My Pregnant Coworker

"But you did fantasize about it a little?" Gwen interrupted. I nodded. "I've been thinking about fucking you since the first time I caught you hungrily looking at my baby bump. Long build-up to get here, but I have no regrets. And it lived up to the ever-increasing hype in my head, too, in case you were wondering." She yawned. "Christ, I'm tired. That was quite the workout for a preggo of my size. I'd love to stay for round two...three, four, and so on. But I've gotta get back home pretty soon if I don't want to cause any suspicions to develop. Could we just cuddle for a few minutes, Greg?"

"I'd love that, Gwen." I spooned her, one of my arms under her neck to grip a breast from below, the other over her side to ub her cum-stidcky belly. My dick pressed against her delightfully pregnancy-thickened bubble of an ass. We stayed like this for 10 minutes or so, silently enjoying each other's physical presence. I felt a slight sense of melancholy and thought I sensed it in Gwen's tensed muscles and silence, too. "This is it for us, isn't it?" I asked quietly.

She flipped over to face me and nodded, quiet and sad. "This is it," she whispered. "But it has been fun, hasn't it?" I nodded back. "I'm going to fall asleep if I lay here for much longer." And with that she sat up, stood with a groan, and started putting her clothes back on. I stayed in the bed, sadness at the end of our romantic time together overwhelming me. "I'll miss this, Greg. See you in a few weeks."

That was it. She walked out of my room and straight out the front door. I cried for a few minutes before getting up myself. Feeling gloomy or not, I'd jerked off thinking of the consummation of our relationship 5 times before I went to bed that night. Things felt bittersweet, fantasies having been fulfilled but inevitably and abruptly ending. The fleeting nature of pregnancy is the inescapable downside of my particular sexual proclivities, I suppose. I was incredibly lucky to have experienced what I did with Gwen: no complaints, no regrets.

40 WEEKS

I was still bummed out about the end of our affair (or whatever you want to call it) well into the next week, fearful as to whether I'd reached and concluded the sexual highlight of my entire life. Yesterday morning at work, though, I received a text and a pic from Gwen. "Thinking of you" was the simple message. The pic was her in a maternity ward, hospital gown pulled up to her neck to give me one last look at her bare pregnant form before she gave birth.

I'll always have this lone pic to accompany all my fond memories. And maybe, just maybe, if I was on her mind even as she was in labor, there was some kind of romantic future possible for Gwen and me. Maybe things with her husband were even worse than she'd let on. Maybe things weren't as over as I thought they were. And some ladies do get pregnant more than once, after all...