*He's Salma Hayek's Fiance′ and Father to Her Unborn Child

My bulbous-bellied, hormonally-horny spouse is pursuing me around the house, ramming her enormous nipples into my mouth, ravaging my genitalia ten times a week. . . .

“Blood is marching to my groin and mammary glands,” moans my wife. “My pussy’s always sopping wet because I’m in a constant state of desire.”

I suspect she’s just a heated freak, imagining things — but physicians back up her frothy analysis. In The Pregnancy Book: Month-by-Month, Everything You Need to Know From America’s Baby Experts, authors William Sears, M.D. and Martha Sears, R.N. state that “some women become aroused more easily and climax more quickly, pleasurably, and frequently … during the middle months of pregnancy, than at any other time in their lives. . . .”

Last Saturday, at our Prenatal Yoga class, I queried several other mothers-to-be about their maternal libidos: “My boobs are ripe and juicy, and my vagina is hungry,” confesses Stephanie, in her seventh month. “I walk down the street thinking about sex with every man that passes by, because they smell musty like animals — when I get home, I immediately want it doggiestyle, because it’s so comfortable.”

My wife is panting uncontrollably, her kundalini inflamed by [our Prenatal Yoga] class’s contortionist postures. Impatiently, she pulls on my belt, to hurry me home for some humping.

Ten minutes later, I’m getting naked-nookie-slurped again — this time, on the stairs. Used to be, her only erotic time-space was under the sheets when TV programs weren’t promising, but now, every second and centimeter of the planet has copulatory potential.

I would kill everyone on the Internet to be Francois-Henri Pinault* right now.

Seriously.

Everyone.