Tasting Candy: Over 60 Erotic Pregnancy Stories

He held my gaze for a moment, but then very casually let his eyes dip down. The way he took a peek at my breasts made it feel as if he wasn’t letting me get away with pretending to be so casual about it. It was like he turned the tables on me with but a few simple facial expressions. Pulling me out of my hiding spot to gaze at me with such casual interest.

“Luscious and ravishing,” he stated so calmly in that smooth, charming voice of his.

His accent made it sound even more exotic, and he certainly had a way with words that none of those dumb boys at school could ever dream of. He was way too calm and in control.

And that excited me.

My lip quirked into a smile and I watched him for a moment. “Thank you,” I said before taking my straw back into my mouth, finishing off the rest of my drink.

We were walking on out, through the darkening streets of Havana when I had to put my arms about his for support. The drinks had been so strong, stronger than I was used to, but any excuse to cling to his muscular arm for support was welcome.

I could feel the bulge of his muscles, the veins rising up on his flesh. He was so well sculpted, nothing just for show about this hunk of a man.

“We could go enjoy some of Habana’s night life,” he remarked, looking to me from the corner of his gaze. “But maybe your trip here has been long enough already, and you could use some rest. Tomorrow I am going to take you into the jungle, after all. Show you a beautiful spot in the mountains that you will just adore.”

But the salsa music was already spilling out onto the streets, and I could feel it in my hips, my bones. I wanted an excuse to get close to him.

It wasn’t that I needed to seduce him. I knew what guys were like. If I’d asked him to take me back to the hotel and bone me without a condom, he totally would. Probably wouldn’t even be bothered that I was still a virgin.

No, wanting to dance with him had nothing to do with him and everything to do with me.

“Naw, let’s go dance!”

Romy looked at me with a wry smirk, some mild surprise on his face at my sudden brazenness.

“Dance you say?” he remarked, and I thought for a moment he might try to talk me out of it. But instead, he guided me off our path and took me down a different road. “I know just the club,” he said with a smile.

It wasn’t hard to tell where he was taking me, the lights and sounds of the club were apparent from far away. The beautiful music and gorgeous people spilling out into the streets even, as we approached. It was such a remarkable place!

Again, Romy seemed to know people, the man at the door let us both pass with barely a word, just some friendly hand gesture between the two of them. We headed on in, the thrum of the music and the sights of so many stunning, scantily clad people grinding, swaying and cutting amazing moves all around us.

It was unlike anything I’d ever seen, and the music was already thrumming in my veins, making me feel so hot in all the right ways. Like I was invincible.

I dragged him towards the small, free spot on the dance floor, my soft hand in his before I tugged him in. My arms wrapped around his neck, and instantly my hips started swaying.

I knew I had a good body. My parents paid for a personal trainer for me since I was fourteen, and I didn’t skimp or cheat.

If you ever met Helga, you wouldn’t either. She was an Amazonian woman, and mean as they come, but she whipped my ass into perfect shape.

The perfect shape for Romy’s big hands to cup and gently squeeze, which was exactly what he helped himself to as we began to dance. The handsome, smiling man showing no sheepishness in holding me so personally, and for a moment I debated whether it was just the hot Latin nature of the place, or if it was all him and his charming bravado.

Either way, worked for me!

He certainly showed no lack of moves on the dance floor, his ripped body moving with such ease and masculine grace.

“You dance well,” he said to me with a smile. “Especially for such a pretty, fair girl from away,” he tacked on playfully.

I was letting myself fall for him. Really fall for him. Forcing those barriers down as I enjoyed the music pumping through our veins.

I pressed my breasts into his hard chest, looking up at him with a devilish smirk.

“That’s not all I do well,” I taunted, though honestly, the furthest I’d gone with a guy was hand stuff.

Romy didn’t know that though, and he grasped hold of my hips and spun me about, sliding one hand up to grasp mine before pulling me back in against him. We moved with the music, our bodies twisting and turning, until my rear was pressed up against his groin, and we were grinding so shamelessly in the middle of the club.

So shamelessly that Romy made not an effort to hide the thick bulge that quickly grew to a full — and startlingly impressive — size against my two cheeks.

I even swear I heard a low groan over the sound of the music.