Tasting Candy: Over 60 Erotic Pregnancy Stories

“So with that,” I said, rubbing my hands together, “you hungry?”

That was how we started out, and luckily the skies were bright and sunny, so she spent little time studying in the face of asking me to take her out and show her around. Chauffeuring a beautiful young minx like her about was a sweet pleasure.

She was always so meek, so willing to go along with my suggestions. I always wanted to take it a step further, but the sense of wrongness held me back. Sure, she

was a beautiful young woman, but she was under my care. A surrogate daughter for a few months that I was supposed to look after and protect.

And with her kindness, it seemed she needed protection. She was always asking for coin to hand to the beggars, for an extra sandwich for our picnics so that she could share with anyone who looked to be in need. They stuck out to her, she said, and didn’t find it fair that we could have so much while others had so little.

It all changed, though, when we caught a burglar in the house.

Arriving home to the dark and finding a huge, intimidating man in my house wasn’t the sort of thing either of us were expecting after a day at the museum.

By rights that should’ve been terrifying for me. I didn’t own a gun and I wasn’t a violent man. But something came over me then, and my instincts as a man to protect sweet Aren took the fore, keeping any fear for myself at bay.

I leapt at the man before his surprise was up, and I managed to grab a hold of him and force him to the floor. Like I said, I’m not a violent man, but I keep fit and in shape, and so I was able to get him down and keep him there despite his struggles. There was little of an altercation, and the burglar managed to only get a few smacks at me before it was done and over with, and I got him pinned securely to wait for the police.

That was the exhausting part, because then the adrenaline wore off, and it was just tedium. But the moment they left, I went to Aren, concern for the sweet young girl ripe in my eyes.

“You alright?” I asked, reaching a hand out to rest upon her bare, milky shoulder.

She had been screaming during the fight, I remembered that much, and she was looking like a wounded little bird, startled and scared as she trembled against me. She’d been so strong in front of the police, but now her eyes watered and she went into my chest with a sob.

I wrapped my arms about her, pulled her delicate frame in against me, holding her soft form to my hard chest. My hands roamed over her back and shoulders, rubbing and trying to comfort her as her smaller body heaved with her upset.

“It’s okay,” I said to her reassuringly, and in that fatherly kind of manner I kissed the top of her head, felt the brush of that perfect blonde hair against my lips and face. “You’re safe with me,” I assured her, and she was. I’d kept her safe throughout it all.

She stayed there for some time, allowing me to breathe in her scent, to feel strong and as though I were a pillar of security.

Though I don’t think I’d ever forget what happened when she pulled away, her watery eyes up at mine.

“I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”

Those words. Whatever they did to me, they summoned forth from me more of that male part of me that strove to be a protector. Someone who looks out for the weaker, and Aren, with those puffy blue eyes, watery from tears, was weak and in need of help then.

I scooped her up in my arms as if she were but a feather-stuffed pillow case, and carried her on upstairs.

Sex wasn’t on my mind then when I did that, but when I got to my bedroom, and brought her in to my king sized bed, in that well-appointed room, I laid her out and was struck once more by her beauty. How perfect that pale little delight was.

“You’ll sleep with me,” I said in a firm, hard voice, a protective — even possessive — edge to my words.

She was still in another of her summer dresses — that seemed to be all she brought for the trip! — her feet bare. It looked almost like a nightgown, and she made no protest or move to change first. Instead, she looked up at me, one leg pulled up at the knee, the other rested against the bed.

Her braids caressed her throat as she nodded.

“Yes, Mr. Chandler,” she said in deference to my order.

Maybe what I did next was way out of line, but something in me said that she needed more than that. More than merely being next to me for safety through the night. More than my protection. She needed a man to not only protect, but soothe. To defend her and comfort her.

So I leaned in, and I brushed my hand along her cheek, pushing back one of her braids before I pressed my lips to hers and gave her a tender, loving kiss.

Just as I’d thought, her body didn’t startle. Instead it softened, a sigh passing from her lips against mine. Her hand went to my arm, touching me so gently, as if just to have a connection and remind herself of my strength and presence. The way her thumb rubbed along my bicep, how she melted into my kiss...

I couldn’t have asked for better.

But as much as I desired her in the nubile flesh, she was in need of me, the comfort a strong, older man could provide. So I did what we both yearned for, and I got down atop her, lowering my broad, masculine frame slowly as we kissed, our lips smacking.

She tasted like honey and heaven, such pristine perfection in every way. Her tongue moist and almost cool compared to my own, I just couldn’t help but give a deep, husky groan. My arms swelled with the effort of hefting my weight over top of hers, and she felt the bulge of my bicep.