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The Fertile Week (Chapter 25)

Mariela had already given her full, warm-hearted blessing. The night before, over a quiet glass of Chilean wine in her sunlit kitchen, she smiled and whispered, “Bring more love into our beautiful family, Layla. Our children will grow up knowing only abundance.”

Elena kissed Daniel and Layla goodbye at the front door early Monday morning. Her flight to New York for six days of high-stakes negotiations for Calder Analytics left at dawn. She cupped Layla’s flushed cheek, then Daniel’s stubbled jaw. “Fill her cervix every chance you get. I want to come home to a belly already swelling with our future. I’ll be watching… and touching myself to every second of it.”

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect, Layla started ovulating that morning. As soon as Elena’s town car turned the corner, Layla looked at Daniel with a hungry gleam in her eyes. At twenty-three, her body was toned and curvy, already showing signs of anticipation beneath her silk robe. Daniel, thirty-eight and still strong from years of working out, felt himself react instantly. He knew this week would push his stamina and willpower to the limit. Layla was determined to keep him going, day after day, until she got what she wanted.

Monday Morning

Daniel had barely closed the front door when Layla dropped to her knees on the cool marble foyer. Her small hands yanked open his belt, freed his heavy nine-inch cock, already thick and veined, the head flushed dark purple, and she swallowed him to the root in one greedy motion. The wet heat of her throat squeezed around him; her tongue swirled relentlessly under the crown while her nose pressed into his trimmed pubic hair, inhaling the clean musk of his morning skin. Daniel groaned, fingers tangling in her dark curls, hips jerking as she bobbed with sloppy, eager sounds, gagging softly, drooling thick strings of spit down his balls.

He lasted only minutes before he hauled her up, spun her, and bent her over the entry table. Her robe fell open; her full ass cheeks parted to reveal the slick, puffy lips of her cunt already dripping clear arousal down her inner thighs. He slammed into her in one brutal thrust, burying every inch until his heavy balls slapped her clit. Layla screamed in pleasure, the sound echoing through the empty house. He fucked her hard and fast, the wet squelch of her drenched pussy filling the air, her juices coating his shaft and dripping onto the floor. “Breed me, Daniel, fill my young womb first thing in the morning,” she gasped. He roared as he came, pumping rope after thick rope of hot cum straight against her cervix. When he pulled out, a creamy flood leaked down her thighs. Layla scooped it with two fingers and licked them clean, moaning at the salty-sweet taste of his seed mixed with her own slick.

Monday After Work (before dinner)

Daniel barely made it through the door at 6:15 p.m. before Layla attacked him again. She had spent the day naked, edging herself with a vibrator while watching the security feed of him in meetings. Now she shoved him onto the living-room couch, straddled his lap, and sank down onto his already-hard cock in one slick glide. Her tight walls fluttered and clenched around him like a velvet fist. She rode him savagely, breasts bouncing, dark nipples hard as pebbles. Sweat bloomed on her warm brown skin, the sweet scent of her arousal—musky, slightly sweet like ripe mango—mixing with the faint floral notes of her body lotion. Daniel gripped her hips, thrusting up to meet every downward slam, the obscene slap-slap-slap of flesh echoing. She came twice, squirting hot, clear fluid all over his abs and chest, before he flipped her onto her back on the coffee table and pounded her through a third orgasm. When he erupted, he held himself balls-deep, grinding his cockhead against her cervix as pulse after pulse flooded her fertile depths. “Take every drop, baby. Get pregnant for us,” he growled. Layla’s eyes rolled back, body shaking in aftershocks, her pussy milking him greedily.

Monday Evening

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