Thor rocks my world.
He bends me over the sink, taking me from behind, using his hand to wipe the mirror clean so he can stare at my reflection.
As always, I can’t make it two steps out of the shower without this man pouncing on me.
“I have to go,” I laugh, squealing as his big cock pounds me. “Oh,baaaby.”
Lately, he’s become obsessed with doing it in this position. His hands hold my belly, cradling the curve so gently that it’s a stark contrast to his savage thrusts.
“Not until you cum,” he insists.
I smile at him in the mirror, running my tongue over my lip just the way he likes. “You first.”
“Yeah? You think so?”
“I fuckingknowit.”
As if either one of us can hold out that long.
I’m not sure who goes first, but we both collapse over the sink, moaning and panting and holding each other.
“You’re gonna make me late,” I gasp, shoving his big body back. “So bad.”
“You make me bad.”
“Good.”
We kiss like we’re going to start all over again. I smack his chest and scurry out of the bathroom, dry my hair as best I can, and get dressed. My stretchy pregnant pants are so comfy that I wouldn’t mind popping another baby out once our little girl arrives.
Life in the third trimester ain’t so bad when you’ve got a husband who sees to your every desire and need. Foot rubs, back massages, and expert tongue work on command are essential. He’s got all my cravings covered, cooking whatever sick combination that pops into my mind and plagues me until I have a taste and want something else (often, it’s his spicy chili). The only issue, really, is that he seems even hornier now that I’m bursting at the seams.
I can hardly get anything done.
I waddle downstairs, get my shoes on, and stop to look at the photos in our entryway. So many pictures have been added over the years that mine now compete with his, mingled together perfectly.
There are a dozen pictures from my final summer with Charles’s circus. Hilda. Mark. Kyle. The clowns. Everyone was so sad to see me go, but happy for me. They smile at me from the wall, telling me togo for it, always.
Branching out from that, photos from when I first moved into Thor’s home, our home. A trying time, to be sure. So much was learned between us. One of my favorite pictures of myself sits in the center of that time: I’m posing in the fields, backdropped by trees painted with the warm colors of fall, practicing a dance in the wind.
A year later, new pictures arrived. I landed myself a spot inO, one ofCirque du Soleil’sVegas shows. What a crazy couple of years that was. Thor made it work, splitting his time between Vegas and here, managing his little chili business, his hobbies,and my crazy life in Sin City. It was fast times, and he kept up without complaint, always smiling and supporting me until I’d finally had enough of the big leagues. I still laugh at that dumb caricature sketch we had done on the Vegas Strip: the artist made it look like a hobbit had married a giant.
And now, here I am, opening our front door, stepping out into the day with only a tiny bit of fear. How could I not have it? We’re starting a family, and I’ve got my own little business to see to…
“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Thor says from the top of the stairs. He’s still naked and wet, already getting hard again.
“No! We’ll end up parked along the side of the road fogging up the windows. I have to go.”
“Have a great time,” he says, saluting me with his cock. “Take care of my girl, and let me know what you’re craving for dinner.”
See? He’s got me covered.
I head out, laughing as Thor walks into the garage in the nude to check on his home-brew distillery. Thank God we don’t have neighbors. That man will start working on something and not realize that four hours have passed and he’s still not wearing pants.
“Love you!” he calls out, waving like a fool.
I honk the horn and make a heart with my hands. “Love you more.”
Into town I go, heading down Main until I get to the block of boutiques, cafes, and a breakfast diner I have trouble not walking straight into and ordering one of everything off the menu.
