You wake up with a groan at the annoying “air raid siren” sound that Katerina has put on your phone to wake you up on your first day at your new job. As you blindly brush your fingers against the phone screen to silence the alarm, you feel a familiar damp silkiness enveloping your manhood. You open your eyes and find Katerina riding your erection with reckless abandon. She bounces on your shaft, moaning and gasping as she does a surprisingly accurate impression of a porn star, though you can tell that her orgasms are definitely real from the way her vaginal walls are squeezing your Schwantz. You open your eyes and smile at her. She leans down to kiss you, flexing her hips to keep the lovemaking going. When the full length of her body is lying on top of yours, and her lips fully pressed against yours, you wrap your arms around her. She squeals as you roll her onto her back and proceed to hump her as roughly as she groans even louder than before. You groan as you feel your own orgasm beginning to build deep within the core of your being. Katerina howls in orgasmic ecstasy, flexing her hips to extend your thrusts. She burbles incoherently as if trying to say something. You think she’s begging you to cum inside her. It reminds you that she enjoys raw, unprotected sex. The risk of pregnancy thrills her every time you make love to her. Finally, you cannot hold your climax back any longer, the pleasurable fire burns through your nerves as your cock explodes inside her pussy. She squeals in delight as she feels you pump spurt after spurt after spurt of semen into her. In moments your climax is spent. Katerina holds you tightly against her, keeping your cock inside her vagina as she makes out with you. After a moment, her flower squeezes your softening erection out of her. This brings you two up for air.
“Um,” Katerina whimpers, still highly aroused, “you’d better get off me, and get ready for work. I don’t want you to be late.”
“Yeah,” you groan, though you want to stay here and bang your girlfriend some more.
Katerina notices your desire and graces you with a seductive smile.
“If you’re good,” she says, “I’ll have a nice wet pussy waiting for your stiff cock when you get home.”
“Okay,” You mutter.
With that, you get off your girlfriend, and pad into the bathroom to take a shower. As you shower, Katerina makes breakfast for both of you. You finish showering, you dress in a special outfit that Katerina bought for you. It consists of a dark gray polo shirt, khaki slacks, argyle socks, and shoes that are specially designed for distance walking, while looking quite professional. The shirt and slacks are designed for predators. The fabric looks normal but is stretchy enough to accommodate a predator’s expanding belly. You step out into the kitchen, where Katerina has set out breakfast in the breakfast nook. You are delighted to see that she has cooked French toast, sausage, orange juice, and coffee. You sit down with her and the two of you make small talk as you eat breakfast. Soon after, you’re finished eating. Katerina rushes back to the bedroom to get dressed while you pour your coffee into a travel coffee cup. Moments later, she comes dashing out wearing a bikini top, cutoff shorts, and sandals. She has pulled her hair back into a ponytail, and she has her purse. Together, you two walk out to the car. You are just about to get in the car, when Katerina dashes back into the house. She returns a moment later with a fine leather briefcase. She presses it into your hand.
“This is for my beloved insurance salesman,” she coos, then she kisses your cheek, “let’s go.”
She hops into the car. You sigh, then get in with her. She drives you to the Guardian Insurance Training Center. Stopping at the center’s front door, she leans over and kisses you deeply and passionately.
“Go in there and impress them, darling,” she breathes, clearly still aroused, “and when you get home, I’ll be wet and ready for more sex.”
“How haven’t you gotten pregnant,” you ask, “I mean we’re making love so often, you should have gotten knocked up by now.”
“Do you honestly think I’m gonna get pregnant when I’m living with a notorious preggo eater,” Katerina retorted.
“I…I could never eat you,” you mutter, “even if you get pregnant. I…I can’t explain it.”
“My grandmother was a pred,” Katerina said, “and she told me that sometimes a predator meets someone that could have been prey, but for some reason they can’t eat that person. She says it’s because they fall so deeply in love with that person that they don’t find them appetizing. Let’s just say that so long as you and I are in love, I’m more or less safe from ending up in your stomach. Grammy also said that the longer a pred is in a relationship with the prey person, the safer the prey is because time makes the prey less and less appetizing. In fact, she says it gets to the point where the pred ultimately stop thinking of that person as prey.”
“I think I remember my mom saying something like that to me,” You say, “she met my dad when he was about to eat her. However, for some reason, the moment he got her head in his mouth, he spat her out, because she didn’t taste good.”
“Yeah, that’s what my granny said is the way a pred can tell that they’ve met the person they’re destined to marry,” Katerina said, “their intended mate simply doesn’t taste good. So, how do I taste?”
“Honestly,” you reply, “I’ve kissed enough of your body to know what you taste like, and you’re too salty.”
“So, I’m not likely to end up in your stomach,” Katerina says.
“Somehow, I agree with your grandma,” you say, “so long as we stay together, you’re safe. But if we ever break up…well…you’ll probably end up as meat in my belly.”
“Well, I’d say I’m safe,” Katerina says, “because I’m planning to spend the rest of my life with you, which is going to be longer than the few hours it would take you to digest me. Now, go inside and dazzle them. And try to come home with a girl inside your belly.”
“Given my job,” you say, “that’s quite likely to happen.”
With that, you get out, grabbing your coffee and briefcase. Katerina blows a kiss at you as you shut the door. She drives away as you walk into the training enter. Just inside, you see a reception desk. The receptionist is a beautiful brunette with blue eyes and long bronze hair. She was conservatively dressed in a high waisted blue maternity dress with a flowing skirt that nicely accentuated her belly, which was hugely swollen with triplets. She looks at you and smiles, stroking her belly and giving you that eager expression that you’ve seen countless times from pregnant women who want you to eat them. You look at the name plate on her reception desk. It reads, “Éliane Messier.”
“Good morning,” she twitters, “you must be Alex.”
“I must be,” you joke.
“And I’ve heard you are quite good at devouring preggos,” she murmurs.
“I’ve been known to gobble up a preggo here and there,” you hint.
She leans back and pats her belly.
“Am I pregnant enough for you to eat me,” she asks.
“I’ve already had breakfast,” you say, “but if I get the hunger later, I might devour you.”
“We both work for the same company,” Éliane notes, “I’m gonna end up in your belly sooner or later.”
“Who knows,” you say.
Éliane looks at her computer.
“I see you’re scheduled to train with Victoria today,” Éliane says, “have a seat, I’ll let her know you’re here.”
You sit down, checking your social media feeds as Éliane briefly speaks on the phone, presumably to Victoria. And though you don’t really listen to the conversation, you just catch her making comments about her desire to have you eat her. In moments, a statuesque woman struts out into the waiting room. She is a mature woman in her early forties. Her face is flawless, with absolutely no sign of wrinkles or blemishes. She has an air of sexiness about her. Her blouse is just formfitting enough to nicely show off her breasts and the contours of her bra are visible beneath the fabric. Her miniskirt is just short enough to be enticingly sexy, while still being long enough to look professional. Her voluminous auburn hair is tied back at the nape of her neck, and secured with a red hair ribbon that is tied in a neat bow. You immediately notice that she is not pregnant. She smiles, her crimson lipstick nicely accents her lips, and you wonder if she realized that you were checking to see if she is pregnant. You stand as she approaches, her pumps clip-clopping on the floor.
“Hello, Alex,” the woman says offering her hand to shake, “welcome to Guardian Insurance. I’m Victoria.”
“Hello, Victoria,” you say, shaking her hand, “pleased to meet you.”
“I’ll be your trainer,” Victoria says, “do you have any questions before we start?”
“No,” you say, “I’m eager to get to work.”
“Precisely the kind of attitude we like around here,” Victoria praises, “Señor Zayas chose you well.”
“Thank you,” you say.
“This way,” Victoria says, gesturing deeper into the building.
Victoria leads you through the building, stopping by her office to grab her attaché case, then out a back door into an employee parking lot. She leads you to a late model sedan with a front plate that prominently features the name and logo of Guardian Insurance Company. Victoria gets in and gestures for you to get in the other side. She starts the car and leaves the building property. She drives into an affluent neighborhood. The houses are quite expensive and surrounded by yards, putting them a respectable distance between each other. Victoria stops the car in front of a luxurious house with a vast yard. Parking the car on the side of the street, you and Victoria get out and start toward the house’s front door.
“Now, watch what I do,” Victoria says.
She knocks. The door is opened, and they are met by an obviously well to do man, dressed in a polo shirt and khakis. His wife and daughter, both heavily pregnant, are sitting in the living room, easily visible from the front door.
“Yes,” the man says.
“Hello, sir,” Victoria gushes in a cheerful salesman voice, “I’m from Guardian Insurance Company. I’ve noticed your wife and daughter are both pregnant. Have you considered the very real chance that either of them could be devoured by a predator at any moment?”
The man looks at his wife and daughter, and notices both of them looking at you, and are obviously thinking about getting you to eat them. The man looks back at you.
“Predators are out there,” Victoria continues, “and you never know when a woman may get the urge to become a meal in some pred’s belly. Because of that, we are offering a comprehensive prey life insurance policy. After you buy this insurance, if anyone you place on your policy is eaten by a predator, we will pay you the full amount of the policy.”
“How much are the payouts,” the man asks.
“We have policies that pay ten, twenty, and fifty thousand dollars,” Victoria said, “and we will even put their affairs in order for you.”
“Can you bring them back if they are eaten,” the man asked.
“No sir,” Victoria says, “but our exclusive research and development department is working around the clock, seven days a week to develop a means of reconstituting devoured people. If you purchase a policy with us, we will contact you and offer you the additional reconstitution service at no additional charge.”
The man looks at his wife and daughter, who look even more eager to get in your belly. At that moment, your stomach audibly gurgles as you digest your breakfast. The man suddenly looks a touch nervous, clearly horrified by the idea of his wife and daughter ending up as meat in your belly.
“Where do I sign,” he asks.
Victoria takes a policy application on a clipboard and a pen out of her briefcase. She offers both to the man.
“I’m glad you made that choice, sir,” she chirrups, “just fill this out to apply for a policy.”
The man takes the clipboard and pen and begins filling the form out. You watch as the man writes on the form for several moments, then he signs it and hands clipboard and pen back to Victoria, who puts both back into her briefcase.
“Great choice, sir,” she says, “we will put this into our system, and get back to you within one to three business days. Thank you very much, sir.”
Victoria turns and walks back to the car. You look at the wife and daughter for a moment, then you turn and return to the car. Once you are in the car, Victoria drives to the next house. You both get out and walk to the door. You watch, hovering in the background, as the door is opened by an uppity woman who looks like she’s pregnant with triplets. Victoria goes through her sales pitch again. The woman listens, absently stroking her prodigious belly. Though she acknowledges that she or her daughters could be eaten at any time, she refuses to buy the insurance. You and Victoria move onto the next house, and you again watch as Victoria does her sales pitch to a man and his heavily pregnant wife. They listen, acknowledge the dangers of being eaten by preds, but they also refuse to buy the insurance. You and Victoria move onto the next house. This time, Victoria allows you to make the sales pitch. You knock on the door and are met by a heavily pregnant woman who is wearing only a towel and has obviously dashed from the shower.
“Hello, ma’am,” you say in a cheerful yet professional tone, “I’m from Guardian Insurance Company, and I couldn’t help noticing that you are pregnant.”
“Yeah,” she replies, touching her bulging belly, “I’m due next month.”
“Are you sure,” you ask, “you could easily be devoured by a predator before then. There are plenty of preds out there who would find a pregnant woman like you very delicious. You never know when a pred might gobble you up. That’s where our insurance policy comes in handy. After you buy our insurance, if anyone you list on your policy is eaten by a predator, your family will receive the payout. And we will even handle putting their affairs in order for you. And our research and development department is researching methods of reconstituting people who have been digested by preds. If and when we prove that this can be done, we will offer you this reconstitution service free of charge.”
 The woman strokes her belly, looking worried. Your stomach groans, reminding you that it’s getting close to lunch time. The woman looks at your stomach, and then at you, clearly afraid that you might make a lunch out of HER.
 “Yeah, I’ll take the insurance,” she blurts.
 You take out a form on a clipboard and a pen, then hand them to her. She fills out the form, signing it, then passes clipboard and pen to you. You take them and put them in your briefcase.
 “Thank you very much, ma’am,” you praise, “we will put this into our system, and get back to you within one to three business days. Thank you very much, ma’am.”
 “Do…do YOU eat pregnant women,” she asks.
 “He does,” Victoria states, “but you’re in no danger. We are professionals. We would NEVER devour a potential client.”
 “Th…thank you,” the woman stammers.
 You can see from her face that she is internally struggling with the urge to beg you to eat her, and the desire to carry her baby to term and give birth. You make the decision easy for her. You and Victoria turn and walk to the car. As you get in, you look back at the towel woman. She looks at you and mouths a plea for you to eat her. Victoria starts the car and moves on to the next house. She again allows you to make the sales pitch. The door is answered by a heavily pregnant woman and her two heavily pregnant daughters. You make the sales pitch, warning them that they could be devoured at any moment by a hungry predator. One of the pregnant daughters looks at you and mouths “you can eat me” to you. The mother listens, noticing her daughter’s antics out of the corner of her eye, then decides to buy the insurance, in case her daughter ends up as lunch for a pred. After having the woman fill out the form, you and Victoria move on. At the next house, Victoria stays in the car, while you go up to the door and do your sales pitch to a snooty rich woman, who is not pregnant, but she has a pregnant daughter and pregnant daughter-in-law. She states that she is aware of the danger of her and her daughters being devoured, and ultimately she buys the insurance. The next few houses are the same. You pitch the insurance to the residents. Some buy the insurance, others refuse.
 Victoria stops in front of a rather large, luxurious, expensive looking house. You get out and walk to the front door. You knock, and the door is answered by a heavily pregnant yet athletic woman. Her sandy blonde hair is braided, its length resting on her shoulder. Her belly is large and nicely round, and compliments her slim, toned body. Her ponderous breasts are barely contained by the sport bra she wears. Her face features a generous, full-lipped mouth and large doe eyes, and a lovely little nose like a crown jewel. She looks at you, and smirks, but quickly hides it.
 “Yes,” she says.
“Hello, ma’am,” you say in a cheerful yet professional tone, “I’m from Guardian Insurance Company, and I couldn’t help noticing that you are pregnant.”
The woman makes a show of looking at her belly as if she has only just now noticed that she is pregnant.
 “I do seem to be pregnant,” she jokes, “and here I thought I’d been retaining water all this time.”
 “You are no doubt aware that you are constantly in danger of becoming a meal for a hungry predator with a taste for pregnant women,” you say, “I’m here from the Guardian Insurance Company, and I’m offering you a prey life insurance policy. If you purchase one of our policies, we will pay a premium payout to your family if you or anyone else on your policy is devoured by a predator. We will also put the final affairs of the devoured in order. And our research and development department is actively developing methods of reconstituting people who have been devoured. And when this happens, we will offer this reconstitution service free of charge. Would you be interested in this, ma’am?”
 “Are you sure that a predator would eat me,” the woman asks a bit too eagerly.
 “I’m quite certain of it,” you reply, your belly groaning, reminding you that it is lunch time.
 “I dunno,” she counters, stroking her belly, “I’ve made it this long without being eaten. I need to think about this. Would you care to come inside and discuss it with me further?”
 You look at Victoria. She motions for you to go inside with the woman, making it clear that she wants you to do whatever it takes to get the woman to sign up for prey insurance. You step into the woman’s house. She closes the door, then walks toward you, unwavering her hair from its braid.
 “So, tell me,” she husks, “what are you willing to do to convince me to buy your insurance?”
 “There are any number of discounts and perks available,” you say, “I could…”
 “That’s not what I’m talking about,” the woman groans.
 The woman puts her arms around you and kisses you, moaning as she becomes aroused.
 “Maybe I want a different kind of incentive to convince me to buy your insurance,” she teases, stroking your manhood through your pants.
 You groan as she strokes your cock, a smile spreading on her face as a prominent bulge develops in your pants. You moan at the attention she is paying to your cock.
 “Maybe there’s something you can do to me that will help me think better,” she moans, one hand still stroking your shaft, the other slipping into her shorts to stroke her flower.
 “Okay,” you moan.
 You unfasten your pants, whipping out your rigid Schwantz. The woman squeals in delight as she gets down on her knees and takes your cock into her mouth. You groan as she expertly sucks your member, slurping sounds permeating the room. You moan as you feel an orgasm starting. Oddly, the woman stops, letting your cock out of her mouth. She stands, and leads you into her kitchen, taking off her sport bra, then her shorts. In the kitchen, she bends over her breakfast table and waggles her ass at you.
 “Show me how far you’re willing to go to convince me to sign,” she moans.
 You take out a form on a clipboard and a pen, then set them on the table beside her hand. You then grab her hips and jam your cock into her pussy. She moans as you roughly hump her, your hips slapping against hers. She holds onto the table, your thrusts rocking her body. She screams in ecstasy as you quickly drive her to one orgasm after another. You fuck her with force, driving her to ever greater heights of orgasmic pleasure. You groan as you ejaculate inside her. She moans as she feels you pumping your potent seed inside her.
 “Now,” you moan as you fill her vagina, “are you willing to sign up for insurance?”
 “I’m still not sure,” she moans, as she feels your semen splashing against her cervix, “I think I need some more convincing!”
 Feeling your cock still rock hard, you start humping her again. You don’t realize that this is a dangerous sign that the hunger is rising inside you. As you hump her again, roughly pounding her pussy. She screams as her orgasms continue again and again, her vagina milking your cock as it pistons inside her. She moans while you fuck her rougher than before.
 “COME ON,” you growl as you bang her harder than ever, “SIGN THE DAMNED FORM!”
 “I’M STILL NOT CERTAIN,” she screams, “KEEP FUCKING ME! I NEED MORE CONVINCING!”
 You fuck her even harder, now humping her so hard that the table is pounding the wall.
 “COME ON, BITCH,” you snarl, “GIMME AN ANSWER! I DON’T HAVE ALL DAY!”
 “I DO,” the woman screams.
 You howl in rage and orgasm as you again climax inside her, pumping even more seed into her pussy, your semen oozing out around the base of your cock.
 “Oh, fuck me some more,” she moans, “I think I still need some convincing.”
 At that moment, your stomach growls, making you realize that the hunger has risen too far for you to resist it. It’s too late for this woman. She is about to become food inside your belly.
 “Maybe it’s time I demonstrate precisely what prey insurance is for,” you growl, your rumbling stomach punctuating your statement.
 You roughly seize the woman’s feet and stuff them into your mouth, swallowing as hard as you can. The woman squeals as her legs slide knee deep into your mouth. She quickly slips her hand between her thighs, burying her fingers knuckle deep into her vagina. She moans as she almost immediately brings herself to an orgasm, squealing as you slurp down her thighs and hips in a single gulp. She howls in ecstasy as you work her baby bulge into your mouth. She squeals, her body rocked by a massive orgasm as her belly finally fully enters your mouth. She comes down to earth when she feels her breasts bump against your chin. You put the form in front of her. She gets your hint. She picks up the pen and quickly fills out the form, scribbling as much information as she can despite her orgasm fuzzed mind. She scrawls her signature at the bottom of the form.
 “There,” she gasps, “I signed it! Now finish eating me! I wanna be food inside your belly! And when the policy goes through, my husband gets fifty thousand dollars! And when he gets married again, I guarantee he’ll buy prey insurance for his next wife!”
 You stuff her breasts into your mouth, and swallow, sucking in her shoulder and neck. You shove her head into your mouth, leaving her extended arm sticking out. You slurp her arm in, her fingers giving you a finger waggling wave just before hand and fingers slip into your mouth. You gulp down that last bit of her, feeling the lump of her hand sliding down your neck. The last bit of her is deposited into your stomach with a satisfying plopping sensation. You hiccup as you pull your pants back on. You then take the form and pen, slip them into your briefcase, then leave the woman’s house, making sure to close the door. You take out a doorknob card and hang it on the door. It informs the other residents of the house that the woman has been devoured. You return to the car, Victoria giggles at your swollen belly.
 “You know I sent you in there to get a signature,” Victoria says, “not a meal.”
 “It took eating her to convince her to sign,” you counter.
  You prove your point by passing the signed form over to her. Victoria looks it over, and smiles.
 “I’m proud of you,” she praises, “you did good.”
 As you and Victoria tag team the next few houses, you both discover that your swollen, gurgling belly is proving to be a significant aid in selling prey insurance. More people purchase insurance from your company thanks to the sight of your belly, some sign up out of fear that they will be eaten. Others purchase a policy out of excitement of being eaten and leaving behind money for their families. By the time you and Victoria return to the training center, you have almost finished digesting the woman. As Victoria goes to her office, you excuse yourself to the restroom, texting Katerina to come pick you up as you make your way to the employee toilets. A few minutes later, you step into Victoria’s office. She closes the door, then puts an arm around you, kissing you deeply. You let her kiss you for a moment, then you hold her at arm’s length.
 “Um…what was that for,” you ask.
 “Oh…just letting you know that I might let you eat me,” she replies, then she touches her flat stomach, “if I ever get pregnant. Though, I do have daughters, and some of them are pregnant. I could be convinced to let you eat them.”
 “I’ll think about it,” you say, “so, how did I do?”
 “You did most excellently,” Victoria praises, “a couple more days like this, and you’ll finish your training in record time.”
 She passes a couple of manuals to you.
 “Here’s your training manual, and employee’s handbook,” she says, “they contain everything you need to know to work here.”
 She sits down, then looks at you over her steeped fingers.
 “By the way, the company doesn’t mind if you devour your coworkers,” she explains, “we feel it helps sell our prey insurance policies. After all, if even we lose employees because they end up in the stomachs of predators, then we can more easily convince people that they need prey insurance. I will see you tomorrow, same time.”
 “Thanks,” you say.
 You leave Victoria’s office. As you step out to the reception area, you find Éliane approaching you from the other direction.
 “Hello, Alex,” she cries, “how did it go today?”
 “Most excellently,” you reply, “Victoria says I might finish training in record time.”
 “Well, that’s great,” Éliane praises.
 You touch your middle as your stomach groans.
 “Oh my,” Éliane breathes, touching her belly, “sounds like you’re hungry.”
 “Yeah, I am,” you reply, rubbing your flat stomach, “though I ate a woman earlier, sometimes the hunger comes back,” you shrug, “sometimes one woman isn’t enough.”
 “I’m sure Victoria told you that the company allows you to eat your coworkers,” Éliane notes.
 Your stomach rumbles, demanding to be filled.
 “Come on, handsome,” Éliane coos, “I’m going to get in your belly…but it comes at a price.”
 “What’s the price,” you ask.
 “Something that you can easily give me,” Éliane whimpers, stroking herself between her legs.
 Éliane leads you into a nearby employee canteen. She grabs a door sign from a hook beside the door and hangs it on a knob in the middle of the outside of the door. You smile as you notice that the sign reads, “predation in progress”. Éliane shuts the door, then turns to you, pulling her maternity dress down until it falls to the floor about her ankles. She then takes her panties off and steps out of her shoes. You notice that she’s wearing a diamond fertility pendant similar to the one that had been worn by a secretary you recently ate.
 “Give this to your girlfriend,” Éliane says, “tell her that a girl you ate wanted her to have it.”
 “Okay,” you say, slipping the pendant into your pocket.
 Éliane bends over a table, presenting her shapely ass and glistening pussy to you. You eagerly drop your pants and plunge your hard cock into her dripping flower. She moans as you begin banging her, careful not to hump her too hard, as you don’t want people to hear what you’re doing. You think about Katerina. You know she would be fine with you having sex with other women, provided that said women end up in your stomach.
 “Oh god, Alex,” Éliane moans, “I almost wish you weren’t going to eat me. Your cock is amazing!”
 You hump Éliane with renewed gusto, driving her to powerful heights of orgasmic bliss. Her pussy squeezes your cock as it pistons within her. You groan and jam your cock hilt deep inside her, pumping her pussy full of semen. You withdraw your softening erection from her, pulling your pants and underwear up, making yourself more presentable. Éliane stands and looks at you, her face red with an orgasmic flush.
 “Are you ready to eat me,” she asks.
 “Are you sure,” you ask, “once you’re in my belly, you’re going to be digested.”
 “I’m certain,” Éliane says, “I want you to eat me.”
 “Okay,” you sigh, “but remember, you asked for it.”
 A few minutes later, you open the canteen door, taking down the sign and hanging it on the hook inside the room. As you cross the reception area to the main entrance, a couple of heavily pregnant interns look at your swollen belly and giggle, obviously wishing that they were the lucky bitch in your stomach. Upon stepping out of the building, you see Katerina’s car waiting, with Katerina leaning against it. Her face lights up at the sight of your prodigiously bulging belly.
 “So, who’d you eat,” she asks.
 “A receptionist,” you reply, patting your belly, “she couldn’t resist the urge to ask to become a meal.”
 “You had better have had sex with her first,” Katerina admonishes.
 “Of course,” you say, “I had a quickie with her in the canteen.”
 “Oh good,” Katerina moans, clearly getting aroused, “now, let’s go home. I’m so horny right now, I’m seriously fighting the urge to have you fuck me here and now!”
 “Yeah,” you say, “let’s go home.”
 With that, you both get into the car, and drive home. Several hours and a lot of moaning and groaning later, you lay in bed, spooning Katerina from behind. She whimpers contentedly, guiding your hand in a steady caress of her flat belly.
 “That was heavenly,” she breathes, “seems like every time we have sex, it gets better than the last time.”
 “Yeah,” you say.
 “Hey, honey,” Katerina says, “what would you think if I got pregnant?”
 “Why do you ask,” you say, “are you pregnant?”
 “No,” Katerina says, “just wondering.”
 “I dunno,” you say, “are you scared that I’ll eat you if you get pregnant?”
 “Maybe,” she replies, “you DO eat pregnant women, and you know that I’m as hyper fertile as all the other women in the world. We have had nothing but unprotected sex. That means it’s inevitable. I’m gonna get pregnant sooner or later. I’m just wondering if I’m going to end up in your belly when that happens.”
 “I doubt it,” you assure her, “if I can’t bring myself to eat you now, then I highly doubt your flavor is going to change if you get pregnant.”
 “You never know,” Katerina says, “my hormones are going to change when I get pregnant, so my flavor might change.”
 “My dad didn’t eat my mom when she got pregnant,” you reassure, “and she had me and my sister before she and Dad got divorced.”
 “So, why would your parents split up,” Katerina asks.
 “I dunno,” you say, “she and Dad only said something about not being compatible. Dad moved to Vegas, but I still talk to him. Last I heard, he’s got a girlfriend. My mom still lives in the house she and Dad bought. What about your family?”
 “We own a huge farm in the country,” Katerina says, “been in the family for generations. I’ve got a brother and I used to have seven sisters. My brother is married, and his wife is about to have their first baby…if she doesn’t get eaten. As to my sisters, when I was seventeen, Dad hired a guy to help us run the farm. His name was Dan, and what Dad didn’t know was that he was a pred. During his first year working for dad, he ate my sister Anita. Then my sister Beth started dating him. By that next summer, Beth had gotten pregnant. She and Dan had planned on getting married, but she decided she’d rather be eaten instead. Fortunately, Dan got hired by a big agricultural firm, so Dad didn’t have to worry about losing anymore daughters to Dan’s belly.”
 “Is that what got you into feeding preds,” You ask.
 “Yeah,” Katerina replies, “you see, Anita and I started flirting with him as soon as he started working for our Dad. We both wanted him, and neither of us knew at the time that he was a pred. He didn’t exactly advertise that fact. Well, Anita and I flirted with him, trying to get him between our legs. Unfortunately, Anita had gotten pregnant by an ex-boyfriend. As it turns out, Dan was into preggos, so Anita got him…when she developed that big baby belly. I seriously considered getting knocked up, so I could get some action with him too. Then, one afternoon, I just happen to see them slipping off alone. I thought they were going to have sex, so I peeped. They had sex, but then Dan ate Anita.”
 “So, did any of your other sisters get eaten,” you ask.
 “Almost,” Katerina says, “my sister Catherine almost got eaten, but unfortunately, her boyfriend fell in love with her, and refused to eat her…for the same reason you won’t eat me. He claims she tastes bad. Now they’re married and they’ve got three kids.”
 “I’ve heard that exposure to predators can affect a non-pred woman,” you explain, “that it increases her fertility.”
 “I’ve heard that,” Katerina says, “and I’ve also heard that predators love to devour preggos. That’s why I worry that I’ll be eaten if I get pregnant.”
 “You know,” you say, “my mom learned how to avoid being eaten.”
 “How did she do it,” Katerina asks.
 “I dunno,” you reply, “I’ve never really needed to know that, but she has told me that if I ever get married, I’m to have my future wife meet her, so she can learn the techniques of avoiding being eaten. Dad’s hinted that Mom even knows how to escape a stomach after being swallowed.”
 “Really,” Katerina cries, “she could escape stomachs after being eaten?”
 “Yeah,” you admit, “she won’t tell just anyone about it, because she doesn’t want it widely known that it’s possible to be eaten, and then escape the stomach before being digested.”
 “Funny,” Katerina says, “Grammy once told me of a secret family recipe for a skin lotion that could protect me from being eaten. She gave it to me when I turned eighteen.”
 “Is that why you don’t taste good to me,” you ask.
 “Oh no,” Katerina says, “the lotion temporarily protects me from digestive acids, but I’ve never used it or even made it, because I felt it would only delay the inevitable. But, if I learn your mom’s technique of escaping a stomach after being eaten, then my indigestible lotion would extend the time I’d have to escape a stomach. I might even be able to let you swallow me for fun…if you could get past my flavor.”
 “I doubt I could swallow you,” you reply, “you’re too salty. I could never stomach you because of how you taste. I think your granny is right. The longer you live with me the more unappetizing you taste. I think it’s a genetic adaptation to prevent preds like me from literally eating our species into extinction. I mean if preds eat women when they get pregnant, then no babies would be born. Therefore, our population would crash, and that means we preds would literally eat ourselves into extinction.”
 “Or worse, the world would freak out, and start exterminating preds,” Katerina states.
 “To answer the question that started this conversation,” you say, “I’d be happy if you got pregnant. We’d be starting a family. However, I’m in no hurry to make babies with you.”
 “Honey,” Katerina says, “preds eating people has caused all women to become hyper-fertile. I mean, women get pregnant insanely easily these days. Cathie, my sister who married a pred she was hoping would eat her, is so fertile that I swear she gets pregnant just by looking at her husband’s cock. I’m no exception. I’m just as hyper-fertile as every other woman on Earth. I’ve avoided getting knocked up by simply not having sex…until I met you. When we met, I couldn’t resist getting you to bang me. I don’t want to be eaten, which is why I brought a friend for you to eat. I figured if I kept your belly full, you wouldn’t eat me. Now, I’m in a relationship with you. And while I know you think I don’t taste good, I’m still nervous that I might get eaten if I get pregnant, and we both know that’s inevitably going to happen.”
 “Katerina,” you say, “let’s just let things happen as they happen. I’m fine with making babies with you, just not in a hurry to make it happen.”
 “Have you ever used protection,” Katerina asks.
 “No,” you say, “I’ve heard contraceptives don’t keep female predators from getting pregnant, and they don’t keep male predators from knocking women up.”
 “So, you aren’t in a hurry to make babies,” Katerina says, “but you know that if we keep having unprotected sex, I’m inevitably going to get pregnant.”
 “Like I said, things will happen as they happen,” you say.
 “I’m glad we understand each other,” Katerina yawns.
She waggles her butt into your crotch as she closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep. She whimpers contentedly as you hold her tightly against you. You breathe in the scent of her hair as you drift off to sleep. And as sleep comes to you, your mind is filled with thoughts of the kids you and Katerina will eventually have. As you fall asleep, your absolute last thought is that Katerina is right. If you keep having unprotected sex with her, she is inevitably going to get pregnant, but you find you can’t bring yourself to stop making love to her, so you simply accept that you will eventually sire children with Katerina.