Chapter 204: Pregnant MILF is Deprived

Shyla didn’t answer with words. Instead, she pulled my head back down to her nipple like my biting had awakened something deep inside her, something starved and desperate after months of neglect. “Yes, Alex… you are so rough… please bite them more,” she moaned, voice breaking with want.

I obliged, biting both nipples in turn, teeth grazing then clamping down firmly, tugging until they throbbed red and swollen in my mouth. Between bites I sucked hard, drawing thick streams of warm milk, flooding my tongue as I swallowed greedily.

Milk leaked from both breasts, trailing down her belly and soaking the dress bunched at her waist. Shyla’s moans grew deeper and breathier, her pregnant body trembling against me, thighs pressing together on the sofa as pleasure rippled through her core.

Her hand that had been resting on her belly shifted, slowly sliding down to my thigh, fingers brushing closer and closer to the rock-hard bulge straining against my shorts. Every passing second made me harder, the outline of my thick cock obvious and throbbing under the fabric.

“Alex… can I hold it?” Shyla asked breathlessly as I drank from her boobs, her voice trembling with need.

I pulled back a little, lips glistening with her sweetness, to see what she meant.

I looked down at my thigh where Shyla’s hand was inching closer to my bulge. Her fingers hovered just above the thick tent in my shorts, trembling slightly, like she was afraid to cross the final line even though her body was screaming for it.

“You want to hold my dick, Shyla?” I asked, voice low and teasing, pretending I hadn’t noticed how desperately she’d been staring at it.

“Yes, Alex…” she said shyly, cheeks burning as shame and excitement warred on her face. She was a woman in her early forties, heavily pregnant with her husband’s child, and here she was, asking a guy half her age if she could hold his cock. The contrast made the moment even filthier.

“Alex… it’s been so long since I held my husband’s dick,” Shyla confessed, her voice cracking with sadness. Her hand paused, fingers curling slightly like she was remembering what touch used to feel like.

I placed my hand over hers and guided it firmly onto my bulge, pressing her warm palm flat against the thick, straining outline in my shorts. My cock throbbed hard beneath her touch, hot and heavy, the full length pulsing visibly through the thin fabric.

I pressed her hand down harder, letting her feel every inch of it. My cock twitched beneath her palm, the thick shaft flexing and shifting against her fingers as it throbbed, sliding along her touch from base to swollen head.

Shyla’s eyes widened instantly, her breath catching in a sharp, startled gasp as she took in the size, the girth, the sheer weight of it even through the fabric of my shorts. Her fingers flexed instinctively, slowly curling around the outline, tracing the thick curve of the head before sliding down the length of the veined shaft, feeling it pulse and twitch in response to her touch.

A soft, awed sound slipped from her lips, almost a whimper, as she continued exploring me, tentative at first, then growing bolder, her grip tightening gently as if she needed to confirm it was real.

She started moving her hand freely now, slow, exploratory strokes up and down the length, squeezing gently, thumb brushing over the swollen head where a dark wet spot was already forming from my leaking precum. Her breathing grew heavier, lips parted, eyes fixed on her own hand working me.

“Alex… you’re leaking,” she said softly, as she noticed the damp patch spreading across the front of my shorts.

“Yeah, Shyla… take it out, please,” I gave her permission, voice rough with need.

Shyla looked up at me, her eyes wide and disbelieving, like she couldn’t believe she was actually going to touch a dick after so long, and not just any dick, but one this big, this hard, this eager. Her fingers trembled as they moved to the waistband of my shorts.

She pulled it down slowly and carefully, and my cock sprang free, thick and veined, standing straight up, the head swollen and glistening with the slick remnants of Maya’s and Asha’s juices.

She stared at it for a long second, her breath catching in her throat before she slowly reached out. The moment her warm hand wrapped around my bare length, skin sliding against skin, a low groan rumbled from my chest.

“Ahh… your hand feels so warm, Shyla,” I said, my voice rough with relief. Her palm was soft and gentle, yet firm enough to make me throb harder in her grasp. She held me like she was afraid I might disappear, her fingers slowly curling around my girth, taking in the heat, the steady pulse, the way I jumped beneath her touch.

“Alex…” Shyla whispered, her voice filled with shock and wonder. She lifted her gaze to mine, her eyes wide. “It’s so big…”

“You don’t like it, Shyla?” I asked, teasing her slightly as I watched her face.

“No, it’s not that,” she said quickly, shaking her head. “I’ve just never seen one this big.” Her hand began to move in slow, exploratory strokes from base to tip, tracing every vein and ridge, feeling the slickness still coating me. She watched her own hand with quiet fascination, her thumb brushing over the swollen head and spreading the wetness until her fingers glistened.

“So your husband has a small dick… and he still thinks he can neglect a beauty like you?” I asked, my voice low and dark, my hips shifting slightly forward into her grip.

“He’s nowhere close to yours, Alex,” Shyla said, almost in awe. She stroked me slowly again, long, firm pulls, feeling the full length and the thickness that filled her palm and then some. Her breathing grew heavier, her cheeks flushing deeper, her eyes never leaving my cock as she worked it with growing confidence.

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