Even with her breasts pulled heavily down, her cleavage aroused me. Her dress was too short, her sauntering walk in the August heat too inviting for a mother. When we were finally alone, I told her I'd never seen a pregnant lady naked. 'I would feel so much better that way...it's so hot...', she responded; so we both worked to peel off the awkward clothes. Her breasts, no longer restrained, hung full, almost touching the swollen belly. Her nipples were dark and very large, and grew instantly erect when the cool air touched her perspiration. I touched one of them. 'They're so sensitive..', she invited, and I tasted it gently. We fell on the couch. When I touched her thigh, she lifted her leg. Her pussy was dripping. She had an almost perverse fascination for her sex parts. She told me how she likes to watch herself masturbating in a large mirror, and how it arouses her to watch the contractions of her vagina and anus when she cums. That, she explained, was how she had gotten pregnant: alone one day, she had decided to spend it with herself and her clitoris. She had relaxed all day, and then unplugged her phone and taken a very hot leisurely bath. The steaming water made her feel she was in a different world, floating warm and safe, far from reality. She titillated herself with delicate strokes of her fingertips across her nipples and her belly as she shaved her underarms, her legs, and all of her pubic hair. She liked to see herself as naked as she could, and so regularly shaved herself as completely as possible, even becoming quite expert at the area around her anus, which she could manage only by touch. When the water began to cool she had toweled off, slowly massaged body oil into as much of herself as she could reach, coated her vaginal and anal area liberally with heavy oil, wiped her hands and spent some time brushing out her hair. She lay back on a stack of pillows on her bed, facing a large mirror, with a large drink. She had a lamp that cast a spotlight on the area between her legs, warming it as well. The bath and the oil made her skin feel very soft and sensitive, and the steady drone of the air conditioner blotted out all noise. Usually when she masturbated she would fantasize, but now she felt comfortable with herself, and wanted to feel her own fingers stroking the silky smooth outer lips of her vagina slowly up and down, pressing a bit on each trip as they passed over her clitoris. Presently in the mirror she saw the lips begin to pout and then to part slightly. Her loins began to tingle and she could feel herself lubricating. She propped her head with the pillows so she could relax completely while watching the source of the pleasure she was feeling. She paused to squeeze one of her nipples very hard, and noticed the subtle movement of her vagina that accompanied the throb she felt. She did it again, and a droplet of her moisture began to trail down toward the pink of her naked anus. She pulled the lips apart with both hands, causing her erect clit to stand out, throbbing visibly as she tugged. She began to stroke and squeeze the area just above her clitoris very gently, rewarded with one throb for each stroke. She watched her inner lips begin to swell and pout. The trail of moisture had reached the entrance to her anus; she took pride in the quantity of liquid she was generating. Now, with a dollop of Vaseline on her middle finger she began to rub back and forth across the upper part of her clit, pressing more firmly as she became more aroused. She lay her head back, luxuriating in the comfort as the tingle grew in her loins, welling stronger, until her vagina had begun to blossom open in the crescendo before orgasm. It spasmed hard in one of those cums that left her still tingling, letting herself down still rubbing slowly, holding one of her soft breasts in her other hand. The need was still there, and soon she had her vibrator pressing next to her clit, bringing her toward another climax, and then another. She worked on herself until she felt drugged, lethargic after hours of masturbating and many orgasms. When one of the local boys had walked in unannounced, she hadn't even tried to stop him. - Now, she felt at peace, languid on warm summer days, and the small movements within would comfort her. Sometimes on a weekend she spent all day in gentle orgasms. In the morning, we would eat without ever getting dressed, her swelling belly almost resting on her thighs. She ate slowly, tasting every mouthful; then we would lay together, touching, kissing, teasing our bodies and slowly making love. Once she started, it took only warm words and gentle pressure on her clitoris to produce several throbs. She lay on the couch listening to the stereo while I worked, stroking herself to the slow music. Sometimes I just sat and watched her lovely nude vagina and anus, squeezing every so often to her touches. I'd come by, lean over and kiss her to a few throbs, and she would take my penis in her mouth to run her tongue around the head until it began to swell. She just lay in her juices; it would crust her buns, and when I came, my semen stayed where it landed in a trickle down her chin and neck as she swallowed. In the evening I brought dinner to her. Eating reminded us of the delicious things we'd tasted, and after eating she continued her mild orgasms. They were heavy, lazy, and her nipples barely showed the erection of her earlier orgasms. After dark, I finished the chores while I watched her slowly press a dildo at her pussy until it was swallowed completely. I could see her contract on it as she eased it in, and my penis was again aroused. I stood over her to have it sucked full hard while she pushed the dildo with her heel, her hips slowly heaving. The climax of our climaxes was a long, slow lovemaking. We'd get comfortable and I'd slide into the wet and tired pussy in place of the rubber surrogate. As we rocked together, she would squeeze one of her nipples and one of mine, and I would do the same. Our identity had so merged that the distinction had blurred between making love and masturbating. We were lying on our sides, so she was able to take the lower breast in both hands. She squeezed the puffed aureole with her thumbs and a squirt of milk ran over her hand. As she shifted more to her back to lick it from her hand I leaned forward to suck the swollen nipple. A small quantity of milk flowed, and it made her hotter. "The other", she whispered, and I repeated what had been done, tasting her warm, somehow familiar milk. Now she began to milk the breast in earnest, pulling with both hands. Hot streams of milk washed my chest, and I could feel her pussy contract on me as her hands urged milk from the nipple. Timing my thrusts to her tit-milking, we brought her to the brink, and held her there for many seconds. With wide eyes, she pressed her clit to me, using me to stimulate herself when needed, holding the cum just on the edge as her vagina slowly expanded in the wind-up before orgasm. When finally it contracted on my penis my orgasm was triggered, sending hot streams of semen to mix with her juices and leaving us with eyes closed, wallowing in a mixture of our secretions, feeling one another's fading throbs as she pressed her belly and breasts to me, holding me tightly in her arms.