We both close our eyes at the feeling. His hand drops to my round stomach and he holds it. It’s like a little love cacoon. I feel so safe, so loved. He withdraws slowly and then pushes back in to me as he kisses me over my shoulder.
“You feel so good,” he whispers as his hips pump me on autopilot. The feel of his lips on mine, his large cock inside of my body and his hand protectively on my stomach is too much. I start to quiver and he holds me tight and picks up the pace, his hand never leaving my stomach.
“You fuck me so good, baby,” he breathes.
The sound of my arousal slaps heavily in the air as his body leaves and re-enters. For ten blissful minutes we writhe together, giving and taking the pleasure we both desperately need.
“I can’t last.” He pushes out as his lips start to quiver against mine. I clench and burst into an orgasm, and he brings his hand onto my hip and pulls me deep onto his cock so I can feel the telling jerk of his orgasm. His hand leaves my stomach and comes to my cheek and he holds me as he looks at me lovingly.
“I fucking adore you,” he whispers.
I smile as my eyes glaze over. This is how lovemaking is done. “‘That’s good, because I fucking love you.”
“Do you want a coffee?” Cameron asks.
“Tea, please,” I reply.
“Hot chocolate, thanks,” Didge mutters as she swipes through her phone. We are sitting on the bonnet of our car watching Joshua play Polo. Its Sunday afternoon and Bridget and Cameron have met me here. We came straight from Willowvale, and this is his last game for a while. Joshua has told them he is unavailable until after the baby is born in four weeks. I told him I’m going to go overdue, but he doesn’t believe me. Adrian is working, apparently he is snowed under and couldn’t make it. I need to go to the bathroom but it’s such a fucking drama. I need to drag four frigging guards with me and they all wait outside while I go. Paparazzi are everywhere and I can almost feel the lenses clicking on me. This is the only place they can get their photographs of Joshua and I together and, naturally, we are being hounded because of the impending birth story. Adrian has had his styling job upped to a whole new level of Hell, Nothing bloody fits me. He is coming over weekly now and making me try stuff on, taking photos of every outfit with his phone. He then studies it so he can direct me what to wear when I’m going to be photographed, so thank Heaven for him. He makes me look better than I do. Today, I am wearing camel coloured jeans and a white linen shirt, which hangs down, with short brown boots and a brown hat that lets my hair fall out and full. My standard chunky bangles are on to hide my horrible scar. As soon as I have the baby, I’m going to see about getting some laser or something on it. I want it gone from my life.
I look at the bathrooms on the other side of the field and then over to my guards sitting on the car behind me. God, its so annoying taking guards everywhere I go.
“I need to go to the bloody bathroom again,” I mutter.
“Again?” Bridget frowns.
“I know, right? Baby Stanton is sitting on something.” I sigh, unimpressed.
She smiles, rubs my stomach and goes back to her phone. I try to hold it, but I really do need to go.
“I’m going to the bathroom before Cam gets back.”
“Want me to come?” she asks without looking up.
“No. It’s ok.” I stand and wave to Max and he comes straight over. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Ok, sure.” He turns and signals to the other guards. I then drop my head and walk to the bathroom with two men in front of me, and two trailing behind. This really is over kill but it’s not even worth fighting with Joshua over it. I can hear the cameras clicking as I walk. God, I must look like a beached whale. Who on Earth would want to see these photos? I get to the bathroom and join the queue to find two women before me. The light is blown so there is only light coming in from the small windows up above the sink. And then I feel it, hot and running down my leg. My eyes widen. Holy fuck, I must be wetting myself. I try to stop it but I can’t and it keeps coming.
Oh my God.
Oh my fucking God.
The lady in front finishes and I duck into the stall and look down at myself. My jeans have huge wet patches running down my inside legs. Holy shit. Its still coming, so I rip down my pants and sit down but it doesn’t stop. Holy crap. I’ve hit the bottom of the barrel. I’ve wet myself in public with fucking paparazzi outside waiting for the shot.
Only me, this shit could only happen to me.
I shake my hands in horror. What the hell am I going to do? I stand to look down at myself and the inside of both legs is wet right to my feet.
Oh. My. Fucking. God.
What will I do, what will I do?
I text Bridget.
Don’t say anything to Cameron
OMFG get to the bathroom
We have a fucking disaster
She immediately texts back.
Huh?
I write back.
Just get here now!!!!!!!
She writes back.
On my way, drama queen
I stand in the stall with my hands over my mouth. I’m blushing just thinking about getting out of here.