could you ask for?”
“Sex.” Jill said the word softly, tracing her finger around on the paisley pattern of the comforter.
“Oh, hell, you have built in sex,” Ursula snorted. “I wish. If I wanna get off, it’s me and my Rabbit vibrator and a night of watching James Deen porn.”
“Holy hell that man is hot,” Jill said, eyes widening, and they both laughed.
Ursula thought Jill’s husband, Mike, looked a little like James Deen, and had wondered, on occasion, if he fucked like a porn star. They’d been hot and heavy in high school, a couple since forever. Mike had circumvented college, becoming an electrician and working in his father’s business, and they both had talked about having lots of kids early. Little Mikey would be the first of many, Ursula figured.
She wouldn’t have told Jill, but she was so envious of her life. A hot guy with a steady job who fucked her often enough to get her pregnant? It might have sounded weird, if she said it out loud—especially since this was the twenty-first century, and she was a woman, so she was supposed to want to go out and do all the things men did in the work world—but what Ursula wanted more than anything was a husband and a baby.
She just wished she could find a guy like Mike—a hottie who fucked her like a porn star at night, who wanted to fill her belly with babies.
“But wait…” Ursula frowned at her friend, her fantasies shattered. “He’s not… I mean, you haven’t… you know, had sex? Since the baby was born?”
“Nuh-uh.” Jill shook her head.
“It’s been six weeks,” Ursula observed. “I mean, more than. Are you healed?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine down there, thanks to you.” Jill smiled back at her friend. “I didn’t even tear.”
“I know.” Ursula had been at the birth, which Jill had done at home in her giant Jacuzzi bathtub. Gloria, the midwife Ursula was apprenticing with, had let Ursula lead the birth and catch the baby. Mikey’s birth had been as uneventful as they come, aside from the cord she’d had to unwrap around his neck before he slipped into the world. “So what’s the problem?”
“I think it’s my tits.” Jill frowned down at them, like two ripe cantaloupes under her t-shirt. She’d always been a chest girl, but now? She was like Dolly Parton. Ursula’s own breasts were dwarfed in comparison.
“He can’t be complaining about the size.” Ursula smirked.
“Well, no.” Jill smiled at that. “It’s the milk part. He thinks it’s gross.”
“What?” Ursula’s eyebrows raised. To her, it was the most natural thing in the world. Not only that, she had to admit, she found it kind of sexy. What man wouldn’t? She didn’t get it.
“I don’t know, I think he just… it turns him off.” Jill shrugged, pulling her long, dark hair over one shoulder. “He calls me Dairy Queen. It’s funny, but… it’s kind of…”
“Yeah.” Ursula nodded. She got it. “I bet he’s just scared.”
“Of my tits?” Jill hefted one in her hand, a gesture that was rather sexy. “What’s to be scared of? They’re the same tits he couldn’t get enough of before Mikey was born.”
“Yeah, but now they’re functional.”
“Well, for fuck’s sake, if I felt that way about his cock, the man never would have gotten laid.”
“True.” Ursula snorted a laugh. The human body was, truly, an amazing thing. Sexual organs were multi-purpose, almost always. Cocks were made for fucking—but they doubled as urine eliminators. Pussies were made for fucking—but also for birthing. And tits—great for pleasure, but functional as milk dispensers as well.
“It makes me feel… I don’t know. Unattractive.” Jill sighed, slipping over to her back so she could stare up at the ceiling.
“Are you kidding
“Sex.” Jill said the word softly, tracing her finger around on the paisley pattern of the comforter.
“Oh, hell, you have built in sex,” Ursula snorted. “I wish. If I wanna get off, it’s me and my Rabbit vibrator and a night of watching James Deen porn.”
“Holy hell that man is hot,” Jill said, eyes widening, and they both laughed.
Ursula thought Jill’s husband, Mike, looked a little like James Deen, and had wondered, on occasion, if he fucked like a porn star. They’d been hot and heavy in high school, a couple since forever. Mike had circumvented college, becoming an electrician and working in his father’s business, and they both had talked about having lots of kids early. Little Mikey would be the first of many, Ursula figured.
She wouldn’t have told Jill, but she was so envious of her life. A hot guy with a steady job who fucked her often enough to get her pregnant? It might have sounded weird, if she said it out loud—especially since this was the twenty-first century, and she was a woman, so she was supposed to want to go out and do all the things men did in the work world—but what Ursula wanted more than anything was a husband and a baby.
She just wished she could find a guy like Mike—a hottie who fucked her like a porn star at night, who wanted to fill her belly with babies.
“But wait…” Ursula frowned at her friend, her fantasies shattered. “He’s not… I mean, you haven’t… you know, had sex? Since the baby was born?”
“Nuh-uh.” Jill shook her head.
“It’s been six weeks,” Ursula observed. “I mean, more than. Are you healed?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine down there, thanks to you.” Jill smiled back at her friend. “I didn’t even tear.”
“I know.” Ursula had been at the birth, which Jill had done at home in her giant Jacuzzi bathtub. Gloria, the midwife Ursula was apprenticing with, had let Ursula lead the birth and catch the baby. Mikey’s birth had been as uneventful as they come, aside from the cord she’d had to unwrap around his neck before he slipped into the world. “So what’s the problem?”
“I think it’s my tits.” Jill frowned down at them, like two ripe cantaloupes under her t-shirt. She’d always been a chest girl, but now? She was like Dolly Parton. Ursula’s own breasts were dwarfed in comparison.
“He can’t be complaining about the size.” Ursula smirked.
“Well, no.” Jill smiled at that. “It’s the milk part. He thinks it’s gross.”
“What?” Ursula’s eyebrows raised. To her, it was the most natural thing in the world. Not only that, she had to admit, she found it kind of sexy. What man wouldn’t? She didn’t get it.
“I don’t know, I think he just… it turns him off.” Jill shrugged, pulling her long, dark hair over one shoulder. “He calls me Dairy Queen. It’s funny, but… it’s kind of…”
“Yeah.” Ursula nodded. She got it. “I bet he’s just scared.”
“Of my tits?” Jill hefted one in her hand, a gesture that was rather sexy. “What’s to be scared of? They’re the same tits he couldn’t get enough of before Mikey was born.”
“Yeah, but now they’re functional.”
“Well, for fuck’s sake, if I felt that way about his cock, the man never would have gotten laid.”
“True.” Ursula snorted a laugh. The human body was, truly, an amazing thing. Sexual organs were multi-purpose, almost always. Cocks were made for fucking—but they doubled as urine eliminators. Pussies were made for fucking—but also for birthing. And tits—great for pleasure, but functional as milk dispensers as well.
“It makes me feel… I don’t know. Unattractive.” Jill sighed, slipping over to her back so she could stare up at the ceiling.
“Are you kidding
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