each wave, the baby not liking to be disturbed by Mommy like this.
"Aren't you ready yet?" I asked, moving my legs off his shoulder so he could stand. I left my legs spread wide; if I was going to be wanton, I may as well do a good job of it. "I need you to fuck me."
"Yes Ma'am." He dropped his pants, his erection sticking straight out. While the sight of a man's penis ordinarily didn't excite me, I did love to see Daryl's erection, knowing that I was the cause of it. "Maybe you should lie on the coffee table," he said, eying my big belly. "I think that will work better."
I blushed, but I was used to having to make concessions to my stomach. Of course, lying down made the baby more active, but I didn't care. Right now I needed to feel Daryl's hard shaft inside me, and would do what I needed to do to get it. He helped me lie back on the table, kneeling at the end of the table between my legs. Planting a big kiss on my belly, he slid inside me.
I can never describe the delight I feel when my man enters me. The need, the itch, if you will, deep inside, is finally scratched, stroked, but as satisfying as it is, it makes you burn for more. Each stroke made me crazier; squirming with delight. Anywhere he touched, my skin burned; the pleasure and desire spiraling back to where our bodies joined. And when the climax comes, the satisfaction of having his hardness inside kills the itch and quenches the need. I feel my body clenching him, pulling him deep, milking his cock to complete the whole process.
Groaning, calling my name, he collapsed on me, resting his head on my belly. As though on cue, the baby pushed at his head, my stomach suddenly distorting before my eyes. "You are some kind of woman," he whispered, ignoring the baby.
I smiled, my body finally relaxing. Twisting my hands into his hair, we lay together; enjoying the way our bodies felt against one another, the delight of flesh against flesh. The baby even seemed to quiet down, accepting finally that Mommy had a life, too. My back even felt good, lying against the hard table. Closing my eyes I drifted off to sleep, feeling content.