Sarah Gilmore

Wes' home was not what I expected. Although it was a two-bedroom home, it was super spacious. The entire main floor was open and airy. The main hall led into a living area that had vaulted ceilings and large windows looking out into a stone garden and woods beyond. The lounge and living space expanded the back of the house and smoothly transitioned into the kitchen. From the Kitchen, there was a door to the garage and an archway to a sparse dining room.

It was clear that he hadn't really had anyone over. The most comfortable places were his living room and bedroom, but even those weren't very decorated. He lived like a low-income bachelor and the thought made me smile. I knew he had money and it was a reassuring thought to think that he lived similarly to how I liked to live.

The upstairs had the two bedrooms, each with their own private bathroom. At the top of the stairs, there was a railing with an overlook to the lounge and kitchen area below. Unlike the guest room that had a small closet, Wes' room had a glorious walk-in closet, but he didn't seem to really use it.

When I had first found it, he walked in and wondered what I was thinking... I could tell by his bashful expression. Then I opened the large armoire in the corner and burst into a fit of laughter, nearly peeing myself. The entire beautiful wooden cabinet had been customized into his arsenal. Guns, ammo, knives, and a variety of other weapons I didn't quite recognize or have names for.

The drawers below had well organized clothes that were folded and sorted by color and pattern. There were varying camouflage patterns and colors as well as patternless-solid black, gray, brown, and olive green. At this, I gave him a teasing glance. He shrugged unphased.

Tactical gear hung next to the wardrobe, including body armor, vests of varying durability and thickness.

Overall, it was everything and nothing like what I had expected. The realization hit me pretty hard. What had I expected? If I really thought about it, I would have expected something simple, maybe a cot on the floor and a plug-in stove or some shit that proved he was more military than civilian...

I didn't even know where we were going. I hadn't had any expectations on where he was taking me because I trusted Wes...

Shit! When...?

When I had made the realization that I had a significant shift in mind-set, I tried... and failed to distance myself from him. Settling in the freshly made bed in his guest room was lonely and I hated it. But I'd spent so many nights before Wes, alone in my bed and had been fine. Right? I'd been alright?

Tears came as I conceded that things in my life were never going to be the same. Wes was a huge part of my life and my comfort now. There was no denying it.

Thoughts swirled in my addled brain until the soft cotton sheets turned to sandpaper and the comforting warmth of my body heat on the bed accentuated the cold around me. Uncomfortable alone, I went to him.

Sprawled out on his bed, barely covered by thick midnight blue sheets that looked black in the lack of light. He didn't have a scrap of clothes on and my mouth watered as my body conveyed its carnal need for him.

Why had I been such a bitch to him before? I needed his nearness as much as I felt him need it. I shouldn't have shut him out. That wasn't fair to him.

Things were changing and I needed to accept them. Unfortunately, my brain, heart, and body were moving on different wavelengths and synchronization was difficult when I felt my prior trauma in varying stages of healing.

It wasn't the time for the darker thoughts, I didn't want to feel the misery, grief, pain, and anger of my past. I wanted to live in the present and that meant the naked, scarred, protector, and father to my unborn children in front of me.

Stripping my clothes, I slid beneath his sheets. The cool caress against my skin didn't feel lonely or bitter like the guest bed. When my leg brushed against his, it was his heat that zipped through me. With a lethargic moan, he pulled me to him. Wrapping his arms around me, he pressed himself to me. My sensitive breasts pushed into his hardened chest and I moaned.

Eyes shooting open, Wes breathed in my name. His look of shock turned lusty instantly and I looked up at him through my lashes, giving him a grin that he took as permission.

Pushing me to my back, he took his place between my legs. Peppering kisses from my mouth down my neck, making special stops to linger on each nipple. Then lower to spread his large hands over my enlarged belly. I couldn't hear what he was saying, but he whispered something in loving tones before kissing the right and then the left side of my belly.

Lost in a momentary fog of admiration for Wes, I gasped in surprise when his mouth descended on my pussy. Directly to my clit with a needy and quick pace that had my back arching from the bed and gasping for oxygen.

He was relentless, starved, incessant, and needy.

There was no stopping to the waves of pleasure as they ripped through me. Moaning loudly as I felt my first gush of pleasure.

Whimpering when his mouth left my clit, but his mouth came straight to mine. Tasting myself in his mouth, I cupped his face and plunged my tongue and tangled with his to taste more of us.

With his body aligned with mine and he slid into my wetness, easily gliding into my pussy with ease. Both of us sighed in contentment of the perfect squeeze and fit of him within me.

Propping himself on one elbow, he looked down at me with a pleasure driven gaze as his muscles rippled and his body moved in and out of mine in an unhurried rhythm.

Dragging my nails down his back, with the flood of growing pressure. I needed him to go faster. In an attempt to hurry his motions, I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled my hips up into his. He didn't relent, giving a low chuckle in my ear as he said, "Your pussy is such a greedy little slut for my cock, baby. I fucking love it."

NEVER in my life did I think being called or having a part of my body described as a cock slut would turn me on so much, but GodDamn if I didn't squeeze his shaft tighter at his dirty words.

His speed picked up by a fraction and I mewled, gasped, and moaned in encouragement.

A sudden shift in our positions made my entire lower stomach do a flip.

Shit! "If you don't make me cum, I may piss the bed."

He laughed and plowed harder. Adding his thumb's pressure to my engorged clit to send me hurtling towards a blinding orgasm.

"Fuck!" I screamed as my body tightened and then burst. Milking his cock with my muscles, forcing his own orgasm. Filling my body with his hot seed.

Pushing me into another shockingly blissful set of tremors from feeling how full I was.

I would have laid there forever, him sank deep within me, but the babies shifted and I ran out of time.

Pushing him off of me, I felt our cum down my thighs as I ran to his bathroom. My bladder felt overly full and I felt relieved as my bare ass met the cool porcelain of the toilet.

Only instead of pissing the Niagra Falls of urine, I sat and dribbled. A sigh of frustration, I sat back, closed my eyes, and tried to relax my still shuddering muscles.

Wes walked into the space of the doorway, still partially hard, and smirking. "You okay, sweetness?"

I let out a humorless laugh and said what I had jokingly said before, "You did this to me."

He barked a laugh and then cleaned himself in the sink.

Closing my eyes again, I focused on releasing the pressure from my bladder, but it wasn't—

The sound of a vibrator resonated through the space and I was peeing...

"What the fu—" I started as I snapped my eyes open to see Wes with an electric toothbrush and white foam dripping down his chin. Looking at me with pinched brows. Questioning my outburst and I laughed. "Please," I waved my hand towards the sink, "Don't let me stop you. As you were."

He smirked and my bladder emptied completely. Finally, I breathed in deeply as I felt the pressure ease.

New pregnancy oddity unlocked: Urinating at the sound of a buzzing electronic toothbrush.

Laughing as I cleaned up and climbed back into bed, I knew things could get more interesting as this progressed.

When I questioned work and getting back to my life in New Orleans, Wes just said that he had it handled and not to worry. I'd never been very good at letting someone else dictate my life. Since becoming independent, I didn't rely on anyone else.

In this matter, I knew I needed to relinquish the control and do some healing before I would be comfortable returning to the daily grind of my life. My biggest obstacle was myself. With my own pressure for personal achievements and work ethic was exhausting.