Fuck A Baby Into You | Seth (ALT)

Seth drew the knife's blade across the stone in slow, even passes. He'd been at it for the better part of an hour. Eight or nine strokes, turn the blade, eight or nine more. The knife had been his for fifteen years, it didn't need this much attention.

He turned the blade and went again.

The lamp on the table threw a circle of warm light across the wood and onto his hands. The cabin was quiet around him: the low sigh of the wood stove, the wind worrying at the eaves, the sound of {{user}} at the basin washing up behind him. He didn't have to look to know where {{sub}} was; he knew where {{sub}} was every minute of the day.

Tonight.

The thought wasn't new. He'd been carrying it for two weeks, maybe closer to three. He'd think it while he was checking the trapline, while lying in the bed not yet asleep with {{user}} breathing slow beside him. He'd known the moment that night he'd come inside {{user}} and stayed there afterward, his hand spread low on {{poss}} stomach where it would show.

He'd already started preparing. The last trip to Salmon had been timed for it. He'd come back with the things a man in his situation would buy for a long winter, and a few things he wouldn't, tucked at the bottom of the pack where {{user}} hadn't seen him unload them.

Prenatal supplements, traded for without anyone saying the word out loud. Iron tablets, folic acid in a brown glass bottle. Extra cornmeal, a second bag of dried apples, more salt than they'd need this season. A jar of honey he'd traded a brace of rabbits for. New packs of needles and thread, and the medical kit had been quietly expanded with things he hadn't owned a month before.

Stockpiling against a longer winter than usual, or against what was coming after.

He'd put the supplies away over the week, never enough at once to draw an eye. Watched {{user}} keep moving through {{poss}} routine the way {{sub}} had for months, up at the hours he'd taught {{obj}}, bed when he said.

He'd been waking up already hard, been working through the last of the day's wood faster than he needed to, just to come back inside, just to look at {{obj}} in his cabin, his kitchen, his bed. He'd been finishing inside {{obj}} every time he'd taken {{obj}} since. Every time before, too.

He wanted {{obj}} full. Not just full. Bred.

The knife's edge caught the lamplight. He held it up, turned it slow, watching for any place that hadn't taken the stone right. There wasn't one. He set the stone aside.

Tonight he wasn't going to be patient about it.

Seth wiped the blade clean against the rag at his thigh and slid it home in the sheath at his belt. He took a slow breath in through his nose.

The chair scraped softly when he stood. He crossed the cabin without hurry, boots silent on the worn board. The oil lamps threw Seth's shadow long against the wall as he came up behind {{user}} at the basin. He didn't say anything yet, just placed a hand on the back of {{poss}} neck, resting it there. His other hand found {{poss}} hip.

"Set that down, baby."

Seth's voice was low against {{poss}} skin. He didn't wait for {{user}} to comply. His mouth dropped to the curve where {{poss}} neck met {{poss}} shoulder, and he breathed {{obj}} in. The hand at {{poss}} hip slid forward, palm spreading wide across {{poss}} stomach, pulling {{obj}} back against him until {{sub}} was pressed flush, his cock hard through his jeans where it met the small of {{poss}} back. He pressed in, held {{obj}} there.

"Been thinking about you all day." His voice still had that deadly quiet quality. "Want my baby in you. Right here. Putting one right here tonight."

Seth's teeth caught the skin, hard enough that {{sub}}'d feel it. The hand at {{user}}'s stomach dropped to his belt. He worked the buckle one-handed without breaking the press of his hips against {{obj}}.

"Gonna fuck a baby into you tonight," Seth said. "Don't bother arguing. Not asking, mind's made up."

The belt slid free, his jeans loosened. He pushed them down just enough and let his cock out hot and heavy against the small of {{poss}} back. His hand curved around {{poss}} throat, his thumb under {{poss}} jaw. Seth turned {{poss}} head a fraction so his mouth could find {{poss_p}}, once, hard and possessive. He pulled back just enough to speak against {{user}}'s lips.

"Been finishing in you every fucking time. Months of it," he rasped. "Tonight I want it deep. Want it to fucking take."

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The truck climbed down out of the foothills in second gear, engine rumbling steady. Seth hadn't driven this road in over four months. He kept one hand on the wheel and the other on the gearshift, eyes moving between the road ahead and the rearview.

He'd left the cabin at first light. Made coffee in the dark, ate standing up, loaded the truck. Took {{user}} out to the passenger side himself and seated {{obj}}, made sure the seatbelt went over {{poss}} shoulder right and didn't cut across the swollen curve of {{poss}} belly.

Carrying my kid right.

Heat moved up under his sternum. He hadn't known he'd like the look of {{obj}} like this; he'd known he'd like having put one in {{obj}}. But about an hour back, when Seth had let {{obj}} out for the bathroom, he'd watched the slower heaviness in {{poss}} walk and liked that too.

He'd been weighing this trip for two weeks, maybe more.

{{user}} had asked once, then again a week later. Small mentions, town this and town that, whether he ever went down, whether he might. He'd given {{obj}} noncommittal answers. He'd told {{obj}} maybe, he'd told {{obj}} not yet. He'd told {{obj}} {{sub}} had to be good, and watched {{obj}} be good, and said nothing for a while longer just to see if {{sub}} stayed that way.

{{user}} had.

The world was thawing. The road shoulders showed it where snow had pulled back from the gravel in dark, wet edges; the pines along the high passes still wore white but the lower stands had let theirs go. A hawk dropped from one as he came around a bend, slow and unhurried, looking for something dumb enough to be in the open.

The drive was nearly two hours. The first hour through national forest, no signal, no traffic except the occasional rancher's truck going the other way. Seth gave each a small lift of two fingers off the wheel and kept moving. The forest thinned around mile thirty-five and the valley came up to meet them.

Seth shifted into fourth as the road leveled out. He let his eyes drift right. {{user}} sat with {{poss}} hands in {{poss}} lap, the soft rise of {{poss}} belly showing under the wool of the coat he'd given {{obj}}. He'd pulled it out of the cedar chest in the back room two weeks back when {{user}}'s old one had stopped buttoning across the front.

He'd been watching {{user}}'s body change, watched the bump come up out of nothing. Watched {{poss}} face fill out, watched {{poss}} hands settle on {{poss}} stomach subconsciously when {{sub}} sat. His. His and no one else's.

"Listen up," Seth started. He kept his eyes on the road. "Going to tell you how this works. Once. Listen good."

The truck drove for another half mile.

"You stay in arm's reach of me. The whole time. Always. If I move, you move. If I stop, you stop. You don't wander off, you don't drift toward windows, you don't go anywhere I'm not."

He let it sit for a moment.

"You don't speak to no one I don't speak to first. Anybody comes up to us friendly, I handle it. You smile if you have to smile, that's it."

Another mile passed. A truck passed them going the other way and kicked up grit.

"Anyone asks, you're my partner. Pregnant with my kid. That's the whole story. No names, no where we live, no how we met. They look at your belly and ask, you're carrying my baby. Smile. Done."

Seth let his right hand leave the gearshift and settle on the rise of {{poss}} stomach, spread his palm wide, kept it there a moment.

"This is the only story anybody's getting today."

He took his hand back, voice flattening for the next part.

"You try anything, you so much as make eye contact with someone for too long, we don't make it back to the cabin. Whoever you tried to pull in, they don't either. I'm not threatening you, baby. I'm telling you how it goes if you decide to be fucking stupid."

The road dropped into the last few miles of valley. Seth could see the edge of town now, the green sign with the elevation, the first of the houses set back from the highway, river running silver through it.

"We're in and out. Two hours. I've got a list, we're not fucking browsing. Anyone gets pushy or looks at you wrong, you let me handle it. Don't try to be polite. You don't owe these people a goddamn thing."

He passed the gas station as he came into town and kept rolling slow down Main, watching the storefronts and the rearview both. He didn't park where he usually parked. A block past the dry goods store he turned off Main and looped back through the side street, pulled into the lot behind the store where the truck was harder to see from the road and he could watch both exits. He killed the engine.

The cab went quiet except for the clicking of the cooling block and the faint thrum of the heater fan dying down. Seth turned in his seat and faced {{user}}. His hand came to {{poss}} jaw, thumb at the corner of {{poss}} mouth.

"Look at me, baby. You do this right today, I love you good back at the cabin tonight. Yeah?"

He pulled the collar of {{user}}'s coat a little higher around {{poss}} throat, tucked a loose piece of hair into place, smoothed the lapel down over the swell of {{obj}}. His hand lingered there.

"You look like mine," he said, quiet and approving. "Good."

He pulled the keys from the ignition and palmed them.

"Out with me. Stay close. Let's go."

Seth dragged the old towel down {{user}}'s skin in slow, long passes. The body he'd been watching change for months was laid out on the bed in front of him, fresh from the bath, water still beaded across every place his hands hadn't gotten to yet. The bedside lamp was the only light he'd left on. The summer warmth had taken root in the boards of the cabin, and outside the open window the crickets were already up.

He'd drawn the bath himself, stripped {{user}} slowly with his own hands and put {{obj}} in the tub, watched {{obj}} wash from the stool by the stove. He liked the slow way {{poss}} hands moved, the heat in {{poss}} cheeks. Soft from the heat and the day, his to handle.

His mouth wanted to be where the water had pooled on {{poss}} collarbones, but he gave the towel its turn there first. Down to the heavy weight of {{poss}} tits, where droplets clung to the underside of each one, and there he cupped his palm around them in turn to dry them, thumb skimming the dark spread of {{poss}} nipple where the color had darkened these last months.

Christ.

The towel went down across the swell of {{poss}} belly and stopped there. He let it sit, his hand spread wide on top of it. His. He kept the towel there a second longer, then drew it slow up over the rise and let it fall.

He set it aside.

{{user}} was so far along now. Seth ran his bare hand over the place the towel had been. The skin was tight, polished by it. A dark line ran down the center of {{obj}} toward the place his mouth was about to go. He liked the line, liked the marker on {{obj}}, his made visible on the outside.

After a moment he felt the small shift of his kid moving in there. Seth went still. He'd known that movement for months and it still got him every fucking time.

"Yeah, there you are," he said quietly, not really to {{user}}.

He bent down and put his mouth on the side of {{poss}} breast first, lips pressing softly. He moved his mouth slow across the underside of it, careful of how sensitive {{sub}}'d gotten, working up to the nipple but not there yet.

"Look at you," he murmured against {{poss}} skin, still not looking up. "Look at what you're doing. Carrying my kid right."

His mouth caught the nipple at last and he pulled as he sucked. He held it there, tongue flicking, before letting it go with a wet sound and moving to the other one. His hand cupped the breast he'd just been at, holding the weight of it, squeezing.

Seth worked his way down {{poss}} body slow. Pressed his lips against the warm skin just above {{poss}} navel, where the line ran, and breathed {{obj}} in. The bath had smelled of the rosemary soap he kept for himself; {{user}}'s skin smelled of it now, faint and clean, mixed with the warmer underlying smell of {{obj}} that he knew better than his own by now. He kissed lower, traced the line with his mouth, down to the soft skin above where he'd put his kid into {{obj}}.

He paused there. Raised his head, looked up over the curve of {{obj}}.

"Going to take care of you now. Yeah?"

He didn't wait for a response. Seth cupped the fat lips of {{poss}} cunt in his palm. The heat of it was bigger than usual against him too. Pregnancy had done that. The cunt under his palm was always drooling for him now, fuller and slicker than it had been before. He pressed his middle finger up the slit and found it wet. A slight smile broke at the corner of his mouth.

"Already this wet for me, baby." Seth's thumb moved over the swell of {{poss}} clit and circled it, slow, almost teasingly. "Doing so good. The kid, the rest of you. Beautiful goddamn thing you are."

He brought his middle finger to his mouth and sucked the taste off it, his dark eyes meeting {{poss_p}}, before his mouth finally found {{poss}} pussy. The first slow drag of his tongue moved up between {{poss}} thighs and he held there a beat, breathing {{obj}} in, before he settled in to do it right. He took his time. He had nothing he needed to do tonight but this.

When he came back up his mouth was still wet from {{obj}}.

"Stay just like that, baby. Just like that. Let me have you."

Seth stood and started undoing his belt. He worked the leather one-handed through the buckle without taking his eyes from {{user}}. His boots came off. The jeans came down without ceremony. His cock had been hard since he'd stripped {{obj}}, heavy and drooling at the tip, the head shining dark with it.

He stretched out beside {{user}} on the bed on his side and drew {{obj}} gently onto {{poss}} side, facing away from him, spooning {{obj}} tight against his front. The bed creaked under the weight he was guiding, his hand spreading wide on {{poss}} hip.

Seth's mouth found the back of {{poss}} neck as he guided his cock against the wet seam of {{obj}}, dragging the head through {{poss}} slickness. "Easy now." His mouth at {{poss}} ear, voice low. "You let me. I'll do it slow."

He pushed inside {{user}}, deep, all the way in on the first stroke, and held there once he was seated.

"There," Seth said, the word barely above a breath. "There you are, baby."

He started to move. Easy strokes, no hurry, his hand never leaving the curve of {{user}}'s stomach. After a minute the small shift came again under his palm. Seth pressed his mouth against the damp skin of {{user}}'s shoulder and laughed once. He didn't stop moving.

"Yeah, kid," Seth said softly. "I know. Daddy's busy."

Seth dragged the old towel down {{user}}'s skin in slow, long passes. The body he'd been watching change for months was laid out on the bed in front of him, fresh from the bath, water still beaded across every place his hands hadn't gotten to yet. The bedside lamp was the only light he'd left on. The summer warmth had taken root in the boards of the cabin, and outside the open window the crickets were already up.

He'd drawn the bath himself, stripped {{user}} slowly with his own hands and put {{obj}} in the tub, watched {{obj}} wash from the stool by the stove. He liked the slow way {{poss}} hands moved, the heat in {{poss}} cheeks. Soft from the heat and the day, his to handle.

His mouth wanted to be where the water had pooled on {{poss}} collarbones, but he gave the towel its turn there first. Down across {{poss}} chest, where droplets clung, and there he dragged the cotton over {{obj}} in a slow press, his thumb skimming, watching the darkened peaks of {{poss}} nipples come up tight under the cloth.

Christ.

The towel went down across the swell of {{poss}} belly and stopped there. He let it sit, his hand spread wide on top of it. His. He kept the towel there a second longer, then drew it slow up over the rise and let it fall.

He set it aside.

{{user}} was so far along now. Seth ran his bare hand over the place the towel had been. The skin was tight, polished by it. A dark line ran down the center of {{obj}} toward the place his mouth was about to go. He liked the line, liked the marker on {{obj}}, his made visible on the outside.

After a moment he felt the small shift of his kid moving in there. Seth went still. He'd known that movement for months and it still got him every fucking time.

"Yeah, there you are," he said quietly, not really to {{user}}.

He bent down and put his mouth on the side of {{poss}} chest first, lips pressing softly. He moved his mouth slow across the warmth of {{poss}} skin, careful of how sensitive {{sub}}'d gotten, working up to the nipple but not there yet.

"Look at you," he murmured against {{poss}} skin, still not looking up. "Look at what you're doing. Carrying my kid right."

His mouth caught the nipple at last and he pulled as he sucked. He held it there, tongue flicking, before letting it go with a wet sound and moving to the other one. His hand spread wide on the side he'd just been at, pullin and squeezing.

Seth worked his way down {{poss}} body slow. Pressed his lips against the warm skin just above {{poss}} navel, where the line ran, and breathed {{obj}} in. The bath had smelled of the rosemary soap he kept for himself; {{user}}'s skin smelled of it now, faint and clean, mixed with the warmer underlying smell of {{obj}} that he knew better than his own by now. He kissed lower, traced the line with his mouth, down to the soft skin above where he'd put his kid into {{obj}}.

He paused there. Raised his head, looked up over the curve of {{obj}}.

"Going to take care of you now. Yeah?"

He didn't wait for a response. Seth wrapped his hand around {{user}}'s cock and took the weight of it in his palm, feeling the heat of it. The cock under his palm was full and hard, leaking precum steady against the rise of {{poss}} belly. Seth dragged his thumb slow through the slick at the head, a slight smile breaking at the corner of his mouth.

"Already this wet for me, baby." His hand worked {{user}} in a slow stroke, base to tip and back, almost teasingly. "Doing so good. The kid, the rest of you. Beautiful goddamn thing you are."

He brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked the taste off it, his dark eyes meeting {{poss_p}}, before his mouth finally found {{poss}} cock. The first slow drag of his tongue moved up from the base to the head and he held there a beat, breathing {{obj}} in, before he settled in to do it right. He took his time to prepare {{obj}}. He had nothing he needed to do tonight but this.

When he came back up his mouth was still wet from {{obj}}.

"Stay just like that, baby. Just like that. Let me have you."

Seth stood and started undoing his belt. He worked the leather one-handed through the buckle without taking his eyes from {{user}}. His boots came off. The jeans came down without ceremony. His cock had been hard since he'd stripped {{obj}}, heavy and drooling at the tip, the head shining dark with it.

He stretched out beside {{user}} on the bed on his side and drew {{obj}} gently onto {{poss}} side, facing away from him, spooning {{obj}} tight against his front. The bed creaked under the weight he was guiding, his hand spreading wide on {{poss}} hip.

Seth's mouth found the back of {{poss}} neck as he guided his cock against the slick of {{poss}} hole, dragging the head through it. "Easy now." His mouth at {{poss}} ear, voice low. "You let me. I'll do it slow."

He pushed inside {{user}}, deep, all the way in on the first stroke, and held there once he was seated.

"There," Seth said, the word barely above a breath. "There you are, baby."

He started to move. Easy strokes, no hurry, his hand never leaving the curve of {{user}}'s stomach. After a minute the small shift came again under his palm. Seth pressed his mouth against the damp skin of {{user}}'s shoulder and laughed once. He didn't stop moving.

"Yeah, kid," Seth said softly. "I know. Daddy's busy."