Make Me a Mommy: A Mother's Day Secret Baby Romance

by Liz K. Lorde

Dana

  I’m on all fours on the bed, putting myself on display for Keagan. His eyes are on me, and I can imagine the look on his face without looking over my shoulder to confirm it.

  His face will be riddled with lust, already devouring me with his eyes. I stay like this, letting him look at me, letting him build up his desire for me until it’s unbearable.

  I like it when he looks at me like that. It makes me feel sexy. It makes me feel like I have power over him, rendering him useless until he gets what he needs.

  Sex is a game of give and take. So far, we’ve been sticking to the rules and playing fairly. Keagan seems to like control, to like it rough. I want to see that side of him.

  When he tells me what to do, I listen. When he asks for my body, I give it to him. And when he takes what he wants, I show him that I like it by moaning louder and gasping. Men are instinct driven, and sounds push them forward.

  I don’t have to try very hard to make those sounds, either. Keagan works magic with his hands. And his tongue. And his cock.

  The anticipation is driving me crazy. My skin tingles with my eagerness for his touch. My core tightens. My body is ready for what he wants to do to me. I take a deep breath and blow it out with a shudder. I try to picture us. Me on my hands and knees, ready for him. Keagan behind me, with his cock hard, his eyes drinking in my naked body.

  It’s hot as hell.

  Keagan shifts on the bed. The mattress dips as he moves and puts his hands on my hips. I love it when he does this, when he guides me where he needs me. I know he’s positioning himself, lining himself up to plunge into me. I want it. My body yearns for it.

  I thought he was angry or disappointed with me when we came home. He was sulky and sullen and barely speaking to me. Keagan in a bad mood isn’t pretty, and I’ve known it for as long as I’ve known him.

  But it turns out, he’s over his little fit. He might have slept it off. Maybe he’s restored his own ego. Whatever it is, he’s here now. He wants me, too.

  When his cock pushes against my entrance, I hold my breath. I shiver and wait for him to slide into me. His cock pushes my walls apart, making a way for itself until he’s buried to the hilt. He’s large, filling me up. I move my hips, relishing the feel of him.

  He’s hard and smooth, all at the same time. I shudder. The feeling of his cock inside of me is pure bliss. I gasp when he pulls out again, almost all the way, then shoves himself back inside me.

  “Is this what you wanted?” he asks into the dark.

  I nod. He knows it is. I don’t have to answer him. Whatever happens between us when we’re not fucking, whatever we disagree about or feel for each other, it all falls away when our clothes come off. I like that we are just ourselves, that the only things that matter are bliss and pleasure and ecstasy.

  He starts fucking me, harder and faster. His cock drives in and out of me. I tip my head back and moan. He’s going deeper and deeper. My body rocks back and forth, and my breasts swing freely. His balls slap against my pussy, and I jerk now and then when he nails my clit. The sensation is exactly what I’ve been waiting for. I moan and cry out and let the sensations sweep me away.

  “Fuck, Dana,” Keagan says with a grunt. “I love your pussy.”

  His words are dirty, and I love them.

  “I love your cock,” I reply, but the words leave in bursts of air, in time with his fucking. “I love it when you fuck me like this.”

  Keagan groans when I talk dirty back to him, saying the same kind of things. There’s something about talking dirty that heightens everything. For a while, all I hear is our moans, my cries, his balls slapping my pussy, and the squelching that comes with sex.

  The room smells like sex, too, a mixture of my arousal and his masculine scent. And I love it. Keagan reaches around my hips and finds my clit with his fingers. He rubs it roughly. The sensation, although crude, creates more pleasure. An orgasm starts building at my core. If he keeps going like this, I’m going to spontaneously combust.

  My arms start giving out. My body goes numb when I get closer and closer. I lay myself down so that my chest is on the bed. My body slopes up to my ass, still in the air.

  Keagan lets go of my clit all too soon and leans forward, his hips pumping relentlessly. He touches my cheek with his hand, and his fingers graze my lips. I turn my head and take a finger into my mouth, sucking while he hammers into me from behind. He groans. The finger in my mouth is erotic. The more parts of my body he engages, the more I enjoy it. When he uses me for his pleasure, it gives me pleasure, too.

  He doesn’t keep this up for every long, either. It’s like he’s searching for something that will tickle his fancy, something that will push him over the edge. He can keep searching. The sex is great, and whatever he does, it pushes me further to the edge.

  Keagan’s hand slides over my hair. He pushes his hand into my hair and closes his fist, grabbing a handful of hair. When he pulls, it doesn’t hurt. He’s got enough hair in his fist. He tips my head back without me being able to stop it.

  With my head back, I’m forced to arch my back and stick my ass out farther. My body is pulled into position, and Keagan uses my hair as leverage to fuck me harder and harder until I’m crying out.

  I can’t lie down anymore, my body back in the proper doggy style position. He runs his other hand over my back, my ribs, my hips, caressing me. His name and other words tumble out of my mouth. I like it rough. I’ve never had it rough before, and Keagan is showing me what it can be like. He’s taking what he wants. I want him to take more.

  Keagan seems to know what I want. He pounds into me harder and harder. I arch my back as far as I can, his grip on my hair tight and unrelenting. I close my eyes and let the wave of ecstasy consume me.

  When he’s had enough, he lets got of my hair. I lean forward, gasping. He pulls out, and I feel his absence acutely. He runs his hands over my hips before he grips me. He flips me over, and I land on the springy mattress, rolling over so that I’m on my back.

  Keagan’s face is tight with concentration. He looks serious. Keagan takes my legs, hands on my shins, and he holds them together. He puts them up against his chest and over one shoulder. I’m pressed against him.

  I look at him, breathing hard. There is hunger in his eyes and something primal. My ass is lifted off the mattress enough for him to reach me, and he guides himself with his hand, pushing into me.

  I groan and feel him plunge deeper than before.

  He pumps in and out of me slowly a few times. It’s for my benefit, I’m sure. So I can get used to him. Then he picks up his pace. He goes in so deep it almost hurts, but it’s a good pain, and I clench my jaw and cry out.

  My moans erupt in the rhythm Keagan has adopted. He pounds into me hard and fast, holding onto my legs, keeping me there. I splay my arms to the sides to steady myself on the bed. My breasts jiggle, and my breathing is fast and shallow.

  Keagan is moaning and groaning, too. His lips are parted, and his eyes are on me, sliding over my body, taking in the sight of me, naked, legs up in the air. I close my eyes and give myself over. I focus on his cock, stroking over my G-spot. My orgasm builds again. Keagan has a way of postponing my orgasms, drawing them out, building them bigger and bigger, until they shatter me when they finally happen.

  It drives me crazy every time with lust and desperation, but the orgasms are so intense, I don’t want him to do it any differently.

  He’s doing it again now, building another orgasm. I don’t doubt that I’ll be denied a release for a while longer still. I can see it in his eyes, feel it in the way he fucks me. We’re not close to finished.

  The sex is intense. Darkness wraps around us, except for the silver moonlight. The night has a quality to it that’s different than before. Everything feels surreal. I’m caught in a dream where I’m living with Keagan, the man who I’ve grown up with as my stepbrother, and we’re fucking. It doesn’t make sense, but we’re doing it, and I’m letting it happen because it feels so good. />
  Being around him as often as I am feels so good. I have no idea where we stand. I don’t know what I feel, and I don’t know what he wants from me besides the obvious. I know that the sex is fucking good when we have it. For now, it’s all that matters. Right this minute, the pure pleasure trumps everything else. I will keep doing this, and only this, if that’s what it comes down to.

  I can’t think rationally about anything when I’m having the best sex ever, and I can’t be real about anything when I’m on the edge of a mind-blowing orgasm. I push the thoughts away. I stop thinking and allow myself to just feel.

  I focus on the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of me, his hands wrapped around my legs, his eyes on my body.

  Keagan is grunting and groaning. His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and he has a look of concentration on his face. It’s endearing when he gets this serious about it.

  I close my eyes again.

  Keagan

  Fucking her is pure ecstasy. I’ve had sex before, but with Dana, everything is different. It’s like we’re connected on a deeper level, and that makes everything so much more intense than it already is.

  She’s a ton of fun, too. She’s open to anything, and I can test and explore. When she let me grab her hair and fuck her that way, putting her completely at my mercy, I was ready for her to ask me to stop.

  She didn’t.

  And now I’m ready to explore more, to try out all the fantasies I’ve had of her. I want to try different positions and different rooms with her. I want to make up for everything I missed out on.

  With her legs, Dana is a sight to behold. Her breasts are beautiful as they wobble back and forth. Her nipples are tight buttons, just waiting for me to suck on them. But I’m not planning on going there. Not right now.

  I have other things in mind.

  I stop pounding her and pull out. She groans in frustration, and I grin. I know she’s been building an orgasm again. I don’t want her to find a release. Not yet. The longer I draw it out, the more intense her orgasms get, and I challenge myself to see how far I can push it.

  “I want you on top of me,” I say, crawling onto the bed next to her. She smiles.

  “Reverse cowgirl,” I add, and her grin grows.

  She nods eagerly and sits up. She wants to try new positions with me. If that’s not perfection in a woman, I don’t know what is. Most women prefer missionary, which is the epitome of dull on the sex scale. You have to do all the work. You can’t grab their asses because they’re lying on it. And then it’s over.

  Dana isn’t like that, I’m learning.

  She gets onto me, her back to me. She straddles me and lifts her ass. I guide my cock to her entrance, and she sits down on me. I’m deep inside her again, and everything feels different. My cock pushes up against the natural slant of her body, and the pressure is different. She gasps and moves her hips back and forth, testing it.

  Her back faces me, and I run my hands over it. Her skin is flawless. She starts rocking her hips back and forth, harder and faster, building friction on my cock. She moans, and I gasp, putting my hands on her ass. Her cheeks are spread, her legs are on either side of my hips, and I squeeze her ass cheeks as she rides me harder and faster.

  I’m in charge. I like calling the shots. I like when she agrees with me and does what I want to do. And God, I like this view of her back and her ass. Her body is perfect, but not in a model kind of way. She has imperfections but they only add to her beauty.

  She rides me harder and faster still, her hips bucking back and forth as she fucks me. She cries out, and I get lost in the sensation of my own orgasm building. This is it. I’m not going to be able to hold on much longer. She moves her arms, and I realize she’s playing with her breasts, probably tugging at her own nipples while she’s riding me.

  She moves one hand down, and I know she’s playing with herself, fingering her clit while she rides me. Her body tightens on mine. Ripples that precede her orgasm course through her body. She twitches and jerks over now and then, and she tips back her head so her medium-length hair hangs down her back a little farther. I reach up and run my hand through her hair, but I’m not going to hold onto it again. Not this time.

  She moves her other hand down. and a moment later. her fingers find my balls. I jerk in surprise. The feeling is unexpected, but she caresses my balls, squeezing them lightly while she plays with herself and rides me. It’s multitasking at it’s very finest. This is why I think women have been given that talent.

  Her body tightens more, her walls squeeze down on me, and I know she’s close. Combined with her ragged breathing and moaning, her orgasm can’t be far off at all. I’m getting closer, too. I try to hold back, but there’s only so much I can do before my body defies my commands and does what it wants to.

  When she orgasms, I can feel it. Her body clamps down on mine, and she leans forward, her body curling around the orgasm. She cries out before she goes silent, and I know what her face looks like without seeing it.

  I hold onto her ass and start bucking my hips, pumping into her. She’s so damn tight now. She braces herself with one hand on the bed, her balance shot. I fuck her, hard, and I feel my orgasm building.

  When I finally release, it’s violent, and I pump into her, emptying out. My cock quivers and twitches, and I know that I’m depositing a lot more inside of her than usual. It’s like she draws more out of me, every time.

  Her orgasm lasts, drawn out, until mine stops. She tips her head back, her body relaxes again, and she breathes hard. I run my hands over her back. Her skin is slick with sweat.

  Slowly, she moves off me. I can feel how tight she is now when I slip out of her, and she gasps. She crawls onto the bed next to me and collapses with a sigh.

  “God, Keagan,” she says.

  I grin and put my arm around her. She moves onto my chest, and it’s like our bodies were made to fit together. She lies on my chest, her leg thrown over mine, her face in my neck. Her breathing slows, as does her pulse, which I can feel on my chest where her body is pressed against mine.

  I start to relax as well, my body spent. I close my eyes, and the exhaustion of sex and lack of sleep slowly starts to catch up with me. My breathing steadies.

  Dana’s body twitches, and I know she’s falling asleep.

  I kiss her on the head and make a move to return to my own bed, leaving her to sleep. She wraps her arm around my chest.

  “Please, stay?” she whispers.

  I nod and lie back down. She sits up and pulls the sheet over us before taking her place on my chest again. She sighs, and a moment later, she’s asleep.

  I don’t lie awake for much longer. She wants me to stay. There’s more between us than just sex, and it’s starting to show. If Dana wants to cuddle with me afterward, there’s something between us. Something more than just physical.

  I don’t want to label it or get my hopes up, but until now, I walked away because I wanted to respect her wishes. If she’s asking me to stay, now, it’s a good sign.

  I don’t know where it will lead, but it’s good.

  I glance at the clock on the nightstand. It’s just before five in the morning. Birds are starting to chirp outside, celebrating the pending dawn. Tomorrow, or today really, is Sunday. We can sleep until whatever time we like, and then get up, get breakfast, and spend the day together.

  This is what I want. I want to be with her.

  Satisfied, I slip into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  When I open my eyes again, the sun is high in the sky, and the day as a quality to it that suggests it’s been up for a while. When I glance at the clock, it’s noon. Dana lies next to me, her hair spread out on the pillow, and she’s breathing evenly. I take a moment to study her face. She looks younger when she’s sleeping, pure. I touch her cheek and press my lips to hers, and she sighs.

  I lie back and stretch myself out. My body is a little stiff from the sex, and I can still feel her on my cock. The feeling is amazing.

&nb
sp; “Morning,” Dana says next to me, waking up.

  “Afternoon,” I say, smiling at her.

  She lifts her head, squinting at me. “It’s that late?”

  I nod. “Noon,” I say.

  She yawns and stretches out, too. The covers slip from her body, and I look at her. Perfect breasts, flat stomach, wide hips. The perfect kind of woman.

  She sees me looking and smiles at me. She runs her hands down her own body, over her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, and then into the middle, over her pussy and back up again. Her eyes are on mine, and her smile is mischievous.

  “You’re a tease,” I say.

  She giggles and sits up.

  “I need to take a shower,” she says. She looks at me. “Join me?”

  I nod and get up, following her into the bathroom. She turns on the hot water and steps underneath the spray. The water runs through her hair, wetting it. I watch her.

  The water runs over her skin in droplets, and she looks like something out of a summer ad. She’s hot. I step into the shower, too, and wrap my arms around her.

  We stand under the water together, pressed up against each other, and I caress her, running my hands up and down her back over her arms. She tips her head up at me, and I kiss her.

  I’m hard again, pressing against her, but this not about fucking her. I just want to be with her.

  She runs her hands over my body as well. We’re quiet. The only sound is the sound of the shower.

  She shampoos her hair, soaps up her body, and she’s wet and slippery. I let my hands slide over her breasts and her stomach, while she’s busy. My cock throbs, but still, I’m not going to have sex with her now. I don’t want to ruin the strange, emotional atmosphere that’s building between us.

  When we’re both clean, we step out of the shower. She gets dressed in shorts and a t-shirt that outlines her body. I find the boxer shorts she discarded earlier, and while she combs out her hair, I go to my room and get dressed.

  When we walk to the kitchen, the doorbell rings. I frown and walk to the door, looking through the peephole. Susan and my dad are on the other side of the door. I stifle a groan.