I supported myself over her, as she caressed and fondled my thrumming cock, eyes dancing as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth, always a good sign!
Lori lifted her pelvis, positioning me, and nodded, my signal to start pushing slowly into her tight hot pussy, a slow steady press forward until I was all the way in, then as I kissed my darling girl deeply and passionately, her breasts pressed against my chest, I began slowly pumping my cock in long steady strokes.
I continued to pump and grind into her, she clamping her lips over mine, and wrapping her arms around my neck to keep me in place as I humped her pussy for all I was worth, sliding my cock in and out as she flicked her tongue in and out of my mouth, setting the tempo for me.
At last, I began to approach my climax; I had been hyper-stimulated by what had gone before, and the feel of Lori moving underneath me, her nipples rubbing against my chest like two little thumbs, her mouth and tongue working on mine, were becoming too much for me, and I began to speed up. Lori knew I was getting there, and she wrapped her legs around my waist to give herself more purchase as she pumped my cock, not trying to come herself, but making sure I had as good a time as she had.
When I came, it was like a light snapped on in my head, my body going rigid as the spunk roared out of me, jetting into her in long, bullet-hard spurts, Lori climaxing again, her vaginal tube pulsing against my cock, muscular ripples pumping even more spunk out of my distended cock, her breathing harsh and shallow into my mouth, her lips still locked onto mine.
I collapsed, dazed, still embedded to the hilt in her hot, tight pussy, rolling over to roll her on top of me, kissing and squeezing her to me, fondling her astonishing bum-cheeks, never wanting to let her go, trembling and quivering as my adrenaline high slowly dissipated, limbic system still triggering and re-triggering as her pheromones rocketed around my system, calm only gradually returning, my breathing and heart-rate slowing back to normal.
“Are you done, you sex-obsessed English pervert?” She grinned, eyes alight with suppressed laughter,
“Now that you’ve knocked me up, are you gonna buy me dinner, or do I have to go back to turning tricks in the lobby?”
Chuckling at her cheerful vulgarity, and marvelling at her ability to say just the right thing, I smacked her on her Oh! so smackable rump.
“Up you, we are going out; I am taking the most beautiful girl in the world out to dinner, it’s a beautiful night, the restaurant comes highly recommended, and I feel like showing off my dazzler of a fiancee, the mother of my baby!”
Lori’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears, as she said with a big smile “Say that again!”
“Of course, darling! My fiancee, and, without a doubt, the most beautiful expectant mother on the planet. Our baby is so lucky to be having you for a mother!”
Lori dimpled at the compliment, suddenly looking so much younger than her nearly twenty years, and slowly disengaged herself from the still semi-rigid cock embedded in her, getting up and preparing to have a shower, the spunk dribbling down her leg as she stood.
“Oh! Eewww! Gross!” She exclaimed, “How much of this stuff have you got, anyway?”
“Dunno,” I replied, “I did try an experiment to see how much I could do in a day, however, so here’s a quick note-to-self; don’t look in your purse…”
Lori laughed out loud.
“You pig, you gross, disgusting pig, you make all the other gross pigs look like cuddly bunny rabbits! I’m going to scrub, now, before I catch Gross Pig Disease off you!”
With a sexy flirt of her star-quality rear end, Lori padded over to the bathroom.
“I want to shower, alone, understand? If you come sneaking in, I promise you, I will shove my foot up your ass, fiancee or no, you got that?”
I could see she meant it, and nodded surrender; in any case, I was, for now, completely drained and deflated. If I did sneak into the bathroom now, all I would be good for would be to hand her a towel or applaud.
I had fallen asleep waiting for her to finish in the bathroom, so I came awake with a start when something flicked the end of my penis, painfully.
I looked up to see Lori grinning at me, ready to flick another one across by best friend if I hadn’t awakened.
“Come on, Jabba the Butt, hands off cock, on with socks, you’re taking me to dinner, get moving!”
I raised-up, seeing her properly, a sight I never tire of; she had obviously finished her toilette, she looked serenely beautiful, hair glossy and skin glowing, and I felt myself twitch involuntarily at the sight of her.
“Oho, no you don’t!” she exclaimed, “dinner first, I am so looking forward to it, so get moving, slowcoach!”
Muttering about domineering women and their compulsive need to bark orders while scratching their arses and farting, I slid off the bed, and blearily looked her in the face, still only partially awake.
“See, there, now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” she smiled sweetly, and as I turned away to head to the bathroom, she swatted me, hard, across my bare backside.
“Domineering women, yeah?” she grinned and I could only smile sheepishly.
(At this point, just let me just correct any misconceptions you may have about the nature of our relationship. Lori is not at all submissive or compliant, nor excessively feminine or inhibited unless she feels like it; she does what she does because she wants to, and she’s quite capable of kicking me in the balls while punching me in the throat if she felt I deserved it, knowing since childhood that I was handicapped by nature and upbringing from whaling her back.)
Twenty minutes later, power-showered, shaved, brushed and spruced, I came out and headed for my closet, to try and find something reasonably dressy to wear, instead of the dockers and (expensive!) linen work shirts I had brought, remembering that Lori had bought me some clothes.
Smart girl, she had found a shop selling Pink’s shirts, in English sizes, the little fox logo an instant reminder of home, so she had picked up an armful in my size, as well as, to my gratified surprise, several pairs of Farah slacks, the type I wore when I wasn’t in scrubs or cargo pants.
I also found a box with a ribbon on it, with my name on a card. Inside were a set of discreet Union Jack cufflinks, and a thin dress watch, perhaps because she was embarrassed by the scuffed-up Mickey Mouse watch I wore. I wasn’t; Charlie gave it to me when I was eight, and I prized it above all other things (except Lori, of course).
So, scrubbed-up, dressed in my new clothes, and ready to face the world, I waited for Lori to emerge from her dressing room. It was worth it.
She had on a stunning strapless, skin-tight red satin Bodycon dress, paired with teetering red stilettos and natural stockings, and she looked devastating, a 5-alarm call-out if I had ever seen one.
“Like?” she asked, smiling and posing for me.
“Like!” I agreed, ready to forego dinner if she gave the slightest hint. I offered her my arm. “Shall we go?”
Lori smiled her sweet smile, lips startlingly red against her fair, porcelain skin and midnight hair.
“With pleasure, kind sir,” and, taking my arm, we headed down to the lobby, where we had a car waiting for us.
“Davey, we won’t be alone for dinner, do you mind?” she asked slightly apprehensively.
“I’m fine with it if you are” I responded, “who’s joining us?”
“I asked Aunt Sophie to join us, I need to make arrangements…. and I need to talk with her… about the baby” said Lori in a small, worried voice. I pulled her close to me.
trying to keep her focussed and upbeat; worrying was definitely not good for the baby.
“Don’t worry, darling, Sophie is seriously besotted with you, it’ll be fine, you’ll see.”
I understood completely what was happening with her though; studying medicine had given me certain insights, after all. With Mother gone, who else was she going to turn to? She had no living female relatives, and those female relatives of mine that I knew about, I wouldn’t have let within a mile of my darling girl. While I knew about the mechanics of the situation, the emotional side was a closed book to me, but what I did know from my medical student days was that pregnant women want, and need, other women around them, preferably close relatives, and definitely not men.
We arrived at the restaurant to find Sophie and a young Consular Security officer/driver waiting for us, so we went in to our table, causing a bit of a flutter among the other patrons; a young man escorting an elegant older lady, and a stunner in a mini-dress, with a diplomatic car waiting outside, but Lori was too distracted to notice the attention, a worrying sign of just how wound-tight she really was.
After the usual small talk, Sophie thanked us for the invitation, although admitting she was a little puzzled and mystified as to why it had come so late in the day.
Lori apologised for the abrupt invitation, explaining in a low voice about her possible condition, and her worries, and most of all, what Sophie and Richard would think of her. I kept shut and busied myself with an in-depth, forensic examination of the menu; right now Lori needed a mother, not a boyfriend.