Donna walked around the pool and could practically feel the eyes upon her. That was nice as she kept her body fit and had it not been for the little girl she was carrying, no one would have guessed she had ever given birth. But what really made Donna's engine tick was the thought of some eyes following the precious little bundle in the crook of her arm and the perverted thoughts swirling behind those eyes.
Donna's boyfriend of three years ago had been the kind of guy she liked to be around for a good time. But when she got pregnant, she knew he was not the dependable type to help raise a kid or - heavens forbid - marry her. But he was decent enough to help out with the bills and get the spare bedroom in her condo set up as a nursery. In a frank discussion in which they both quickly buried the idea of getting hitched, he was sincere in offering some sort of child support.
Although appreciative, Donna declined, not wanting to tie the guy down. He might not be the marrying type at this stage of his life, but at least he wasn't an asshole and she didn't want their child to be a burden for him. And for her own sake, she didn't want to feel any obligation to him. So two months after the birth of their daughter, he was history and neither of them had anything but good memories of the good times.
While perusing parenting websites, Donna had read a blog about mothers being creeped out by people who seemed to take an avid interest in their children - usually men in a restaurant or in a store or at a park. Donna read the article several times, including the responses from other parents who recounted their own experiences. It wasn't just fascinating, it was...well, that explained why she was rubbing her crotch. Rather than being appalled by her reaction, Donna was amused - she now had another kink to add to her collection.
What would it be like to have someone lusting after her little girl? From her mother's perspective, she thought Heather was a cutie. Other people, some complete strangers, had commented on how adorable she was and more recently, how she was remarkably beautiful. Heather was two years old, now, and was really developing into a pretty little girl.
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Changes last made on: Thursday, March 16, 2017