Her husband calls

“Yes,” I said, voice low and rough. “Answer it.”

Lisa’s eyes went wide, but she didn’t hesitate. The phone was already in her hand. She swiped to accept the call and brought it to her ear, even as my cock—still half-hard and buried deep inside her—gave a heavy twitch.

“Hey, babe,” she said, and her voice was impressively steady. Light. Casual. Like she wasn’t currently stretched around another man’s cock with her massively pregnant belly rising between us. “Yeah, I’m still at Sue’s. We’re just chatting. I’ll probably crash here if it gets late.”

I couldn’t help it. I started to move.

Slow, deep strokes. Pulling almost all the way out of her soaked pussy before sinking back in until my hips pressed against the firm underside of her belly. Lisa’s breath hitched, just slightly. Her free hand flew to my wrist where it rested on her thigh, squeezing hard in warning—or maybe encouragement.

Her husband’s voice was a faint, tinny murmur from the phone. I couldn’t make out the words, but I didn’t need to. The sound of it while I was inside his wife was enough.

He made her feel like something other than his wife.

The thought landed heavy and hot in my chest. This is his fault. His loss.

Lisa was still talking, nodding along to whatever he was saying, but her pussy was clenching around me in rhythmic little pulses. Every time I bottomed out, her walls fluttered. She was getting wetter. I could feel it—slick, warm, obscene.

“Mm-hmm,” she said into the phone, eyes locked on mine. “The baby’s been really active tonight. Kicking a lot. Yeah, it’s keeping me up.”

I slid my hand up from her thigh, over the taut, stretched curve of her belly, and cupped one heavy, milk-heavy tit through the dress. Her nipple was already leaking again. I pinched it gently and watched her eyes flutter. A tiny wet spot bloomed darker on the black fabric.

Wow, I thought, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut. Is this what you’ve been missing?

She’d been starving for this. For touch. For someone who looked at her like this—so massively pregnant, so full and ripe and undeniably sexual—and still wanted to fuck her senseless.

Her husband kept talking. Something about work, or dinner, or I don’t know. I wasn’t listening. I was too busy watching the way Lisa’s huge belly shifted with every slow thrust, the way her tits jiggled, the way she had to bite her lip to keep from moaning when I ground deep and circled my hips.

I leaned in closer, my mouth near her ear, and whispered so only she could hear:

“You’re so fucking wet right now. You like this, don’t you? Being stuffed full while he’s on the phone thinking you’re just tired from the baby.”

She shot me a ****, warning look, but her pussy betrayed her—squeezing me so tight I had to bite back a groan.

On the phone, her husband said something that made her answer, “No, I’m fine. Just… lying down. My back’s been killing me.”

I took that as an invitation.

I shifted my angle, fucking her in short, deliberate strokes that made the head of my cock drag right over that swollen spot inside her. My hand stayed on her belly, feeling the life inside move while I claimed the body carrying it. The taboo of it—the sheer wrongness—should have killed my erection.

It didn’t.

It made me harder.

You’ll be the last person to ever be inside of her like this.

The thought came out of nowhere, dark and possessive and so fucking hot it made my cock throb inside her. This version of her—eight and a half months, belly huge and tight, tits leaking, pussy greedy and ****—wouldn’t last forever. After the baby came, her body would change again. But right now, in this moment, I was the one stretching her. I was the one making her drip down my balls while her husband talked in her ear. I was the one she was risking everything for.

Lisa’s breathing was getting shaky. She was close. I could feel it in the way her thighs trembled, in the way her pussy started to flutter and grip in that telltale rhythm.

She tried to wrap up the call. “Babe, I should go. I’m getting really tired and—ah—”

She cut off with a sharp inhale as I thrust harder, burying myself to the hilt and grinding against her clit with the base of my cock. Her free hand flew to her mouth, muffling the sound.

There was a pause on the other end. Her husband asked if she was okay.

“I’m fine,” she managed, voice tight. “Just… the baby kicked really hard. Scared me for a second.”

I didn’t stop moving. Couldn’t. My hand slid higher on her belly, possessive, while I fucked her in slow, deep strokes that made wet, filthy sounds I prayed the phone didn’t pick up.

His loss.

The words burned in my head like a brand.

When she finally hung up—after another minute of strained small talk and a quick “love you too”—the second the call disconnected, she dropped the phone onto the couch and let out a broken moan.

“Fuck—Ryan—”

I didn’t give her time to recover. I hooked my arms under her thick thighs, careful of her belly, and started fucking her properly. Harder. The couch creaked. Her massive tits bounced with every thrust, milk spots spreading on the dress. Her belly rose between us like a perfect, obscene centerpiece.

“You liked that,” I growled, not a question. “You got so fucking tight when he was on the phone.”

She nodded frantically, eyes glassy with lust. “Couldn’t help it. You were so deep and I had to—ah—had to sound normal while you were fucking me—”

I leaned down and sucked one leaking nipple through the fabric, tasting her milk again. She cried out, back arching as much as the belly allowed.

“Tell me,” I demanded against her skin. “Tell me what you were thinking while you were talking to him.”

She grabbed my hair, pulling me up to look at her. Her voice was wrecked.

“I was thinking… that he has no idea. That he gave this up. That you’re the one inside me right now—stretching my pregnant pussy—while he thinks I’m just resting.” Her eyes were wild. “And I was thinking… I don’t want anyone else to have me like this. Not after tonight. You’re—fuck—you’re going to be the last person to ever be inside me while I’m this big. This full. This—”

She came mid-sentence.

Hard.

Her pussy clamped down like a vice, pulsing around my cock in rhythmic waves. Her belly tightened visibly under my hand. She wailed, thighs shaking, and I followed her over the edge with a groan, pumping another thick load deep inside her while she was still spasming around me.

We stayed locked together, panting, my cock twitching with the last pulses of cum, her belly rising and falling between us.

Lisa’s hand found mine on her stomach. She laced our fingers together over the tight, warm curve.

Her voice was soft when she finally spoke.

“You felt it too, didn’t you?” She looked at me with something between satisfaction and quiet awe. “The way it changed when he was on the phone. You got harder. Meaner. Like you were… claiming something that wasn’t yours.”

I didn’t answer right away.

Because she was right.

And I wasn’t sure what the fuck that said about me.

But I also wasn’t pulling out.

Not yet.