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“About what, exactly?” he asked me in a careful tone.

“That I got pregnant. That I wasn’t on birth control. Didn’t you assume that I was?”

“I was mad about a lot of things, mad at you, at what you did, leaving like that, then finding out you were pregnant when you did, but I’m not angry with you for that. You can’t be blamed for that. And I certainly shouldn’t be surprised. Yes, I assumed you were on something since I never used a condom and you never brought it up, but I never even asked you about birth control. This is on me. I fucked you bareback too many times to count because it felt good and I couldn’t get enough of it. God, just talking about it makes me want to get inside of you again.” He paused, collected himself. “I can’t tell you what I was thinking, except to say that mostly I wasn’t, and whatever part of me was clearly had no problem getting you pregnant. But I have no regrets, and I’m sorry if you do.”

“Really?” I asked tremulously. Big tears were running down my cheeks.

“Get over here,” he told me gruffly. “I can’t take you like this for another second without my hands on you. Now come sit on my lap and let me bounce you on my dick.”

I ignored that, though it wasn’t easy. I was squirming in my seat. “You said you didn’t want kids for another ten years.”

“I didn’t mean it,” he said, no hesitation. “I was barely paying attention to what I was saying when I did. I was just talking. It’s just something you say when your married friends are ribbing you about starting a family. Believe me, if I’d known you’d take it to heart, that you’d do what you did because you heard that, I’d have kept my fucking mouth shut. Now come here.”

He had his dick out now, and this time I obeyed. He was unwrapping me like a present when he asked, “How many kids do you want? I’d like more than one.”

He seated me on him, impaling me slowly.

“One at a time,” I said on a gasp.

He started fucking me, holding me above him and thrusting in and out, bouncing me on him, an uneven, addictive ride. Eventually he said, “You robbed me of months of this pregnancy. I’d like at least one extra child to make up for that.”

It took me a long time to answer. I only spoke after I’d come, and he was holding me still on top of him as I recovered. “I’ve been no fun for most of this one. I kept getting sick.”

“When did the multi-orgasmic phase start?”

“When you had me naked in your bed again.”

He liked that. He really liked it. He started fucking me again in earnest. He got me off again before he seated me balls deep and came hard. His hips churned as I milked out every bit of it. He made me come again just with his aftershocks.

“You’re too much like this,” he said into my ear, fondling my heavy breasts. “I love it. What having my baby is doing to your body, to my property. It belongs to me more than ever. You’re my creature now, completely. I own you, pet. Say it.”

I was squirming on his dick, and I was one little flick of the clit away from coming again. “You own me,” I said.

He got me off again then let me loose.

“I’m still worried after that passing out incident,” he told me. “Otherwise I’d stay inside of you all day.”

We watched anime for most of the day while I half-napped on the couch. I laid back against the arm of the sofa while he rubbed my legs, my feet. Eventually he got behind me and massaged my back and shoulders, my head and neck. When he started kneading at my breasts, I knew it was game over. He was so obsessed with them at this point I thought he could have come just from fondling me.

He devoted as much time as I’d let him taking care of my every need for the next few days. He was obsessed with the idea. He didn’t like for me to lift a finger.

He worked on his laptop next to me while I caught up on all my favorite shows. He told me that everything he wrote, everything he thought about involved my pregnant, voluptuous self.

“I’d like to keep you pregnant for the next decade,” he told me later as he was pumping into me. “How does five sound? Is that too many?”

I didn’t answer, but my screaming orgasm surely told him something.

“What would the mother of my children like for dinner today?” he asked me later.

I was smiling at that, just beaming at him. “It’s just one child so far.”

“That’s a technicality,” he told me. “You’ve pretty much agreed to at least one more. Five if I’m actively making you come.”

“I’d like a small break after this one, to adjust, to maybe take a few college classes.”

That pleased him greatly. He gave me that particular approving teacher look that I loved. “Of course, pet. I’ll help you get registered whenever you’re ready.”

Eventually I worked up the nerve to ask him a question I didn’t necessarily want the answer to. “Were you with a lot of women . . . after I left?”