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“Tell me you want it,” he ordered. “Tell me how much you want my cum, how much you want me to fill you up, baby.”
“I-I want it,” you whined as he fucked you relentlessly.
You were practically folded in half as he pounded into you, your ankles hooked on his shoulders. You’d been at it for at least an hour, but honestly, you were losing track of time, mind reeling from the number of orgasms he’d pulled from you.
That morning, you’d told him you were finally ready. Kids hadn’t been on your radar until you met Bob. You hadn’t ruled one way or another, but when the two of you started dating, when he mentioned wanting a baby one day, it became a need. So you weren’t surprised that shortly after letting him know that you wanted to start trying, you caught him researching positions, reading about how you’d be more likely to get pregnant if you came.
Thus, it became his personal mission to make you climax as many times as possible, immediately followed by him spilling into you. Over and over again. His superhuman stamina ensured that he could go multiple rounds without needing a break. He fucked you into the mattress, one thumb flicking your clit, palm pressing into your lower abdomen, feeling himself inside of you. Each brutal thrust had his tip bruising your cervix.
And the whole thing was so wet, both of you drenched in sweat, your thighs slick with the combination of your collective climaxes. It was sloppy, and Bob was losing rhythm, nearing yet another release.
“Gonna look so pretty all full of me,” he mouthed against your lips, pushing impossibly deeper inside of you.
“Ple-Please,” you begged, almost screeching from the overstimulation, clawing at his back helplessly. “Please, Bob, want you to cum inside of me – want you to get me pregnant.”
Bob nodded weakly, his sweaty forehead sticking to yours.
“Cum with me, baby,” he rasped into your mouth, increasing the pressure of his thumb circling your clit.
On his command, you did exactly that. Your body shook under the weight of him, trembling with the gravity of your orgasm. Your walls fluttered and clenched around him, milking his own release as he continued to drive into you, pushing his cum deeper and deeper. Both of you gasping and moaning filled the room with the obscene sound of ecstasy.
Finally, he released his grip on your legs, allowing them to fall to his sides as he collapsed into you. Bob kissed you ardently, his hands coming to hold the sides of your face.
“Did so good for me, Y/N,” he said, releasing your lips, but only pulling away far enough to look into your eyes. His sparkled with affection, pure love for you.
He was softening inside of you but made no effort to pull out, basking in the warmth that you provided. He moved a hand down, resting it on your belly, just below your navel. You watched the way his throat worked around a swallow, his eyes darkening as he looked down at his hand against you. You knew he was thinking about you being pregnant, how you’d swell with his child inside of you, how you’d glow.
“You think it worked?” he asked breathlessly, voice barely above a whisper.
“Dunno,” you answered truthfully. “It might take a while, but we can start tracking my cycle more closely, make sure we’re optimizing my ovulation periods.”
Bob nodded again, and you noticed the glassy look in his eyes. You moved your handed from where they gripped his shoulders to cup his cheeks, pulling his attention back to your face.
“Hey,” you soothed. “It’s gonna happen.”
“I know, I just –” his voice cracked with an emotion you couldn’t quite place “– want it so bad.”
“Me too,” you said, trying to reassure him. “Want a baby with your hair, your eyes…”
You brushed away a curl that stuck to his forehead and traced a line down along his eyebrow.
“Your nose,” he interjected, nudging against it with his. “Your lips.”
He kissed you featherlight and loving before he shifted, moving to lift up on his elbows and pull out of you.
“No, no wait!” You winced, stopping him. “Just a little longer? To be safe?”
Bob bit back a smile, settling back into you.
The two of you talked for a while about your unborn child – whether you thought it would be a boy or a girl, what you might name them, how Yelena would spoil them. Eventually, Bob pulled out of you, careful not to spill any of the cum he’d so meticulously filled you with, and walked to the bathroom.
When he returned, he cleaned the insides of your thighs and brought you some fresh clothes to put on, a soft cotton pair of underwear and one of his old t-shirts. Then, he lifted your hips to place a pillow below them and layed down next to you.
The two of you drifted to sleep like that – you on your back, hips elevated, and him on his side, curled against you, large hand splayed against your stomach.