Tom Holland smuts

Pregnancy Fetish

Following on from Tom's confession we'd spent many sessions making love and trying to make a baby. It was almost indescribable, the closeness, the gentleness, the togetherness. I had never felt so loved in my life, each gentle stroke and caress over my skin imbued with love and devotion. Feeling Tom press his soft lips gently all over my body, worshipping every inch of me as he murmured how much he loved me, his arms holding me close and tender as he slid into me, touching every inch of me stroking me passionately, rocking higher and higher. Totally wrapped up in each other, needing nothing but each other as our bodys meshed together, riding out every climax tight, tight against each other as we fell.

We'd been so hopeful of it working, of his seed filling me, he stayed plugged inside me as long as he could using the time to kiss me deeply as we individually day dreamed of this time being the time a baby was made. He'd fall asleep next to me holding my stomach, anticipating the swell

But it wasn't to be. Not yet. We'd been curled together on the sofa, tangled together, our legs slotted together, arms around me, head on his chest as the Simpsons played on the tv and we scrolled through our phones showing each other stupid animal videos from Tik Tok, cosy and content as he pressed the occasional kiss to the top of my head and idly ran his fingers over my thigh tracing light circles. It was heaven, domestic as fuck. I smiled at the dumb panda falling down a hill on my screen when I felt a warm oozing. My smile froze and I lifted the blanket from over us as Tom turned to look at me, his happy countenance turning puzzled at the look on my face as I hurried away tossing a "just a minute" over my shoulder as I scurried for the toilet.

I hurried inside and shut the door behind me with a thud as I yanked quickly at my leggings and knickers down as I sat on the toilet seat. Still clean and clear but, I pulled at some tissue folding it up and tentatively wiped at myself, drawing out the paper to see a bloody streak. Hearing Tom walking towards the door, I dropped the paper into the bowl grabbing another piece, and almost holding my breath I wiped again. Blood, dark red staining the paper. I took in a hitching breath as Tom knocked gently on the door

"You good baby?" he asked with concern

"Jus -just a minute" I stammered out as I sat frozen the tissue in my hands. I felt then the trickle slide down below, as a tear did the same on my face. I hadn't even known quite how much I'd wanted his baby till it wasn't there. Reaching to the small toiletry bag tucked behind the toilet I unzipped it and pulled out a pad, unfolded it, removed the backing and slowly, placed it into my pants, tears sliding slowly down my cheeks. I stood, pulled everything up and flushed. Opening the door I bumped into Tom standing waiting for me.

"What's up?" He questioned reaching up to cup my face, "what...." he tailed off as realisation of what it could be hit him.

Before he could ask I blurted it out. "My period just started" and I saw his face crumple. A sudden sob, burst from him as he gathered me tightly against his chest, as his hands ran soothingly over my back, up and down, comforting. His chest heaved against me as he sucked in shuddering breaths trying to hold back for me. One hand remained on my waist as he raised the other to his mouth, biting on the knuckle to hold back the noise as the hot salty tears slid from his eyes. He'd been so certain you'd have his baby, that there was just no room for failure - his desire for it overcoming any obstacle, it was a when, not an if, in his mind.

I reached up to hold him close, it was our loss. Not just mine, not just his. I ran my hands over his back, holding him as his body shook with held back sobs. "It's okay darling, its okay" I murmured into his chest - the need to console him balancing my own devastation "It's just a blip in the road, there's always next month. Let it out sweetheart, I know, I know. It's hard" He dropped his head down onto my shoulder, holding me tight to him as he cried, sobs softer now, but still enough to shake his frame as his tears dampened my top. I petted his soft hair, running my fingers through it, cradling his head to me. Much as I would a babys. That thought causing me to inhale sharply, heart aching at the intangible loss, just as my stomach cramped tightly, mirroring the hurt in my heart. We stood consoling each other drawing strength from the others solidity. In bed that night we held each other close, my head tucked under his chin as more slow tears fell together.