This work was completed during the month of: September 2008

   Never Disappoint, by BlueHat

Shelly was a fair-skinned brunette with a cute button nose, a tiny waistline, and very bright green eyes. In fact, she was easy on the eyes indeed. Everything about her seemed long: Her small waist was complimented by a tall torso, just like that of a model. Her neck was tall and looked very kissable. Her legs were long and thin. Even her arms and fingers were long. Yet, she was overall thin and weighed only 104 pounds. Her long features made her look very womanly and beautiful, but her thin, petite body portrayed a visage of a very young teenager.

And to top it all off, she was *always* smiling.

Shelly had tons of energy, and always wanted to make people excited -- perhaps just about life. If you announced that a new movie -- almost any kind of movie -- was now playing at the local theater, Shelly's eyes would get very wide, her mouth would gape open, and she would loudly suck in air with a gasp and say, "Wow! Isn't that exciting? Let's go see that!" If somebody had some bad news, Shelly would crinkle her nose, puff out her cheeks, and distort her mouth into a random shape. After waiting enough time, she'd then tickle the person sitting next to her.

At 22, she had just finished college, but she never boasted about that. She wasn't the boasting type. Her body had survived the onslaught of bad college habits, like eating junk food and drugs. Though she had tried everything "once", she hadn't indulged fully in anything, including sex. Of course she was not a virgin, but she had only had 3 different partners during her 4 college years. This was despite the fact that she loved to flirt with guys, and to see them smile almost as much as she did. She flirted with men as old as 40 and as young as 19, and at 31, I landed somewhere in the middle.

I had noticed Shelly from afar, like a few other guys, after she had moved into New York City. You would never believe how excited the city made her -- she pointed around wide-eyed at just about everything. Shelly joined our little circle of sort-of geeky friends. Don't get me wrong, we were all very attractive people, we just liked geeky things like computers and fantasy games. Shelly discovered that she loved to shop, something that a lot of girls find when they arrive at the Big Apple. And like most people, she couldn't afford most of the things she liked, but she was happy anyway and enjoyed simply visiting stores.

Now, Shelly was quite an attractive girl, for the reasons I have already mentioned. But that alone wasn't what got me really interested in her. It was when she told me, "Ugh. I don't really like kids. They are really cute and everything, but they get pretty annoying after 5 minutes. I'm glad everybody *else* has them so that I can play with them for a bit, but yuck, I would hate to be a parent. I enjoy my freedom!" This was a bit ironic coming from someone who so enjoyed life and enjoyed watching other people smile. Usually that type of personality in a woman loves, and wants, kids. It was great to hear this, though, because I didn't like or want kids, either.

Things progressed with Shelly and me, and we went on a couple of dates. After the first date, I went out and bought a pack of condoms, just in case. On the evening of the second date, I convinced her to come up to my apartment. She sat on my sofa and we talked for a while. Then, we were kissing, and before you know it, we had our clothes off. I was rock hard and slipped on a condom. We rutted in absolute bliss until both of us came. (She came before I did.) After that, we were hooked on each other.

We saw each other for months afterward. We went to movies, to the park, and ate ice cream. We smiled and laughed when together for hours. We offered each other strong sentiments of love, and whispered "I love you" to each other. Our relationship grew from months into a year. We had amazing times together, and the sex was great for both of us. We always used a condom each time since Shelly was not on any kind of birth control. It had never really occurred to her to get on it; she honestly had never thought about it.

Once while I was fucking Shelly, with me on top of her and with her legs spread wide for me, I was looking at her super cute face and I suddenly wondered what it might be like if I wasn't wearing a condom. Holy shit, it would feel so fucking amazing, I realized. I wouldn't have latex to seriously desensitize my feeling. It would be like normal sex with her but 100 times better. Wow, I thought. I really wished I could do that. Take off the condom, and enter her naturally. Then stroke, stroke, stroke. Enjoy each penetration of her body. Keep fucking her and having lots of fun. In, out, in, out, in, out, until...

Oh shit. What had I been thinking? There was a *reason* why I had been wearing condoms every time we fucked: she wasn't on birth control. If I didn't use a condom, might go too far. I might actually cum inside her hot pussy! That would be horrible! It would be devastating to both of us. Neither of us wanted, nor really liked, kids. I thought for a moment about what our lives might be like if I did happen to cum inside. We'd probably have to get married, and then move in together. We could no longer date anyone else for the rest of our lives. Our lives would be centered around the new baby, and we'd have to decorate (probably) my apartment with girly baby stuff. So long to the movie posters. We'd have to raise the baby, and present it with a satisfactory living environment. We'd be up late at night because the baby would wake up screaming and we'd never get any sleep. We'd have to feed it, clothe it, and tend after it as our first priority forever. And we'd be a heck of a lot poorer than we were even now. Our career ambitions would be shot, and we'd have to settle for run-of-the-mill low-paying jobs to make ends meet.

In short, we'd both be in absolute hell for the rest of our lives.

I snapped back to the current moment, realizing with relief that what I had envisioned was just in my mind, and I was still fucking Shelly hard. With a condom. I smiled at her, and she smiled back, and then I went for my orgasm. I pumped Shelly with vigor and then shot my cum hard into "her" (really the condom), and I enjoyed my wonderful orgasm. It felt great -- but somehow not great enough.

Over the next few days, I felt different. I hung around Shelly, and we laughed and played as usual, but there was something on my mind. I was a bit confused, and I didn't know what was going on. Something had changed, and I wasn't sure what. I started being a little bit detached from Shelly, but not enough for her to notice. I was distracted, and I wasn't sure why. Then one evening Shelly wore a tube top with Daisy Duke shorts and shiny black heels out on a date with me to a club. This was the most revealing -- and the hottest -- outfit that she had ever worn for me. She looked perfect in it because it showed off and accentuated all her thin, long features. Her legs seems to go on forever and you could just make out her ass peeking out of the shorts in the back. Her midsection was completely exposed from the top of her shorts to the bottom of her tube top. This revealed her gorgeous, perfectly flat, tummy for all to see. Like most of the guys at the club, I was entranced by that perfect tummy and her overall thin figure.

That tummy beckoned to me. I don't know why, but I started to imagine that perfect tummy, ever so slowly, starting to puff out. In my mind, first it was a barely noticeable deviation from her perfect form, then it started to increase. The larger it got, the more ridiculous and laughable she looked. Then it got as big as a tennis ball, and she started to look gross. She kept increasing in size, getting fatter and fatter. Once her tummy started looking as big as a beach ball, I started feeling nauseous. She was disgusting -- what was happening to her? Then she was the size of a basketball and it hit me. She was pregnant. Her baby was pushing her out, stretching her out, distorting her body. It was changing her body from that of a hot, sexy girl into that of a tired, unattractive, worn-out mom. It was stretching her out whether she liked it or not. I realized that, if she got pregnant, that perfect belly would be stretched out with no hope for ever returning to the way it was. Her boobs would get super big and would really start to sag in a yucky way. Once she pushed out the fucking baby, it would rip at her and stretch out her cunt, doing major, permanent damage to her fuckhole. She'd gain a serious amount of weight during the pregnancy which she would never lose. And she may even have to have a C-section, scarring her for life.

In short, her body would be ruined forever.

I shook myself and tore my eyes away from her tummy. I felt like I was going to be sick. Shelly noticed and with concern asked, "Hey, everything okay baby?" I paused for a moment and then just nodded my head. But then I told her I had to leave, that I wasn't feeling like clubbing tonight. She just smiled her patented joyous smile and said, "Oh, okay, that's fine. We can go somewhere else." We left the club.

I was a nervous wreck for the next couple of days. I avoided Shelly, trying to come up with a rational explanation for my thoughts. I needed to think. Why had things changed in my mind lately? I considered the possibilities, but in the back of my mind, I knew that I already had the answer. It wasn't that I was stressed out or that I wasn't attracted to Shelly anymore -- far from it. I wanted something more in my sex life with Shelly. I wanted to do more than we had done before. I wanted to push it further. My body wanted -- no, it *needed* -- to have Shelly on an even more intimate level. It needed to feel even more pleasure than it had ever felt before. It needed to feel the most pleasure possible when a man fucks a young girl. It needed to make her pregnant.

I was shocked at this realization, and I tried to put the thought aside. After all, it was stupid and it was suicide. I hated kids and Shelly hated kids. The last thing we should do is go all the way with no protection. But the thought kept creeping back up to me, into the forefront of my mind. I don't know why, but I was becoming obsessed with it. What could I do? I knew, at least, that I didn't want any of the consequences of condomless sex. But I had to have it. I needed it.

Shelly noticed my apprehension the next time I saw her after having dismissed her for a couple of days. She hated seeing anyone upset, especially me. She asked what was wrong. I suppose I had no idea how to even begin to try to explain it to her. But she insisted and pleaded, and so I thought I could try to explain, even though I didn't understand it myself.

"Well," I started, "I've been thinking."

"What about?" Shelly asked.

"I'm not really sure," I sort-of lied, not ready to jump into it.

Shelly walked over and squeezed my hand reassuringly. She gave me a big smile.

"Hey, it's okay, you can tell me anything; you know that. I'm your girlfriend, and I love you!" She offered, still smiling cutely.

My apprehension started to fade, and I spoke up.

"Well, it's about our sex," I admitted.

The smile started to waver on Shelly's face a bit, worrying for the first time that the most important part of a relationship with any man might not be good with hers.

"Okay," she said, "What about it?"

Again, I hesitated. I said, "I guess I haven't been getting as much out of it as I want."

Shelly replied, "Hey, that's okay, we can do whatever you want. Anything. I aim to please!" She reached up to pinch my upper arm, and winked.

I started to say something, but she interrupted.

"Do you want to hit me in bed?" This question wasn't so awkward or surprising, since Shelly and I had casually discussed BSDM sex on several occasions.

"No, no that's not it, Shelly. It's the condoms."

The rest of the smile on her face melted away. "The condoms?"

"Yes, I don't like them," I admitted, although it wasn't the real issue, and I knew it.

She paused for a moment. "But Jim, do you want to pull out instead?"

"No," I replied.

Shelly was calm and reasonable. "But Jim, you know I'm not on the pill. I guess I can start taking it..."

"No, I don't want you to," I stated.

"What??" Shelly was now more surprised than anything else. "Do you want me to get pregnant?"

Ah, the inevitable question. "No, not exactly, Shelly. But yes, my body and my cock wants to do that to you."

Shelly looked distraught. She was again quiet, then a warm smile started to form again. "Well, how about we just pretend? You can cum in the condom, and I'll pretend that you're knocking me up. It will be fun!"

"No, Shelly, that's not what I need."

"Then what..??" She desperately tried to understand.

"Shelly, ever since I first saw you, I've been so attracted to your body. In fact, I didn't even think you'd date me, because you are so tall and slender, and you're quite a rare beauty. Many guys notice you. I've longed to find a girl like you and to make love to over and over again. But not the kind of love that we've been making. I realized that I crave, in fact need, to do something more. I need to fuck you the natural way, no condoms, no pills, nothing. My body needs it. I think about it constantly, and our sex just isn't the same anymore. I need to do it."

Shelly's stare was half-blank, half-aghast.

"I need to cum inside you, Shelly. I want you to spread your long, gorgeous legs for me. My hips need to thrust into you over and over again, as my cock feels increasingly blissful. I need to build up my orgasm, the ultimate orgasm which I deserve to have, and feel so good having that orgasm. I need to play with your sexy body until you are pregnant. I need to inject you with my cum, further sealing your fate with every jet which I allow to enter into your body. I need to see your perfect, thin little body grow fatter and fatter, making you uglier and disgusting. I need to see you have the baby and become something that both of us hate. I need to laugh at you for stupidly getting pregnant and destroying your once perfect body. I need my orgasm to control your body and your life forever."

Shelly was quiet for a few moments, and then whispered, "You're crazy."

She walked out of the room, and then back into it. She paced around the room frantically. "Jim, you know I am your girlfriend and I want to make you happy and I'd bend to your will whenever I can," she began, "but this is madness. One of the reasons that I fell in love with you was because you didn't like or want kids either, like me. At least I thought you didn't want kids. I'm so confused."

"You're right, I don't want kids," I clarified.

"But then -- You still want to do this to me?" Shelly tried to understand, to make some sense out of what she had just heard.

"Yes, Shelly. In fact my body needs to do that to you more than anything else in the world. It needs to fuck you unprotected, and feel the pleasure of making you pregnant. Yes, I don't like or want kids, and I don't like girls who are fat or ugly, or who have kids."

"So what would happen if I did get pregnant then?" she asked.

"I'd leave you before the kid was born," I proclaimed honestly.

At that, Shelly just shook her head and gave a confused scream and walked out of the room.

We didn't see or talk to each other for a few days, but Shelly called me on the phone after she had had some time to digest what I had said.

"Let's forget about what I said," I offered. Shelly agreed; she wanted to stop thinking about it, and try to get back to the way things were before the discussion.

We went to the gym together that day, and then to get some yogurt. I made a lot of jokes to make her laugh, and she smiled and enjoyed my company as before. You could tell there was something on her mind, but we both were trying not to think about it.

Gradually, we returned to sex (with a condom). It was pleasurable, but even less satisfactory than before, for both of us. Shelly clearly was having trouble enjoying herself, despite her desperate attempts to please me and fuck me in whatever position I usually enjoyed. I was having even more frustrating and less fulfilling sex than before, and was having trouble attaining orgasm.

All the while, I could tell Shelly was thinking about the talk, even though she didn't want to. She was trying to get past it and hope that it wouldn't affect her or our relationship. But things that I had said, especially when something in the relationship felt awkward or out of place, kept creeping back into her mind: "..something wrong with our sex.. ..need to do it to you.. ..ultimate orgasm.. ..control your fate.." Like many girls, Shelly, deep down, was very submissive, and wanted to keep her boyfriend happy and satisfied.

Shelly started to think about it. She thought, rationally, that it was most certainly crazy, and it was, from many points of view. In bed, we kept it safe, with condoms, but it continued to eat away at her. Once, I was on top of her, fucking her with my condom-covered cock, her long legs high in the air, her cute feet upturned. She was looking up at me with a horny, loving look. I could tell that it was absolutely killing her not to give me what I need. She told me that I could take the condom off, and fuck her for just a few seconds without it, but then I had to stop. Surprised, I moved out of her, pulled off the condom, and entered into her. We both gasped at the intense pleasure of being bare together, and I started to thrust into her over and over. The seconds were over in a flash, though, she told me to pull out, and I did. My god, it hurt to pull out. I winced at the pain, and unintentionally gave Shelly a dirty look. I walked out of the room, because I knew the moment was lost.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Jim!" Shelly yelled after me, but she didn't follow me. I could hear her sob, and I heard one more "I'm sorry!" coming from my bedroom.

We didn't talk a lot after that incident. We still met and had dinners together, went to the gym, and played a few video games, but our relationship had sadly become more methodical, more superficial. Neither of us seemed to be having as much fun around each other as we once had. We still had (protected) sex, surprisingly enough, but often, neither of us could get off, and the sex seemed fairly belabored.

Shelly found me in my kitchen making a salad one day, and went to the fridge to get some orange juice. She poured her glass, and set the jug down on the counter, not looking at me. She spoke.

"Jim, you know I'd do anything to make you happy and to please you, and I'd die if I ever knew you were miserable about something, especially if it were me," she offered. "But Jim, please don't ask me to do this."

I just looked down at my salad, effectively pretending that I didn't hear what she had said.

"You know that I don't believe in abortion, and I don't like kids. I would hate the baby, Jim. I would hate it so much." She started to sob.

I kept looking down at my salad.

She walked quickly out of the room, tears streaming down her face, and making sobbing noises.

I didn't hear from her for about three weeks after that. Then, a phone call. She said she'd be over to my place that night.

At about 9:00pm, Shelly showed up in a black trench coat. She sported super hot but classy makeup: red lipstick, sparkling earrings, and deep eye shadow. I couldn't see anything else that she was wearing underneath, but her legs were bare and she had on tall, shiny black heels, the same heels that she had worn on a date with me long ago. When I opened my apartment door, she didn't look at me, but looked off to my side as if I weren't there. She walked inside, and headed straight for my bedroom. I followed. When we arrived, Shelly immediately undressed me, pulling my shirt up and over my head, unbuttoned my jeans, and then unzipped them. She then pulled my cock out of my pants, and began to give me one of the most amazing blowjobs I can remember. It felt great. She worked her way all over my most sensitive spots of my cock, making me crazy with desire. She cupped and massaged my balls in her hand. I became super hard, fairly quickly. Then, she stopped, leaving my horny cock standing high, pointing at her. She stood up, still not looking directly at my face, but off to the side. She removed her trench coat.

Shelly was wearing only a matching pair of bra and panties, both dark blue, and the heels. She looked so enticing and sexy. She then walked over to the bed and sat on it, legs crossed and poised. After unlatching her bra, she tossed it aside. She then stood up again, grabbed her panties, and pulled them down over her long legs and heels, onto the floor. Her pussy was completely shaven. She then lay back onto the bed, her hair flowing all about her pretty face. She lifted her knees up and parted them wide, keeping her heels pointed the entire time. She leaned her butt backward a little bit and turned her head to the side, still having never made eye contact with me. Her face was emotionless, unsmiling, and her eyes were wide. I observed that she looked mostly indifferent.

Then, she said, confidently and simply, "I really hope you have lots of fun," and then just lay there, awaiting me.

I didn't hesitate. Shelly had just gotten me ready and made me unbelievably horny, but even then I realized that it was nothing compared to the immense pressure and tension that had built up inside my mind and my body since this incredible desire had begun inside me. Shelly had come to a decision. She had decided to be a good submissive girl and always do what her guy wanted her to do -- no matter what. And deep down, even despite all the talk between us, our desire to have fulfilling careers, our desire to stay away from the burden of kids, and our desire to stay happy, I knew deep down that she had to do this, too, just like I had to do it to her. She needed to be destroyed as much as I needed to destroy her. And it was that epiphany on her part that had led her here, to my apartment, tonight and to do what she had just done.

I climbed on top of her and mounted her, entering her hot, perfect pussy slowly, basking in the pleasure of penetration. Shelly showed no reaction. She still looked off to the side, in a gaze perpendicular to my own. Her eyes were still wide open and her mouth was flat, neither frowning nor smiling. I began to rut her. Her head, and her whole body, moved up and down in time with the "fap, fap, fap" of my pounding at her groin. I can't tell you the magnitude of the pleasure running through me at that time. It was the best sex I had ever had, even though I had just begun my thrusting. I looked down at her entire body. She was absolutely beautiful. Thin, with not a wrinkle, impurity, or fat spot anywhere on her skin. She was the personification of femininity. Her small hands and thin arms weakly lay upturned on the bed, giving in to the will of her man. Her gorgeous eye shadow, lipstick, and earrings made her impossibly perfect. She had painted her fingernails (and presumably her toenails) deep purple. Finally, the fact that she was naked except for her hot, shiny, black heels was impossibly sexy.

My pleasure was increasing. It felt so good to do this to her. I looked over at her face, and it was still looking to the side, emotionless. But for the first time, I noticed tears streaming down her face. I hesitated when I saw that, but I didn't stop. My need was more important than hers, and this fuck was more important than the consequences she would have to endure after it. Shelly knew this -- she knew that my orgasm was ultimately more important than her life. She knew what she was giving up just so that I could feel the extreme pleasure of ruining her. She had succumbed to that realization, but the conflict between that realization and her strong, rational desires to live a free and happy life was killing her. It was tearing her up inside, and she was showing it with her tears. But her will -- the choice to please her man, giving him anything he needs -- was stronger than her fear. She was, at this moment, fiercely strong and stalwart, more so than she had ever been in her entire life. She was making the ultimate venerable sacrifice, the sacrifice of her entire self and her entire life so that I could feel the pleasure, for just a few seconds, of fucking up that life. She was giving more to me than any woman could ever give to a man. I loved her so deeply for that gift.

As I neared the end, I could feel my pleasure increasing beyond anything that I had thought possible. I felt my orgasm coalescing into existence, and I felt my balls starting to tingle. I looked at Shelly again, her torso, her small tits, her arms, her tiny little waist which would not be tiny ever again after this moment, her long legs, her gorgeous long hair, and her pretty face, which was still looking off to the side. She was so young, and so free, except that now she was going to lose most of that freedom. I was going to take it away from her. I felt the cum boiling over in my balls. As my pleasure intensified, I started yelling out and screaming loudly during each thrust into Shelly's tiny body. I was about to cum.

Shelly knew it was imminent, but she remained complacent. Just a few seconds before I finished, she finally turned her head to look at mine, to look deep into my eyes. Her tears were now visible to me, and it made me love her even more, and want to destroy her even more. The look on her face was one of worry and fear, but also one of surprise. It seemed to ask, "Would you really, even now, do this to me, Jim?" But she knew that I would.

As I released the first jet of my sperm into her cunt, I could feel Shelly instantly lose hope for her future. With each new jet, that hope died even more. She was more than complacent now, she was accepting of her fate. But then something happened which I hadn't expected. Shelly started to cum herself. She screamed out loud, rutted up against my gushering cock. I had never before felt her move with so much force and intent underneath me. It was almost as if losing all her hope, and knowing of her impending doom, opened the door inside her to the most erotic and intense orgasm of her life. She was getting off on being ruined, perhaps as much as I was getting off on ruining her. Afterward, I wondered if, unconsciously, Shelly had somehow known that it would feel this good to her, and that was part of what had driven her here tonight as well.

Two months later, on the phone, Shelly reported to me that she was pregnant. She said that she loved me and goodbye, and I told her the same. After that, I didn't hear from her ever again.

I was curious, so after about another year, I asked a few of Shelly's friends about her. Shelly did have the baby instead of aborting it, as I knew she would. She apparently had to have a C-section also, and she had gained a lot of weight during the pregnancy. She had never mentioned who the father was to anyone.

Shelly never came after me for any kind of child support, which I had known she wouldn't.

A couple of years after Shelly gave birth, I ran into another of Shelly's friends, who told me that Shelly had changed a lot since becoming pregnant, as most girls do. She had gained about 35 pounds total, he estimated, and she really didn't look anything like the hot girl she once had been. Her tummy had stretched out a bunch when she was pregnant, and now it was very saggy and had tons of stretch marks and had an ample amount of fat around it. Her son cried all the time, and she seemed to hate tending after it. She spent a lot of her time staring out of a window and sobbing. She never wore makeup or sexy outfits any more, and she rarely went out. I asked the friend how he thought Shelly felt in her life, and he said that he thought she was miserable.

I smiled.

Now, whenever I am dating a petite young girl, and we are in bed, I always think of how I ruined Shelly, and how it felt so good to do so, and my orgasms still feel so much better than they were before. I would never go back to her, but I miss her terribly, and I still love Shelly so much for her perfect gift.