Tasting Candy: Over 60 Erotic Pregnancy Stories

We were a tangle of flesh, hard on soft, but both sweaty and glistening. He’d fucked me like I’d never dreamed I could be fucked, and he pressed down upon me. Kissing at my pouty lips as he embraced me fully, his dick still embedded as we made out atop that sprawling first-class bed.

Come to think of it, that was how we spent not only the night, but the morning too.

The next day even, as he sat at breakfast, shirt on, but undone. I had sat in his lap as he fed me, and I him. Just as he’d promised.

A warm smile lit up his broad face as I sat atop him, his cock lodged inside my well-fucked pussy, l

odged there after yet another load he’d blown inside me. It was a strange thing to describe, the thrill I got from the feel of his cold pistol against my bare flesh. By rights I was too sore to go again after his long, morning pounding. But as I sat on his lap and felt that metal against me, I was compelled to grind his dick and provoke him to yet another climax.

“What are your plans for today?” I asked that massive man, another foolish question I probably shouldn’t have asked such a deadly man. Yet he humoured me as he always had.

“I am heading back home now, to my place up north in Montreal,” he stated simply, feeding me a grape from the mini-breakfast buffet that was brought for us. Though my heart sank at the idea of him leaving… especially after all we had done. The risks we’d taken.

“You will come with me, yes?” he added so casually, head tilted just so, brow raised in question.

How could I do anything but nod? A thrill ran down my spine, and I wanted nothing more than to be in Luc’s arms forever.

The Bet

Book Themes:

Bareback, breeding, billionaires, strippers

Word Count:

6,959

Working at a high profile strip club, you see a lot of celebrities and high rollers come through. Like just the other night, I happened to walk into a private dance booth that was occupied. Whoops! But the sight that greeted me was worth the momentary embarrassment, because I got to glimpse one of my friends doing more than the regular show.

There she was, that pretty angel of a girl, riding in the lap of one of the hottest rock stars around. And I don’t mean a lap dance. Yeah, she was breaking the rules, and the law, but she was riding that dick like a woman possessed. The fat shaft spreading her open as she bounced, a giddy look on her face as she had her arms around him.

I mean, plenty of girls fuck rock stars just for the hell of it. My friend did it and got paid. What’s not to love about that?!

So I didn’t tell the manager or the bouncers. I mean, girls selling extras is bad for all of us. But in a case like that, how can I judge? I’d have gone home with that hunk whether he paid me or charged me.

I’ve never been so lucky. I rock a good look, and clients love me, but I’ve never cashed in big off a rock star. And y’know, I’ve never been too down about it. Some of the girls tell me that the big celebs are often stingy, they expect extras for free just because of how popular they are. And if that’s the case, sure, I’ll suck it up and rub one out on my own time to thoughts of my friend banging on that big, veiny dick. (Except it’ll be me in my fantasy, trust me.)

A steady flow of high paying clients for me to dance for, works just fine.

But then he walked into my club.

Oh, he’s not a rockstar. In fact, I didn’t even recognize him at first. All I could see was that he was a tall, well-shaped man in a very expensive suit. But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Plenty of guys come into strip clubs after big business meetings, weddings, you name it. And they wear the most expensive thing they own.

But this guy had style. Real style. Like, it was no polyester suit he wore. It was tailored, custom fit to his impressive frame. Fancy cufflinks and a french-cut shirt that I adored. And the tie was a thick european cut, that alone probably cost $500 at least, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was more.

Beyond his clothes though, he was downright dreamy. A broad jawline and dark, long hair that was slicked back in a perfect style. He was a man that knew how to show off his rugged good looks. And he did look rugged and manly, trust me. The expensive suit was just a bit of flair to show that in addition to being a hard as rock macho man, he knew how to impress.

So when two other girls got to him first, I was a bit heartbroken, you can imagine. But I didn’t let it get me down -- too much -- I had a stage show to put on anyhow.

So instead, I popped my lips to finish off my gloss, flicked back my long, blonde hair, and strut towards the stage. In my gold bikini, and with my hard-fought-for curves, I always drew more than a few heads.

But I just wanted his.

The other girl was just finishing up her stage show, lamenting the lack of tips, and giving me a commiserate stare. “I hate it when it’s dead like this,” she said, pulling on her white bikini. “Too many girls here, and way too few guys.”

I had to admit she was right, it’s a bit slow, but she’s the type that’d complain if the room was full, so I just smiled her off. Nothing’s going to kill my buzz before my show. And the second my song comes on, I was instantly in the groove. I walked up to the stage with a killer stare, commanding everyone’s attention.

I was in the zone, but I’d be lying if I didn’t see that gorgeous hunk sit himself down near the stage in a booth, the other two dancers still clinging to his side. Even though his eyes were slowly pulled from the two hot girls on his arms to me.