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.

I married Jennifer after 25 years of being apart. We had quite a bit of history between us. My father had married her aunt, which made us step-cousins. We had met when were young, she 15 and I was 18. I saw her at a family party in London and I knew she was for me. I am 6’4” and reasonable looking for an American. We were in love form the moment we met, but her father would have none of it and successfully drove us apart. We had tried to meet when I was in the Navy, but difficulties in schedules (school for her and Shore leave for me) reduced out meeting to limited phone contact. She lived in England and I in the U.S. so life seemed determined to keep us apart. I got into real estate and grew wealthy buying and selling commercial buildings while I heard she married some guy with 30 titles. The time passed and we did not see each other for 25 years. When I met her again at a family reunion I was thunderstruck! It was not that she was so beautiful, but her sexuality struck me to my soul. She was single again and we both could feel the love between us. I moved her into my house near Seattle and married her the following year.

Her figure was breathtaking at 5’3 and 120 pounds. At 40 she had a waist I could span with two hands. She walked with a grace and style and sway that modern girls have given up on. Her fine, thick chestnut hair drooped past her shoulders in a warm cascade and her eyes were dark amber. Guys would start to talk to her and when they realized her eyes were such a strange colour, they would find themselves drowning in them.

That was when they were not looking at her breasts…

Her heavy 32 E’s were always drawing the eyes of men as she walked. She tried to hide them using minimizing bras, but nature would have none of it. It did not help that she had the finest, softest, most translucent skin on earth, so that these beautiful huge mounds were clothed in the most velvety coating imaginable. Merely shaking her hand would start most men on the road to an erection. The soft skin of her hand would suddenly startle them, they would peer into her eyes and suddenly find themselves drowning in their dusky fire, then the sudden awareness of her breasts would strike, the SIZE of them, the WEIGHT of them in a simple summer dress. Instantly the primitive part of their brain would put all these factors together and the fantasies would start. Pressing those beasts together, having their cock between them, staring into her eyes as they are cumming, etc.

I know of at least 5 friends of mine who were masturbating within 6 mins of meeting her. They all said they would flush red in the face, excuse themselves from the party or where ever they had met her, run to the restroom and jerk themselves off just to get the fantasy of her out of their heads.

She had a sweetheart of a daughter from a failed marriage (age 2) when I saw her again and I was determined to get her to have at least two more. Of course she only wanted one, leading to one of our few arguments. She had to have her children caesarian, so her pussy was as tight as she had been at 15, but she was afraid I would leave her if her figure lost any of its curve from childbearing (This was left over mental baggage from the gay bastard who was the previous husband). One was all she would have for me. “Besides” she said, “I am turning 41 soon, so I probably won’t have time to have more than one.”

I just smiled.

Starting the first was pure pleasure. There are few experiences in this world as fine as topping the woman you love, stroking her to the point where she is sweating from a major orgasm, positioning your cockhead so that it is pressed right in the cervical opening of her womb, and letting go. I mean shouting her name as you send bolt after bolt of hot white seed right into the oven, screaming as you pump the juice into the chamber. I had timed it perfectly, as that baby batter started her swelling in a couple months. When she reached the stage that she could not take me missionary, I began to give her a serious education on how a man can please a woman with tongue, fingers, and prick, something unknown in her conservative English experience. I found myself being worshipped both in and out of the bedroom.

Alex was born and 6 weeks later the Doc said sex was safe again. Condoms was her choice for me as she did not want to take hormones herself while she nursed Alex. I had a different suggestion.

“I hear a vasectomy is very reliable.” I chatted to her in my poor imitation of an English accent, “Just the thing.”

So I made an appointment with a 50 year old Doc I had sold a Condo to a few years back. He made a bundle on the deal and married a 23 year old who was turning out the babies for him like clockwork. His goal was to have a least 11 little crumb chrunchers.

“Doc, I want at least two kids with her but I can’t get her over this stupid idea that I am going to leave her after that blueblood fag dumped her.” I said, “I want a non-vasectomy vasectomy. I want this American’s equipment to remain Operational!”

We went back and forth about it and he finally agreed that he would start the operation, I would “protest” the invasive medical procedure and he would be forced to close the incision; all without gelding me, of course. I signed extra this and that releasing liability and everything went fine. I went home with my “war wound” to my loving wife and my weapon loaded with real ammo.

The next six weeks were heaven. For three weeks she would gently suck me off because of the “pain” and to help “clear” me of any sperm that was still in the system as recommended by the Doctor. I smiled a lot and watched her cycle. After three weeks we were back to full missionary sex, with me sawing her clit with my big American cock and sending shocks through her soft, beautiful body as her tight muscular pussy massaged the cum out of me. Three days before she was scheduled to ovulate, I left to visit a friend in Oregon for the weekend and built up an extra flotilla of wigglers.

The day I returned I suggested dinner at the restaurant where I had asked Jennifer to marry me. Jennifer blushed, flashed her smoky eyes at me and agreed. My parents had said they would baby-sit the little ones for 24 hours and I had already made reservations a week earlier so we got the same table where I had proposed. It was a perfect Indian Fall evening in the Northwest, clear and warm and smelling of leaves. I held her hand over dinner and told her truthfully how happy I was and how much she meant to me. Two “cost is no object” bottles of fine wine completed the scene. (Hey, if you are going to give expensive presents, why not get to share in them?) By the time the check arrived she was melting into the chair. Her eyes were dark fire and her lips were flushed. When we stood and kissed lightly Jennifer subtly pressed her mons against my leg and her breasts against my chest and pulled my head down to whisper into my ear that she “had to have me”.

Oh Yes…

The drive back home was a passionate delight, with her asking me to stop several times just to kiss. By the time we reached the house I was aching for release. Jennifer went upstairs first and I locked up the house. When I went into our bedroom she attacked me, jumping into my arms and kissing me wildly. She had shed her clothes except for a lacy thing I really didn’t have time or inclination to examine closely. Like a child with a new Christmas toy, I wanted the wrapper off NOW!

I made my way from her lips to her neck and drank in her perfume. I was nearly out of my mind and let my passion take over. Kisses rained on her neck, lips and heavy breasts as my hand massaged her clit. Never had I every felt a woman so wet or needful. Each touch brought little noises from her, little cries and moans. Jennifer suddenly rolled on top of me and grabbed my lodge pole in her hand, guiding me into her muscular depths with a single smooth motion. She then began to ride me wildly, dragging her hair over my face and her breasts over my chest. Her perfume became a hot cloud in which I could hardly breathe. I felt like my head was going to explode. Wanting to put my seed where it would do the most good I rolled her over and took charge. I had not slipped out as we turned over and I began to earnestly pound away. As she approached orgasm I purposely slowed down each stroke, delaying and magnifying her orgasm. Her breathing was now in harsh pants and I could tell she was seconds from climaxing when I released my control and began the harsh final pounding as, balls boiling, I grabbed her hair with one hand, one of her ass cheeks in the other and buried my face into her neck. Suddenly, for the first time in my life and in time with my thrusts, I heard my conservative English wife, the Lady Jennifer Longmire Batten Truscot, daughter of the First Earl of Hamtonshire, yelling in orgasm!

OHHHH! OOhHHH! OOOHHHHH! OOOOHHHHHAAAH! UUUUNNNHHHH!

With my cockhead mashed against the hole in her womb I began to pump an extra big charge of sperm directly into her womb. Nine or ten full hard contractions, with her pussy milking me in harmony, shocked through my body. It was as though we were one person, combined and climaxing in harmony. Wet with perspiration and slick with juices, we fell asleep still merged below the waist.

Three weeks later she was throwing up and couldn’t figure out why. A quick office visit confirmed that we were going to be parents. I used the excuse that we had not waited long enough after the operation and provided some Medical articles proving that it could happen, even if the odds were millions to one.

Then I called the restaurant and booked our table for a little over nine months from now. Hopefully I can think up a new excuse for the next baby.