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From: she_cries@ftml.net (she cries)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: Sat, 24 Jul 2004 08:01:23 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} Dara Pulls a Train-by She Cries (M+/F exhib, reluc, preg, cuck)
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Date: Sat, 24 Jul 2004 13:10:02 -0400
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Dara Pulls a Train

By She Cries

7-9-04

 	It wasn't that Kyle had a small dick, it was just that it was
completely unremarkable.  Maybe that, mixed with his average height
and slender build, gave him a predisposition towards being insecure
about the size of his member.  All I am sure of is that as long as
I've known my husband, he'd brag about the size of his dick in ways
that made me want to smack him silly.  At one point I threatened to
break up if he didn't calm down the rhetoric.  I mean, there's only so
many times you can listen to your husband tell complete strangers
about the rapture you find at the end of his enormous cock.

 -----------------------------------------------------

            "Dara's never complained have you?"

            I shrugged, trying to pretend this conversation was not
happening on a bus, with a scruffy middle-aged trailer park denizen
who was using the conversation as an excuse to check me our overtly,
as if assessing the possible scenarios in which I might wind up at the
end of my husband's love-pole.

            "I mean, size isn't everything," Kyle would always find a
way to include.

            "Kyle, can we talk about something else?"

            "After all, it took a while for Dara to get used to it."

            It took a while for Kyle to invest enough foreplay to get
me ready for a finger, actually.

            "When she took it all the way I knew she was the one, you
know?"

            The last thing I recall was the grizzled stranger gawking
knowingly at me, no doubt substituting me for internet models engorged
on vacuum pump inflated porn star dicks.  I could feel the clothes
burning away from my body and wanted nothing less than the complete
evaporation of my body.

            "Dara, this isn't our stop."

  -------------------------------------------------------------

            That was over a year ago, and the last conversation of its
sort, upon condition of our engagement.  Kyle had been an ideal fiancé
in every other respect.  Kyle wasn't my husband yet, but the wedding
was soon, and I'd taken to calling him that since we signed the
paperwork a month ago so he could get on my health plan through my
work.  Kyle, you see was a photographer who went to art school, so I
wore the pants in the family, which is fitting, since Kyle had a
particular fetish for my strap-on.

            I don't think I got off on it nearly as much as my man,
but when he sat on my vibrating cock, knowing it's a full inch longer
than his, he'd explode on my belly and we'd both cum like crazy.

            Then we'd whisper our fantasies to one another, what we
were thinking about, if anything, when we came.

            Usually I'd lie, and not tell him if I thought of another
guy.  Kyle did the same, though I'd spied him jerking off to porn on
his computer more than a couple times.  Usually the vibrator did
enough for me, like my cock does it for Kyle.

            Sometimes we'd fuck like normal people, but where this
story picks up, I was on a fertility regimen.  We wanted kids, and I'm
not ovulating properly, so I take pills that make me dilate more, so
more sperm can get further up inside me.  Since we wanted to wait
until we were married (and ideally, that Kyle had a better job than
Video Store Clerk), we only fuck when I'm on my period, which is about
as appealing to me as fucking while I'm on the crapper (which
incidentally reminds me to mention that my ass is strictly one-way. 
Kyle got all the back-door action in our house).  I don't feel bad,
since it gave Kyle a week to get his internet porn fix, which he
clearly couldn't go too long without.  I don't know what the appeal
is, what with a warm flesh and blood creature like me in the house,
but I guess I'm just not as pretty as some of the models he liked to
look at.

 ----------------------------------------------

            Now, this party we were at.  It was mostly my workmates. 
Not all degreed professionals like me, but about half the people there
were co-workers, and almost all of my project team (really, wage
slaves with fancy titles to make them feel less expendable).  I don't
normally like work mixers, because as management you are stuck sucking
up to the higher ups, and letting your lesser suck up to you.  You all
laugh, drink too much, and talk shit incessantly.

            But this wasn't that kind of a mixer, it was a former
employees housewarming party, and it felt for all the world that I was
at a college bash:  20 or 30 people hanging out drinking beers.  Even
the chill factor that happened when I'd walk in on a conversation with
some of my employees was mitigated by the fact that to half the party,
I was just another 20-something trying to cut loose.

            You see, one of my professors had started a company, and
though nobody knew it, I slept with him a couple times.  Lots of
people like to brag that I got the job based on my academic
achievements; I got the academic achievements because I fucked my
professor.

            Ironically, I spread my legs for my teacher because my
ex-boyfriend was failing his class.  After getting his A, my faithful
ex dumped me for a 18 year-old freshman bitch named Wendy (her name
will be relevant later).  I used to blame him (the ex) for thinking I
was too old, but in retrospect, sleeping with a man twice your age
will up your standards for your boyfriends, even if you're already at
the ripe old age of 24.

            So here I was, a project manager for a very successful
start-up, and half my subordinates were older than me, as well
educated than me, and yes, better qualified.

            Still, I knew damn well about the glass ceiling in
America.  It wasn't as if I was on a level playing field to start
with.

            Whatever.  That was the end of that.  I helped start the
company, I sacrificed a lot of good job offers to stick with it, and
the professor never once mentioned our past, much less tried anything
improper once I became his employee.  As for me I learned my lesson
never to sleep around again.  That was four years ago, and now I was
totally in love and ready to marry Kyle-who knew nothing of my prior
indiscretion.  As far as he knew I'd only slept with three men before
him, and he was the last lover I'd ever have.

 

            I was working on my second Cosmo when I found Kyle smoking
on the back porch with a couple of guys and a young girl that I think
was the little sister of one of my Q&A testers.  I recognized the
banter immediately,

            "No shit, it took ten minutes to get the whole thing in."

            Three guys standing around comparing their cocks.  Nothing
unusual here, and Kyle wasn't exactly prohibited from doing it on his
own, just from involving me in any way whatsoever.

            What got my attention, however, was the girl who was
clearly working Kyle with all the intensity her little teen body could
muster (which was quite substantial for a girl that young).  Kyle was
clearly enjoying her fake shock, her little pats on the arm, her hips
brushing against his, and clearly her c cup chest.  She was clearly
getting all the signals she needed to keep pressing the argument home.

            Kyle, you see, is a very handsome man.  He may be a little
skinny, and he is developing a belly, but he has the most striking
features, a deeply charismatic smile, eyes to die for, and the most
artful and elegant hands.

            And this little bitch was drinking up every work Kyle
said:

            "No, the trick isn't just having a thick member, it's
still gotta be your technique."  Kyle had developed a knack for
bragging about his dick while acting like he was dismissive of it,
"Even if I was average, or even below average," I rolled my eyes, "I'd
consider it crass to just stick it in." He glanced at the adolescent
slut hanging on his every word, "No offense, Wendy."

            I cringed at the name as the cute little bimbo giggled and
jiggled her perky teenage tits.

            "That's okay, I've had sex lots of times.  I mean, I hate
it when guys just stick it in.  Then I just want them to get it over
with."

            I grinned at the uncomfortable silence as three guys in
their 20s and 30s tried not to imagine fucking the little girl who was
metaphorically spreading her legs in front of them.  I could just
imagine the pride she must have felt at the three pup tents that must
have sprung up next to her as she giggled and bumped into my husband
and his companions.

            Unnoticed I had decided to leave, to finish my drink and
get Kyle out of there before he made a scene, but a voice came from
behind the group of smokers,

            "So exactly how big is this dick of yours, man?"

            White trash would have described Andrew, but I wasn't
feeling generous.  Not exactly ugly, so much as unappealing.  Andrew
had a big, stocky body, the kind that takes up too much space on the
bus seat when you're a slender girl like myself, and makes you feel
like your about to be steamrollered just because you got too close. 
Andrew had a perpetual unshaved look, and for some reason really
short, close-cropped hair.  He sort of looked like a marine, but he
lacked the healthy glow that men in shape have.  Andrew looked like he
belonged on the back of a backhoe, or like someone you'd expect to be
showing crack as they bent over your toilet looking for leaks.

            Andrew also ran the mail room at the main office.  He was
the guy you called in whenever you needed something heavy moved...

            Kyle acted like the question was directed at all of them,
and I drifted back into the shadows, curious how my husband to be
would handle this, since it was clearly a question for the one who'd
been doing most of the bragging.

            "I don't like to talk about that in front of women." Kyle
replied, gentlemanly.

            "The little slut has seen lots of dick.  How big is it."

            Wendy snarled and the guys just shuffled and shifted their
feet.  I really hated Andrew, but I had to respect him calling the
girl out for what she was making herself to be.

            Instead of defending the girl, Kyle said, "I've never
measured it."  I hoped that no one ever insulted me in front of Kyle. 
Not that I needed him to defend me.

            Andrew grinned, "For a guy who talks a lot about his dick
I find that hard to believe."

            Andrew stood up.  He wasn't as tall as my fiancé, but he
was so much stockier that Kyle seemed to diminish.  The two other guys
took an involuntary step back, and I noticed that they were my
employees.  Both CS majors who were doing minimum wage work in testing
and sales in the hopes of someday moving up into my position.  My
fiancée really knew how to pick his audience.

            "So let's see it."  Andrew declared.

            "Look man," Kyle murmured, looking at Wendy as if she were
some sort of appeal.

            I immediately felt a rush.  A thrill of expectation at my
husband's vulnerability.  On the surface, I was ashamed of him, and
embarrassed that his bragging had finally humiliated him, as it surely
would, but on the other hand, the thought of him exposing himself to
these three men exited the hell out of me.

            If only the little bitch wasn't there, it might have been
perfect.

            "The girl wants to see it, don't you?" Wendy shrugged.

            "Look man, I don't think this is appropriate," Kyle
protested.

            "Talk is talk, lets whip it out and judge."

            Kyle moved away from Andrew's imposing presence, "Look,
even if I would, I mean, it's cold, in front of a bunch of guys, I
mean."

            "Hey Wendy, you think you could make your boyfriend hard?"

            I cringed, going flush and ready to knock Andrew's block
off for the audacity to call that little whore my Husband's
girlfriend, as if he'd fuck that little infant slut! But the thrill I
got as I watched my fiancé diminish before Andrew's stature and girth.
 Kyle stood there frozen, and I felt real flames of passion igniting
within me.

            "Go ahead," Andrew said to the girl, "Show us what he's
got."

            I won't say I was surprised to see that it took the girl
all of a split second to get my fiancé hard, even his erection eluded
me at times when I wanted more traditional sex, but I still felt a
cold and bitter disappointment as Kyle stood stock still and let the
girl extract his member, rock hard, and stood there trying not to
groan and pant as she gently stroked it.

            "It's not that big." Wendy said matter of factly.

             Andrew burst out laughing, and all bitterness and shame
for my husband vanished in a hot flush of anger and I stormed into the
middle of the group, "Okay Andrew, let's see how you measure up." I
spat out coldly and menacingly at my subordinate.

            "Dara, I..." Andrew began meekly.

            The need to defend my husband to be overshadowed the
sexual thrill I got from him being humiliated, "Let's have it out.  If
you're going to mock and ridicule my husband I expect you've got a
pretty good package, don't you?"

            "I didn't know..." Andrew began, but I cut him off.       

            "Bitch." I said to the girl still clutching my husband's
rock-hard penis, but I never finished the sentence.  Suddenly my
husband began to groan and he exploded, gurgling like a baby for a
minute before showering me with burst after burst of his frothy white
jism.

            My husband to-be looked quite sad and pathetic all of a
sudden, but it was no worse than I felt seeing a child of a woman
stroke him to masturbation with nary an effort, a trick I had never
managed.  Hearing the barely contained laughter all around me I felt
my insides turn cold, and more than anything else I wanted to turn
that sickening feeling on Andrew.

            My slender cream colored dress was a mess, and I could
feel the hot sperm from my husband's puny, withering cock growing cold
from my tits down to my knees.  I couldn't even imagine feeling more
humiliated.

            I think Andrew knew exactly what was going on,

            "Well, Dara, still want to see what I've got."

            "You've got something to show me, let's see it." I
retorted with more cocky arrogance than I felt.

            Andrew slowly, casually undid the top snap on his jeans,
"It takes more than a couple tugs to get me hard."

            I gestured to the little whore who somehow remained
spotless though I was covered in jizz, "Come on honey, let's see what
Andrew's packing."

            Obedient little whore than she was the girl started
towards my subordinate, but he held up a hand, "All due respect to
your man here, Dara, but I'm not going to fool around with a minor."

            "You already solicited her to jerk off my husband,
asshole." I barked at Andrew's arrogant smile.

            Andrew had begun unzipping his pants, suddenly stopped,
"Hey, if you don't want to see what I've got..."

            I glared at him just long enough to let him know what I
thought of his sad threat to deprive me the pleasure of seeing his
floppy little cock (I deliberately avoided looking in my husband's
direction as I thought this).  "If you don't think you can measure
up..." I replied, finally.

            He grinned, and suddenly I grew afraid!  What if he had
everything my husband claimed to have.  He said, "I don't want you to
do anything you wouldn't be comfortable doing."

            "I can do it." My husband's `girlfriend' chimed.

            I spun on the girl and shoved her gently back to my
fiancé, "Go play with your boyfriend," I said, watching my
husband-to-be shrink an inch.  "Don't let this guy manipulate you."

            "So you think you're up to the task?" Andrew purred in a
cruel, honeyed voice behind me.

            "What task?"

            Making eye contact Andrew seemed to dominate me
completely, because I couldn't look away, and I couldn't help but feel
every bit the slut that I thought the little tramp behind me was. 
"Can you get me hard?" He asked.

            I don't understand what I was thinking, except that I'll
never judge a guy for bragging too much, "I've never failed to get a
man hard, Andrew."

            "Really?" Andrew asked.

            "Really." I said with more confidence than I felt.

            "You know, if I'm going to be showing you what I've got, I
ought to get to see what you've got."

            I shrugged, "Well, I'm not the one trying to prove
anything here."

            "Okay then," Andrew said and zipped up, snapping his
pants.  He turned, as if to walk away,

"Wait."  I ordered, not knowing why I said anything.  This was my out,
this was my way free of further humiliating my husband and myself.  I
just couldn't believe Andrew was packing anything worth bragging
about.

"He showed you his," I continued, "It's your turn."

Andrew shrugged this time, "I'm not the one trying to prove anything
here."  He grinned, and I felt as if my two employees behind me were
grinning too.

I looked around.  The party was still going on in earnest, but out on
this back patio felt like the whole world could be watching.  Besides,
this was the smoking porch.  Any one of my fellow employees could walk
out on us,

"Okay," I said, "but not here."

"Oh, so it's okay for me to whip it out in front of everybody, but
your body is a temple?" Andrew replied, clearly not understanding my
fear.  I quickly explained my fears.

"All right." He said, "We'll go round the side to finish, but you take
that dress off right here."

My mind and body were buzzing.   It had never occurred to me to take
my dress off, maybe just to hike up my skirt, or flash him my boobs. 
I've barely got a B cup, and I hardly ever wear bras.  Under that
dress I had nothing on but a baby blue g-string which I wore strictly
because I was planning on seducing my husband that night after the
party.  A discussion about comparing penis sizes had somehow spun down
to me, naked, on the porch, in front of my subordinates.

I bit back a retort, knowing that any protest would eradicate my
chances of   exposing him and humiliating him.

I glanced back at my employees, diverted my gaze from my fiancé's
eyes, and found myself staring at the little slut,

"Let's see what you've got," she said, mouthing the last word,
"bitch."  She was as nervous as I, and I could see the tremor on her
lips as she forced the last bit out, but I shivered nonetheless, to
feel the tables turn so rapidly.

            Andrew had to know I would follow this through, or else he
wouldn't be pushing me so hard.  I on the other hand had no idea how
far I was willing to go, but the shame of seeing my betrothed so
humiliated drove me so crazy that I had to do something.  Getting
Andrew's cock out seemed to me to be the best way to do that.

I can only imagine what other girls might have done at that point, but
without another comment I unlaced the strap around my neck and let the
dress fall to the floor.  The girl looked at my breasts and started
giggling.

I felt a crushing, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, to be so
belittled by this girl.  Mark, a poor guy who I'd delegated to data
entry for sales figures was agape, and clearly more impressed with my
body than Wendy was.  The sensation that my waxed legs and pubes were
being devoured by one of my wage-workers making a fifth of my pay sent
chills up my spine.  I felt his eyes, like rough, groping paws,
fondling my jiggling breasts, and caressing my nipples, while Tyler,
one of my Q&A testers groped the curve of my buttocks with his gaze.

Andrew's voice cut through the stillness like an electric shock up my
back, "Why don't you turn around so Tyler can take a look."

I felt a chill as my body obeyed, but defiantly, even as I swung on
the young man, his eyes and mouth agape, I shot back, "Why don't you
show me what you've got, Tyler."

Okay, so it was easier to go after my underling than to stick up to
Andrew just then.

As Tyler stumbled with his zipper, no doubt hoping, like the desperate
geek he was, that he would get the same treatment my husband just got
from Wendy, Andrew said, "Yeah, Mark, let's see who's got the biggest
cock."

I turned and barked at Andrew, "I'm still waiting for you to show some
meat, Andrew." But even as the words came out, they shriveled in my
throat.  Tyler's cock was out, and proudly saluting my nearly naked
body.  He was bigger than Kyle by quite a bit.

"N-nice one, Tyler," I murmured, though I had tried to sound cocky,
and bitchy.  Involuntarily, as if my body were anticipating Andrew's
will, I reached for it, caressing the head, and I felt a rush of pride
as the boy moaned.  His cock was thick, and really hard.  Pulsing, and
erect, like Kyle's was so seldom.  I thought with disdain that the
image of this cock inside me, bursting its load and slipping out of me
in short order, but I couldn't help but stroke it.  I thought of
Wendy- No, I saw Wendy, still stroking my husband's cock, hard again,
against all my previous experience, and was determined to show that
Tyler was no more of a man than my husband in spite of his larger
dick.

As I stroked Tyler, I felt my employee's hands roaming my body, and I
made no move to stop him.  His warm hands felt good as the cool night
air stripped away the heat from my skin.  The electric sensations
pulsing through me came to the surface as Tyler groped my breasts. 
The boy started thrusting, and every time we made eye contact, I
imagined that this man was fucking me with his thick, hard cock, and
that my legs were wide open, my pussy stretched over his fullness.  I
found myself panting as I jerked my arm in a steady, rhythmless
motion, serving this boy's sex drive as he exploded onto my belly.

I don't know how much Tyler had to drink, or how long it had been
since he'd been with a woman, but I felt the cold chill return even as
he gushed stream after stream of his white, ropy spunk onto my naked
body.  Wendy's giggles, and Andrew's mocking applause sliced through
me, colliding with the arousal coursing up my loins and into my chest.
 I let go of Tyler and stepped back, bumping into Mark, who grabbed on
to me, saving me from stumbling and falling, even as his bare member
ground into my bare bottom.

"Hey Wendy," Andrew asked, "You think you can get Dara's hubby off
faster than she can do Mark?"

The girl fixed me with a condescending gaze, "No problem."

Naturally the girl was judging my performance with Tyler again her
performance with my man, who it seemed came almost instantly.  I knew
the girl's challenge was a fool's bet-Kyle had already just come once,
and Mark had yet to begin.  But I found myself groping for Mark's
manhood even as Wendy started stroking my husband.

Wendy stuck her tongue in my husband's ear and said, "Come on baby, we
can beat her."  Kyle looked at me with wide-eyed shock, then at the
girl, and Wendy shoved her tongue in his mouth.

Standing basically naked and jerking off an employee of mine made me
feel about an inch high as my husband to be sucked face with a
teenager, but Andrew's leering gaze drove me on, even though it was
fixed on my jiggling breasts, my legs, slightly flared for balance,
and the cum dribbling into my crotch.  It was clear that he wanted
nothing less than to fuck me.  It was also clear that I was giving him
everything he asked for, and more.

My back to Mark, out of courtesy for the spunk on my belly, I used my
butt to grind against his notably thinner and shorter cock (though he
was still as big as Kyle).  But Wendy and my husband were already
starting to moan, and I could recognize Kyle's groans as he approached
orgasm.  I took Mark's hand and put it on my breast and he proceeded
to maul it, but I could hear him breathing harder.  It was easier to
jerk him off, though my arm was dead tired, because his thinner cock
took less effort.

"Do you want to fuck me, baby?"  I heard Wendy whisper into my
betrothed's ear as she slipped behind him.  I faced my husband,
watching the rapture in his face as he failed utterly to fight for his
wife's pride and resist the girl.  She grabbed Kyle's balls and jerked
him hard in a rampant, frenetic pace, and I watched Kyle peaking.

I found myself pushing my ass into Mark's cock, desperate not to let
this little whore outdo me with my own husband.  I hooked the string
going down my ass to one side and slid Mark's little member over my
asshole and felt it sliding against my pussy.  Realizing I was wet
startled me, but not as much as how good it felt to have the head of a
man's shaft pushing into the opening of my sex.  I groaned, imagining
Kyle entering me from behind, but quickly realized that I was about to
get fucked by an employee in front of two guys and my fiancé, not to
mention a teenage girl.  I felt Mark shudder, and was tempted to let
him finish, but months of fertility drugs and constant attention to my
cycles forced me to my senses and I pulled off.  I missed the warmth
of Mark's hot cock immediately, and it was only Andrew's dominating
grin that kept me from servicing myself as I turned to my newest
lover.

I dropped to my knees, "You want me to suck it?" I asked Mark.  I knew
I had hit Mark's mark as the boy gasped and started convulsing.  I
opened my mouth, leaning forward to tease the boy with my tongue, and
Andrew stood before us, staring at me as I abased myself for this
stupid contest.  His eyes locked with mine I knelt mesmerized for a
moment, and Mark's cock thrust forward of its own volition and instead
of a teasing lick I enveloped the tiny shaft, taking the whole thing
in my mouth as my employee groaned and moaned.

My husband started moaning and gasping, and I turned my head to look,
but Mark's fast hand wouldn't let me extract his cock from my mouth
and I pulsed my head in his service even as I watched my husband
explode not a foot from my face.  Kyle isn't a gusher, but three
streams of his hot sperm doused my hot face and neck before his gush
tapered and the rest of his font landed on my chest.

"I win" Wendy declared, and gave my husband another open-mouthed kiss.

But the shame of defeat didn't stop the humiliation of abasing myself
for Mark, and I found myself avoiding the sight of Kyle being molested
by a teenager by immersing myself in the act of satisfying Mark.  I
had never taken a mouthful before, though Kyle had often begged me to.
 I would repay his lack of faith by letting Mark serve me my first
real dose of manhood.  Even as I heard the back door open and close,
more smokers probably, I didn't stop until Mark grabbed me-choking me,
and held me fast to take his load.

But Kyle never saw it.  As I gulped down shot after shot of Mark's
bitter, acrid sperm, even as I gagged and spat up so it dribbled out
my mouth and down my chin.  Kyle was enveloped in the girl's embrace. 
I sat down on the porch, trying to ignore the to silhouetted figures
lighting up over by the door, but unable to stop wondering who else
would witness the lengths I would go to save my fiancé's pride. 
Meanwhile Mark's cock continued to pulse little while globules onto my
tongue.  I lapped them up while Andrew watched.  I lapped them up for
Andrew, and I let my arms fall so he could watch Mark's sperm join my
legal husband's as it dripped off my chin onto my bare breasts.  I
spread my legs so he could see my cum soaked panties, where Tyler's
gift had run down.

The cum of three men oozed down my body, but my husband to be sported
his third hard-on of the night as he groped the healthy chest and
tight ass of a high school student, completely oblivious of me.

Andrew, however, was not oblivious.  Nor were Mark, and Tyler, however
sated the two boys might have been.  "Thanks Dara," Mark muttered,
always polite.  Tyler echoed his friend weakly.

"Yeah, Thanks, boss." Andrew said, grinning madly at my debased state.
 From the cum stuck in my hair and dribbling off my chin to the
cum-soaked panties and my spread-eagled posture, Andrew saw a wanton
slut, a debased whore, not the degreed supervisor he had always
appropriately deferred to.

I wiped my chin with the back of my hand, but no offer of a towel or
cloth was forthcoming.  My dress was being trampled by my fiancé and
his lover, so I took a handful of my hair and wiped my hand dry.  I
let Andrew complete his scrutiny, acting unashamed and defiant, though
I was horribly mortified at what I had just done, and terrified at
what was yet to come.

"You still want to see this?" asked Andrew.

"I don't know," I said with a nonchalance I didn't feel.  I
desperately needed to see him, to prove he was inadequate next to my
husband.  "I'm feeling pretty sated right now."  Where I got that
sultry tone, I'll never know, but it was a lie, lie, lie.

He grinned, sheepish and surprisingly uncomfortable, "I'll show it to
you if you can get me hard."  Andrew had lost some of his confidence,
and I was pretty sure it was because he had a small dick, like Mark...

...and my husband.

"All right."  I said, "Come here."

But Andrew shook his head, "I thought you wanted off this porch."

I grinned, and stood up, nearly falling over as the blood rushed to my
head.  The cold night air embraced me, and I realized that I was still
flush with an internal heat, but the semen all over my body had
chilled.

Andrew was grinning as I staggered down the steps, still in my heels
and unsteady, "A little cold, eh?" He said, and I forced myself not to
look at my nipples, normally round and puffy, but then, I was sure,
rock hard little bullets, glistening in the hazy porch light.

The damp grass of the back yard crunched under my feet, I felt little
droplets of water splash up on my ankles as I streaked, nearly naked,
into the open.  How many neighboring houses could glance out a back
window and see a girl in a g-string strolling across the lawn I don't
know.  I pushed down those fears and thought about Andrew, and how to
get his cock in my hand.  I also thought about how nice it had felt to
have Mark's cock rubbing against my sex.

Andrew brought me to a lawn table and stopped, flopping in a plastic
chair.  I glanced back.  Mark and Tyler had followed at a distance,
and though my fiancé was perilously close to getting third base on
Wendy, they had managed to follow us down onto the grass to watch the
show.  Behind them, on the porch, I saw two guys and a girl, gathered
in a row to watch the show: Their boss acting like a drunk slut in the
back yard.

"Why don't you take those panties off, Dara?" Andrew suggested. 
Instead of saying no.  Instead, even, of just pushing them down to my
ankles and stepping out of them, I walked past Andrew so all three
boys could watch and bent at the waist.  Lingering as I took one foot
out of them and then spreading my legs, I exposed my trimmed pussy for
the three boys to admire, then I stood up and strode back to Andrew,
kicking my panties aside.  My pussy level with his face, just a few
inches away.  I held my legs slightly apart, and touched myself with
one, deft finger, on my button.

"Is this what you wanted to see, Andrew?"

Andrew grinned up at me, but he seemed more nervous than ever.

I took the boy's hand, and brought it up to my breast, careful to help
him avoid the cum splatters in the middle, and he took me.  "How about
we take a peek, Andrew?"  I said, stooping down and reaching for his
manhood.  I was fully conscious of the way he and all the men on the
lawn gawked at my sluttish desire for yet another dick, but all I had
ever wanted was to expose Andrew.  Now that I had my chance I wasn't
about to let it up by showing how humiliated and small I really felt.

But as my hand felt Andrew's crotch I drew a blank.  Nothing.  No
stiffness, no forceful member dying to leap out.  Nothing.  I tried to
keep my composure, "What's the matter, Andrew, a little nervous?"

Kyle and Mark's weak, forced laughter was little reward for realizing
that all my antics had yet to arouse Andrew.  Andrew shrugged, perhaps
not catching the nervous anxiety in my voice.  "It's just all these
people watching, it's like..." Andrew trailed off.

All my efforts, my modesty abandoned, and dignity I might have once
been able to muster: destroyed.  All because Andrew was even worse
than I gave him credit for.  A sad excuse for a man who couldn't even
get hard for a willing woman.

"That's pathetic Andrew." I tormented the man.  I took his hands and
clutched them to my breasts, "I gave you these and you didn't do
anything." I snarled.  I turned around, and put his hand on my ass,
pushing it between my legs so he could see I was wet, "I showed you
this and you did nothing!"   I turned around again and pulled his hand
up into my crotch.  His knuckles against my warm, wet sex was beyond
titillating-my whole body shuddered and a found myself groaning with
passion and frenzy-God I wished my husband would ignore that little
fucking tart and come fuck his wife like he was supposed to!

But instead I grinded Andrew's hand into my pussy, pushing two of his
fingers and two of mine up inside me and said, "I gave you my pussy
and you weren't hard enough to take it."  I let go of myself and
gasping from the thrill and rush of having something inside me at last
I reached my hand back into his crotch and though he tried to shift
away I clutched his mushy member and snarled, "You couldn't take me
because you're not a man, Andrew."  I started laughing even as I gave
myself over to his fingers.  Even Wendy laughed, as she enjoyed my
husband's third hard-on.

But Andrew was starting to get pissed, "If I was going to fuck you I'd
be hard." He growled, snatching his hand away and wiping it off on his
pants, "Stupid games may get sluts like you wet," he said pushing my
hands away from him and standing up to me, "but all you've got to
offer me is a fucking tug and a blow,"

With that he stalked away, dragging his wounded pride behind him.

"Andrew!" I barked, but the mail room clerk ignored me.

I strode after him, catching up halfway between the porch and the trio
of men at the party who had enjoyed my ass.  I was now half-chilled to
death.  Naked in the cold night, my tits jiggling, cum on my face, in
my hair, on my pussy and my tits, surrounded by fully dressed
employees of my company (not to mention my fiancé), I played the fiery
hell-bitch they all knew when someone fucked up royally at work.

God only knows why I didn't let the dick walk away, but I shouted,
"Don't even think I'm going to let you walk away without giving it up,
little man!  Put up, now!"

Andrew muttered, "I'm not going to get hard just because you order me
to Dara."  The man was the epitome of defeat, but I wasn't satisfied
yet.

I took his hand and strode him back to the table.

"You want my ass, Andrew?"  I said, and I hiked my ass up on the table
and spread my legs.

Trying to ignore my husband as he wormed his way into Wendy's tight
little adolescent pussy a few yards away I said, "You want this pussy,
Andrew." I said, "It's yours."

I leaned back and pulled my feet up to the edge of the table with me,
lifting my ass up, and giving Andrew and everyone in the backyard full
few of my swollen, glistening sex.  I ran my fingers over my vulva and
spread my lips, "Come and take it Andrew.

"This body belongs to you."  I said and lay back, fingering myself.

Andrew was much closer than before when he finally spoke.  He stood
between my legs, watching me intently as I pushed myself close to a
freezing orgasm on that cold, plastic tabletop.  "You mean it?" He
said weakly.  I could feel his jeans pressing against the knuckles
between my legs.

"Fuck me Andrew." I said, convinced of his impotence, and the shame he
would have to live with, if nothing else, for failing to take such a
willing slut.

"Move your hand." He said, and I withdrew two glistening fingers from
my sex so he could see my warm, inviting pussy.

"Take me Andrew," I begged him, "I want you to shoot your sperm into
me."  I almost came from the thrill of humiliating a man so utterly.

Suddenly I felt him pushing against me.  A firm pressure against my
vulva, then a slipping misfire, then-!

Home.

Andrew's cock slid into me like a warm knife melts butter.  As opposed
to all my intentions I arched my back and spread my legs even wider
before locking them around him and sucking up his girth whole and
bucking my cunt against his blazing hot, pulsing cock.  I ground my
pelvis into his as electric hellfire burst in my loins and sent
searing heat through the course of my naked, vulnerable, and exposed
body.

My mail clerk fucked me with a frantic intensity, crying my name and
clutching me passionately, giving me long, searching kisses.  I opened
my mouth wide and sucked his tongue as I sucked his cock into me,
surrendering myself to him as he violated me from both ends.

My orgasm only faded as he exploded in violent, ape-like grunts,
panting and drooling on me as he spent his seed in the one place I had
kept safe that night.  I felt renewed heat as his blazing semen
spilled into my womb, and I found myself bucking harder as another
orgasm washed over me as my body dimly realized that I was not only
unprotected, but fertile, ovulating, and trying very hard to get
pregnant.

I let my head fall to the side, between my lover's kisses, and saw my
Kyle pumping his hips into the little girl who had violated my husband
three times. I recognized the thrust as he gasped for breath but was
unable to come, having done so twice already.  Wendy waited patiently,
her legs in the air like mine, but she appeared to be counting stars
and wincing every time 150 lbs of my husband-to-be pounded into her
nubile little frame.

I sat up as Kyle pulled away.  He had on a leering grin, and it was
all I could do to embrace the fading glow of my orgasm.  But I needed
something to help me ignore the fact that I'd been taken in by his
soft dick.  By his dares and silly conditions, by his bullying, and
his pretend disdain for the ministrations I'd given his friends.  He'd
played me like a deck of cards and laid me like a trailer trash
teenager trying to get a ride out of Hicksville.  I'd laid on my back
and begged him to do it too.

"Slut." He murmured at me.  Almost in sync as he said it a dollop of
his semen oozed out of my pussy the size of my little finger. I
shuddered, thinking about how much he must have spent in my body if
that much was oozing out.  As if to confirm my fear a steady stream
drizzled out of me to join the growing pool on the table.

A fear overcame me, and I laid back and pulled my knees up, arching my
pelvis up as the doctor had ordered me.  A way to hold the sperm in my
body, as the fertility rituals specified.  I seemed to feel the
hormones racing through me that I had taken before coming to the
party.  They were designed to make me ovulate longer, dilate my
cervix, and facilitate the movement of sperm through my body.

Andrew laughed, though he clearly had no idea what I was doing, nor
did I know why I was doing it.  For a moment, all I could hear was my
husband's grunting as he fucked a girl half his age.

Then I felt hands on my legs.  I looked up and saw Carl Ewing, the
head of technical development for the company.  Technically my
superior, though we always behaved as equals.

He jerked a thumb at Andrew who slowly slunk away, "Hey this isn't
just for his benefit, is it?"  Carl grinned, smiling at me, barely
able to look me in the eye instead of at my cum-drenched body.

"No baby," I said as if a force of nature had taken over my body, "He
just knows how to take what's given to him."  I said, spreading my
legs.

Carl knew how to use a condom, and I think Tyler did too.  But not
Mark, or David, or Chris in marketing.  I'm not sure about the two
boys from sales, or Sandy McMillian's intern Bobby, but they all came
inside me nonetheless, even if I didn't have any more orgasms that
night.  Suffice to say, however, that I didn't run out of steam till
the next morning.

The day after that I called in sick to work because I couldn't stop
throwing up.

 -------------------------------------------------

These days I'm on partial duty.  After the second trimester I might
take a full leave of absence, but now that I'm not a supervisor
anymore I have a lighter load.  Working reception for the division of
the company I used to manage isn't as glamorous, nor does it pay as
well, but it is a real relief from having to chew people out for being
late, or to reprimand people for bad work or inappropriate behavior.

I'm a little uncomfortable when I have to run an errand, or deliver a
message, and I have to look across the desks of people who used to
work for me, many of whom got a piece of me that night, though with a
lot of them I'm not sure whether they had me or not.  Some of the guys
picked me up a week or two later, when they found out what they'd
missed, and it was doing that that got me busted from my management
position.

Kyle got fired from his video store for stealing new porn
releases-mostly gay bondage kind of stuff- and I dumped him.  My
engagement ring now says `Andrew - forever' -It was pretty cheap to
have Kyle's name removed.  But that's contingent on the DNA tests,
which we have to wait until after the birth to conduct.  If it's not
his, well, I've got some money saved up.

Meanwhile Andrew's my main beau for now and, believe it or not, I was
right. His dick is even smaller than Kyle's.  His erectile problem
hasn't gone away either, so I'm back to the old vibrator, but only
when Andrew's not around.  He still thinks he should be enough for me.

I guess he'll have to do since most guys don't have time for a
pregnant girl pushing thirty.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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