Dr. Daddy's Virgin

Joey was one of Kayla's favorite photographers and followed her everywhere. She was as used to having her picture taken as she was breathing air, but I found it a little harder to get used to.

"That's what makes this perfect," Joey said in response to my objection. "The owner and CEO of the company Ethan Colson celebrating his one-year anniversary with the love of his life, supermodel Kayla Brandt-Colson. The two of you are one of the world's hottest couples and the media will eat it up.

“People will be clamoring to read next month's issue of Speed Magazine when they see this image of you and Kayla cheek to cheek on the cover. Now give me one more shot, this time of the two of you kissing."

"No way; our intimate personal time is private. No photography. Now get out of here before I'm forced to fire you and take your camera," I shouted out, but there was no anger in my voice, just love for my wife.

Joey was right; the public craved images of us together, and since we kept our private life well-guarded, images of us as a couple were rare, making them even more sought after. We had a contract with Joey that we would buy any photographs he took that we didn't want to go public. It kept him loyal to us and gave us control of all photos seen by the public.

"How do you deal with having your picture taking all day? It's exhausting," I said to Kayla as I leaned back into a reclining chair on the beach and a waiter brought us each fresh drinks.

"It can be, but that's why I'm careful to book plenty of relaxation time between photo shoots." She grinned at me, and her smile was even more radiant than it had been a moment ago.

Being with just one woman made her even sexier to me than a string of one-night stands. I knew Kayla's body better than anyone and could make her orgasm with just a touch. Nothing could be hotter, and as impossible as it was, I swear her breasts seemed to have gotten even bigger and her hips were definitely rounder. She was becoming softer and more voluptuous, and I wanted to make love to her constantly, and she responded to my touch with the same passionate desire. A full year into our marriage, and we were still fucking like newlyweds.

"What do you want to do for our anniversary tonight?" I asked her. "The sky's the limit."

"Well, you've already brought me here to this tropical island. We're staying in our own private bungalow right on the beach, and this morning, we made love under a waterfall in that secluded lake we found hidden in the jungle. We were serenaded by parrots and wild birds, and then served this fantastic lunch of fish caught fresh from the ocean this morning. What more could a girl want?"

"There has to be something special you want to do," I insisted. "You worked so hard last month, I only saw you a few days. You're becoming as bad of a workaholic as I used to be. I want to make sure you don't forget how to relax and have fun."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I plan on taking lots of time off very shortly. We'll spend days hanging out in the park, taking long walks, and just enjoying life."

"So, why were you working so much? I know that the year we were engaged, your modeling career far surpassed just being the ad-campaign girl for Speed Motorcycles. Within months of our engagement, you were being asked to model for the covers of major magazines and posed for some of the top companies in the country.

“Major corporations would fly you around the world, and offered you huge salaries, to pose with their products or to put your face on their magazine ads. Your rise to fame was unprecedented."

"That still drives you crazy," she teased me, and I leaned over from to chair to swat her ass playfully in mock aggravation. She raised up her ripe buttocks, allowing me to make contact with her round cheek, and when it vibrated under the impact of my palm, we both felt a thrill.

"No, it doesn't. I'm secure enough in my manhood to let my wife thrive. Besides, I'm proud of you."

"So why are you going on about it?" she taunted, making me grin. She'd gotten up from her beach recliner and straddled me on mine so she could tickle my chest with her manicured fingernails.

I put my hands on her waist and slid them up her pale body to cup her

breasts. Fondling them gently, I said to her, "Because, you've been able to set your own demands and work schedule for almost two years straight now. You've always been really good about keeping your work schedule within reason so we'd have enough time to spend together. Having you out on photoshoots all day, every day for nearly a month was tougher on me than I'd like to admit."

"Sorry, but I needed to get in as much work as I could before my body starts to change and I can't model anymore. This last month may mark the end of my career for quite a long time."

"What are you talking about? Is this because you’re getting older? Don't worry, sweetheart. The shelf life of a model is short, but it's not that short. You still have plenty of years left to enjoy your career."

"Oh, I know that. But if I lose my skinny body, then I won't be as marketable. Besides, I don't think I'll want to work anymore, at least not for a few years. I think I'll want to stay at home, like my mother did."

"Don't tell me you’re burnt out on your career already? You've only been doing it a few years and you act like you really love it. Some days when you come home from work, you're smiling so big, I wonder if I shouldn't be jealous that you love your career more than you love me."

It was a joke and she giggled. Tickling my chest again, she said with a smile, "Don't worry, I don't love anything more than you. It's just that I'm pregnant."

"What?" I sat up straight so suddenly, I nearly knocked her off my lap. "I don't think I heard you right. Say that again."

"I'm pregnant." She was absolutely beaming as she smiled at me. I'd never seen her looking more radiantly beautiful.

"Are you sure? I thought you were on the pill." I gaped like a moron.

"I was, but it's not a hundred percent effective. I went to see my doctor when I had the flu last month, and she told me that it was morning sickness. I was six-weeks pregnant."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I was still in shock and didn't know how to feel.

"Because I knew you would worry and make me quit my job."