Kinky Mom – St. Petersburg, Part 4

I did something very uncharacteristic for me two days ago. I did a short post, then took it down again. Not because there was anything wrong with it, quite the opposite. What led up to the moments I posted in the form of two videos, was the real story, not the moments themselves.

I’m a Virgo. Born September 9, smack in the middle. I never really paid much attention to my Zodiac Sign. That is, until about six months ago. I started looking into my traits, my sex life, relationships. I did so for a reason. My 40th birthday was coming up. Nobody outside my family knew that I was forty (except for the CIA probably). Throughout the past 10+ years, I always pretended to be much younger. A good ten years younger. Even then, most people I met thought I was at most that age, probably younger.

Now that my 40th birthday was around the corner, I asked myself more frequently what I was looking for in a partner, and why I was still single. It didn’t bother me, I was just curious. So I looked up what Virgo’s are like:

 Private and defensive, this is someone who needs her defense mechanisms respected but still broken by the right partner.

That’s me. I don’t trust people, my defenses go up immediately, and yet, I want to be dominated by the right person. I’m the ultimate pain-in-the-ass, demanding submissive. And now I thought I had found a person who could brake through my defense mechanisms. I just didn’t know how to get through to him. And I wasn’t getting any younger.

Now I’m pregnant.

And horny.

And kinky.

And still myself.

Even without a partner, I wanted my own child. Someone I could raise, care for, bring into this world. I just could not imagine myself living the same life for another 10 years and then regretting I never had a child. Of course, there were many reasons to say this is the wrong time. School for one, raising a child on my own, and the list goes on and on.

But I did it anyway.

I don’t know who the father is, I’m glad about that. I was lucky that I got pregnant at the first attempt. My doctors were skeptical and prepared me for the possibility that it may just not happen. I’m grateful it did.

Jump forward five months to November.

The baby-bump is undeniable. I went from a C-cup to an E or even F cup. I put on 15 pounds. And I’m meeting him in St. Petersburg. At first, I try to hide it. I had sent him a picture of my larger breasts a few weeks back, hoping he would get the hint. He didn’t.

Now it’s undeniable. I feel guilty about not having told him. At the same time, if he cares about me, does it really matter that I didn’t bring a corset? Can moms not be kinky?

I didn’t get pregnant to put pressure on him. Quite the contrary. I wanted a child and I did not want anyone to be responsible for my decision. If someone was going to be my partner, if he was going to be more than the occasional travel partner, he had to take me the way I was.

Now that I’m writing this post, we’re already planning our next meeting in a few months. I’ll still be pregnant if all goes well. He has no problems with it, at least so he says. His taste for kink, his ability to make me do what I would never do on my own, is undiminished. And yet, when he touches me, it feels different. He is more cautious, more tender, less harsh. His words have not changed. His emotions, I feel, have.

My own defenses are coming down, I care for him. I’m a typical Virgo. That is my weakness. I have exposed myself in so many ways to him. In real life, apart from my family, nobody knows I’m pregnant. And still, emotionally, he treats me the way he always has. I’m his toy. Good for a few days of kink, the way he likes it. Beyond that, his barriers are unbroken. Being pregnant makes no difference to him.

He’s right, it’s not his child. I did not get pregnant to manipulate him. Everything I did, I did because of who I am. Still, I was hoping he would have more of a response to me. If he did, he did not show it.

Being kinky does not go away. Not for him, not for me. That’s how I ended up on the streets of St. Petersburg, wearing my catsuit, showing a slight baby-bump, taking pictures in sub-freezing temperatures. In a way, it made me feel good to be treated the way I’ve always been. I’m fucking kinky. And I’ll be a fucking kinky mom, with him or without.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

26 comments

    • I usually don’t pay attention to it, but I was always aware of my sign and some of the characteristics associated with it. I guess it’s just something I grew up with, but not something that runs my life. ๐Ÿ˜˜

      Like

  1. […] Why he didn’t get the hint about my other surprise when the buttons popped, I will never know. Maybe he did, but didn’t want to say anything. I was nervous about his reaction and didn’t want to break the mood. I wanted to tell him right then, but didn’t have the courage, yet, to do so. I’m glad I did later. […]

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This news is fabulous, and once again I’m full of admiration for you taking the wheel of your life and steering it where you want it to go. Because I have been reading sporadically I hadn’t got to this ‘announcement’ one – so belated congratulations. Like you and others who’ve commented, I affirm its entirely possible to keep going with whatever way you like to play – kinky or otherwise. Timing becomes the main issue, but you can do it!
    Your teeny weeny compadre will be so loved and in such great hands.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks, Posy, for the ‘belated’ congratulations! The little one is already making him/herself noticed. I am so grateful for the positive responses – it’s a bit scary to think of myself as having to care for a baby, but it’s also an enormously exciting time. xoxo

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s