The curve of her belly under the thin sund dress made my cock twitch. Six months pregnant with my dad’s kid, and all I could think about was sliding my tongue between her thighs. Samantha caught me staring, a slow smile spreading as she smoothed a hand over her swollen mound.

“Like what you see, baby?” she murmured, stepping closer.

I reached out, palm ghosting over the taut skin. Her hips pushed into my touch. “You’re so ripe, so full. Want to taste every inch.”

She guided my hand lower, to the slick heat between her legs. Her pussy was already wet, juices staining the thin cotton. I knelt, pulling her sundress up over her head. Those heavy tits, dark nipples peaked, hung low. I took one in my mouth, sucking deep as she gasped, her fingers tangling in my hair.

“You’re going to make me drip, you dick-hungry bastard,” she growled, spreading her legs wider.

I buried my face between

her thighs, licking her slit from clit to hole. She was sweet, hot, swollen. My tongue fucked her deep, then circled her clit until she cried out, her cream flooding my chin.

“Now, baby. Gag that steppe-cock in my gash,” she ordered, bending over the kitchen counter.

I couldn’t wait. I pressed my tip against her cunt—she was so slick the shaft slid in halfway. The feel of that tight, wet void made me groan. Her ripe belly pressed against the counter. I pumped slow at first, then hard, our hips slapping as I fucked her raw. Each thrust squeezed my cock through