Chapter 3: Pregnant Housewife

I periodically glance at the clock as I tend to the pot of soup boiling over the stove. I crafted it out of the rabbit I caught this morning after seeing my husband Thom off to work, adding a few spices and herbs I know from Mother's Healing stock for flavor.

In the three years that Thom and I have been married, my husband has gone on a meteoric rise through the miner ranks. He graduated from the Digging Crew by the end of our first year of marriage, rising to Team Captain just after our inaugural wedding anniversary. And a few months ago, Thom fulfilled his dearest wish (other than marrying me) when he was promoted to Foreman, the sixth and youngest Borden to do so, and the youngest Foreman ever at the age of 21. I have told him over and over again how proud I am of him, and I can breathe a little easier when I fix his breakfast and kiss him goodbye every morning. Thom has his own office above-ground, and he only ever has to go down in the lifts when an inspection has to be made.

I hear the key turning in the lock of our front door, and I turn from the stove happily just in time to see my husband lunge through the door, sweep me into his embrace and kiss me good evening rather indecently, his tongue quickly parting my lips and slipping down my throat. I close my eyes and return the kiss with abandon, as Thom bends me back over the stove, draping my arms about his shoulders as I kiss him back. "Hmmmm..."

Thom and I are so caught up in kissing in each other, that we don't notice the dish rag I've been holding fall limply out of my hand onto the stove plate, where it quickly and accidentally catches fire. Thom breaks the kiss abruptly, ignoring my whine of protest as I reach for him.

"Whoops! That could have been a nasty blaze." He stamps the fire out with a wet cloth, and spins me in his arms away from the stove. The moment makes me laugh. Reaching up, I tug Thom back in for another kiss.

"Welcome home. Supper's almost ready, my love."

Thom pecks my lips chastely one last time. Nestled between us is my swelling stomach. The baby wasn't planned, and I only agreed to bear my husband's child because he was so excited to find out I was expecting, carrying his baby. I could not find it within me to deny him, though I have more than once experienced nightmares of our unborn baby being Reaped for the Hunger Games. Or growing up only to die in a mine explosion. Thom holds me through it all and tells me we will be OK. We have each other. He tickles my pregnant belly now, plants a kiss to my stomach.

"And how did little Borden behave?"

I chuckle. "She keeps kicking."

"She?" Thom frowns. "What makes you think it's a girl?"

"My motherly intuition," I crack in a deadpan. Thom laughs uproariously and kisses me once gently. "Your wife comes from a long line of Everdeen women."

"Well, your husband comes from a long line of Borden men. We have a future Foreman in there, make no mistake about it!"

I laugh and kiss Thom deeply. "Hmm," I purr, demurring. "We'll see."

I sashay past him and bend over to check on the stove. I hear something akin to a growl behind me, and at first I think it's my rumbling stomach... at least until I feel a hardness press into the flesh of my shapely ass.

I stand up straight, but Thom now has me pinned between himself and the counter. He grinds his stiff length into my buttocks and whispers sultrily in my ear, "You look so amazingly sexy carrying our child."

I whimper, as I feel Thom's talented hands hike up the skirts of my blue Reaping dress, settling them over my hips - those hips that have become more curved as I progress through my pregnancy. The white lace of my panties is revealed, which my husband quickly pushes down so that the fabric pools at my feet, revealing my bare buttocks to him.

"Thom... don't... don't stop..." I mewl, as I hear a belt buckle clang, a zipper unzip. Thom's calloused palm encircles me and I shiver as I feel nearly his whole hand sink into my femininity, already slick with arousal. His fingers grope until he finds the nub and gives it a firm tweak. I nearly topple to the floor, and I thrust my pelvis out, humping into him and not caring that I am brushing up against the countertop.

"Oh God... Oh, fuck... Thom, please..." My voice is a raspy croak.

I feel Thom's free hand dance along my skin, caressing the curve of my rear end, brushing along my ribcage, until his palm cups my swelling breast. I can see my nipples through my bodice, pebbling in excitement, and they are practically lit afire as Thom gives my boob a loving squeeze. I arch into his touch, groaning incessantly. "Mmmm... Hmmmmm..." Turning his face to mine, I push my lips against his, prying them apart quickly so that my tongue can swim inside and dance along the roof of his mouth.

And then, I feel the tip of Thom's member, and then all of his length, slam in between the puckered lips of my butt cheeks.

Startled, I wrench out of the kiss and scream, but Thom's lips soon spring back and conquer my own once more. I close my eyes and wounding my arm about his neck, I deepen the kiss as my husband takes me in the ass, slamming his penis into the tight space over and over again. I whine with aroused pleasure, taken aback by his passion, my fingers weaving into the locks of his hair and tightening around his skull. I feel his growl vibrate into my mouth and he bites down on my bottom lip, eliciting from me a whine.

Another slam into my buttocks. Thom strokes my vagina and its flowery bud and I keen into him.

"Mmmmm..." I wrench my lips free, breaking the kiss. "Thom!" I cry out in ecstasy. "Thhmmmmmmm..." His mouth cuts me off. He kneads my breast expertly, and I hump against him faster, pushing my breasts into his palm. "Mmmm... yes, keep touching me, please. Just... just like that..." I whisper along his plundering tongue. He bashes into me yet again, and my cries grow louder: "Thom, fuck me! Fuck me, please!" I adore how my husband fucks me.

Tremors have taken over my body; I can feel myself shaking as Thom thrusts into my rear end more and more desperately. His pounding is getting weaker; he can't last much longer. I can't last much longer. Neither of us can last much longer...

My frame seizes, my butt cheeks clamping down on Thom's penis mid-slam and trapping him there for milking.

"MMMMMMMM!" I cry out into our kiss, falling limp in Thom's strong embrace. My vaginal walls clenching, I cum utterly apart against his hand, which considerately continues to stroke me during my orgasm. There is a pulsing at my back as I milk my husband of all his juices, the liquid gold sputtering into my arse. The caressing of my breast slows as Thom finishes feeling me up, and I feel him pull out, releasing me.

I can finally turn around to stare at my husband, rouged, bruised and thoroughly kissed mouth hanging agape. Behind us, unnoticed, the timer dings.

"Din..." My throat feels dry. "Dinner's ready." Though after having sex the way we just did, neither one of us feels very hungry.