Susan & the Black Farm Labourers Ch. 08

I was a bit preoccupied that evening. I remember one of the guys arrived late in the evening. Susan had taken a long bath and was wrapped in a short fuzzy robe. She went to the kitchen when she heard footsteps outside, and I saw two shapes go up the stairs. Later I found the robe on the kitchen floor. I remember making a pot of coffee and checking out what was on television. I don't watch much TV so it was a pointless exercise. But mostly I was thinking of the pregnancy issue and recalling the strange dreams I had experienced. I was thinking about two dozen more Black men. I was thinking about Mike, the large Black man with the gruff personality who was also a fine artist whose cock was so big Susan would never be able to take it in her ass. And of course, the centre of the entire combination of things, how all the pieces fit together, was my wife's body. Take away any mental or intellectual capacity and my wife was a multi-celled, self-lubricating organism designed (either by nature or some omnipotent being) for self-pleasure and the pleasure of other multi-celled organisms. It was a strange thought, and one I couldn't shake. The very purpose of her body was to reproduce itself in some form - a superior version of itself if the sperm donor was of high quality. From a basic, biological perspective, intelligence didn't even figure into it. My wife would be fucking countless men even if she didn't have a mind or a soul. In fact that would be her basic function, as it would be the basic function of all women.

And male humans would simply be the disposable tool, literally and figuratively, to complete the reproduction. I made a mental note to check that Susan was taking her birth control pills.

I must have fallen asleep on the couch. I opened my eyes, I guess, when I heard the kitchen door shut. I heard Susan in the kitchen a few minutes later, and then she was on her way back to the bedroom. She stopped at the foot of the stairs when she saw me.

"You still up, Hon," she asked. "It must be 2 a.m."

"I just woke up," I said. "I guess you're done?"

"Yeh, Jonah couldn't stay the night, which is a bummer."

She had one foot on the bottom step, paused with her hand on the railing. She started to go up, and then hesitated.

"Me getting pregnant. It's the only fantasy left, isn't it?"

"I guess so," I replied. "I think we've done everything else. Pretty much. You taking your pills?"

"If I was younger it would be something to consider, wouldn't it," she asked. "Yeh, I'm taking them."

"Yes, it would be the ultimate," I said, "especially with William and his crew, or whoever the next bunch turns out to be. A bit late now though."

"You know, I'm in good shape. I'm not worried about being too old to actually bring a baby into the world," she said. "I'm worried that we'd be too old as parents. We'd be practically senior citizens by the time the kid turned 15. That's what I wouldn't want. It wouldn't be fair. And we've been parents for more than 20 years already."

I agreed. I couldn't do it all over again. I was worn out in that regard.

"Okay, then, it's settled," she said. "Tell her we'll find room for the three extra guys and for that one week we'll have three beds in the carriage house."

"But we only have two spare rooms," I said. "One guy would have to sleep in the carriage house and that wouldn't be possible in the cold weather."

"Hon, you're not thinking straight," she said. "We have two spare rooms - and our bedroom. Don't you realize where the third guy will be sleeping? It can't be any other way. That's the only way you'd want it."

She continued upstairs but stopped again.

"Hon, you want to sleep up here tonight," she asked. "You can't use my cunt, but I'll let you cum in my ass. Everybody else is fucking my ass and I just realized you've never even had your cock in it."

When I got to the bedroom, she was on her hands and knees, just like earlier with James. I stood at the foot of the bed and looked down at the red, loose, puckered hole, still slick with cum and pulsating with anticipation. I slid in. I slid into heaven. I slid in slowly, and when I was to the hilt, I stopped and she squeezed my cock. I stood like that and she milked me for a few moments and I couldn't believe the sensation. He anal muscles were clutching the base of my cock, then releasing. My balls were tight against her open pussy, and I could sense the wetness of her pussy juices as her anal contractions drew her vaginal slit up against me.

I reached a hand down below my cock and inserted my thumb into her cunt, found that spongy G-spot and pressed firmly against it. Then I slowly started to slide my cock in and out of her ass causing the thumb to massage the place that brings my wife to a massive, cum-squirting orgasm.

It was a slow rhythm, but soon Susan was moaning and her juices were slick on the base of my thumb and dripping down her clit and onto the edge of the bed.

I watched my cock slowly disappear and reappear. Her ass was loose and amazingly wet. I knew James had deposited at least one load in her there, and I could hardly keep from cuming as I relived the image of his cock, twice the size of mine, stretching her anus and finally spurting his jism deep inside.

Susan came and I released the pressure of my thumb. As I had expected, she squirted as she came, drenching my balls and inner thighs with her juice. She also clenched my cock, and it was all I could do to stop from cuming. After her body stopped shaking, I resumed fucking her at a slow pace, realizing that her ass was now even looser. But I couldn't keep it up forever, not when I thought of the use to which that room, that bed, that body would be put. My sperm welled up from my balls, flowed through my short cock, and gushed into my wife's bowels. I knew as it bathed the walls of her rectum that it was a useless action. No sperm would find its ultimate destination in that canal. That orifice with the egg at the end was reserved for bigger cock, more potent sperm, a more superior configuration of DNA.

But it felt good. Man did it feel good.

Susan accepted the load, worthless as it was. She slumped down on the bed as I eased out of her hole, the wet, hot opening lingering at cock size before slowly closing to seal off the white, sticky dump of sperm within. I marvelled at the deep, clutching orifice and had to agree with Dave that it was quite an amazing feeling to plunder those depths. I hadn't felt such release in six weeks.

I remember crawling up onto the bed, pulling the sheet over us and almost instantly slipping off to sleep. I don't remember any dreams.

Susan drove me to work the next day, then went and talked to the farmer. Between them they confirmed sleeping arrangements (Susan didn't tell her that one of the beds was her own), talked about the tutoring program, pay scale, schedules, transportation, date and time of the arrival, and a whole bunch of other things. The farmer would supply three beds for the carriage house for that one week of overlap.

I remember her picking me up at lunch time so I could drive her home, and then take the car to work. She was excited. The reality of the situation, now that it was more than a proposal, had her bright-eyed and bubbly. Her tits bounced under thin white material, and her hips flounced so the sundress swished and accentuated her hips and ass.

"Eugene this afternoon," I asked.

She nodded.

"He's in for a good time, isn't he?"

She smiled coyly.

"What makes you say that," she asked. "Something I said?"

"No," I replied. "I bet you're so wet right now that I'll have to scrub the upholstery."

She smiled again.

"Eugene will be happy," she confirmed. "Oh, could you pull over here? I have to get something."

We stopped in front of a drug store and Susan hurried in. A few minutes later she was back with a small bag. She handed it to me.

"I talked to William this morning," she said. "There's three months worth in there."

I looked in the bag. It was a box of a dozen condoms.

"They're the small ones," she said. "They should fit, shouldn't they?"

"Sure," I said, accepting the slight she was offering. "They'll fit."

I dropped her off, went back to work, and didn't get home until after 6 p.m. I was late because I'd had a visit from the farmer.

"I just found out that your wife will have to complete a one-week training program before she can qualify for the tutoring program," she said. "I don't know how she'll like it. All expenses will be paid and she'll be paid well for the training session. The thing is, it's at the Jamaican consulate in the city."

This was a new twist. I pressed her for details and she said it started in two weeks and Susan would be put up at the consulate.

"When did you find all this out," I asked, starting to get irritated at the magnitude and complexity of the situation.

"An hour ago," she said, a bit defensively. "Nothing I could do. Either she goes or I find somebody else. I don't make the rules. And I doubt if I'll find anybody else."

"So, a week by herself at the consulate," I said. "I don't know. I guess it's up to her. I'll ask her to drop by your place after supper."

She gave me an envelop with some faxed pages outlining the training session.

"Give those to Susan," she said. "She can look at them before tonight."

When I got home, Susan admitted to a fun afternoon. She was wearing the white dress she and William had bought that first day. Her pussy swelled against the material. Her nipples jutted through it, everything visible. I can't remember who had visited that afternoon. Eugene, that's right. She seemed fulfilled.

"Training," she asked with surprise. "Nobody said anything about training. You would think that would have been the first thing they would have said. Strange."

I agreed. The whole setup seemed strange.

"So, does this change anything," I asked. "You going to do the training?"

"Well, it's either do it, or the whole thing folds," she said. "It's almost like somebody high up is concocting this whole thing. It's like they know."

That thought had crossed my mind. I said I'd make a few phone calls.