u/sjs8t8

It’s early in my work day and I should be focusing on the meeting, but I can’t shut this off.

I keep imagining every moment with you, every look, every time we’re close, and my mind goes to the same place over and over again. I don’t even try to stop it anymore.

I think about your belly growing with my baby. I shouldn’t be obsessed, but here I am. I can’t move on from it.

As I listen to this discussion, all I’m thinking about is what you’ll look like months from now. How everything will change. How real it would be.

It’s not just your sexy, pregnant belly that consumes me. It’s the intensity of filling your fertile womb with my seed. My cock deep inside you. Our eyes lock as I feel you convulsing around me, your moans intensifying. The words escaping your lips as you cum, begging to feel my load against your cervix.

I keep thinking about that moment where it wouldn’t just be a thought anymore. Where it becomes real and there’s no going back. I try to imagine how I’d feel. The excitement, the desire, the anticipation.

The need.

It’s early in my work day and I should be focusing on the meeting, but I can’t shut this off.

I keep imagining every moment with you, every look, every time we’re close, and my mind goes to the same place over and over again. I don’t even try to stop it anymore.

I think about your belly growing with my baby. I shouldn’t be obsessed, but here I am. I can’t move on from it.

As I listen to this discussion, all I’m thinking about is what you’ll look like months from now. How everything will change. How real it would be.

It’s not just your sexy, pregnant belly that consumes me. It’s the intensity of filling your fertile womb with my seed. My cock deep inside you. Our eyes lock as I feel you convulsing around me, your moans intensifying. The words escaping your lips as you cum, begging to feel my load against your cervix.

I keep thinking about that moment where it wouldn’t just be a thought anymore. Where it becomes real and there’s no going back. I try to imagine how I’d feel. The excitement, the desire, the anticipation.

The need.

When you offered to help again, I was so relieved. Things have been complicated, and having someone I trust around the house helped. You’ve always been someone I’ve been able to count on.

But lately, you’ve had your moments. Almost like you’re playing games with me that I’m completely unaware of. You linger. You step in a little too close and don’t step back.

I see it as a friendly girl going above and beyond to help a divorced dad figure his life out. You do your best to make it hard to believe.

It’s late. My daughter’s asleep upstairs, and you should be heading out.

“You don’t have to stay this late,” I say, glancing over as you walk into the kitchen.

“I know,” you reply, leaning against the counter, giving no intention of leaving.

I turn back to the sink, but you move closer this time. Not subtle. Not accidental.
When you reach past me, your body presses against mine. This time it’s much more firm, intentional.

I tense. “You should probably…”

“You want me to?” you ask quietly.

I stop.

You’re still right there.

And you don’t move.

All characters are 18+

You showed up at my door with nowhere else to go. You had no plan. No backup. Just a bag in your hand and the look I’ve seen before. The one that meant you were done pretending you were fine.

I was your favorite uncle. It was no secret we were very close, some might say too close. Even when you got in trouble, I was the one person who always believed in you. The one who never failed to protect you. We had a connection, one others may not have understood.

Letting you stay with me was the easy part. My home was yours, for as long as you wanted.

What followed, the tension, the mutual desire we’d ignored for years, was not. It became clear you didn’t run away only to be saved.

You ran away because you wanted to feel something…and I was the only one you trusted enough to show you.

When you moved in, I didn’t think much would change. But lately… I feel like I’m missing something. Something in the way you act.

You linger. You stand a little too close to me. You look at me in ways I can’t quite explain. I tell myself you’re just being friendly…but some moments don’t feel accidental.

I don’t know what you’re doing. I’m completely oblivious.

And I hadn’t spent much time trying to figure it out. I chalk your actions up to your personality.

It’s late one night. The house is quiet except for the kitchen light.

“I thought everyone was asleep,” I say, glancing up as you walk in.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply, stepping closer than I expect.

I nod, turning back to the counter, feeling you hover…close.

When you reach past me for a glass, I feel your body press against my back… and linger.

I hesitate.

You don’t move.

I can’t get it out of mind. The idea of filling you with my seed and watching your belly grow with my baby inside you.

The desire to breed you makes me insatiable. I need you here, me inside you, looking up at me as I thrust so deep. In between your whimpers and moans, you manage to mutter, “I need it…breed me…fill me up…”

Our eyes meet as I start breathing heavier. My balls tightening. The anticipation of feeling it puts you over the edge as you cum, milking my cock, which explodes. My load so deep inside your fertile pussy, overflowing it.

It’s just a matter of time until you find out. Until you feel my baby growing inside you.

All characters 18+

When my daughter asked if her college friend could stay with us for the summer, it sounded harmless. A spare room, a few extra groceries, someone passing through for a couple months.

What I didn’t expect was how hot her friend was. Or your comfort in our house.

You flaunt it, walking barefoot in the kitchen late at night, leaning against the counter while I pour a drink, asking questions that drift further from polite conversation every time we talk. When the house gets quiet, you’re always the one still awake.

One night it’s just the two of us in the kitchen after everyone else has gone to bed. You lean against the counter, studying me like you’ve been waiting for this moment.

“You know,” you say softly, “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you.”

Your words carry a new weight. Your smile tells me you’re not just making casual conversation.

All characters are 18+

You showed up at my door with nowhere else to go. You had no plan. No backup. Just a bag in your hand and the look I’ve seen before. The one that meant you were done pretending you were fine.

I was your favorite uncle. It was no secret we were very close, some might say too close. Even when you got in trouble, I was the one person who always believed in you. The one who never failed to protect you. We had a connection, one others may not have understood.

Letting you stay with me was the easy part. My home was yours, for as long as you wanted.

What followed, the tension, the mutual desire we’d ignored for years, was not. It became clear you didn’t run away only to be saved.

You ran away because you wanted to feel something…and I was the only one you trusted enough to show you.

The house is quiet, and the bottle between us is nearly empty. When you suggest the game, it seems like a joke, but you don’t laugh. You just smile and say, truth.

At first it’s harmless. Embarrassing confessions. Old regrets. But the questions start approaching lines, and I notice how your voice softens when you answer mine. There’s clearly something there I can’t place…

Each round tightens the space between us. I notice you leaning in more, maybe even scooting a bit closer. Dares become more intimate. Truths start revealing things we’ve never said out loud, things we’ve thought about each other.

By the time midnight slips past, the game isn’t about truth or dare anymore. It’s about who will break first, who’s making the first move. Somehow, your questions and openness still surprise me, even make me think about you a bit differently.

The doorbell startles me. It’s too late for visitors, and I’m not expecting anyone.

When I open the door, it’s you, eyes glassy, duffel bag in hand, standing there like you don’t have anywhere else to go.

“He broke up with me.”

I let you in without thinking. You drop your bag by the door, pacing once before settling, talking through it in pieces. Struggling to get the story out. I stay where I am, listening, letting you get it out.

When you finally stop, you look at me like you’re waiting for something. I give you the usual. It’s what I’ve always done.

You don’t argue. You don’t cry again.

You just keep looking at me.

The silence stretches, and instead of breaking it, you step closer. Close enough that I notice. Close enough that I don’t move.

I tell myself it’s nothing. But you take another step.

Now it’s intentional.

I should say something. But you need my comfort. I should create distance, reset this back to what it’s supposed to be.

I am 18 and all other participants are 18+

The doorbell startles me. It’s too late for visitors, and I’m not expecting anyone.

When I open the door, it’s you, eyes glassy, duffel bag in hand, standing there like you don’t have anywhere else to go.

“He broke up with me.”

I let you in without thinking. You drop your bag by the door, pacing once before settling, talking through it in pieces. Struggling to get the story out. I stay where I am, listening, letting you get it out.

When you finally stop, you look at me like you’re waiting for something. I give you the usual. It’s what I’ve always done.

You don’t argue. You don’t cry again.

You just keep looking at me.

The silence stretches, and instead of breaking it, you step closer. Close enough that I notice. Close enough that I don’t move.

I tell myself it’s nothing. But you take another step.

Now it’s intentional.

I should say something. But you need my comfort. I should create distance, reset this back to what it’s supposed to be.