The Real 40-Year-Old-Virgin -- Update

Info GWinterbourne
04 Jan. '19

A (very) brief, and hopefully sensual, update on my own favorite couple.

I had just gotten out of the shower and was in the process of drying myself off. I walked from the bathroom to our bedroom where Grant was still in bed, though awake and working on something on his computer.

It was early January, just after Christmas, and I was about fifteen weeks. Not big enough to be showing in any obvious way with my clothes on — for once I was thankful for my long torso which the doctor said gave our baby plenty of room up stretch out in — but my body was definitely changing, and I was becoming a little embarrassed by my growing roundness. I clutched my towel tightly around myself and hurried to get dressed as Grant finally looked up from his laptop.

I had just turned my back to him and begun to pull on my panties when he said, “Uh-uh. Not so fast. I want to to get a good look at you.”

“Grant . . ." I began to protest, but he silenced me saying, “I want to drink you in. You’re even more beautiful than before. In fact, I think you get more beautiful with every passing week. Now drop that towel.”

I could feel his eyes traveling over me, appreciating my strong back and shoulders and the curve of my waist where it met my hips. He whistled. “From the back, you can’t even tell.”

“Now turn around,” he directed. “Slowly.”

I complied, and he closed his laptop and set it aside. Although it was winter and the wind was howling outside, Grant was wearing only his undershorts, which was all he ever slept in. His cock was beginning to rise, and he slipped a hand under his waistband to help it along as he watched me.

His eyes continued their tour as I turned and faced him, appraising first my legs — more shapely than ever with all of the farm work I had been doing since marrying Grant more than nine months before — then gliding upward to the gentle swell of my growing stomach. He paused to smile at his handiwork, then gazed further upward at my tender but suddenly voluptuous breasts, subconsciously biting his lip as he did so. Finally his eyes met mine, and he gave me a look of admiration and love, tinged unmistakably with desire. Breaking his gaze, I glanced down at his groin and saw that he was now fully erect, his member solid and pulsing in front of him.

I lifted my eyes to his again, cocked an eyebrow, and shook my head, laughing. Since I had relieved him of his virginity, his enthusiasm had never waned. Even in my current condition, he lusted after me with the abandon of a teenager. Before I knew it, he was out of his shorts and off the bed, moving toward me. “I need to do more than just look. I have to touch.”

I was beginning to get chilly, so I was grateful to be enveloped in his warmth as he reached out and took me into his arms. He ran his hands along my jawline and down my neck to my shoulders, tracing them down the length of my arms and lacing his fingers into mine. He raised both of my hands to his mouth and kissed them, then gently disentangled his fingers and continued his exploration of my body.

He didn’t get far before he stopped again. “I know I have to be careful,” he murmured, having learned from experience that being anything but would get his hand swatted away, “but these are truly incredible.” His big, warm hands, which ordinarily had no trouble covering my breasts, were no longer up to the task. Instead, he softly cupped them, one in each hand, enjoying their new weight as he did so. Growing bolder, he reached up with his thumbs to stroke my nipples, causing them to harden under his touch and wetness to flow between my legs. Involuntarily, I pressed my hips into him, trapping his erection between us, his cock throbbing against the swelling in my abdomen it had helped to create.

He took a step back and ran his hands downward to my stomach, laying a flattened palm over the top as he so often did these days, protectively, and as if hoping he would he would be rewarded with some kind of response. “Still a bit too early for that,” I said. “I’ll let you know when the kicking starts.”

“I know,” Grant said, somewhat sheepishly. The man knew everything there was to know about breeding horses, but human reproduction remained a bit of a mystery to him. “Anyway, there’s still plenty of you I haven’t gotten to yet.”

He slid one of his hands around my waist to the small of my back and then further south to grab the flesh of of my backside. The other hand he moved down from my stomach to my mound, using his thumb to part my lips and find its way to my rapidly engorging clit. I couldn’t help but sigh as he brushed his thumb gently against it, arousing me even more and causing my legs to part slightly in anticipation of his hand moving even lower. His prick surged against me as he felt my slick warmth, a proxy for how much I wanted him. Except for a couple of weeks when I had struggled with nausea, my own desire for him had continued unabated as well.

“Let’s see,” Grant mused. “I’ve already seen and touched, so I guess I should move on to . . ." he stopped to consider which sense he wanted to use next, ". . . smell.”

Sitting me down on the edge of the bed, he spread my legs to stand between them. With his hands on my shoulders, he eased me back onto the mattress, then lowered himself to his knees and inclined his head to breathe in my soaking pussy. I was a bit self-conscious about many of the changes this pregnancy was bringing to my body, but I was especially so about my new “aroma,” as it were. I was worried it was a bit strong, but for Grant, it was nothing short of an aphrodisiac. “Oh,” he moaned, “you always smell good, but that’s amazing. You’re just so, so . . . fertile.” I giggled a bit at him reaching for a way to describe my scent. “Laugh if you want,” he said, “but you’re even more intoxicating than usual.”

“In fact,” he continued, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop myself from getting a taste.” With that he dropped his head again, and took my clit into his mouth probing it with his tongue, causing me to gasp, and pleasure to course through me. He continued his oral assault on my quivering pussy until I had to push him away.

“Stop. I want to come with you inside me.”

“So, you’re ready for me?” he asked, somewhat unnecessarily. Surely he could see, feel, taste, and smell how badly I needed him to penetrate me.

“God, yes!” Then I suddenly had a thought, “Haven’t you forgotten about a sense?”

A grin crept across his face, and there was a glint in his eye. “Don’t worry, by the time I’m through with you, I’m definitely going to hear you scream.”