Coming Home (Hot for Teacher 11)

Here are some things you should know about me and Mrs. A: As I write this, in May of 2015, she is very heavily pregnant with our son. We haven't exactly announced anything, but we both understand that we are together in a "til death do you part" sort of way, even though I'm in college 1,000 miles away. I call her my wife, and she calls me her husband. We talk every day, and whenever I'm home we always find time for each other, even if I have to sneak out at 3 in the morning to be with her. This is actually what makes our relationship so exciting--I have to sneak out at three in the morning to make love to my wife. But it makes things exciting. Our son was conceived in a wooded area as the sun rose on Thanksgiving. All this is to say we do not have a traditional relationship, but we love each other and we have lots of fun. In the past few days, I returned home for the summer from college. She and her kids had gone to visit relatives over the spring, so I hadn't seen her since winter break. In fact, the last time I saw her in person was when we found out that she was indeed pregnant. I went to her place at the first opportunity. Now she was showing. As I've said before, Mrs A is very attractive and curvy in all the right places-- killer ass, strong thighs, supple breasts. Her pregnancy accentuated those features and as I looked at the large bump, my reptile brain lustily congratulated me for putting her in that condition. We embraced, separated by her firm, rounded abdomen. She led me inside. "Jane and John [not her kids real names] are so excited to meet their new baby brother." She looked into my eyes and smiled. "Someday, soon, we won't have to sneak around. My children--our children--will think of you as their father." I kissed her and told her that I knew this. I held her belly and I marveled that here I am, standing with the woman I love and our unborn child, and all because I ran into her at the pool. Life works in mysterious ways. We went to the bedroom and sat on the bed. "I miss you every day." She said. "I know, part of you is growing inside me, reminding of you every day. But, Greg [not my name], I ache for you." Her legs were trembling and her lips quivered. I stopped them with a kiss and lifted her shirt over her head. She was wearing nothing beneath. Her breasts had swollen from pregnancy and appeared to be in dire need of attention. Her baby bump took up a large degree of space. I slipped her out of her jeans and panties and stripped myself. I ran a finger over her breast. She shuddered as I hit her nipple and cried out. Her nerves seemed to be turned up to 11. I reached a hand between her legs. She was practically leaking. "I've missed your touch," she breathed. I answered by playing with her more. With my mouth and other hand, I worked her tits. She moaned and arched her back. She cried out as my kneading hand caused some milk to escape. "Don't stop," she pleaded. I moved my head between her legs, kneading her tits with my hands, squeezing out small amounts of milk. She was clearly in need. She moaned and yelped and shook with every touch. She kicked and shivered and arched her back and I lost count of orgasms after five. Only 10 minutes had passed. Finally she stopped me. She kissed me and smirked at me. "You know, I've had some very bizarre cravings. But I've missed one thing very, very much." Before I could react, she gave my throbbing cock two pumps, spraying precum everywhere, before swallowing me whole. No foreplay, no licking. She was like a woman possessed. She took me all the way down, slurping and gagging and moaning as if her life depended on it. I was shocked, but let it happen. After a while, I felt the familiar pressure. I cried out but she just kept bobbing and slurping as I exploded in her mouth and down her throat. She swallowed every drop. She came off with a wet pop and licked her lips. "Delicious." "I need to get you pregnant more often," I joked. She smiled devilishly and agreed. And as far as this site is concerned, this is where this particular encounter ends.