Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
James stares at me, his blue eyes squinting.
“Why, is she your sister? Your mom? Your cousin?”
I belch rudely, not even bothering to cover my mouth.
“No, fucker. We’re not related. She’s my neighbor.”
James just shrugs then, not even put off by my beer breath.
“Oh ok, no worries then. So what’s the problem? Are you breaking the law? Is she underage? Illegal? The boss’s ex? Lots of nasty scenarios out there.”
I roll my eyes.
“No, she’s pregnant,” I say in a short voice. “And she’s twenty-two, sassy, and sexy as hell.”
James whistles.
“You got her pregnant by accident, my man? Shit, I’m so sorry. Ignore everything I said just now because I was clearly out of line.”
I snort.
“No, it’s not that. The baby’s not mine. She used a sperm donor, so actually she’s going to be a single mom.”
“Okayyyy,” James drawls, shooting me a searching look. “So what seems to be the problem?”
I let out a loud exhale.
“The problem is that I’m having the best sex of my life, but she doesn’t want a relationship. She just wants us to be fuck buddies.”
James nods, still looking serious.
“So what’s the problem?”
“Well, I… I don’t know,” I conclude miserably, my shoulders hunching in on themselves. “I guess I thought I was okay with it at first. In fact, I thought it was the perfect set-up: hot sex with a sassy, filthy woman who always wants it in the ass. It’s what helps control her pregnancy nausea, by the way. But now, I don’t know. It hurts that she only wants me for my body. I don’t know. Fuck,” I say miserably. “I’m such a goddamn mess.”
James whistles, his expression somber.
“Man, you’ve got it bad.”
I nod furiously.
“I know right? I mean, here I am, practically in tears telling you about this situation. I thought only teenaged girls acted like this but fuck! This woman has me twisted in knots.”
My buddy nods.
“So how often do you see her?”
I hiccup a little, either from the beer, the misery, or both.
“Once or twice day. Less if I’m on overnight at the firehouse. But fuck! How the hell did I get into this situation?”
James is silent for a moment, his demeanor calm.
“I don’t think it matters so much how you got into it, as much as what you want from it now. Let me get this straight: you’re having deep anal with a pregnant woman, and at first, it was going to be just that. Deep anal, once or twice a day. But now, you’ve caught feelings and hate yourself for it.”
I pause for a moment, and then sniffle, to my chagrin.
“Pretty much,” I acknowledge. “Who the fuck would have thought? I fucking hate this so much. I mean, I love claiming her ass and being with her. I love eating dinner with her, and she’s a good cook too, so it’s glorious when I’m at her place. But shit, I go home sometimes afterwards and hate myself. I hate the fact that I know she’s glad to see me go, and doesn’t want anything from me except my body.”
“She doesn’t even need your swimmers,” James comments. “She’s already got that and a baby to show for it.”
I slump even further into my chair.
“Thanks,” I manage in a brittle tone. “Real uplifting comment.”
My friend shrugs.
“I’m just saying,” he says. “I mean, a lot of guys would die to be in your position because you know a lot of us are turned on by pregnant women. I love those huge tits, the big bellies, and lush, parted thighs. Plus, I love knowing they can’t get pregnant, and that combined with pretty much non-stop anal would be a dream come true for most men I know.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” I manage in a dry voice. “Great. Yay me.”
But James shrugs again while sipping at his beer.
“But clearly, you’ve caught feelings, and therein lies the rub. You want more from her. What was her name?”
“Freya,” I say in a short tone.
James nods.
“You want an emotional attachment with Freya, but she doesn’t want the same from you. Did she give you a reason?”
I nod miserably.
“We talked a little at first, when this was all starting out. She just said that she’s on a certain path: she chose to be inseminated, she’s going to be a single mother soon, and she wants the freedom to be on her own without the commitment and responsibilities of a relationship.”
“Freya has too much on her plate, in other words,” James muses in a thoughtful voice.
“Yes, I guess,” I grunt tersely. “I suppose so.”
“No, it’s definitely so,” says James, raising his arms above his head in a long stretch. He’s a good-looking motherfucker, and that move gets him a couple looks from ladies all over the room, who giggle and coo at the James Bond-doppelganger. But my friend ignores them. “So what are you going to do?”