Tasting Candy: Over 60 Erotic Pregnancy Stories

She just needed a bit more of a push.

But it was so sweet to watch as her body changed, those little motions so subtle and appealing as she struggled with his command.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl, pet?” he asked, and his voice was hard, almost mocking. Daring her to not follow his instructions, to disobey.

Her ass still stung, and she sat as she did to try and take pressure off it, hoisting her weight up on her elbows. It was too fresh of a reminder, and though she waffled, hesitating a moment longer, he then watched as she lifted her pleated skirt, reached in under it to her hips, and hooked her thumbs into the waistband.

She wriggled her hips from side to side and kept her thighs together, barely about to tug the panties down between them, but she couldn’t hide it all despite her attempts at propriety. He caught a glimpse of her pink little cunny, the puffy labia dainty and sweet betwixt her legs before she lowered her skirt again.

“I do,” was all she said to him, her cheeks burning a bright red.

He didn’t even take a picture. He was too caught up in capturing the moment with his mind, committing every single motion to memory. He saw the brief flashes of bare skin, of forbidden flesh, and it sent his thoughts into a haze.

The fire crackled behind him and a bead of sweat trailed down under his finely tailored shirt. “Good girl,” he rewarded his pet, but his voice was tight. Constricted. He cleared his throat, trying to get back his sense of command and dominance.

“I want you to lay back, and spread your arms to either side of the bed.”

Her legs were pressed so tightly together that as she lay down flat, he never got another glimpse of her slit, nor the little tuft of wispy blonde hairs above it. She obeyed, though, splaying her arms out to the side, leaving her panties discarded on the edge of the bed, twisted and pretty as she did as he told.

He swallowed and took another picture, leaving the camera as he walked to her left side. He kneeled at the bed, his fingers trailing over her bare arm. The underside of it was so fair, with blue veins just barely visible beneath the surface. He traced them, feeling the soft pulse quicken at his touch.

Licking his lips, he turned her arm over, his gaze following the light hairs along her forearm. They glistened from the orange light of the candles and fire, the downy hair so soft. He reached beneath the bed and with a soft clatter, removed the heavy chain and soft leather from beneath the bed skirt. He caressed her arm once more before he spoke. “Do you trust me?”

Her spindly limbs tensed at the sound of those chains, and she lifted her head off the bed just a fraction of an inch, still so blind to the world around her. Her lips parted and she looked as if about to ask him what the noise was, but instead she licked her pink lips and nodded to him so very briefly, and he had a tantalizing suspicion that she knew.

“Yes sir,” she said meekly, just a wisp of her usual soft voice available.

He caressed her again, bringing his mouth to her wrist and pressing it there for a long moment, tasting her skin. He nuzzled her flesh before pulling away, bringing the soft leather to her hand. He held her fingers in his, guiding them along the dark leather, feeling out the rich texture of the material.

“This won’t hurt, sweetheart,” he said softly, taking her dainty wrist and wrapping the binding tightly around it. He secured it in place and kissed each of her fingers in turn.

Her soft little breaths caught a few times as he kissed upon her delicate skin, her slender fingers twitching as he treated her with such care. She seemed to expect more, some hurt, some pain, but instead he merely wrapped those bindings about her and gave her such tender affections.

It made her shiver and fidget just a bit, rubbing her thighs together as she waited restlessly for the hitch. The catch to all this. She was feeling the same buildup he had clung to for all this time.

He walked to the other side of the bed, repeating the same motions with such tender affection, teasing her skin with gentle caresses. When that one, too, was secured, he moved to her foot. He didn’t ask, this time. Instead, he reached across the bed and caressed over the top of her foot, down over her instep, tickling the arch through her stocking.

Each motion was so slow, so sensual, and when he got to her ankle and began coaxing her legs open, her foot towards him, it all seemed and felt so natural.

Though he hadn’t asked, she never resisted. Her legs parting as he pulled them gently to the side to tie them down, her shaking seeming to still while he strapped her limbs to the bed. Perhaps the lack of control brought her comfort, or perhaps she simply had less room to quiver as she was tied down.

Either way, her beautiful, pale form looked at ease as he ensnared her, trapping her to the bed, her white blouse betraying the outlines of her perky little teats, aroused and stiffened through the nearly see-through fabric.

As he finished with the last foot, he stood back to admire hi

s work. To admire her.

Never had he seen someone so beautiful, who had been so worth waiting for. Holding out for. He knew how lucky he was for her to be so perfectly crafted for him, so much so that it made him wonder if there truly was a greater power looking out for him.

For both of them.

He knew that she needed this, needed him, just as badly, and as he watched her body still and calm, he knew that they’d both feel whole after this evening.

He crawled onto the bed, careful not to hurt her slender legs as he moved between them. He knelt over her, his body weight shifting the mattress a bit as he hovered, staring down at her face. His gaze caressed her nose, her mouth, over her throat and down over the buttons of her blouse.

His fingers crept over her thighs, never disturbing the skirt, but instead going towards the first button on her blouse and pushing it through the sewn hole.

She’d remained so calm and quiet through it all, but as he popped that first button she gasped, softly and quietly. Her shoulders shrank inwards and she seemed to want to retreat within herself, but instead she stilled, calmed herself, her breathing having grown as he lowered her top, to show her milky white skin down to the pale white peaks of her breasts, cupped so tightly by her thin, fabric bra.