Pam was absolutely going to lose her mind. She felt angry, pent up, frustrated and a level of turned on she could not accurately put in to words ALL THE DAMN TIME. She nearly constantly dreamt about sex, and it was never gentle lovemaking, Pam was intensely horny and all her mind offered up was rough, passionate, deep thrust… oh gods….all the different possibilities and positions Jim was welcome to contort them in. She daydreamed how it would feel to go to be awakened being thoroughly fucked by him. She watched his hands on the steering wheel as they drove to work, imaging how marvelous it would be if he would reach over and finger her on the way, how welcome it would be if he rubbed her nipples through her shirt. She watched him talk to customers, tousle his hair when done with a call and all she wanted was for him to make her a prize to be claimed when he made a sale. She closed her eyes and imagine him coming over, crawling under her desk, tipping her chair back until her only option was to put her flat shoed feet on to her desk while he roughly pulled her panties aside and lick her until she screamed.
But this damn belly.
Don’t mistake that for anything other than frustration. Pam was ecstatic to be pregnant. To be full with evidence she and Jim love one another, growing their baby inside her. She loved the movements the little being made, enjoyed having all this time to get to know them as they grew. When the sickness and fatigue of the first trimester subsided, Pam was at first relieved to feel a bit more in control of her body. It was nice to eat, and keep, breakfast. It was nice to not deeply desire three naps a day. It was nice to go for a lunch stroll with Jim, holding hands and chatting about anything as they walked around the block.
Then THIS happened. Halfway through the second trimester, her hormones must have shifted more and now she was a near constant, pent up, ball of horny energy she had never experienced before.
She loved time with Jim. Of course they still had sex, but…. He was being a little too NICE for what her body was screaming for. And, worse Pam noted, because of the sweet little (growing) being inside, the same angles and movements did not work as they used to. Pam was frustrated.
—
Jim, always vigilant of his wife’s expressions and body language, was aware something was off. Of course it was, Pam’s belly was growing. She was growing a human, their human, inside her. She now needed maternity clothes, larger bras, stretchy waist skirts and flat shoes instead of her favorite low heels. Jim was his ever courteous and genial self, trying his best to keep things as normal as he could. He made them breakfast, so Pam could sleep in a bit. He helped her with going back upstairs for (pregnancy brain) forgotten items. He rubbed her back or her feet or her head when she was achy.
But over the last few weeks, Jim was also noticing that when he would feel Pam’s eyes on him, look up, she was slightly flushed pink and quickly looking away from him. She did not look angry, but she also did not have a ‘readable’ expression. So, Jim was mildly concerned.
On the way home that night he asked her if she would prefer he not go to his Wednesday night basketball game. He had been in the league a long time, missing a game here or there did not matter, it was all for fun. Pam reassured him “No, of course not. Go out, get some time with your friends. This baby is going to change a lot of things in wonderful ways, but it might mean missing games later. I am fine, just trying to figure out and get used to this new body.”
Pam wasn’t entirely lying. She WAS trying to get used to this new body. Just not in the way Jim knew, and she did not know how to say the words. She did not want him to think sex with him was not pleasurable. And she did not know how to ask that he ‘think outside the box’ (pun intended? That’s what she said?).
After Jim left, giving her a marvelous kiss goodbye, Pam went to their bedroom. She loaded up a private browser on her tablet and started Google pregnancy porn. She was shocked how much was there and not disappointed in some of the ideas forming. But, then the ache. The flood of blood in her lower abdomen, rushing there to help nourish their baby all day, was also nearly constantly filling other parts of her. And now she felt everything throbbing….again.
Pam thought for a good few minutes and then went to the box at the back of her closet. The box that held the couple of vibrators she had purchased ‘before’. The vibrators she used to NEED before Jim. They moved with them to the house because she could not imagine throwing them in the trash to be found. And now they were there, boring, but available. Nothing fancy, but after changing out the batteries on the purple rabbit (which had always been her favorite) she tried to get the ache to subside in her spot on the bed.
It did not work. Her legs would not cooperate, staying out of the way of her arm which now needed to get around her swelling belly. Pam struggled for a while in a few different positions and just could not get it right. Finally, she turned around. It felt weird to have her feet at the head of the bed, head to the doorway, but here she found he could prop her hips on the pillow and plant her feet on the wall between the wrought iron decorative headboard. This might work, possibly, at least now her hip did not feel like it would pop out of its socket flopping over.
Pam kept trying, she even tried propping the vibrator in the pillow so she could be hands free and stop fighting around her tummy… but it just wasn’t right. Getting SO close and just not being able to get to anything that would release the tension was maddening and she began to cry a little in frustration.
That was when she realized she was not alone.
—
Jim came home from basketball to a quiet house. Usually Pam was propped up on the couch, reading or watching TV waiting up for him. She rarely slept until he came home, but with pregnancy exhaustion he figured it was normal. When he did not see a light in the living room he let himself in as quietly as possible, so he wouldn’t wake her. He grabbed a drink of water in the kitchen sink and then headed upstairs slowly. He was being quiet, then realized he could hear a noise coming from the bedroom. A buzzing. OH….
His mind raced, was Pam masterbating?? Holy shit. Sure, he was no stranger to the concept, but he and Pam had such a healthy sex life he never really wanted to anymore. But, that very much sounded like a vibrator.
He did not want to interrupt her, but he damn well wanted to watch. And as he rounded the doorway he saw her, flipped around in a very interesting position, with her right arm awkwardly around her belly and her left hand on her breast. At first he thought she was panting, and partly she was, then he realized she was crying. Her right arm had fallen at her side, clicking off the rabbit vibrator, and her left hand was covering her face as she wept.
—-
Jim was at her side in a flash, grabbing her hand and imploring her with his eyes to tell him what was wrong. Pam was mortified. ‘Caught’ with her feet on the wall, vibrator in hand and tears in her eyes… she must look pathetic. And that made her cry harder as she rolled off the pillow. Jim curled in behind her and wrapped his arms around her. That was when he spotted the tablet propped up on the bed and could see on the screen a very interesting video search. His mind began processing, but he needed more information from his wife.
“Love, talk to me….” He said softly in to the hair at the nape of her neck.
Jim had not demanded anything, he had not told her he would fix things or asked her to tell him what to do. He just asked her to talk to him.
Through tearful sobs a torrent of words came out that Jim tried to pick apart. “Nothingiswrong,IamjustsoriledupallthetimeandIcantcontrolit.
Iwanttofuckyouandbefuckedbyyouallthetime.
IthinkaboutallthethingsyourbodycoulddotomineandIwantyoutobedoingthemeveryminuteoftheday.
IwanttowalkaroundmydeskandpushyoubackinyourchairatworkandrideyouuntilIscream.
Iwantyourhandsonmeinthecar.
wanttowaketoyoufingeringmeandfuckingme.
IwantyoucomingupbehindmewashingdishesandbendingmeovertothrustinsidemeuntilIbreaksomething.
IwanttobelickedandsuckedandfuckedandIhavenoideawherethisiscomingfromanditismakingmecrazy.”
Jim knew they were sentences and was able to make out enough words that he knew his wife was telling him she was horny and apparently he had not been getting the job done. He did not know why and that was a question for later, when the tears ended. For now, he rolled her to him, kissed her deeply, wiped her face and growled in to her ear “get your fucking clothes on and get in the car NOW.”
