As a fifty two year old man, I have always had a thing for pregnant women, always been attracted to them. This recent experience happened to me from out of the blue. And given the circumstances, I should feel guilty about it, but I don’t.

I had just gotten home after a long day at work, and my phone rang. Looking at the number, I recognized it was my youngest son’s landline.

He had recently accepted a work assignment in Argentina that required him to be there for extended periods of time, leaving his wife behind to fend for herself. I hadn’t been happy about the situation he was leaving his wife in, but understood it was a great career opportunity for him, and it really wasn’t any of my business to say otherwise. But I thought it was stupidity to leave her behind. Since I live alone, after my ex-wife and I separated, I make it a point to check in on her often. She works from home as an accountant and has no family nearby.

I answered and was pleased, as usual, to hear the voice of my twenty-six-year-old, three-months-pregnant daughter-in-law.

“Hi Dad. Would you like to come over tonight for dinner?”

My daughter-in-law is named Chris. She’s an attractive brunette with a fantastic body that looks even better with the pregnancy that is filling her out. We’ve always gotten along well, so naturally I quickly accepted the invitation. In private, we’ve flirted with each other, but always in a joking way. But I always walked away from those moments with a raging hard-on that I managed to hide. Tonight I just looked forward to a relaxing dinner and was happy I didn’t have to cook, eat leftovers or order takeout. I took a quick shower and headed out the door.

When I arrived at Chris’, she greeted me with the usual tight hug and a kiss. I wanted to keep on holding on but didn’t want my blooming cock to interfere with dinner or our time together.

Chris was a vision from my dreams.

She had little or no makeup, other than a sexy shade of pink lipstick. Her dark hair framed her beautiful face. She was dressed in a tight-fitting white T-shirt that accentuated her expanding melon-sized breasts. She was already a thirty five or thirty six DD sized woman, but her tits had grown and looked even more luscious. They were held in place by a sheer, lacy bra I could see through her T-shirt. Her tits were showing off in a way designed to keep my eyes glued to them without extraordinary effort on my part to pry them away. The T-shirt clung tightly to her growing belly, and I could see the outline of her belly button. It was a total turn-on to see her growing abdomen. The tightness of her T-shirt left no room for my imagination; it was practically transparent.

She wore tight fitting jeans that looked spray painted onto her bubble butt and toned legs. Rounding out the look were the sexy sandals she wore with her perfectly manicured hands and feet.

Simply put, she looked stunning.

After our greeting, she took me by the hand and walked me to the kitchen. On the counter were two wine glasses and a bottle of my favorite red wine.

And a bottle of Welch’s Grape Juice.

She looked at me and said, “I didn’t want you drinking alone!” We both got a good laugh out of that, and I poured us each a glass, mine with wine, hers with juice.

“To a wonderful evening,” I toasted.

We had seen each other just the week before, but we caught up on new news.

I could tell Chris was not happy with some new information.

“I spoke to Jay. He’s been gone three weeks and told me that his stay had been extended another month!”

She was on the verge of tears, so I set down my wineglass, and she leaned into my arms.

“It’s getting so lonely, I’m thinking of going to my folks' house for a while. If not for you, I’d be gone already.”

Her body, molded against mine, felt wonderful. I started to say something when she looked up. Instinctively, I kissed her warm, full lips, and she kissed back.

The kiss went on for a few seconds, and then she pulled away and said, “I should get dinner on the table.”

Neither one of us wanted to eat, but she set the table and I got a salad she had prepared from the refrigerator. Chris pulled her world-class lasagna from the oven and served it onto our plates.

The mood as we ate was quiet. We were both unnerved by our kiss, but not in an awkward way, more of a way that felt like longing.

“Chris,” I started saying, “I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable just now.”

“No, I’m sorry. But it felt good, I’m alone, I look like a whale, and you are so kind to me. Don’t worry, we’re good.”

Just as a point of clarification, she DID not look like a whale.

We finished dinner, and the electric mood changed. The atmosphere was tense, and we struggled to keep eye contact. We finished dinner, I poured us each another glass of wine and juice. As I did that, the tension between us fell apart as we laughed, again, about the grape juice.

I insisted on cleaning up the kitchen and ran Chris off to find a movie for us to watch. She got a gleam in her eye and said, “I know just the movie!” Then she left me cleaning up since it was only the two of us. I quickly finished cleaning and putting leftovers away.

When I walked into the living room, my jaw dropped. Chris looked up and said, “Since we’re watching a movie, I thought I’d get comfortable. Have you ever seen 9 1/2 Weeks?”

She had changed out of the tight T-shirt and jeans and was wearing pale green babydoll lingerie and fuzzy white slippers that had two inch heels. The material was sheet, and I could see every square inch of her body. Especially the fullness of her breasts and the slightest swell of her belly, growing with my first grandchild.

“I hope you don’t mind how I’m dressed.”

I didn’t know if it was the kiss, the wine I had drunk, the pressure on Chris of being alone, but at the moment, we didn’t care, and whatever taboos we were about to break were thrown out the window.

“I don’t mind at all because you look beautiful. 9 1/2 Weeks is a favorite of mine.”

I approached her and pulled her to her feet. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her. In my growing excitement, I wasn’t gentle and quickly probed her mouth and tongue with my tongue.

Chris was as needy as me and kissed back with the same urgency. The feel of her perfect breasts against me and the swell of her belly had my seven inches of cock straining in my slacks.

I pulled a strap of her lingerie to the side and leaned down to kiss her breast. Her nipples were hard and protruding out almost three-quarters of an inch. The areola surrounding her nipples was two inches around and the same shade of pink. Her skin was so pale, so perfect I could see blue veins beneath her skin.

I suckled one, then the other nipple of her breasts as I moaned, “Oh my god! That feels so good, Daddy. Kiss me.” The sound of her voice calling me Daddy drove me crazy.

I abandoned her tits and once again was fighting with her tongue, each of us trying to dominate the other.

Suddenly, Chris dropped to her knees and fumbled with my belt and pants. She unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my pants and pulled the zipper down, and peeled everything off me. My cock, free from the constraints of clothing sprang out as she gripped it at the base.

“Mmmm, Daddy, I’m glad you’re manscaped.” Then, looking me in the eye she licked the head of my cock, tasting the pre-cum already leaking from me.

She sucked the head of my helmet into her mouth and gently sucked while she stroked me. Slowly, she lowered her head and took more of my hardness into her mouth. Then she released me, stood, and said, “Let’s go make our own movie.”

(To be continued)