Mia's house

I didn’t text Sue.

Not yet.

Something about this one felt different from the rush with Lisa, and I wasn’t ready to hand it over to her just yet. I slipped my phone into my pocket as Mia pulled out of the car park and headed toward her place.

The drive was short. She lived in a quiet, modern townhouse on the edge of a newer estate. We didn’t talk much on the way — just the low hum of the radio and the occasional glance between us. The air in the car was still thick with what we’d just done.

When we got inside, she didn’t bother turning on many lights. Just the under-cabinet lighting in the kitchen. She kicked off her shoes, dropped her gym bag by the door, and walked straight to the fridge.

“Sit,” she said, nodding toward the island bench. “I’m too hungry to be polite right now.”

I pulled off my hoodie and left it on the back of a chair, staying in just my shorts. Mia didn’t bother changing either — she stayed in the black tank top and the leggings she’d pulled back up after the car. Her belly looked even more pronounced now that we were in proper lighting.

We sat across from each other at the kitchen island, burgers and fries spread out between us like it was a completely normal 4am meal.

For a few minutes we just ate in comfortable silence. Mia made small, satisfied sounds as she ate, one hand occasionally resting on the top of her belly. I couldn’t stop looking at her. The way her tank top stretched over her chest and bump. The faint marks on her skin from where my hands had been earlier. The fact that she was sitting here half-dressed, eating burgers with a guy she’d just let eat her out in a car park.

Eventually she glanced up at me, chewing slowly.

“So,” she said, voice casual but curious. “That dream you had. The one that had you showing up at the gym at 3am.” She took a sip of her drink. “You said there were two pregnant women. Were they… together? Or was it more you with both of them?”

I wiped my hands on a napkin, considering how honest to be.

“They were together,” I admitted. “Touching. Kissing. And I was with both of them.”

Mia’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but she didn’t look shocked. If anything, she looked intrigued.

“Interesting,” she murmured. She popped a fry into her mouth, then added, “And now here you are. In my kitchen. After making me come so hard in my car that my legs are still a bit shaky.”

She said it matter-of-factly, but there was heat underneath it.

I leaned forward on my elbows, watching her.

“You seemed like you needed it,” I said. “And I wasn’t lying earlier. I’ve been thinking about pregnant women a lot lately.”

Mia held my gaze for a long moment, then let out a soft breath and looked down at her belly, running her hand over the curve of it.

“My husband used to be obsessed with it,” she said quietly. “When I first started showing. Couldn’t keep his hands off me. Couldn’t stop telling me how hot I looked.” She gave a small, slightly bitter smile. “Now he barely touches me. Says he doesn’t want to hurt the baby. Like I’m suddenly made of porcelain instead of just… bigger.”

She looked back up at me.

“So yeah. Tonight felt good. Really good.”

We kept eating, the conversation drifting between lighter topics and heavier ones. She asked a few careful questions about me — how long I’d been into this, whether it was new. I gave her honest but vague answers, keeping Lisa and Sue out of it for now.

Eventually the food was gone. Mia wiped her hands and stood up, stretching with a small wince as she supported her lower back with one hand. Her belly pushed out even more with the movement.

She looked at me across the island.

“Shower?” she asked. “I’ve got a big one. Two heads. Plenty of room.” She tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re welcome to join me. Or you can head home. No pressure.”

She rested both hands on her belly, waiting.