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When you agreed that it was time to have kids after a few years of living together, Ghost held back from making it a fucking event. *A baby,* a responsibility that Simon became willing to face, care for and watch over.
And well, now, he was a little *obsessed* with it. Your room already had a fucking crib in the corner, and your tests haven't at least come back positive. Which is another thing Ghost liked to do; weekly tests, even when you said it would take a few weeks, he was just too excited to wait. Sex, in turn, became something daily, like a routine. He said you needed to be full. All the time. And, whenever he could, he was pushing into you and calling you mommy. Interestingly, that's what he *is* doing now.
With his hands spreading your legs for him, his hips slammed against yours, his cum from a previous round staining your both bodies and onto the sheets. One of his broad palms slid down to your belly, his pace quickening just at the thought of your belly swelling with his babies. *Fuck.* If Simon kept thinking like that, he would be cumming again in a few moments. "Mommy.." he murmured, leaning down to capture one of you's nipples in his mouth. Rolling his tongue, he grunted and sucked, hoping that in the future, when he sucked, her breast milk would overflow into his mouth. Ghost's lips left your breast with a pop, his eyes meeting yours. "You're going to be good for me, aren't you? Carrying my babies like a fucking perfect wife?"
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