And our child grew.
We planned the baby’s nursery.
We were going to wait on the baby’s gender, until he or she was born. We both were nervous enough, but Jean-Pierre usually went out of control, and I would have to pull him back a little. It was better that we didn’t know anything yet.
Already the baby room was two bedrooms. Jean-Pierre had one of the walls knocked down to give our child more space. I wasn’t quite sure how much crawl room a child needed, but ours would have more than enough.
Next came the decorating. The room had become a massive place of pink and blue furs. Crystal chandeliers and oversized towering teddy bears whose heads touched the ceiling.
This may scare the baby. These bears definitely scare me.
His aunts awakened to the excitement too. They all had gifts and chimed in on decorating. After a while, I left Jean-Pierre and his aunts, to the hysteria, and was just happy to be having a healthy child.
He or she is coming soon.
Months passed, the whole time my stomach swelled into a bulging belly. And our child grew, the movements became more defined. The baby twisted and turned inside of me, especially when Jean-Pierre spoke near my womb. And he did so exceedingly, reading out little-one books on classical composers.
Another appointment brought an ultrasound visit., Jean-Pierre held me for a long time. The picture of our healthy child lay between his fingers. The baby had shown no signs of danger.
We were really doing this. We were having a child. We would be someone’s parents one day. I spent my moments, daydreaming about our future—Jean-Pierre raising our baby in the air and triggering giggles. The three of us together—playing on the beach and vacationing all over the world.
My belly expanded. And the rest of my body changed too. My breasts became heavier and fuller. My nipples ached. At times, only Jean-Pierre’s mouth could soothe them.
Sometimes emotions barricaded me, at the oddest times. There was one French commercial that showed an old couple on a porch, looking out at the sun and sipping lemonade. And although the freaking ad was for erectile dysfunction, the damn thing made me cry and cry. Tears always streamed down my cheeks as laughter came too. And my heart would warm and throb.
Oh, such a pretty couple. I hope his cock gets hard for her. They’re so awesome.
I was a hormonal mess, yet Jean-Pierre remained my anchor in the storm, keeping me grounded in reality. So I did my all, to show him my gratitude and love.
And as my ass grew fatter and my hips expanded, and my pussy swelled. I’d thought Jean-Pierre would want to have sex less. But his hands were on me more, as if something happened to a mated pair, when a child was growing between them.
Was it hormones or pheromones radiating from our skin and luring the other to have sex more? With the hormones bouncing around, I wanted to fuck all the time, and he was happy to oblige, pumping that huge cock in every hole and driving me crazy.
Beautiful days passed.
We spent a lot of time on his yacht. It had a large cabin paneled in mahogany. There, we made love everywhere—on the deep, wine-Red carpet, against the dark, blue leather chairs, and especially in the bed.
How he made me groan? How my voice rose high, through the Venetian blinds and probably soared over the sea?
We always picnicked at the beach on Sundays. Somehow it had become our tradition. We loved to lounge on a long blanket in each other’s arms, kissing until our lips swelled at the end of the night.
But those months hadn’t all been calm.
Although, Jean-Pierre had few workdays.
Because Louis, Rafael, and Giorgio had rushed off on some adventures in Paris and New Orleans. Montreal and even Senegal. In the past months, they’d all been hopping around. Romance was in the air. Every now and then one called to ask me for advice, but either way, that kept the Corsican’s business at a steady rate. No war or deals.
In between all of that, horror had still come.
A package had been delivered to Jean-Pierre last month. On the inside, Aunt Celina’s decapitated head rested in black silk. A crisp card had been pinned to the silk which showed that the present had not been originally given to Jean-Pierre at all.
The card read.
Kazimir,
My apologies.
A green and gold scaled dragon represented the signature.
Apparently, the mafia boss in Japan, had tried to make amends with the Lion by killing my aunt. Celina had taken Kazimir’s nuclear weapon codes. While Kazimir had gotten one part of the codes from my kidnapping, I had often wondered, if they found the other codes and her.
Aunt Celina must’ve tried to sell the other part of the codes to the Dragon. He’d surely changed his mind from participating in the whole ordeal. Perhaps it was because he knew Jean-Pierre saw the Dragon’s part in my kidnapping. Maybe, it was because Kazimir put a hole in Paris.