Except I've never been as comfortable with anyone in my entire life doing that to me as I am with Kyle. I'm not saying I never enjoyed it previously, let's not be crazy. But there's something in the dynamic between us that's different. Easier. Better.

I'm so screwed. I'm in love with my husband.

"Be naked with me." I tug at the soft knit pajama bottoms he wears to bed, trying to get them over his hips even though my arms aren't long enough to do the job myself. I get them far enough to free his dick and then grasp it, eager to get my hands on him. I know I just came but already I want more. I want to feel the long hard length of him inside of me. I ache for it, my body eager and wanting. Empty and needy. Good Lord, this pregnancy really has turned me into a little nympho. I've read far enough in the pregnancy books to know it's normal, albeit somewhat lucky because I could have just as easily had a miserable pregnancy filled with nausea. But I feel great. Hornier than I've ever felt in my life, but great. "I like looking too, you know."

Kyle laughs and drags his pants free and then I run one hand down his chest while fisting his cock again with my other. I know he runs a few times a week, alternating with weight training, and it shows. I usually hit the gym after he's left for work, but I might start joining him just to lurk because watching him work out while I work out is a way better option than watching the news on an overhead television.

He kisses me while I fist him. His lips still taste of me and it's so primal and filthy and I love it.

"I love that you were a born-again virgin when I found you," I tell him between kisses.

"I wouldn't quite put it that way." He smiles into our kiss. "But I'm happy if it gets you off."

"I'm greedy. I want you all for myself." I wonder if that's too close to the truth, but I can't help myself. It's true.

"You have me," he replies and I stop breathing for a second. Do I? Do I really?

I start to slide down the bed, intent on taking him in my mouth, but he stops me.

"I want to come inside of you."

"Oh, good." I climb back up and kiss his lips. "We want the same thing."

"Ride me." He taps my thigh. "So I can look at you."

"Pervert."

"Just trying to keep up with you." He winks, and it's official. Winking in bed is my new favorite thing.

I bite my lip and sit up, straddling him. Then I fist his cock and lower myself onto it while, yes, he watches. And there it is—that feeling I wanted. Pressure, stretching, fullness.

"You're so beautiful," he says, eyes darkening. He's rock-hard inside of me so I'm not exactly doubting that he finds me attractive, but it's still nice to hear. But more than that, it's nice to see. Because the desire on his face is evident, even if I'm unsure about everything else happening between us.

I rock myself on him. Seated deep and joined like this, he feels incredible. Who am I kidding? We haven't tried a position yet that hasn't felt incredible. I lean forward so I can get friction on my clit with each bounce of my hips. Kyle sucks one of my nipples between his lips and palms my ass and I feel like I might be some unicorn of a woman who could come in under five minutes but I hold off, because holding off is even better. Then Kyle's finger slides lower and he's rimming my asshole with it before pressing inside and oh, fuck—

"No, no, no," I pant, my head dropping to his chest and my body tightening everywhere.

Kyle pauses. "No as in stop, or no as in you're going to come all over my cock?"

"The second one," I manage to get out and then his wicked finger is pressing deeper as I continue to ride him, the pressure building and building and I cannot possibly come again this soon. But I do, tightening around his cock and his finger in spasms, my breathing erratic.

When I've regained myself I sit up again, intent on finally getting him off if it kills me, before I turn into a selfish orgasm hoarder.

He licks his thumb, his tongue swiping across the pad while I watch, oddly entranced by the simple movement. Then he drops it between us and uses it to rub my clit. Holy hell, I've never seen him do that before and I nearly break my vow and come, just watching him do that. Wetting his thumb before he manipulates me with it so it's slicker is just... I don't know, but it does things to me. Now he's watching himself sliding in and out of me so I steady myself, holding his free hand for support, and slide myself onto him, up and down, tightening myself around him with every outward stroke. When he gets close he takes over, gripping my waist and controlling the pace by lifting me up and down as he hammers into me from below. Then he comes, finishing on three erratic thrusts as he empties inside of me, and God help me, I'm coming again too.

I slump, fully sated, onto his chest. I can hear his heart beating beneath me and I spread my fingers across his chest, enjoying the moment. "Will you still want to do this with me when my stomach is the size of Tubbs-McGee?" I scratch my nails lightly across his skin, whisper-soft.

Kyle runs his fingers through my hair and I want to purr, it feels so good. "I've read that sex is believed to stimulate labor, and since I can't help with the actual labor, I'll be happy to do my part getting you there."

"You read too much." I'm side-eyeing him but he can't see it because my face is still pressed against his chest.

"The studies available are limited, but it's thought that the contractions of the uterus might help induce labor, if your body is ready."

"You're a weirdo."

"It's thought that sperm contains some kind of fatty acids that aid in thinning and dilating the cervix and jump-starting contractions."

"You're making that up." Is he for real right now? I raise my head so I can look at him. "Is this what you and your cousin talk about on your jogs?" I'm pretty sure I can't hide the horror on my face.

"No, I told you, I read some articles. A few medical studies I found online," he adds like this is normal. "To be honest, the results were inconclusive, at best. The important part is that it's not thought to be harmful, so whatever you need. I'm here for you."

This time he can't miss my side-eye.

"A of all, I wasn't asking if you were willing to fuck me when I'm the size of the largest cat I've ever seen, I asked if you'd want to. Big difference."

"Of course I'd want to," he replies like I'm the one who's dense.

"B of all, the next words out of your mouth should have been 'Babe, you'll never be as fat as Tubbs-McGee.' In fact, for future reference, if I ever ask you if I look fat, the only appropriate response is to say no and look so shocked by the question that you need to jump backwards or gasp.”

"Oh, come on. I've never called you babe. And he can hear you." He points in the direction of the lounger where Tubbs-McGee has finally relented to falling asleep despite the hindrance of the lamp and the noise of our sexual tryst.

"C of all, you really are a nerd." I whack Kyle with a pillow before climbing off of him onto my side of the bed. Where I promptly lie down facing the opposite direction. I make a mental note to look at his iPad while he's at work so I can see what else he's so busy researching, but in my head the word ‘researching’ comes out like a big bad vulgar word. Research. Jerk. What if I want to have sex all the time when I'm the size of a house and he's just placating me? He has no idea what I'm going through. Wait, he probably does. Because he researched. I glare at the wall and try to reason with myself because I'm almost certain I'm being hormonally moody. But really, what if he finds me repulsive after I birth a human out of my vagina? What if he only married me because he's Mr Good Guy and he'd never, ever have married me otherwise? What if Tubbs-McGee hates the baby?