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.

Author's note: The plot for this story is taken directly from a submission on the "True Life Stories" page of Impregnorium.net; credit must go to Ann Breeze for the original concept and "characters." I liked the story so much that I decided to clean up some of the mechanics, add some back-story, description, and denouement, and submit it as a fictional piece.

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After my sophomore year in college, I felt as though I were coasting through a decent, but uneventful life. I had spent a lot of time on my schoolwork, and managed to escape with pretty good grades. Sure, I dated a few guys here and there, but I never felt particularly passionate about any of them. My parents kept pressuring me to join more campus activities because "you need to fill up that resume, Ann," but I couldn't pretend to be interested about dorm government or saving endangered beetles.

That summer, I worked until 8 PM a few nights a week at a coffeehouse. I thought it might be a chance to meet some eclectic, interesting people, but it turned out that most of the clientele fell into two categories: men who weren't interested in me enough, and women who were a little too interested in me, if you catch my meaning. The coffeehouse was in an old downtown building with poor air conditioning and due to that summer's record heat, I would almost always be drenched in sweat by the time my shift ended. So, to cool down and to get some exercise in, I started swimming laps at the city pool until it closed at 9:30.

The pool was generally deserted at that time of night, and I noticed that four nights out of five, the same lifeguard shut the pool down. He was in my class at school and we were going to the same college, so I knew him a little. At least his name (Dan) if nothing else. He was a champion swimmer with a great body, thoroughly tanned and sculpted by his training and time at the gym. Did I mention he had abs to kill for? After gazing at that body for just one night, I abandoned my bland, utilitarian black one-piece, and from then on always wore a bikini to attract him. I'm not exactly catwalk material; in case you all wanted to know, I have mid-length strawberry blonde hair, brown eyes, wear size 10, and sport numbers in the 34-28-32 range. (Bra size? Please, most of you guys out there reading this probably don't know anything about how that works, you just wank harder as the letters get higher!) Still, it worked; obviously, he couldn't help but notice the only person swi mming in his pool, but I silently teased him while pretending to be there just for the exercise. After a week of these coy games, he asked me out--for coffee of all things. I think he knew where I worked, and wanted to be just a little bit of an ass about it. Oh well. We talked about school, music, swimming, camping, and what we "wanted to do with our lives." Apparently, we were in the same boat, enrolled in the business college, hoping to find some well-salaried office job amidst the recession, buy a house in the suburbs, find time for a family, and all that other jazz. He also said he was actually more attracted to me because I -didn't- have that "catwalk body"; according to him, girls like that were too boring and high maintenance. It was fun a fun date.

I wasn't sure what he'd do at the end of the date, but we wound up sharing a soft, gentle kiss good night. Just as I thought he would pull away and say a perfunctory farewell, he wrapped his strong right arm around me and pushed his tongue into my mouth. I was surprised, but for the first time in what felt like years, I felt a profound passion somewhere in my chest, an inexplicable feeling that what we were doing was "right" on some subconscious level. We kissed like that for about a minute, but it got no further. That was fine with me, I was just happy that we wouldn't have to go through the motions of setting a second date or agonizing "when to call," because I knew precisely where and when I'd see him again.

The next night he again asked me to go out (for the life of me, to this day I can't remember where to), but said he needed help cleaning up. As it was the end of June, the evening twilight was just barely setting in when the pool hours ended. I showered and put some of my hair in a thick braid, and then went to meet Dan. I walked into the door of the towel room calling his name. When he saw me standing there in my light purple bikini, water still dripping from my hair, he brought me close to him and kissed me hard, his tongue straining toward the depths of my throat. Without saying a word, without ceasing to kiss me, he moved me like a light doll to the other side of the room. He then cupped my right breast hard and pushed me back on a pile of used towels. The towels and some of the equipment he had just put away got scattered all over the place, but it didn't matter one bit. I was afraid, but God I wanted him. He yanked off my top, flinging it into some dark recess of the room, and then lowered his trunks, revealing his four-star ass and toned
thighs, along with the main prize of course. He was hard and thick, exactly as I knew he would be from watching him watching me as I swam and made sexy poses. He said, "Ann, tell me you want it."

"Dan I want you. Give it to me." He slowly drew my bottoms down, taking the opportunity to run his hands over my ass and my long legs. I felt chills down my spine as he massaged the region behind my kneecap. He began licking my pussy, then sucking my clit as he stuck two fingers in my cunt. Just as quickly as this whole thing began, my pussy was lit ablaze, and before I knew what was happening, my toes were curling and my entire being was tensing up for an orgasm. Just after I came, he rammed his cock in for two or three strokes until he hit my cervix. I had never had that happen with the other guys, and while it hurt, I don't think there's a better pain out there. He kept his prick there, all the while kissing my face and my breasts, and playing with my ever-so-damp hair. This got me raging hot once more, so he started moving his cock again, and went slow till I came again. While I was cumming like mad, he began long strokes, pounding me again the towels and the ceme nt floor below until he gushed about nine hard lines of cum. At that point, I came a third time with him, feeling his juice in me, in spite of those that say women can't feel it.

We stepped out into the cooler night air and swam together naked. With the aid of some splashing and teasing, he got hard again and we got out. He put his cock in me at the side of the pool, but did not thrust at all. Instead, he lifted me up, with his cock hard in me and carried me back (such strength!) to the cum-soaked towels where he turned me over and fucked me doggy-style. I was so into it, and so turned on by tasting our juices on the towels as his shaft drilled me against them.

At the end, around 2 AM, he said "You're on the Pill, aren't you?" It was true, I had gone on it while I was with my ex and stayed on it to regulate my cycles and "just in case." I said, "Yes I am, and thank goodness because we didn't use a rubber." He told me "It may be soon, but Ann, I love you." True enough, it was "soon," but for some reason this didn't freak me out like it would have from the mouth of an immature high school boy. He continued, "I know you love me too, because words aren't the only way to tell someone how you feel." It really was so short a time, but I did. He told me to stop the pill and not to come back for two weeks; he wanted to make a baby with me.

"Don't ask questions. If you love me, do it." I didn't say anything in response out of pure shock, but nonetheless, my mind was made up the instant he told me. That same night, I flushed my next month's supply of pills down the toilet, and threw away the condoms I kept in my purse so that there would be no second-guessing or turning back. In this day and age, sane people would think our actions crazy, but something just clicked at a primal level within me, and it seemed like the most natural choice in the world. It must have been all the sex, because I felt my cycle restart and began getting real horny as the second week dragged on.

After the agonizing two weeks were up, I came back to the pool right at closing time. Once more, I stood in the doorway calling his name, and he answered, "Ann, do you love me?" I just nodded my head, and we exchanged not a single word after that, nothing about college, careers, marriage, what our parents would say, the future . . .none of it mattered at all. He fucked me over and over in the towel room, leaving me sore and soaring from countless orgasms. It turns out he had saved up his sperm for the last two weeks, and flooded my cunt with an immeasurable amount of his warm, sticky, life-producing cum. The next morning, he told me between powerful strokes that he'd take some days off, and that I should do the same. We rented a motel room and didn't leave it
for seventy-two hours. His energy and stamina were unbelievable, and his supply of sperm seemed unending. There was no way in hell I wasn't going to be pregged up after that, and just to make sure, he produced a diaphragm on the last day and put it in me to hold all the cum in. I couldn't walk from his thickness splitting me, from his repeated poundings. For the next day, I stayed in bed recovering, with my hips propped on a pillow to make sure his life-creating fluid would seep in as far as possible. I missed my period. Not a surprise as we fucked so much that I could hear his cum, held in by the contraceptive device, squishing in me whenever I tried to walk.
We went to our parents and told them. When they screamed at our carelessness, we told them it was planned, even if not very much in advance. They agreed to our living together at college and supporting us. He was just as great fucking my ass when I got too big and I found Dan loves to be breast-fed. We had a great year with a healthy nine-pound baby boy. Both of us are near the top of our class, despite what they say about pregnancy being a "life-ruiner." I don't want to moralize, but maybe all this emphasis on power, money, and status has drawn us away from some of our basic functions as men and women, as human beings: to reproduce and enjoy doing it.

After I gave birth, I asked him for the first time what had possessed him to want to make a baby with me, since most people in our stage of life avoid doing so. He said that he was bored of meeting drunk girls in bars, spitting lines, and trying to hook up--bored of the whole dating scene. He wanted to find a girl he could connect with on a personality level, and just bypass all the complications and settle down with her. Dan said he could tell that I was bored in the same way from our coffee date, so he decided to take a gamble. It certainly was a risk, and the pregnancy and childbirth weren't a cakewalk. It all could have ended disastrously, but we went before a judge this June and are now man (God what a man) and wife. Society may not think it ideal to be married and parenting at the age of twenty, it's fine by me; with my new life with Dan and little Michael, I have finally found something I can care and feel passion for.

We're holding off on more kids while we finish up our last year of school, but I'm sure it won't be too long before he is again blasting me with his fertile sperm and making my belly delightfully large. I can scarcely wait.

[lthough this is a "remake," it is my first erotic story--feedback welcome at zalis2@yahoo.com