My obsession with pregnant women happened, when I was staying the summer at a friend’s house. His mother recently had a baby and started breastfeed...ng. Several times, I watched her breastfeed and found the whole process beautiful. She mentioned that her husband wasn’t liking all the weight she had gained and stopped having sex with her. I found her to be a knockout and one thing led to another and we started having sex. The best part was she let me drink her breast milk. She found it very. "It was all set and I started putting my plan into action by first working on King. The employee's rest room was in the stock room so I found that I needed to go to the bathroom more often than usual. (An excuse to see King and have a little chat.) I headed to the stock room to implement the next stage of my plan, approaching King and said that he reminded me of my black friend in high school. I got my best coy shy smile and said, "He liked to kiss me, and I really loved it." I stood there. Stroking him. She held his dome to her slippery maw and ran her finger underneath where they joined. “You feel good,” she sighed, “even if you do talk a lot of shit. You hardly even went soft all the way.”“When you touch me, it makes my skin feel like something else. I don’t know what. Something better, maybe. Like when you touch my skin my skin feels like something that can’t be touched, except you’re touching it anyway.”“You know, you really talk crazy sometimes.” But she was still smiling.“I. Gorgeous. Her hair, while straight and brown, was glossy with health and framed her oval face perfectly. She wore a jacket, but it was open and the blouse underneath had several buttons undone, revealing creamy skin and a modest cleavage.“You’re gorgeous,” he sighed.“But you’re not interested,” she said, flatly.“Not in sex with no connection.”She nodded, smiling sadly, and they went on to talk about the things that interested them finding a remarkable commonality. At length – she’d spent over.