The Pregnant Little Nerd (BXB) (M-Preg)

Prologue (R)

•_•: Oof this is dark... Rated R for a reason.

July 6th 
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The Pregnant Little Nerd

The man held the cigarette between his lips, his grip tightening on the pipe as he yanked it from the pile of rubble next to him with his unchallengeable strength. Blue bloodshot eyes followed the back of the slim figure in front of him, he felt as if the boy wanted to taunt him.

The thin white wife-beater shirt soaked and sticking onto his body like a second skin.

No jacket?... In this weather, it was obvious he wanted to show some skin.

The black pants were tight on his ass, you could almost see the indentation of his underwear. His hands tingled at the thought of the boy's underwear.

If he believed the boy to be like him, the black bag in his hand had none other than some toys brought along for the job. He used to do that as well, charging extra if a client wanted to pleasure him with his own toys, it was something common around these parts.

As a car sped past, its headlights missed his face, but clearly, this man was uniformed. What should have been obvious was the blood-stained combat boots which were ignored as the driver was in a hurry. He ran a hand over his freshly shaved head, he liked the feeling of finger running over the nicked flesh.  Contemplating what to do, when the sudden urge to hide under his bed sent a raking shiver through his body, the echoes of taunting laughs and name-callings silenced as he smacked his head with tight fists.

The figure of the boy was becoming smaller when an image ran through his head.

The image of his wife's slender back arching in ecstasy as the man below her slammed her down on his length in powerful and uneven thrust.

He was only gone for four months...not even half a year. Had she fucked others, or had this man suddenly become someone important in her life?

It was that image of his wife that encouraged him...his feet began to rapidly pat against the wet road, pursuing after the boy.

Ever predictable the figure had stopped to hand over some paper to an elderly man sitting against the last building that met the bridge. A grocery cart full of garbage blocked the view of the boy, but by the smile on the elderly man, he concluded the boy must've done a quick job right there, as he tucked something into his plastic bag.

This boy was everything he used to be, perhaps if he was warned of his future he wouldn't have done what he did. If he could warn the boy of his future, which led to a miserable excuse of a life with an adulterous cunt wife. If he could simply pave the path the youth could stop selling his body.

In a thick suck of smoke, the man flicked his cigarette to the ground.

The pipe tightly gripped in his hands as he followed up the bridge.

Legs carried him closer that he could see the boy's shoulders shivering as his bare skin was met with the humid cold wind, the heavy storm brought great damage to the town as the light post ahead landed on its side.

A quick glance back, the elderly man was no longer there and the sound of his noisy cart was carried with the wind.

His boots heavy and his mind full of images; of bodies intertwined, of arched backs and leaking cocks, of bouncing breasts and large hands gripping children's thighs, of bleeding limbs.

Heads caved in... and of shaking hands.

Helicopters falling from the sky... and passing out from the heat of the sun.