Role Reversal Ch. 03

Who knew it was so easy to get married? Well, in Alabama anyway.

I looked it up and we went to the county courthouse, got the proper form, filled it out, had the form notarized, and filed it with the probate court. Two days later I got the official Marriage Certificate from the office, complete with the raised seal, and spent a day getting beneficiaries and insurance coverages changed.

That was it.

We were officially married.

Since I'm a freelance writer and prolific producer of porn that I publish through the Direct to Kindle system, Amazon's no-cost self-publishing operation, I didn't have an office or a boss to report to, so no one missed me. And my new relationship provided the basis for a few more quickie novels.

What I write is kind of the hard-core version of those romance novels you find on one wall of any used bookstore. Harlequin Romance is the biggest publisher, but I suppose there are others. So I was cranking out new novels at the rate of one every four days, all based on incest.

Such a harsh word, isn't it, for such a beautiful relationship.

Anyway, the books are very formulaic and I can crank them out in a hurry. I have, oh, I suppose a couple of hundred titles out there now. No best sellers, but if each sells ten a week, well, you get the picture. We're far from rich but we are comfortable.

I'm not trying to schlepp books here, just making the point that I didn't have to report to an office and had plenty of time to tend to Teddy.

As we moved into the eighth month she was getting truly huge. She's one of those women who carry the baby like a huge pot belly. Her belly stuck straight out by the eighth month and she was walking in that leaning-back posture of a pregnant woman dealing with a center of gravity about two feet ahead of what she spent a lifetime learning to handle.

And those stretchmarks, those absolutely gorgeous stretchmarks kept spreading. There were three separate sets now. The first started at her belly button, popped out like a Butterball Turkey's I'm-done button, and radiated all around the beachball she had swallowed. The second ran down each hip to the tops of her thighs, The third covered her breasts as they ran through the C cup of our first night together, itself two sizes bigger than the A cup she had started with, to the DD cup she overflowed now. The marks on her belly were very dark, almost chocolate colored, and so deep I could feel them with my fingertips or my lips depending on our mood. Those on her hips and her breasts were different, they were very white but also deep. I loved playing with them, tracing them with my fingers or tongue.

Her nipples were big and dark, the areolas seeming to get bigger by the day, and the love bumps, the Montgomery Glands, more prominent. As the areolas got darker, the ring of hair around them got thicker and darker.

That weird hair growth provided us with conversation and laughs.

The line down her neck was now almost to her shoulder blades and luxuriant and, contrasting with the hair on her head, it was straight and fine. Those patches on the insides of her thighs were coarse and thick and curly. I liked it all.

Some mornings I would wake and find a single hair, very thick, wiry, hell, they looked like they would conduct electricity, growing from odd places. Once it grew from the bottom of her earlobe. Once right in the middle of her chin. Once, and I left this one, right out of the middle of her belly button.

She kept putting on weight too. She was complaining about the "baby fat" regularly, but I kept reminding her that women are supposed to be soft and round. And she did look damn good. Her thighs put on enough weight that she developed a clear chubrub, semicircles right at the tops of her thighs where they rubbed together. The skin was darker and thicker, almost leathery, but oddly sensitive when I tickled or kissed or licked.

And I tickled and kissed and licked a lot. As her control over our relationship grew she discovered the joys of having her daddy/husband on his knees before her. And I discovered the joys of giving her what she wanted.

I didn't even mind that our baby, growing and pressing on various parts, sometimes had me tasting urine when she came.

At 40, I was past that first rush of the sexual obsession of puberty and even the second stage of two- or three-times-a-night energy. A missed night didn't bother me and before Teddy and I married, when I was dating occasionally, while I was raising her, a couple of weeks between sex was okay too.

But she was 18 and a raging bundle of hormones, young woman hormones, mother soon-to-be hormones, young bride hormones. She was, in other words, demanding.

And she was also learning her role as Woman of the House.

No, that is FAR too gentle a way to put it. She was revelling in her new role as Woman of the House, or maybe Lady of the Manor. She was wallowing in it. She was luxuriating in it. It was obvious that she was deriving an almost sexual pleasure from her new power over me.

And I was getting the same thing. I was in love, that was part of it of course. But it was beyond that too. I loved the way she was taking charge. And I absolutely adored giving her the things she wanted.

Part of it was sex, of course. She was always horny. I could manage a second erection some nights but she wanted much more than that.

So we explored together.

She had a bit of a masochistic streak, and we explored the pure sensation of clamps together.

One day I visited a place I had seen but never entered. Emerald Fantasy advertised "adult toys and novelties" in the window. Inside, I was surprised. The windows were mirrored and I expected something dark and furtive. It was quite the opposite, though. I thought it reminded me of a Best Buy, or maybe, more properly, a Barnes and Noble with its aisles of shelves just a little too tall to see over.

And they had, of all things, shopping carts.

I grabbed a cart and started slowly moving, working my way through each aisle in turn. Before I checked out I had the cart almost half full and the credit card bill I signed was $754.68. I left with two oversized paper bags.

When I got home she was lying on the couch doing a very passable impersonation of a beached whale, with The Price is Right blasting on the television.

"Hi honey, I'm home," I said, giving her a greeting kiss.

"You know," she said, smiling and looking at the bags in my hands, "when this kid is out of me I'm going to chase the midwife out of the room, make you fuck my stretched-out pussy, pump like a crazy woman until I have three days of milk stored up, and then drink until I puke and then drink some more. CHRIST, I'm tired of feeling like this."

I waited for her to run down before I kissed her again, and held my finger up in the universal, "Just a minute" gesture. I got down her breast pump and set about getting her pumped. She was already lactating, so I didn't see any problem with accumulating that three-day supply of her milk. She WAS committed to breastfeeding. She watched as I went through the ritual of preparing the pump and her breasts. I cleaned her nipple and areola carefully with an alcohol wipe first, making her giggle and say, "Cold." Next, I coated the inside of the nipple cups with Vaseline, ensuring a good seal and that the pump could suck her in deeply. I lifted each heavy breast, placed the nipple cups giving them a quarter-turn twist to make sure the seal was tight, and then pushed the switch.

She sighed, as she always does when the soft whir/whoosh of the machine started its soporific song. I watched as the vacuum took hold, lifting and gently adjusting her breasts until the nipple was deep inside the cup and the first white drops of her milk started showing on the transparent tube connecting the cup to the flexible bag.

I kissed her again, smiled, said, "Relax, baby," and took the bags from Emerald Fantasy, and headed for the bedroom.

In the bedroom, I was surprised to find how excited I was. My fingers trembled badly as I began opening the first box, the one I wanted to show her first. I laid out the components and then read the instructions, carefully. This was NOT something I wanted to fuck up.

The cock cage I had selected was, in its way, a work of art. Highly polished chrome rods formed the shape of a cock but were small and bent into an almost perfect "L" shape. The Urethral Sound was a flexible tube about eight inches long, assuring penetration to the bladder. I lubricated it with the supplied gel, placed the slightly rounded end against the opening of my urethra at the tip of my suddenly erect cock, and began inserting it. The sensation was odd. It didn't hurt but there was an odd stretching feeling. And I watched, fascinated as I slowly pushed the tube deeper. The sound had a little globe-shaped cap on it, and I realized it was important that it was on as the sound, well, a catheter at this point, penetrated and I suddenly had the feeling that I was peeing.

I waited for that first rush of sensation to pass and then worked my balls through the little ring and locked the whole contraption with the tiny padlock that came in the box.

Her eyes got big when I walked back into the front room and put the little key on its fine gold chain around her neck.

"I am yours," I said, getting to my knees and taking her hand in mine, kissing her palm and sucking each finger as I held her eyes, "I hold nothing back."

She grinned, laid back against the arm of the couch, adjusted her tits, parted her legs, and said softly, "Give me your tongue, Daddy."

In the eighth month, her mons had pretty much disappeared. Her pussy showed as an extension of her enormous belly, the stretch marks outlining it. Her labia were puffy and swollen, the baby fat down there too, changing her from a slender gymnast to a bloated preggo.

As I began kissing and licking the scent and taste of urine were strong and I realized I would need to find whatever underwear might be out there to help with that.

But that was a problem for another time. Right now I needed, and that's the proper word. I NEEDED to give her the pleasure she wanted. So I began licking, her pubic hair thicker now than a month ago, and I loved the way she responded so quickly. With the first long lick of my tongue, I tasted the salty, oily signature of her excitement.

The hormones raging through her body had her hair-triggered, and I tasted her first orgasm almost immediately. She came, salty and acrid, very hot and very watery and I bathed my face and hair in her pleasure. I knew, by then, that she liked the look of me after that, but this was just the warm-up, as we both knew.

I swallowed the last of her first orgasm noisily and went back to licking. I was caressing her belly with my hands, and her labia with my lips and tongue. When I felt the baby kick there was a sudden pain as my cock tried to get hard against the cage.

I groaned and she pulled me off of her pussy so I could look across her belly to meet her eyes.

"Daddy, are you okay?" she asked, smiling at my appearance, which was as if I had just stepped out of a shower.

I chuckled softly and said, "You know what you do to me. I'm trying to get hard. Don't worry about me, Honey."

I went back down on her, lapping like a thirsty dog at the thick white grool running down the crack of her ass.

I licked her through three more orgasms before she grabbed a pillow and screamed her finish, her body tensing, her nectar pulsing, thick and warm into my mouth as I sucked gently, ensuring her orgasm was complete.

I moved up, stretched out beside her, and began kissing her face.

"I love you," I whispered over and over, and she said it back, laying back, relaxing, satisfied.

"Okay," I said, after some timeless interlude, "Laura is due in," and I glanced at the clock on the headboard, "thirty-seven minutes. So I suppose we need to get up and get cleaned up."

She smiled and ran her finger down the little jowl at the corner of my mouth, showed me her thick white nectar she picked up, and put the finger in her mouth, sucking like a lollypop.

"God, I love you, husband-o-mine," she said, smiling and then rolling onto her side, back to her back, and onto her side again, the second time with enough momentum to swing her legs over the side of the mattress.

"Okay," she said, brushing her fingertips across my cheek again, "help me up and we'll get ready for Laura.