Loading...You know the saying—and I’m sure I date myself by saying this—”I want to marry a girl like the one that married Dad?” Well, that holds true for me. I come from a big, traditional Italian family—Dad worked and was head of the house, Mom was at home in the kitchen (and pregnant for the most part). We didn’t have much money, but we were never hungry, and because there were seven kids, we had a lot of fun. I always assumed that when I got married, I would have the same kind of family. I loved kids, and secretly, I looked forward to having an ever pregnant wife.
My siblings and I got sent to the movies a lot whenever Mom was pregnant, and I now know it’s because my father was satisfying my incredibly horny pregnant mother. As my older brothers got married and had children, they regaled me with tales of suckling their wives’ breastmilk, and how wonderful it was knowing they had put a baby in their bellies, and I eagerly awaited the day when I would get to tell stories of my own.
Unfortunately for me, I came of age in the 70s, a time when the ERA and feminism were at the forefront of the political stage and social conscious, and with more and more girls choosing career over family, I was hard pressed to find one willing to even get married, let alone one who was willing to settle down and have children.
Nevertheless, I did manage to get married to a girl named Helen who worked as a secretary in the building next to mine. We went to the deli at the same time every day for lunch, and one day we struck up a conversation, and from that we began dating at night, in addition to our daily lunch dates. Helen was a lot of fun to be around, and we shared a lot of common interests, and I was genuinely in love with her when I popped the question.
Like most couples, our first year of marriage wasn’t easy. I guess I assumed that Helen would quit her job and run the house once we got married. Not only did she keep it, but a few months after our honeymoon she got a promotion, which required longer hours, and often she wouldn’t make it home for dinner. I wasn’t happy about it, but I did want her to be happy, so I didn’t push the matter. Besides, I reasoned, we would need the money when it was time to start our family. I wanted to do it soon, but Helen said she was on her way to becoming one of the first female managers at her company, and she didn’t want to jeopardize it by becoming pregnant.
Much as it disappointed me, I was in no position to argue. Because of Helen’s added income, we were better off financially than most people back then, and were able to purchase a sizable home in the suburbs, in a nice neighborhood full of families. Other than a couple who was in their 70s, we were the only house on the block that didn’t have children in it, and it seemed as if at least one of our neighbors was always pregnant. I couldn’t help but stare at them when they were—breasts full of milk and rounded bellies, barely contained by their maternity dresses. I thought they were absolutely beautiful, and I reveled in the stories their husbands would tell at poker games—how they felt so manly knocking up their wives multiple times, how feminine their wives seemed when they were pregnant, and how they could hardly satisfy their pregnant wives’ sexual appetite. Whenever I saw one of my friends’ wives breastfeeding, I secretly longed to be the baby at her breast, suckling that sweet mother’s milk. The wives always commented to me how great I was with their kids, and they told me how I would make a great father someday. I agreed, and I hoped it would be soon.
But Helen was utterly consumed with her job, and it got so that we were only sleeping together once a week, if that. Not to mention she was still on the pill, and she wasn’t getting any younger. Though I was only 25, Helen was already 30, and I knew that if we waited much longer, it could be harder for her to have children.
Finally, after three and a half years of marriage, she agreed to become pregnant, but it was far from the wonderfully erotic states that my neighbors spoke of . Helen had a difficult pregnancy. She was sick almost the whole nine months, and she had gestational diabetes. Combine that with all the other pregnancy symptoms, and my wife was perfectly miserable. I was miserable as well, but only because I couldn’t touch the goddess that my wife had become. Her breasts swelled to a 38DD, and her belly got that sexy pregnant curve. I longed to suckle the milk from her pendulous tits and fuck her silly, but Helen didn’t want me to touch her. Needless to say that after our son was born, Helen didn’t breastfeed any longer than her maternity leave, which, in my opinion was too short. Rather than take a step back in her career, Helen hired a nanny to help out with James, which was another sore spot for me. Much as I liked Grace, I really felt that our son should be raised by his parents and not a stranger.
I was a devoted father, spending as much time with James as I could. Working at the insurance company, I had a 9 to 5 job, which gave me plenty opportunity to be with my son. I coached little league, did cub scouts, the whole nine yards. As much as I loved James, I always thought he could use a little brother, but whenever I mentioned this to Helen, she would fly off the handle, talking about how she would have to do all the work carrying the baby and taking time off of work, and she simply couldn’t do it.
After that Helen and I were pretty much married in name only. It wasn’t long after James was born that she began to lose interest in sex, and after a few months, even I stopped trying. Between work and all of James’ activities, there wasn’t time for sex even if we’d wanted to. I could have cheated on her, I suppose, but deep down I was still a traditionalist, and I had meant it when I said “til death.” I must admit, I spent a lot of time in adult movie theatres and arcades in the 80s, before the home movie craze, to get my sexual release. There were some good times here and there, mostly when Helen had vacation time and we would take James camping. When she wasn’t working, she was more like the girl in the deli that I’d married, and I’d think that this was the time for us to start over. But as soon as she would get back to work, she’d become the same hardened career woman, and we’d just end up fighting. I tried to shield James from it, but he’s a smart kid, and I think he knew something wasn’t right. Things just weren’t working out with Helen, much as I wanted them to. The bottom line is, we weren’t happy, and I’m sure the reason we stayed together as long as we did was because of our son. We saw a counselor off and on, but Helen wasn’t really comfortable talking about us, and so that fizzled, and in the end, after thirteen years of marriage, Helen left me.
I wasn’t surprised when she did, but I was still deeply saddened, especially when she told me she was leaving Scarsdale and taking James. I fought hard for custody, but back then the courts felt a nine year old boy needed his mother more than his father, and in the end Helen won and she and James moved to Texas, and at 39, I was faced with the daunting task of starting my life over again.
I ended up getting the house in the divorce, but after a few months I decided I couldn’t stay there. Maybe it was the way the neighbors talked, maybe it was being there without James, or the echoes of all the children I’d wanted to have, or maybe it was the beginning of a midlife crisis. Whatever it was, I ended up selling the house and moving three thousand miles to California.
My company had an office in Ventura, and thankfully, I was able to transfer, keeping both my seniority and my pension. I moved what little possessions I had into a small apartment. It wasn’t on the beach, but the complex did have a pool, something I took advantage of regularly. After forty winters on the east coast, I had a lot of tanning to do to catch up with the rest of the state. It also seemed to have an unusually high ratio of young female tenants—many of whom I got to know while sitting around the pool, and who would call me to help fix things whenever the building manager could not be reached.
I suppose I should have been having the time of my life—I was single and living in California, just a stone’s throw from beaches full of scantily clad women. But the fact of the matter is, I was a little gun shy about dating again. I guess Helen got my self confidence in the divorce as well. I was still in pretty good shape for 40—not great, but fairly decent, and my hair was still jet black with no signs of gray. I had a good job, and, even after paying alimony and child support, a decent amount of money. And yet, I couldn’t think of a single thing I had to offer any woman.
After a few months of feeling sorry for myself, I got very fed up and started jogging. I got a gym membership and started working out regularly, and in almost no time at all, my slight beer belly had disappeared and my biceps were bulging. It was as if I had my 25 year old body back, not to mention my confidence. I even started dating again. I had seen one or two women from the office, but it hadn’t turned into anything serious. That didn’t matter, I still felt better than I had since before I’d married Helen.
One night I was going to get in a quick swim before bed, something I did fairly often. Normally I was alone in these night swims, but that night when I entered the pool gated I saw a girl lying on one of the folding chairs. It wasn’t anyone I knew from the complex. She was young, probably about 20 I guessed, a typical California girl—long blond hair and tan, with long legs. She was also naked, her full, round breasts topped with cherry nipples sitting proudly atop her chest, the top of her pussy just barely visible between her crossed legs. Just the sight of her and I was pitching a tent in my swim trunks, and I quickly dove in the cool water to get rid of it. When I emerged, she was looking directly at me, and smiling.
“Awfully late to get a tan, isn’t it?” I asked, sitting on the pool steps.
“Oh no,” she said with a smile. “Haven’t you ever heard of a moon tan?”
“Not really,” I chuckled.
“Oh, yeah, it’s much longer lasting than a suntan, not to mention there’s no risk of skin cancer.” She smiled that smile again, and I laughed. “Actually, I didn’t think anyone was going to be out here this time of night.” I noticed she hadn’t made a move to cover herself, which both shocked and intrigued me, another reminder that I was in California.
“Personally I prefer to swim at night,” I said.
“Oh, me too. Well, to be honest, I prefer to swim naked, and it’s just easier if I do it at night. I don’t want to get my friend kicked out of her place, you know?” She slipped off her chair and dove into the water. She came up and swam around, her breasts floating in the water, and I worried that the cold water wasn’t going to be enough to get rid of my erection.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” I commented. “Do you live here?”
“Uh-huh, just moved in about two weeks ago,” she answered.
“I didn’t know there were any vacant apartments,” I quipped. “And no one mentioned they were moving out.”
“No, I live with Natalie, in 1D?”
I was thinking more like 38D as she swam up next to me.
“Oh, well, I’m right on top of you,” I said, then cringed. “I mean—” The girl laughed at my awkwardness, and I was glad it was dark so she couldn’t see me blush.
“I’m Kristy,” she said, sticking out her hand. I shook it awkwardly, trying hard not to stare at those gorgeous tits.
“Joe,” I said.
“Well, I’ll be sure to see you around, neighbor,” she said as she got out of the pool, and just like that she was gone, leaving me very confused and very aroused.
The next time I saw Kristy was two weeks later in the laundry room. I hadn’t seen her since that night in the pool, and unfortunately apartment 1D hadn’t needed any repairs. I had begun to wonder if it was even real, when all of a sudden, there she was, sitting on the dryer, reading a book. She was wearing cutoff shorts, but no top.
After greeting me, she explained that she had spilled spaghetti sauce on her last clean top, and she was waiting for it to dry.
“I haven’t seen you around the pool,” I said, teasingly.
“No, I’ve been studying,” she said. “I’ve got mid-terms coming up.”
“Oh, what college do you attend?”
“Ventura High.”
I stared at her. I knew she was young, but I didn’t know she was that young.
“How old are you, Kristy?” I asked.
“I just turned 18 two weeks ago,” she said, shrugging.
“Oh!” She was barely 18? I couldn’t believe it.
“You sound surprised.”
“Well, it’s just, uh…you look older,” I finished lamely. What I didn’t say was that most high school students lived with their parents, and it made me wonder why Kristy didn’t.
“I get that a lot,” Kristy admitted. After seeing her swim naked, and seeing her now topless, I could see why.
“So, um, how do you know Natalie?” I asked casually, trying to avoid staring at her perfect breasts. I stood up against the washing machine and added fabric softener.
“Oh, she went to high school with me, but she’s three years older,” Kristy explained. I nodded, as my eyes traveled down to the magnificent globes on her chest. When she caught me looking, I turned beet read and said, “So, you’re reading Franny and Zooey? I read that. Is that a school assignment?”
“No, just for fun,” Kristy answered. “I’ve read it twice before, but I really like the evolvement of the character Franny, you know, the whole praying without ceasing thing? I find Salinger’s fascination with eastern religions and the influence on his writing very existential, don’t you?”
Talk about being dumbfounded. I don’t know what I had been expecting her to say, but it certainly wasn’t something so enlightened. I guess because she was blond and, well, I had seen her naked, I was expecting her to be something of a bimbo, but I was glad to be wrong.
I smiled awkwardly. “Well you got me. I read that twenty years ago, and I have to admit I didn’t really don’t remember it.”
“Yeah, when most people hear Salinger, they think Catcher in the Rye.”
I laughed. I couldn’t believe I was having a conversation like this with an18-year-old, much less a half naked one. All of a sudden, I felt a spark, and I think she felt it, too. Just then the dryer buzzed. Kristy jumped off, opened it, grabbed a T-shirt and put it on, then piled the rest of her clothes in her basket.
“Welp, see ya later,” she said as she turned to go.
“Wait!” I said, grabbing her arm. She stopped and turned around. I sighed. It was now or never.
“Uh, you’ve lived in California a while, right?”
“All my life,” Kristy nodded. “Why?”
“Well, it’s just, I haven’t and I really don’t know my way around here, you know—I mean, I don’t know where to get good Chinese food or a nice Italian restaurant so I was wondering if maybe you’d show me around town?”
Kristy stopped and looked at me skeptically for a second, then burst out laughing.
“Are you asking me out?” she asked. “Wow, I mean, that’s what you were doing right? And that’s the best you could come up with, ‘I need someone to show me around town’?”
Instead of feeling embarrassed, I joined in the laughter.
“Okay, I guess it was pretty lame,” I admitted.
“I’ll say. Try again.”
“Seriously?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes,” Kristy nodded.
“Okay, Kristy, would you like to go out with me?”
“I would,” she said. “How about dinner tonight? I do know a couple of places.”
Later that evening I headed downstairs and knocked on 1D. Kristy answered, looking amazing. She wore a slinky silvery-blue dress that made her blue eyes pop. Her hair was up in an elegant twist with a few tendrils surrounding her face.
“You look beautiful,” I whispered, hoping I wasn’t getting an erection.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said.
“Yeah, I hope I’m dressed okay,” I said. I had put on a simple sport coat and khakis with no tie, not too casual, but certainly not as dressed up as Kristy.
“You’ll be fine,” she said. I offered her my arm and we headed out.
She directed me to this nice little Italian restaurant off of the boardwalk, and just as she promised, I was dressed appropriately. I ordered us a bottle of wine, forgetting that unlike New York, the drinking age in California was 21, but thanks to the way she was dressed, and the fact that she was with me, no one seemed to notice she was one 18. We ordered, and spent the evening laughing and talking. I told her about Helen and showed her pictures of James, who she declared a heartbreaker. She asked me my age, and when I told her, she admitted she thought I was a lot younger than 40. About halfway through the meal, I finally got up the courage to ask her something that had been bothering me.
“Kris, I gotta ask you, you’re, uh, you’re not a runaway, are you?”
Kristy put down her wine glass and looked at me.
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“Well, it’s just, you’re in high school, and you don’t live with your parents, and well, I just want to know. I mean, I’m a father, I know what it’s like to not know where your child is sleeping at night.”
For the first time since I’d met her, the smile disappeared from her face, and she crossed her arms over her chest, blocking my view of her tits. She took a sip of her wine.
“My, uh, my parents died when our house burned down when I was twelve. The only reason I escaped is because I was sleeping over at a friend’s house. And I miss then everyday. I don’t have any other family, so I got put in foster care but once you hit 18, they kick you out, so Natalie was nice enough to let me live with her so I can finish high school.”
Kristy looked like she was about to cry, and I felt bad.
“Oh, god, Kris, I’m sorry,” I said, taking her hand. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, really, I didn’t.”
“I know,” Kristy nodded. She wiped away a tear, then excused herself to go to the restroom. I downed my glass of wine, thinking I had completely ruined this date with the only girl I had been interested in since my divorce. When she returned to the table, she was smiling again, and we continued the evening like nothing happened.
After dinner we took a walk along the boardwalk, and I remarked how I’d like to bring James here when he came to visit.
“You know, it’s a shame you only have one kid, you’re probably a really great father,” Kristy said, as we walked along the curb, holding hands.
I shrugged. “I always wanted more kids,” I said. “I come from a big family, and I really wanted to have one of my own, you know?”
“Me too,” she said. “I mean, I can’t wait until I get married and have babies. I want a big family.”
“Really?” I asked. It was strange to hear that coming from someone so young, and someone I really wouldn’t mind seeing pregnant.
“Yeah,” Kristy nodded. “I mean, I guess, it’s cause I didn’t really have a family growing up, you know, so I want one of my own. I want to have a lot of kids.”
“I did, too. It was Helen who didn’t want them. I’m not even sure she really wanted James.”
“Well, then that proves she’s crazy. Any woman would be lucky to have kids with you.” I turned to look at her, and before I knew it, I had my lips on hers, my arms round her, pulling her soft body up against mine.
“I’m sorry,” I said when I pulled away. “I just had to do that.”
“Don’t be,” she said, and kissed me, her tongue parting my lips and invading my mouth to stroke my tongue. We kissed like that for a while until some punk kids started laughing at us. By this point it was already midnight, and, even though it wasn’t a school night, we decided to head home.
When we got to the apartment, Kristy discovered she’d forgotten her key and Natalie wasn’t home from her date yet. I suggested she come up to my place to wait, and she agreed. We cracked open a couple of beer bottles, and put on Led Zepplin II, which Kristy picked out from my record collection. She said it was her favorite record, mostly because she said Jimmy Page looked like her dad. I was still a little tipsy from the wine at the restaurant, and with my second beer, I was on well on my way to being drunk, which is the only reason I agreed to dance with Kristy when The Lemon Song came on. I’m not sure if what we were doing qualified as dancing—it was mostly Kristy moving against me while I tried not to fall. In the midst of it all, her strap fell down, exposing her left breast. Instead of pulling it back up, she lowered the other strap and pulled the garment down around her waist. I reached out and touched those glowing orbs, cupping and lifting them, loving their heavy weight in my hands. At last I bent to suckle that ripe cherry nipple, swirling my tongue around the tip and the hardening bumps of the areola before taking it in my mouth. Kristy held onto me as I switched sides and pushed her dress down her hips. It pooled at her feel and I took a step back to admire her.
It had been too long since I had seen this teen goddess naked, I decided, staring at her hairless pussy lips. I could see a trail of moisture beginning to run down her thigh, and I kneeled down to catch it with my tongue. Sweet. I tilted my head and licked her tiny moist slit. It had been years since I tasted a sweet teen pussy, and I had missed it. In one fell swoop I scooped Kristy up and carried her to my bed, easing her down on the mattress. She removed my shirt and pants, and looked approvingly at the monster trying to poke it’s head through the opening of my boxer shorts, which she then removed, and gasped.
I smiled. I’ve been blessed with a nine inch cock, as thick around as a water bottle. I suppose to a teen girl my penis would seem a little frightening, but Kristy was undaunted as she lowered her mouth to it and kissed it, then took me in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the tip and darting in and out of the hole.
“Oh, shit,” I said as she began inching it down her throat. It had been many, many years since I’d had that done, and the hot wet heat of her mouth and the texture of her tongue were better than I remembered. I reached down and grabbed her hair, and began fucking her mouth, sliding in and out of her. Even though I was drunk, it had been so long since I’d had sex that I was getting close, and I wanted to draw this out. Not to mention I wanted a real taste of that teen cunt.
I pulled my cock out of Kristy then rolled her on her back. I kissed her neck and my hands flew to her breasts, pinching and pulling her innocent nipples. I wanted her to be nice and juicy for me.
“Ahh, ahh,” Kristy moaned and trembled as I suckled her breasts again, wishing as I did that they were full of milk. I left her breasts and licked my way down the smooth plane of her stomach to the hairless V between her legs. I could smell the sweetness of her arousal, and I inhaled deeply before spreading her open for me.
Her vaginal lips were puffy and glistening in the dim light of my room. I took my fingers and spread them open. I saw that little pink pearl peaking out from its hood, and I swirled my tongue around it, and took it between my teeth, biting it gently, which made Kristy jolt suddenly. Then I latched onto it and began sucking that teen clit in earnest. Kristy’s hips bucked and her legs flailed, and I had to pin her down so she didn’t kick me in the head. I slipped two fingers inside of her little hole. My god she was tight! I was worried for a second she might be a virgin, but I didn’t feel a hymen, and so I continued fucking her with my fingers and tongue.
“Oh, god, oh Joey, unhh, ah, oh shit, I’m gonna cum, uh, ahh!”
“That’s it, angel, cum for me. Cum for me, squirt your juices into my mouth.” I began sucking Kristy’s pussy and suddenly her entire body shook in an orgasm and my mouth was flooded with her sweet pussy nectar. I lapped it up greedily, then pulled back. I couldn’t wait any more. I had to fuck her. I took my cock and swirled it around her clit, wetting it with my precum.
“I’m gonna fuck you now, Kristy,” I whispered. “It might hurt, but I’m going to go slow, okay, baby?” She nodded, too far gone to speak. I stuck the head inside of her, and then began rubbing her clit again. She was so tight! I couldn’t even remember the last time I was in such a tight, young pussy. As I entered her inch by inch, I alternated rubbing her clit and pulling and pinching her tits.
“Oh, Joe, that feels so good,” she moaned. “Oh god, baby, don’t stop, don’t stop! I’m gonna cum! Ahh, nuuhh.”
When I felt her pussy begin to contract, I slammed my full length inside her. I could feel her pussy stretching to accommodate me, and a pinch around the tip of my penis as I entered her cervix. When her orgasm had subsided, I began to pump in and out of her. I knew I wasn’t going to last long in that teen pussy, and I began fucking her in earnest.
“Oh, Kristy, baby, your pussy’s so tight, so wet,” I whispered in her ear, before scraping the lobe with my teeth. “Are you ready, baby? Are you ready for my cum?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, cum in me!” The sound of those words coming from a teenager sent me over the edge, and after ramming my cock deep in her cervix one final time, my body went rigid, and I felt rope after rope of the cum I had built up in my balls splash inside of her. It had been a while since I’d last masturbated, and I must have cum at least a cup if not more inside of her.
After that we were both completely spent, not to mention drunk, and so we passed out, with me still inside of her. I woke during the night to pee, then, seeing that gorgeous teen body lying in my bed, I fucked her once more gently from behind without waking her.
When I woke the next morning, Kristy was gone. I was a bit disappointed, because I had loved waking up inside of her, but I figured I would see her later that day. Over the next two weeks we continued to see each other almost daily. I would call her when I got home from work and she would come up, or else we would agree to meet down at the pool for a late night swim. Everything was going so well, I felt like a teenager again, and I was certain I was in love with her.
Then I didn’t see her for nearly a month. She avoided my calls, and every time I came to the door, Natalie said she wasn’t home. I couldn’t think of anything I’d said or done to make her angry, and I was really hurt that she would just break things off without telling me. Then one night just as I was heading off to bed, she randomly appeared at my door.
“Hi, stranger,” she said. “Can I come in?” I was still hurt, so I didn’t look at her, because I knew that if I did, I would take her in my arms and never let her go. Instead I shrugged and stood back, letting her into the apartment.
“You want a beer?” I asked, more out of politeness than anything.
“Uh, no,” she said. “Um, Joe, we need to talk.”
I sighed. I knew this was too good to be true. I wondered what her excuse for breaking up with me would be—was I too old? Did she not want to be with someone who had been divorced?
I sat down across from her on the couch.
“Okay, talk,” I said. “But for the record, I think you’re making a huge mistake, because we’re good together and you know it, and if you think I’m too old to date, well that’s fine, but that’s a stupid reason to break up with a person, especially one who loves you.”
“What?” Kristy asked confused. “No, Joe, that’s not why I’m here, you’ve got it all wrong.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. Well, I mean, I’ll admit I thought about breaking things off, and I suppose I didn’t handle it very well, but…Joe I’m pregnant.”
All the air went out of my lungs. I couldn’t believe it. I stared at the gorgeous girl on the couch, this teenage goddess who was brilliant and probably too good for me, and she had my seed inside of her! The thought made me as hard as it did worried.
“You’re p-pregnant? You’re sure?”
Kristy nodded. “About a month now,” she said slowly. Then, at lighting speed, “I—I wasn’t sure about telling you. I mean, I wasn’t trying to trap you or anything, really, I’m not, but I’m going to keep it, and I understand if you don’t want to see me ever again.”
“Whoa, whoa, Kristy, slow down, angel, slow down.”
She repeated herself again, more slowly. We talked until nearly two in the morning—no subject was left untouched. We talked about her future and mine, about James and Helen, even Kristy’s parents. I told her that I would welcome another child, if she wanted to have it, and I would support and love both of them. Kristy said she didn’t want me to feel obligated to be with me just because there was a baby involved, and I told her that wasn’t the case. We discussed how we felt about each other, and somewhere that night, we decided to get married.
It was a small ceremony, just after Kristy graduated in June, and she was just starting to show. I think she picked up on my love of pregnant women because she generally walked around the house naked, allowing me to bask in her pregnant glow. I loved the taste of her pregnant teen pussy, and her magnificent breasts became taut and hard, the nipples ever erect. Every time I took them between my lips, I imagined her milk flooding my mouth.
Every time I looked at her, I felt like an alpha male, knowing I had impregnated a teenager, making her belly swell up with my child. When her milk did come in, she called me at work excitedly and I rushed right home to suckle those teen tits. I came home to find her lying in bed, covered in white streams, and I licked and sucked her until she moaned uncontrollably. Her libido increased with her belly, and it seems like I had my cock in her the entire last three months of her pregnancy.
She gave birth to a healthy baby boy just before Christmas. He was gorgeous, and looked a lot like James when he was a baby. I loved watching Kristy with Michael. She was a natural mother. She wasn’t at all nervous and worried like Helen had been, and she took on colic and diaper rash with a cool steady head. Because of all the breastfeeding, she got her figure back quite quickly, and whenever I saw those milky breasts on her perfect body, I lusted and ached for her.
Our second child wasn’t really planned either. It was not quite five weeks after Michael was born when I walked in on her nursing in the rocking chair, the baby on her right breast, her left breast exposed and leaking. I couldn’t help myself and I bent down and took it between my lips and sucked strongly, feeding next to my son. I could hear Kristy mewing and moaning, and I looked up to see her eyes closed. I took Michael and put him in his crib, then renewed my sucking. Kristy gasped and held my head tight to her breast as I switched sides. I reached in between her legs and found her positively dripping. I stuck my head under her skirt and began licking at her clit and pussy.
“Oh, god, Joe,” she cried as I reached up and began pinching and pulling at her nipples. I could feel her pussy clench as she came suddenly. I stood up and got out my cock and looked down and her, panting. She looked up at me with lust in her eyes.
“Oh, baby girl, you want this in you making a baby, is that it?” I asked, smearing the precum over the head.
“Yes,” she said excitedly, as she dropped to my knees and began to tease the tip with her tongue, swirling it around and dipping into the hole.
“Yeah, that’s it, get it ready, sweetness, so I can give you a baby. I know how bad you want it, how your little womb is craving my sperm. It’s addicted now, and it can’t be without my babies for too long. Yeah, suck me, babe. Ahh, that’s it, take it deep.” I was raging hard now, and she paused her sucking to completely divest ourselves of our clothing. Now completely naked, I pulled Kristy up to me, bent her back and fixed my mouth over her leaking right nipple. I sucked her strongly, and I reached down and felt a surge of wetness between her legs as hot milk flooded my mouth. I switched sides and she moaned. Then I eased her down on the floor and teased her clit with my cock head before putting it at her entrance.
“Are you ready, love?” he asked. “Are you ready for baby number two?”
“Yes!” Kristy cried as I pinched her nipples, squeezing out what little milk was in there. “Oh, yeah, Joe, put it in me. Fuck me and give me a baby!” I entered her slowly, teasingly, and she bucked her hips trying to get me in, but I held them firm and went at my own pace, driving her insane.
“I need it now,” she cried. “I need your baby in me.” At last I was all the way in her tight hole. I held himself still for a second, then withdrew, and sank into her again, harder, burying my cock to the hilt.
“Ahh,” she cried out. I reached down and pinched and sucked her nipples, sending her to the brink. Then I began sawing in and out of her in earnest.
“How many babies should I put in you this time, sweetheart?” I asked as I pumped into her. “Two, three?”
“As many as you want, love,” she panted. “Just fill me up. I want to be bred. I want to be swollen again with your baby.”
“How many babies are you gonna give me?” I asked. “Should we have ten babies in all?”
“More,” she cried. “Oh, god, Joey, I wanna have your babies until I can’t anymore. I want you to drink from my breasts and fuck a baby into me! Oh, I’m cumming, ahh.”
“Yeah, baby, I can feel you cumming on my cock. I can feel you milking me. Hunnh, I’m so close, Kristy. Keep milking me. Make your pussy suck the sperm from my cock. Take it in you and make us a baby. Here it comes. Here it is, Kris. I’m so deep inside you, baby, I bottomed out. I’m in your cervix. You’re gonna be so full and pregnant, babe! Gonna cum in you! Ahh!” My words sent her over the edge, and her hips were bucking and rutting uncontrollably. With that I slammed hard into her one final time. My body went rigid, and I moaned as I shot rope after rope of sperm into her. The sensation gave Kristy one final cum, and I could feel her pussy sucking the sperm from my body deep into her own. Panting and sweating, I held her to me, keeping my cock firmly inside of her. I slid one of the pillows under her hips, and alternated stroking and sucking her breasts, so much so that she had another orgasm. After that, I had no doubt that her pussy had taken the sperm deep into her womb, and I knew that she was pregnant. We stayed like that for a while, and when I finally did pull out of Kristy, no cum ran out of her. I put my hand over her belly protectively and kissed it, knowing soon that it would swell up with our child.
Sure enough, a month later Kristy missed her period, and the morning sickness began. It was a lot milder this time, and only lasted about a month. When she missed it again, Kristy went to the gynecologist, who confirmed what I already knew: my eighteen year old wife was going to have another baby by me. By the summer she was in full flush of her pregnancy. Her tits swelled up even more, filling with even more milk for me, my son, and the baby growing in her sexily rounded belly. She was never more feminine looking, more gorgeous than when she was feeding one baby with another growing inside of her, and we fucked almost daily.
With a new baby on the way, we moved out of the apartment and into a house, a lot like the one I had left behind in Scarsdale. That August my oldest son James came to stay with us. He and Kristy bonded right away, and he confessed to her that he didn’t really like living in Texas. He missed all of his friends back in Scarsdale, and hadn’t made any new ones. Helen was working almost nonstop, and James was often on his own. Upon hearing that, Kristy suggested that he move in with us. After all, she reasoned, with the new house there was more than enough room, and it was important for James to bond with Michael and their new little brother or sister.
Of course, I was an easy sell, but I wasn’t sure how Helen would take it. To my surprise, when I called her up about it, she agreed it would be best for him, and agreed to send some of his things along.
I was on cloud nine with both of my boys under one roof, and of course my sexy, pregnant wife. James began playing with some boys his age in the neighborhood, and Kristy and I were glad to learn they would be in the same class when school began in the fall. In October Kristy gave birth to my third son, Matthew. I thought that with a newborn and a ten month old Kristy would want to wait a bit before getting pregnant again, but sure enough, when Matthew was six weeks old, I came home from work to find her naked on our bed, tits leaking and pussy already wet.
“Hey gorgeous,” I said smiling, loosening my tie.
“Oh, Joey, honey, I need you in me now,” she cried crawling to the edge of the bed where she offered me her leaking tit. I took it in my lips, giving it a gentle bite, then sucking strongly. She moaned delicately, and I felt my cock stiffen. I turned my head and kissed her, my mouth consuming hers, our tongues stroking each other. My arms went around her body, crushing her milky breasts to my chest. I could feel her leaking through my shirt, and the thought made me even harder
“Where’s James?” I asked suddenly breaking the kiss. I didn’t want him walking in on us.
“He’s having dinner with a friend,” Kristy replied, kissing my neck and nibbling on my ear. “And Michael and Matt are asleep. We won’t be interrupted while you put another baby in me.” I pulled away and looked her in the eye.
“Are you sure about that, sweetheart?” I asked brushing a strand of her hair out of her face. “We’ve got two babies and an eleven year old to care for, are you sure you want another one so quickly?”
“Oh yes, Joey,” she whispered in my ear. “I can’t stand to be without your babies inside of me. I need another one desperately. I want to have another baby for you, love. I want you to keep breeding me, and filling me up with your seed. I want to be round and pregnant for you. Don’t you want that?”
God, her words got me so hot, I almost blew my load right then and there.
“Of course I want that, babe,” I replied, bending down to suckle her ripe cherry nipple. “I just want you to be sure.” I swirled my tongue around her areola before locking my lips around her leaking nub and pulling strongly, enjoying my reward of sweet mother’s milk. I eased her back down on the bed and removed my pants and boxers, which were already wet with precum. I ran my tongue down her flat stomach and slit, lapping up her juices.
“Yes, Joey,” she moaned. “Oh, god, uh, uh.”
“Mmm,” I murmured. “You taste like you need a baby inside you. You taste ready. Are you fertile today, sweetie?”
“I think so. Oh, god, Joey, don’t tease me, I need it now. My teen pussy needs your sperm, lover. I need it in me so I can make us a baby. I want it so bad. I’ve had two boys, now give me a girl baby, Joey!” Her hips bucked as she came from my tongue and lips sucking on her clit, and her tits sprayed a burst of milk. I took her thighs in my hands and lined up my cock with her dripping hole, then thrust myself fully inside her.
Her pussy was warm around my cock, and still tight, even after two babies. I had nearly two months of sperm built up in my balls, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before they would burst forth. I leaned forward and sucked her nipples again to build up her orgasm.
“That’s it baby, cum for me,” I whispered when she began rutting. “Cum for me so your little pussy can suck all the sperm out of my balls and give you a baby. You’re such a naughty girl, Kristy. You’re going to have three babies and you’re still a teenager. But you love it, don’t you, my angel? You love being round and full of me. You love having your breasts filled with my milk and your belly full of my baby and your pussy full of my cock, don’t you my love? Well, get ready, baby, here it comes. You’re gonna be pregnant again, my little teen mommy slut.” The dirty talk sent Kristy over the edge, and I could feel her pussy contracting rapidly in an orgasm. I sawed in and out of her quickly, then, just as I was about to cum, I rammed myself all the way in, buried to the hilt inside of her. I held her hips against me as my body went rigid and I felt my cum shoot from my cock deep into her womb.
We stayed locked together for a while, with me draining her breasts contentedly, until we heard the front door open and James calling us.
Over the next month, I regained the sex drive I’d had as a teenager. The thought of impregnating my wife on purpose—essentially breeding her—had me hot and hard nearly all the time, and I was dumping two and three loads of sperm in Kristy a day. My favorite position in those days was Kristy on her back, legs over my shoulders. I would lick, suck and fuck her into a frenzy so that when she came her pussy would suck the sperm out of me into her waiting womb. Afterwards, I would keep my cock firmly plugged in her, holding her hips up to ensure that my sperm had nowhere to go but her waiting eggs. That Christmas, my wife gave me the best present of all—the news that she was pregnant yet again, and that August she gave birth to Samuel, and just eleven months after that, Logan.
After giving birth to four boys, Kristy really wanted a girl, saying it wasn’t fair that I had five boys, all of whom looked exactly like me. I couldn’t resist her cute little pouting face, and this time, when I fucked her pregnant, I prayed I had put a girl in her tummy. Even before she got pregnant Kristy began eating foods that would supposedly give her a girl baby. I told her that was ridiculous, but Kristy couldn’t be convinced, and it turned out she was right, because not only did we have one girl, but two. Our identical twins, Serena and Brittany, were born in June, and they look exactly like their mother.
Being married to Kristy has been like some beautiful dream. She loves being pregnant as much as I love her being pregnant, and together we have given James seven younger brothers and six younger sisters. Now forty herself, Kristy’s breasts still produce mother’s milk sweet as it was when she was 18, and her pussy is still just as fertile, as is evidenced by the baby she currently has in her belly. We’ve been having babies for twenty-two years now, and Kristy has said she wants to have babies until we can’t anymore, so I have no idea if this will be the last one or not. Our two oldest, James and Michael, have proved that the old adage is true, as they have both married wives who always seem to be pregnant, and indeed, it’s not unusual for all three of our wives to be with child at the same time. James now has five children of his own, and Michael has three with another on the way, and we couldn’t be happier. If you had asked me forty years ago if my life would turn out like this, I would have said no, but I am awfully glad it did.