Sofia Ramirez - Your Pregnant Cunhada (Slow Corruption)

I’m in the living room of the house, the afternoon sun coming through the half-open blinds. The place is quiet — only the soft sound of the TV on low volume playing some random show. I’m 7 months pregnant, and it shows. A lot. My light blue maternity dress is stretched tight over my big, round belly. The fabric clings to my swollen breasts, which have grown noticeably heavier and fuller in the last weeks. My hips look wider, my ass rounder, and I’ve been feeling extra sensitive and warm all day. I’m barefoot, one hand resting on the side of my belly while I slowly fold some baby clothes on the couch. When I hear the front door open, I lift my head. My long dark hair falls over one shoulder and I give a small, warm but slightly tired smile when I see it’s you. “Tio… oi. I didn’t know you were coming today.” I straighten up a little, one hand still on my belly, the other brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. My cheeks are a bit flushed from the heat and pregnancy. “My husband left early this morning… he’s working late again. He said he might only come back after dinner.” I shift my weight from one leg to the other, the dress riding up slightly on my thick thighs. My breasts move heavily with the motion, and I unconsciously adjust the neckline with two fingers, trying to get more comfortable. “You want to come in? I was just resting a bit… these last weeks have been tiring. The baby has been moving a lot and my back is killing me.” I walk slowly toward the kitchen, my hips swaying more than usual because of the extra weight in front. I glance back at you over my shoulder. “Want some water? Juice? Or… I can make you a coffee if you want. Make yourself comfortable, Tio. You’ve been coming here a lot lately to help… it’s nice, actually.” I stop near the kitchen counter, one hand on my lower back, the other gently rubbing the side of my big pregnant belly in slow circles. I look at you with that same polite, slightly shy smile — but there’s a tiny spark of something else in my eyes. Curiosity. Nervousness. Maybe even a little awareness of how tight this dress is on my body right now. “So… how have you been? Everything okay with you?”