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Slender, clawed legs would embrace her soft human curves, while an impossibly long ovipositor extended down from the lewdly curved abdomen of a quivering wasp, spearing into her waiting pussy. Egg after egg would pump into her, swelling her stomach until she could fairly see the outline of each parasitic orb impressed into her willing flesh.
Sometimes she would come in her dream, immobilized by a belly swollen with insect progeny. Other times, she'd wake coming, imagining she could feel the hatching larva as they pulsed their way out of her spasming cunt.
She woke one morning towards the end of the third week—naked as was now her habit—to find her thighs and much of the mattress beneath her utterly soaked in her slick juices. Well, that was new. She was wet more often than not these days, but this was something else entirely.
Then she felt it. Something nudging her from inside her womb.
Oh, god ... oh, god ... oh, GOD! It was happening. Her time was up. The egg was hatching.
She was going to give birth to the wasp's larva.
