Prolog
A thirteen year old boy lives in the suburbs with his family. Their neighborhood has a community pool where the local families often spend their free time. This spring is the first year that mom and dad have let the young boy and his older brother venture to the pool without their supervision. Seeing this as a great leap of freedom, they endeavor to spend every Saturday at the pool that they can.
Being “of that age” the young boy spends almost as much time playing with his brother and friends in the pool as he does watching the girls and women who also frequent it’s clear blue waters. And so it happens, that he notices when a new family that just moved in makes their first appearance.
A young couple, maybe late twenties, early thirties. Dad is tall, fit, blond hair. He spends most of his time teaching and playing with their 4-year-old daughter in the shallow end of the pool. Mom is shorter, brown hair, clear skin, smooth, and supple. She spends most of her time sunning by the side of the pool, occasionally watching daddy and daughter and encouraging their fun.
But what really catches the young boy’s attention is the subtle belly bump the mother is showing.
Now, the little boy has seen pregnant women before. But it has not been until recently that he’s really known what it was and had an interest in the persons to whom it happens. The collision of his newfound knowledge, rising hormones, and quality of the example he has now been presented, results in a young man having a crisis of strange new feelings he has not had before, much less knows what to do with.
As luck would have it, the new family spends almost as much time at the community pool as the little boy and his brother. Each weekend, the young boy eagerly sets out for the pool under the veil of boyhood fun, only to spend his time lurking to view the mother-to-be. Each week, he memorizes her shape, notes the details of her various one piece and two-piece swimsuits, and tries to hide his raging hormones and the natural effects they have on his mind and body. Each week, as the mother gets larger and larger, the young boy watches in fascination as she rubs lotions on her skin, beams with the warmth and beauty of motherhood, and makes subtle motions and sounds that only those making a new life do.
But, all things come to an end. Just as the mother-to-be has reached the last weeks of her pregnancy, the pool is closed for the winter, and the boy is separated from his infatuation. In time he sees the family again but is disappointed to see the mother now carrying the new baby in her arms, and no longer growing the new life within. While his interest in her fades, his feelings about women with growing bellies are just beginning, and a long kept secret desire is born.
I had finally made it. All the long hours, all the hard work, and I was finally an executive.
Technically, my new title was Vice President of technical development, AKA “king of the nerds” (engineers). And at only 30, I was the youngest VP FutureCom had ever hired. Sure, it had cost me years of hard work, long hours, and high stress (I already had a few grey hairs to show for it) not to mention a small graveyard of failed relationships, but I finally had what I wanted. Six figures, good suits, a corner office, and luxury travel. Not to mention a new job at the most productive, secretive, and loved-by-its-employees company in the world.
FutureCom is so successful and loved because it uses technology to its advantage. Examples included the company AI, Jarvis, I’d met on my first day, and the small pucks we wore on our temples during working hours. The latter allowed us to communicate with Jarvis and interact with company computer systems. It took me some time to get used to them both, but man did it make things easier.
As a result of this tech, FutureCom has a highly distributed workforce. But it does still have a central complex, and Jarvis and the other executives insisted on a monthly in-person meeting to keep up morale and appearances. My satellite office was a good four hour flight from “the fortress” as outsiders sometimes called it. And so it was that FutureCom was sending me on my first visit to the home offices. With only a few days adjusting to the company and my new digs, Jarvis had printed tickets for me and informed me to prepare for travel to the monthly executive meeting.
In my rush to get ready and prepare, I had not really looked at the travel arrangements in much detail, so I was surprised when the executive Uber booked for me went past the main terminals of the airport and out to the opposite side of the airfield. There, the driver pulled up to a large white hangar that simply said “Executive Experience Air” on the side. It was then that I finally looked at the tickets and confirmed, I was indeed flying EEA. While I had never heard of them, it was clear they were a private airline and that could only mean one thing: first class personal service. As a smile grew on my face, I tipped the driver and stepped out of the car.
While I had been pondering my tickets, a well-dressed man appeared next to the car and pulled my bag from the back of the Uber.
“Mr. Smith?” he asks.
“Yes, that’s me” I answer, still grinning.
“Glad to have you with us sir. I see you are booked on our next departure. You’re first time with us?”
“Yes, and I’m excited to be here”. I quip.
“Excellent, sir! I personally promise you will enjoy your travel with us. If you will hand me your ticket and follow me into the terminal, I will take care of your bag and all the formalities”.
“Off to a great start” I beam, as I hand him my ticket.
As we pass through an airlock set of thick tinted sliding glass doors, the concierge directs me into a large lounge area.
“Please have a seat and, if you wish, a beverage in our lounge area. We will be boarding and departing in about 20 minutes. I’ll take care of everything else.” He says, just before shuffling off to a service station at the side of the lounge.
“Thank you” I reply, as I pause and survey the scene before me.
At least two dozen large black leather sofas, recliners, and benches with a myriad of coffee and end tables are arranged about the large lounge. Sitting in ones and a few twos are 20 or so well-dressed people. I estimate they ranged from late thirties to mid-fifties. Most are men, but more than a few are women. All seem fit, sharp, and confident. Some are reading, some are sipping a drink, and some are watching the rest of the room. They are clearly my fellow executive passengers.
What really catches my attention, however, are the women moving among them. Younger, on average, and almost equal in number to the passengers, is a flock of stunningly beautiful stewardesses. Each woman is wearing a tight-fitting sleeveless white top, blue knee length pleather pencil skirt, matching 4-inch heels, black nylons, and a small grey scarf. Each has a name tag over her left breast, and each is exquisitely beautiful. Tall, short, thin, curvy, Asian, Indian, African, Hispanic, and Caucasian. As I scan their numbers it seems that every flavor of idyllic beauty is represented among them. My grin is replaced by wide eyes and a bit of a gawk.
I quickly regain my composure and walk into the room. Taking up a seat, alone, near the outside of the arrangement of sofas, I begin surveying the scene. Some of the hostesses remain on the perimeter, standing at comfortable attention waiting for service, some deliver drinks from a nearby bar, while others sit with a few of the other execs and quietly chat.
As I continue to admire my new surroundings, I find that my eyes keep coming back to one of the hostesses serving drinks to the other execs. Five foot six, supple (a thirty-something Bryce Dallas Howard or Jeri Ryan come to mind) with smooth pale skin, she moves with unusual grace and control. Each time she bends at the waist to place or retrieve a drink, her mid-back length broad ponytail spills over her shoulder, illuminating her shimmering reddish-brown hair.
It is not long before she notices my attention. As she rises from delivering another drink, her face turns toward me with an intent gaze. Her piercing eyes are deep and green and her smiling lips glisten with a deep red lipstick. For a moment, my breath stops, and I cannot take my eyes off her as she stands, still holding my gaze.
Just then, a sensual voice with an Asian accent startles me out of my internal fantasies.
“Can I get you something Mr. Smith?”
“Er, um… I’m sorry?” I stammer, looking into a beautiful Korean woman’s face to my left.
“Can I get you something to drink before the flight, Mr. Smith?”
“Oh. Sure. Yes please... A gin and tonic please… Hana?” I quickly read her name tag.
“With pleasure Mr. Smith” Hana says with a smile as she turns and heads for the bar.
I looked back to where the brunette had been, but she has turned and is headed back to the bar to continue her service.
Hana brings me my gin and tonic, and I sip it, continuing to contemplate my surroundings and my new station in life. I had imagined “the good life, executive edition” but this was already exceeding my expectations. I pick up a boating magazine from the nearby table and start to read.
Twenty minutes later, the concierge who had taken my bag arrives at the side of the room and begins an announcement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience as we prepare your flight. If you will head through the terminal doors to my right, we’ll get everyone onboard and get underway.”
As I rise, I hold my drink and the magazine and look around. My “pre-exec” mind wants to know who I should give my drink and magazine to before I get on the plane. As if reading my mind, Hana arrives beside me with an answer.
“Please feel free to take the drink and any reading materials you wish with you onto the flight, Mr. Smith.”
“Oh, thank you.” I blink.
She smiles and nods towards the terminal doors. I put on my best “Alrighty then” face and start towards them.
As I exit with the other passengers, the aircraft that appears before me stops me in my tracks.
It’s huge. Not quite “Air Force One” huge, but far larger than I think it should be for the twenty or so passengers I had counted. I searched my memory from previous travels and guessed it would normally hold 200 or more passengers. Its simple livery consists of mostly white with blue lower panels and a light gray logo on the tail. Really? All this for just us? Wow.
As I climb the stairs and enter the front of the plane, I find even more extravagance. Each passenger has a luxurious grey leather recliner and a mahogany working surface that swivels into position in front of each seat. The carpet and trim are all top of the line, and the inlaid lighting slowly ebbs and flows between relaxing colors.
As I walk down the center of the expansive front room of the aircraft, a hostess directs me to one of the seats near the back of the cabin with a smile. It’s not until I’m seated and looking about the cabin from my swiveling recliner that I realize we are only in the first third of the aircraft. Behind us a center hallway continues down the length of the aircraft with what looks like doors to rooms along either side. Just as I lean to get a view down the hallway, one of the hostesses pulls a curtain at the entrance with a smile.
Everyone is aboard quickly, and in no time at all, we are rumbling down the runway. I watch my city shrink below us and disappear behind the clouds, drink still in hand. This really is a new life.
As we level off at cruising altitude, Hana appears at the front of the plane and begins another address.
“Welcome aboard ladies and gentlemen. Our flight time will be approximately 4 hours and 20 minutes.”
As Hana continues, another hostess appears beside me and hands me a small e-reader sized tablet.
“At this time, we will begin offering our premium executive services. Please take a moment to review the service plan on your tablet, order additional food or beverages, and leave us any feedback.”
I have no idea what “premium executive services” means but scanning the tablet I see “drink service” and quickly find the buttons for another gin and tonic. I then find “music selection” on the tablet and locate a pair of premium headphones hanging on the side of the recliner. As my second drink arrives, I have the headphones on and am happily relaxing to some chill electronic tunes.
For some time I sit, sipping my gin, and thumbing through my boating magazine. Except for the occasional drink service, the cabin is empty except for each passenger passing the time in their own way. As such, it does not really register with me when two hostesses pass by me, making slight jingling sounds, and heading for the front of the cabin. A few moments later I see them pass aft out of the side of my vision with two passengers. I can’t be sure, but my side vision seems to detect a silver chain heading from the first hostesses’ hand behind her back up to the neck of the passenger behind her. Immediately behind them is the second hostess towing the second passenger by gripping a short chain between leather handcuffs on the passenger’s wrists.
I blink for a moment, staring straight ahead, not believing what I think I have seen. By the time I look back to confirm what I thought I had seen, they have vanished through the curtain into the hallway.
Did I really see that? No. Surely not. I go back to reading my magazine.
A few moments later, another hostess walks forward past me. This time I look up, just as she turns to face another passenger ahead of me. What I see makes my eyes go wide and I blink repeatedly. The hostess is still dressed in her uniform, but now has a thin silver collar around her neck with a silver chain leash. The silver chain ends in a black strap that she holds in her outstretched hand, offering it to the woman in front of her.
The woman passenger looks up and they exchange smiles. She then takes the end of the leash from the hostess, stands, and walks into the back of the aircraft, hostess in tow.
I am still blinking. This could not be real. I surely have fallen asleep and am dreaming on the airplane.
Just then another hostess passes forward. Her wrists are bound behind her back with black leather cuffs and a short silver chain. When she turns to face a male passenger, she reveals a large red ball gag framed by her glistening red lips. Her eyes show a smile where her lips cannot. The male passenger smiles back, stands, and follows the hostess to the back of the plane.
I’m getting uncomfortable and nervous. If this is a dream, why have I not woken up. I’ve never had a dream like this, if it is one. And if it is real… if this is real… what is going on?
“Is everything all right Mr. Smith?” Hana’s voice and sudden appearance at my side startle me again, even with my headphones on.
“I… um… I” I can’t form a sentence.
“I see you have not reviewed your service plan on the tablet. Is everything OK?” She presses.
“I didn’t… no. I have not looked at my… what did you call it?”
“Your service plan?”
“Right. Service plan. No, I got distracted and…”
“That’s OK Mr. Smith.” She soothes, placing her hand on my forearm. “I see that this is your first time with us?”.
“Yes.” I pause. “Um, did I just see…”
“Our premium executive services. Yes! And that is why I am here. I wanted to make sure you were ready to begin yours, but I saw you had not yet reviewed your plan.”
“My plan. Right. What is my plan for?” I’m getting confused again.
“Mr. Smith, please relax. Our mission is to provide the most comprehensive and relaxing flight experience possible for our premium executive customers. Each member is provided with an individually customized experience tailored to their unique needs and desires.” Hana explains.
“Needs... And desires… What kinds?”
“All kinds,” she said with a smile. “Since this is your first time with us, why don’t we assume that your profile is accurate and just ease into your experience. I promise you’ll love your time with us.”
“Um. My profile?...experience… with you?”
Hana smiles again “Jarvis, FutureCom’s AI? He sent ahead your profile. He noted that you had not been with the company long, but he felt confident he had your profile correct.” Her face then takes on the grin of an aunt teasing a young child “As for me, well, I’m flattered, but I think you’ve made a better selection already”.
“I did?” I ask quizzically.
“Please Mr. Smith, just come with me and I promise you’ll enjoy yourself.” She holds out her hand.
I can’t believe how nervous I am. I nearly stumble as I stand and try to take her hand. If there had been an overhead bin, I would have cracked my skull on it. I have had experiences with a dozen or so women before, but paying for sex, or kink, or whatever this was, was way outside my comfort zone. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as Hana leads me through the curtain and down the hallway into the back of the aircraft. I can’t believe this is happening or that I am going along with it, but something that I didn’t know was inside of me, wants to know what happens next.
Hana opens one of the doors and leads me in. Inside is a simple white bed, almost queen size, with some storage drawers and cupboards, what looks like a doorless closet, and a touch screen on one of the walls. As I step in and turn around, I stammer…
“So what should I… I mean, if not you then… what happens next?” my voice is getting higher pitched by the word.
Hana smiles again “Relax Mr. Smith. Sandra will be with you shortly.”
“Sandra? Ok. Er… Thank you?”
Hana closes the door.
Not knowing what else to do, I take off my jacket and my shoes and stow them in the open closet. Just as I am looking around nervously and wondering what to do with myself and what I am getting into, the door opens again and Sandra, the supple brunette, slides inside and closes the door behind her.
Sandra’s luscious red lips are smiling, and her deep green eyes are locked on mine as she slowly and smoothly crosses the small room and gently pushes me against the opposite wall. I start to try and stammer a question, but before I can, a narrow finger with a red painted nail presses to my lips. Her other hand softly grippes the inside of my left thigh, and then begins a slow sliding stroke up to my growing. When it gets there, it finds my member already engorging itself as my nostrils are filled with her flowery perfume scent. 15 seconds in and I am already dizzy with lust.
Before I can protest, Sandra takes one hand to my belt and another to my zipper, and deftly unzips my pants, opens my briefs within, and exposes my now throbbing member. Gently stroking it with her left hand, she holds my gaze, grinning ever wider. Then she leans into my left ear and whispers in a slow and seductive voice:
“It's nice to finally meet you Mr. Smith. My name is Sandra, and I’ll be taking care of your executive service today.”
Still tugging my manhood, she moves to my right ear, pressing her breasts against my now panting chest.
“I know what you really want. I know what you want, that you don’t even know that you want. What you’ve really wanted for so long. What you’ve really wanted since you saw me.”
I am seriously delirious now as my fear, excitement, and the intoxicating smell of her has turned my brain into an overwhelming electrical storm. All I can manage to do is press back against the wall and continue to breathe intensely. Sandra moves back to my left ear, this time not only pressing her breasts into me, but pushing her hips forward, using her tugging hand to drive my rock hard cock into the material of her skirt in between her legs. She begins to slowly tease the tip of my member up and down along her inner thighs, and every time the tip touches her pubic mound, my whole body shivers.
Again, I am not a stranger to sex, but I have never had a woman so deftly and directly turn me on and overwhelm me. I’m not sure what I am supposed to do and can’t think straight enough to figure it out. Even her breathing in my ear is driving me wild.
Then she continues “I’m going to give you what you’ve always wanted but never been able to ask for. But first, I think you’re far too wound up to enjoy it properly.” She is still slowly teasing my cock against her skirt. “What do you say we break the ice and relieve some of your tension?”
I dumbly nod. Then, thinking she means some foreplay, began to lean forward to begin feeling and kissing her.
Before I can, she releases my member and pushes herself back with a hand to my chest. A wide smile spreads across her face as she holds my hungry gaze.
Reaching behind her head, Sandra removes the hair tie holding her ponytail in place. Then, with a shake of her head, a cascade of shimmering brown hair falls over her shoulders. In moments the smell of her wafts into my nostrils and I grunt in carnal hunger.
Kneeling in front of me, Sandra then gently uses her fingers to extricate my balls to the outside of my clothing and gently cups them in her left hand. With two fingers on her right hand, she then lifts my shaft to in front of her mouth and, making a small o shape with her lips, presses and holds a kiss on the very tip of my member.
After holding for just a moment, she begins to slowly press her lips over my glands. First a third of the way, then back. Then half way, then back. Then to the base of my glands and back. Then repeating that several times. As she slowly teases my tip with her lips, she is also gently caressing it with her tongue. Top, then bottom, then a slow circle clockwise, then a slow circle counter clockwise.
Most women who have given me oral sex have just tried to swallow my cock like an unchewed piece of sausage. Usually, it resulted in marginally adequate sensations for me and a lot of not-sexy choking noises on their part. The control and sensitivity with which Sandra is now fellating me and gently tugging and massaging my testicles is a wholly new experience. Every motion she makes is slow, smooth, controlled, and sends sensations into my body I have never felt before.
Just as I was thinking, “Yes! I’ve always wanted this!” Sandra pauses, with her lips an inch or two below my glands. I gasp and look down as the sensations cut short. Sandra is looking up at me with big round fawn eyes as if to ask “Better? Want to keep going? Show me that you want to keep going.”
Instinctively, I slowly move my open hands to the upper back of her head and press them into her hair. With her free hand Sandra grips my left hand and squeezes it into a ball, taking a fistful of hair with it. As I mirror the grip with my left hand, Sandra closes her eyes and sighs an “mmm hmm”. It is my turn to drive.
Now moving her head with my grip in her hair, I slowly begin to continue her pattern of extending each stroke a tiny amount further onto my shaft. With each stroke she continues to tug the bottom of my member with her tongue. As it gets deeper and deeper, I began to breathe more and more heavily with each stroke. I begin to feel a tingle spread from my feet, up my legs and into my groin, the slow beginning of an orgasm.
As the stroke begins to reach the back of her throat, I remembered the sickening noises other women had made and start to back off. As if reading my thoughts, Sandra hums a soothing “hm mm”. I am panting heavily now and my groin is tensing for the coming explosion. I want to feel her lips at the base of my shaft and press into her, but I don’t want to hurt her or hear those sickening sounds. My wants get the better of me and I drive deep into her throat.
To my surprise, not only does she take it without effort, she continues to furiously lap the bottom of my shaft with her tongue with each thrust, sucking me and encouraging me to gather my load.
Sandra continues her encouragement with ever louder “mmm hmmm!” s every few strokes.
As my insides clench, my animal brain takes full control and I press her against my groin so hard her nose crushes against my skin.
A load like I have not felt in ages surges out of me and into the back of her throat. Still milking my shaft with her tongue, Sandra swallows each spurt, making only a subtle gulping sound as each slides down to her stomach.
My full body seizure seems to last forever. The massage and gulping hold me in pleasurable agony far beyond any orgasm I’ve had before.
When I finally regain my self-control, I slowly release my death grip on her hair and guide her head away from my body. As her lips slowly slide off my shaft, she mews with satisfaction. When I let go completely, she gently sucks my tip, licking the last of my seed before gently sliding her lips off my glands.
Still panting and now spent, I blink, dumbly, and slump against the wall.
Sandra stands, removes her small scarf, and uses it to wipe her lips.
“I can tell you hated that.” She quips with a smile.
“I… you… you were right. I didn’t know I wanted that” I stumble, trying to regain my composure.
“Oh, we haven’t gotten to that part yet. That was just an ice breaker to make sure you’re relaxed enough to enjoy yourself.”
“Wait… what?” I stammer.
Sandra turns away from me and heads for the wall with the storage and touch screen. “Please take off your clothes, Mr. Smith, and place them in the cubby behind you with your coat.”
“David” I offer.
“Please take off your clothes… David” Sandra corrects, with a sultry look over her shoulder.
“Actually, is there a…”
“The lavatory is through that small door” Sandra cuts me off, pointing to a door in the corner of the room.
I enter the bathroom and begin to relieve myself. “So, that was easily the best oral sex I’ve ever had, Sandra, but I have to be honest, I’ve never really been into the bondage stuff. I mean, some light stuff is fun and all, but it’s not really what gets me going.” I call from the bathroom back into the bedroom.
“Don’t worry David, bondage wasn’t in your profile. Your desires, while still a little different, are much more… wholesome”.
I finish my business, zip up, and head back. “You all keep talking about my profile and knowing what I want, but I don’t see how you could know what I want when I can’t…” My thought is cut short as I step into the room.
Sandra, standing near the side of the bed, has removed her blouse, skirt, and shoes. Her body is even more exquisite than I had imagined. Her smooth pale breasts round perfectly above a lacey light blue bra with spaghetti straps extending over her shoulders. A matching lacey light blue pair of crotchless panties lightly hang from her perfectly smooth hips and her black nylon stockings only further smooth and lengthen her flowing legs. Even her imperfections seemed to turn me on. A freckle here and there, a small scar begging to tell me a story, and the soft belly with barely perceptible signs of stretch marks, all make me want to fall into her goddess-like body.
Capitalizing on my being dumbstruck yet again, Sandra opens her palm to show two small discs. Taking the first one, she taps it to her left temple, where it sticks. She then moves towards me with the second, gently tapping it to my temple.
“What are these for?” I breathe, as I get another waft of her scent.
Sandra begins unbuttoning my shirt. “They’re like the ones you use at FutureCom, but just for us. I can sense some of what you are feeling or thinking, you can sense some of me, and you can… ask the question.”
“Question? What kind of question?” I ask as Sandra removes my shirt, passes it to the bed and starts on my pants.
“The question you always ask but never get an answer to.”
I’m still confused as she has me step out of my pants and briefs, collects them with the shirt and begins to store them in the alcove along with my jacket and shoes.
“I’m seriously confused. Is this some kind of kinky executive airline or the Matrix movie.”
Sandra turns from the alcove and smiles at me “A bit of both I suppose.” As she passes back along the side of the bed, she reaches up to a panel in the ceiling and unspools a length of tubing until its length droops to the floor and then back into her hand.
As she walks smoothly back to me, holding my gaze and tube end in hand, she continues “Everyone has secret wants and desires, David. Questions they want answered. What could it be like “if”? You just have yet to ask yours.”
As Sandra reaches me, she places the tube end in my right hand. Then taking each of my hands in hers, she presses against me, sliding my hands around her waist. As I embrace her, she looks up into my eyes. I see that the blush of her cheeks has deepened and constricted irises punctuate her wide eyes. My own arousal begins again, in recognition of hers.
“Would you be so kind as to plug me in, David?” Sandra asks, quivering slightly in anticipation. Her hands guide mine to a small protrusion on her back I hadn’t noticed before. As I press her into a closer embrace, Sandra pushes her head into my chest and begins to breathe intently. I find the socket in her back with my left hand, prod it gently to determine its orientation and then gently press the tube end into place with my right. Sandra shivers noticeably as it connects with a soft “click”.
Taking a deep breath, Sandra turns in my embrace, pressing her backside against my groin and pulling my arms around her. She begins to ever so slowly scissor her hips, teasing the tip of my rising member between her thighs and cheeks. Guiding my hands in her own, she leads me in gently groping her breast with one hand and sensually massaging her abdomen with the other. The pace builds slowly as the motion and perfume of her hair fills my senses. I forget my thoughts for a moment and begin sucking and biting her neck and shoulder.
Her heat building, Sandra moans between breaths. “Ask the question David. Imagine what you’ve always wanted but could never have. Make me what you’ve always desired. What you’ve lusted for since you were a little boy.”
As her last sentence registers through my hazed senses, my mind and memories race. I remember an immature boy infatuated with the sight of a pregnant woman lounging at a pool. Then a young teen embarrassed by the erection he gets seeing a pregnant upper classmate. Another young man spending far too much time exploring the gritty side of the internet for pictures of pregnant women and stories and videos about growing women’s bellies. A collection of strange B movies that the college girlfriend just couldn’t understand.
A barely perceptible click is followed by an equally subtle hissing sound.
As I blink back into consciousness, Sandra growls in heated satisfaction “Yeeeeesss! That’s it!”
Sandra leads my hand on her abdomen just below her belly button then digs into my hand, pressing my fingers into her supple tummy flesh. There, to my shock and awe I find the sensation of a warm ball… and its growing.
Allowing me only moments to register what is happening, Sandra breaks my embrace, steps forward, and turns to face me. Her face is wide eyed with anticipation and she is biting her lower lip like an excited girl. She pulls my arm, turns me as I pass her, and pushes me onto the bed. Before I can argue, she climbs on the bed and sits on my mid section. As I start to open my mouth, she leans forward, pins my arms near my head with her own, and plunges her tongue into my mouth.
For more than a minute, she ferociously licks, sucks, and bites my tongue and lips, all the while slowly grinding her hips, stroking the top of my now fully erect member with the outside of her womanhood. When she stops and pulls her head away, I growl forward, open mouthed, desperately wanting it to continue. Then she lays on her chest on my own and brings her mouth to my ear. Still slowly raising and lowering her hips, she breaths to me…
“You’ve always wanted this. You’ve always wanted a swollen lover. You’ve always wanted to know what it would be like… what it would feel like. Can you feel it now, David?”
Sandra brings my hands down to my sides, then places them on either side of her slowly expanding belly. As her weight shifts, I feel that her belly is now pressing into mine. I can feel the subtle expansion of her sides in my hands. Sandra breathes a moan, open mouthed, and stares intently into my eyes.
Speechless, I can only look from wide green eye to wide green eye. “Wha… who... How?” I gasp, my lust building father than ever before.
Sandra brings another finger to my lips as she presses herself to a sitting position. As my eyes fall on what my hands have been holding, I find she now has the soft round shape of a woman 4-5 months pregnant and I can feel her subtly growing in my grip.
Not wasting a moment, Sandra lifts herself to her knees, slides back and places her womanhood over my shaft. Then, guiding my member gently inside with her right hand, she slides effortlessly on. The slick walls of her cavity throb against my manhood, sending shivers of pleasure into my core.
Sandra leans forward slightly and brings my hands back to her belly. Then, placing her hands behind her on my knees, she starts a slow and steady orbital motion of her hips. Again, she bites her lip and looks hungrily at me.
I’m gobsmacked. All I can do is alternate between looking back into her hungry eyes and staring in bewilderment at the belly expanding in my hands. With each passing second, Sandra’s belly continues to slowly but perceptibly expand. With each of those seconds, I can feel the weight of her increasing, slowly driving me deeper into her. The growing pressure within her increasing her body’s grip on my manhood and it’s mass increasing the effort she makes to stay in motion.
In another minute, she looks 6 months with child. She’s starting to breath with the effort as her belly begins to bob slightly against the motion of her hips. The throbbing inside her is intense as my mind and body finally agree that I am living my long secret dream and I feel like I might go over the edge any moment. Sandra, almost in a squeal, detects my coming excitement.
“Mmm Hmm!...I know” She gasps between breaths. “But not yet, lover… not yet!” As if receiving her request, I feel a cool wave pass over my body. I can still feel all the glorious sensations of her growing and gyrating body on my own, but my growing need to cum has been cooled and set back. As my eyes show my confusion, Sandra smiles and gently taps the puck on her temple with a finger.
Sandra is now swollen to 8 months in size. She grunts wildly as she presses harder and harder onto my shaft. The pressure, warmth, and throbbing feelings are so intense, I have tunnel vision and can see nothing besides her wildly gyrating form. Still holding the sides of her pendulous belly, I begin to thrust into her, grunting with effort, trying to keep her in motion with help from my arms and hips. Each time she seats fully, she softly croaks. Somehow, I know that the tightness, pressure, and impact are bringing her to the apex of pleasure too, and I double my efforts.
As Sandra passes 9 months in size, we find each other on the edge of the precipice. My face and abdomen crunch. She arches her back and groans. We both scream as we both explode in simultaneous agony.
For several moments, the rhythmic contractions of her womanhood milk the remnants from my core. Neither of us can move as we struggle to regain consciousness and come down.
Finally, Sandra props herself forward until she is resting on her massive belly. Then, supporting herself with one hand on my chest, she reaches behind herself and pulls the cable from the port in her back.
I look at her questioningly and ask, in panting breaths “Don’t you need to … deflate?”
She smiles a relaxed and casual grin. “I think I’d like to stay this way for a bit”.
As I soften, she rolls herself off to my side, coming to rest with her head on my arm and her belly resting against my side. Still glistening and recovering, we lay there for several minutes, both gently rubbing her belly with our hands.
“I still don’t understand... “ I begin.
“I told you, Jarvis.” She answers my unfinished question.
“Yes, but…” I try again.
“Some simple body modifications, lover. Nothing dangerous.”
“And.. can we…”
“As many times as you like.” She purrs, nuzzling my chest.
I think for a moment.
“So then, not to be rude, but are you a…”
“Of course not! I’m a Stewardess, and a damn good one!” She chides me with a playful slap to my chest.
I’m silent for some time. She nuzzles in close to my neck again.
“Ok then, if Jarvis did this to make me happy, then why are you doing this for me?” I finally ask.
“Because, silly, that’s Jarvis’ real genius.” She giggles. “This is my fantasy too.”