ROOM SERVICE
By
Michael Shuler
Wendy tried finding something on TV that was
interesting. She found nothing. Pressing the remote, she tossed
it on the nightstand and sat up, reaching for Darrel's coveted
black suitcase. She pulled it onto the bed with a grunt of
effort, then sat with her hand on her pregnant stomach as she
opened the sacred suitcase and took out some of Darrel's
magazines. What trash, she thought as she spread them out on the
bed. Big Ones? Hell, she qualified for that. Her breasts were
growing enormous. Darrel planned on making lots of money when he
returned to the states. British porno mags were big in
America.
"You fucking asshole," she swore to herself as she
slapped the pages roughly aside one at a time.
"If you knew I couldn't ski, then why in the hell
did you plan a ski trip?" she continued. Her voice echoed in the
empty room. She stopped briefly, looking at a beautiful, young,
and non-pregnant girl in the magazine. He was off to Serre
Chevalier, supposedly one of the places where James Bond skied.
Who the fuck cared? How could he leave her in the Hotel
Manchester alone on their anniversary? She decided to call his
cell phone again. It annoyed him no end to be called while on
the slope. Good, it served the bastard right.
"Hello?"
"Darrel?"
"Now what, darling?"
"I'm lonely," Wendy said in her saddest, little
girl voice.
"Wendy, darling, call somebody will you. I will
be back in two days, you know that. Right now I'm at the top of
the slope, ready to swish down."
"Who should I call?"
"I don't know," he said, growing annoyed again.
Wendy smiled and looked at the ceiling. "Call your mother, or
better yet, call a tour guide and see London. You've always
wanted too."
"I wanted to see it with you."
"You will, just as soon as I get back. Now please
go away and do something," he said, breaking the connection.
Wendy thumbed through a few more pages in the
magazine. She suddenly realized that the lewd sluts in the
magazines were making her horny. Dam her hormones, she was
turning into a lesbian. Well why not, the girls were really
pretty and she wouldn't mind going down on them. Just once.
Wendy picked up the phone and called the front
desk.
"Hello, do you have a tour guide or something down
there?"
"No," he said in a snobbish voice. Wendy gave the
phone the finger, then tried to talk as sweetly as possible.
"I'm Wendy Sipes, in the bridal sweet."
"I know that madame, I can see you on the
switchboard."
"You can?" Wendy asked, horrified. She was
wearing a skimpy top and thong.
"No madame, I can see the light on my switchboard.
It tells me which room is calling.
"Oh. Well I'm bored. Can you help?"
"In what way?" he asked at the height of
snobbishness.
"Do you have anyone who would like to fuck a
pregnant woman on your staff?" she demanded, tired of his
sarcasm.
"One moment, I'll check," he said, covering the
phone. Wendy stared at her phone in horror. In a moment the
snob came back on. "Yes ma'am, we have several. What are you
looking for?" he asked in all seriousness.
"Somebody young, athletic, and blonde," Wendy said
with a slight giggle, which she knew he would disapprove of.
"He'll be right up," the clerk said and hung
up.
"Oh fuck," Wendy gasped, replacing the phone.
What had she done? What would she do if the guy really showed
up? He did. There was a knock on the door, and a young man
walked into the room. Wendy did not have time to cover her half-
nakedness.
"Hi," he said, approaching the bed with a winning
smile.
After looking him over, she didn't want too cover up. She
wasn't a lesbian after all. She craved a hard, throbbing cock
more than anything right now. And this young man certainly had
one.
"Are you a bellboy?" she asked in amazement.
"No, I'm just a bloke who happened to be hanging
around downstairs. Ok, I'll come clean. My uncle manages this
dump. I hang out and look for action occasionally. I saw you
and your husband come in. He just dropped you off."
"He's skiing in France."
"Bloody hell," the boy said, approaching the bed.
"You're a beauty aren't you?"
"I used to be," Wendy said, standing on her knees
and patting her pregnant stomach. She walked closer to the boy
and put her arms around his neck. "Do you really want to fuck
me?" she asked seductively?
"Oh yeah," he said with sincerity. He stepped
even closer and put his hands on her hips. Her skin shivered
under his touch. Her nipples stood out through the silky
material of her nightshirt.
She kissed him soundly and he responded with an
intensity that surprised her.
He pushed her back on the bed and continued the
kiss, while his hands roamed freely over her body. She reveled
in the intensity of his advances. Darrel was quiet and reserved,
even in lovemaking. Nobody had ever taken her with such
ferocity. She liked it.
He broke the kiss and sat up, looking down at her.
His eyes went from head to toe and back again. "You are so
fucking beautiful," he said. "You kind of glow, like those women
on the old movies on TV."
"Thanks," she smiled up at him. She struggled up
until she was reclining on her hands, waiting for his next move.
Her tits jiggled as she moved.
While she was sitting up, he pulled her top off
over her head. He grabbed her thong and she lifted her ass so he
could pull that off as well.
"Beautiful," he said again.
"Thanks. I really don't feel too beautiful right
now."
"But your are," he said, his eyes traveling over
her naked body.
"Do those have milk?" he asked suddenly, nodding
toward her breasts.
"What?" she laughed.
"Got milk?" he smiled.
"Yes, actually, I do. I started lactating several
weeks ago."
"I've always dreamed of making love to a pregnant
woman, to a mother. But most of all, I have fantasized about
drinking milk straight from a woman's breasts. Do you mind?"
"I don't think you will like it," Wendy said,
fascinated by the prospect. "Sure, you can try," she said
quietly. With a big smile he bent down and sealed his lips over
her left nipple. He had to suck for several minutes before the
milk began to flow. She gave little cries as his mouth
stimulated the flow of milk. It actually hurt at first, but soon
turned into a warm glow. She put her hand on the back of his
head, as he drank greedily, almost silently. She suddenly had a
glimmer of how erotic it was for him. She wouldn't mind trying
it herself. In fact when they grew a bit she would try. She had
seen pregnant women drinking their own milk. Now she understood
the fascination it held for them.
Wendy relaxed, letting the warm glow of his lips
milking her dry, flow through her body. There was something very satisfying,
very seductive about the way he slowly drained her breast. She
had been wrong, he obviously did like it. She felt the breast
actually drain into his greedy mouth over a ten minute period.
He sat up with a warm smile.
"Fabulous," he said in a dreamy voice. "It's all
I dreamed it would be... Do you mind if I try another," he pointed at her
right breast.
"No, not at all," she laughed, offering her breast
up to his lips. He sniffed her breast first, like an alcoholic sniffing
a fine wine. Then he began licking her breast until he finally reached
the stiffened nipple.
He began nursing until drank that breast dry too, then
sat up smacking his
lips. "Good," he said enthusiastically. "A little like
condensed milk, and a little like cedar cheese."
"I'm glad you liked it," Wendy laughed. "Now if
you could remove your clothes, I would like to do a little
sucking myself.
"Oh hell yes," he said, ripping off his clothes.
He soon fell to the bed and laid looking up at her. He ran his
eyes over her amazing body again, as she laid beside him and took
his cock into her hand. It felt very warm and soft around him.
Suddenly her lips touched his cock and he hissed and
stiffened.
"Oh that's fabulous," he gasped. "Keep doing just
what you are doing."
Wendy had his cock in her mouth, swishing it
around inside and tickling it with her tongue. As he grew she
sucked the head of his cock while stroking the shaft. He moaned
and rolled on the bed.
"Oh lord, that's enough," he gasped, shooting up
off the bed. "If you keep going I'm going to shoot my load."
Wendy stopped sucking and laid back. He surged up
off the bed and fell between her legs. In seconds he was
feasting on her sweet, hairless mound. She fed her pussy up to
his eager mouth, moaning and rolling her head. She felt briefly
guilty about letting another man eat her pussy, but the thought
of Darrel skiing made her clench her teeth in anger. Let the
son-of-a-bitch ski, she would fuck.
"Oh fuck, that feels so damned good," she
whispered. "Darrel hardly ever goes down on me any more. He has
a million excuses, from a bad back to too close to my period.
It's always something."
"The bloody idiot doesn't know what he's missing,"
the boy said, licking his lips. He kissed her pussy playfully,
then slid his tongue up inside her. He could tell that she was
ready. She was moaning and rolling on the bed.
He sat up on his knees and positioned his cock at
her pussy.
"Hey, I'm not going to be hitting the kid in the
head down there, am I?" he asked in all seriousness.
"No baby has ever been born with a dimple in his
head," she laughed, pulling him forward. He laughed and slid his
cock down into her waiting pussy. She cried out, thrusting her
pussy against him. He began banging away like a jackhammer.
Normally she would have resented such treatment, but at the
moment it was exactly what she wanted. She responded immediately
to his thrusts. His pelvis slapped against her pussy, mashing
her flesh out of shape. The wet sound of her pussy flesh being
struck was very erotic.
"Should... should I pull out when I cum," he
gasped as he stroked away in her pussy.
"Why, silly, I'm already pregnant."
"Oh yeah," he laughed, then closed his eyes and
shuddered.
"Oh fuck," he said as his cock began spewing cum
into her inviting cunt.
"Yes," she gasped, rubbing herself to an orgasm
with her finger. She bucked and bounced against him. He hissed
as his sensitive member took an unexpected ride in her pussy. He
ground his teeth together and endured it until she too finished
and lay panting.
"Wow, that was really great," he said, falling to
the bed beside her. "So how long until those things fill up
again?" he nodded toward her breasts as he pulled on his
shorts.
"About five hours I think," she said, kissing him
on the cheek. He slowly finished dressing. He stopped long
enough to run a hand over her distended stomach. "I'll be back
then," he said, jumping to his feet and leaving. She watched him
go then lay back on the bed laughing. She kicked her feet on the
mattress, and belatedly remembered his precious magazines. She
swept them into the suitcase and rolled it off on the floor. Let
the bastard ski, if he wanted too, she would ride.