Tasting Candy: Over 60 Erotic Pregnancy Stories

I moaned, unintentionally, and took in several quick breaths.

This was definitely not how Emberlynn would react... but Ember? She’s been dreaming about this day for a decade.

Don’t get me wrong, I was wrapped up in somethin’ way over my head. I was dealin’ with shady folk and a dark, violent guy I didn’t even really know, and if I didn’t have a ton of vodka in me I’m sure I’d have screamed in terror and ran for my life.

If I was allowed.

But instead, I was pinned beneath that big muscle head bruiser Truck, his hands roamin’ up and down my sides, feelin’ the fishnets over my thighs, workin’ in under my skirt. He felt me up in such a way it was like he was payin’ homage to every inch of me. No rush to get to the act, just feelin’ out every bit of my body as he groaned and growled, licked and nibbled.

I wasn’t thinkin’ straight, that much was for sure, and when he finally took a break from kissin’ my neck, and some of my thoughts returned to me, I managed out some words. “I can’t do this,” I said, hand on his chest.

His big, hard chest. Which felt like smooth, polished stone through his shirt.

“Sure you can,” he said, and he rose up, grasping his shirt from the back and tugging it up over his head in one swift motion, leaving his upper body bare. Leaving me to gaze up at the mounds of muscle that were his pecs, abs and biceps. The kind of sculpted body I’d never come close to seein’ out in the country. With a peppering of dark hair that travelled on down his stomach to his low hanging jeans, as if the trail led beneath to something greater still.

And with him undoing his pants, I had a feelin’ I’d find out soon.

I was panickin’ a little, but my heart was racin’ ‘cause I was excited too. ‘Cause a part of me — a big part of me — just wanted to go with it. Virginity be damned.

But maybe I was a prude.

“I’ve never... with anyone,” I murmured.

He paused, his jeans undone and peeled open to show an obscene bulge in his black briefs. He looked at me, half-grin on his face, a look of disbelief on his face.

“You’re fucking with me,” he said after another once-over look across my body, so darkly clad, making me look like Ember; naughty girl.

/> With that reassurance he tugged down his jeans and underwear, and I got to see what laid at the end of his dark trail: a big, throbbing heft of cock meat. Thick and veiny, it bounded out from its confines, full of desire and bigger than I thought it’d be. With a pair of heavy balls beneath to complement its hefty girth.

Part of me was gettin’ scared, but the bigger part...

I was gawkin’. I knew that. My mouth was parted, my ruby lipstick probably all gone, a little crack in my mask. My grey eyes widened, and I couldn’t turn away.

And really... what was I hoping for? Romance and fireworks? An ‘I love you’?

I’d gone to the club lookin’ for sex whether I wanted to admit it or not. I just didn’t think I’d get it.

Once I had that big, strong, nude man up over me, his hands freely roamin’ up my legs and beneath my skirt, it was hard to battle instinct. And alcohol.

He touched my bare, pale skin beneath the frills of my skirt, and hooked his fingers into the elastic of my panties. He tugged ‘em on down and removed the black, frilly undergarment, liftin’ ‘em up to his nose for a deep inhale.

“Ahh, damn… now that’s the scent of a woman,” he growled before letting the panties drop and spreading my legs out wide before him, sliding his fingers up my inner thighs.

I watched him with rapt, though slightly blurred, attention, the corset feeling so constraining against my quickened breathing. My breasts held tight to my ribs as he touched me, inhaled me so crassly. It was like nothin’ I’d even heard girls gossipin’ about.

It was so much more... intimate.

I’d shaved down there, and I was suddenly shy by the fact that he could see all of my most private parts, so I tried to close my legs but those hard hands wouldn’t let me.

He was in the driver seat, and it was clear he intended to savour every part of me. Every glimpse of me. His eyes glued to the sight of my glistening slit.

“Damn… that is the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he said in a growl, licking his lips. And I didn’t need to wonder if he was lying. Truck wasn’t the kind of guy who had to lie to make women swoon. He just had to be his brutish self. No false compliments necessary.

Though almost as powerful as his words, was the touch of his finger to my cunny, feeling the moist folds and teasing my delicate clit.

I nearly screamed. Or maybe I did. I kind’ve lost all control when he touched me, because it felt so unreal. So amazing. My body tensed a little, embarrassment and modesty interfering with my moment before they, too, disappeared in the flood of pleasurable sensations.

By the time my alcohol-fuzzed mind managed to focus and I looked down, I realized Truck — the big brute of a man he was — had his head between my legs. His tongue was slidin’ up over my slit and tastin’ my femininity like it was his to do with as he wished.