DISCLAIMER:- The following text is sexually explicit and contains depictions of sexual acts that have been classified by the surgeon general as potentially dangerous and unhealthy. You must be a broad minded adult to read the text, and you must not make this text available to minors or to any person who does not wish to view it. Unprotected sexual relations with unknown partners is hazardous and we urge the use of condoms and safe sex at all times.

There comes a time in every woman’s life when comes that fateful moment – to breed or not to breed: that is the question.

I, like many of my contemporaries, was in my late 30s, happily single with the standard number of failed relationships behind me – some live-in, some not. The odds of meeting Mr Right, let alone him actually existing, was on a par with bumping into Father Christmas or the Tooth Fairy in the local supermarket. However, the idea of old age and no-one to bring me the odd hot Sunday lunch or take me to the seaside for a stroll along the prom and a large ice cream was not encouraging, so I made the decision to breed.

Next problem – obviously – was finding a sperm donor …

Now, call me old-fashioned but it seemed to me that part of the idea of getting pregnant was to have bonkbusting sex first. The thought of going to some clinic and a white-coated doctor – possibly female! – doing the deed with what looked like a kitchen implement was not quite the same…

At this point, I had a brainwave. One of my little vices (ok, not so little) is blackjack and I was a regular at a rather smart casino in the centre of the city. My job as a partner in a well-known law firm helped finance my “little habit” and I was careful never to go over my limit. That way, I figured, it hardly counted as a vice at all. The casino was also a good hunting ground and I had had several satisfying shags with other members over the years – some of them even continuing beyond the first night. The more I thought about a father for my child from someone at the casino, the better the idea became. Indeed, I had already spotted a possible victim …. I mean, partner.

I planned everything down to the last detail. A couple of months beforehand, I downloaded an ovulation calendar from the internet and started plotting my fertile times. I changed my diet with a vengeance, ruthlessly cutting out the crap I was prone to eat and started taking vitamins and folic acid. This baby was going to have the BEST start in life. I even cut down on booze and ciggies (ok, ok, yes, I should have cut them OUT but there are limits).

After three months of this regime, I figured enough was enough and it was time to put theory into practice. My calendar told me I would be at my most fertile on 10 June which, conveniently, was a Friday. I decided to take the day off work to prepare.

I spent the morning getting my pubes and legs waxed, my eyebrows plucked, my lashes tinted and my body massaged so my skin was silky soft and smooth all over. In the afternoon, the hairdresser’s beckoned and I had an auburn tint put over my dark brown hair so it would gleam in the subdued lighting of the casino.

Once home, I dressed with care. This was going to be my baby’s first night of life and I wanted to do him or her justice. On went the red brocade basque, pulling in my waist and pushing my full breasts up until they bulged in half-moons over the top. I had bought silk stockings for the first time in my life (I may be a lawyer but that’s no reason to squander money!) and realised why women paid the price for them as I slid them up my satiny calves and up to the tops of my thighs. Looking in the mirror, I could see I looked pretty hot! Straddling my legs a little, I slid a finger down my slit and felt my juices already leaking over my cunt lips. My tits really did look fantastic and as I gently fingered myself, I imagined them full of milk and ready to be suckled by my greedy baby. I rubbed harder and my nipples pushed hard against the unyielding satin. It was painful but in a delicious way and I fingered my hole deeper as I thought about what (hopefully!) would happen
later. Lying back on the bed, I could see my cunt in full view in the mirror, my fingers pushing in and out and in moment I felt my climax build and my cream pouring over my fingers and on to the bed cover as the spasms of orgasm overtook me.

I lay for a few moments recovering from my exertions. I considered washing between my legs before continuing to dress but then thought that if the point was to get laid, the more I smelled of sex, the better.

I finished off the underwear with a matching red brocade thong – devilishly uncomfortable but devilishly alluring! Over the top of it all went a simple black dress – well, if you call low-cut almost to my nipples and split up each side almost to the tops of my thighs simple, anyway! The auburn rinse was already showing in the artificial light in the bedroom and lent a glow to my skin – or was it lust?! Black patent stiletto heels and a little black shawl completed the outfit. I was just checking everything over for the last time when a toot outside signalled the arrival of my taxi and I was off on my baby quest.

Once in the casino, I got my usual G&T and wandered round the tables for a little while, sizing up who was in. I recognised many of the people there including several men who had already had the pleasure of emptying their nuts into my willing pussy. They greeted me as always, with a deep kiss on the mouth and a hand squeezing my arse, one finger pushing between my legs even through my dress. After a few such “hellos”, I was pleasantly lubricated and I could feel the stickiness between my legs.

The blackjack table was only half full, so I took a seat, exchanged a couple of 50s for chips and settled down to play. For half an hour or so, my luck swung backwards and forwards. To be honest, I wasn’t really concentrating – I was too busy looking for the father of my child! Suddenly, I saw him. He was in his habitual place at the roulette table and, from the number of chips he had just bought, looked like he might be here for a while…

Collecting the remainder of my chips and my empty glass, I wandered over to the roulette table. My prey was engrossed and I had the chance to study him unobserved. Older than me, tall, slim and wearing glasses, he looked more like an accountant than a gambler but I had seen him at the tables before and knew he was amazingly successful. A crowd always gathered as he began to play, as if some of his luck would rub off on them. It never did, of course. There is more to luck when playing roulette and I only wished I had the sort of brain which could compute the likelihood of various numbers coming up. I only played blackjack for fun, which given my lack of number skills, was probably just as well.

Just then, a ripple went round the table and I snapped out of my reverie. He had just won three grand on one spin of the wheel. Well, I thought, I do want a successful man to father my child! I grabbed another G&T (casino-strength, of course – at least a triple) and worked my way round the table until I was next to him. As he lent over to place his next bet, I leant over too, to place my chips, so when he straightened up, he knocked into me. My gin splashed down over my nicely-displayed tits and I let out a little cry of dismay.

“Oh god, sorry”, he said, pulling back in alarm.

I will confess, I simpered a little.

“No problem,” I said, sweetly “but do you have a handkerchief by any chance?” I indicated the swelling mounds which my dress displayed so well, which were now distinctly damp.

“Oh, of course” said my unsuspecting target. Amazingly, he actually had a real cotton handkerchief in his pocket! I didn’t realise they still made them! Taking the handkerchief, I made a fairly poor job of mopping my tits one-handed and then had the bright idea of asking him to hold my glass. Poor man, he had no chance. The table was forgotten as I happily ran the soft cloth over the top of my tits and then slid it underneath the edge of my basque and down round my nipples. Rather carelessly, I managed to pull my top down far enough to show my teats in all their ruddy, erect glory. Even the croupier was mesmerized by the show I was putting on. My breasts are 36DD and still very firm. Every man there looked like he would like to be my surrogate child and feed on them right there and then. I looked round the table and saw hungry eyes on my body. Several of them sported health-looking bulges in their pants and my cunt acknowledged them by releasing a rush of cream int
o my panties.

I smiled graciously round them all and then turned back to my assailant/benefactor and handed back his handkerchief.

“Thank you so much”, I cooed. “I do so hate being sticky, don’t you?”

His dark eyes flashed in amusement as he took the handkerchief from me.

“Absolutely”, he replied, “Especially when I can’t wipe it all away”.

With that, he leant over and dabbed at where my breast dipped into my dress. “I think you missed a bit”, he smiled, and with that he slid one finger down inside my top and stroked the erect nipple hiding there. I gasped. I felt an electric shock go direct from my nipple to my cunt, which again creamed in response. I must surely be ovulating, I thought, because I’ve never been this turned on with so little contact before.

“I … er ….thank you”, I stuttered. God, even my powers of speech were going! Certainly my legs were a little wobbly and not entirely because of the triple gins! “I’ll …um ….just go and clean up a little”, I said, gesturing towards the cloakrooms.

As I made my way across the thick carpet, I heard play resume behind me. Phew, I certainly needed a moment to compose myself before continuing with my plan. This guy was even better close up and he clearly had a deliciously sexy sense of humour. He also didn’t appear to be gay which, these days, was definitely a plus. Not that I am remotely homophobic, you understand – indeed, some of my closest friends are homosexual – but it’s a definite drawback if a girl’s trying to get knocked up!

I was just pushing open the door to the ladies loos when I was aware of someone behind me. Before I could turn round, I felt a hand on my bottom and an amused voice in my ear whispered: “So, want to continue where we left off?”

With that, I felt myself propelled into the room and spun round into the arms of my prey … or was he the hunter? Holding my head between his hands, his mouth plunged on to mine and he frenched me till I thought my lips would bleed. God, it was wonderful! I love a man who kisses hard and dry. As he plundered my mouth, one hand tugged at the hem of my dress and pulled it up. As he felt the bare flesh at the top of my stockings, he groaned. Breaking the kiss, he pulled back and looked down. The skin at the top of the black silk gleamed pearlescent in the soft light and a dark patch in the red brocade of my thong showed my desire. I ran my hands over his back and down over his buttocks. They were firm and hard and I ran my hand down into the cleft between them, which elicited another groan.

Frantically, he pushed me into one of the cubicles which, it being a rather smart casino, were somewhat bigger than average. I pushed him down on to the closed lid of the toilet and looked down at him. His eyes were half-closed with lust as I stood before him. Pushing my dress back up, he pushed his face into my crotch and breathed deeply.

“God, you smell gorgeous”, he whispered. His hands went round the back and, pulling my panties down, he began massaging my ass cheeks whilst his tongue dove into my snatch and got to work on my button. My head was swimming as his evidently practised tongue played a symphony on my clit. As I leant further over him, he slipped a finger between my ass cheeks and ran it round my secret hole for a moment before pushing it inside. I love having my ass fingered at the best of times and this guy was a master! I heard other women come in and out of the cloakroom but took no notice. Frankly, they could have put CCTV in there with us and I wouldn’t have cared!

As my man came up for air, I leaned back and pulled the top of my dress down so I could free my tits from their prison. Having been teased earlier and then enjoyed, albeit at a distance, the attention my clit and cunt had just received, they were well-engorged, the veins standing prominently and the nipples hard and red. Sitting on top of the basque, they were served up on a platter and I soon found that the tongue which had served my groin so well was equally good at suckling tit. My head swam with sensation after sensation until my knees started to buckle.

“Let me see you”, I whispered, as I sank to the floor in front of him.

Leaning back, he undid his belt and then my fingers were there, opening his fly and freeing up what I can only describe as a monster cock. Not only long but thick, his fleshy rod stood out proudly from his body. Thick, dark hair clustered round the base and I could only catch a glimpse of a swollen, reddish sac between his thighs.

“Stand up”, I hissed urgently. He obeyed instantly and I tugged his trousers and underwear down round his knees. His balls hung nicely at mouth height now and I lost no time in pushing my head between his legs and taking first one and then the other heavy plum into my mouth. I could hear his ragged breathing as I paid his balls the homage they deserved before letting him sit back down and turning my attention to his rampant cock.

Now, I have to confess to having been around the block once or twice and enjoyed many specimens of manhood over the years. However, I can honestly say I have never seen, smelt or tasted a finer cock in my 20-odd years of sexual activity. Rock hard, heavily veined and with a fine, purple bell end, this was definitely the weapon I needed to fertilise my aching womb and fill it with child. It was already leaking pre-cum and its owner was breathing hard as his eyes gazed lustfully at my almost-stripped body.

“Do you want me, babe?”, I crooned. “Do you want to put that monster manhood in my creamy cunthole and fuck me til your nuts can’t empty themselves any more?”

A deep groan, accompanied by a broad smile were my only response.

Standing up, I straddled that beautiful babymaker and slowly lowered myself. As I felt the tip meet the entrance to my cunt, I put my arms round his neck and, leaning forward, gave him the deepest French kiss of his life. As my tongue probed the back of his throat, I let myself squat further on to his prick until its whole, fat length was fitted up inside me like we were made for each other. I could feel my thighs on his and feel his pubic hair scratching at my newly-waxed mound. As I pumped slowly up and down, I pulled his mouth to my teat and told him to suck hard, as if he were taking mommy milk from me. He needed no second bidding and tugged and pulled at my nipples until it became a mixture of pain and pleasure.

By now, we were making unmistakable noises and I heard a couple of women come into the cloakroom and then pause as they heard us. An explosion of giggles erupted outside the cubicle door and then I heard a very well-modulated voice urge us in the language of the gutter to enjoy ourselves and for him to knock me up. He needed no encouragement to fill my womb with his potent, babymaking seed, even though he could hardly know that was my plan and for my part I have never felt so complete, so womanly, in my entire life. Everything in me was concentrated on being fucked strong and hard and in conceiving my child. Tingles in my breasts were echoed in my cunt and womb as his cock plundered my body. We grunted and rutted like animals until the inevitable happened and I felt my orgasm start right down at my toes.

“I cumming”, I grunted, pushing myself up and down on his beautiful prick harder and harder.

“Me ….too …..” he groaned.

Holding my hips firmly, he held me in place as his balls erupted. It was like Niagara and the 4th of July all in the same place. His spunk was hot and fertile and it blasted up my cunt, over my cervix and into my waiting baby factory over and over again. Never in my life had I felt such a geyser going off in me and it triggered the most explosive orgasm I have ever had. My womb spasmed, my cervix scooping up all the baby-making cream it could find and sending it to seek the ripe ovum waiting for it.

As our orgasms subsided, I lifted myself carefully off his prick, which was still long and fat, although not so hard now! It glistened with our combined juices and I couldn’t resist kneeling down and licking it clean. Like any alpha male, he sat back with a lazy, satisfied smile and watched me working over him until he was clean and dry again. I didn’t begrudge him. I had had the most satisfying fuck of my life and I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that his seed would take root in my fertile belly and I would give birth to a strong healthy baby in nine months time.

Our clothing back in place, we snuck back out of the cloakroom. No-one took any notice of us, even though my hair was somewhat disordered and I had a rosy love bite on one mounded breast. Putting my lips close to his ear, I whispered my thanks and my goodnight to my gambling stud. I wanted to get home to bed to make sure his sperm did their job properly.

Well, they certainly did. Before I missed my next period, my breasts were already slightly swollen and my nipples tender. I bought a pregnancy testing kit on the way home from work and could barely wait to try it out. I stripped naked before going into the bathroom and peeing on the little stick. It was such a turn-on to be actually doing a test that I filled in the waiting time by masturbating hard in front of the bathroom mirror. My swollen tits jiggled with the spasms of my orgasm and the nipples sprang out nearly an inch as my climax pulsed through my body. I was not at all surprised to look back at the test stick and see the thick blue line confirming that I was indeed pregnant.

Over the next few months, I watched the changes in my body with fascination. Until nearly four months passed, the only external sign was my breasts getting larger and larger. Naked, I could see the deep blue veins leading to my nipples. The areolas became darker and wider and the teats themselves grew longer. Whenever I masturbated, I pulled and tugged at the nipples to ready them for a hungry mouth in a few months time.

Around the fourth month, my belly became obviously rounder and I could no longer hide my condition from my friends and colleagues. They were intrigued to know how I had “let” myself get in this condition but I wasn’t going to explain. I was hornier than ever and, surprisingly, found that my condition, far from being a turn-off, actually attracted men, although I didn’t go back to the casino. I had enough names in my little black book to ensure that when the urge to fuck got too great, I could have my pick of cock to service my baby hole even though, towards the end, we could only do it doggy style because of the size of my bulge.

The nine months soon passed and before I knew it, I was in the delivery room, naked from the waist down, my legs spread apart and pushing my baby out into the world. A final push and a scream and my son saw the light of day for the first time. As he was put on to my tummy, he turned his head instantly to my fat, milk-laden breast and seized the nipple hard to take sustenance from me. From the way he suckled, I knew he had inherited at least some of his father’s genes and when I looked down between his legs, I knew he had been blessed with others as well.

I never did tell my casino stud he was a father but then, it would have been rather difficult – I never asked his name, either.