My Shorts

Over the past few months, I have been doing some thinking, and I have drawn the conclusion that my shorts got me pregnant. Well, not just my shorts, but me thinking I always have Ian right where I want him. And what’s funny is, he was never aware of the schemes I had but always seemed to turn the tables.

Ian started picking up certain things I would do and caught on to my little routine. He realized the pattern of me sometimes making him wait days for sex and then basically teasing him into screwing me senseless. I don’t think he appreciated my antics because he got me good.

Normally, I never have to initiate sex with him but I found myself doing that. Not only did I have to start things, but he would also say no. This pattern went on for about a week, and mind you I was extra horny because Aunt Flow had just finished visiting.

The weekend came around, and I was happy because at least I could decrease my frustration by cleaning. The kids were gone so it was perfect. An empty house equals the ultimate cleaning opportunity. Now, usually when I clean, I wear sweatpants. I could not find any of my sweats, and I was very confused because I had just folded and put them away. So of course the alternative were these tiny shorts that I never actually wear because they exaggerate my bottom area.

Given the fact that I hadn’t gotten laid all week, I was not a happy camper. So, I decided to play some music via headphones while doing my house duties. I figured this was a way to tune everything out and have a valid reason not to speak to Ian.

I was cleaning the den when I felt myself being watched, but I paid it no mind because I was listening to one of my favorite songs. I was in the process of picking toys up and putting them away when I felt a hand slide up my thigh. It was Ian, of course. I gave him the side eye and continued what I was doing. He approached me again, this time sliding my headphones off.

“What’s up? Are you mad at me?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “I’m just cleaning.”

Then he hugged me around my waist and said, “I know you’re mad at me, babe.”

“No, I’m fine,” I lied.

“I know you’re mad. You didn’t make any breakfast this morning. You only do that when you’re mad at me. So tell me, what did I do?”

“Nothing,” I lied, again.

I was not about to confess that I was mad because I was horny. Nope, not me. Not only that, at that moment I was filled with pride. I was always the one dishing the frustration, how could this be? I refused to let him know that I was at all affected by this.

Ian took my hand and led me over to the couch where he sat me on his lap.

“I know why you’re mad at me,” he said.

“Enlighten me because I’m not mad.”

“Just tell me why you’re mad, and we can resolve it right now.”

“Look, I’m not mad. I just think it’s annoying that you’ve been playing me all week. But it’s cool. I’ll be fine,” I confessed.

He chuckled, “I haven’t been playing you, babe.”

“Then what exactly are you doing?” I asked with an attitude in my voice.

He laughed.

“Can I finish cleaning? I don’t feel like having this conversation with you right now,” I said.

He hugged me and laughed again. “No. I’m not letting you go. You’re gonna sit here until you stop being mad at me.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes.

“You know I love when you wear those shorts, right?” he asked, “You haven’t worn them in so long I thought I’d create an opportunity for you to do so today.”

I shook my head. He hid my sweatpants; I knew it.

“Then I also thought, ‘Why not play one of those games she plays with me all the time?’ You know, the waiting game? That’s what this is, right? Hmmm. I think it’s fun. Honestly. I might do this again.”

“Wow,” I said

“The look on your face is priceless. I’ve been watching you all week. You’ve been mad all week. I like it when you’re mad, though. It’s sexy.”

“Wow!” was all I could say.

“You see how well orchestrated this is? This is how you play. See normally you’d have the upper hand by now, but you don’t.”

“Well played,” I said. Then I broke free from his embrace to walk away, but he was quick. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me back onto the couch.

“Where are you going? We’re not done playing,” he said.

“That’s the thing; I was never playing. And I’m not playing right now either. So let me go back to what I was doing, which is cleaning,” I said annoyed.

“If you’re not playing, explain why you’re wearing those shorts? You played right into my hand whether you like it or not.”

I sat there with my arms folded, feeling defeated, when he moved closer to me and started kissing on me. I brushed him off twice, but he didn’t let me stop him. He kept kissing me all over, and pretty soon I was super wet. He could feel it through my shorts.

He stood up and pulled me up with him, and we kept kissing. As we kissed, I started taking his pants off, but he kept stopping me. Ugh, such a tease. I was anxious. I wanted him, but he was still playing this stupid “game”. At least by now I would have let him have me. He was not playing fair at all. I was completely undressed, he took all of my clothes off, but he was still dressed. Tease. He was hard, so I didn’t understand.

“Stop playing and give it to me,” I whispered.

“When I’m ready,” he said.

“Come on,” I whined. “Stop playing with me.”

“No,” he said.

He laid me on the couch and was kissing me from head to toe. But every time I thought he was going to eat me he moved back up. He even went as far as licking it once but never ate it. It was torture. I could not take it anymore. This torture went on for another few minutes when he finally pulled his dick out and aggressively stuck it in me.

“This is what you wanted right?” he asked.

“Oh my… yes,” I moaned.

He satisfied every unmet need from that whole week. I had an immediate orgasm.

I could tell that waiting made him frustrated too because he was very aggressive. He was deep inside of me. I tried pushing him out a little, but he kept moving my hand.

The last time I attempted to push him out, he moved my hand and said, “Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“Yes. But you’re too deep,” I whimpered.

He pushed my legs all the way back and went even deeper. I did not expect that. It was uncomfortable, but it felt fantastic. I didn’t know whether to try to push him out again or just take it. I was in a state of conflicted pleasure. He was pounding me until he released maybe the biggest load ever inside of me.

We laid there for maybe an hour. I was exhausted.  I was thankful that the den was the last room I had to clean because all I wanted to do was sleep. He wore me out.

Now, today I sit here thinking that there is no doubt in my mind that I got pregnant that day. Maybe if I had just not cleaned and not worn those shorts, I wouldn’t be expecting. He won, and I guess this is his trophy. And I can’t wait to meet my firstborn.

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28 replies
  1. CMLove says:

    Ash! So excited for you guys! Congrats! What a sweet gift from God! I loved your line “conflicted pleasure” haha! I have had that feeling many times! Thank you so much for sharing! Looking forward to hearing more from you!

  2. Hopeful Hubby says:

    First of all congrats, but all through the story I couldn’t stop laughing because I can swear that I was reading a story about me and my wife I pull these tricks sometimes too. Which leads to awesome sex

    • cameron says:

      Well we are all so happy for you!!! It is weird how much love you can have for a baby, then again I guess it was love that made it.

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