Just a Bump of Fun [18+]

*Reader Discretion Advised. The following erotica contains the following kinks & fetishes. If you are uncomfortable with any of them, do not read. Pregnant. Futanari/Futa. Lactation/Breast milk.*

I never would have imagined that I had a pregnancy kink. I absolutely loathe children and their sticky, snotty, gross ways. And yet, here I was, seven months along, and trying not to smile whenever I looked at how large my belly was getting. Maybe it was because my futanari wife fucked my brains out and convinced me, maybe it was because I loved the way my body was reacting to being pregnant. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but I was certain about one thing.

Being pregnant and the thought of being motherly got me horny beyond belief.

I never thought about how difficult every day things would become after I got pregnant. There were some things that I expected to be hard, like having to lean over to pick things up, but just carrying all of this extra weight was a whole new struggle.

After waking up later than usual and doing my normal morning routine, I went into the kitchen and started cooking myself breakfast. I grabbed all of the needed ingredients and began preparing everything, whisking up a creamy cinnamon batter and dunked some bread slices in it before putting them in the buttered skillet.

Breathing in the vanilla and cinnamon-scented air filling the kitchen, I let out a relaxed sigh, “I love the smell of french toast.”

Enjoying the moment, I opened the nearby utensil drawer and took out a spatula, flipping the bread at the right moment to prevent them from burning. As I focused on the food, I mindlessly used my other hand to gently rub all over my pregnant belly.

“This was bound to happen,” I chuckled. “Having a breeding fetish would eventually lead to this. At least it’s with the person I’m married to.” I giggled again, this time at the thought of being pinned and pressed on the bed as my wife flooded my pussy over and over until I was finally carrying her child. I was still surprised that I would be happy about the way my body was changing in order to bring a new child into the world.

I hummed a small tune and kept my hand on my belly for a bit as the food cooked. I reached up into the cupboard overhead and grabbed a large plate and put the finished toast onto it. I cut off the stove and left the spatula on the counter, deciding to wash everything after I ate. Grabbing some utensils and the maple syrup from the cabinets, I went over to the dining table and started eating. My mind went off on its own adventure, not thinking about anything in particular while I ate the flaky, flavorful toast. For a brief moment, Tina came to mind.

“I wonder how work’s going for her,” I said out loud, my mouth full of food.

Tina had already left for work by the time I woke up. I’m usually the one who’s awake first so I could make her a small breakfast plate, but I somehow slept through my alarms. On top of that, Tina didn’t bother to wake me up or let me know she was leaving out. I guess I had one of those days where my body didn’t feel like getting up early. Pouring extra syrup on the last bite of toast, I ate it and let my mind run wild for a bit. Thinking about Tina, I had the sudden urge to give her a small gift to her. I felt around in my pajama pockets, and realized I didn’t have my cellphone on me.

“Shit,” I said, “I thought I brought it with me.”

Having a plan in mind, I got up from my seat and brought my dirty dishes to the kitchen. Grabbing the spatula and dirty pan, I washed everything up. I took the dish towel and dried my hands with it as I passed through the living room and upstairs to the bedroom. I walked through the door and searched around for my phone. Checking on top of my nightstand, flipping around the blanket, and even checking inside of my dressers, I couldn’t find my phone anywhere.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.