A Pregnant Pause

The Asian man temporarily released his mouth from mine and turned his head to his friend.

‘Get her fucking pants off, man.’ He said in that funny accent that Indian people have.

In exasperation at his failure to undo the offending button, he shouted out his frustration to his friend:

‘I can’t get this fucking button undone.’

‘Rip the fucking things off her, then.’ Advised the Asian. ‘I’m hungry to fuck the little bitch.’

As his tongue returned to its exploration of my mouth, I felt the white guy pull the button off my hot pants and pull the zipper down.

‘Niiiiiiice pussy’, he approved, as the removal of the flimsy garment exposed my neatly cropped vagina to his gaze.

I lifted my hips so that he could pull them all the way down. My view was still almost completely blocked by the fat faced Asian, but I just glimpsed the pants land to the right of my head.

I felt the big white guy caressing my legs for a few minutes and then, all of a sudden, his hands were gone. It wasn’t long before I realised that he was getting undressed.

‘Mind if I go first?’ I heard him ask the Asian.

He pulled his big lips away from mine and stood up. ‘Be my guest,’ he began to reply, like he owned me. ‘I’ve got plans on her ass, anyway.’

For the first time I could see the white guy naked, as he took hold of my ankles and pulled me to the edge of the bed. His chest was smooth and rippled with hard muscles, and his arms looked like they could crush a man. I realised that even if Jim suddenly changed his mind and wanted the two of us to leave before things went any further, we wouldn’t be allowed. And when I saw the size of his prick pointing almost vertically up to his navel, I knew that I wanted him badly.

He spread my legs and draped one over each of his broad shoulders. Then he lowered himself so that his knees rested on the bed. I was mesmerised as I watched him grab his cock in his right hand and guide it to my wet opening. I almost went into orgasm just with the touch of his knob as he rubbed it over my pussy lips. My sudden moans made him look directly into my eyes:

‘Oh, baby, you’re really gonna enjoy this.’ He began, boastfully. ‘That’s a promise.’

And no sooner had he finished the sentence than I felt his meat slide into my gaping box. I was an adulteress for the first time. Then, I suddenly became aware that my husband was still in the room. I had been so excited that he had almost completely slipped my mind. But then I remembered that this was all for him. My view to him was blocked by my new lover, but I knew that he could see the big man’s shiny, hairless prick sliding in and out of his young wife, and I also knew that it would be the biggest thrill he had ever had.

I had never been filled up the way he was giving it to me now. I could feel every one of the eight or more inches that he was thumping into me. I put up my hands to stroke his hard torso. He seemed to like this, as his thrusts became even faster. All of a sudden, the big white guy took my legs off his shoulders and spread them out wide. This gave him the opportunity to get his face down to my breasts. Soon he was chewing on my extended nipples as he reamed my insides with his sword. I was now thrashing and moaning wildly beneath him as my whole body wracked in orgasm. I turned my gaze to the right and could see the fat Indian man stripping off in readiness for his turn with me. Even from six feet away, I could see that his gross body was as pock scarred as his face, but it was the bulge in his shorts that interested me. And as he slipped them down to his stockinged feet, I saw that he too, had something to offer by way of size.

As I turned my gaze back to my lover, I could see that he was about to come. The veins on his temple were prominent and throbbing, and his teeth were gritted together almost as if he were in pain. Then, with increasingly louder cries of ‘yes, yes’, he released my legs and gripped my arms so tightly that I had to cry out in pain. Calling me by a string of obscenities, he flooded my insides with his cum via a series of slow, full strokes.

No sooner had he slipped his wet cock out of me, than the Asian guy, still wearing just his socks, pulled me to my feet, and told me to turn around and bend over. I had enough presence of mind to position myself so that I was sideways on to Jim. I knew that this would give him the best view of his wife being fucked in the arse. I glanced in his direction and realised that he was still looking at events through half-closed eyes.

My flimsy top was still draped around my waist. The dark skinned man took hold of it and twisted the material to form a kind of a pommel, and used it to pull me towards him. My legs were still together and he ordered me to spread them. I looked down to see his stockinged feet in between my high heels. He started to caress my arse cheeks with his fat, sweaty hands, and called out to his friend, who was still recovering his breath on the bed:

‘This girl’s ass is so good, that I might just take it home with me.’

The white guy grinned up at the Asian: ‘You’ll have to fight me for her, first.’

I know it’s wrong, but being talked about like I was a commodity was really turning me on.

Almost immediately, I felt the wet bell-end of the Asian’s cock pressing against my tight arse hole. I clenched my eyes shut, anticipating the initial pain of his penetration. I could feel my anus expanding to take in this foreign piece of meat as he pushed slowly forward. I screamed as his knob screwed into me, and this seemed to excite him very much. I had hoped that he would be gentle, but I should have known that he liked to be cruel. As he rammed his full length brutally up my anal passage, I felt my knees buckle and felt as though I was going to faint. The Asian kept me upright by pulling at the pommel that was stuck firmly in the small of my back. I took a few deep breaths and got used to the searing pain of his cock as it rammed in and out of my anus.

Although the physical sensation was not in the least enjoyable, I was gaining immense satisfaction from imagining what the situation looked like to my husband, sitting not three feet away. He would be looking at my long, slender legs, muscles taut because of the height of my heels. He would see the Asian’s ugly body rubbing against my arse cheeks as his thick dick rhythmically slipped in and out of my rear. He would see the Asian holding on to the pommel on my back, riding me like I was a horse. And now, he would be watching the quickly recovering white guy standing up in front of me, pulling my head back by my hair, and offering his swollen cock to my lipstick smeared mouth.

I brought my hands up to the big white guy’s hips to steady myself as I parted my lips and took his weapon into my hot mouth. He began rocking backwards and forwards, forcing his cock to the very back of my throat. I controlled his tempo by my hold on his love handles, but not for long. The white guy took a grip of my hands and held them strongly in his. He was fucking my mouth and I had no control over either his speed or the distance that he entered me. The two men gradually began to work me in synchronisation; as the Asian forced his meat all the way in, the white guy would be on his backward stroke, and vice-versa.

I caught a glimpse of the stomach muscles that were banging into my face and realised that they were starting to lose their firmness; the white guy was about to explode into my mouth. Sure enough, within a couple of seconds, I heard him tell the Asian that he was ready and asked if he was likewise. Through irregular gasps for air, the Asian whispered that he was just a minute away. Then I heard the white guy tell the Asian to take something from off the top of the mini-bar, behind him. I couldn’t see what it was, but they both seemed to think that it was a great idea. I felt tremendous relief as they both pulled out of me. The white guy told me to lie on the floor, and helped me down with his strong hands. I lay with my head just inches from my husband’s feet, and looked up into those half-closed eyes that were seeing everything of his wife’s abuse at the hands of these two middle-aged men.

When the Asian turned back to me, I saw for the first time what they had been talking about. He bent down and put a clear plastic funnel into my mouth so that its stem reached down well towards the back of my throat. Both men then knelt down either side of my head and began to wank their dicks into the mouth of the funnel. I held the utensil tightly between my lips as their hands slipped quickly up and down their shiny dicks, encouraging their balls to purge themselves of their white muck.

I don’t know which of them came first; there wasn’t much in it. All I knew was that my mouth had suddenly become full of this warm, sickly liquid. There was so much of it, and the restriction of the tube meant that it shot into my mouth with a good deal of pressure. I must have swallowed constantly for over thirty seconds as they made sure that every drop found its way passed my lips.

When the two men stood up, leaving me still on the floor, they high-fived each other in triumph. I took the funnel out of my mouth and stood up, shaking. By the time I had composed myself, they were lying on the bed smiling at me.

‘You sure are a good fuck, young lady.’ Said the white guy. ‘Hope we see you again sometime.’

I said nothing as I picked up my torn hot pants from the bed, and put them in my purse. The top I had worn still lay twisted around my waist. I put on my coat to cover my nakedness, told Jim to get up, and together we left the room.

The fucking that my husband gave me that night was filled with intense fury. Clearly, he had enjoyed watching his wife being ravished. But at the same time, something made me think that he would never want me to do it again.

For the next few weeks our sex life was the best it had ever been. But as my term grew longer, and my tummy bigger, I noticed that Jim was less inclined to make the first move in bed. Eventually, one night when I had failed to get him aroused, he told me that my swollen torso wasn’t doing it for him, and that we should leave it until I had had the baby and gotten my figure back. I couldn’t believe it. I had done everything to please him, and now he was just rolling over and telling me that I wasn’t attractive enough to screw. And to make matters worse, the longer my pregnancy lasted, the hornier I became. I wouldn’t be able to last that long without a fuck, I thought.

Over the next two weeks, my fingers and a vibrator became my best friends, but they were a poor substitute for Jim’s lovely hard cock. I was at my Mum’s one afternoon when I let slip the reason for my miserable appearance. Mum smiled sympathetically and said:

‘It’s a pity Jim isn’t like your father. He could never leave me alone whenever I was expecting.’

I smiled back at her.

‘It’s true, I tell you,’ she continued, ‘why do you think you’ve got so many brothers and sisters? I swear he got me pregnant just because it turned him on when I became big.’

I went home feeling desperately sorry for myself. Lucky old Mum, I thought. And I wished Jim was more like my Dad.

I made further advances with Jim that night, but once again he just turned his back on me. Next day, I played all morning with a dildo that I had recently added to my toy collection. I writhed around on the bed as the cold plastic filled me up. I did get some kind of pleasure from it, but it wasn’t anywhere near enough to satisfy me. Then, in the middle of the afternoon, I received a phone call. As the voice at the other end said hello, I immediately became worried; it was Dad. He just never rings me, so I thought it must be bad news. To tell the truth, although I loved Dad, we didn’t have a very close relationship.

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he reassured me, ‘it’s just that your Mum was telling me about the little bedroom problem that you and Jim have.’ I cursed Mum for telling him, and I felt myself begin to blush.

‘I just called to see if there was anything that I could do for you.’ Dad went on, and I sensed a note of uncertainty in his voice.

I don’t know why I said it, maybe it was down to the same kind of reaction that initially makes some people laugh when they are told of the death of someone close. But I heard myself say:

‘Wow, Dad, sounds like you’re hitting on me.’

It was the silence that followed at the other end of the line that made me think the unthinkable: maybe Dad was trying to get fresh with me. Fifteen seconds of silence can be an awfully long time on the phone. It was certainly long enough for me to wonder if Dad did mean what I thought, and also long enough for me to make my mind up that I wanted dick; any dick.

‘Can you come around tomorrow?’ I heard myself say incredulously.

‘I’ll be there at three.’ He replied before putting the phone down abruptly.

Jim remarked that I was on a different planet that night, and he was right. I still couldn’t believe that conversation with my Dad. But the more I thought about it, the more I wanted something to happen. It could be the answer to all my prayers.

The next day I kept my hands well away from all my toys; I wanted to save my passions for the afternoon. At two-thirty I stepped out of the shower and went to my wardrobe to choose an outfit. I may have been pregnant, but I didn’t see that as a reason for not looking sexy. Knowing that Dad was turned on by Mum when she was expecting, made me decide to wear a white bra top that left my tummy completely exposed. I put on a skimpy pair of thongs, and covered them with a tiny, black mini-skirt. To finish the effect, I placed a pair of four-inch black patent pumps onto my feet.

As I went downstairs to wait for Dad, I was once again filled with the mixture of nervousness and excitement that I had felt all those weeks ago in the hotel with the two business men. What if I was wrong? What if Dad only wanted to give me some fatherly advice? How could I face the family again if I made a fool of myself with my own father?

But before I had time to worry about the answers to these questions, the door-bell rang. I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece; 3pm exactly. Dad was certainly punctual. I walked cautiously towards the front door and opened it slightly in order to make sure that it was Dad and not some travelling salesman. When he saw me he said:

‘Well, you gonna let me in, or what?’

As I opened the door fully it gave Dad his first chance to give me a good look over. As he stepped into the hallway he gazed down at my legs, and then slowly up to my tummy. His look suggested that my fears were unfounded; it was the look of desire.

I walked past Dad and made a very deliberate show of locking and bolting the front door. It served as a sign to him that I didn’t want us to be disturbed. Encouraged by the fact that he didn’t ask why I was going to such extremes, I looked him straight in the face and suggested that we go upstairs. This was when I was most nervous. What if he turned round and said: ‘Why?’ What on earth would I use to get myself out of that hole? After what seemed an eternity of silence, Dad simply said: ‘Lead the way.’

As Dad followed me up the stairs, I could feel his eyes burning into my thighs and arse. When we got to the landing I stopped.

‘Let’s go into the spare room.’ I invited. I opened the door and he went in before me. I closed the door firmly behind me and went over towards the end of the bed. Dad walked up to me.

‘So, my little girl’s gone and got herself pregnant.’ He said.

I smiled and began to smooth my hand over my large tummy.

‘Want to feel it?’ I offered.

‘Sure.’ Dad replied, firmly.

As his right hand came up and touched my bare belly, I gave an encouraging groan. Dad’s hand began to move all over the swollen area. He felt me like this for a couple of minutes. I was beginning to think that this was all he wanted to do. But then I felt his other hand move on to the small of my back, just above the waistband of my mini-skirt. Now both of his hands were caressing me. His left hand pushing my tummy into his right. I told him that it felt really nice. It was then that his left hand went to the zipper at the back of the skirt. As he pulled it down I knew that he wanted me, and all my feelings of fear turned to lust.

A minute later, I was standing in front of Dad with my little skirt around my feet. I kicked it away. Dad’s left hand was rubbing the soft skin of my bottom, whilst his right continued to fondle my tummy. Dad was a decorator by trade, and he was still in his white coveralls. But I could see the bulge that was growing, and I wanted it in me.

‘You lactating yet?’ he suddenly enquired.

I shook my head.

‘Boobs gone bigger?’

I nodded.

‘Aureole too?’

‘Big and brown’, I replied.

‘Let’s see them.’ Dad ordered.

I lifted my arms and pulled off the top, exposing my breasts to my Dad.

I watched, fascinated, as his right hand moved up from my belly and began to fondle my breasts. As Dad pinched and squeezed my nipples, my head swooned with craving for him.

‘Lie on the bed’, he began, calmly. ‘Let’s see what I can do about those frustrations of yours.’

I lay on the edge of the bed with my feet still on the floor. Dad bent down and took hold of the sides of my thongs. I lifted my hips as he pulled them down and threw them on the floor, leaving me naked in front of him. I raised myself onto my elbows to watch Dad as he undid his coverall fly buttons. He struggled for a minute but, at last, he pulled out his rigid phallus. I licked my lips at the thought of him inserting the thing into me, and huskily whispered:

‘Fuck me Dad, please, please fuck me.’

Dad parted my legs and stepped in between them. He bent his knees and brought his fat, purple helmet against my pussy lips. In one exquisite movement Dad entered my vagina and I wrapped my legs around his waist like a vice. The thrill of having a dick inside me again was unbelievable. As Dad gave me slow, full strokes, I thrashed around beneath him. I had climaxed within a minute of his penetration. I could feel his meat sliding against my inner walls, brushing against my swollen clitoris and caressing my labia. My head lolled from side to side and I clawed at the sheets as he continued his thrusting into me. The room was filled with the noises of my satisfaction, finally sated after so long.

Dad screwed me for nearly twenty minutes before he told me that he couldn’t hold back any longer. I had had maybe three or four orgasms in that time. When I saw his face become contorted, I knew it was time. Just before he let his load flood into my womb, Dad said:

‘Let me be the first to wet the baby’s head.’

And with those words he unleashed a torrent of semen into his daughter.

As I tried to regain my breathing, Dad was wiping his dick on my panties and putting it back into his pants.

‘When can you bring that lovely prick back to me?’ I begged.

‘Any time you like.’ Dad replied. ‘How long for?’

‘Just till Jim fancies me again.’

Dad shook his head. ‘Uh –huh. You want me while you’re pregnant. I want you even when you’re not. At least once every month, all the time. That’s the deal.’

It took me about three seconds to decide. ‘See you tomorrow then, Dad.’

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