I took a moment to admire her naked body; she was absolutely gorgeous.

She had curves: lots of them, and they were all fantastic.

Since Luna had fallen pregnant I found myself fantasising of nothing but energetic fornication with gravid young ladies. The merest sight of her pregnant form became intensely arousing, as I became desperate for sex with her.

I sought out "preggo porn" on the Internet, and spent so much of my evenings watching expectant women fuck their way through masses of rampant young men. I dreamt of pregnant women, I masturbated as I watched their swollen bellies receive passionate poundings from scores of horny dicks.

I was jealous of them, all of the porn stars. They got to plow the pregnant women's pussies, watch the young ladies suck them to orgasm or occasionally drive their cocks into their pert asses. They got to enjoy the knocked-up sluts, each one swimming with pregnant hormones as they became breathlessly satisfied.

I found the pregnant porn stars who looked like Luna: black hair, innocent smile, gorgeous eyes. I pretended it was Luna, and envied the male porn stars even more: they got to feel her engorged tits, rub her distended belly and kiss the object of my fantasies. They got to bring the insatiable slut to orgasms, watching as their cum dripped from her puffy cunt or glistening whorl.

I wished it was me; me and my Luna.

In the early months she complained about her lack of sex drive: candid moments shared over coffee. If she was experiencing a lack of interest in sex, her state had me admiring every pregnant woman I saw; the bare bellies showing prominently on the buses, in the shops and in the coffee houses.

I even started travelling via a notorious part of town on hotter days: watching for salaciously dressed young ladies carrying a familiar bump as they waddled from the shops.

I met Amy on the bus. She was eight and a half months pregnant. She wore light clothes on the warm day and the walk had caused the red shirt to rise. I stared at her bump, dreaming of what lay beneath her trousers.

She looked in her late teenage years: I'd later discover she was nineteen, impregnated by a one-night stand during her second year of college. She groaned as she walked: her slight frame carrying a big bump; perhaps it was twins.

Her legs looked tired, her eyes looked drained. She caught me staring, fantasising about fucking her and barked at me aggressively: she was only pregnant, not fat. I shouldn't stare. I shouldn't judge.

I apologised immediately; I explained I found the act of pregnancy and childbirth exciting and amazing. She was coyly embarrassed when I said I thought she looked lovely, even as she waddled. She smiled as I plundered my imagination for compliments; flattery unlocked her reticence.

She still worked in a shoe shop, unable to give up work due to money worries. I met her the following morning as I bought a pair of trainers from her and we chatted; I convinced her to let me take her to lunch. We agreed on the sexual transaction over cappuccino: two hours of sex for three hundred pounds.

She was cheap, but it was more money than she'd normally earn in a week; it was less than I earned in a day. And I had unfulfilled needs. I needed to fuck the pregnant woman. I needed to enjoy the heave of her swollen breasts against my body and breathe in the sights of her smooth bump. I wanted to see her radiant body tingle as I sucked on her clit, and then watch her cry with desperate lust as my cock slid past her puffy lips.

All of my dreams and fantasies, cruelly teased and denied for so long, were released in that cheap hotel room. She wore just a black tracksuit: her scruffy sluttiness causing my dick to rise instantly. She looked so sexy in the worn, tacky garment, and unbelievably erotic out of it. I admired her as we moved to the bed, holding her warm body in my arms as I held her closely to my skin.

I treasured that stance for seconds, breathing in her cheap perfume as my hands wandered over her smooth skin and delicate curves. My erection pressed into the small of her back. Her tits, leaking slightly, flinched under my touch.

My hands danced and flitted over her torso, gliding over her belly button, neatly popped to the surface by her bump. I twisted my fingers through her mass of pubic curls. Unshaved: so very sexy.

I could wait no longer, and laid her gently onto the bed: treating her with the utmost respect as my lips kissed the inside of her thigh, travelling up her leg to her musky crotch. Her aroma tickled my senses, my nose buried into her cunt as my tongue flicked against her crack.

She groaned with every touch on her clit, bucking her hips as she rode my face to multiple orgasms. I loved the view; the swell of her belly and the ascent of her bosom as her body trembled to the delightful sounds of her mighty climaxes.

And then I felt impatient; her watery eyes pleaded with me to fuck her as her ravaged body needed my unsheathed cock. It kissed my shaft and caressed my dick as I slid into her young cunt. She was wet, reeking with arousal as I thrusted my prick into her sex, pounding the pregnant bitch relentlessly.

She panted and mewed, squealing with wild abandon as her orgasm triggered mine and I flooded her cunt with my cum.

I had three more sessions with Amy before she dropped the baby. She always came to the hotel room in her worn tracksuit; the faded garment tatty, but so very dirty. She earned a lot of money out of me, but it was Luna I wanted.

She was the one that had triggered my fantasies and my desires; I saw her every day, but she was unattainable and unavailable. Over the months, Luna got heavier and larger; her belly distended so much, she waddled as she walked.