Then, the storm starts again and I’m carried away. OMG, I had no idea being an escort could be like this, but then again, what were the chances of meeting Damon Stanton? He’s a billionaire with a taste for heavily pregnant ladies, and fortunately, I’m just the woman to satisfy his dirty desires.
7
Christine
If you’d told me a week ago that losing my job would turn out okay, I would have laughed in your face. If you’d told me that losing my position at Busy Books would be the best thing that’s ever happened to me, I would have laughed in your face and maybe even slapped you silly. But it’s funny how the universe has plans for us that take us to new, unexpected heights just when we least expect it. After all, I have Damon Stanton now, and the experience is amazing.
For the last week, I’ve spent every day with Damon in his penthouse. Not the suite at the Hotel Redwood, but rather his real home on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. It’s a lavish space but to be honest, I hardly even see the outside of his bedroom because he’s got me locked up in there 24/7, subject to his lustful ways.
Yet it’s not just lust. Damon’s also passionate and tender, and he takes his time finding all of my favorite erogenous zones. This man is masterful in bed and always makes sure I’m fully blissed out before taking what he needs for his own pleasure. Then again, it’s pretty clear that he derives pleasure from my pleasure, and that’s an entirely new concept for me. It’s one that I’m loving, and I’ve certainly never experienced this before with another man.
But I want to roll with it because I’m due soon, and then the fairy tale’s going to end. I know that Damon’s intrigued by my pregnancy, but a living, breathing baby is another thing. Newborns are squishy and fun, sure, but they’re also high-maintenance and need to be fed every two hours. Not to mention the fact that my body’s going to be a deflated bag of fluids after delivery, and that I’ll be sore between the legs for god knows how long.
But right now, it’s fine. I’ve been totally focused on Damon, and have even turned down dates with other men. Who knew there was such a fetish for pregnant ladies? But Clarissa merely clucked her tongue with a sassy “I told you so,” and told me to stay safe. I have no idea what she’s talking about because I’m very safe in Damon’s arms. Last I checked, I couldn’t be safer.
But today, we’re going on a real date and I’m excited. Damon’s taking the day off from work, and it’s nice to know that he wants to take me out in public to be seen by the world. I already know he loves it when people refer to me as “Mrs. Stanton,” and this is adding to that. This date isn’t through City Girls, so I feel like we’re actually a real couple.
But now I’ve spent the last two hours rummaging through my limited selection of clothes. My man told me to dress comfortably, but what does that mean? Should I go cute and flirty (but still comfortable) or athletic and sporty (and also comfortable)? Men can be so exasperating sometimes.
Finally, I pull on a pair of maternity blue jeans with a big stretchy band that covers the lower half of my belly. A light purple long-sleeved cotton shirt completes the outfit, and I’ve got a special bra on in case I start leaking, not that Damon would care. He loves drinking my milk while in bed, and I fluff out my curls while giggling in the mirror. There’s a glow on my cheeks and I smirk because it’s not just from pregnancy; it’s also from unbridled, passionate, near constant sex with the billionaire, and I love it.
I brush on some mascara and a clear lip gloss, and then lumber over to the couch to start the battle to get my Converse on. These sneakers might be incredibly comfortable, but there’s nothing easy about putting shoes on when your huge pregnant belly makes it nearly impossible to bend over. I’m not even going to tie them. I leave them semi-tied now so that I can just pull them over the back of my heel and be done with it.
Finally, after what feels like hours, the task is accomplished. My shoes are on and I am dressed. I’m out of breath as I sit up, no doubt panting and heaving like a hippo. Seriously, getting dressed as a pregnant woman should count as an Olympic sport, and I rub my belly.
“You sure like giving your mama a hard time,” I joke with my unborn child. “Don’t worry though, sweetheart. I know you’re worth it.”
At that moment, the buzzer rings and I waddle to the front door, smiling ear to ear. Damon’s downstairs in the lobby, I think to myself. I feel the baby kick and smooth a hand over my belly, chuckling.
“I know you’re excited to see him,” I say to my child. “I am too.”
I lock up and take the elevator downstairs to meet my date. My lover is waiting in the massive foyer of the building, and he smiles as soon as he sees me, his blue eyes lighting up.
“Hey beautiful,” he greets while wrapping an arm around my waist to kiss me gently. Then he brings a hand to gently rest on my belly. “How’s the little stinker today?”
My heart flutters. I love how he always shows an interest in my child, like he really is a doting dad. I smile and then sigh.
“Other than making it a full-fledged workout just to get my shoes on, he’s doing well. I’m pretty sure he’s practicing to be a gymnast the way he’s doing somersaults in there.”
Damon grins, flashing even white teeth.
“That’s good. He’s probably just happy to have you as his mom.”
My heart lurches and I lean up on my toes to give him a quick kiss because it’s the best way I can think to say thank you, at least while we’re in public.
“I appreciate your support,” I breathe. “You always make me feel so good about myself.”
Damon’s blue eyes darken with passion as his arm around my waist tightens.
“Of course, sweetheart. It’s my job to make you feel like a million bucks. But now, let’s go,” he growls while taking my elbow to guide me outside. “I hope the shoes you worked so hard to put on are comfortable.”
I giggle, lumbering along behind him.
“Yes, I made sure to grab my most comfy pair.”
“Good girl.”
“So are we going for a walk?” I ask curiously. “Maybe around Central Park? The park’s lovely this time of year.”