Fertile Frenzy: Pickles & Ice Cream

The thought of a baby, a tiny, wriggling life blossoming within me, filled me with an overwhelming sense of joy. It was a primal, instinctive feeling, one that bypassed logic and went straight to the core of my being. As I gripped the hard shaft of my husband’s penis in one hand, sucking eagerly, while still firmly clutching the positive home pregnancy test in my other, the sheer excitement threatened to overwhelm me. Just moments before, I’d burst into the bathroom, tackled him on the bed in a flurry of hugs and kisses, sharing the unbelievable news with unrestrained glee. Then, almost immediately, I’d stripped him of his boxers and descended upon him, a torrent of desire unleashed.

Some women shy away from oral stimulation during pregnancy, citing the potential for nausea. The thought of a cock in their mouths, combined with the morning sickness, could easily ruin their appetite. But I wasn’t one of those women. My cravings were decidedly more unique, far more primal. During my own pregnancy, I’d found myself inexplicably yearning for my husband's prick and cream, a sensation that both thrilled and terrified me. It was an odd, twisted desire, one that set me apart from the norm.

Before meeting my husband, I’d considered myself a virgin, a concept that seemed quaint and distant now. We had experienced our first time together on our wedding night, a momentous occasion that marked the beginning of our shared intimacy. But the experience was further enhanced by the introduction of genital sex, the physical union of our bodies taking on a deeper, more profound significance. The idea of conceiving a child together, of creating a new life from our own bodies, felt like a sacred act, a merging of souls. I delighted in the thought of his seed taking root in my fertile garden, nurturing a new beginning.

Months passed, filled with hopeful anticipation and the occasional pang of disappointment. We diligently tracked my ovulation cycles, scheduling our fellatio sessions for the most fertile days. The frequency of oral stimulation gradually decreased, as we both focused on maximizing the chances of conception. I missed the sensation of his velvety smooth glans gliding across my tongue, the electric tingle that ran through my body with each lick and suck. He, too, missed the pleasure of receiving my oral attention, the rush of anticipation that built as he awaited my arrival. Yet, we were united in our singular purpose – to bring forth a healthy, happy baby. After several more months of dedicated efforts, we finally decided to seek professional assistance, scheduling a consultation at a fertility clinic.

The discovery of my pregnancy earlier that morning had unleashed a torrent of pent-up desire within me. The urge to revisit the familiar comfort of his penis was simply too strong to resist. Without hesitation, I launched myself at him, clinging to his shaft as I sucked with desperate urgency. I wanted to shower my husband, my baby’s father, with a blowjob that would be forever etched in his memory, a celebration of our impending parenthood. He lay back on the bed, his hands behind his head, a silent observer to my passionate display.

The feeling of his velvety smooth glans gliding across my tongue was utterly intoxicating. I savored the first delicate taste of his pre-seminal nectar, letting it linger on my taste buds. The tickle of his pubic hair on my chin and nose added another layer of sensation, heightening my arousal. My lips tingled with the electric current of his blood flowing through the engorged veins of his shaft. His scent, rich with masculine pheromones, emanating from his crotch, stirred a deep, primal hunger within me, a sensation that could only be satisfied through the act of fellatio.

I knew he would ejaculate quickly if I sucked too voraciously, so I took my time, prolonging his pleasure and maximizing his orgasm. I desperately wanted to reward him with my oral expertise, a testament to my love and devotion. I lifted my head, letting his erection slip from my mouth. It glistened with my saliva, a testament to the intensity of our encounter. I blew gently on it, watching his pulsating response, a silent acknowledgment of my dominance. Then, I licked his scrotum and took each ball into my mouth, rolling it around with my tongue. Finally, I shifted into a favorite position, resting my head on his abdomen as I took his penis back into my mouth and sucked languidly. My tongue flicked over the sensitive frenulum, eliciting a throb in his glans.

My husband had waited patiently for months to be blown, but I could feel the inevitable approaching, his breathing quickening and his heart racing. His erection strained at full capacity, on the verge of erupting. No matter how many times I performed fellatio on him, this pivotal moment of primal release never lost its thrill. The ability to bring my man to the brink of ecstasy with just my mouth was a gift of selfless love, a testament to our intimate connection. His abdomen tensed against my cheek, and he raised his hips as the first spurt of his warm semen coated my upper palate. Another spurt followed, coating my tongue. I received his salty offering willingly, swallowing without hesitation. Afterward, as I gently nursed on his spent member, the slightly bitter aftertaste lingering in the back of my throat, I couldn't help but wonder if it was appropriate to swallow during pregnancy.

A few days later, during my first ob/gyn appointment, my husband accompanied me. We were both excited about the prospect of becoming parents and eager to discuss our growing belly with the doctor. After the examination, the topic of sex arose, and she explained that we could continue our active sex life as usual. I glanced conspiratorially at my husband and asked her what constituted "normal." She burst out laughing and assured me that the baby was well protected and would be perfectly fine. She mentioned that my hormones would be all over the place, leading to unpredictable fluctuations in my libido. Some days, I might feel like a nymphomaniac, while on others, my desires might be subdued. So, I hesitantly inquired about fellatio, bracing myself for her judgment. She smiled knowingly at my husband and asked if he had made me ask about that. He simply grinned sheepishly. She then offered a reassuring statement, suggesting that if I were concerned about ingesting semen, there was no need to worry. She explained that it was completely harmless, even beneficial. With a wink, she made her way to the door, leaving us both in a state of bewildered amusement. She wasn't kidding, was she? We exchanged a nervous glance, both wondering if this was truly the best course of action.

Without hesitation, we decided to take advantage of the opportunity. My husband quickly stood up, dropped his pants around his ankles, and presented his limp, yet thickening penis, dangled tantalizingly before me. I leaned over and kissed the head, offering a silent greeting. Then, I looked up at his face, searching for the telltale signs of lust. His expression was undeniably suggestive, confirming my suspicions. His penis quickly rose to the occasion, eager to fulfill our shared desire. I eagerly parted my moist lips and took his stiffening erection into the wet warmth of my waiting mouth. It was time for another round of intense, passionate pleasure.

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