She showered and pulled on some reasonably clean jeans, after giving them a quick look over and a sniff, then nudged the lump in her bed. Two big arms...reached for her and she danced away deftly. ‘You gotta go, I hafta go to work,’ She said loudly throwing a discarded pillow at him. She watched as he groaned and sat up rubbing his face and pushing his hands through his shaggy hair. ‘I thought the band was your gig,’ he said in confusion. ‘Never pegged you for a nine to five chick.’ ‘Yeah well. Over six foot of succulent womanhood, ripe with her pregnancy. Her bodily odours sent wonderful messages to his brain. He sucked one ample breast into his mouth, running his tongue around and lapping under her milky nipple, his tongue circling her nipple until it started to leak. “Mothers milk?” he asked. She nodded “yes.” He sucked enthusiastically. His mind was full of wonder, this was nature at work creating food for the baby she was carrying. She pulled his head down to her other. Sean wasted no time dropping to one knee. By the time I had removed my bra, Sean was pulling at the lowest strings. I pulled off my shoes, but did not want to interrupt his work, so I stayed on tiptoe. The concentration needed for balance kept me from other thoughts. Sean told me to stand flatfooted and face him, so I did. He asked me if I would whip Christine under similar circumstances. It was a good question, with an obvious answer. I would not, so Sean would not. The reason I would not was. It was all too obvious that the jury did not believe her contention that she had accidently killed her husband in a strange quirk of fate that left him bleeding to death on the white fluffy carpet.Married at eighteen to a man with a violent past, she was in love with her husband, Mike, even though he didn't hesitate to yank down her panties and wallop her backside whenever he thought she had done something an obedient wife should not have done. All of their friends and relatives knew of his.