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My Stepmother's Pregnancies

My Stepmother's Pregnancies

by Ragal2
20 min read
4.52 (34800 views)
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No sexual discussion or activity by younger than 18 years old is mentioned.

........................................................................................................................................

I was barely 17 when it happened. My loving mother died of an end-stage breast cancer. She was sick for over a year, initially receiving radiation and hormone therapy and later chemotherapy. Every new treatment worked initially but failed several months later. And now she succumbed to her lethal disease. During her life, my relationship with her was warm and loving, unlike the more cordial and distant I had with Dad. He was a high ranked industrialist who made a ton of money, but he never divulged or showed his feelings toward me. Now, without her, I felt a huge loss.

My friends joined me during the funeral, updated me on the classes I missed, and attempted to cheer me up by inviting me to play with them. I mostly declined.

I gradually returned back to myself in my senior high. On certain nights, in my dreams, Mom's memory still haunted me, but the longer time passed, the less frequently these dreams appeared. I began playing football with my friends and was good enough to participate in our school team. I was doing well in my studies and was accepted to the University of Chicago, majoring in economics. My 18th birthday party I celebrated with friends and my football teammates. It was fun!

The following weekend, Dad summoned me and said, "Son, I know I was never a role model father for you, but I have an announcement to make. One of my employees by the name of Livia, caught my eye. She is pretty, smart, and funny. I went out with her several of times, and we liked each other. I proposed to her, and she accepted. I want you to meet her. Livia will be here later this evening. Please stay home and be nice to her."

"OK, Dad. Of course I'll be happy to see who is the lady you fancy, but no illusions: For me, she will NEVER replace Mom."

"No worries. She is very young, and I doubt she will try to be your mother."

...

I shaved, showered, and wore clean jeans and a nice shirt. Dad opened the door and introduced us "This is Livia, and this is my son, Mark."

I stared amazingly at her; she was much younger than Dad, very pretty, and with an impressive athletic body. She outclassed Dad by a mile. What did she find in him?...

She extended her small palm to me and mumbled, "Mark, I heard a lot about you. I know you got accepted to the University of Chicago, so you must be a very good student. However, your father neglected to mention how handsome you are."

I smiled, "Livia, I am stunned by YOUR beauty. If you weren't my Dad's future lady, I'd probably dare ask you out."

She grinned, "And a gentleman too..."

Dad laughed, "Livia, are you suggesting he was well educated by his parents?"

'How dare he?' I thought to myself, 'He never lifted a finger to raise me...'

Livia giggled, "Yes Jerry, that is exactly what I meant to say."

We went to the living room. Livia and Dad sat on the sofa while I sat on one of the chairs. I stayed with them for about 20 minutes and found out she was 32 years old (She looked younger), had never married before, and liked flowers and traveling. I told her we shared a love for traveling, and she smiled approvingly. Dad signaled to me it was time for me to leave and let them spend their time without the 3rd wheel. I stood up and joked, "Livia, sorry I have to leave now. I promised a friend I'd help him with his project. However, if at any time you decide to break up with Dad, I hope you give ME a chance." She took Dad's hand in hers, gazed at me, and murmured, "Jerry, I like your son."

...

In the days that followed, Livia frequented our house and helped with shopping, cleaning, cooking, and even laundry. She turned out to be smiley but rather quiet. The more I saw her, the more I became fond of her. Unlike other girls I met, she was not into gossip or hooked on social media. She preferred to do the housework than spend time in idle talk. Most of the time at home, Livia wore a long robe. However, in the two times all 3 of us went out, she had on short dresses that emphasized her attractive figure. I ogled her shamelessly and once even whistled appreciatively. She blushed and whispered, "Mark, please, don't exaggerate."

"Lady, I don't. You are the prettiest woman I know."

"You probably say it to every girl you encounter."

"I never said it to anybody before!"

She looked into my eyes for a moment but did not say a word.

The wedding was a big event. About 200 guests arrived, most of them were my father's colleagues, employees, and customers. I had no idea he knew so many people and suspected at least some of them arrived to keep themselves in his good graces.

My eyes concentrated on Livia. She was gorgeous! Her white dress highlighted her terrific figure without overdoing it or exposing anything. Her face looked radiant. I talked to her twice during the evening. Once to congratulate her and the other while dancing with her. She confessed that the large, mostly unfamiliar crowd scared her to death. I held her in my arms and whispered, "Dear, everything will be over in 2 hours. Be strong, and if you become desperate, find me, and I'll save you." Her eyes thanked me.

After the wedding, Livia moved to our house, into Dad's bedroom. I stayed in my room for now, knowing that when I started college, I'd move to the dorms. I had 4 months until the end of the school year.

On weekdays, Livia returned home first. I arrived about an hour later, and Dad came home very late, usually between 7 and 8 pm. I was happiest during the time Livia and I were together. We played board games, talked about my future professional plans, and about places we wished to visit. She talked in a pleasant, soft tone and frequently smiled. The more time I spent with her, the more fond of her I became.

Later in the evenings, when my father opened the door, most of the time, he looked very tired and hardly talked. He went to bed around 9:30 pm. Livia joined him. I stayed later, and on occasion, I heard them having sex. After the act they talked quietly, but I could hear partial sentences, mainly Livia's, "..honey, it's OK, you are exhausted... don't work so many hours... don't worry, I'll cum next time..."

Three months later, we found out Livia got pregnant. I kissed her cheek, "Darling, am I going to have a brother or sister?" She laughed, "I wanted to be a mama, and I do not know or care about the gender." Dad seemed less enthusiastic, "Having a baby at 50 was not my plan, but hopefully, the baby will be healthy and easy to raise." I hated Dad for saying it in front of Livia: She invested so much for him, and becoming pregnant was not only HER fault, so be nicer about it...

A month later, our summer vacation began. I spent most of the time at home.

Livia's pregnancy was not as easy as we all hoped it would be. She suffered from morning nausea and vomiting, leg edema, and her abdomen began swelling at 4 months. I loved her new look. Her face turned somewhat reddish, and her tits grew disproportionally. As she walked around the house, I often ogled her.

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My father's behavior changed for the worse. He could hardly contain himself, and now and then he had nasty remarks like, "You were so pretty before," or "I loved you much more when you were skinny." One day, I attempted to tell him that it wasn't nice to talk to his pregnant wife like that, and that unlike him, I found her very appealing, but he dismissed me, saying, "I never wanted to have another child. She looks like a cow." I stared at him stunned, and was speechless.

Two days later, Dad announced, "I have to fly to England for a couple of weeks to settle a work-related dispute. I'll notify you before returning." Livia didn't talk, but I saw tears in her eyes. Dad boarded a plane the following day.

After taking him to the airport, I came back home and knocked on Livia's bedroom. I found her crying in bed. She blurted, "Your father hates the baby and hates the way I look. He called me a fat cow and said he'd rather not see me before I regain my former shape. I didn't plan this pregnancy, but before we got married, I told Dad I wanted to have one or more children, and he never rejected the idea. I think he never really loved me. He looked at me as a trophy wife: Young and good-looking who he could be proud of before his friends and employees."

I hugged her tenderly, "I am not sure if you are right about Dad's feelings, but I DO love you."

She grinned through her tears, "Honey, you are the only support I have these days. Thank you. I'll be OK. It's your big vacation; go visit your friends."

"Livia, unless you hate my company, I'd rather be with you."

"Are you kidding? I'd love to have you around, but there is no reason you waste your precious free time on a fat, pregnant cow."

"Livia, unlike Dad, I think you are very pretty these days. The pregnancy suits you."

She smiled, "I recall the first time I met you, you were a gentleman. Back then, I was a guest, and what you said was polite and appropriate. Now that we are family, you can say what you really think. Dad hurt me so much, that I became less sensitive and can take it."

"Livia, are you sure you wish to hear my thoughts about you?"

"Yes, I do."

"I... love you..."

"What are you trying to say?"

"That I fell in love with you. I was and still am jealous of Dad for having you. I find you irresistible."

She glanced into my eyes, "Please, don't do it to me. I looked OK before, but these days, I am fat with huge udders, so stop lying to make me feel better."

"I don't. Livia, before the pregnancy your figure was beautiful, but these days your face is glaring, I find your growing belly attractive, and your tits are larger and sexier."

"What is wrong with you? Is pregnant women your fetish?"

"I think YOU are my fetish, whether before or during your pregnancy."

"You are sweet, but if I were you, I'd try my best to fall for a younger, more normal looking girl. Yesterday, in the shower, I struggled to wash my back, and I bet the fatter I become, it will be even more difficult."

"If you let me, I'll help you in the shower."

"Perhaps it's a good idea. Seeing me naked, you'll realize how ugly I am, and your brain will wake up from its fake love fantasy."

I hugged her one more time, kissed her cheek, and said, "Next time you shower, call me."

...

In the evening, when she cut the vegetables for dinner, I saw that Livia was slightly bent forward. I inquired her about the reason, and she grinned bitterly, "I went to sleep for half an hour, and when I woke up, my back got stuck. I think it's one of the frequent issues during pregnancy. Don't be alarmed; sooner or later it will pass."

I grabbed the knife from her fingers and said, "Go sit at the table. I'll prepare the salad and serve everything you made. Later, call me when you shower."

She smiled, "Yes, boss."

We ate dinner quietly. We chatted less than usual and now and then peeked at each other. My heart was pouring for her. My feelings for Livia went through the roof, but I couldn't talk about it or say more than I said already.

After the dinner, I placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. When I turned around, I noticed her eyes looked at me strangely. I approached her and asked, "What?..."

"... nothing. I was thinking..."

"Is there anything I need to know?"

"Mark, please don't push. Everything is all right."

It was obvious she had something on her mind, but she wasn't ready to talk about it, and I chose to let it go. We sat on the sofa. Her constant minor movements told me her back was still bothering her. I hugged her shoulder and gently pulled her head to lean on my upper chest. She whispered, "Mark, you are an angel."

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I said, "No, I am not, but I hate to see the woman I love suffer."

Livia turned her face to me and gazed into my eyes. I muttered, "Please, if you continue looking at me this way, I won't be able to resist..."

She didn't budge. I sighed and kissed her lips lightly. Livia didn't object, nor did she participate. After the kiss, her head leaned back on my chest. The TV screen continued showing Seinfeld, but my mind was elsewhere. I sniffed the sweet floral aroma of her wavy hair. Livia didn't move, yet her respiration turned faster and shallower. I had the urge to kiss her luscious lip again, but I didn't have the courage.

When the show was over, I helped Livia up. She attempted to walk and then smiled, "I think I am better now. Thank you." She went to her room and closed the door behind her.

I walked to my room and had my laptop on my lap, but like before, in front of the TV, my brain was focused on Livia. I wanted her so much, that my chest hurt...

At 9 pm, I heard Livia calling from the living room, "If you are busy, that's OK. I am about to take a shower."

I jumped up, opened my door, and blurted, "I'll prepare everything for you: Make space for your clean clothes, place your towel, and let the water run so when you are inside, it will be hot."

"Mark, you are spoiling me rotten. I thought your idea was only to soap the area in my back I could not reach by myself."

"Everything I offer is not worth even 1% of the things you have already done for me." She didn't answer.

When everything was ready, I called her into the bathroom and sat in the living room. After 25 minutes I heard Livia, "Can you come now?"

I entered the bathroom and saw her backside through the foggy glass. Her back was soft and feminine. Her wide butt cheeks looked amazing! I opened the glass door and grabbed the soap bar. I waited a little to let my palms warm up and then gently soaped the back of her neck and slowly proceeded south. When I did her back, she moaned.

I said, "Your muscles are stiff. May I massage your back a little while we are here?"

She murmured, "Please..." and leaned forward on the bathroom's wall.

I rubbed her shoulders and back, feeling several knots under her scapulae. I tenderly released them one by one, hearing Livia groaning. Next, I massaged her back from the center to the sides. The soft skin of her back and the erotic massage made me horny, and my penis stiffened in my shorts. Once, when I stretched my hands sideways, two things happened; I touched her sideboobs, and my covered erection hit Livia's crack. She gasped. I stopped in my tracks, not knowing what to do. After a long pause, she mumbled, "Continue, please."

With my pulse rate above 100 per minute, I continued rubbing her back. And then I noticed that each time my fingers approached her side boobs, Livia's torso moved somewhat back toward me, as if encouraging me to reach for her breasts! When it happened the 3rd time, my arousal peaked, and I decided to test it. So when it occurred the fourth time, I let my fingers move forward... My fingers stopped on top of her gigantic tits. I didn't move. I heard Livia whisper, "Yeesss."

I mumbled, "Livia dear, I want you so much."

"Honey, you've seen only my back. You may change your mind once you see the front."

I gingerly turned her around and inspected her body up and down. I loved E V E R Y T H I N G I saw: From her flushed face to her long neck, her massive udders with the large dark areolas, her already bulging tummy, the neatly trimmed brownish bush, and her mildly swollen legs. I kissed her lips and said, "Livia, after seeing all of you, I want you even more."

With tears in her eyes, she smiled at me, "Darling, you are so silly, but wonderfully silly. Now get out of here, and I'll be with you in 10."

I waited for her in her bedroom. Ten minutes later, naked Livia entered the room and inspected my eyes, "Mark, don't you regret your wish to be with me looking like THAT?..."

I didn't bother answering. I removed my shorts, exposing my half mast organ. She smiled and knelt at my legs. Livia touched the spongy head, and her fingers trailed my shaft, causing it to gradually harden further and move upward.

Livia murmured, "Honey, your dick looks ready for action. It's long, thick, and steely-hard. I like it already. If it knows its way inside a woman's womb, I'd rate it 10 out of 10." Next, she parted her full lips and took the helmet into her mouth. Her moist tongue licked my slit, and she milked it lightly. with no further due, her mouth moved on top of my organ, slowly taking it in. When less than an inch remained outside, she began bobbing it. Her technique was terrific: Slow, yet powerful in-and-out motions while sucking it when pulling out. Watching her huge tits swaying before my thighs and her reddish lips working on my member took me to the verge of cumming.

I warned her, "Please, Livia, let's go to bed before I explode."

Her head moved slightly sideways, refusing my plea. Seconds later I ejaculated a large amount of slimy goo down her throat. When I was done, I mumbled, "Why?..."

She licked the remnant spunk from her lips and grinned, "Honey, you were nice to me and proved you deserved it. I am not worried about my own orgasm. I have no doubt within a short time you'll find another excuse to play with my body, and then I'll expect you to satisfy me as well."

The lady was right, of course. An hour later, I joined her in her bedroom, and we had gentle, missionary style sex. I kneaded and tweaked her marvelous orbs and kept my strokes in a low gear, afraid to harm the fetus. However, Livia grabbed my hips, pulled them into her, and said, "Mark, the baby is strong, and fucking is not going to damage it. Do it harder." I intensified my plowing of her pussy and was rewarded by seeing her shuddering before my eyes and whimpering. Since I came an hour earlier, I was better able to control my climax. I accelerated further as Livia's torso jiggled erratically, and she mumbled hardly comprehensible half sentences, "Oh my goood... No, please... Haaarder!... I caan't..." My joy seeing her powerful orgasm aroused me, and soon my own orgasm was pending. I had time to whisper in her ear, "Livia, I love you so much. I am going to cum in your cunt... NOW!..." I dumped my seed deep in her vagina with a growl.

We lay side by side for half an hour, savoring the after-sex bliss. Then she turned on her side, hugged me, and muttered, "Mark, thank you for being who you are. What would I do without you?"

I joked, "I enjoyed it too, but the action was too short. I can barely remember what happened here. I think we'll have to do it again soon, or I'll forget ever being in bed with you."

She nuzzled her face in my chest and murmured, "You are very greedy. Dearie, I think I also love you."

That night, I slept In Livia's bed. We spooned with me lying behind her, hugging her ample tits.

...

In the following days, we could barely keep our hands off each other. I was young, and my testosterone level was constantly high. Livia's long weeks of drought needed extra charging too. At home, I usually wore only shorts, while my lover had on light lingerie, if anything. She liked to tease me, wearing transparent baby dolls, bending down and exposing her melons when serving my food, pretending it was unintentional. On those occasions, my cock was automatically on its way up, getting ready to pounce. I'd stand up, pull her into my arms, French kiss her lips, and drag her for sex.

In the beginning, our sexual encounters were in her bed. I guess I was very cautious due to her pregnancy. However, after googling and finding out that during normal pregnancy, most sexual activities were safe, we started to diversify: We still did it on the bed, but we went for doggy style, cowgirl, and after taking extra precaution, even anal. Within a week, we did it on the soft rug in the living room and the dinner table.

One day at dinner, we got a phone call. It was Dad. He told us he would be back home the next day. I helped Livia change the bedding and rearranged my room for sleeping. As she began preparing Dad's favorite dish, I moved behind her, pressed my erection onto her crack, massaged gently her large dark areolas, and whined, "That is not fair. You are mine now, and I have to give you up for Dad!"

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