Pregnant Heat: Larry's Morning Tease

The morning sickness had finally subsided, leaving me in a strange, persistent state of arousal – a pregnant woman’s horniness, as it were. My days were consumed by the demands of my part-time job at a travel agency and the early morning meetings with Larry, my husband. Yet, beneath the surface of my responsibilities, a primal hunger simmered, fueled by vivid, insistent dreams. Last night, those dreams had been particularly potent, featuring Larry teasing me across the street, his touch igniting a fire in my belly. It felt both absurd and utterly captivating.

As I rose to answer the phone, the memory lingered, a phantom sensation of anticipation. “Hello. This is Tammy,” I stated, my voice slightly breathless. The caller was Elaine from our church, eager to discuss a potential trip to the Holy Land. The suggestion sparked an idea, a delicious, provocative one that immediately took root.

“I’d love to help you, Elaine,” I replied, injecting a playful tone into my voice. “When can we meet?” Elaine, a woman of about fifty with a gentle demeanor and a recent addition to her life – a two-month-old baby nestled securely in a carrier – confirmed a meeting in forty-five minutes. As I prepared to leave for the office, my thoughts swirled with fantasies involving the coffee shop where we’d be meeting. I envisioned Larry, arriving precisely when I requested a potty break, my dress lifted to reveal the bounty of my body, and his eager hands claiming their due. It felt like a scene ripped from a fever dream, both thrilling and slightly shameful.

I chose my favorite dress – a vibrant striped number paired with a delicate slip – and opted to forgo panties, allowing for a greater sense of freedom and exposure. The anticipation mounted as I headed to the coffee shop. Elaine was already there, her attention momentarily diverted from her infant by the need to nurse him. Her breasts, noticeably full, were a silent testament to her dual role as a mother and a travel agent.

“He has been sleeping a long time,” she said, a touch of embarrassment coloring her voice. “I am ready to nurse him. My breasts are full.” The confession hung in the air, a subtle invitation that sent a shiver down my spine. As she shifted her attention back to her baby, I felt a surge of curiosity, a primal instinct to observe and perhaps even participate in this intimate act of nurturing.

We spent the next hour discussing the logistics of the trip, my mind still preoccupied with the image of Larry's hands brushing against my skin. The conversation felt strangely muted, as if my thoughts were pulling me away from the present moment. When I excused myself to attend to a restroom break, my plan solidified. The thought of seeing Larry, uninhibited and eager, in that confined space was too tempting to resist.

As I hurried towards the restrooms, I found myself succumbing to the urge to indulge in a little self-pleasure. I slipped my hand beneath my dress, engaging in slow, deliberate masturbation. The sensation was intense, almost overwhelming, yet I felt a strange sense of control, savoring each movement, each touch. I wasn’t quite ready to cum, but the pleasure was undeniable. The road ahead seemed long, but my focus remained laser-sharp on the image of Larry waiting for me.

Returning to the table, I felt even more aroused, the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Elaine’s comments about Carl, her husband, and the relief he provided by nursing excess milk further fueled my fantasies. The thought of my own husband, suckling at my breasts and draining my reserves, was undeniably seductive. It felt like a forbidden indulgence, a secret longing that simmered beneath the surface of my everyday life.

As we concluded the meeting, I made a mental note to broach the subject with Mark, my husband, about exploring this concept further. The idea of a shared experience, a mutual indulgence, seemed both thrilling and slightly scandalous.

The drive home was a blur, my hands gripping the steering wheel, my mind consumed by the image of Larry. The fifteen-minute journey felt like an eternity, filled with escalating anticipation. Unable to resist the urge, I slipped my hand beneath my dress and began to engage in passionate self-stimulation. The pleasure was intense, a delicious release that left me breathless. I didn't quite reach climax, but the sensation was electric, igniting a deeper level of arousal.

Arriving home, I was consumed by a wave of heat and desire. It was time to indulge in my fantasies, to fully embrace the horniness that had taken root within me. I changed into a simple nightgown, leaving my bra and panties behind. As I lay on the bed, I focused on the sensations in my body, letting go of all inhibitions.

I dipped my fingers into a glass of milk, savoring the cool, creamy texture. Then, I began to gently caress my nipples, teasing them with the tip of my finger. The sensation was exquisite, sending shivers down my spine. Simultaneously, I began to stimulate my clitoris with the milk-soaked finger, focusing on the pleasure points. The combination was intoxicating, pushing me closer to the brink of ecstasy.

As I continued to pleasure myself, my thoughts drifted back to Elaine’s story. The image of Bill nursing excess milk to relieve breast pain was both fascinating and disturbing. It opened my eyes to the hidden desires that lurked beneath the surface of our society, the primal instincts that we often try to suppress.

The feeling intensified, building into a crescendo of sensation. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the pleasure, losing myself in the moment. My body throbbed with desire, my mind racing with images of Larry, his touch igniting a fire within me.

Suddenly, the bedroom door creaked open, and Larry entered. He took one look at me, my body drenched in sweat, my eyes glazed over with pleasure, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Wow," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "You are horny when you're pregnant."

"You're right about that," I replied, my voice barely a whisper.

Later that evening, after dinner, I couldn't resist the urge to share my thoughts with Larry. I told him about Elaine's story, about Bill nursing excess milk to relieve breast pain. "That's cool," he said, his eyes twinkling with interest. "Sound good to me."

A genuine smile spread across my face as I realized that my desires had not gone unnoticed. Larry's acceptance, his willingness to indulge in this shared experience, filled me with a sense of contentment and excitement. The journey ahead might be filled with unexpected turns and challenges, but I knew that together, we could navigate the complexities of our desires and find pleasure in the most intimate of moments.

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Pregnant Heat: Larry's Morning Tease

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