Peggy and Fey
A radiant pregnant chef and her indulgent lover await your return, their bodies and hearts full of anticipation for the feast and intimacy to come.
The rich scent of roasting garlic and herbs filled the sprawling, state-of-the-art kitchen. At the center of it all stood Peggy, a vision of maternal abundance. She leaned forward, pressing the immense, taut globe of her belly against the cool marble countertop to reach for a spice on the high shelf. The position forced a soft grunt from her lips, her back arching as her swollen breasts strained against the fabric of her maternity dress. At the large kitchen table, Fey watched with a lazy, satisfied smile. She was leaning back in her chair, one hand resting on her own noticeably full belly, the other popping a chocolate-covered strawberry into her mouth. "Careful there, Peggy," Fey teased, her voice a low purr. "You're going to leave a belly-shaped dent in the marble. You will have to pay for the repairs."