La necesidad femenina de una tetona a embarazarse🍒🍑

The world changed forever the day the gender virus began to spread. For many, it was a disaster; for others, a revelation. For me, it was both things. Within weeks, my body transformed radically and irreversibly, leaving me trapped in a new form I had never imagined. The transformation of my torso was especially striking. My pectorals, which had once been flat and firm, began to swell and round out. I watched, incredulous, as my breasts grew day by day, slowly filling my shirts in a way that was disconcerting for me. The sensation of their weight and movement was something completely new for me. My nipples became more sensitive, and the outline of my breasts defined itself more and more, giving me a full and feminine bust.My waist was narrowing down, giving me a more curvy figure, while my hips were expanding noticeably. The structure of my pelvis also changed, and over time, my hips became wider, providing me with a typically feminine silhouette. My legs were slimming down and lengthening, and I noticed that even my gait was changing, adapting to this new distribution of my body. I felt a lightness and grace that I had never experienced before. With every step I took, I could feel my hips swaying smoothly, and my new figure attracted gazes that made me feel a mix of shame and pride. But the most painful thing wasn't the physical change, it was the reaction of my own parents.Deeply religious and rooted in their beliefs, my parents did not see my condition as a disease or an unfortunate change. For them, it was an abomination, a divine punishment. The night they threw me out of the house, the cold and darkness were nothing compared to the icy indifference in their eyes. Without a place to go, I felt completely alone. It was then that the Wilsons, my neighbors, intervened. Always a kind and generous couple, but never had I imagined how far they would go to help me. They offered me a home, a safe refuge in the midst of the storm that was my life. Mr. Wilson, with his deep and comforting voice, told me he had always wanted a daughter. In his words, I found a consolation I didn't know I needed. I began to feel accepted, loved, and even protected. Mrs. Wilson was incredibly kind too. She helped me create my new identity as Connie. She taught me how to apply makeup, choose the right clothes, walk with grace. Everything she did was with genuine sweetness, although sometimes I couldn't help but notice the shadow of sadness in her eyes. I knew that Mr. and Mrs. Wilson had tried to have children for years without success. I wondered if, in some way, I was filling a void in their lives.



With time, I settled into my new life. But something started to change. I began spending more time with Mr. Wilson, much more than a normal daughter would do. I started with small gestures: a touch of the hand, a gaze that lasted a bit longer than necessary, a smile that seemed to have a hidden meaning. At first, I tried to ignore it, convinced that it was just a phase. One afternoon, while walking in the park, I noticed many men looking at my butt, and the truth is that if I had an enormous butt, not mentioning my huge tits that bounced with every step, there were even several guys who whistled at me. Something inside of me lit up. I liked the feeling of being desired by others, when suddenly far away. I saw a mother playing with her small son.Something in that scene awakened in me a deep desire to be a mother, a longing I had never felt as a man. I couldn't tear my eyes away from them. Later, the mother sat on a bench and began to nurse her baby. Seeing how the child fed and how the mother held him with love and tenderness, a maternal instinct overwhelmed me in an overwhelming way. I felt a physical and emotional need to care for and feed a baby, as if that were my deepest and most natural purpose. I felt a void inside me, a burning desire to experience that unique connection. As the days passed, I noticed Mr. Wilson couldn't stop staring at my cleavage when I wore blouses, and when I washed dishes, I caught myself gazing at his butt in the window; immediately I knew he desired me one day after I finished bathing, without realizing it, Mr. Wilson entered the bathroom and saw me completely naked, his eyes went wide, seeing my enormous tits at that moment. Something inside me awakened. A desire I had never felt before. Mr. Wilson wasn't just an older man who had given me a home; he was attractive, in a mature and powerful way. His presence made me feel things I hadn't experienced before. I knew it was wrong, inappropriate, but I couldn't help it. The new Connie was a woman, and that woman was starting to discover her own power.Mrs. Wilson, busy with her activities, didn't notice how things between her husband and I were becoming more intense. But I did. And so did he. The gratitude I felt towards him for having saved me from poverty transformed into something darker, more dangerous. I started dressing more provocatively when he was near, leaning in a bit more when picking up something, laughing at his jokes in a way that I knew excited him. Then, one night, when Mrs. Wilson went on a trip to visit some relatives, the inevitable happened. We were alone in the house, and the atmosphere was charged with tension. I approached him in the kitchen, wearing a silk camisole I had bought days before, one that I knew he would notice. Our gazes crossed, and at that moment, I knew I had reached a point of no return. With a trembling sigh, I approached him, feeling his breathing accelerate.



You don't have to do this, Connie, she whispered, although her hands were already moving towards my waist. I want to, I replied, my voice barely a whisper. It was true. I didn't just want it, I needed it. I needed to feel desired, loved in a way that my parents had never given me. And so, everything detonated with a kiss, then a caress, the gratitude transforming into something much deeper and forbidden.

After a good while of touching each other, my father pulled me towards him, making me lie on top of his body. He started rubbing his penis against my clitoris and I didn't know how to react anymore. If I let it happen, he would... and I wanted it so badly. He held himself back and then pushed it in. I didn't do anything to stop it, I just enjoyed every inch that entered my vagina. I started moving timidly but he was thrusting with force from below. I got used to his rhythm and bounced back





He gripped my breasts tightly as I continued to ride him. His hard stake and roughness had me at a thousand in bed, showing the same beast he was on stage. I placed my hands on his chest to reaffirm my movements, which were becoming faster and faster. He didn't give any signs of being about to come, but my orgasm was imminent. At that moment, he grabbed my ass and started fucking me with a lot of force from his position. I let myself fall onto his body and came like never before. I was exhausted and rested on his chest, but he kept giving it to me hard. The next morning, I woke up in his arms, feeling trapped between guilt and desire. I knew I had betrayed Mrs. Wilson, the woman who had taken me in as a daughter. But I also knew I couldn't stop myself. The idea of giving Mr. Wilson what he had always desired, the children his wife could never have, began to obsess me. What would happen if I got pregnant? How would he react? How would that change our lives?




While time passed. I knew I was playing a rather dangerous game, but couldn't avoid it. I had become Connie, the perfect daughter for the Wilsons, but also something more. Something that could destroy their marriage... or transform it into something new...