Connie Never Knew

My name is John Taylor. I grew up in a midsized southern town in Alabama. I met my wife when we were in high school together. Connie Smith was a real beauty, with long legs and curves in all the right places. Her hair was long and brown with a reddish tint. She reminded me of an actress I had seen on TV, on one of those soap operas, but I could never remember the name. I fell for her the first time I ever saw her, and spent every minute after that chasing her like a dog after a female in heat.

I asked her out and to my surprise she said yes. I took her to dinner (a hamburger) and a movie, and then afterward, under a tree in front of her house, I kissed her for the first time. We were both 18 at the time. Our lips were sealed together in a soft delicate kiss. As our lips became acquainted, our kissing grew more and more passionate. And so we became a couple.

We dated each other exclusively all through our senior year in high school. Our passions heated slowly, because she was shy and was raised up very puritanical. It was several months before I could get my hand on her breasts, and several more months to get her blouse buttons undone. I'll never forget the first time I reached into her bra to cup her bare breast. My whole arm trembled the way only a teenage virgin would.

We kept on dating, and, as teenagers do, gradually experimented with the boundaries of our sexuality. Soon I had free access to her breasts entirely, and then her bare thighs, so satiny smooth, a caress to her panty covered mound, and then a finger in her slippery vagina. But never would she allow me to go all the way. All this occurred over a period of a couple years. A lot of guys would have lost patience, but the thing is I really loved her. I didn't want anyone else. So I satisfied myself with what I could get.

One night at the Drive-In, after some heavy petting in the back seat of my Plymouth Fury (thank God for those big old cars) I told her I had developed a severe case of blue balls, in the hope that I might receive some pity. I pleaded my case like a Philadelphia lawyer, but to no avail. I became angry. "If you won't help me" I said, "I guess I'll just have to help myself."

Right then and there, I opened my Levi's and let my six and a half inch erection spring free. Connie's face turned beet red. "Oh, my God." she said. I began to stroke my cock up and down, as I had done so often in private. At first she averted her eyes modestly, but her curiosity got the better of her. It was, no doubt, the first time she had ever seen a cock, save maybe her baby brothers, and definitely the first erect cock in all its glory. She stared quietly as I masturbated in front of her. Connie never said anything, but I could see her breasts rising and falling as if she were breathing heavily. My balls started to boil, the testosterone rose, and I emptied my load into an empty drink cup from the floor board. That was the night I introduced Connie to my manhood.

Another time, when we were riding around on the outskirts of town, I decided to bump things up another notch. The was a train track that crossed the road in front of us. I stopped the car on the track, put it in park, and then turned off the engine. "What are you doing?" Connie asked. "I thought I'd park here a while and play with my dick" I said. Connie looked at me like I was crazy, then she said, "Are you crazy, a train could come around that curve at any minute."

I unzipped and pulled out my cock, massaging it to a quick erection. "You're going to get us killed, asshole!" she said. I just kept stroking.

"Jesus, John. Please don't do this! I'm scared." she said. I could see she was getting nervous, her eyes darting back and forth from me to the spot where the train might come from.

"If you'll give my cock some proper attention, then we can go" I told her.

"And just what does that mean?" she asked.

"Put your hand on it and hold it. Then, maybe we'll go home."

Connie looked at me sideways once, then at the train tracks, then back again. I could tell she was trying to choose between the lesser of two evils. Her prim southern morals thought what I was asking was reprehensible. But her fear of the train and the dark of night were too much to bear. Nervously, she reached out her hand and let her fingers slip slowly around my cock. This time it was her arm that trembled. Her grip became firmer after a moment, and she began to stroke it. Time came to a standstill. How long Connie stroked my dick, I have no idea. A minute or five minutes, who knows, but it was wonderful, and I remember it to this day. Then her hand pulled away.

"Ok, that's enough. Start the car and take me home"

"I don't think so. I need you to kiss it, you know, and maybe lick it a little" I told her. She looked at me with big green eyes in horror. But the look on her face slowly changed to one of resignation. I think somehow, Connie knew I held all the cards that night.

Connie leaned forward to my crotch and then put her lips were on the head of my cock and she kissed it. She planted baby kisses on the head and along the shaft. My mind and my ego were thrilled immensely. She began to use her tongue on the shaft. My mind was racing. I couldn't believe that Connie Smith, the beautiful girl of my desire, was using her mouth to please my cock.

Then she stopped. She sat up and returned to her side of the car and looked out the window. She never said a word.

Oddly enough, I hadn't cum from this first oral adventure. Even more oddly, I didn't care. But I did care about that damned train, so I fired up that car and headed down the road. After a few moments, I glanced sideways at Connie, and I could swear she was holding back a grin.

Time progressed. I took a job at the paper mill. She took a job at a grocery store. Our lust continued to grow unsatisfied until one weekend that would change the nature of our relationship forever.

We were both 19 by then. Her mother left to attend a family thing back in West Virginia. Connie had to work so she was left at home alone, it was a Friday night and Connie invited me over for dinner. She cooked a wonderful Lasagna, a specialty of her mothers. After dinner, we settled down on the sofa in front of the TV. We kissed and cuddled, I noticed she was wearing a new outfit, a black tube top with a matching black skirt. She looked sexy as he'll, but I was content with just kissing and cuddling. I was tired after working in the mill all week, and it was nice to just be with her with her. We shared 1/2 a joint together, as we lounged on the sofa, fondling and kissing.

Then, with no warning, Connie stood up before me. Her hands were caressing her bare midriff and hips. She looked me in the eye and said "Would you like to fuck me?"

You could have knocked me over with a feather. Would I?

I took her by the hand and lead her back to her bedroom. Our lips became locked as we reclined on her bed. I pushed her tube top down to expose her 34b breasts. My lips shifted from her mouth to her left breast, then to her right. I sucked her tits like a child. She moaned, enjoying the attention my tongue played her magnificent tits. My hand descended to lift her skirt to find a pair of modest pink panties. I began to pull them down, and she raised her ass to assist.

Her cunt was exposed to me for the first time in proper lighting, not the dim lighting of the back seat at a drive in. Her mound was covered sparsely with red curls. Her slit was moist and it showed. I placed my finger at her slit, slowly tracing the outside, without penetrating. Her moaning increased, and she called my name. At the same time, I continued to feast at the table of her breasts.

Suddenly, Connie pulled my face from her breasts to her mouth, kissing me fervently with her tongue dancing with mine. When we stopped to breath, she said to my astonishment, "Eat me."

Never before had I been invited to please her oraly. I thought she was too modest to allow it, or too shy to suggest it. But here she was, begging me to eat her pussy.

I was happy to oblige, but unsure how to progress, this being a new endeavor for me. I placed my face in front of her womanhood, only a few inches between us.

For a few seconds I just looked. It was as if I was looking at my whole world. The culmination of years of frustration finally paying off. Then, like a man starved, I began. What I lacked in knowledge, I made up for in enthusiasm. I tongued her pussy up and down, side to side, nibbling on the lips. I knew from books and street talk about the little man in the boat, so I paid careful attention to her clitoris. Her ass lifted up off the bed, gyrating from side to side. Increasingly she became more and more vocal, and then her whole body began to convulse. She lifted her ass off the bed as if to press her vagina into my face. She screamed, not out loud, but a suppressed scream, as if not wanting anyone to hear her, although no one was there but me.

Connie grabbed my hair, pulling me away from her pussy to her face. She kissed me hard, with a fervency I had never known from her. Then she said "Do it. Just do it, please."

I looked at her as if I could not believe the words she had just said. After pursuing her for so long, she was now begging me to fuck her. To take her virginity that she had withheld for years.

I must have hesitated too long, contemplating the task before me, because she kissed me long and hard again, saying " Just do it, damn you. Do it!"

My cock was as hard as a rock, still confined by my Levi jeans. Connie's hand was at my belt, trying awkwardly to release the buckle. I brushed her hand aside and did it myself, unzipping and freeing myself in one fluid motion. When the Levi's were puddled at my feet, I reached for the zipper to Connie's skirt, which zipped straight down the side. Once unzipped, I pulled the skirt from under her ass and threw it across the room. Her tube top remained bunched up around her midriff.

Connie's legs parted with her knees folded, inviting me. I moved forward boldly, my cock within inches of her vagina. I rubbed my cock up and down her slit, making it slick with her juices. I tickled her clitoris with the head of my cock, making her moan and whine with lust. "Stop it, damn you. Do it...Now!" But I was being perverse. I wanted to make the moment last and savor it. I suckled one breast, then the other, interrupted occasionally by sweet kisses on her mouth, all the while continuing to saw my cock back and forth along her slit.

"Please stop teasing me, you bastard. I need you inside. Fuck me." Her hand reached for my cock, grasping it, attempting to insert it on her own. I knew the moment could be delayed no longer. I brushed her hand away. I took her left hand in my right and her right hand in my left. I shifted my knees to angle my cock directly at the entrance of her glistening cunt. Slowly I eased forward until the head of my circumcised cock found her entrance.

So here I am, I thought, at the gates of heaven. My reward for 3 1/2 years of pursuit. At this point, I became delirious with lust. My brain went on auto pilot, and I responded as men have done since the beginning of time. With no thought to Connie's feelings, of being gentle, of being tender, I thrust my hips forward into her with all my might, ripping her virginity into shreds, burying my cock on her to the hilt, my nuts resting on her ass.

Connie screamed in agony, she tried to turn away from me, but I held her close, kissing her, and whispering into her ear, "You're not a virgin anymore." The warmth of being inside her was amazing. Not only was her virginity gone, but so was mine.

When the initial pain of Connie's deflowering subsided, we began to fuck, with her fucking me back with equal enthusiasm. While I would like to say our first time was like firecrackers on the Fourth of July, it wasn't. It was just an ordinary fuck, with missionary to start with, followed by 5 minutes of doggie style, finishing with her on top. All too soon, my balls began to churn, and I blew my load in her, with no thought to protection at all by either of us. Afterward, we took a shower together, another first. We soaped and washed each other like old lovers. We kissed and cuddled and said nice things to one another, and then I went home. I would have spent the night with her, but her Mother was due back home early in the morning, so we couldn't take the chance.

I had already asked Connie to marry me, and she had said yes, but no date had ever been set. After that night, I insisted that we marry right away, just in case she was pregnant. So exactly two weeks later we stood up before a Justice of the Peace in a neighboring state that had no waiting period and said our vows. We became Mr. and Mrs. Taylor.

I bought a small house in a decent community a few miles away from where we grew up, and me moved in immediately. It wasn't much of a house, but Connie made it a home. She decorated the house with good taste and took great pride in her flower beds and azaleas.

It turns out, Connie was not pregnant after all, but we accepted that as a blessing, because it allowed us to keep fucking like rabbits. It's amazing what a marriage license can do to a young southern girl. I think when I said "I do" she said "You will". Connie craved sex every night. Only when I had to work a double shift did I get a break. We fucked in every position known to man or woman. We fucked on the bed, on the sofa, on the kitchen table, on the floor, on a blanket in the backyard in the dark. She learned to suck my cock like a porn star, even swallowing. She loved to have her pussy licked. I gave her climax after climax on my tongue. Her only hang-up was her butt. That was dirty and a no go zone.

Life was good. I made good money at the mill and Connie got a job as an insurance agent. After the second year, we bought a big house in one of those golf club communities, with a big pool in the backyard and a privacy fence. That was different. Connie loved to fuck by the pool at night with the lights off. We had no close neighbors, so we had no worries about being spied on. She also liked to tan nude by the pool, saying she hated tan lines.

We continued to fuck like two rabbits, with no concern for birth control. Every month we expected Connie might turn up pregnant, but it didn't happen. Connie stopped being a young girl and matured into a drop dead foxy 26 year old woman. That's when thing changed.

She never talked about it much, but I could tell that Connie was itching to feather her nest. All her friends had given birth by now, some even had a second child. She always made a big fuss over her friend's kids. She would say things like "I hope our son is as cute as little Bobby." And then one day I went to the mailbox and found that damn parenting magazine. I knew Connie's clock had begun to tick.

Why wasn't Connie pregnant, I asked myself? I flooded her cunt with sperm almost every day for the past 6 years, with no pills, no condoms. Was it me? I started trying harder, forsaking alcohol, eating more green vegetables. No use. It didn't work.

I decided to make an appointment with a doctor to be checked behind Connie's back, to see if I was ok. If I was ok, no need to mention it, and a load would be off my mind. If not?

Finally the day came for the appointment. I went in, jerked off in a cup, and went home to my wife. Luckily, by the time we went to bed that night, I still had enough starch to satisfy her.

Two weeks later I was called into the doctor's office. Guess what? I was 99.9 % infertile. I barely had enough swimmers to make up a swim team, while most men were spewing millions every time. How could it be? The doctor said it was not impossible for me to be a father, but it was highly unlikely. Sort of like winning the lottery or drawing four cards to make a straight flush. Damn!

I went home and drained a bottle of Scotch that night. Connie wondered what the hell was up. There was no fucking that night. My dick was limp as a noodle. My ego was crushed. All my plans for the future seemed gone. No son, no heir to my name. John Taylor, son of Jack Taylor, grandson of Carl Taylor. Now, no more Taylors. I felt awful and became quite depressed.

I couldn't tell Connie about this. I could see in her eyes how much she craved a child of her own. If I told her, she would be devastated. Once she found out we could never have children, she might even leave me. The prospect of that haunted me.

What could I do? I could come clean and confess my sorry condition to Connie. We could then seek medical intervention, a sperm donor and artificial insemination. But my ego and pride would not allow me to admit how much less of a man I felt like.

The only thing to do was to get her pregnant by another man without letting her know she had another man. How could I do that? I certainly didn't want her to be screwed by another man. Connie was mine, and no man in his right mind would share a beauty like her. But the thing is, I loved her, and I knew how much she wanted to be a mother. I had to let her be impregnated. But how?

I contemplated on this for several weeks before a plan finally began to take shape. A perfect time would be during a power outage, which would be the perfect time for a romantic interlude. In total darkness, Connie would never know it was not me having sex with her, provided the donor was of similar build, clean shaven, and had a similar cock.

Then the plot began to thicken. I had a younger brother from my father's second wife. His name was Billy. He and I were not close, but he was my brother, and more importantly, a Taylor. If I could not sire a child with her, at least her baby would still be a true Taylor.

Billy was 18, a senior in high school. He and I were about the same build, same hair, he probably had the same size cock as me. I knew Billy had several girlfriends, and was no virgin, so he would know what to do. And, as they say, he was young, dumb, and full of cum.

The more I thought about it the more I became convinced it was the only thing to do. It was the only way to make Connie happy and save face at the same time. I hated the idea of Connie being touched by another man, but I could not bear the idea of her waiting month after month for a child I knew I could never give her. I only had to get Billy on board, swear him to secrecy, and then set the stage. Getting Billy to agree would be no problem. 18 year old boys are always loaded and cocked.

I called Billy on Monday and asked him if he would like to go out for a few beers on Wednesday after school, you know big brother/ little brother bonding. We hadn't spent a lot of time together in the past few years. My work hours and his school and dating kept us busy. He agreed to meet me, saying " Sure thing, John, I'd like that. It'll be just like old times." This would not be like old times.

I picked Billy up at my father's place Wednesday afternoon about 5:00 pm. He was outside polishing his car. "Hop in," I said. "But grab a couple cold ones out of the cooler in the back of my truck bed." He did, offering one to me as he slid into the cab of my Ford F150 pickup. "Glad you remembered," He said, "Bud Light."

I pulled away from Dad's place. I probably should have gone in to see Dad, but I didn't have time for that.

I drove Billy to a pond owned by my Dad a few miles out in the sticks. I had a couple bait casters in the truck, so we fished some plastic worms around the pond with no luck. I had taught Billy how to fish in this same pond when he was eight years old. The beer seemed to hold more attraction than the bass, so we drank some more.

After the fourth or fifth beer, I got the nerve to tell Billy about my situation, that I couldn't become a father. He said he felt real sorry for me and how terrible that must be for me. I told him I needed a favor. "Sure, anything" he said. I told him I needed him to impregnate Connie.