Oreos||BWWM

Chapter 17

Putting it bluntly, around this time, the woman baring the child/children will become extra horny. Partners, take advantage of that. A wise man once said, ahem, "fuck her right in the pussy!"

Okay, before all else, congrats to @flying_wingzz for making me laugh with her attempts at a dedication. And, for that, she wins. Why did i choose number fifteen (15)? Because, it's my favourite number, deal with it!

October 4, 2014 (Reagan is 14 weeks and 5 days, Alana is 14 weeks and 4 days)

Mya is on the side. ♡

The once quiet and peaceful house was disrupted by the doorbell ringing. Reagan groaned, slowly untangling herself from Nathaniel's arms. He grumbled, tightening his hold around her, pulling her flush against him.

Reagan blew out a breath of frustration, pushing him off of her with as much strength as she could muster up. He rolled over, teetering at the edge of the bed before he fell flat on his face.

Yet, somehow, that did not wake him up one bit.

And, as if to prove her point, he let out a loud snore. Reagan glanced over at the digital clock on the nightstand, letting out an annoyed grunt once she saw the time, seven o'clock on the dot.

The doorbell rang once again. She huffed, standing up and grabbing one of Nathaniel's many shirts that littered the floor. What kind of messed up person comes to another persons house at this time of day.

Though, it shouldn't even be considered as "day" since she was practically a walking zombie right now. She yawned, slowly making her way down the stairs just as the doorbell sounded once again.

"I'm coming," she grumbled out, not even bothering to look through the peephole to see who it was, opening the front door without a second thought.

She was met with a beautiful blue eyed blonde standing on the other end, her hand in the air, about to ring again. Although, the face she was making at Reagan made her look at little less appealing.

The young woman looked Reagan up and down, her face contorted in one of disgust, making her feel self-conscious at the sudden remembrance of the kind of clothing she wore.

Or, better yet, lack of.

Reagan hid her exposed body behind the door in embarrassment while the young woman mumbled to herself. "I thought he was over this phase already," she scrunched up her nose, pushing Reagan out of her way so she could get in.

"Excuse you," Reagan stumbled back a couple feet, but luckily managed to regain her balance, her hand protectively over her stomach.

Rolling her eyes, she wiped the hand she touched Reagan with on her blazer. "You wouldn't move, what was I to do," she asked rudely.

Staring at her curiously, Reagan asked, "what is your name," as kindly as possible even though this girl was quickly getting on her nerves.

The woman completely ignored Reagan,  instead, her eyes wandered around, looking for a certain someone.

"My name is-," Reagan took the initiative to speak, but got cut off by the womans' hand, signaling her to stop.

"Nathaniel," the lady called out, her voice unnecessarily loud, especially at this time of morning.

After about a minute or so later, footsteps began padding down the stairs, but soon stopped short.

After hearing his name being screamed at the top of someone's lungs, he figured he should come as soon as possible. And, in his hurry to answer, he didn't bother to put on anything other that his tight black Calvin Klein briefs. A favourite of Reagan's, but her shy little self would never admit that.