Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
So I try to strike a balance. I try to be polite and make eye contact, but not to overdo it so that the curvy girl thinks we’re friends. It’s a tough road to walk, but it’s the only path that’s appropriate and I need to keep on the straight and narrow.
At the moment, Ellen’s cooking breakfast for me while I sit at the kitchen table. It’s nice actually, and the curvy girl always insists. She says I need my strength for a long day at work, or for a hard workout at the gym, and what she makes is delicious, so I’ve learned not to put up a fight. But it’s tough because even as I pretend to read the news on my phone, really all I’m aware of is Ellen’s curvaceous body as she tends to the eggs.
She’s wearing short shorts that show off a bounteous ass that literally resembles a juicy shelf. I can even see the bottoms of her white cheeks peeking out from beneath the fabric as she walks to and fro, getting this and that out of the fridge. Fuck me. I don’t hear her small talk because all I can focus on is the jiggle of her thighs, and the gentle bounce of her breasts as she moves.
My mouth goes dry and I take a long drink from a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
“Delicious,” I growl in appreciation. Ellen turns around in surprise. I haven’t spoken much this morning yet, leaving that part to her, so she’s probably wondering what I’m talking about. Her eye lands on the orange juice.
“Oh, I’m glad you like it!” she smiles. “I squeezed it this morning from the fruit in your yard.” Oh fuck, oh fuck. Now that Ellen’s facing me, I can tell that she’s not wearing a bra underneath her loose t-shirt because beneath the thin fabric, I can see the full sway of her enormous tits, not to mention those hard nips poking out like beacons. What would it feel like to suck those pink crests? Closing my eyes, I groan involuntarily as lust ignites, making my cock throb in my shorts.
“Are you okay?” Ellen asks with a worried look on her face. “Hopefully, I haven’t given you food poisoning with my cooking.”
“No, I’m fine,” I grunt in response. “It’s just that -” I clear my throat and try to make up some non-sexual reason to give her. “It's been a while since I’ve had freshly squeezed orange juice, that’s all.” Ellen looks befuddled, and I know I have to do better “It's the, um, pulp that made me choke a little.” The pulp?! I’m such a dumbass. I need to change the subject right now.
“So how are you feeling?” I ask quickly, gesturing to her pregnant belly. “Any morning sickness or anything?”
Ellen beams at my interest in her condition and seems to immediately forget my clumsy explanation about the wretched juice pulp.
“None at all. I feel great!” she smiles. “And look,” she adds giddily. To my horror she lifts up the material of her shirt to show me her belly. I wince at how soft and inviting her skin looks. The innocent girl points to a very faint coffee-colored line appearing vertically from beneath the waist of her shorts that trails up to her belly button. “This has started showing!”
“What is that?” I ask, puzzled. “Have you always had a line on your stomach?”
“No,” she giggles. “It’s something that pregnant ladies get. It’s called the linea negra and it looks weird, right?”
I shake my head, still staring.
“It's beautiful,” I rasp, wondering what it would be like to run my tongue down that line before sucking at her clit a bit. Would Ellen like it? Hopefully, it’d help with any pregnancy discomfort, as I’ve heard orgasms can be great for that. But still, I can’t be having these thoughts when my sweet guest is so innocent.
“Beautiful?” Ellen giggles. “Well, I don’t know about that, Ryder. In my opinion, it’s plain weird.”
“I like it,” I rasp. “It makes you look more pregnant, if that’s possible.”
Even though my comment was somewhat nonsensical, Ellen immediately looks up and we lock eyes. I see her cheeks flush, her full lips parting. But she doesn’t glance away and instead moves towards where I’m sitting, her breasts swaying with temptation. My cock throbs like a motherfucker. Oh shit, oh shit. Will she let me kiss her? And maybe even -
But I cut off my thoughts because I’m out of control. This girl is nineteen and pregnant! I can’t be taking advantage of her. Yet, it’s all too much, from the short shorts to the filmy t-shirt showing off her huge tits. What’s a man supposed to do? I’m inches away from pinning her to the kitchen floor and fucking her deep and thorough, like I’ve wanted to do all week. I need to get myself out of this situation stat.