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“It’s so—big.” Mikasa remarked.
She and her husband, Jean, were currently making their fourth biggest decision as a married couple.
Big decision number one: deciding to get married in the first place, a decision that had taken months of waiting on Mikasa’s part and years of finding enough courage to actually do so on Jean’s. A life-altering decision that, ultimately, had taken less than five seconds to make, as Mikasa had exclaimed “Yes” with tears prickling her eyes the instant Jean bent down on one knee.
Big decision number two: deciding to move away from their cramped apartment downtown and into a spacious, cozy cottage in the woods, the reason for which coincided with big decision number three: deciding to start a family.
They hadn’t actually planned to start a family right away, it was just that one day they had moved into their new home and the next morning Jean had awoke to Mikasa vomiting into the toilet.
And finally, big decision number four: buying a car.
Jean, who’d been sitting in the driver’s seat, figuring out what button did what, hopped out of the car to join his wife. “That’s the idea.” He placed his palm on her enlarged belly and smiled. “Who knows how many more we’ll have after this one?”
Mikasa playfully slapped his wrist and said, “One is plenty.” Laughing, Jean walked to the rear of the car, bending down to examine it for any imperfections.
As much as Jean loved some of the side effects of his wife’s pregnancy—namely the larger breasts and increased sex drive—he knew it had to be hard on her. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how excruciating it must be to carry a constantly growing child for a day, let alone nine months.
The salesman approached the couple. “Would you prefer a larger model?” He cheerily asked. “It could come in handy one, two years from now.” He eyed Mikasa’s belly; she self-consciously wrapped her sweater across her stomach.
Jean gave the hood of the car a tentative whack; it produced a hollow, metallic noise. “This is perfect. Thanks for your help, sir.”
Mikasa waited in the car while Jean paid the salesman. The vehicle was by no means cheap, but being a peace ambassador paid surprisingly well. Besides, after everything they’d endured as soldiers, they deserved to live lavishly for once.
Jean vividly remembered when they’d infilrated Marley years ago and had seen a car for the first time. Remembered how Sasha had thought it was a car at first, then felt sad. Remembered how beautiful Mikasa had looked with the midday sun glistening on her raven locks, then felt slightly less sad.
They’d been married for two years now, had dated for three, and Jean still couldn’t believe he’d won the heart of his dream girl—literally. Harder to believe still was that in a couple of months, they’d be welcoming their first child into the world.
It was too good to be true, and yet it was.
Their first night as newlyweds, Mikasa had asked if she—if they—deserved happiness after all the bloodshed they’d caused as teenagers, as young adults.
“Yes.” Jean had replied instantly. “We did a lot of bad, I won’t deny that, but we did a lot of good, too. And even after the war, we’re continuing to do good. So I’d say our good easily outweighs our bad by now. Besides, what else did we fight for all those years, if not for peace and happiness?”
His wallet now considerably lighter, Jean hopped into the driver’s seat and kissed his wife, right on the mouth and right in front of the salesman. Despite being quick to react, Mikasa looked puzzled when they parted. “What was that for?”
Jean shrugged. “I love you.” He said, as casually as if he were commenting on the weather. In front of them, the salesman was retreating to his office.
Mikasa kissed his cheek and said just as casually, “I love you, too.”
Jean drove home with one hand on the steering wheel and the other entwined with his wife’s. Probably not the safest way to drive, but where they were going, safety wasn’t a particularly big issue—their car was the only one on the road.
Along the way, Mikasa occasionally hummed in response to Jean’s comments about the car—“Comfortable, isn’t it?” “It’s so quiet, for something so big.”—but was otherwise silent. This was nothing out of the ordinary—Mikasa Ackerman-Kirstein had never been much of a conversationalist. What was amiss was the fact that his wife’s sweater was still wrapped tightly around her stomach.
Jean chose his words with the careful precision of a wedding cake decorator. “Darling, I know your stomach’s not…normal sized right now, but you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Hell, if I’m being honest, and I am, I’d say you’d never looked prettier.”
It was true—Mikasa was positively radiant, even now with her flushed cheeks and tousled ponytail.
“It’s not my stomach I’m upset about.” Mikasa said. “It’s how the car man looked at me. Like I’m a baby-making machine instead of the capable soldier I once was.”
Jean promptly swerved to the side of the road and parked the car. “Wha—Jean, what are you doing?” Mikasa exclaimed.
Jean turned to his wife and grasped both her hands. “Yes, you’re pregnant. Anyone with eyes can see that. But if someone looks at you and all they see is a pregnant woman, well, they can go fuck themselves. You’re the strongest woman, hell, the strongest person I’ve ever known.” He placed a hand over her belly and smiled. “Who just so happens to be carrying a little boy in her belly.”
Mikasa placed her palm over his. “Thanks for your kind words, Jean, but she’s a girl. I can feel it.”
Jean wasn’t about to question his wife’s judgement. She was the one with a baby within her, after all, and if she felt that their unborn child was a girl, then it probably was.
He kissed her knuckles before putting the car back in drive and continuing down the rural road. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Mikasa fidgeting in her seat. “Everything alright?” He asked.
Mikasa suddenly leaned sideways and licked at Jean’s ear lobe, causing his grip on the steering wheel to loosen. “You trying to make me crash, woman?” He exclaimed.
Now she bit his ear, resulting in a brief flash of pain first, heightened arousal second. “I want you, Jean.” She whispered.
“N-Now? In here?!” Jean wasn’t opposed to the idea—far from it, actually—but the car, while fairly spacious, wasn’t that spacious. That, and Mikasa was five months pregnant, which would confine them even further. “What if someone sees us?”
Mikasa lifted Jean’s seatbelt to stroke the conspicuous bulge in his slacks. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, Jean. Apart from maybe some cattle, no one’s gonna see us…or hear us.” She continued palming his erection. “Besides, we gotta test out the car somehow. Remember how we tested out our house?”
Jean remembered how they’d fucked in nearly every room that first night. The freedom of being able to be as loud, as rough, as nasty as they wanted to. They’d fucked against the kitchen sink, on the dining room table, in the backyard garden amongst the marigolds and pansies. They’d fucked anywhere they physically could, trying new positions and revisiting familiar ones. It was pure bliss. It was sublime. It was…
Jean came in his slacks with a groan. Mikasa looked at him. He looked at her.
The car all but careened to the side of the road as Jean kissed his wife fervently. Feeling like a sex-crazed teenager, he lifted his wife’s skirt; she promptly yanked it back down.
“Not yet, mister.” Mikasa teased, With considerable effort, she crawled into the back of the car, but not before first grinding her ass against Jean’s face, giving him a tantalizing sampler of what was soon to come. He stumbled in after her, bumping his head on the roof in the process.
With Mikasa’s belly and Jean’s long legs, the back of the car proved to be a tighter fit than originally anticipated, meaning they’d have to think outside the box. Luckily, their adolescences had consisted of doing just that.
“Kneel on the floor.” Mikasa ordered as she scooted towards the center, leaving Jean no choice but to kneel on the floor. She lifted her skirt and removed her panties, revealing to her husband her deliciously pink, moist cunt. The sun-warmed leather burning the backs of her thighs, she spread her legs until the heel of each foot was resting on the door handles.
“Yes, ma’am.” Jean, now kneeling, lapped up his wife’s pussy juices like a parched dog, leaving no square inch untouched. When he’d licked it clean, he moved to his wife’s clit, which he sucked at gently. After a minute of this, Mikasa moaned and came directly into her husband’s mouth. He swallowed her fresh fluids before unbuckling his pants and pulling his briefs down partway.
Jean looked at her, silently asking if she was ready, and when she nodded to confirm that yes, she was, he slowly slid inside of her, an inch at a time. Once their bodies were connected, Mikasa squirmed around a little, adjusting to his size. Every time they joined bodies, Jean couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly they fit together, like two pieces of the same puzzle. This time was no exception; he
“What are you waiting for?” Mikasa exclaimed. “Just fuck me already.”
Jean laughed before pushing into his wife with the force of a train barreling towards the station. Not expecting this, the back of her head fell against the leather seat with a soft thunk.
“Sorry.” Her husband apologized, pushing into her more slowly this time. He gradually picked up the pace, and Mikasa met each of his thrusts, the car bouncing all the while. Jean’s cock hit her G-spot just right, and Mikasa moaned, her legs trembling with pleasure. Jean’s knees, too, began to wobble at the sight of his wife’s lust-clouded eyes and flushed cheeks.
Again and again Jean thrusted into her G-spot, and each time Mikasa moaned louder and louder. Eventually they reached a point where she was practically screaming, and, feeling himself grow ever closer to his release, Jean grit his teeth.
“Come in—AH!—inside me, Jean. I can’t—Ahh—get any more pregnant. AHHHHHH!”
He gave her G-spot one last good thrust, and that was all it took for her to howl with escasty, her cunt clenching and unclenching around his cock. Jean emptied himself inside his wife with a groan and rested his head on her lap, exhausted.
They stayed like that for a while, Mikasa stroking his hair and listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. Jean must’ve fallen asleep with his cock still inside her, because the next thing he knew his wife was snapping her fingers in front of his face. “Let’s go home, sleepyhead.”
There was a squelch as he slid out of her. Once they were decent enough, Jean helped Mikasa into the passenger seat. “Such a gentleman.” She teased.
He laughed. “Shut up.”
She kissed him. “Make me.”
At home, Jean carried Mikasa bridal-style to their bed, where they continued where they’d left off. Where last time had been hurried and rough, this time was slow and languid. Where the car had been a puddle, the bed was an ocean. Afterwards, they laid side by side, Mikasa’s hands resting on her belly and Jean lazily stroking her hair.
“Hopefully we didn’t wake the little guy.” Jean said.
“Girl.” Mikasa corrected.
“Girl, right. Sorry.” He scooched closer to his wife. “Hey, sweetheart.” He whispered against her belly. “Sorry Mommy and Daddy woke you, if we did. This is how you were made, if you were curious.”
Mikasa smiled and closed her eyes. Jean couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her this relaxed. Couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen her this relaxed. “I can’t wait to meet her.”
“Me neither.”
He fell asleep with his lips pressed against her stomach and his hands tangled in her hair.