my big but adorable pregnant husband

ch 14

I just bought a condom for the first time in my life. The bright red package is much fancier than I initially expected. It's made in Japan and apparently, it has texture? Why do I suddenly buy a condom? Well, I have no idea. I have no plans to use it in the near future either. Perhaps, it's a mere out of pure curiosity.

It just happened.

As I walked through the pharmacy, tossing flossing thread, toothpaste, body wash, and air freshener into my basket, I passed a section filled with lotions, condoms, pregnancy tests, and headache medicine. At first, I didn't notice what those packages in red, gold and blue, or the lame ones with butterflies on a black background were. Upon closer look, I finally realized that those are what people called normal condoms. They certainly looked nothing like the condoms I use for medical examinations. Among the various manufacturers, I found one that looked familiar. It was the same manufacturer that I use at the hospital.

Well, a condom is still a condom. But I wondered what was inside. Are there any differences besides the part where the semen is stored in the tip? I was genuinely curious. I glanced at the cash register and saw that an elderly man was in charge. I put one in my basket and paid with a card.

In the end, the old man packs the condom in a brown paper bag with the others. Somehow, I am in a pleasant mood. I remember a famous literary work that talks about how having s*x with the person you love leaves a citrus taste in your mouth. I laugh a bit in the store parking lot. It's a little complicated for me to know if that is true or not.

It's been two months since Iwamoto and I have been living together. We started during the summer, and now it's already autumn. The mornings and evenings are cold, I'll have to unpack my heavier coats soon. Iwamoto is still wearing a T-shirt. He no longer wears tank tops, but that is the only change―as if summer is still floating around him. I always ask him each time I turn on the heat, but he has never complained. Maybe his good metabolism is resistant to temperature differences.

Iwamoto is a forgiving, brave, gentle, and patient man.

Iwamoto had previously said at the Chinese restaurant, that his emotional instability might be due to PMS. Although I have never observed him getting irritated before or during, he did indeed seem distressed by the abdominal and back pain during menstruation.

I remember when I rubbed Iwamoto's belly for the first time. Watching him suffer from menstrual cramps on moving day. Since then, it became my job to warm him up and rub him whenever the pain is intense. Of course, I am a complete amateur when it comes to massage. I am not qualified to take on such a role, but I still take advantage of it anyway.

"Oh, that feels good..."

It was fun to watch Iwamoto relax his shoulders and laid his big muscular body on the couch. His eyebrows, which can be described as stern, loosen, and his thick lips curled into a slight smile. His muscular back expanded and shrank with every breath he took. A trained body wrapped in a clean white T-shirt should have no s*xual traits whatsoever...but I felt guilty just by looking at him. It was completely different from when I used to pet some dogs in the park and how they would show me their chubby bellies. Because with Iwamoto, my hand movement was filled with evil pleasure.

Pleasure, laced with guilt.

"It always hurts quite a bit at the beginning... Sorry."

"No worries."

"Should we go to that Chinese restaurant?"

"Oh, I'd like that. It was good last time."

"Or Mexican food?"