Chicago Pt 02 1

The week before my next Chicago trip, I got a text on the burner that wasn't a belly photo or a silly emoji.

**Can he watch this time? I want him to see.**

I thought about that one for a while, too. I didn't know what she and her husband's relationship really was, and I didn't really care. They were clearly still together. I didn't want anything stupid to happen, though.

**No camera. No touching. No talking from him. He leaves if I say.**

**Yes, Daddy.**

**Ok. Same suite.**

When I arrived there on Sunday evening, she stood proud in the doorway, naked, her swelling belly jutting proudly. "Michael" was sitting, stone-faced in one of the comfortable chairs in the living room area. I was surprised he was also naked, but it looked like he was glued to the soft leather.

I greeted her in the way that had become usual, pleased at the lurch I felt in her belly, seemingly in direct response to my saying and kissing it hello. I followed the ritual by standing and kissing her on the lips, and her kneeling down to kiss and then swallow my cock. I had the discipline not to explode down her throat this time, but I did groan appreciatively and look over at the husband. He looked stricken, hands gripping the armrests tight as his wife took the full length of me down her throat. His cock was hard, jutting out from his lap, and I noted with some surprise that he wasn't poorly endowed at all. A man who knew how to use a cock like that could make most women very happy. But his wife hadn't looked at him from the moment I'd walked in.

She could have easily sucked me to completion, but that wasn't what either of us wanted this time. I dropped my clothes at the suite entrance, and took her by the hand to the couch directly across a big coffee table from the husband's seat. I sat back, cock sticking straight up for her. She chose to straddle me, facing him, acknowledging him for the first time, and I watched his eyes dart back and forth from her face to her belly and lower as she slowly, deliberately impaled herself on me. His cock lurched as she moaned in pleasure. So did mine as more and more of her tight passage hugged me warm and tight. I definitely spared a glance or two at her round ass and splayed labia as she took all of me once again.

She cooed as she settled herself full on me, her weight more substantial than last time. Her balance, and the feel of being inside her also felt subtly different. Perhaps a warm, wet pussy could feel even more feminine when pregnant. She leaned back against my chest and sighed as I placed my hands on her belly.

"Daddy, this is Emily. Emily, this is Daddy."

I was surprised again. She had asked me about names I liked last time, boys and girls, as we lay panting in between fucks. Emily, the name of a sweet, long departed great grandmother was one of the names I'd mentioned. So, last time she hadn't known the sex of the baby, and now she did. The look on her husband's face told me that this was new information to him, too; the name and the sex. She hadn't asked or told him.

"Hello, Emily." I said, rubbing the rounded belly.

She laughed, turned, and kissed me as Emily kicked her own hello into my hand. Then she looked down her body and spoke to her belly, and probably also to the one audience member in the room.

"Now, Mommy's going to get the fucking she's needed for so long from Daddy."

I could not miss the wince in the husband's face when she said those words, but I didn't give him much more attention as she began rocking on me, back and forth, then bouncing a little, up and down, pumping herself on my shaft. She was whispering a little chant to herself - one word every time she sank fully down to my lap.

"...fuck. me. daddy. fuck. me. daddy..."

I don't know if she could have kept doing that until she came, but her words, her rhythm, the squeeze of her tight-as-ever cunt, the extra bounce of the belly carrying my child against my hands, were all too much for me to remain passive. I think she got exactly what she wanted when I shifted under her, tilting, then lowering her onto her side on the couch, taking her top leg in my hand and raising it, bending at the knee to spread her wide - so that I could fuck her good and deep, but also so that the husband could see every thrust.

She groaned at the transition and her chant grew louder over the next few minutes.

"Fuck. Me. Daddy..."

I growled in her ear, "Like this?" and shifted again so I could thrust harder, deeper.

"Yess. Yes! Fuck! Me! Daddy!"

And faster...

"FuckMe! Daddy! Dad-dy! Fuck! Me! FuckMe! Fuck! Fuck! FUCKMEDADDIEEEEEE!"

I loved that scream, and the fist-like squeeze all along and around my shaft of her ecstatic, contracting pussy. I grunted in her ear; a sound she knew could only come just before I blew. Another strangled sound drew my attention to her husband, sitting on the chair, knuckles white on the armrests, cock red and swollen and straining up from his lap. Just as I came, just as my first wad of cum rushed up my cock, a stream of white erupted powerfully from his untouched shaft, arcing through the air and splattering audibly onto the coffee table as my semen pumped deep into his wife.

Shot for shot we matched each other, three spurts, five. His cum making noises on the marble and dribbling down his length, mine filling the belly of the woman I'd claimed. That's when she wailed and clenched again, her orgasm renewed like that first time, but she was staring into her husband's eyes as she milked three, then four more spurts from me, each one drawing a louder, amazed groan from my mouth, and a dry throb from his depleted cock.

Previous times, this would have been the first fuck of many that night. But the atmosphere tonight was different, and, to be honest, that fuck may have even been better than the first one that started everything. After a couple minutes to slow breathing and heart rate, and feel her soft heat tight around me a little longer, I pulled out and stood up. I grabbed a towel from the bar to dry myself, and then dressed, all in silence.

I placed my keycard on the table next to the husband's cooled splashes of wasted spunk. Before leaving, though, I bent over her one more time, placing a kiss on her protruding belly.

"See you, Emily," I said, and smiled as I saw the shift under the skin as the baby moved again. The small smile on "Sara's" blissful face, and the closed eyes, hung head look of defeat on "Michael", sitting limp and forlorn in his chair, were my last sights through the closing door.

---

Honestly, I didn't know if she'd be there the next time. I reserved the suite again, but had received no texts at all during the intervening six weeks. That was fine, since work and other things were busy. There had been no promises, no anything, after all.

Maybe the last time, with the husband present and watching, had broken something. Still, I went up to the rooms, not knowing, to see.

The suite main room lights were off when I entered the penthouse. The winter city light showed through the windows, and I thought that was it at first, but then I saw light from the not-completely-closed bedroom door. She was there, on the bed. Naked, asleep, very pregnant. Beautiful. Her legs were slightly parted, one hand on her belly protectively, possessively, the other draped limp above her head.

I moved quietly, undressing. I was already rigid and hard as I leaned over her fecund belly and spoke softly.

"Hello Emily".

I saw the response as her belly visibly distended under her hand, making her gasp and her eyes flutter open.

She smiled sleepily, happily up at me.

"Hello, Daddy."

There was joy, even relief in her voice. I placed my hands on either side of her mountain of a tummy and kissed it as she moved her hand to let me. She raised that arm over her head to join the first, and stretched, pushing up against my kiss, and parting her legs, wider and wider as I knelt between them.

"Fuck me Daddy. Fuck m-. I covered her mouth with mine as my cock found her cunt, wet and ready and hot as ever.

I felt wetness against my chest as I pushed the last inches into her, and raised my head to see smeared drops of yellow-white on each of her nipples. I'd groped and sucked on her breasts before with some relish, though they were not the same intensely erogenous zones on her that they were on some women. Now, however, I couldn't not suckle the sweet saltiness she was leaking for me. As I took a breast in my hand to guide it to my mouth and suck, she hissed, arched and cried out "Oh my God!" squeezing my cock hard inside. The taste filled my mouth, and I found myself sucking harder as I flexed my hips and fucked into her again.

With the other changes in her body, her breasts had apparently become much more sensitive, and the orgasm that rocked her as I enveloped her second nipple in my mouth and slurped deep was unlike others. Her pussy rippled around my cock and whines and grunts sounded in time to my thrusts and sucks. Her belly pressed up into me as she bucked, and I drank her sweetness down.

Fucking a very pregnant woman is different. Some positions don't work. Some new things do. Nevertheless, she came just as hard, just as many times, if not more, and I filled her with cock and cum again, and again, well past midnight, into the wee hours, both of us telling Emily how good the other felt. She told Emily when "Mommy's going to cum!" and translated for me "That sound means Daddy's about to fill Mommy all up."

The way she looked at me, feeling my hands with hers when I touched her - I liked it. I liked the feel of her belly agaisnt my palms, the softness of her lips, her breasts, her thighs. I liked it all. But I still left before dawn, dragging myself to my own rooms, to rest, shower, and get ready for work.

---

When I got off the road after that circuit, I spent some time thinking. I felt in my gut any next time would be the last - if it would happen at all. So, that week, after calling a few markers and making arrangements, I texted her first for the first time.

**Friday the 31st. Oriole. 6pm.**

I had laughed out loud looking at the calendar. New Year's Eve couldn't have been more poetic if I'd planned it. Still. I really didn't know what the response would be, or if there would be one.

Then, a week later I woke up to a text sent just after 3 in the morning:

**Yes**

and another, sent an hour later:

**-Rachel**

Chicago on New Year's Eve is frigid cold, but people are still moving everywhere, and, unsurprisingly Oriole was packed. Still, marker number one had given me a fine table. I had left a description, and name with the host, and was not disappointed when I heard "This way, Mrs. Black" and saw her approach. Her dress was stunning, beautiful cream and blue and elegant even as it did nothing to conceal her huge belly. She walked slowly, carefully, proud and blushing as heads turned to follow her.

I stood and moved to pull her chair out, kissing her as she sat. Even that brief kiss was charged. I had resolved to make no assumptions about her appetite or diet, and had ordered nothing in advance. She chose light fare, and a virgin cocktail, laughing at the name. We talked, for the first time actually talking about our lives, ourselves. I learned about her marriage with Tom, whom she obviously deeply loved. She remained committed to him, and faithful, in her own way - a way that fit me, us, in her life and enabled her to be here with me, tonight. She learned my name, but didn't use it then - or ever. I could almost see her wrapping it up as a keepsake in her mind.

We sat, and ate, and talked for hours, like friends, like a couple out on the town, and when it was time to go, I helped her up and took her arm in mine, strolling out to more looks from diners. They may or may not have guessed what was going to be happening soon, but the rose color of Rachel's cheeks started more than one whisper as we passed.

Rachel's coat was Chicago warm, but quickly we were in the limo I'd reserved, and winding through the streets. We sat together in the back, the barrier to the driver's side closed and opaque, and I pushed her coat open, and kissed her belly through the fabric of her dress.

"Hello Emily, how have you been?"

I smiled as the baby moved under my hands, against my lips. Rachel hummed with pleasure.

I looked up to see Rachel's face beaming, a tear in her eye.

"She's almost ready," she said.

I rested my head there for the few-minute drive, talking to Emily, telling her Very Important Secrets as Rachel's fingers stroked my head, thinking I could smell bith her arousal and her milk though her dress.

We arrived at the destination; a high-rise off the lake. The calling in of marker two hand given me the penthouse for the week, fully stocked. The suite was open plan, floor to ceiling glass walls, but with no other nearby building tall enough to see into them.

I took her coat, and Rachel sighed at the view - interior and exterior - as she walked in. I watched her, until she turned to see my appreciation, and my arousal. She gave me a wicked grin, reached up and undid a single clasp behind the neck of her dress, and pulled. Like a waterfall, the whole demure piece fell from her body, revealing her naked form. She'd been undergarment-less underneath it the whole evening. I don't know how she'd managed it, or what fabric magic had been at work under that dress, because her nipples were smeared with milk, and her inner thighs glistened with wetness under her enormous belly.

With the bright cityscape behind her, she reached for me.

"Come here, Daddy," She said.

I took her into my arms, and held her close, her head buried in my chest. Emily inside her moved, and I felt it against me. After a good long while of that, she turned so that her mouth was at my ear.

"Fuck. Me." It was a whisper, but one filled with the most carnal lust, the most desperate need.

I fucked Rachel. I picked her up, carried her to the giant bed, laid her on it, and fucked her. I sucked and drank from one breast, and then the other and fucked her. I moved her to hands and knees and fucked her; laid her on her side and fucked her. I fucked her through the countdown happening somewhere in the city, through the New Year's fireworks, literally fucking her into Next Year. I ate her pregnant, creamy pussy until she screamed, and then fucked her again. I told Emily I loved fucking her Mommy and always would. I lost count of how many times Rachel had cum, even how many times I had, before we essentially lost consciousness together, spooned on the bed, my cock still throbbing inside her.

I didn't leave in the night or morning this time. We had the whole weekend in front of us. She got up in the night, wiggling out of my arms to use the bathroom, but came back and wiggled back in, parting her legs, reaching for my cock and stroking it until it responded enough for her to guide it back into her and squirm until I was all the way in, sighing and settling only then. I woke up to the bright morning still inside her, barely hard, but we'd been pressed together firmly, and had moved little.

My cock stirred, hardening, thickening inside Rachel and she moaned in her sleep. Emily moved, against my palm and I rubbed the ripe belly.

"Daddy's going to fuck Mommy now," I told her.

New Year's day was one of the coldest of the decade, but the penthouse had good heat. Rachel never donned a scrap of clothing on Saturday, or on Sunday, and neither did I. The apartment was our own little world for two days. We made meals for each other, we fed each other, we fucked each other. We laughed, cuddled, talked, fucked more. That weekend we made love, too.

She could have stayed in the penthouse the week if she wanted. I could delay, even cancel the first site visit of the year. She said no. Monday morning was time to go. She would go home to Tom, I would go to work, after one last night.

Deep inside her, I pressed up against the thin barrier between me and our child. I told Rachael I'd fucked my baby into her as her husband watched, and was glad I did. She told me she'd wanted me to, more than anything in the world. I told her that her womb, her belly was mine, and she told me it always and ever would be.

I told her to do right by my child, and she promised she would. I kissed her, told her I was about to cum, told her I loved her, and meant it. The orgasm she gave me then was the most beautiful gift I've ever received.

---

Rachel's number was silent for six weeks, then 12. I had expected it, of course, but still, it felt... quiet, in Chicago.

It wasn't so bad, though.

Wednesday nights after Chicago was St. Louis, and the following Sundays belonged to Denver, where I had met "Chrissy" three visits ago at a post site-visit bar. She had dumped her boyfriend by last visit, and found a new one who thought her little growing belly bump, and its origin story, were a turn on.

**u wil 2 when u c it!**

she'd texted to the number I had that was only for her.

**I'm sure I will** I replied

**Mayb he can cum c? cum watch???**

**Next time**

---

In early April, in Memphis, I got a picture on Rachel's line. A baby. A gorgeous cinnamon baby girl.

**Daddy, Meet Emily.**

I didn't stop smiling the whole visit, and when I made it to New Orleans I fucked poor Grace to exhaustion. Grace had been certain she was beyond her childbearing years, but she had messaged me the discovery she'd been very wrong about that just days ago. She was distressed, and I did my best to soothe her, reassure her. I told her it was always, always 100% her choice what she wanted to do. Then I fucked her brains out. Still shaking in my arms, she told me she'd decided. Her 20 year old son was going to have a younger sibling.

---

Mid August, 2 am, a text on a long silent number.

**Daddy...**

3am

**Emily needs a sister. Or a brother. Please**

4am

**Please**

At 5am I replied;

** Saturday the 9th. Our hotel penthouse. There will be a key for Mrs. Rachel Black.**

5:02

**We love you, Daddy.**

5:04

**I love you, too.**

It was no lie. I love all my children, and their mothers.