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She stopped just before it happened. Waited. Moved a few more times, just her hips. Stalked my orgasm. Waited for it to drop back to manageable levels, the non-danger zone. Then she said. "When I have my baby, I wonder which of you will be the father. Look at all this jizz you guys put in me. I want more. I want all of your babies. I can feel that big fat stick about to make me a baby mama. I'm gonna be so pregnant after tonight." FUCK ME!" I screamed as the orgasm roared through my dick and up into her hole. I beat my head against the floor and yelled incoherently as rope after rope after rope flowed up my shaft and into her. I was in shock as my pulse count reached nine, and then I finally felt myself returning to normal. She stood up, and, in five strokes, dribbled her last, sexy load off onto my stomach. I felt my eyes roll back in my head. Martinez stood up and HE fucking came on my stomach. Of course, I didn't see that because my eyes were rolled back in my head. Connie went. Chores and petty frustrations would find a path back into their lives. His grief would eventually pounce on him as it always did, unbidden, one minute coping and the next minute a crush of emotion, devouring him. Connection is all, but the world moves on, relentless. He looked to her and saw she was no longer smiling. Her eyes were downcast. “Are you….?” he asked. He wasn’t sure how to complete the sentence. “Am I what?” she returned, her voice assuming the tiniest edge or irritation. “Okay. Are you okay?” “Sure.” “Good,” he said. It was so hard to gauge what she was thinking. It was so hard to gauge what anyone was thinking. How do people do this? he remembered thinking, mere moments ago. She regarded him. “I’m fine. I really am.” The edge of irritation had gone away. “You’re not angry?” “No more than usual.” She allowed him a small smile as she said it. “I’m glad.” She said, “Am I going to see you again? I mean, not that you have to or anything.” She spoke a little too quickly,.
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