He Likes My Ass Pt. 02

I snaked my arms back around his neck kissing and nuzzling his neck as I whispered to him, "I'm your little whore anytime you want or need me, and yes, I did imagine you fucking me hard when I dressed this morning. Take me to bed handsome, I need that meat buried deep tonight. Can you do that for mama ...?"

My bra was a front clip, when he unhooked it the girls spilled out wanting to be touched, kissed, sucked, mauled with his mouth and gently massaged with those huge muscular hands. He didn't disappoint, he immediately cupped them groaning deeply, "Oh God Karen I've missed these.", he bent forward lifting a nipple toward his mouth, sucking it in with passion. I'm convinced that my nipples are hard wired to my vaginal area because a pair of lips on them sends tingling shivers throughout my entire body, especially between my legs.

As he sucked I tried contorting my body enough to grind my pussy into him and then stopped, in the process pulling my nipple out of his mouth.

"Stan, you can suck all you like in bed, right now I need you feeling me up everywhere and I want that dick inside me pronto. Take me to bed NOW."

Lover boy didn't disappoint, scooping my hefty body into his arms he carried me to the bed, tossed me onto it, grabbing my panties which instantly hit the floor and buried his face in my wet and steamy bush. I felt his tongue split the few hairs across my vulva and then enter the inner sanctum of my yearning sex. His motions had my hips rocking in record time, soft moans emitting from my lips, my head thrashing from side to side, my hands clutching the sheets, then his wrists, then tangled in his hair, other times grabbing my breasts and pinching the nipples.

I was on the edge of lift off and he knew, concentrating entirely on the lower portion of my clit, the most sensitive part, as my hips began to lift off the bed I heard him laugh softly, squeezing my hips tight pulling me into his face as tight as he could. I bucked and humped and wiggled and moaned and shouted until the final wave was just too much and I pushed him away. Damn, it felt like a tital wave followed by wave after wave of after-shocks, son of a bitch that was intense. In my mind I'm thinking enough of the pussy licking, jam that steel hard dick into me and do it now.

Flipping me over he pulled my hips up, pushed down on the small of my back and lined up my favorite toy with a hungry love shaft, followed by a slow steady penetration to the hilt, causing us both to groan while we pushed tight against the other. His next move surprised me, he didn't move his body, he only spoke.

"Karen, did you stop the pill after last months cycle like we agreed?" I muttered a yes babe. "Good, that means you should be fertile about now, tonight we're gonna plant a baby inside you, this position should go deep, and later on we'll do it doggy, that'll send more sperm into your womb. Are you okay with that precious?"

I answered by squealing and wiggling my ass, listening to him utter over and over. "I love your ass."

We didn't last long the first round, either of us, I was going over the edge in minutes and he followed a few minutes later. I didn't bother cleaning myself, I wanted every ounce of his baby making cream inside me as long as possible so I slipped on a pair of heavy cotton panties. Supper was good, dessert was better as Stan bent me over the kitchen table and filled my pussy with more baby batter. Once again, I left it all in there. Walking hand in hand to our bedroom later he asked if I was okay to go again, I told him he'd better give me one more load or I'd jump the milkman in the morning. Which caused us both to belly laugh.

After carrying out a similar scenario Saturday and Sunday we were worn out and happy to be back at work, I was sore and puffy, he told me he was sore and that he wasn't sure it would ever get hard again. I kissed him, squeezed his limp dick and told him I was sure I could bring it back to life with some mouth to cock resuscitation. The dirty dog, I could feel it beginning to harden in my hand. Stan pushed my hand away.

"Stop Karen, my dick is already sore. Kiss me and let me go to work, I love you."

Tuesday, Thursday and Friday we made love twice a night, Saturday was a day of rest and Sunday afternoon he lost the bet as to who'd win the football game and his payment was making love to me one more time before Monday. I was behind the couch hands on the top of it, bent over, house dress lifted above my hips, no panties, my ass pushed back as far as I could and Stan behind hammering away. We hadn't fucked this hard in some time, both grunting, skin slapping, braless so my tits were swinging in rhythm with our movements.

I felt his body begin to tense as he slowed, the head getting bigger, the shaft feeling thicker, he was close and so was I. I contracted the vaginal walls trying to take him over the edge, as he bellowed out my name and shot his baby makers inside me I creamed that man's cock like it was a glazed donut. He was withdrawing an inch and jamming back in with each spurt, my legs were shaking, my hips bucking up and down, I was about to collapse when I felt Stan wrap his arm around my waist holding me up. Pulling me back into himself in an upright position his cock slipped out and the goo ran down my legs. He whispered in my ear.

"This was the one Karen, there's a baby in you, I just know it. You're gonna be a mommy."

I spun, arms around his neck kissing, "If I'm going to be a mommy, then you're going to be a daddy."

It was another three weeks and I'd missed my period, after waiting another week I took a home pregnancy test and it showed positive. Stan was elated, we celebrated by going out to dinner and then as he put it, "Sealing the deal with one more load planted deep within my pussy."

Being that I'm a bit wider in the hips I didn't show much at first, still Stan would run his hands over my tummy, then lay his head on it and talk to our baby. We decided we didn't want to know the gender, a healthy baby was all we prayed for. The *moms*, oh my God the *moms*. Talk about batshit crazy, they had more plans for me and our baby than I'd ever imagined, it finally reached the point where I had to tell them to stop bugging me every day. Stan just laughed, easy for him, he didn't have to listen to their hundred questions a day. When they started in on their labor stories I called a halt to the interrogations.

I was puffed out about five inches and *glowing* as Stan put it. My breasts were getting even bigger than the hefty momba's they had been if you can believe that. Stan loved it, sucking, playing, having me lower my fat nipples into his mouth as I hovered above him in bed. I told him that he wouldn't be able to play like that once my milk started coming in, he frowned and looked dejected, when I said I'd let him have a taste once the baby arrived he perked up, what a tit man. Or should I say an ass and tit man.

One hears of and reads about how some women's libidos go into hyper drive when they're pregnant, mine didn't, to be fair it didn't decrease either, it stayed about the same and Stan made love to me as he always had, just not three times a night. Thank God. When he was home his hand was on my tummy as much as mine was, he loved feeling the baby move, he would kiss my tummy every night before we went to sleep. He was every pregnant woman's dream, or maybe I should say he was this pregnant woman's dream.

The bigger I got the more I felt frumpy, dumpy and unattractive. My size never affected Stan's attention toward me, he acted like he was proud he'd made my tummy so large, in public he literally beamed joy at my condition. It was a few weeks before I was due that I wanted to make love, I wanted to be on top so he could tenderly play with my now achy breasts. My big belly wasn't allowing for much fun, he suggested we do hands and knees, which sounded good to me.

Our love making was slow and easy, it took a minute or so for me to adjust to his length, once that was accomplished we simply enjoyed each other's body to the fullest. Looking to side I could see him staring at my gently swaying breasts in the dresser mirror, I caught his eye and smiled, that made him squeeze my hips tighter and give me two hard thrusts. Not sure why but that was the catalyst to take me over the rainbow, which in turn brought about his release as well. Pulling out of me he lowered my hips sideways so I was lying on my side, big belly protruding, a warm cream slowly making its way past the labia and onto my thigh. Stan cleaned me, then held me as I stood, helping me get to the potty on shaky legs.

I went into labor with our first son Anthony late morning on a Tuesday, when I called to tell him Stan was home in a flash, got me into the truck and whisk me to the hospital. Though he normally didn't keep his phone on the job he knew my time was soon. He bravely stayed with me the entire time, never wavering, holding my hand encouraging me even when I screamed at him, "this is all your fault you know", he smiled, nodded and kissed my forehead.

Once mama and baby were home he took the next three weeks off work to be with me. He became what he called an *all purpose daddy*, changing little diapers, walking Anthony to burp him, doing anything I could possibly want him to do. By the second week we had a primitive but effective routine established, of course the *moms* showed up almost daily to offer their opinions and input, by the third week Stan had enough, stopping them in their tracks one morning.

"We love you both, you know we do, but you need to go home and let us have some peace. The baby is fine, Karen is fine, I'm fine, go home for a day, we'll see you tomorrow."

From that point on they stopped every second or third day which I greatly appreciated once Stan was back at work. About the fifth week I finished expressing myself (milking myself into a bottle) when Stan gave me a quizzical look. I raised mt eyebrows as if asking what was on his mind.

"What does it taste like, your breast milk?"

"It's sweet and warm, want to try some?" I asked extending my arm with the bottle.

"Nah, if I taste it I want the real thing."

What I did next I think shocked him, I moved the pump away from my breast and beckoned him with a come here wiggle of my index finger.

"There's a bit left in this one, a mouthful or two, would you like to taste it?"

He knelt in front of me as I sat on the couch, I put my hand on the back of his hand and slowly moved him until his lips were ready to engulf the nipple.

"Be gentle honey, suck lightly, it may take one or two sucks but the milk will let down."

He sucked until it began, pulled back, put the nipple back in his mouth and sucked another three or four times until my breast was empty. Pulling back he looked at me sort of funny.

I asked, "What's the matter, didn't you like it?"

"Yeah, it's okay. Kinda sweet though like you said, I liked that but I don't think I want to do it real often."

At the six week mark the poor man was about to climb the walls when I told him we could start making love again, he was gentle, sweet, almost to caring, I had to tell him to put it in gear toward the end or I wasn't going to cum. He switched gears and added more horsepower, that did the trick for both of us. We incorporated some nipple action with a little milk involved into our normal sex lives on a once in a great while basis, Anthony was a little hog and it was a taste that Stan didn't really cotton to. It was erotic to feed breast milk to my husband, but it wasn't something we needed to do often.

Approximately fifteen months after Anthony's arrival I was pregnant with our second child, another boy we named Edward. I became pregnant with Elizabeth eighteen months after Edward, I was hoping I'd finally have a girl and did, the package was complete. That is until one of his little soldiers worked it's way into my womb even though I was at the end of nursing Elizabeth. We were told it isn't real common but it does happen, they would be fourteen months apart.

My baby belly is bigger than the previous three, we were concerned it may be twins since they're common on my mom's side, but no, I was simply having a big baby. We caved on this one and determined it is a boy, we've decided we'll name him Stanley, then nickname him Junior.

The delivery went without a hitch, since it was number four there wasn't as much concern and doting from the *moms*, they let us be. They remain together, being one another's champion and biggest supporter... people in town see them as no more than two old ladies living together, as my mother says, "If they only knew."

Our bedroom remains a steamy place at least three to four times a week, more often when the kids go to visit the grandmas by the ducks. Behind their house is a pond with ducks in it, they have become the grandmas by the ducks.

Our love is strong, we've decided we'll stop at four kids, we had talked about more, then wisely decided four was enough to handle. The thing that always connects where we are today with where we were in the beginning is that there isn't a week goes by when he doesn't say at least once, often times more, "I love your ass." As he squeezes and pats it.