101. Ayr

I secretly bought a set of jangling bells, but thankfully, they weren’t necessary.

I did once tie them to her and woke up to a barrage of jangling cushions to the face. Then she pinned my wrists to the mattress as best as she could before wrapping her mouth around my semi-hard early morning dick.

Confusing, briefly terrifying me and making me want to explode all in the space of five seconds. Perfection.

Now, such spontaneity has been briefly retired. Instead, she has to choose from a pile of leatherbound books instead of leaping onto my groin.

Holding out a selection of hardbacks, I mock-grumpily bark. “Pick one then,” before helping to place the covers over my hugely pregnant, half-glowing, half-irritated mate.

We’re in the final stages of this miracle of a pregnancy, and somehow, my plan worked.

“You always know which one I’ll choose,” she smiles back softly, her stunningly soft figure draped in an emerald green silk nightgown before choosing the same one she’s had for the pas