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How on earth could I keep this to myself for the next four hours? As I left the doctor’s surgery I knew that I would have to wait until five-thirty before I could tell my husband, Jim. I could call my Mum, of course, or any of my five elder sisters, but I wanted Jim to be the first to know that we were going to have a baby.

Jim and I had been together since we were both eleven years old. We had been school sweethearts and had married three years ago when we were seventeen. And now I had the most wonderful news; we were soon to be a family of three. It was a moment we had been trying for since we married. I knew that he, his family and mine, would all be overcome with joy.

When he came home from work at the usual time, I jumped into his arms, not caring for the oil and grease that covered his overalls; Jim works as a maintenance fitter in a large factory. He swung me round and round as I confirmed to him what we had learned the week before from a home pregnancy kit. Jim told me to put on my party dress, as we had to celebrate the happiest event in our lives in style.

Jim took me to a fabulous new restaurant in town, before moving on to a club, where we danced until 2am. As we got out of the taxi, I was feeling rather horny. But Jim, who had had far too much to drink, just wanted to get to bed and go to sleep.

I can’t really explain what happened to me from that night onwards; maybe it was hormones kicking in as a result of being pregnant. Whatever the reason, it changed me.

I had been lying in bed for nearly half an hour, trying to get rid of the sexual tension that enslaved my body. I had started to play with myself, but it wasn’t giving me the release that I normally enjoyed. Then, almost instinctively, my left hand went out and touched Jim’s hard stomach. I wanted him to give me a really good fucking, but he just continued with his light snoring, ignoring my requests to wake up. I knew of something that might do the trick, so I wriggled myself down under the quilt until my face was level with Jim’s belly. Jim always sleeps in the raw, so I began to gently lick around his navel. As my tongue traced a slow path downwards, I sensed his body reacting unconsciously to my stimulus. By the time my mouth licked at his hips, and my long dark hair fell across his still flaccid cock, Jim was beginning to groan slightly.

My hot, moist tongue was now at the root of Jim’s prick. I teased my tip along the upper side of its expanding length. I had barely touched his sensitive helmet when I felt Jim’s hands on my head, encouraging me to envelop his meat completely.

As I opened my mouth as wide as I could, I let his generously sized sword slide along my tongue towards the back of my throat. By the time I had given him two full strokes, Jim was awake and begging me to continue.

Jim threw back the quilt to watch me as I bobbed up and down on his purple weapon.. I felt him take a clump of my hair in his hands and pull at it cruelly; I knew he liked to feel dominant when I was blowing him off. After a few minutes of this, Jim warned me that he couldn’t hold back any longer, and that I’d better pull away now. This might sound strange, but even though I love my husband more than I could possibly say, I had always been sickened by the idea of swallowing his semen. But at that moment, and like I said, I don’t know why, I just wanted him to explode inside my cheeks.

‘Baby, babyyyyyyyy,’ he began, ‘ pull it out now. I’m cominggggg.’

I let my gaze rise up to catch his, but kept the tip of his prick firmly between my lips. My expression precluded the need to say what I was thinking; ‘So, come’.

Suddenly, Jim’s stomach muscles, that had so far been rock hard, seemed to turn to jelly. And at that very moment he shot a jet of thick, gooey liquid into my mouth. He pressed my head down forcing me to take him all in. I started to gag and had to swallow the fluid in order to breathe. After a few seconds, Jim released the pressure that had been holding my face firmly against his groin, and I let his dick slip out of my mouth. I had taken down his entire load, and was pleasantly surprised that it hadn’t tasted anywhere near as bad as I had expected; a bit like a fishy milk shake.

Jim pulled me up to his face and kissed me passionately.

‘What brought that on?’ he enquired.

‘I don’t know,’ I replied honestly. ‘I think being pregnant is making me so horny that I’m willing to do things that I wouldn’t do usually.’

‘Horny enough to do the other thing I’ve always wanted?’

‘What’s that?’, I asked. Like I didn’t know already

‘You know. Let me see you being fucked by other men.’

I looked up at him, teasingly biting at my thumb nail. Unbelievably, I heard myself say:

‘Yes Honey, that horny.’

I knew that now I had agreed, Jim would never let it drop. He had had this fantasy for many years. As I lay in his arms he was already making plans. Just talking about me being gang-banged made him hard again, and as he fucked me senseless, he promised he’d have it all set up very quickly.

Now, when Jim says quick, he means quick. The next day he came home from work with an idea as to how he could get to see his young wife being shagged rotten by other men. There’s this big hotel on the far side of town that’s used a lot by business men during the week and for private receptions at the weekend; weddings, birthday parties and that kind of thing. The next day was Wednesday, and Jim said we should try out his plan that night.

I don’t work any more, as Jim’s wages are pretty good, especially with the overtime that he gets. So all of that day I was left all alone to brood on what the night might bring. To be completely honest, I was feeling a mixture of dread fear and high arousal. Jim was the only man I had ever slept with, and the thought of sex with other men had never turned me on. Not until now, that is. Now I wanted very much to be ravished in front of my husband’s gaze, to see his reactions as another prick rammed in and out of me; as another man’s semen filled up his wife’s belly; or mouth maybe!

Jim came home on time. There was no overtime work for him that night, he made sure of that. I was too nervous to eat, but Jim’s appetite was greater than usual. It seemed like he was certainly up for it.

We left the house at seven-thirty and drove the five or six miles to the hotel. Traffic was fairly busy and we got there at just after eight. Jim had told me to dress trashy and to put on plenty of lip gloss. He parked the car in the hotel lot, and went in to look for a suitable man for me to approach. Ten minutes later he came back, his face beaming. There was a guy sat at the bar on his own who looked promising. Jim made sure I had the details of the plan firmly fixed in my head, and sent me in. I was very nervous as I entered the hotel lobby. I kept my head lowered as I walked passed the reception desk and into the bar. It was quiet and I spotted the man right away. Unfortunately, what Jim hadn’t noticed, yet was plainly obvious to me, was that the guy would have probably fancied my husband more than me. I almost couldn’t hide my embarrassment as I turned tail and left as quickly as I could. Jim was pragmatic about the mistake, however, and said we’d try again the next night.

That didn’t prove to be much better. At least this time the man wasn’t gay. He did, unfortunately, have a wife though. She showed up just as I was getting into my stride of seduction, and hurried me off like I was some kind of prostitute.

I failed to see the funny side and told Jim that I wouldn’t be trying that again. But by the time the following Monday came around, my husband had managed to coax me into giving it one more attempt. He reasoned that the start of a fresh working week was bound to be better than we had experienced so far.

I sat in the car outside the hotel, as usual, whilst Jim reconnoitred the bar. Just a few minutes after leaving the car, I saw Jim coming back towards me. In fact, he was running so fast that he probably would have broken some kind of record for the 100 metres.

‘This is it, baby.’ He said as he sat down behind the steering wheel, face beaming.

‘And guess what,’ he continued, smiling like a kid with a new toy. ‘There’s two of them. Man, when they get a load of you, they’re gonna be like bees round a honey pot. Get in there baby, and don’t forget to give me the signal.’

Jeez, I thought, two of them. I was really letting myself jump in at the deep end. I pushed at the revolving doors and entered the trap. After the experiences of last week, I had lost my inhibitions at walking through the reception area. The staff were all too busy anyway, and none of them even looked in my direction.

As I entered the darkened bar, I immediately saw the two men that Jim had alluded to. I walked in their direction, making it very clear that I appeared to be searching for someone. I realised that they knew I was there, but it wasn’t until I let my long coat open a little, to reveal a bare thigh, that I got their undivided attention.

As they admired the right leg that I had put on show for them, it gave me time to look them over. They were both about 45 or 50 years’ old, and dressed in typical boring business suits. One guy was white and the other was Asian; from India or Pakistan maybe. Eventually, the white guy’s gaze drifted from my legs up to my face.

‘Looking for someone, young lady?’ he asked, in a deep voice.

God, I should have been an actress, I thought. This was going to be very easy.

I turned to face him and smiled.

‘Yes, my husband.’ I began. ‘He said that he’d meet me here twenty minutes ago and that we’d go out to a club. He knows I don’t like being in bars by myself, and I’m really angry with him.’

The Asian guy then spoke for the first time. He suggested that I join him and his friend until my husband showed up. When I said that I’d love to, providing that I wasn’t interfering with their business, I caught a glance of conspiracy between them. They said that I’d be a welcome diversion. Yes, I thought, I’ll bet I would be.

The white guy was a smart operator, and suggested that we sit at a booth rather than at the bar. He said that we would be in a better position to see my husband. But in fact, he led the three of us to the darkest, quietest, and most secluded seats that the hotel bar had to offer. He walked behind the round table, leaving me no option but to be the filling in their sandwich, as the dark man took his place behind me.

I was about to sit down when the Asian suggested that I might be more comfortable if I took my coat off. I undid the four buttons that held it together and he practically tore it from my body. I was extremely pleased when I heard their collective audible gasp, as they saw what I wore underneath. You see, Jim thinks that, next to Kylie Minogue, I have the cutest arse in the world. And just like Kylie’s latest video appearance, I had put on a pair of the shortest, tightest gold lame hot pants that you ever saw. I know the effect they have on him, so I could guess that they appealed to the base desires of my two new admirers. To accompany the hot pants, I had on a gold handkerchief top that showed my bare midriff (as yet not distended by pregnancy), and wore a pair of the sexiest gold ankle strap sandals that had ever been made.

By the time I sat down and slowly crossed one leg over the other, they had wedged me between them pretty tightly. A waiter came up and they asked me what I’d like to drink. I said that a gin and tonic would go down well. The dark guy told the waiter to bring three, and to make them all doubles.

By the time the drinks had arrived I had given them a pretty good look over. The white guy was over six feet and powerfully built; he obviously worked out. He was rugged and handsome, with a shock of grey hair. The Asian man was almost the opposite in every detail. He was small and fat, bald, and had a face that was pockmarked from some horrible childhood disease. When he smiled at me he showed a row of broken yellow teeth.

They encouraged me to drink up, and were quick to ask the waiter over again. This time though, they ordered only a drink for me. The white guy thought I hadn’t noticed as he gestured with his hands to the waiter that the drink should be a very large one. I also saw the waiter’s knowing nod as he glanced at my legs and walked to the bar; he knew exactly what their plans for me were.

They engaged me in meaningless conversation for about fifteen minutes, whilst I pretended to be glancing around looking for my husband.

‘Where do you think he is?’ the white guy asked me.

‘Probably out with some tart.’ I replied. ‘I don’t mind what he does with other women as long as he doesn’t neglect me. But he’s had his last chance now. He’s getting it all and I’m not getting any.’ And I feigned an anger that even impressed me.

All of a sudden I sensed a change in the atmosphere. Clearly, so did the two men. Without the slightest hesitation, just as I was putting my near empty glass on the table, the Asian guy placed his right hand on my thigh. The butterflies in my stomach that I had had just a few minutes ago as I had approached the men for the first time, were now gone. The strong gins had given me dutch courage and I felt horny as hell as I looked down on the sweaty hand that was now caressing my leg.

‘Why don’t the three of us go up to our room?’ he hissed. ‘I’m sure my friend and I can give you everything you need.’ As I turned to face his friend, the white guy put his right hand on my arm and began to stroke it up and down. From the other side of the bar, I could see the waiter smiling to himself.

‘I don’t know.’ I replied. ‘What if my husband should show up?’ But the mere fact that I was even thinking about it gave them the encouragement they needed to continue.

‘Fuck him,’ began the white guy. ‘He’s a bastard to you. You said so yourself. Lets the three of us go upstairs, have a few drinks, we’ve go a bottle of scotch up there, and have some fun.’

As he said that, his hand left my arm and joined the black guy’s on my leg.

I wasn’t acting as I moaned slightly whilst they fondled my bare thighs and pulled them slightly apart, their touch reaching ever nearer the top of my legs. This was the first time that I had ever been touched like this by another man, let alone two of them.

‘Okay,’ I heard myself say. ‘Would you pass me my coat.’

The Asian guy handed it to me and stood up. I told him that I’d just like to finish my drink first. This gave me the time to slip my hand into my coat pocket and press the button on my cellular phone that was the signal for my husband to come in. I could imagine the excitement that he was feeling as he heard his phone ring. It could mean only one thing; success.

Two minutes later, as I finished the last mouthful, Jim came into sight in the bar. I turned to the two men.

‘There he is. There’s the drunken bastard.’

As I got up to go to him, the white guy took a firm hold on my arm and asked where I was going. When I told him I was going to go to my husband, he pulled me roughly back into my seat.

‘The three of us have a deal, young lady.’ He whispered through gritted teeth.

‘And the only place you’re going is up to our room.’

Just at that moment Jim caught my eye.

‘Ahhhhhhh, there you are.’ He slurred, pretending to be drunk. In fact, it was a performance that fooled me.

I pretended to tear into him for not being here on time, and for eventually showing up in a state that was near collapse. I told him that these two gentlemen had kindly agreed to keep me company while I waited. Before I could say anything else, the Asian guy asked Jim to join us for a drink. Jim played the part of a drunk well, and gladly accepted the offer of a large scotch.

Jim was pretending to be almost completely inebriated, and was almost dozing off when the white guy spoke.

‘Seems silly to buy drinks at these high hotel prices when we’ve got a bottle of scotch in our room. Why don’t you and your lovely wife come up and share it with us?’

Jim was acting the drunkard’s role so well that both men had reverted to openly fondling my legs, in full view of my husband. Although blind to them, the movement in Jim’s pants told me just how excited he was becoming.

‘Sure, sounds like a great idea.’ He enthused.

The two men looked at each other. They leaned across me and spoke as though I wasn’t even there:

‘This boy’s not going to give us any trouble at all.’ Said the Asian.

The white guy smiled in agreement, and suggested that we make a move now. They waited until Jim was in front and then stood up on either side of me. The white guy took my coat and purse off me and said he’d carry them. The four of us walked out of the bar towards the bank of elevators in the lobby. Jim swayed into the lift when the doors opened and the two men pushed me in between them.

Jim leaned against the elevator wall, pretending to be semi-unconscious. The Asian guy pressed the button for the twentieth floor. There were only the four of us in there. As the elevator began its ascent, I felt both men place hands on my arse. They began to squeeze my cheeks. I wriggled at their touch, inviting them to continue. They made no effort to keep their voices down as they commented that I was ‘ready for it tonight’. Jim remained falsely oblivious in front of us.

As the elevator came to a halt on the right floor, the two men became impatient at the time the doors were taking to open.

‘ ‘bout fucking time.’ Said the white guy as they eventually parted. ‘get her into the room, quick.’

They pushed me out into the corridor, past my struggling husband.

‘2035, pal.’ Said the Asian to Jim. ‘We’ll get a move on and leave the door open.’

Then, standing either side of me, the two men each took hold of one of my arms, and frog-marched me along the hall to their room. In my high heels it was difficult to keep up with them, and in fact, at one point they were dragging me along.

As we reached the door, I could see Jim looking up at us. He would have seen the white guy fumbling to get the key card into the slot, whilst the Asian guy stood behind me, pinning my arms to my sides. He may even have heard my captor telling the taller man to ‘get a fucking move on’. He would have seen the door open, and he would have seen his wife getting pushed into the room.

I don’t know exactly what Jim saw when entered the room a few seconds later. Because by then the two men had me up against a wardrobe, and my vision was restricted, as their lips slobbered all over my face. It was the pockmarked Asian who first put his tongue into my mouth. As he did so, the white guy was kissing around my neck and left ear. I briefly remember him telling my, so called drunken, husband to help himself to the bottle of whiskey.

Each of them had sent a hand up under my top. And as the men continued to salivate over my mouth, they pinched and squeezed cruelly at my breasts and enlarged, and hardened nipples. Then they pulled the slender straps of my top over my shoulders exposing my breasts fully. As their mouths both went down to lick and bite and chew on them, I finally caught Jim’s gaze. We looked at each other and smiled. I was being used as never before, and he was enjoying every minute of it.

After a couple of minutes of this, the Asian took hold of my top, which was now curled around my waist like a belt, and pulled me over to one of the two double beds that were in the room. As he threw me down on top of it, both men climbed on beside me. Once more I saw his yellowing teeth coming towards me, and seconds later his fat tongue was licking around the inside of my mouth.

My view obscured again, I felt the white guy tugging at the button on the side of my hot pants.

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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Father gets horny for his pregnant daughter, 4.3 out of 10 based on 6 ratings