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NNTP-Posting-Date: Fri, 26 Jan 2007 14:35:02 -0600
From: Nick Scipio <nick@nickscipio.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Nereids" by Nick Scipio - Ch 3 (MF, preg, oral)
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Date: Fri, 26 Jan 2007 19:10:01 -0500
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Author: Nick Scipio
Title: Nereids
Part: Chapter 03
Universe: Summer Camp
Summary: Jack MacLean is happy with married life, but it's the
Swinging Sixties and he wants more. His wife does too,
and they have their eye on her new friend, Beth Hughes.
But Jack and Beth's husband will soon be fighting a war
in the skies over Vietnam. When they return, everything
will change.
Keywords: MF, preg, oral
Revision: 1.0
Word Count: 7,595
Web Site: http://www.nickscipio.com/summercamp/nereids/
FTP Site: ftp://ftp.nickscipio.com/summercamp/nereids/
Discussion Forum: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Scipio_Forum/

*****************************************************************
                        STANDARD DISCLAIMER

This story is intended as ADULT entertainment. It contains
material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are
offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT
read any further.

This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events
portrayed in it are fictional, and any resemblance to real people
or incidents is purely coincidental. The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities described.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author. It may be freely
distributed with this disclaimer attached.

Copyright (c) 2007 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************

Nereids
A Summer Camp Story
by Nick Scipio

CHAPTER THREE

"Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?" Susan asked.

Beth looked up from drying the dishes and paused for a moment. At
eight months pregnant, she didn't do _anything_ quickly. Nor did
she do anything without feeling awkward and ponderous. A selfish
part of her was ready for the baby to be _born_ already.

"I thought we could have dinner at our house... if you don't have
plans, that is," Susan continued. "The guys probably don't care
where we eat, as long as they're fed."

"And as long as they get to watch their football," Beth added.
Then she smiled to herself. She hadn't seen David in almost three
weeks, and _football_ was the last thing on her mind. She wanted
to see him--to have sex with him, actually--and she didn't really
care what _he_ wanted to do. _I'm as bad as a man,_ she thought
wryly, stifling a laugh.

"Well, as long as they get sex, food, and football, in that
order," Susan said, her thoughts mirroring Beth's.

"You got _that_ right. We should probably feel... used." She rolled
her eyes for effect, but then smirked. "I just can't bring myself
to complain, though. It's been a while..."

Susan laughed. "I know what you mean. I've been taking a lot of
baths lately."

"Forget baths," Beth said, surprising herself. "I was in the
grocery store the other day and the _produce_ started looking
good."

"I'm sure cucumber sales skyrocket when the carrier sails," Susan
added.

The women shared a snicker.

_My, how close we've grown,_ Beth reflected. _Susan knows more
about my nonexistent sex life than my sister does. But it won't
be nonexistent for long,_ she added, mentally counting the days.

"Back to my original question...," Susan said. "Do you have plans
for Thanksgiving?"

Beth shook her head. "My parents are spending it with my sister
and her husband. And Hank's in Japan..." She fought not to frown.
"He has a girlfriend there."

"Oh?"

"He's one of those 'girl in every port' kind of guys."

Susan's expression turned curious.

"He's not a bad guy..." She shook her head as she trailed off. "I
guess he's not ready to settle down yet. And he's still... sowing
his wild oats." A strange expression crossed Susan's face, but it
was gone before Beth could say anything else. "Anyway," she
continued after a moment, "no, we don't have Thanksgiving plans."

"Then would you all like to have dinner at our house?" Susan
asked, the odd look still in her eye. "My father's coming out,
and I think you'd like him. Besides, the more, the merrier. You
know?"

"That's very kind of you," Beth said, mentally scowling at her
formality. Something about Susan's attitude had changed, and
until she understood what it was, she was wary. She didn't _want_
to be, but--

"I'm sorry," Susan said, reading her perfectly. "You didn't do
anything. It's something you said."

Beth arched an eyebrow in question.

"Oh, it's not a problem," Susan explained. "It just... made me
think about something."

"What was it? What I said, I mean."

"'Sowing his wild oats.'"

Beth fought not to frown. Unsuccessfully. _She_ could criticize
her brother, but if Susan thought she could--

"Sorry, I don't mean your brother," Susan said, exhaling in
frustration. Quickly: "Jack used to say the same thing. He said
he married me before he got a chance to sow his wild oats. It
used to bother me. But now..."

"Now...?"

Susan shrugged. "Now... now I'm not so sure."

Beth felt her forehead crease.

"Oh, I don't want Jack to have a girl in every port. He _is_ a
married man, after all."

"That hasn't stopped a lot of married men," Beth said, more
sharply than she wanted to. She trusted David, but a small part
of her wondered if he didn't look at other women the way many men
did. Navy pilots were often away from their wives and
girlfriends, and separation didn't put a damper on their sex
drives. If anything, the opportunity for "a little something on
the side" made it all the more appealing for many men. David had
never cheated on her, but...

"But I wonder how I'd feel if he _was_ having sex with another
woman," Susan finished, drawing Beth from her cynical musing.
"Just sex, I mean. You know, for fun."

"What do you mean 'for fun'?" Beth asked, curiosity welling
within her.

"I mean...," Susan said, letting the pause drag out. "I don't know
what I mean," she said at last. "I was just thinking out loud.
Rambling, more like it. Ignore me."

Beth pursed her lips in frustration. Not only was her curiosity
unsatisfied, but she felt a sudden wave of sympathy for the other
woman. Susan was obviously struggling with something, and while
Beth might not be a gossip, she _did_ want to know what it was.
She was polite enough to change the subject, though, and was
happy to see the look of relief on Susan's face.

Unfortunately, when Susan finally said goodbye and went home to
meet her sons after school, Beth was more curious than ever.

**

Jack pulled into the driveway and immediately killed the
Corvette's engine. He popped the clutch as it came to a stop, and
sat silently for a moment. The engine clicked and pinged as it
began to cool.

The flight from Yuma to Lemoore hadn't been long, but after three
hard weeks of training--with up to four sorties a day--he
practically luxuriated in the comfort of the Corvette's bucket
seat. An ejection seat might save his life one day, but it
certainly wasn't built with comfort in mind.

After a moment he got out, pulling his suitcase from the
passenger seat as he did. He hadn't even donned his leather
jacket for the drive home, and the cool November air made him
shiver reflexively. The porch light glowed warmly as he rounded
the car and strode toward the front door. It opened before he
reached it, and Susan smiled at him, the best sight he'd seen in
weeks.

"Hi, babe," he said, sweeping her into his arms as he dropped the
suitcase in the foyer. He picked her up and spun her around,
their lips already locked in a kiss.

"Welcome home," she said when they finally separated and he set
her down.

"Where are the boys? And your dad?"

"He took them to dinner and a movie."

"So we've got the house to ourselves?"

She nodded.

"Mmm, good," he said, kissing her again, his hands already
cupping her ass. He used the convenient handhold to lift her into
the air and carry her toward their bedroom.

She laughed and hugged him tight, her body deliciously soft
against him.

"So," he wondered aloud, "did you have a good three weeks with
Beth?"

Susan rolled her eyes. "Is that all you ever think about?"

"Hey," he said lightheartedly, "I haven't had any nookie in three
weeks. I'm allowed to think about it every once in a while."

"Oh, all right." She looked into his eyes and smiled. "I guess
I'll let you off the hook. _This_ time."

"Thanks," he said dryly. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and
began unlacing his flight boots. When he kicked them off, he
pulled her close again, his eyes at the level of her breasts.
"So, you were telling me about you and Beth."

"I was _not_," she shot back, fighting not to smile. A moment
later she shook her head in exasperation and amazement. "You're
not going to believe what I did."

"What?"

"I almost came right out and asked her."

His eyebrows flew up. "You did?" He was intrigued, but he was
also anxious to feel her body against him, so he scooted toward
the center of the bed, pulling her along.

She crawled after him and then straddled his hips, her dress
riding higher, exposing a tantalizing expanse of her legs. He
pulled her closer still and rested his hands on her thighs.

She fought off distraction and continued her story. "We were
talking about sowing wild oats. Her brother evidently has a girl
in every port."

"He's an F-4 driver, right?"

She nodded. "When she said that, I thought it might be the right
time to talk to her about... you know."

_Swinging,_ Jack supplied. He arched an eyebrow in silent
question.

Susan grimaced.

"What?" he finally asked.

"I... I chickened out," she said at last, sighing in disgust. "I
_wanted_ to tell her about us," she added, "but I just couldn't
work up the nerve."

He chuckled.

Susan knew him well enough not to take offense, but she frowned
nonetheless. "_You_ try seducing a woman for the first time."

"I managed it just fine, thank you."

"Yes, but you're a man. I've never had to do this before."

"You've had sex with a woman before," he said matter-of-factly,
his eyebrows lowered in puzzlement. She _had_ had sex with a
woman before--a girl, actually, but she was a girl herself at the
time, barely sixteen.

Growing up at a nudist camp had provided Susan with a wealth of
opportunities, fueling her young sex drive.

Her past adventures were another reason Jack wanted to get into
swinging; he wanted to see his wife with another woman. He'd
imagined it many times--a jerk-off fantasy for when he had to
take care of himself--but he wanted to see it for real. He wanted
to taste another woman on his wife's lips. He wanted--

"Are you even paying attention?" Susan asked, wrenching him from
his fantasy.

He pursed his lips, laughing at _himself_ as much as her
exasperation.

"I'm trying to tell you something serious and you're imagining me
in bed with someone else, aren't you?"

He tried to look innocent, but she saw right through him.

"A man or a woman this time?"

"A woman." To distract her from a pointed reply, he ran his hands
up her thighs, his thumbs delving between them, teasing her
panty-covered crotch.

"Oh, no fair," she gasped.

Grinning, he pulled his hands back, far enough to remove the
distraction, but still within striking distance. "I'm sorry," he
said, more or less contrite. "You were saying..."

"I was saying," she said, gazing at him levelly, "that it's not
very easy to seduce a woman you hardly know."

"Hardly know?" he scoffed. "You've spent more time with her in
the past two months than any of your other friends. You even said
she's like the sister you never had. So how can you 'hardly know'
her?"

Susan opened her mouth but then closed it uncertainly. Finally,
she frowned. "Maybe I'm not as confident as I thought I was."

He arched an eyebrow.

"I _thought_ she might be interested in swinging, but then..."

"Then...?"

"Then...," she began, only to trail off again. After a moment she
rolled her eyes and sighed. "This isn't so easy when everyone's
wearing clothes."

He chuckled.

"It's true," she said, almost petulantly. "It's a lot easier to
'accidentally' rub against someone when you're swimming together.
Or to grab the wrong body part when you're play-wrestling."

Jack's imagination erupted with visions of Susan and Beth "play-
wrestling," and his head swam as most of the blood rushed to his
dick.

"You're doing it again," Susan warned.

"Sorry."

"No you're not."

He wagged his head side-to-side, equivocating. Then he grinned.
"You should see yourself in my head, though."

She tried to look indifferent.

"Trust me. Would I lie to you?"

"No, but you'd distract me with my own fantasies, just so you
didn't have to admit that you weren't paying attention. This is
_serious_, Jack. If I'm wrong about Beth and David, it could have
serious consequences."

"I don't think you're wrong about them," he said, sobering for
the first time since he pulled her onto the bed. "David's..."

"David's what?"

"He's... shy," Jack said. "No, 'shy' isn't the right word. He's...
he's trying not to screw up. I can't say I blame him, either. You
remember how I was when I first joined a fleet squadron."

She nodded.

Jack had always projected a cocky, self-assured attitude, but
Susan knew his heart. He had never let anyone else see that side
of him, and a detached part of him realized that it made their
marriage stronger.

He saw a lot of himself in David, especially since he knew to
look for the hidden signs. He felt protective of him, too. Maybe
the younger man _was_ the brother he'd never had. He pondered
that for a moment, recalling himself at a younger age. He smiled
at the thought, amazed that he'd managed to make it as far as he
had.

When his thoughts returned to David, he smiled again, wider and
without any amazement. In the weeks since they joined the
squadron, David had come a long way, not only in ability, but in
confidence. He didn't have the same aggressive personality Jack
did, but he came close.

But if David didn't share Jack's aggressiveness, he more than
made up for the lack with his libido. Chasing tail was a favorite
pastime of pilots, especially at Yuma, and most of them flirted
with the local girls--it was practically _de rigueur_. The Old
Man and Commander Featherston were the exceptions. Scarlatti was
faithful to his wife, and Featherston was both dour _and_ a
devout Catholic.

The bachelors like Keith Olin and Ed Cousins were bold and
aggressive, and often went home with the girls, or to the motel
across the street from the pilots' favorite watering hole. A few
of the married men--the kind who measured their fidelity by their
proximity to their wives--did the same.

The majority of the men were like Jack and David, though. They
enjoyed the chase, but weren't all that serious about actually
_catching_ any of the local girls. Nonetheless, Jack had been
amazed at David's transformation. After a couple of beers, he
forgot to be nervous, and his boyish charm was almost
irresistible.

Only "Puppy" Weigand attracted more female attention, and that
was simply because his good looks and innocent schoolboy
personality drew them like bees to honey. Still, David had
declined more than his fair share of opportunities.

"He isn't a prude, though," Jack said, resuming the conversation.
"He might not be interested in sharing his wife, but then again..."

"Then again...?"

He shrugged by way of answer. He paused for a moment, gathering
his thoughts. She knew him well enough to bide her time.

"Do you think...?" she finally asked, reading the change in his
expression.

"I think they _could_ be the right couple," Jack said, choosing
his words carefully. He normally didn't beat around the bush, but
with something as serious as his career, he erred on the side of
caution. A moment later, he laughed at himself.

_What?_ Susan asked with the tilt of her head.

"I was just thinking," he said, still semi-distracted. "I'm
willing to go to Vietnam... no, I'm _eager_ to go to Vietnam--a
real war, a shooting war--but I'm not willing to jeopardize my
career just because I'm horny."

She arched an eyebrow for him to continue, although she clearly
understood what he'd meant.

He laughed again, the sound full of irony. "I'm willing to be
shot at, but I'm scared to death of a dishonorable discharge."

She smiled and caressed his face.

He didn't like to think that his honor was more important than
his life--especially not with a wife and two sons he loved more
than anything in the world--but he couldn't get the thought out
of his head. "Am I crazy?" he finally asked.

Susan shook her head, her eyes misty. "No," she said at last.
Then she smiled tenderly. "You're just... you."

He smiled in reply, emotion welling unexpectedly. After a moment
he swallowed hard. "This is something I've got to do," he said
softly. He didn't have to say "Vietnam." She knew. He could see
it in her eyes. "I... I can't explain it. I... I..." He clenched his
fists in a mixture of frustration and impatience.

She shushed him quietly, her hand warm on his face. "I know," she
whispered. "I don't want you to go, but..."

He looked up, his eyes stinging.

"But it's something you have to do," she said, her voice still
soft and soothing. "You wouldn't be you if you didn't."

He swallowed again, his mouth suddenly dry.

"And I wouldn't love you if you weren't."

He smiled and pulled her close for a kiss. Their lips met, softly
at first, but with growing urgency.

He didn't bother taking her dress off, and he ripped her panties
in the rush to thrust himself into her. She didn't seem to mind,
and clung to him almost desperately, rocking against him, her
pussy hot and wet.

When he came, he arched his back, his hands on her hips,
steadying them both as he squirted deep within her. After a long,
low groan, he opened his eyes. She was panting, her nostrils
flaring with each breath.

As the aftereffects of his orgasm wore off, he began unfastening
her dress, slowly, deliberately. His dick softened and he felt it
slip free. She moaned, but arched her back as his fingers played
across her bra-covered nipples. A moment later he reached into
her dress, his hands gliding along her sides toward her back.

She scooted forward, the skirt of her dress hiding her crotch.
She kissed him, passion and heat mounting again. They took off
their clothes slowly, kissing and fondling as they did. When he
was hard again--after what seemed like an eternity--she reached
between them and gripped his resurgent shaft.

With a smoldering look, she swung her leg over his hips and set
the tip of his manhood at her opening. They made love slowly,
their hands roaming as she worked herself toward her own climax.
After his mad rush and release, Jack was content to lie back and
relax as she pleasured herself, using his dick as her instrument
of choice.

He watched her silently. Her eyes were closed, her lips pursed in
concentration. Tiny beads of sweat dotted her upper lip and
forehead, darkening her hair where the strands clung to her face.
Her breasts heaved with her breathing and the motion of her hips,
her nipples stiff and plump.

He cupped her breasts, teasing them gently. Her stomach quivered,
her climax imminent. He tugged and twisted her nipples, driving
her higher. He could feel her insides clenching as well,
fluttering with the first twinges of her orgasm.

When she came, she tensed up, silent and red-faced as she held
her breath. She let it out with an explosive gasp, falling
forward, her breasts flattening against his chest. A sheen of
sweat coated her body, and they slid together easily.

He rolled her to her back, his dick still hard within her. He
absently glanced at the bedside clock--his father-in-law and the
boys should be home soon--and began to move his hips. His cock
slid into her, spreading her open and plunging deep.

She didn't react for several long moments, lying nearly comatose,
her hands resting lightly on his arms as he held himself above
her. His dog tags dangled between them, swaying with each thrust.
With an impatient gesture he flung them around his neck. They
landed on his back and stayed there, stuck to his skin with
sweat.

Susan opened her eyes. They were unfocused at first, but quickly
filled with lust as he pounded into her. Her hips rose to meet
his, filling the room with slapping sounds as their sweaty bodies
met. He levered his hips up and hers fell away, only to rise
again for his next thrust.

Their bodies ground together and she grimaced in pleasure. She
was feeling the aftershocks from her orgasm--he could feel it in
her pussy as well as see it on her face. He quickened his
thrusts, and her breasts bounced with an erotic rhythm, nipples
stiff with arousal.

Finally, he buried himself as deep as he could and felt the first
surge of release. He didn't come as much as the first time, but
the pulsing sensations went on long after the actual orgasm.

When he finally opened his eyes, he gazed down at her. A welter
of emotions--love, anxiety, anticipation, fear, and more--passed
between them silently. They didn't talk about Vietnam. They
didn't talk about David and Beth. They didn't talk about anything
at all.

Not with words, at least.

**

"So there we were," Jack said, sweeping his gaze over his fellow
pilots.

Most of them were holding beers, and all of them were grinning
from ear to ear. All but David. He simply looked embarrassed.
They were at a farewell cookout at Don Scarlatti's house, the
families' last chance to get together before the squadron's
deployment.

Jack's hands imitated two planes in flight. "We rolled into the
bombing pattern right after takeoff," he continued. "You know how
quick some of those sorties are," he added, playing to his
audience. "Well, David was on my wing, about two hundred yards
back."

Several of the men knew what was coming, since they'd been there
when it happened, but they still hung on Jack's every word.

"I rolled in hot," he said, his left hand imitating his plane,
"and launched a pair rockets. Right on target, I might add."

The others laughed at his boast.

"When I pulled up, I heard David roll in." He imitated the radio
call, "'Warhorse Five Two is in hot.' I looked back to see how he
did..." A pause to let his listeners' anticipation build: "And the
next thing I knew, all hell broke loose."

David hung his head, and several men grinned at his
embarrassment. A group of wives were talking by the sliding glass
door, and Jack saw Beth look up, anxious for her husband. Susan
caught his eye as well, and shot him a look of silent rebuke. He
didn't _quite_ ignore her, but he continued his story
nonetheless.

"Someone started shouting over the radio," he said.

"That was _me_," Don Scarlatti said. "I didn't want you to get
hit."

"Thanks for looking out for me, Skipper," Jack said, grinning.

"Forget you," Scarlatti said. "Hotshot pilots are a dime a dozen.
I didn't want to fill out the paperwork to requisition a new
plane."

"Thanks," Jack said dryly, unfazed.

The men around him chuckled.

"So there I was," he continued, his left hand climbing out after
the firing run, "when this rocket goes flying under my wing. I'm
thinking, 'How in God's name did David miss the _ground?!_'"

The other pilots howled with laughter.

"You're lucky he didn't kill you," someone called from the back
of the crowd.

"Only the good die young, Mr. Schmidt," Frank Waulk said, to
catcalls of agreement.

"When I saw the second smoke trail, _closer_," Jack continued, "I
started getting nervous."

"We'll have to ask your crew chief about your missing seat
cushion," someone teased.

Jack grinned, but continued. "The _next_ rocket flew over my
canopy, not thirty yards away."

"That's when he started shooting at Skipper," another man said.

"I couldn't stop," David finally said, speaking up for the first
time since Jack had begun the story. "They were all gonna fire
whether I liked it or not, so I pulled my nose away from my
leader."

"Yeah, you shoulda gone after the Old Man from the start!"

"I heard that, Jerry," the commander said, pretending to glare at
Schmidt. Then Scarlatti grinned as he stepped close and put his
arm around David's shoulder. "I thought young Mr. Hughes was
going to blow me out of the sky, but I knew he only had a couple
of rockets left."

David smiled ruefully.

Scarlatti raised his beer in mock-salute to Frank Waulk. "Only
the good die young..."

"Then your time's coming, Skip," Jerry said.

"I'm not _that_ old."

"Then why do we call you the Old Man?" someone else called.

"Respect for your elders," Scarlatti said, a seasoned veteran of
pilots' banter. With a self-satisfied grin, he arched an eyebrow
at Jack, silently asking to pick up the story.

_Skipper's prerogative,_ Jack thought with only a trace of
resentment. He'd been in the Navy long enough to know when to let
the Old Man have his due, though, so he smiled and made a by-all-
means gesture.

"I dodged the first rocket," Scarlatti said, "but I thought he
had me dead to rights with the second."

David looked like he wanted to slink away.

"Fortunately, he got his nose pointed away from me," Scarlatti
said, "and the last rocket flew downrange." He grinned. "The
Range Control Officer had a few choice words, fit to blister
paint, but I managed to smooth things over with him."

"Lucky for you, Hughes!"

David grinned hesitantly.

"So all's well that ends well," Scarlatti said. "But, Mr.
Hughes," he added, glancing meaningfully at David, "keep an eye
on your fire selector the next time I'm in the vicinity."

The pilots roared with laughter.

When they quieted, Scarlatti continued, playing to the crowd. "I
think now would be a good time to officially christen Mr. Hughes
with his new callsign."

Jack stifled a laugh. He knew what was coming, along with every
other member of the squadron. Jerry Schmidt had coined the new
nickname after David's mishap, and it had stuck. David was no
longer "Gator." Instead...

"Gentlemen," Scarlatti said, raising his beer, "Mr. Hughes has
demonstrated a reckless affection for Zuni rockets. One might
even call him a maniac." He grinned impudently. "So from this day
forward, he'll be known as..."

Scarlatti let the words hang in the air, glancing at the men
around him, the men he'd soon lead into battle. At his nod, the
pilots shouted in unison.

"_Zuniac!_"

David tried to dodge the men teasing him, but there were too
many. They clapped him on the back and tousled his close-cropped
hair.

Jack smiled to himself. He might've been new to the squadron, but
he was an experienced officer who'd demonstrated his abilities in
the air and on the ground. But David had been an unknown
quantity, a potential weak link. After his near-disaster with the
Zuni rockets, he'd redoubled his efforts on the bombing range,
and had improved more than any other pilot.

Even more to his credit, he hadn't tried to blame the accident on
an equipment malfunction. The other men in the squadron respected
that, and grew to like him because of his quiet determination to
improve his bombing skills. With the new nickname, David had just
become one of them.

_One of_ us_,_ Jack silently corrected. _We happy few..._

**

"I think it's a nice callsign," Beth said on the drive home.

David tried to glare at her, but he couldn't bring himself to do
it. Instead, he simply looked sullen.

"It's better than 'Don't Point That Thing At Me,'" she said,
hiding a grin.

_That_ got through to him, and he couldn't avoid a rueful grin.

"But I'm the only one who gets to say that," she added in a quiet
voice.

It was calculated to pique his interest, and he glanced at her
sidelong.

"I don't think I'll ever say it, though." She paused. "After all,
I _like_ it when you point that thing at me."

"You wouldn't like it if they were laughing at _you_," he said,
holding on to his sullenness with both hands.

She slid closer to him, worming under his arm and draping it over
her shoulder.

"They weren't laughing _at_ you, sweetheart," she said earnestly.
"They were laughing _with_ you. You saw how they treated you.
You're one of them, as sure as Jack or Jerry Schmidt or even the
commander."

He glanced at her, unconvinced.

"Oh, come on, you big sourpuss," she teased. "You know how
callsigns work. The more you hate them, the more they stick. You
told me that yourself."

"Yeah, but I _liked_ 'Gator,'" he said, his sullenness making a
last grab at holding on.

"That's why they gave you a new one," she said matter-of-factly.
"Besides, I like Zuniac." He started to speak, but she cut him
off. "I didn't mind having a gator in bed with me. But a Zuniac...?
Mmm. I like a man who knows how to use his rocket." Her sexy
teasing had its effect, and his attitude began to improve.

"After you take the babysitter home," she said when they pulled
into the driveway, "you can show me your rocket." With that, she
ran her hand along his trousers to his inner thigh. Then she
brushed her fingers against his crotch, teasing him.

She was waiting for him when he returned. None of her lingerie
fit, so she was wearing one of his uniform shirts. It smelled
like him, and she could already feel herself getting wet. She
still felt big and awkward, but her arousal grew and she forgot
about feeling unattractive. She gestured to him with a crooked
finger, smiling as he drew near.

"Is that for me?" she asked coyly, glancing at the bulge of his
erection.

He grinned and stepped closer.

She unbuckled his belt, massaging his confined erection as she
did. "Mmm, show me your rocket."

He pushed his trousers and underwear down in one motion, his
semi-hard dick springing free.

She reached for him, his hips warm under her hands. He shuffled
forward and she captured the spongy tip of his dick, inhaling his
scent. He groaned softly and put his hands on her head, forcing
her closer.

She opened her mouth and took more of him. He grew harder still,
her lips tightening as his dick thickened. She sucked gently, the
soft skin of his shaft sliding over the harder layer underneath.
Then she pulled back until she felt the ridge of his glans, her
lips in a tight "O".

She flicked her tongue against the tip of his dick, feeling for
the slit and teasing it when she found it. She looked up, her
eyes full of love. He smiled at her and brushed the backs of his
fingers over her cheek. She let his dick slide from her lips and
then kissed the tip, her eyes drooping closed as the kiss drew
out. Finally, she looked up at him again.

"Why don't we get comfortable," she suggested.

His eyebrows rose with a silent question.

"I thought I could give you a long, deep blowjob," she said,
swallowing at the sudden rush of moisture in her mouth.

"Yeah," he said, almost reverently. Then he almost fell over in
his rush to shed his pants and underwear.

Beth stifled a laugh and watched him hurriedly unbutton his
shirt. His urgency was comforting.

Her eyes traced the sparse trail of hair leading from his navel
to his dick, which bobbed gently with his heartbeat. She
swallowed again, salivating at the thought of taking him deep in
her throat.

Beth had always enjoyed giving head, but she'd perfected her
skills when she was pregnant with Paul. She and David hadn't
discovered many positions they could have sex in, but she always
enjoyed sitting between his legs and sucking him.

The position had another purpose, which Beth didn't like to
admit: it hid her belly from him, and made her look like she
wasn't pregnant. David constantly told her how sexy she was, but
she didn't always believe it. When she sat between his legs, she
_felt_ sexy, because he couldn't see how ungainly she was.

She knew she shouldn't be so self-conscious about her body--
pregnancy was natural, after all--but she couldn't help how she
felt. When she thought he couldn't see how big she was, she felt
better. So her embarrassment had actually worked in her favor,
and she'd learned to take his dick all the way down her throat.

At first, she'd simply wanted to swallow more of him (she never
imagined she'd be able to take his entire length). But as her
first pregnancy progressed, she grew more self-conscious the
larger she got. So she wanted to suck him more often than she
wanted him to make love to her.

She quickly learned to take all but the last few inches. Those
were the hardest, though, since she couldn't breathe with his
dick down her throat. But by that time, she was quietly
determined to swallow _all_ of him.

David had been amused at first. He knew he was bigger than most
men, but when he realized Beth was serious about taking him all
the way, he grew more enthusiastic about it.

Finally, she managed to swallow him completely. She vividly
remembered his groan as she wrapped her lips around the base of
his dick. It had sent a thrill of pleasure through her at the
time. She still felt a thrill whenever she took him all the way.

She smiled to herself now and settled between his legs. She sat
cross-legged, the most comfortable position with her huge belly.
She could sit there for hours, she reflected, licking and sucking
his erection. But she knew he wouldn't last. Not the first time,
at least.

Even after years of marriage, David still came quickly the first
time. He didn't go soft, though, and the _second_ time was always
longer and more intense. After she coaxed the first orgasm from
his heavy balls, it seemed as though he could go for hours.

She liked sucking him--she felt powerful, in control. And David
wasn't so full of machismo that he wanted to dominate their
lovemaking. He let her direct things sometimes, although he
probably knew where they were going all along.

She smiled to herself and absently teased the tip of his dick,
her hands resting on his inner thighs. A quick glance up assured
her that he knew _exactly_ what she was up to. She smiled again
and opened her mouth, reveling in the sensation as his dick
glided along her tongue. She closed her lips and breathed through
her nose, the smell of his manhood rich in her nostrils.

After several minutes of teasing, she began sucking in earnest,
taking more of him into her mouth on each downstroke. He entered
the back of her mouth, thick and hard and hot. She felt the
pressure on the walls of her throat, her cheeks and lips tight as
she stretched to accommodate him.

She stopped breathing--she _couldn't_ breathe with him filling
her throat--and forced herself down. When her vision grew dim and
she started to see stars, she pulled back, fighting the urge to
gasp. His shaft gleamed, shiny with her saliva. She swallowed
hard and took a deep breath.

When she went down again, she slid her lips along his shaft, her
tongue caressing the underside ridge. Her mouth was full, taut
around his invading shaft, the bulbous head pressing against her
throat. She held her breath and plunged down, inch by inch.

She paused for a moment, her lips wrapped around the base of his
shaft. Before her air ran out, she opened her mouth and slowly
forced her head down. Her throat felt full and tight, tingling
with the sensation. She shivered with a rush of excitement when
her nose pressed into him, his wiry pubic hair crushed against
her cheeks, his balls warm on her chin.

She sucked gently and felt her eyes water. She couldn't breathe,
but she mastered her panic and sucked again. He rewarded her with
a grunt of pleasure. She sucked as long as she could, her throat
full, her mouth working gently.

Finally, with spots before her eyes, she pulled back. She tried
not to rush, but the urge to breathe almost overwhelmed her.
After what seemed like an eternity, she let his dick slip from
her lips. She panted for a moment, gulping air.

Then she kissed the tip of his dick and used it to spread saliva
over her lips and chin. He liked to watch her play with him, and
she made a show of things. Then she closed her eyes and opened
her mouth, ready to swallow him again. This time was easier,
since her throat had already stretched to accommodate him before.

He groaned when she wrapped her lips around the base of his
shaft. He rested his hands on her head, his touch light. He knew
better than to try and force her, and she smiled at his
restraint. Once again, she held her breath as long as she could,
coming up for air only after her vision grew dim.

At that point she lost track of time. She could feel the molten
wetness between her own legs, but she ignored it and concentrated
on giving David what he wanted. Her head slowly rose and fell as
she fellated him, his dick filling her mouth and throat on each
downward plunge.

"Oh, God," he groaned at last.

With a guilty blush, she realized that she'd been in her own
world, lost in the pleasure of sucking his dick. She smelled his
semen a moment before she felt the heat in the back of her
throat. She pulled back just in time, and managed not to choke as
the second gush flooded her mouth.

Salty-bitter hotness washed over her tongue, filling her nostrils
with the smell as it filled her mouth with the taste. She
swallowed, the hot liquid soothing her raw throat. A detached
part of her realized that she'd have a sore throat in the
morning, but she didn't care. At the moment, the only thing she
cared about was pumping David's dick, urging the last drop from
his balls as he groaned incoherently.

When he finally finished spurting, she pulled back, her lips taut
lest she lose any of his semen. She swallowed, the taste changing
from salty to almost-sweet as the white liquid rolled over her
tongue. She swallowed again and licked her lips, tasting more of
him.

"Oh, baby," he groaned, "that was fantastic."

She smiled to herself and kissed the tip of his dick. He jerked
as the sensation overloaded his senses, so she kissed down his
shaft toward his balls. She sucked them for a moment, coaxing
them from close to his body. She could feel the warm wetness of
his dick resting against her cheek. The scent of him filled her
nose, thick and heavy and masculine.

"I want to eat you," he said from above her, and she fought not
to jerk upright in shock.

"I'm fine," she protested. She was still self-conscious about her
pussy, especially since she couldn't even see it anymore without
the help of a mirror.

"Sit up here," he said, undeterred. He stood before she could
react, his erection bobbing gently as he gazed down at her.

He helped her stand and then turned her. When she felt the gentle
pressure at the back of her knees, she sat down heavily. She
tried to protest again but he silenced her with a look. Then he
knelt between her legs, his erection bumping her thigh as he did.

A moment later he kissed her, careful to avoid putting too much
pressure on her belly. He ran his hands along her sides, sending
jolts of electricity through her. She could protest all she
liked, she thought, but her body knew what it wanted.

David kissed his way down her jaw, making her gasp with pleasure
at his light touch. She gasped again when his lips brushed over
her neck, and she felt her pulse flutter at the sensation. Lower
and lower, until he kissed her nipples, nipping and biting
gently. They hadn't been very sensitive since Paul was born, but
David's touch was deft and sure--strong enough, but not so strong
that pain marred the pleasure.

After a moment he kissed her belly, his hands cupping it, her
distended belly-button a true button, long-since pushed out. Her
breathing grew erratic in anticipation, and soon enough, she felt
his shoulders between her legs.

She stifled a frustrated moan when he began kissing her inner
thighs instead of her pussy. She tried to move her hips, but he
held her in place. She wanted him to kiss her _pussy_. Her lips--
wet and hot with arousal--slid against each other as she
squirmed.

She tried to guide his movements, but he was teasing her. She
cried out softly in frustration as his kisses passed over her
labia once again. Then she inhaled sharply as he kissed the
junction of her thigh and her body. She quivered and swallowed
hard, her chest heaving.

Her clit practically throbbed with pent-up need, but David
avoided it. Instead, he kissed everywhere but where she wanted
him to. She was just about ready to reach down and play with
herself when--

She arched her back and clamped her eyes shut.

David continued sucking her clit, his lips tight and warm and
_buzzing_. She panted from the force of an almost palpable wave
of ecstasy. Pleasure surged through her again as his tongue
flicked against the sensitive little bead.

He teased her with his fingers too, his touch sure and smooth
from years of familiarity. She moaned softly and held his head in
place as he sucked her clit.

Timeless minutes passed, and she felt her thighs begin to tremble
with the need for release. The first twinges of orgasm fluttered
through her body, and she gave herself up as the tide washed over
her. Heat and moisture and pleasure flooded her senses, and she
heard herself cry out, as if from a distance. She felt herself
tense up, but the world was muted and hazy as she floated on a
sea of sensation.

As she finally came to her senses, minutes later, she looked down
her body, over her heaving belly. When she saw David's face,
though, her eyes flew wide.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He swallowed hard.

"David?"

His shock vanished and he quickly composed himself. Then,
absurdly, he grinned.

"David... _what?!_"

"I think...," he said, glancing back at her crotch. Then his grin
widened. "I think your water just broke."

Her face went slack, and shock filled her as she concentrated on
the sensations between her legs and in her belly. She hadn't
_felt_ any contractions, but--

"It did," he said, holding up hands that were wet from her
fluids.

She felt the first contraction then, hard and sharp.

He stood quickly. "We have to get to the hospital."

She fought not to gape; he was still hard--_very_ hard--and his
erection was a comical counterpoint to his urgency.

"Beth, let's _go!_"

_It's not time,_ she silently wailed. _Not_ yet_! Not for another
three weeks!_ Frustration filled her. She was having another baby
early, and she was _not_ amused.

"Don't worry about packing a bag," he said, dashing toward their
bedroom. He returned a moment later with her dress and a bath
towel. His hard-on had softened, but it was still stiff enough to
make her giggle. "What's so funny?" he asked, with a flicker of
irritation. "We have to _go_."

She didn't mention the absurdity of the situation (or his
erection). She was still in shock, if only a bit. Another
contraction snapped her out of it.

"I'll call Susan to watch Paul," David said, reaching for the
phone.

"Put on some pants before she gets here," Beth said, suppressing
another giggle.

He looked at her as if she'd sprouted tentacles. A moment later
he shook himself and dialed the phone.

Beth laughed as she tried to clean herself up. She wasn't happy
that the baby had decided to come early, but she'd resigned
herself to the fact.

_If the world gives you lemons...,_ she mused irreverently. Then
she sobered. She was having a baby! Now! _And_ here, _if I don't
get a move on,_ she told herself.

Fear and amusement and pleasure and anticipation filled her all
at once. She stifled another giggle as David shot her a dismayed
look.

She composed herself and smiled placidly, partly to calm him, but
partly because it was the only thing she _could_ do.

_Well, Erin,_ she thought at last, _if you're ready, then I guess
I am too._

**

Copyright (c) 2007 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

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