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Coed Turned Housewife, Ch. 7 – “Holiday Break”
The seventh in a series about innocent Chelsea Pelham and her handsome professor, Dr. Mark Benning.
The car was loaded up, Mark was in the driver’s seat and Chelsea was strapped in with the seat belt digging uncomfortably between the two glorious mounds on her chest. As they navigated traffic and sipped their Starbucks, Mark’s hand wandered over to her, up her thigh, resting meaningfully across her lower belly. Today she had on a thick fleece, but she wouldn’t long be able to disguise her condition.
Just that morning, Mark had brought in a pack of pregnancy tests and they had used all three to confirm the same result: positive. Their frequent, enthusiastic and unprotected couplings over the past six weeks would have inevitably led to this circumstance for most young couples, but the thing that worried them both was the higher likelihood that Chelsea might have a complicated pregnancy due to exposure to the chemicals at the lab. Mark thought she would probably have a multiples pregnancy, with all of its attendant risks and problems. Chelsea was petite and a high-risk pregnancy could be dangerous, for her and the infants both.
It seemed likely that the very chemical lab that had exposed her to a compound that rapidly increased her breast volume and also very likely enhanced her fertility. She had felt “hormonal” throughout the school year, but had chalked it up to the emotional peaks and valleys of the first year at college…Now that first year was likely going to be the only year of her studies, as she knew she would soon need all of her energies to concentrate on becoming and being a new mother. She sighed sadly. There was so much to process.
Mark was silent on the drive, but maintained his loving touches, caressing her hand and leaning over to kiss her forehead before getting out for gas. She thought he must be very pensive about meeting her parents. She felt nervous as hell herself; but she also knew she had no choice. No force on earth could change the path she was on now. Her hands wandered to her slightly-bloated waistline, straining against a pair of jeans. She had a part of Mark inside of her now, growing within her, and they would always be united by this new life. In a way, it was more than if they simply were married, but she wanted to commit to him publicly, legally, with her whole heart and body. If her parents disapproved, she knew the choice she had to make.
They pulled up to Hallen Woods, the tasteful subdivision her father – a retired executive from a conservative Christian national retail chain – moved them to ten years ago. At that time, Chelsea had been an apple-cheeked little girl of eight, excited about riding horses with her friends, eager to attend church ice cream socials, loving Christian summer camp with her middle school pals. Those girls had mostly grown up to attend Big Ten colleges, some had been debutantes. They were an athletic, smart group, but wholesome, dutiful and compliant. Chelsea didn’t know where she herself had gone astray. She looked down at her now overabundant bosom – so out of place among the athletic frames of her affluent friends – and of the coming brood she might be growing inside of her. How many of her friends would stick by a pregnant teen college drop-out? She knew her church community supported large families, but casino oyna most of those mothers were at least in their mid-20s when they married and started families. She felt sad to be growing away from so many of her ambitions and of the wholesome expectations others had for her.
“Chelsea. Chels!” Mark was calling her, shaking her shoulder gently. “Honey, I think we’re here. Want to find your parents while I unload the car?” His late model Subaru was pulled up in front of an expansive brick residence with immaculate landscaping.
She unbuckled and ran up to ring the bell. In just a few moments, her Mom was at the door, crying “Look at you! You’re hereeee!!” As Chelsea called back excitedly, compressing her in a hug. “I’m hereeee!! We’re here!!” She corrected herself.
Mrs. Pelham silver-blonde curls fell chicly around her eyeglasses, but her wrinkled eyes beamed kindness. “Where’s this handsome Dr. Benning?” She teased Chelsea. “Already caught one, eh? We were so surprised that you brought a guest, especially once we read online about how distinguished he is!”
Mark had approached during this speech. “My reputation precedes me?” He pinched Chelsea’s wide bottom discreetly. “Mrs. Pelham, it’s so wonderful to see you.”
Chelsea thought this choice of words odd – “meet you” would have seemed more appropriate. He was going on, “I’m so grateful to be included in your holiday, and looking forward to joining Mr. Pelham for a little golf if the weather permits.”
There were all cheerful and snug, that night and the next day. Mrs. Pelham had laid out a flannel nightgown for Chelsea that proved scandalously tight over her now larger breasts. She couldn’t fit it, and opted for a big sweatshirt and leggings to lounge around in, a shape that hung suggestively over her frame. It’s bulk made her look heavy at best and, at worst, pregnant. There was simply nowhere to hide.
For this reason, perhaps, the Pelhams were rather formal with Mark and Chelsea at dinner the second night. After finishing the meal, the two couples sat across from each other at the table, everyone sipping hot cocoa or herbal tea or – for Mr. Pelham – a single-malt scotch.
“Chelsea and, er, Mark.” Mr. Pelham cleared his throat. “Mrs. Pelham and I have been talking, and we feel that maybe there is something you have come here to tell us.” He reached for Mrs. Pelham’s hand next to his, holding her gleaming, tastefully manicured fingers gently. They were a vision of parental decorum and concern.
Mark sat up straighter. Under the table, his hand touched Chelsea’s thigh as if to silence her. “Mr Pelham, you are absolutely correct. We have come to discuss something extremely serious with you. We want to ask you for your blessing so that we can be united as man and wife.”
Mrs Pelham let out a little shriek-sob. “Oh Chelsea!!” she gushed. “My girl, a beautiful bride!”
Mr Pelham grunted. “Mark, I understand that my daughter hasn’t known you very long. I would be happy to consider an accomplished man like yourself as my son-in-law, but of course my hope would be that the union could wait until she finishes her education and is ready to fulfill her duties as a wife and partner.” Chelsea felt a flush, as the two men talked about her like she wasn’t there.
Mark made a sound of agreement. “Sir, generally I would agree with you fully, and Chelsea’s education is canlı casino a concern to me. However, we need a concession from you to allow our wedding to move forward before that time.”
“You see” – here he reached out to hold Chelsea’s hand and meet her eye – “God has already blessed our union.”
He addressed this remark to Mr. Pelham, a certain pride in his voice, though his tone was respectful. Chelsea knew Mark wasn’t religious, and wondered idly if he had ever taken acting classes, as she observed the seismic effect of his statement. His remark had the effect of detonating a bomb.
Mrs. Pelham gave an enormous cry of excitement. “We’re going to have a grandchild! Oh, thank you, Heavenly Father! Blessed be the Lord!” Mrs. Pelham dabbed away tears. She was holding Chelsea’s hand across the table.
Mr. Pelham was half-standing, mouth open. His look was stern. “Chelsea! My own child! This is not the way a young wife and mother should behave, to conceive out of wedlock. How can we hold a Christian wedding for you in our community with a baby growing inside your belly for all the guests to see? It’s downright indecent. I have to say. I am very, very disappointed in you. Your behavior has been an unfortunate reminder that Eve was the source of all this world’s evil.”
Chelsea had turned scarlet. Her father had never compared her to Eve before, it really hurt her feelings. She understood where he was coming from, though. She herself had considered how embarrassed she would be to have a wedding gown stretched tight around her growing belly and breasts. It would just look scandalous. She understood the shame her father must feel.
Mark interjected. “Mr. Pelham, sir, the weakness of women is well known to us all.” Chelsea wondered if her father detected the note of dryness. Mark continued.
“Chelsea’s…sin…is one of only being too eager to fulfill her wifely duties, to become a young mother as quickly as possible. She yearns for a family of her own, so she can bring pride to the family she came from.” Chelsea looked up, astonished. She had never heard Mark talk this way. She hoped this was all an act for the benefit of her parents. It had to be. He was continuing:
“Perhaps a church wedding is not the most appropriate venue, but there may be something better we can do to honor the commitment of matrimony. I would like to be wed quickly, however, before the circumstances are too obvious. I had hoped we might discuss holding an event during the Easter holiday. I hope you’ll at least think it over. For Chelsea’s sake.”
Mark had discussed none of this with Chelsea. She felt a bit irritated to be left out of her own life plans, but grateful to Mark for handling her father so well. He was practically eating out of Mark’s hand.
Mr. Pelham was nodding. “I see what you mean. I am grateful that you are a man who fulfills his commitment to a sinful, seductive girl. Mrs. Pelham and I will talk this over with and determine how best to move forward.”
He looked at Chelsea now. “In the meantime, young lady, I think you might want to conduct yourself more modestly. Clearly you need more appropriate clothing for motherhood, and I know your mother will help you get everything you need for this next chapter in your life. I also hope you and Mark can focus on growing your family bond with us during these holy days, in celebration kaçak casino of the Lord who died for our sins. You must honor this blessed life inside of you by behaving with purity and modesty.”
Chelsea’s smile was stiff and obedient. The evening meal concluded, Mark walked her up the carpeted staircase to her childhood bedroom. Of course, Mark was sleeping at a safe distance, in a downstairs guest room on the opposite side of the house.
He leaned forward to kiss her forehead, and she lifted her lips, her hands hungrily grasping his shoulders. He stood back, holding her. “Chelsea. I’m disappointed in you,” he was smiling coyly. “What would your father think.” She cast her eyes downward. Her big pregnant breasts hung heavily from her sloped shoulders. It had been a difficult evening for her.
He kissed her chastely on the mouth and moved his lips to her ear, whispering. “Baby, I’ll be in your room as soon as your parents go to bed. I have to help baptize the baby.” His hand traveled down her front, indicating where he would be depositing a hot load of his cum. Chelsea sighed blissfully.
As she crawled into bed, waiting eagerly for Mark to sneak into her room, she massaged her pregnant pussy lips. They were more swollen than ever before, and she was impossibly horny and wet, exuding sticky juice as she gently rubbed lotion into her swollen breasts and bloated stomach. She thought of Mark making love to her; which he had done only the morning before, passionately fucking her doggie style while her big breasts hung down, swinging pendulously with each passionate thrust as he deposited his come in her again and again.
She wondered what her father would do if he found them, and she realized she also no longer cared. She was an absolute slave for her future husband’s cock, and she just hoped she could cum quietly for him here in her pink and frilly childhood bedroom, with her parents asleep in the next room.
The next morning, Chelsea’s condition declared itself by keeping her sick in the bathroom for hours. Mark and Mr. Pelham went to attempt golfing in the crisp winter air, while Mrs. Pelham took her daughter out to the maternity store.
The saleswoman studied Chelsea appraisingly. “You’ve had the most growth in the bosom so far,” she assessed. “I’m afraid we’ll have to put you in the larger sizes and wait for your belly to catch up.”
They spent thousands of dollars on items on cute maternity clothes – including new bras – that would last Chelsea into her second trimester, if not her third. When she came home, she was attired in an adorable mauve maxi dress, her long chestnut hair falling back in voluminous waves around her shoulders, her neckline high but the fabric unable to disguise the voluptuous, mouth-watering curve of her growing breasts. She was a vision of abundant, youthful motherhood-to-be.
Mark met her at the door. He gazed slowly at her, up and down. His eyes flickered and she couldn’t read his expression. She couldn’t tell if it was distaste or desire. “Goddamn, you Christian girls are sexy,” he under his voice as he kissed her chastely on the forehead.
Mr. Pelham was quickly approaching behind him.
“Oh, much better, dear!” He smiled proudly. “Now honey, you look like a beautiful and appropriate young mother-to-be! I can’t wait to see how big you grow!” And he cheerfully held his hand out wide against her waist, as if he caught a prize fish. Chelsea felt the nausea rising in her again, but took comfort. The visit had been a success. She and Dr. Benning were engaged to be married.
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