pregnancy denial, in that I'm denying him any knowledge of what he's carrying
My bodyguard is always eager to be blindfolded and pumped full of something. And the blindfold returns for every exam, so even though I make him take a test twice a week, do ultrasounds before he even shows, he won't know whether it took until he starts to swell.
And once he does, I can't stop feeling his belly; cupping it in my hand, stroking with both hands, whispering teasing things in his ear, Look at how quickly you're growing. Wonder how many are in there. How long do you still have to go, do you think? Oh, did you feel some movement? while he bucks his hips, desperate for any friction.
These days, he gets wet as soon as I bring the blindfold out. I wonder if I can train him to come just from the feeling of the wand on his slick belly, of not knowing what he's carrying even though it's totally laid bare in this moment.
I do know, and so I'm not even looking at the screen. I'm looking at him, watching him shake and pant, seeing his vulnerable throat bob as he swallows uneasily, because I ran one teasing fingertip up the slick inside of his thigh.
I tell him we'll rinse his belly off in the baths, and I don't take his blindfold off until he's in the water. He looks dazed, eyes heavy-lidded, whole body flushed.
I push his chest and he complies without thinking, laying back in the shallow water so I can straddle him, my legs bracketing his sides, leaning over him so he has to look up at me. I'm running my hands over his belly, his thighs, cupping his groin in my hand. He gasps in surprise when I curl my fingers inside of him, but it's the sudden kick in his newly showing belly that sends him over the edge.
