Nine Months, Gigantic Curves & Giggles

The scent of lavender and impending motherhood hung heavy in the air, a strange mix of serenity and anticipation. It had been nine months since we'd exchanged vows, nine months of building a life, and now, just shy of my due date, my body was a testament to the miracle within. My belly, a glorious, rounded sphere, strained against the elastic of my skin, and my breasts, well, they were simply monumental – truly gigantuous, as I’d once described them to a friend. My husband, Elijah, was a force of nature, a deep, dark brown that deepened with every passing summer. By the end of July, his skin resembled polished ebony, a beautiful contrast to my own light complexion.

We were in the bedroom, bathed in the gentle glow of the setting sun filtering through the sheer linen curtains. The air was warm, carrying the faintest hint of honeysuckle from the garden below. I was riding him, a familiar comfort in the face of the looming birth, a rhythmic pulse of pleasure that echoed the insistent throb in my womb. I moved slowly, deliberately, enjoying the pressure against my hips, the heat radiating from his body, the deep, primal connection between us. Elijah’s hands moved over me with a slow, deliberate tenderness, exploring every curve and hollow, his touch igniting a fire within me. His fingers traced the swell of my breasts, pulling gently, teasingly, before descending to my pussy. The anticipation built, a crescendo of desire, threatening to overwhelm me. I could feel the waves of pleasure building, a powerful, insistent force pushing me closer and closer to the brink.

His eyes, a captivating shade of jet black, held an intensity that both thrilled and worried me. I knew he was thinking about the baby, about the responsibility that lay ahead, but in that moment, I just wanted to lose myself in the sensation, to surrender to the pleasure. He gave me a crooked grin, a flash of white teeth against his dark face, and whispered, “Baby, I love you.” The words, simple yet profound, resonated deep within my soul, grounding me in the present moment.

And then, I let go.

It wasn't just an orgasm; it was an explosion, a torrent of pure, unadulterated pleasure that ripped through my body. My eyes squeezed shut as powerful contractions seized me, a wave of intense pleasure washing over every inch of my being. I arched my back, digging my heels into his flesh, amplifying the sensation. My nipples burned with heat, my muscles clenched and released in a desperate attempt to contain the overwhelming force of desire. Mmmmmm, Mmmmmm, Mmmmmm – the sounds escaped me involuntarily, primal cries of ecstasy.

Suddenly, a surprised gasp ripped through the air. "What the…?" Elijah’s voice held a note of disbelief, a hint of bewildered amusement. I opened my eyes to a truly surreal sight. My breasts were overflowing with milk, a creamy, white deluge cascading down my chest and onto his body. It was like a pair of miniature fountains, squirting onto his chest, dripping down his neck, and pooling in the curve of his navel. The stark contrast of the milky liquid against his dark skin was both beautiful and strangely arresting. It looked like some kind of sexual zebra, a bizarre, captivating image that I knew I would never forget. I couldn’t help but smile, a wide, unrestrained grin that stretched across my face. He could be a bit sensitive, but there was a joy in this moment, a shared sense of wonder and delight.

As the initial shock wore off, I began to giggle, then laugh, and then full-blown hysterical laughter consumed me. It was infectious, and soon, Elijah joined in, his own laughter echoing through the room. We lay there, breathless and flushed, the remnants of our shared ecstasy clinging to us like a fragrant perfume. The milk continued to flow, a steady stream of nourishment and pleasure. Instinctively, I reached out and began to direct the flow, angling my breasts so that the creamy liquid landed directly into his mouth. He moaned with pleasure, his eyes closed, lost in the sensation. It felt so natural, so right, this shared expression of desire and joy.

We continued to laugh, to make love, lost in a world of shared pleasure and mutual adoration. The milk eventually subsided, a gentle trickle fading away, leaving behind only the lingering warmth of our bodies. As the last drops dried, I climbed off and kneeled beside him, my heart pounding with a mixture of exhaustion and exhilaration. I licked my own milk off my body, tongue tracing the contours of my breasts, then moved on to his lovely manhood, devouring him with a passionate intensity that bordered on frenzied. The pleasure was exquisite, a culmination of everything we had shared, everything we had hoped for. I pushed further, deeper, ignoring the boundaries of propriety, lost in the throes of my own sensuality. It was the best oral sex I’d ever experienced, a testament to the power of our connection.

Just a few days later, our baby girl was born, a tiny, perfect being who brought a new wave of joy and fulfillment to our lives. But as the weeks passed, I noticed something peculiar. Elijah seemed to be drinking more out of me than she did, his eyes holding a constant longing, a deep-seated need for my touch, my love, my presence. It wasn’t a bitter feeling, not at all. It was simply a confirmation of the incredible intimacy we had forged, a testament to the depths of our passion. Looking back on that evening, on the sheer, unadulterated joy of our shared pleasure, I realized that it wasn’t just a funny, sweet accident; it was the beginning of something truly extraordinary, a beautiful, unforgettable chapter in the story of our love. It was the night we made love and laughter, the night we discovered the true meaning of connection, the night we welcomed the arrival of our little girl, and the night our world shifted on its axis. The image of his body, dripping with the milky evidence of our shared ecstasy, remains etched in my memory, a constant reminder of the power of love, the beauty of desire, and the joy of simply being alive.

Mom sex stories

Nine Months, Gigantic Curves & Giggles

Did you like this story? Nine Months, Gigantic Curves & Giggles look, but like these, here Mom sex stories.