Tasting Candy: Over 60 Erotic Pregnancy Stories

I’ve gotten my parents’ permission to pack up and ship out with Tristan, and while it took some convincing, we’re heading back to his homeland to check out some universities. Tristan wants to keep his authority-free streak, but I want to be able to say I made the most out of what life has given me.

And it’s given me so much, I think as I rub my belly. Tristan catches me doing so, and I’m not able to hide my expression of joy as he starts to open his mouth to ask.

Before he can though, I just smile.

“It’s a boy,” I say, and his face glows with pride, his hands wrapping lovingly around my hips. “I can just feel it.”

“Have you taken a test?”

I nod softly. In fact, I took it on the plane a few minutes ago, but I was able to keep it hidden pretty well, until now. There’s nothing that gets past Tristan, but I still get the pleasure of breaking the news. “But I already knew.”

We’re launching into the newest chapter of our lives in the best way possible — I’m going to have as many children as Tristan’s limitless seed will put in me, and with his resources, we’ll have the very best environment to raise them in. And as for us, well, besides my schooling, engagement has been brought up more than once. We know we’re going to get married, probably back on Marble Mountain where we shared our passion together for the first time, but he hasn’t actually popped the question formally yet. He says he’s still working on the ring for that.

It’s being specially constructed, in Monaco.

William

Book Themes:

Dominance, First Time, Breeding

Word Count:

10,639 words

“I said, remove your jacket, now.”

I bite my lip as I look at the seriousness in the airport security man’s eyes, his stony face unmoving as I take a deep breath and slip my purse off my shoulder, stepping forward into the frisking area for what must be way more invasive a pat-down than they’d have back home in the States.

Slowly, I slip my slim-fitting blazer off my bare shoulders, exposing my skin to everyone around me as I feel color come to my cheeks. This is a regular inspection, I tell myself, just a security precaution. The look on the customs agent’s face, though, tells me that he’s going to enjoy his work quite a lot today.

And something deep inside me, something I know I should be quelching with all my might, tells me that I’m going to enjoy it too. That only adds to the embarrassment I feel, and my jaw sets, but as the guard sizes me up, devouring me with his eyes, I can’t deny the fact that something primal within me wants to take advantage of the fact that I’m miles and miles from everything I know and every inhibition I’ve built up over my life.

Still, I hold my head high, my light brown hair held back in a loose ponytail, and I fight the urge to brush the stray tendrils of hair out of my eyes. It’s such a ditzy gesture, and I don’t want to te

ase the agent any more than I already am, but it’s too annoying to ignore, so I eventually give in, glaring at him with my blue eyes.

I’m almost as tall as him, though, and I can tell that’s making him self-conscious. I don’t usually wear much makeup, but today, I’ve got some dark red lipstick on, and I use it to give him a somewhat smug smile with my full lips as he approaches me.

“Arms up,” he says, and I obey, raising my long limbs up so he can pass his metal detector up and down me. Then he puts it away, and it’s his turn to smile smugly, flexing his hands as he steps behind me.

It’ll be over in a little bit, Harper, I tell myself, chanting it over and over in my head. At least this isn’t a busy airport.

That doesn’t help me when I feel his hands on my shoulders, though. There’s no way I can hide anything on bare skin! I fight the urge to grimace, but I still hear a low chuckle from the guy as his rough hands slip down my sides, feeling the soft fabric of my blouse as it hugs my narrow frame. I was the tall, awkward, gangly girl when I was in high school, but now well into adulthood, I’ve blossomed into... well, a slightly less awkward, still tall girl.

His groping hands head down to my hips, and I brace myself for when he gives them a soft squeeze through my jeans, spending some time around the area of my pockets. I know he wants to stick his hands a little further up front to my crotch—even in grad school, I can’t get away from that. And this guy doesn’t seem to mind that there are at least three other security guards watching, so I shift uncomfortably.

Still, he feels the soft give on my ass, and I feel my face burning, glancing up at the other guards for some semblance of help, but everyone looking at me just has a smug smile on their faces. None of them speak English as a first language, and I’m pretty sure the one feeling me up on his way back to my shoulders speaks the best English out of the lot of them.

But fuck, why does that make me feel so warm inside?

I signed up for this. I should have known I was in over my head this far away from another country.

“She’s clear,” the agent finally says, giving my ass a pinch as he scoots me along through the checkpoint, and I give a yelp, glaring daggers at him as I collect my things and move along. None of the other guards seem to have much sympathy, but that’s to be expected.

Not that the thought of a tall, strong islander copping a feel didn’t cross my mind on the way over here. The flight was long and arduous, and there wasn’t much else to occupy my mind than the thought that maybe, just maybe, I’ll get some action while I’m on this remote, tropical island.

And those thoughts kind of stuck with me, in kind of a big way. I thank everything there was no way for that agent to realize just how wet I was by the time I landed and reached customs.