We were going to spend more time lying here by the pool. After all, the doctor says that the light is good for my pregnancy. But we can barely keep our hands off each other so John takes me back to his apartment.

Despite having been here many, many times, I’m still surprised at the elegance and luxury of his apartment. Some pieces of his furniture cost more than all the money I’d make in a whole years working at the bank. But to John, it’s all the same. “Just trying to stimulate the economy,” he says. He really couldn’t care less whether he had the cheapest table or the most expensive one. Unless you’re talking boats, cars, or motorcycles, material possessions aren’t important to John. Which is a little strange for a billionaire, I’ll admit.

“Let’s start with just regular sex,” I say. “No foreplay this time.”

“You really want it, don’t you?” says John. “It’s fine with me.”

His hands are already on my breasts underneath my clothes.

“All right,” I say. “That’s enough. I’m the pregnant one and I get what I want. And right now I really just want your cock deep inside me.”

“Is this one of those weird pregnancy cravings? Like how women want pickles and ice cream together or something?”

“I don’t think it’s that weird to want your cock inside me.”

John laughs and I help him get his pants off. We’re both naked now and I try to lie on my stomach but my belly is getting too big.

“From the side,” says John, and shows me how I can lie on my side and he can lie behind me.

His cock is so long that he doesn’t have any trouble getting it inside.

I groan as it enters me and fills me up completely.

“I read this in a pregnancy book,” says John.

“Some pregnancy book…” I manage to say, between groans as John continues to thrust hard into me.

It’s not long before I’m coming. For some reason, everything feels extra sensitive today.

John’s only a few moments behind me, increasing his speed as I come and releasing his seed deep inside me, holding his cock in me all the way up to the hilt.

“That’s it baby,” he says, stroking my hair as I continue to experience the orgasm, which rocks through me causing me to scream out.

“That felt…good,” I manage to say, flopping back on the bed.

Everything is more effort when you’re pregnant.

“I wanted to tell you something,” says John. “And I don’t know of a better time…”

“Yeah?” I say.

“I love you,” says John, simply, staring me in the eyes. “I’ve felt this way for a long time… I don’t know how long but the time never seemed right. Finally, I realize the time is never going to be perfect until I make it perfect…”

“I love you, too,” I say, and he leans down and kisses me gently on the mouth.

The days continue and turn into weeks. I spend most of my time at John’s place. We talk about our plans for when the baby is born.

The baby’s not premature, that’s for sure. It’s taking its sweet time.

Meanwhile, I make sure to keep my blood sugar stable with plenty of fruit. I’ve never looked better in my life and my hair and skin shine. John’s always bugging me to eat more and he keeps me properly fed. It turns out he’s actually quite a good chef. For health reasons, we’re not spending most of our meals together at his place, rather than eating out. That way we can be sure that I eat plenty of the right foods and don’t just fill up on expensive but not necessarily healthy restaurant food.

Finally, the day comes and my water breaks.

John’s at work, but he rushes home through the traffic on his motorcycle. (I forgot to mention what had happened to him when he rushed over to the hospital when I was sick. He had a minor accident but just got back on his bike and ignored his superficial injuries.) Even though it wasn’t a bad accident, I’ve been worried ever since…

But John arrives at his apartment (where I’m basically living now, even though John’s paying the rent on my other apartment). He’s got the bags already loaded and he helps me get into the station wagon.

“We’re all set,” says John, looking nervous for perhaps the second time in his entire life. “Right?”

“All set honey,” I say. “Let’s go have this baby!”

John turns around to look in the rear view mirror and backs the car out of the parking space. We’re in the garage underneath his massive Manhattan. apartment building.

He puts the car in park suddenly and turns to me.

“What’s going on?” I say. “Shouldn’t we get to the hospital. I don’t know how long I have before I go into labor and…”

“This will just take a minute,” says John. “Hey, I may be a billionaire but timing isn’t necessarily by strong suit…”

He suddenly opens up his car door and gets out of the car. Now I’m freaking out. I need to get to the hospital pronto.

“What the hell are you doing?” I say calling out to him.

He comes around to my side of the car and opens my passenger door.

But he doesn’t make any move to undo my seat belt or anything. He’s also not reaching into the glove box…he could have done that anyway from his seat.

He gets down on one knee on the cold parking garage concrete floor. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a little box.

I know where this is going and I burst into tears of joy. I’m completely overwhelmed with emotion.

He cracks open the box and a tasteful yet very large and surely very expensive engagement ring greets me.

“Sarah,” says John. “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

I’m crying but I manage to say, “Of course, John.”

He slips the engagement ring on my finger. He must have had it modified because it fits on my slightly swollen pregnant finger just perfectly.

We stare happily into each other’s eyes for a moment, after he kisses me, but he says, “Well, all right, we really better get going.”

“Yeah,” I say. “My contractions are…”

“Got it,” says John, already running around to the drivers’ seat again.

He doesn’t speed, which impresses me, but we get to the hospital probably with plenty of time to spare, all because John spent hours mapping out the best routes to the hospital at different times of the day, depending on different traffic patterns which are all tracked online.

He’s not a billionaire for nothing, I tell myself.