Simon can't wait to get you pregnant.
He didn't say as much, but you can tell by the way he fucks you. No man thrusts as he does without wanting a very specific outcome.
***
In the beginning of your relationship, you confided that hormonal birth control is not an option for various reasons. He nodded, suggesting that you just keep using rubbers indefinitely.
You took a deep breath, assuming he would get frustrated, as the others did. Unable or unwilling to go without a condom, it didn't matter to them. They moved on.
Simon didn't.
One night, in the heat of the most intense orgasm of your life, you demanded that he remove the rubber. He stopped thrusting, silent as he regarded you in the dark, eyes shining. Your stomach sank at the realization that you may have put him off. He pulled out, his large cock leaving you feeling empty.
You covered your eyes with one hand and swore under your breath, convinced he might leave. Your eyes snapped open at the audible snick of him stripping off the rubber and tossing it aside. He pushed your thighs apart and buried his tip in your opening as he asked if you're sure.
As you said yes, he pushed in all the way, the bottom of your lungs feeling bruised at the rough intrusion. He felt bigger, as though the condom were limiting his size. You were finally experiencing his full girth, tears prickling at your eyes as you held onto him for dear life.
So big.
***
Simon's not worn a condom since.
He comes against your cervix every night. Sometimes again in the morning.
You've forgotten to mark the first day of your last menstrual cycle on the calendar.
It's fine. You'll figure it out.