Epilogue: Gratuitous Public Pregnant Sex

Three weeks into their honeymoon cruise, and Lois Blaze-Lane admired how dark her tan was, especially against the few bits of pale skin around her breasts and crotch that the sun hadn't been able to touch. The way her belly was growing, soon she wouldn't even be able to see her pussy, not without a couple of mirrors. The pregnant reporter's wife had been buying her skimpier and skimpier swimsuits, the kinds barely decent in public...and few that weren't at all.

"Honey, you can see my butthole," Lois protested as she turned to look at the slim teal thong that disappeared up her backside. Her ass had gotten bigger over the last few weeks, care of the excellent food on the cruise ship and plenty of time lazing about in the sun as Blaze rubbed cocoa butter into her skin. Lois had churned through a book a day just soaking up the rays.

"We're going swimming," the dickgirl said...and Blaze's swimsuit was much more modest, a pair of swim trunks and a sports bra, basically. Her own skin had turned a deeper shade of olive, though Lois wasn't sure if that was actually from the sun, or just something the demon did to keep people from getting suspicious. "No one's going to see."

Caribbean sun. White sandy beach. Water clear as a great glass, and warm as blood. There were days in her pregnancy when Lois felt like a whale, huge and ungainly. At four months, she was having trouble finding a good position to sleep in, her breasts were sore, and while the morning sickness had ended the need to pee had increased, and she swore her ankles were swelling.

Yet in the water...it was like being in a great warm salt bath. All the aches and pains soothed away. Her heavy body buoyant. People played on the beach, and some of the women even took their tops off, the young men and women trying not to stare at their mothers and aunts.

Out beyond where the sandy bottom dropped away, Lois Blaze-Lane tread water...and her wife came up behind her, silent as she swam, a great blue foam board in her hands. The smile she wore now was not her normal Mona Lisa grin; it was the hungry smile that normally had a fin on top.

"How long can you keep that up?" Angie whispered.

"A while," Lois said. She cast a worried glance toward the shore. People could see them...

Then Blaze was behind her. Against her. Lois Lane's top floated up about her neck, and her chin dipped below the water, just for a moment. The next, her wife had half-pushed the board under the pregnant woman's arms, and Lois felt the thin thong pull away from her ass and pussy.

"Oh Angie," Lois blushed as she hung onto the foam board. She couldn't really kick her legs to keep afloat otherwise. "Here? There are people watching!"

"Good," Blaze said as the head of her cock stabbed and missed at her wife's pregnant pussy. With a grunt of satisfaction, the dickgirl's cockhead finally found its home. "Let them get an eyeful. See what they're missing."

Maybe it was the pitiless sun beating down that made Lois Lane's body so hot. Or the warmth of the water. Or the heat of Blaze's body as she moved with Lois, the two locked together and holding the board. Without the flotation device, Lois had no doubt they would both immediately begin to sink...but with it...they simply bobbed in place, carried by the waves...the cock plunging in and out, in and out...

People were watching them. Her wife was balls deep inside of her pregnant cunt. The top of her tits were actually rubbing against the bottom of the foam board, her legs just floating there, cunt squeezing, and...

There was a time, Lois Lane knew, when she didn't use to orgasm during sex. It had always felt good, but she's rarely if ever been able to actually climax with someone else. Now...she didn't know if it was Angie's magic or her magic touch, or maybe just the fact that here she was, getting absolutely fucked raw, the water sliding around inside her hot canal, and she knew when Angie blew her load inside of her, she'd be dripping cum into the sea...

"Mmmmh!" The demonic dickgirl's hand came up to muffle Lois Lane's wife scream as she came. Above, the gulls wheeled. Maybe some of the people on the beach thought that was all the sound was. The scream of a bird.

"We should head in," Blaze said, as she fixed her wife's thong back into place. "You don't want to get wrinkled."

"Hmm," Lois mumbled in post-coital bliss. her legs felt weak and wobbly, but as Blaze let go, the pregnant reporter was still clinging to the board, and could make her way back toward shore under her own power. "Babe?"

"Yes, sweetmeat?"

"I think..." Lois felt her cheeks burn, and knew it was more than the sunlight tanning her flesh. "...I'd like to do this again, sometime."

"Of course, love," the demon moved with strong, sure strokes through the water.