by ANDREA SMITH
Trey had always loved my breasts. Now that they were swelling with my pregnancy he was even more enamored with them. His hands massaged them gently, my nipples erect and taut. He leaned down, capturing a nipple in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the pink tip over and over again. He gently suckled my breast, kneading the other one with his
hand. He then moved his mouth to my other breast, giving
it equal time and attention. I was so wet down there and he hadn’t arrived yet.
He finally moved further south with his magic tongue, gently flicking it around my navel ring. His hands had moved ahead and his fingers gently plied the folds of my sex, capturing my clitoris and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. I moaned, my hips starting to rotate beneath his touch.
“You’re wet for me, baby,” he said softly, inserting a finger inside me, while his thumb continued to thrum my clitoris gently.
“I want to taste that wetness,” his voice husky now.
In a moment I felt his hot tongue on my sex, licking and sucking my wetness as if it were sweet nectar of the gods.
“Mmmm,” he moaned, “You taste so fine, baby.”
His hands and tongue continued their play, igniting every nerve in the region. He inserted another finger inside of me, stroking the inside wall of my uterus with gentle continued pressure. His other hand was splayed against my pelvis, his thumb pressing rhythmically against the exterior of my pubic bone. His tongue flicked my clitoris, as his thumb pressed my now engorged sweet spot. My hips were moving up and down, over and around in tempo with his expert fingers and tongue. I was moaning quite loudly now; my orgasm was mounting to a peak.
“Trey,” I cried, “Please . . . I’m ready...”
“That’s it baby; I want you to come like this.”
I tensed up, trying to hold my release back. I had never come like this; dual orgasms synchronized perfectly with Trey’s mouth down there. I wasn’t sure about this at all.
“Don’t,” he said, “You let it come, baby. I want it now.”
My hands fisted his damp hair. His rhythm increased on each front, driving me to the edge. In that moment all that mattered was my release and it was there. My orgasm exploded around him; my body pulsated, my fluid gushed. I
felt Trey's mouth drinking it in and he moaned at the
intensity of it, sucking and licking at the core of my womanhood. My clitoral orgasm was right behind it, causing my body to shudder again and again as it continued to unfold in spasms of pure pleasure. I cried out his name over and over. Tears flowed down my cheeks as the release ebbed leaving me in total satisfaction and awe of Trey’s finesse with my body.
“Baby, you taste so sweet,” he murmured, drawing himself up on his knees.
I was weakened by the pure orgasmic experience. I was totally spent. I needed replenishment and I knew where to get it. I rose up and positioned myself on my forearms in front of Trey. His erection was bold and impressive. My hand encircled his shaft, as my tongue glided down the length of it, swirling around and around from head to root and back again. I took him fully into my mouth, carefully sheathing my teeth as my hands pressed his buttocks in towards me.
Trey moaned; his hands buried in my hair, twisting it at the nape to pull my head back. I looked up into his eyes that burned with desire and something else, not quite familiar. I increased my play at the head of his penis, nipping ever so gently at the supersensitive ridge. My hands kneaded his sack from behind. I let my finger trace his seam, gently rubbing the area near his prostrate.
“Oh, God, Tylar,” he gasped, thrusting his now engorged penis in and out of my mouth.
I watched as he clenched his jaw and his thrusting stopped.
I felt his penis throbbing as it emptied out into my mouth. I swallowed several times, the warm, salty liquid cleansing my throat, feeding my need for replenishment, my need for Trey. I waited for his last shudder that signaled he was empty. He relaxed back, pulling himself from my mouth.
He sat on the bed, and pulled me into his lap. He kissed my hair, my face, and my neck.
“You are mine,” he murmured softly.
“You are my sweet, sweet girl and no one else’s, do you understand that?”
I nodded, resting my head against his chest; his strong arms encircled me. We sat like that for several minutes. I could have stayed like that all night. I loved feeling safe, satisfied and secure in Trey’s arms. I started to drift off to sleep, my head rolled to the side.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get you tucked in for the night.”
Trey lifted me up, gently laying me down beneath the covers, pulling them up over me. He got up from the bed. I watched him go to his closet for a pair of silk boxers. I was always in awe of his perfect muscular body. He pulled them on. They hung low on his hips, his treasure trail visible on his flat abdomen. If our baby was a boy, I wanted him to look just like Trey. Hell, if our baby was a girl, I wanted her to look just like Trey. He was watching me watching him.
“What?” he asked, giving me his crooked grin, revealing his dimple.
“I was just wondering what our baby might look like.” I said shyly.
“As long as it doesn’t look like Mark, I will be satisfied,” he replied, climbing into bed beside me.
The spell was broken in that moment. How could Trey have made such a tasteless comment? Tears immediately sprang to my eyes. Did he suddenly doubt what he plainly saw? I turned my back to him, pulling the bed covers up tightly around me, moving to the very edge of the king-size bed.
“Hey,” he said, gently, moving over to me. “I was kidding, Tylar, it was a joke.”
He put his hand on my back, lowering his face so that his mouth was next to my ear.
“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean it. Please don’t be mad at me?”
I turned my face toward him. He saw the tears that had stained my cheeks. His face showed remorse as his thumb gently wiped the wetness from my cheeks.
“Don’t ever say anything like that to me again,” I warned, my voice quivering. “Do you think that I planned on being a mother at twenty-one, Trey? Have you stopped to think how this has affected me and my plans for the future?”
“Tylar, I said that I was--“
“I don’t care about your apology this time,” I interrupted him. “Some things aren’t automatically forgotten with a simple apology.”
He leaned over, kissing me on my forehead. I didn’t budge as I heard him settle beside me. In a few moments, I heard his even breathing. I was still too pissed to sleep. It would be a cold day in hell before I allowed him to fuck me again. My hormones could go to hell. Even they were snoring away, completely satiated for now.
The time was ticking away. It was just me, wide awake and feeling like I wanted to cry again. Then I felt it; a fluttery feeling inside my stomach. There was no mistaking it. My baby was moving inside of me. I placed my hand in the area to see if I could feel it from the outside. I could!
“Trey,” I said, turning over in the bed to face him. “Wake up.” I shook him gently.
His eyes blinked open. I threw the covers down and grabbed his hand.
“What is it Tylar?” he said, yawning.
“Here feel this,” I said, pressing his hand to my abdomen where I had just felt the baby move.
Once again, I felt the fluttering inside of me. I watched Trey’s face as the recognition of what he felt sunk in. He smiled, moving his hand around to different areas as the fluttering continued.
“How does it feel to you?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“Kind of like butterflies, but stronger,” I answered.
He leaned down, kissing my belly and abdomen. It warmed me some to see him do this.
I had no clue how Trey would be around a baby or child. There was no point of reference.
“Come here,” he murmured softly, pulling me to the center of the bed.
“Please forgive me for my comment, Tylar. You have to know that I know you’ve never been wi
th anyone else. I promise that we will work something out so that you can continue college and realize the dreams that you had prior to finding yourself in this situation. Will you trust me on that?”
I nodded, burying my face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, kissed my face and lips several times then drifted off into a peaceful slumber. His nearness, his scent, his touch were all part of the calming effect that he had on me. I was happy to be here with him and his family for Thanksgiving.
Our baby had settled down for the night as well it seemed. I placed my hand on my belly, right next to where Trey’s hand rested. The more pregnant I got, the less I wanted to be apart from Trey. I wondered how often we would see each other once this long weekend was over. For now, I was just happy that we had this time together. I looked forward to seeing Gina tomorrow as well. I finally drifted off to sleep with Trey wrapped around me, dreaming of babies with sapphire eyes.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
It was after ten o’clock in the morning when I woke up. Trey was already up and showered. He was now shaving in the bathroom as I pulled the covers back realizing that I was still naked. I grabbed my nightgown on the floor and shrugged it on.
Trey was standing at the vanity, his hair damp wearing sweats that hung low on his hips. He still had shaving cream on half of his face having finished one side. He watched me in the mirror as I came into the bathroom really having to pee.
“I’ve seen every part of your body, Tylar,” he said to me in the mirror. “If you have to pee, just sit down and pee.”
“I can’t do that in front of you,” I argued, growing more uncomfortable by the second.
“Hold on a sec,” he said, speeding up his razor to finish up the side of his face that still had shaving cream on it. Several strokes later, he rinsed his face, towel drying it with the towel that had been around his neck and gave me my privacy. He returned a few minutes later as I was already in the shower lathering my sponge up with Trey’s body wash. I realized that I needed a razor as mine was still in my suitcase.
“Trey,” I called out sweetly. “Could I borrow your razor? Mine is in my suitcase out there.”
He went out to his room coming back in a few minutes with my razor.
“I’d just as soon not draw blood again if you don’t mind.”
He was grinning. I finished my shower, shaving the pertinent areas, shampooing my hair again. I wrapped my hair up in a turban towel, and then myself in one of the larger fluffy bath towels. I retrieved my make-up case from Trey’s closet. I wanted to look my best today with the family and company coming.
Trey was just finishing up getting dressed. He was wearing a pair dark blue Eddie Bauer cotton chino pants with a white long sleeve oxford shirt. He pulled a camel colored
cashmere v-neck sweater over his head, rolling the sleeves of his shirt and sweater up mid forearm.
“I have some calls to make and emails to answer this morning, Tylar,” he said, as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on a pair of chestnut brown Linden oxfords and tying the shoestrings. “I’ll be working downstairs in the study. Do you want me to have Thatcher bring you some breakfast up?”
“Aren’t you eating?” I asked.
“Just coffee for me this morning. I want you having something more substantial.”
“That will be fine,” I answered, a bit piqued that he had calls to make and emails to answer on Thanksgiving morning. Who the hell was working on Thanksgiving?
I retreated back to the bathroom with my make-up case and hair products. It didn’t take long to blow dry my air and flat iron it. I plucked a few errant eyebrow hairs, and then proceeded to put some liner and shadow on my eyes. I brushed mascara on both the upper and lower lashes. My cheeks needed just a hint of blush so I lightly brushed it on.
I had brought a black desk-to-dinner dress with me to wear for Thanksgiving. It was a fitted polyester-spandex number that hit above the knee. It was a pullover style that had v-neckline. It was made to look like a wrap, so it gathered at the left hip. I put on the black bra that I had brought which was getting a bit tight with the blossoming of my bosom. It certainly gave my breasts a push upward and some daring cleavage. I pulled the black dress over my head, tugging it into place. Holy shit, was everything shrinking? The dress hugged every possible curve. The sleeves were three-quarter length. My breasts were amply displayed at the v-neckline, but it was still within the realm of tastefulness I decided.
There was a knock on the bedroom door. It was Thatcher with a breakfast tray.
“Good morning Ms. Preston,” he greeted warmly as I opened the door.
He walked past me placing the tray on the nightstand next to the bed.
“Thank you Thatcher,” I replied, eyeing the assortment on the tray.
“Please use the intercom if you need anything else, miss.”
Oh my God, did Trey think I was carrying quintuplets? There was orange juice, milk, fresh fruit, eggs, bacon, muffins, oatmeal with brown sugar topping, and wheat toast with assorted jams. I flicked the remote to turn the television on. I might be here for awhile I decided. I sat down on the bed and picked at a muffin. I really wasn’t all that hungry at the moment. I channel surfed until I found a music channel that played songs of the ‘80’s.
I finished up getting dressed, pulling my nylon thigh high stockings up. I had brought a pair of black ankle strap pumps with three inch heels. They would be perfect with my dress. I put silver hoop earrings in and checked myself in the bathroom mirror. The bust line of my dress was a bit tighter than I recalled. It was probably time for me to start shopping for pregnancy clothes when I got back.
I sat back down on the bed and finished the muffin and orange juice. I peeled a banana back and ate about half of that. I was full. I grabbed one of my vitamins, washing that down with a swig of milk.
I brushed my teeth and put a bit of tinted gloss on my lips afterward. I was ready for the day ahead. I wondered if Trey had finished with his work at least for now. I wanted to go out to the stable and see Derringer.
I hit the intercom button on the wall of Trey’s room. I didn’t want Trey coming back up before the breakfast tray had been retrieved from the room. A few moments later I heard Thatcher’s voice.
“Yes miss?”
“Hi Thatcher, it’s Tylar; I’ve finished with breakfast.
Shall I bring the tray down to the kitchen?”
I knew he would not allow me to do that but I still wanted to offer. Having servants hovering was something I was not used to and wasn’t sure I could ever be comfortable with it.
“I will send someone up, Ms. Preston. Are you ready for your room to be put to order?”
“Yes, that’s fine, thanks.”
I decided to go and see if Trey was finishing up. I recalled the study was just down and around the corner of an adjoining hall from the main hallway. I descended the staircase, my heels clicking against the marble floor in the front foyer, making my way down the main hallway and turning the corner to enter the adjoining wing. I could hear Trey’s voice from behind the closed door of the study.
“Are you absolutely sure she was living with him?” Who was he talking about? Who was he talking to I wondered.
“How long has she been gone? That fits the timing in question. Okay, call me next week after you get back.”
I felt guilty for standing outside eavesdropping on Trey’s conversation. I knocked on the door, and let myself in as he was finishing up his phone call. He glanced up as I entered, then did a double take.
“You are seriously not wearing that dress today are you?”
“Why?” I questioned, looking down at it.
“Because your breasts are fairly bursting out of it,” Trey replied, irritated. “Put something else on. I won’t have everyone in this house ogling you.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Trey,” I said, “The only people that will be here are your mom, your dad, a couple of old friends of theirs and the staff. I think I’m pretty saf
e from any ogling.”
He was ready to continue arguing the point but I cut him off quickly. I was not going to spend the next several hours around him if his foul mood continued.
“Can you drop me over at Becky’s?”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I would like to see Gina. You’re obviously still tied up with business,” I snapped.
His face softened as he realized just how much of a prick he had been.
“Come here,” he said, rolling back from his desk.
“No,” I replied, determined not to give in to his demands, tapping my foot impatiently.
“Come here I said,” he growled in mock anger, a hint of amusement crossing his handsome face.
He was patting his lap as if I was going to get it. I ignored him, turning my head. In a swift, panther-like movement, he was out of his chair and scooped me up into his arms like a sack of potatoes, twirling me around.
“Trey,” I shrieked, laughing as he spun me around. “Stop, I’m dizzy and you’re going to make me throw up that huge breakfast you ordered for me.”
He stopped twirling me and pulled me down on his lap as he sat down in his chair. I could feel his semi-erection as his hand moved inside the neckline of my dress, freeing one of my breasts from the confines of the too small bra.
“Mmmm,” he breathed huskily, lowering his head so that his mouth could find the nipple, now erect and straining toward him. His mouth covered my breast, softly licking and sucking it as my pleasure mounted.
My hand was in his hair, my fingers twining his burnished locks around them, pulling him closer to me.
His other hand was going up my thigh, finding my bare skin where the frilly elastic lace ended. His fingers plied beneath my silk panties touching my wetness, probing the folds of my sex.
My hips thrust forward to meet his exploring fingers, and I moaned softly as he inserted one and then another inside of me. Our breathing was ragged. This was not a normal venue for our lust. Family and servants nearby; we could be interrupted at any second.