Kick her out (for now!)

While I was pulling my jeans back up — the denim sticking to my sticky thighs — I noticed the pictures on the wall for the first time. There were a lot of them. Like, a whole collage of framed photos and some just taped up crookedly. All young women, probably around my age, maybe a year or two older. Tall, skinny, long legs — kind of like me. Some blondes, some redheads, a couple brunettes. Different chest sizes: some small and perky like mine, some bigger and rounder. But every single one of them had that same unmistakable pregnant belly — round, smooth, proud-looking. Some of them were smiling straight at the camera, hands cradling their bumps like they were showing off a prize. Others were turned sideways, showing off the curve. A few were even topless, bellies oiled up and shiny.

I tilted my head, curious.

“Do you know these women?” I asked, still zipping my jeans. “Who took these pictures?”

He didn’t even look up from his phone.

“Don’t ask stupid questions, my little slut. Just get your ass home and don’t forget to shower before you go to bed with your husband tonight.”

I laughed softly — the idea of not showering never even crossed my mind.

“Oh yeah, definitely,” I said. “My husband and I already had sex last week. He knows he can’t have me right now. Not even with a condom on. It’s way too risky because it’s my fertile time and I really don’t want kids yet.”

“Jeah sure,” he muttered, nodding like he was barely listening.

This fucking whore. I hope that poor idiot husband leaves her the second he finds out she cheated. She’s just another knocked-up hottie idiot girl now. He actually chuckled under his breath, a low, satisfied sound.

I didn’t hear the chuckle. I just saw him smile a little and thought maybe he was remembering how good it felt.

“Okay, see you then,” I said brightly, stepping close. “And remember to contact me again, okay baby?”

I leaned up and gave him a deep, slow French kiss — tongue and everything — so he’d really remember my taste, remember me. He let me for a few seconds, then his big hand grabbed a handful of my ass, squeezed hard, and used it to slowly push me toward the door.

“Out.”

I giggled as I stumbled into the hallway.

The door clicked shut behind me.

I made it halfway down the dim stairwell before I felt the warm, creamy stuff sliding down both inner thighs again — thicker this time, more of it. It was already soaking into the crotch of my panties.

Ugh, must be all my pussy juice, I thought, rolling my eyes at myself. I got so wet tonight. Better wash it off quick so the taxi driver doesn’t get any bad ideas.

I stopped at the little grimy sink on the landing, yanked some paper towels from the dispenser, and wiped myself down between my legs as best I could. The stuff was sticky, kind of stringy, but I just figured that’s what happens when you get really turned on. I tossed the towels in the trash, tugged my jeans back into place, and kept walking.

Outside, the taxi was already waiting under the mall’s flickering exit light. I slid into the back seat, gave the driver my address in a soft, slightly slurred voice, and leaned my head against the cool window.

The car started moving and I closed my eyes for a second. There was this warm, fluttery, tingly feeling deep in my tummy — like butterflies, but heavier. Fuller. Almost like something was gently stretching inside me. It felt… nice. Cozy. Exciting. I smiled to myself in the dark backseat.

What a crazy night, I thought. Kind of gross in that back room, but also kind of hot. And he said he’d get in touch. Maybe we’ll do it again sometime. Just once more. No harm done.

My hand drifted down and rested lightly over my flat stomach without thinking. The butterflies kept fluttering.

I was still a little drunk, legs shaky, head fuzzy, but also buzzing with leftover pleasure. Mostly I was just looking forward to getting home — my own soft bed, my husband’s quiet breathing next to me, the smell of our sheets. A hot shower. Pajamas. Sleep.

Tomorrow everything would be normal again. Just like always.

Easy.

I sighed happily and watched the city lights streak past the window, that warm tingle still spreading slowly through my belly.

Everything felt perfect.