Letter to an Expectant Father

So, the baby is due any day, now.* Congratulations!* You must be so proud of Annie.*Truly, your little wife has never looked more beautiful than she does right now. You can tell she adores being pregnant.* Look at the way she caresses the taut skin of her belly, with that drowsy smile. She?s so big she can hardly reach around herself. See how she cups her hands under those heavy breasts, already seeping milk into the foam pads of her maternity bra.* As a man who has a thing for big boobs, you must be beside yourself with happiness. 32J, and still growing!Yes, I know her bra size. Is that a problem?Anyway, enjoy this time while you can. In a couple of weeks, you?ll be groggy from midnight feedings, diapers, colic and all the stress and worry that goes with being a new dad.* It will take a while to get used to it. For now, though, you can just sit back and congratulate yourself on what a lucky man, you are! You have a great job, at the head of a department with nearly two dozen employees. You have a big house in the 'burbs.*Best of all, you have a sweet-tempered, incredibly voluptuous wife, nearly ten years younger than you.* Even before she became pregnant, she was just your type: a little under five feet tall, and barely out of her teens, with those wide hips, that slim waist, and tits like a couple of muskmelons. And now here she is, the fulfillment of every fantasy you?ve ever had: radiant with new life, her belly swollen with the child you put inside her. Everything is going your way.Mind you, it would be nice if she occasionally allowed you to put your hands on that magnificent body.* I mean, how long has it been since you two had sex?* Here you are, weak with lust all day long, going around with your stiff little pecker sticking out, and a wife who has absolutely no interest in sex. And you can?t take your eyes off her, can you? It almanbahis must be driving you mad.A couple of weeks ago, you watched her from the other room as she was emerging from the shower. She was wrapping her long hair in a towel, her boobs swinging as he leaned forward, a halo of light caught in that little tuft of golden pubic hair under her belly.* You were almost fainting with desire, and came pretty close to losing ejaculating right into your pajamas!*When she entered the room, you had to cover up the big splotch of precum seeping into the cloth.*She pretended not to notice, but she saw that, and believe me, she did not find it the least bit arousing. These days, all she feels when she looks at you is pity and faint disgust. The thought of letting you poke that little breadstick of yours into her makes her feel ill.Well, don?t be too concerned about that. Some women lose interest in sex, during pregnancy. It?s a hormonal thing, you know?Of course, it?s not as if you were having a lot of sex before the pregnancy.* To be honest, it?s a mystery how you managed to knock her up at all.* You?ve wondered about that, haven?t you?She told you it must have happened on the night of the Waltham?s housewarming party.* You remember the first part of that night pretty well. The whole neighborhood was there, including a lot of people you?d never met.* You hit the sangria pretty hard, and made a fool of yourself, flirting with that slutty divorcee, Sheena Danko, who already has three kids by two different guys.And where?s the harm in that, you might ask? You were just messing around a bit, being sociable.* You seemed awfully pleased when she leaned over the sectional couch to get a handful of peanuts and nonchalantly pressed one of her big, pointy boobs into your arm. Did you think nobody noticed, when you reached out and gave her ripe little butt almanbahis yeni giriş a deft squeeze? Annie certainly saw that, and you can bet she was pissed off about it. *By the end of the evening, you were almost too drunk to stagger home, and the last thing you remember was falling onto the living room couch and passing out. *But apparently, that wasn?t the end of the evening for you.* That is,*if you can believe what Annie told you a couple of month or two later, when she announced she was pregnant. As she describes it, you had just dozed off on the couch, and she went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Then,* she says, you woke up again and came into the kitchen with her, and put your arms around her from behind. You were very assertive, she said.*Before she knew it, you had hoisted her up on the counter and pulled up her dress, and then you took her right next to the bread machine, scattering sugar bowls and cans of tea all over the room. You were a real sex machine, apparently. What a shame that you don?t remember any of it!What you do remember is waking up the next morning, fully dressed on the couch, your belt buckled and your fly zipped up.* You had a godawful hangover, and stumbled out to the kitchen for some aspirin. If you?d been paying attention, you might have taken note of how tidy it was, all the tea cans neatly lined up between the bread machine and the fridge. But even if you had noticed this, it wouldn?t mean anything. Probably, she had taken a few minutes to to straighten things up, the night before, after your little escapade.*You know how she hates a mess in the kitchen.You do remember one other detail of that day. Later in the morning, you had found something on the hall carpet, next to the front door. It was a piece of torn paper, with your house address written in blue*ballpoint.*The handwriting looked almanbahis giriş just like Annie?s. You asked her about it,* but she said she had no idea where it had come from. You accepted this, but perhaps a dark thought went through your mind, just then. A fleeting suspicion.What if she too had found someone to flirt with at the Waltham?s party? Suppose she had met some well-built fellow her own age, and they had gotten to talking, then stepped outside for some fresh air. And then, out on the patio in the moonlight, on a sudden impulse - partly fueled by anger at your behavior, perhaps - she had kissed him.And he had kissed her back, pressing his hard, body against hers, and she had felt his arousal. Fearful that someone might see them, she had pulled away. But before leaving him, she had ripped a page out of her agenda, and written her home address on it.* And then she slipped the paper to him with a shy and secretive smile.That seems plausible, but then how did this paper come to be on the floor of their house?Well, suppose the younger man had come over, later that same night, while you were passed out on the couch.*It?s an easy scene to picture, if you have any imagination. He would knock softly, and she would let him in, and they would embrace briefly in the hall, inadvertently allowing the address fall to the floor. She would take his hand and quietly led him upstairs, glancing over over at you as they passed by,* sleeping it off in your rumpled suit,* completely oblivious.They would enter the bedroom together, and, standing there by your marital bed, she would begin demurely unbuttoning her blouse. But he would clasp her to him with a breathless urgency, and push her small hands aside. He would take the filmy fabric in his own strong fingers and rudely tear it open, letting the loose buttons scatter across the floor.* Startled, she would begin to cry out, but by then he would be pulling off her brassiere, not fiddling with the hooks but just ripping them apart.And she would give in to him and melt into his arms, gasping faintly as her breasts spilled out.