#beefro beefcal

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As soon as you showed Frankie the positive pregnancy test, he wanted to scream from the rooftops that he was gonna be a dad. He was downright elated and ready to tell everyone, but respected your request to wait until it was officially confirmed by your doctor.  

You booked your appointment for an afternoon later that week and both of you took the day off work. 

Even though you could have slept in, you found yourself wide awake with excitement. You rolled over and snuggled into Frankie’s side causing his gentle snoring to subside. He moved his arm, allowing you to snuggle in closer. 

“Morning, mama.”, he croaked.  

“Morning, daddy.”, you crooned back, nuzzling your face in him. 

You laid there quietly for a moment, only the sounds of your steady breaths breaking the silence. Then Frankie rolled towards you, pushing you onto your back, his hand gently rubbing circles on your stomach.  

“Gonna make sure there’s a baby in there today.”, he smiled, pressing a kiss to your neck.  

You smiled back, letting out a happy sigh, and out your hand on top of his. “Yup. But I’m pretty sure there is.” 

You could feel Frankie’s morning wood pressing up against your thigh and you knew where he was going with this morning cuddle session. As if on cue, Frankie began sliding his hand from your stomach into your sleep shorts while planting kisses along your neck and jaw.  

“You look so good, mama… love you like this… wet and ready for me…”, he cooed, dipping his fingers into your folds.  

You let out a few small moans, then gasped as he plunged a finger in. “Fuck… yeah… you’re so ready for me already, princess…”, he grunted, starting to push a second in. 

You were whimpering his name along with other unintelligible words while he slowly pumped in and out of you and grinded his hard on against you, grunting. As you were just starting to feel that telltale coil begin to wind up, he removed his hands, and grunted at you, “Take of your shorts… can’t wait…” 

Sleepy Frankie didn’t tease or shy away from anything when he wanted you; he was to the point. 

You removed your shorts as he did his, stroking his cock a few times, then he crawled on top of you, situating himself between your legs. He lined up himself with your entrance and pushed in slowly, you let out a gasp and he whispered into your ear. “That’s it, mama… there you go... fuck, feel so good…” 

He started out at a slow, gentle pace, with an arm around your shoulder and the other on your thigh, pulled up to his hip. Again, the only sounds being both your breathing. As much as you loved when Frankie railed you on the various surfaces of your house, this was your favourite. This was so much more intimate, and you knew in these moments that you had his heart and he had yours.  

He kissed your neck and pushed himself up on his elbow so he could see your face, his other hand still on your thigh. You smiled at him and he back at you both breathing in time with each thrust. The look he gave you asked if you were ready for him, and you nodded. He pressed his forehead to yours and picked up the pace, and your breathing turned to little whimpers and cries. Frankie loved that sound. He smiled through closed eyes and gritted teeth as you continued his favourite music. 

That coil was now wound up tight, waiting for its cue to push you over the edge. Frankie could feel it and pulled the hand from you hip, two fingers going to your clit and rubbing circles. You cried out, head flung back, and Frankie watched you plummet. 

Your walls squeezed him, forcing his orgasm and he came a few beats after you.  

Frankie stayed on top for a moment for you both to catch your breath, then kissed you.  

“I fucking love you, Mouse.” 

I fucking love you, too, Frankie.” 

The pregnancy was confirmed that afternoon, and you felt your eyes get glassy while Frankie openly sobbed next to you as you looked at the tiny bean on the grainy ultrasound screen. 

***** 

You told Benny, Will and Hannah first. You’d arrived at Will and Hannah’s house for dinner, and before you even got your coat off or could be sick from the smell of caramelized onions, Frankie blurted it out at Hannah when she went to give you a welcoming hug. 

“Hey Mouse!!", she said, pulling you into a hug, noticing your swallowing a little harder as the smell hit your nose. 

“Careful, Hannah. She might spew on you… her nose has been super sensitive since got preg-”, Frankie stopped himself and looked at you wide eyed. 

The whole room went silent, save for the sounds of food cooking in the kitchen, and Will stared at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. 

You couldn’t handle the tension and looked at Will, then said in a sheepish voice, “Surprise!”  

“You’re… you’re pregnant?!”, Benny yelled, excitedly and slapping his hand on Frankie’s back. “Way to go, Fish!” 

Hannah squealed and pulled you into a hug, but you could only watch Will. His eyes looked a little sad and he’d yet to say anything. 

Hannah let you go and went to hug Frankie, and Benny came bounding over to you, pulling you into a hug that, for Benny, would be considered gentle. 

When he finally let you go, Will walked up to you and pulled you into a big hug. You felt his breathing change and shudder a bit.  

“Awe, Mouse… this is amazing, sweetie…”, he says, his voice sounding quiet, like he was trying to hold himself together. 

“Will, don’t start…”, you said, your lip trembling and your eyes watering. 

He pulled back and grabbed your head, pushing a kiss to your forehead. He wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, looking at Frankie. 

He stuck his hand out and when Frankie went to shake it, he pulled him into a hug. 

You managed to get through the night without being sick, at least until you got home.  

***** 

The first trimester was rough. Morning sickness hit you like a ton of bricks and was not just relegated to morning. You managed to lose weight from being so ill, but the doctor was confident that it would pass once you got to the second trimester. You kept your fluids up, and Frankie took over making food to the best of his abilities. 

One issue with him being in charge of the food was... well, Frankie overseeing the food. It wasn't that he was a bad cook, but he pretty well stuck to frozen meals and quick things that he enjoyed, and given that he was stressed about you, he overindulged most nights, and whatever you didn’t eat, he did.  By the time you were midway through month four, Frankie was happily eating as though he were the pregnant one.  

You finally started to feel like yourself again in month four, minus the fatigue, so he’s suggested a date night. You were getting ready in your ensuite, standing in a bralette and your panties in front of your mirror, applying your eyeliner. 

“Hey mama...”, Frankie said huskily, his eyes trailing down your body; he stopped at your stomach. A little bit more there than before. He smiled, “Now look at that.” 

“Hmm?”, you questioned, looking at him through the mirror.  

His grin was wide, and he stood behind you, his hand going to your stomach. He splayed his big hand wide on it and kissed your neck and murmured, “I see a bump.” 

You leaned back into him and smiled. The whole notion of you being pregnant made Frankie soft in the best way; he was warm and gentle, and so very hands on with you. You loved it, as long as your mood swings allowed it. 

“You sure you wanna take me out on that date, daddy?”, you cooed, your eyes catching his in the mirror. 

“Fuck, don’t tempt me, mama…”, growls as he kisses your neck.  

You didn’t make it to the restaurant, let alone out of your bedroom. 

**** 

Your baby bump had popped finally in month five, or around the 22-week mark. Despite you having had it checked, and checked again, there was only one baby in there, although the doctor did admit it looked like a big baby. While the rest of your smaller frame stayed the same size, your belly reminded everyone and their dog that you were pregnant. You had some insecurities about how your body was changing, especially when getting weighed at the doctors, but you tried to keep yourself in check. 

Frankie had told you that his family had a history of big babies. His abuela had told the story about how for each one of her pregnancies, the midwife thought she would be having twins, but each time, there was just one baby. This story, while sweet, made you feel less than confident.  

But Frankie loved it; he couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off your belly. Whether in the grocery store, cooking dinner, sleeping, watching TV, he had his eyes and hands on you, and while you loved him, your insecurities and mood swings sometimes reared their ugly heads at inopportune moments.  

Like today. Today was a hard day. You hadn’t slept well, and work had been particularly grueling, leaving you filled with unbridled, hormonal rage at the smallest inconvenience. That on top of the already insecure feelings you had about your changing body. Even though you were supposed to gain weight to support a healthy pregnancy, every time you weighed yourself, your old body issues would come out and cause you to cringe at the escalating number; just as you had started to have a good relationship with your body, you ended up pregnant and had no idea it would affect you so much. 

He could hear you swearing and cursing at the currently cooking dinner in the kitchen; the tell-tale signs of one of your tantrums beginning, and Frankie smiled. 

“Fuck… what you do to me, princess…”, he groaned, walking into the kitchen and seeing you cook dinner while he palmed his crotch. 

“Jesus, Francisco! I’m making you fucking dinner!”, you snapped, frustrated by the package of pasta not opening easily. “Do I look like I want you to try and fuck me?” 

You were standing in the kitchen, wearing a shirt that was fitted before you were pregnant and a pair of leggings. You were flushed and sweaty, hair up in a messy bun, belly popping out from under the shirt, while standing in front of a pot of boiling water. 

“No… but you look so fucking tempting…”, he groaned again, walking towards you slowly. He knew when you were temperamental like this, he could usually coax you into a better mood by sweet talking to you, or, better yet, making you come.  

“Don’t you fucking dare…”, you growled at him, turning towards him, bag of pasta in your hands. 

“Oof, princess… the mouth on you today…”, Frankie purred with a grin, getting closer slowly. 

You scrunched your nose and scowled at him as he got closer. “Francisco Morales! I am warning you!” 

“That’s my name, princess…”, he growled with a grin, licking his lips. He loved it when you got into one of your moods – the result being far more satisfying. “Come on, baby… let daddy make mama feel good.” 

You gave him a furious glare as he stood in front of you and huffed at him. He grinned, reached his hand out and took the bag of pasta from your hands then gently pulled it open. He kept his eyes on you, still grinning, and placed the pasta bag on the counter and reached over to turn off the burner for the boiling pot.  

“Come here, mama…”, he cooed, one large hand splaying on your belly and the other cupping the back of your neck, pulling him towards you. “Gonna help you relax…” 

Your temper was getting the best of you, and you tried to push him back with a scowl on your face, but Frankie stayed firm and pulled you into him further. 

“None of that, mama... I’m trying to make you feel better, baby... let me take care of you.”, he cooed as he placed kisses on your neck and jaw.  

You huffed in resignation at the fact that it really did feel good to have him lavish this attention on you after the day you’d had. You could feel your muscles relax as his hands caressed your back and sides. 

“There you go, mama... just relax and let me take care of you...” 

The gentle touches and the soothing vibrations of his voice nicked your heart, and you went from feeling loved to feeling guilt. You despised who you became with these mood swings and how you treated your sweet, gentle Frankie. You could feel the lump in your throat and the tears stinging your eyes.  

“Do you hate me yet?”, you questioned in a whisper, burying your face in his chest. 

Frankie was taken aback, and while his hands stayed on your back, they stopped moving, now almost gripping you like he was trying to stop you from slipping away. 

“What? Wh – Mouse! What?”, he retorted in a surprised and almost offended tone. He pulled you back to look at him, and you kept your head low. 

“I… I just…” The words you so desperately wanted to say were lost, and you made the mistake of looking up and seeing Frankie’s eye boring back into yours. Hurt and pain and confusion screaming from them. 

“Why would you ever ask me that?”, he demanded in a hurt voice. 

“I-I’m just so… so bad at… at this.”, you cried quietly. 

“At what? I don’t understand, honey. What are you bad at, baby?” He was begging you to let him in, his voice filled with fear. Fear of the words you didn’t know how to tell him: that you didn’t love him anymore; that you wanted to break up; that you thought he would be a lousy father like his dad. 

When you didn’t respond, he begged again, eyes searching yours while his tears threatened to drop. “Please. Please, baby… talk to me, Mouse.” 

You shook your head, trying to find the resolve to tell him what was breaking you, but all you could muster to say in a quiet and pathetic voice was, “I’m just so bad at... at being pregnant.” 

Frankie let out a relieved breath he didn’t know he was holding and couldn’t help the small, sweet smile that slowly grew on his face. He pulled you into him again. His arms held you in a warm, safe hug while he murmured soft words of love and praise to you. 

He let you go so he could see your face, your belly still snuggly up against him, holding your hands. “You’re not bad at being pregnant.” 

One hand went your swollen middle and he rubbed tenderly with his thumb. “It’s gotta be hard on you and I know you’re struggling, princess. You’re growing a fucking human in you, and I can see this taking it’s toll on you. I want to help you in any way that I can, but you need to talk to me, baby. I can’t do what I am supposed to do, what I need to do and what I want to do for you if you don’t talk to me.” 

You nodded with your eyes cast down and stayed quiet for a moment to collect your thoughts while Frankie looked at you, silently encouraging you to speak. When you did, it was between small sobs and sniffles. 

“I just don’t feel good about… about me. I feel gross and fat, and this is the time I’m supposed to feel the best and I don’t… and I feel like I’m not… good enough. I feel like because I’m so out of control with my emotions, that I’m burdening you… And I feel… I feel sad. And guilty and angry… at myself for it. It’s like a horrible cycle I can’t break out of.” 

Sensing Frankie desperately wanting to interject, you continued, “And I know our priority is that the baby is healthy. I get that and I agree, and I know it’s all about the baby. Baby is number one and I just need to get over it. I know it’s stupid to feel this way… but I just want to be… good.” 

You finally looked up to meet Frankie’s eyes, and what you saw startled you. No judgement or anger. Just sadness. 

His eyes were glassy, and he sniffled as he nodded. “No, Mouse. Please listen to me. You’re my priority. You are. Please tell me you know that. You’re going to make me a dad – I don’t take that gift lightly. Don’t you dare say you just need to get over it like it’s nothing. It’s not nothing and you’re not nothing. You’re mine and I love you so fucking much. The baby is your number one, but you.”, he reached up and held your face in his big hands, “You’re my number one and the reason I bust my ass each day at work. The reason I am here.” 

All you could do was nod while tears streamed down both your faces.  

“I can’t stress it enough how much you don’t deserve the grief you’re giving yourself, Mouse. I knew you weren’t feeling great, so I wanted to help you feel better, but baby… I didn’t know it was like this for you. Baby, I’m sorry.” He wiped his eyes and continued. “You’re not gross, you’re fucking stunning and beautiful and sexy and strong… and I’m sorry that I haven’t done more to help you see that.” 

You shook your head and tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but he cut you off.  

“I’ll move fucking mountains if it means you’re happy.” He took your hands in his and kissed your knuckles, then said quietly, “I have one fucking job: Dad is supposed to make sure that Mom is happy. That’s my job and it’s a hell of a lot easier than yours. But you gotta tell me what you need, mama.” 

You sighed and gave a real smile for the first time in what felt like weeks, then nodded. 

“One of the pregnancy books I read said that this can happen and that sometimes hormones can make mood swings and body issues worse and…“ 

“Wait - you read a pregnancy book?”, you interrupted, almost amused by the admission. 

“Well, yeah. I did. I didn’t know what was going on or what I could do to help. A customer was in the shop, and she asked about you… she suggested this book and I picked it up that day after work and…” 

Frankie noted your stunned expression and gave a small grin. “It’s in my locker at work… I read it at lunch.” 

“Oh Frankie… I’m…”, your voice cracked at you tried to speak, feeling the emotions welling up and attempting to make you feel back about his efforts going unnoticed, but you pushed them down. 

“You’re so insanely sweet. Thank you.”, you smiled. 

You leaned in and gave him a kiss, saying again against his mouth, “Thank you.” 

That was all it took for the dam to break, for you to open up and talk to Frankie about what was going on, he in turn shared what he was feeling. That evening, you both agreed that a daily check in when you got home from work was going to be the way you moved forward. 

***** 

By 26 weeks, your insecurities had not abandoned you as your belly grew, but you were far more open about how felt to Frankie and he was ever ready to offer support and praise and compliments. By this time, you were able to eat and sleep better, you felt better, and it helped that Frankie had slipped back into his old habits. He had started to fill out again, with his belly, again, bearing the brunt of it. You were more than pleased.  

Your second trimester was filled with food, mainly consumed by Frankie, and fucking. Your body grew, like it was supposed to, and Frankie worshipped it.  

But what really took over was your insatiable libido. Your body had become so sensitive and responsive to everything Frankie did; from a goodbye kiss in the morning or him accidentally grazing his leg against you in his sleep to him knowing how to quickly get you where he wanted so he could fuck you senseless. He almost felt in over his head with your need for him. 

Early Sunday morning, your body woke you to pee. After going to the washroom and climbing back into bed, Frankie rolled over and in a sleepy haze, pulled you into a spoon with him. His hand on your belly and just the feeling of him up against you set fireworks off and your body felt like it would explode if Frankie didn’t do something to make that tension release.  

“Frankie…”, you cooed, involuntarily rubbing your thighs together.  

“Hmmm?”, Frankie hummed, barely awake. 

“Frankie… please…”, you begged, voice dripping with need. 

He knew that tone; when you said his name that way he knew what you needed. And as of late, you needed it a lot.  

“Really? Seriously now?”, he groaned. Frankie wasn’t a morning person, especially on weekends. Morning sex with Frankie after 9 am was sweet and wonderful. Morning sex with Frankie at this god forsaken hour – 5:26 am to be exact – was probably going to be gruff, and a little clumsy, and oh so satisfyingly to the point. 

You rolled over on your back, his hand remaining on your swollen middle. “Please Frankie… I need you. Now.”, you whined, knowing you were going to get your way. 

“So bossy… so fucking needy, princess.”, he cooed with eyes stilled closed, his hand moving down your belly as you opened your legs. He slid down and cupped your heat, pressing a finger into your clothed folds. You gasped and bucked your hips. 

“So sensitive… god fucking damnit.”, Frankie grunted as he moved to kneel next to you. You noted his hard on in his boxers as he pulled your panties off.  

“Take your top off. You wake me up for this, I get to see your tits.”, he grunted with a grin, eyes barely open.  

“Where do you want me, baby?”, you keened, feeling your body aching for anything he would give you. 

He let out a shaky breath at your words, pulling his boxers down the pumping his hard cock. “On your hands and knees baby.”, he says, swatting at you to get moving. Your belly was more and more in the way of your standard position, and currently, riding him was not the most comfortable for you and your body issues. 

Doing as he said, you maneuvered yourself and eagerly waited for him to just push into you. But instead, he ran two fingers through your dripping, puffy cunt, then plunging them in, forcing a high-pitched whine from you. 

“Good girl… fuck… your so fucking needy… Jesus… you’re sucking my fingers in…”, he crooned as he pumped in and out of you.  

You could feel your orgasm hurling itself to fruition then exploding with no warning. Crying out, Frankie kept the pace, his breath increasing as his own need skyrocketed. 

“Oh fuck… you’re coming already?... fuck yeah, baby… yeah, princess… come on, mama…”, Frankie panted as he worked you through your orgasm. 

Just as you started to come down though, he removed his fingers then lined his hard cock with your entrance and pushed in. You thought your arms and legs were going to give out under you as Frankie began to pound into you.  

You cried out, begging in nonsensical words and phrases for him to keep going. 

“Oh fuck… oh fuck… so fucking warm for me, mama… fuck you’re close again… oh shit… yeah… come on baby… I got you… come on… yeah…”, he mumbled in a sleepy timber.  

You felt your walls start to flutter, and a sensation you hadn’t felt in a while began to burn white hot through your lower belly. 

“Fra… Frankie… fuck… I-I’m gonna… “, you cried out. 

Frankie pounded into you and felt a gush of liquid come out of you, soaking him, you and the bed underneath. If he wasn’t quite awake before, he was now. His drive kicked into high gear and his thrusts became more intense while he reached around you, moving his middle finger onto your clit, rubbing circles. 

“Oh fuck! Fucking soaked me…. Can you do it again? Come on, mama… give me another one... you can do it…”, he howled as his hips continued to push you further. 

You couldn’t even respond as you felt another tight coil threaten to break you apart; all you could go was cry out and pant over the vulgar squelching of Frankie fucking into you.  

With a shriek, your cunt clenched down on him and your body convulsed as your third orgasm of the morning ripped through you. This pushed Frankie to come in your tight, quaking heat while a growl erupted from his mouth. 

He pulled you down to your side along with him and kissed your shoulders. Your breath was ragged as you let out whimpers, and your limbs shook. 

“Good girl… fuck… you did so good, mama. Yeah, come back down, baby… shhhh… did so good for me…”, Frankie cooed between his own laboured breathing while his hand rested on your middle, feeling the baby moving in your belly. 

Your breathing evened out, and you let out a chuckle at the movement in you. “Frankie?”, you asked quietly. 

“Hmmm?” 

“We woke the baby.” 

You both laughed as Frankie got up to get a cloth for your clean up. 

***** 

At 34 weeks, you were done being pregnant. You were all belly by this point and your back ached along with every other body part that had to work harder to accommodate your girth. One highlight though was because you were truly eating for two, Frankie had begun his old habits again. At first, when you had a craving, whatever it was and no matter how strange, Frankie would make it happen for you. Now, your middle-of-the-night wants for burgers or pasta or strawberry ice cream with pickles in it, Frankie joined in. Most nights, Frankie went to sleep with a stuffed belly, out eating you at every turn. 

Benny was competing in a championship tournament and Friday night was the big fight. Although Frankie had attended some fights as of late, you’d opted to stay in, not feeling good enough to stand in a loud, packed arena. But Benny had called you himself and begged you to come watch his big fight, saying that he wouldn’t have a chance at winning if you weren’t there. He also mentioned that Frankie was bragging about how beautiful and cute you were pregnant, and he wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Instead of telling Benny to come to you to see himself, you agreed with a laugh that you would attend. 

On the afternoon of the fight, you’d gotten home from work and showered the day off and done your hair and make up again. You picked out a tank top and one of Frankie’s flannels to wear over a pair of leggings. You looked in the mirror and you actually felt cute.  While you still felt self-conscious about your body, you were really starting to enjoy how you looked with a big baby belly. You smiled to yourself as Frankie walked back into your room from the ensuite in a towel, catching you admiring your reflection. 

“There’s my girl.”, he said, coming behind you and putting his hands under your sizable bump and gently lifting, relieving your back. 

“Oh, Frankie… please do this for the next month.”, you sighed and leaned back into him. “Just follow me everywhere and do this… god, I forgot what it felt like to not have a backache.” 

He kissed your neck, and gently let your belly down. “You’re doing so good, Mama… soon.”, he cooed, rubbing your bump, and looking you up and down in the mirror. “You look amazing. Wait – is that my shirt?” 

“Yes. I don’t have a cardigan that I can do up if I get cold. Baby’s getting too big.”, you stated, and proudly showed him how his shirt can still snap closed over your belly. Frankie just smiled. 

Benny and Frankie had agreed that you didn’t need to be there until right before his fight began, so the parking lot was packed when you arrived. Frankie had arranged for Will to meet you at the door while he went to find a parking spot. 

Pulling up, Will smiled and waved. You hadn’t seen him since you were around 4 months pregnant and were anxious about him seeing you now.  

Will opened the truck door and offered his hand to help you get out. “Hey Mouse! How’re you doing, sweetie?”, he said, eyes bright and happy. You noted that he scanned over your body, his eyes hovering over your middle for a beat. 

“Hey Will! I’m good. Tired, huge… but good!”, you laughed, posing with your hand on your belly. 

“Knock it off, you’re not huge.”, Will chided while pulling you into a hug.  

You stood outside and chatted while Frankie made his way back to you on foot. Frankie hand his hand on your lower back as you tried to not waddle into the arena. Hannah jumped up from her seat when she saw you, pulling you into a hug. She looked you over and squealed, “You look amazing! Oh my god, you’re adorable!” 

You saw Frankie talking to Will and then saw Santi in the conversation, too. His eyes look up and he nodded to you and smiled. You nodded back as the announcer started to speak. 

Benny’s fight was intense. His opponent was almost evenly matched with him and put up a hell of a fight. Even so, Benny was the victor and was the regional champion. You figured that it could be a late night, given that Frankie would probably want to celebrate with his friends.  

Benny’s entourage, Will, Hannah, Santi, Frankie and you, all waiting outside the change room for Benny. Hannah and you continued your conversation from earlier and tried to cram a few months’ worth of gossip and news into a few minutes. Frankie and Santi seemed to be doing the same along with Will. All chatter stopped the moment the change room door swung open, and Benny came flying out towards you.  

“Mouse! You came! You saw me win!”, he hollered, as he ran and looked like he was ready to do what he normally did – pick you up and swing you around.  

“BENNY!”, Frankie and Will yelled, eyes wide with worry, as Benny got his arms around you. 

Instead of him hoisting you up though, he hugged you tight and you did the same right back. Frankie sighed in relief and Will just huffed a laugh and shook his head. 

Benny pulled back and looked down at you. “I know better than to fling a pregnant lady around.”, he said with a satisfied smile plastered on his face, then stood back and looked you over. “Let’s take a look at you and see what Fish has been gloating about.” 

You smiled and turned in a circle and said “ta-da!” when you pulled the flannel back to show off your bump. Benny hooted and clapped in response. 

“Fucking rights, Mouse!”, he hollered at you while the rest of the group laughed.  

You all made your way to the same bar you’d met up at before, even finding yourself at the same table, given it was close to the bathrooms for your convenience. Hannah was also not drinking that night and had offered to make sure at least you got home safe that night; she knew corralling up the guys would probably not be easy, and decided that they would cab it if need be. You sat between Benny and Frankie, enjoying your cranberry juice and soda water. Frankie’s arm was around the back of your chair while you talked with Benny.  

He was telling you the gossip he’d heard about his opponent while he drank his beer, when the baby gave a big kick to your ribs, causing you to wince. 

“Whoa, you okay? What’s wrong?”, Benny asked in alarm. Frankie turned quickly away from his conversation to look at you with a questioning look. 

“Baby kicked me in the ribs. I’m okay, Benny.”, you waved him to continue. “it’s fine. Happens sometimes.” 

Benny looked as though his mind was trying to comprehend the meaning of existence, then finally asked in the most bewildered voice, “Your ribs get kicked? What the fuck?” 

You started laughing and Frankie chuckled behind you.  

“Yes, Benny. My ribs get kicked. From the inside.” 

From there, Benny asked you questions about your pregnancy, some you hadn’t even thought about asking yourself.  

About two hours later, Frankie, Benny, Will and Santi were drunk. One of the bar regulars who knew Frankie knew that you were pregnant and insisted he and his crew buy the guys shots to celebrate. What you didn’t anticipate was that the guy’s crew wanted to buy a round each, meaning that Frankie had four glasses of beer, two rum and coke, and seven shots of whatever hard liquor was poured in him.  

Sitting at the table with Hannah, you watched and laughed as the four men enjoyed the libations.  

“I’m gonna be a dad!”, Frankie hollered at Will and Benny. 

Benny tried to high five him, but missed, and yelled to a fellow patron, “He’s gonna be a dad!” 

The other patron, just as drunk, said something but you couldn’t quite hear it. Santi staggered over to Frankie and jumped on him for a piggyback. Then Will, wide eyed with a stupid grin, pointed towards your table. “She’s the mom!” 

Frankie whipped his head towards you and smiled, waving. “There’s mama! Hey baby!”  

You and Hannah burst into a fit of giggles. The four men came back to your table, Frankie plopping himself down next to you. 

“Hey mama… you look hot. So fucking good. Being pregnant and shit. Fuck, I love you.”, he slurred with a grin, hand splayed on your belly. You couldn’t help but grin at the terrible attempt he did at making a pass at you. 

“Thank you, honey. You’re great, too.”, you said, trying to supress the laughter. 

“Yeah, Catfish. You look good pregnant, too. Fucking… Baby Daddy Fish…”, Santi crooned, wrapping his arms around Frankie’s shoulders from behind and patting his belly like it was a bongo drum while Benny danced in his chair and chanted, “Baby Daddy Fish! Baby Daddy Fish!” 

Frankie and Santi started laughing again, and Will abruptly stood up with a glass in hand, startling everyone. 

“I have a toast. I have words to say to toast.”, Will declared, wavering on his feet. 

“Benny, you did great. Knocked the shit out of that sonofabitch and now you’re a fucking champ – no, THE fucking champion. Proud of you and shit, man.”, he drunkenly stated, then took a drink. 

Before you all could join in and take a drink, Will continued loudly. 

“And I also wanna say good work to Catfish for knocking Mouse up, ‘cause now I’M GONNA BE A FUCKING UNCLE!” 

Will screamed the last part of his ‘toast’, causing most of the bar to look his way then cheer. Your face was red from embarrassment, but the sentiment was not lost on you. Despite the crudeness of Will’s words, you knew he meant well, and you guessed that drunken Frankie would be happy to know drunken Will wasn’t mad at how he’d gotten you pregnant in the first place.  

Santi, along with other patrons and regulars at the bar, came over to offer Frankie back slaps and congratulations. You and Hannah laughed.  

You knew this was your cue to leave. You and Hannah managed to wrangle Frankie and Will into her vehicle after many sappy and drunk goodbyes from Santi and Benny who wanted to stay out longer. 

Once home, Frankie flopped onto your couch, mumbling something about a cactus, and you continued to your ensuite. You, of course, had to pee again. 

Once finished, you washed your hands and began brushing out your hair. 

“Mouse? Baby? You in here?”, Frankie called out form the bedroom. 

“In the bathroom, Frankie!”, you called back. 

You saw Frankie’s reflection in the mirror and were met with a very drunk Frankie, smiling like an idiot at you. 

You smiled back as he came and stood behind you, eyeing you in the mirror. He leaned in and growled in your ear, “I fucking meant it, mama. You look so fucking good like this.” 

One of his large hands lifted your shirt and pushed down the waistband of your leggings, exposing your swollen middle. He palmed at your belly while the other cupped your chin, his thumb running along your bottom lip.  

“So fucking hot… Love your body like this…”, he growled while kissing and nipping your neck.  

You let out a moan and you hand went up into his hair, knocking his hat off his head. “Oh fuck… Frankie!”, you keened, feeling the heat radiate from his body and his hardon pushing into your back. 

“I wanna keep you looking like this, mama… fuck a baby in you every god damn chance I get… breed you... so fucking beautiful…” 

You could only whine and pant in response to hearing those words and seeing his eyes staring back at you in the mirror. 

“I just wanna worship you… fucking tell you how fucking thankful I am…”, he crooned drunkenly, his hand trailed from your belly to try and cup your heat.  

“Oh fuck… yes… please baby…”, you gasped. 

He plunged his hands down the front of your leggings, fingers dancing in your folds. Despite how drunk he was, Frankie maintained his ability to get you off with no issue. 

He plunged two fingers into you, and you gasped and writhed in his other arm’s grip. 

“Please… fuck me, baby… I need you… please!”, you panted as you grinded down on his hands. 

He removed his hands after a minute or so, and when you heard him remove his belt and pants, you knew he was not going to take you to the bedroom. He was going to fuck you the way he did when he was drunk – hurried and needy and sloppy - and you loved it. Looking up into the mirror, his eyes caught yours and he reached for your leggings, pulling them down and you stepped out of them.  

“I wanna watch you fall apart while I fuck you from behind, princess.”, he grunted as he pushed you to lean forward onto your hands on the sink. “I want you to see how fuckin’ gorgeous you are when I fuck you.” 

He spat into his hand and pumped his cock twice before grabbing your hips and pushing into you. You clenched your eyes and gasped at the sudden and very welcome intrusion.  

“Open your eyes when and watch when I’m fuckin’ you.”, Frankie panted. He couldn’t hold any composure while being both drunk and balls deep in your cunt. 

You opened them, eyes catching his and nodded, needing him to start moving. He snapped his hips into you, each time a moan escaped your mouth. You watched his jaw tighten and brows furrow while he watched you. His breathing came out in huffs while he pounded into you.  

“Frankie… please… I-I need…”, you whined. 

“So fuckin’ pretty… Look at you… fuck, your pussy is a fucking dream… you’re just too fuckin’ much, princess…”, he pants, and you can feel his thrusts getting messy. 

“Please baby… I wanna…”, you beg, but before you can finish, Frankie comes with a few big thrusts and loud grunt. He stills in you, breathing heavily into your neck, and you feel annoyed. 

He doesn’t stay in you long, and as he pulls out, his hands grip your hips to turn you around. 

“Up’n the counter, princess.”, he said as he tries to get you to hop up. 

“Frankie, no… no, I’m not hopping up. I’m too pregnant for that.”, you state annoyed, shaking your head. 

You try to push past him, but he stops you. “You didn’t come… you gotta… I need to…”, he panted against your mouth as he reached around and lifted you on the bathroom counter. 

He pushes his mouth on yours and kisses you messily. Your annoyance at him melted away and his hand went to your swollen cunt and began pumping you with two fingers; you laid back against the mirror. He got on his knees and kissed your belly and then attached his lips to your aching clit. 

You cried out and arched your back and grabbed his hair. 

“Oh fuck... yes... Frankie... please... right there!” 

He keeps the pace and grunts into your cunt as he licks and sucks on your nub. You can feel your release barreling through your body and you shudder as you come on his fingers and face. 

Your body finally relaxes as Frankie pulls himself away from you and falls over on the bathroom floor. He lays back, pants around his ankles and drunker than a sailor on shore leave. You get down from the counter carefully and nudge him with your foot.  

“Frankie... honey... you can’t sleep on the floor.”, you laugh as you look down at him on the cold tiles. 

He mumbles something in response and opens his eyes lazily at you. He eventually got up, took off all his clothes, and flopped onto your bed. You took your shower, peed again, and crawled into bed next to a passed-out Frankie. 

As you started to fall asleep, the baby began kicking, preventing you from getting comfortable. Despite this and Frankie’s snoring beside you, you were content.  

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