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Her eyes brighten even more as her tongue swipes across her lips hungrily. She looks so freaking cute in her overall sweatpants. They look soft and comfortable, draped loosely over her rounded stomach, fuzzy pink slippers covering her purpletoenails. Seeing her like this solidifies my resolve to move in with her. Now just to persuade her.

“What did you bring?” She shuts the fridge absentmindedly, not even bothering to remove her eyes from the bags in my hands.

“Breakfast.”

“What kind?”

“All of them.”

Bright hazel eyes flick up to mine as I set the bags on the kitchen counter. Pulling out my haul, I set each item down in a row for her inspection and choosing.

“Are you going to make all of this?” she asks.

“Not right now but eventually, yes. I’ll make whatever you want.”

Bambi holds a package of chocolate chips to her chest like a treasure, gasping with delight. I wasn’t sure how I would sexually respond to her being pregnant. I thought maybe her stomach would kill my libido or something, but I can tell you right now that is so not the case. My cock twitches with interest watching her pouty little lips part making an O shape, remembering they looked similar when wrapped around my cock.

I shake my head to clear it of the dirty thoughts growing there. I can’t make a move on her till I know she wants it. Thankfully she doesn’t notice my lude staring at her tits which have grown since the last time I saw her naked. I bet they’re extra sensitive now too. I can just imagine her moans as I suck on them and_NO. Stop thinking about fucking Bambi and get back on task.

“What would you like me to make you Bambi?” My voice comes out husky and deep, but she doesn’t seem to notice, only the food in front of her is important now.

She peruses her options and nibbles on her lips before answering. “Omelet and chocolate chip pancakes.”

“That seems pretty normal for you.”

“I haven’t told you what kind of omelet yet.” Her eyes twinkle with mirth and her smile is infectious. I want to make her smile like that forever.

“Okay then, hit me with it. What kind of omelet am I making?”

“A spam and skittles omelet.”

I can’t stop the bark of laughter that booms from my chest. I should have known better. Her cravings are the weirdest things I’ve ever heard of a person eating.

“And I would like the omelet on top of the pancake please,” she adds.

“Of course. Why would you eat it any other way?”

“I wouldn’t, it’s the only way to eat a spam and skittles omelet.”

Circling the kitchen island, I can’t keep the massive smile from my lips as I get to work picking out all the ingredients needed to make her ridiculous breakfast. Eggs, pancake mix, chocolate chips, butter. I didn’t buy spam or skittles but apparently those are things she already had in her pantry. Bambi sets the two ingredients down next to the eggs and starts fiddling with the spam can.

“Whoa there, what do you think you’re doing?” I pluck the can from her hands and hold it out of her reach.

“Making breakfast for dinner?”

“No, you’re not. I am making you breakfast for dinner. You are sitting your cute ass down and watching.”

Setting down the spam can, I direct Bambi by her shoulders to the stool on the opposite side of the counter and I don’t release her till she’s comfortably perched on the cushioned stool.She doesn’t argue and just grins at me as she props her chin on her hands.

I return to the other side of the island and pry open the can of spam I just relinquished from Bambi.

“Ooh can I have pickles while I wait?”

I kind of like that she asked me instead of getting them herself. Now she’s learning. I pull the three pickle jars from the bag on the counter and line them up in front of her.

“Which one would you like?”

“How did you know I would want pickles?” She cocks her head to one side playfully and her ponytail swooshes behind her, falling over one shoulder. It’s gotten longer in the past six months, and I don’t think she’s cut it at all.