“Are you okay?” Ellen asks with a worried look on her face. “Hopefully, I haven’t given you food poisoning with my cooking.”
“No, I’m fine,” I grunt in response. “It’s just that -” I clear my throat and try to make up some non-sexual reason to give her. “It's been a while since I’ve had freshly squeezed orange juice, that’s all.” Ellen looks befuddled, and I know I have to do better “It's the, um, pulp that made me choke a little.”The pulp?! I’m such a dumbass. I need to change the subject right now.
“So how are you feeling?” I ask quickly, gesturing to her pregnant belly. “Any morning sickness or anything?”
Ellen beams at my interest in her condition and seems to immediately forget my clumsy explanation about the wretched juice pulp.
“None at all. I feel great!” she smiles. “And look,” she adds giddily. To my horror she lifts up the material of her shirt to show me her belly. I wince at how soft and inviting her skin looks. The innocent girl points to a very faint coffee-colored line appearing vertically from beneath the waist of her shorts that trails up to her belly button. “This has started showing!”
“What is that?” I ask, puzzled. “Have you always had a line on your stomach?”
“No,” she giggles. “It’s something that pregnant ladies get. It’s called thelinea negraand it looks weird, right?”
I shake my head, still staring.
“It's beautiful,” I rasp, wondering what it would be like to run my tongue down that line before sucking at her clit a bit. Would Ellen like it? Hopefully, it’d help with any pregnancy discomfort, as I’ve heard orgasms can be great for that. But still, I can’t be having these thoughts when my sweet guest is so innocent.
“Beautiful?” Ellen giggles. “Well, I don’t know about that, Ryder. In my opinion, it’s plain weird.”
“I like it,” I rasp. “It makes you look more pregnant, if that’s possible.”
Even though my comment was somewhat nonsensical, Ellen immediately looks up and we lock eyes. I see her cheeks flush, her full lips parting. But she doesn’t glance away and instead moves towards where I’m sitting, her breasts swaying with temptation. My cock throbs like a motherfucker. Oh shit, oh shit. Will she let me kiss her? And maybe even -
But I cut off my thoughts because I’m out of control. This girl is nineteen and pregnant! I can’t be taking advantage of her. Yet, it’s all too much, from the short shorts to the filmy t-shirt showing off her huge tits. What’s a man supposed to do? I’m inches away from pinning her to the kitchen floor and fucking her deep and thorough, like I’ve wanted to do all week. I need to get myself out of this situation stat.
With that, I stand up so suddenly that I knock over the glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Ellen squeaks and quickly throws the dishtowel from the counter onto the table, catching the liquid before it drips onto the floor. As she wipes the hard surface, she looks up at me, concerned.
“Are you okay?” she asks, a small crease of concern appearing on her brow. I swallow and clench my jaw as I watch the enormous swell of her tits move under her shirt while she wipes the table. Fortunately, the sweet girl doesn’t seem to have noticed the hard outline of my cock reaching down the right side of my shorts along my inner thigh.
“Yeah fine,” I say in a terse voice. “I'm going to go shower,” I rasp before turning to leave. Fuck me. Even walking is uncomfortable with my cock so hard, but I force myself not to limp because I don’t want to give away my arousal. Ellen can’t know the state I’m in.
I stalk into to the bathroom and slam the door before yanking on the cold tap. Fuck! My clothes come off in seconds and soon, I’m swearing at myself under jets of ice-cold water. The needles sting my back and shoulders but fuck the pain because I deserve it. Ellen deserves better than this. She deserves better than me.
Trying to get a hold of myself, I lean against the tiles of the shower and take deep breaths. I can’t go on like this. Something needs to change because I can’t live like a caged animal fighting for its life. I force myself to think about my gardens, and the work that awaits me later with a new client. Herbert Mistle is a douche who always tries to nickel and dime my firm, and the thought of that old dirtbag should make my arousal dissipate.
But it’s no use because images of Ellen play over and over in my head. Her huge tits swaying as her nipples poke through her shirt, her big thighs pressing together, her round ass cheeks sticking out of her short shorts, and her pouting lips parting into a sweet “O.” My cock immediately hardens even more, and I groan with lust for my luscious houseguest. Fuck. What do I do now? My life is sheer torture, and there’s a way to settle it all … but it would mean acting on my basest desires.
6
Ellen
Istand stock still, utterly dumbfounded by Ryder’s quick departure. What the heck just happened? My handsome host is usually calm and utterly unflappable. Needless to say, I haven’t been able to break down those walls around him, although I do think I'm making progress. Sometimes he lets down his guard for a few minutes, but as soon as I respond, the barriers come back up.
But still, his behavior just now was completely weird. Was it the juice? Did I actually give him food poisoning? Or maybe he was so grossed out seeing the line on my belly that he left. I know Ryder said he liked it, but sometimes, people are just trying to be kind.
Still, my shoulders slump with defeat. Whatever his reason, it’s clear that I make him jumpy for some reason, despite my best efforts. I try my absolute hardest to make sure I’m not a nuisance by doing the cooking and cleaning. Heck, I’d even help with the gardening if he’d let me, but he says it’s too strenuous for a pregnant woman. Perhaps it’s time to move on. Ryder probably doesn’t have the heart to throw me out, even though he really wants to. I should just leave on my own, and besides, that homeless shelter on the edge of town said I should call back this week to see if any beds have opened. The thought makes me depressed, but obviously, my current living situation isn’t working out.
I sigh as I finish cleaning up the kitchen. Ryder didn’t even eat the breakfast I made him, so I cover it to keep it warm, and then make my way to the garden. I’ll call the shelter from outdoors so that my host doesn’t overhear.
But on my way to the backyard, I pass the bathroom and I can hear the shower going full blast. My handsome host is using enough water to fill a swimming pool, and my heart starts thumping. I move closer, unable to stop myself from envisioning Ryder naked and wet a few feet away. Holy shit. Just on the other side of this door is that masculine form, and then my heart skips a beat when I notice that the door is open. Not just unlocked, nor ajar. It’s open enough so that as I slowly come closer, I can clearly see in without even needing to peek.
I swallow nervously as my heart pounds in my chest. I know I should carry on walking right into the garden. And I should log onto my phone immediately and find a new place to live. Yet I don’t. Instead, my breathing becomes shallow as I lean towards the door and the open space that shouldn’t be there. The rectangle of light beckons invitingly, and I can’t help but look inside.
Slowly, I let my eyes wander in the small space. There’s no steam in the bathroom which is strange because it means that Ryder’s blasting himself with cold water. What a weird thing to do. But then a silent gasp escapes my throat because the lack of steam allows me to see him clearly.All of him.
His naked, hulking frame takes up almost the entire glass stall as he leans against the tiles with one hand. The other hand is covering his brow, like he’s in deep thought about something serious, although what it could be, I have no idea. Cold water cascades over his head and sluices down the powerful muscles of his back before reaching those tense buttocks. They look to be carved of solid wood, and with hungry eyes I eat up his bronzed skin, thick thighs, and ripped calves. But then, another gasp escapes my throat because I see it then: the long cock, hanging heavy between his legs, reaching almost to his knee.
My breath quickens as a familiar fire lights between my legs. My pussy begins to ache, and I know I should turn and go. I should leave this man to the privacy of his ablutions except as I’m staring at the enormity of Ryder’s cock, it starts to harden and rise. OMG! He’s groaning with lust, a deep growl erupting from his throat, as that massive staff pulses and throbs before my eyes. Holy shit! He’s fully aroused now, and it stands up like a veiny flagpole, thick as my forearm, and dripping from the tip.