AN EROTIC STORY HOSTED BY IMPREGNORIUM.NET

STORY TITLE	The Surrogate
AUTHOR	Christie
CODES	MF, impregnation, bond, etc
DATE ADDED	14th May, 2005
AUTHOR EMAIL	csw1980uk@yahoo.co.uk

Inspired by an idea posted by Alicia on Impregnorium.net.

Disclaimer: This is a fantasy. Duh.

* * *

It was the transmission that finally sent things over the edge. You see, I had graduated school with honors in anthropology and thought that the world would naturally beat a path to my door to recruit me as a teacher somewhere. I thought that I’d have my pick of schools and universities to work at and it just didn’t happen that way.
It was my misfortune to graduate an anthropologist when the new party in control of Congress specifically cut the funding for every anthropology program in America. Not only was no one asking me to work for them, my applications were not even being answered. Hard sciences were the answer to Chinese and Indian market pressures and no one cared a damn about anthropology except Jane Goodall and then no one cared a damn about her, either.
My first school loan payment was due sixty days after my sheepskin was in my hand and then there was rent and the other bills. I made do as a substitute teacher but without a hard science background I knew there’d be no tenure in my future. The night job I took at a hamburger place helped me bridge the gap between too many bills and too little income and I went on for a good year with my financial balancing act working out pretty well.

And then the transmission blew out on my old Volvo.

It really wasn’t that expensive to fix at $895.00 but it was enough to make my financial house of cards flutter to pieces. In short order I fell behind to the tune of almost two thousand dollars.

So there came a morning a couple months later when I went to get a fancy coffee (which I knew I could not afford) and I sat there at the coffee place with my latte and picked up one of those free newspapers that always seems so riotously left-wing. I picked through the amazingly detailed arts & music section, skipped the 1960’s politics in the editorial section, and found myself perusing the help wanted ads. And there it was:

“Be an Angel! Donate your eggs to an infertile couple and be compensated $5,000 for your trouble!”

I had no idea what the hell I was getting into but I ended up calling when I got home and the next thing I knew I was getting screened for egg donation. I’m not kidding that it was the ‘next thing’ because I called at 11am and they saw me at 1pm.
The screening included asking my age (24), blood tests, questions about my parents and grandparents, whether or not I was really a blonde (I am), questions about my sexual history which were easy as “not much” was my answer for almost all of the sex questions, and then the financial questions and a pile of IQ questions to establish if I was a dolt or not. When the check with my name on it for an advance of $2,000 came out I assumed I rated ‘not a dolt’.

I had to submit for some injections after signing the paperwork and then there were some pills I had to take. Not bad, really. And then I’d be back after my next period to ‘harvest’ my eggs. And I’d also harvest another $3,000 bucks.

The $2,000 put my financial house almost back in order for the time being and I breathed a sigh of relief when the collection agency stopped calling. My substitute teaching was on track and the hamburger job had pushed me up to supervisor and the raise gave me another bag of groceries each week.
And then a whole month had gone by and it was harvest time. Well, that isn’t exactly accurate. A month of me being sick to my stomach almost constantly from the hormones went by and I welcomed the end of it all. And the $3,000 check had already been spent in my mind.
I showed up for the hCG injection and about puked my guts out on the way home. I took a day off from both jobs and embraced my toilet for the rest of the day. The next morning I headed to the clinic and they wasted no time sedating me and getting me on the table. I know they’d explained this part to me several times, but I couldn’t help but freak out, just a little, when they started inserting things inside my relatively low-mileage pussy.
“Calm down, it’ll be over soon.” Said the anesthesiologist right before she gave me another little jolt of sedation. I felt the warmth of the narcotic in my body and the glow just took over. And then world faded away.

It was a couple of hours later when the clinic limousine dropped me off at my apartment and the driver helped me to my door. Just before she went to leave she set the envelope with my check in it on my kitchen counter and said goodbye before closing the door behind her. Settling down onto my sofa I let the drugs embrace me again and I slipped off into a nice sleep.
Saturday morning found me rested and just a little sore down there, as I’d been told to expect. I put on my coffee for the first time in a month and, not feeling nauseous for a change, set about making a decent breakfast. I’d gotten comfy and enjoyed some mindless show on cable as I munched away on my scrambled eggs and then recalled my check. I decided that it would wait and went on to finish my eggs and my first cup of coffee. But on the way to my second cup I found myself wanting to see the check.

It made me sick all over again.

Sure, they’d paid me three thousand bucks as they said they would. But I’d forgotten taxes. And I was getting nailed. The gross amount of my check was $3,100 less the $2,000 advance so (and I checked it a few times) that made this check $1,100 instead of the $3,000 I’d been planning on.

Fucking taxes!

Needles to say, my weekend was pretty much ruined from there. Sure, I had enough money to get out of the hole I was currently in, but what about the next hole?

I was basically miserable the whole weekend as I realized what I was going to do next.

And on Monday morning in the faculty lounge I called up the clinic to ‘volunteer’ for another donation effort.

“Um, Amber, we’re so sorry to tell you this, but we only allow one donation per year”, was what I heard.

I blathered on and on to the receptionist about how I needed the money and she was pretty patient. After letting me cry for a bit she interrupted my next beg-a-thon.

“We do have something very special you might be interested in.”

“Yeah?” I said, wiping a tear away with the new hope.

“I’ll talk to the lawyers and see if you’ll meet the approval of the client and then have them call you if you want. It might be a while before they call you.”

A glimmer of hope is better than no hope.

“Yes! Oh, thank you! Please do have them call me!”

And that was followed by the usual platitudes of gratitude and the receptionist let me go. My routine of teaching brats during the day and then serving the little bastards hamburgers at night went back to normal and I gradually forgot about the offer of something else from the clinic. Frankly, I kind of just figured the receptionist was shining me on just as a graceful way to get a crying fool off of her phone. It was the end of that week when I began to feel completely normal again and I decided to just accept my lot in life and if that included a bankruptcy, then so be it. I wasn’t going to do any more donations for $3,100.

So a few months go by and one night I’m watching “CSI-Miami” (David Caruso, rowrrrrr!!!) and the phone rings.

“Is this Amber Swenson?” said a clearly businesslike male voice.

“You dialed the fucking number, who did you expect to answer?” He didn’t realize that you do NOT interrupt me when I’m watching Mr. Caruso.

“Uh, yeah. Anyhow. The clinic matched you with one of our special clients and we’d like you in here at our office tomorrow to discuss terms. Be here at ten and do not be late. The address is 9000 Sunset Strip, suite 1400.”

And then he hung up before I could tell him to go fuck himself.
The next morning I found myself staring at the brats and watching the clock start my day. The first bell came and I began to think about traffic and how I’d make the Sunset by nine if I left now. Over the next hour I adjusted my estimate to account for the ending rush hour and at 9:15 I called the office.

“I’m sick. I have to go NOW!!!!”

The principal was there in a few moments and empathetically saw me to my car. As soon as the school had faded in my mirror I was heading for the freeway at freeway speeds. It was unusually light on the 405 and I made Sunset ten minutes faster than I’d expected. Not long after I pulled into the parking lot of the big office tower and then made my way in. The lobby was not your typical California office. It had those extra touches that made you realize a designer had been here. The place reeked of understated opulence. It reeked of money and the people who knew how to use it.
The elevator was unusually quiet and when it opened onto the 14th floor I realized it also opened onto the only office on the floor. Let me rephrase that, the law office occupied the whole floor. Whoever these people were they weren’t playing and they had the money to be as serious as a heart attack. I summoned my confidence and then walked up to the receptionist who looked up at me very sternly.

“Amber, right?”

She was expecting me. I nodded ‘yes’.

“You’re late. You were told not to be late.”

Crap.

“I did the best I could getting here from my other j…”

She held up a hand to shush me.

“Save it for someone who cares, okay? Go down the hall to your left. At the end is a conference room. Go in there and take a seat and the senior partners will be in to see you shortly.”

I hesitated for a moment as I got my bearings.

“NOW would be a good time for you to go.”

What a bitch! Of course, I didn’t say anything and just shut up and headed on down the hallway. I passed office after office with amazing desks, state of the art computers, and each office seemed to be just the receiving room for an even more important office beyond the doors that were each guarded by more bitchy looking receptionists. Well, except the one gay guy. He didn’t look bitchy but the rest of them sure did.
I found the conference room and set my things down on a chair and then walked to the window to enjoy the view. It was one of those rare spring days in LA when you could actually see things like the mountains and the view was really breathtaking. The action on the street below was captivating and I found myself caught up in staring at the people walking around and driving as if I was a little kid staring at ants from way up on high.

My reverie was interrupted when the two big doors of the room swung open and this mass of talking suits swept into the room and began to occupy the seats around the table. There were cell phones going and laptops clicking away and non-stop high-stress chatter about motions and appeals and filings. The best I could do was to catch a word here and there as the wall of noise invaded the tranquil setting and smashed it.
An older white-haired man strode in and the room quickly silenced. Judging from the staccato of the closing laptops and cell-phones this guy was the big deal. He went to the end of the table with the window behind him and it struck me as a kind of theatre. With the window behind him opening up onto the sky he took on a godlike aura and the whole thing seemed to just accent his power. When he took his place in the chair at that end of the table he then sat down and the room fell utterly silent.
I was still standing off to one side not knowing if I should sit down or not. The white-haired man shuffled through some papers and made some marks here and there and I noted that the people off to either side of him took note of his marks and made similar marks of their own in their copies of the papers. It was easily five minutes before he said anything.

“It all seems in order. Good.” He looked up at me.

“Well, you’re why we’re all here. Sit down.” He motioned at my chair and I did so.

“Amber Swenson, right?”

I nodded. For some reason I found myself not wanting to talk too much.

“Okay, here’s what we have. One of our clients’ wives is incapacitated and while she is unlikely to die anytime soon our client is still interested in having children of his own. His wife, for obvious reasons, cannot do this for him so he has asked us to contract a surrogate mother to bear his children for him.”

My mouth fell open a little. He held up a hand at me and continued.

“Now before you get any ideas or make any comments I’ll ask you to hear out the terms of the agreement.”

He took a sip of coffee and flipped a page. Then, with a look at the suit sitting next to me a copy of the document was set before me and he went on.

“On page three you’ll see in paragraph two where the surrogacy starts to get a little more involved. This isn’t just a matter of your bearing a child or children for our client it is a matter of your accepting direct insemination from our client as a precursor to conception.”

That made me find my voice.

“Wait a second, are you saying I’ll be having sex with some guy I don’t know?”

He looked up at me and I could see his patience was being strained. Clearly he did not like being interrupted.

“I said to be patient and hear our terms.’

He adjusted his glasses and looked at the paper again.

“As I was saying, our client will perform direct insemination as he wishes for his child or children to be conceived naturally and then brought to term. At the end of the pregnancy and subsequent birth you will be paid rather handsomely, given your current income as a comparison.”

He took a sip of the coffee and my nerve came up again.

“I will not be someone’s whore.”

“Hmmph.” He looked over his glasses at me, “Miss Swenson, this firm would never violate the laws of the State of California that prohibit such a thing. Our client will not pay you for sex as that would be illegal and unethical and the firm would not abide such a thing. He will be paying you to conceive his child or children naturally and then carry the child or children to term. Now please turn to page eighteen of the contract.”

And I did.

“In section thirty-six, paragraph five you will see that your base compensation will commence at a net fifteen thousand dollars per month which will continue until the agreed upon pregnancy has been completed at which time a final net payment of not less than one million dollars will be deposited to your designated financial institution and the account therein that you so designate. In short, you will earn more money than you stand to earn between teaching and slinging hamburgers in the next thirty-two years.”

He stood up and all of the suits stood up as if they were all soldiers and had been called to attention.

“You have an hour to contemplate our offer. We’ll ask you to read the contract carefully and direct any questions to Michaela who will stay with you. The contract is of a sensitive nature and you will not be allowed to leave the room with it.”
He coughed a little.

“People, we have other clients to attend to. Move.”

And in less than twenty seconds the room was silent except for Michaela who was typing away on a laptop and the sound of the air conditioning that I hadn’t noticed before. I sat down after I realized I’d stood up with the rest of the crowd when they all left the room and then started reading.
The legalese was tough to get through. It was like reading a foreign language with all of the caveats and conditions and terms and etc. It took me a good twenty minutes just to wade though until I reached the end.
Michaela was still busily tapping away as I drew a breath to ask a question. She looked at me immediately as she sensed my pending query.

“You don’t think I’m a whore for this, do you?”

Her very businesslike mask faded into a smile.

“Sweetie, this office is full of whores. We’re all just prostitutes in fancy suits and skirts and we charge more and fuck worse than what you could get on Hollywood Boulevard. No, you’re no whore.”

She sat up a bit and adjusted herself.

“A whore, in my opinion, is some bitch who marries a rich guy and then fucks the lawn boy because all she wanted was money and she gets no thrill with her man. In your case you’re agreeing to have children with our client who we have certified is fertile and capable of having a child.”

My eyebrows went up as I hadn’t considered to even ask whom the client was.

“Yes, we had him checked out when he asked us to put this deal together. My boss was quite clear that we are not procuring a prostitute we are asking you to be a surrogate mother and to accede to our client’s specific wishes. The terms of your relations with him are drawn out and you’ll see that it is all very straight forward.”

“You will be less a whore than the women who marry these guys and divorce them right after the prenup lapses.”

She was right to a point, I guess.

At the end of this I’d have over a million dollars and I’d be free to go on with my life.

I went back to reading the contract again and this time I spent a little more effort at decoding the legalese about how the insemination was to occur and, satisfied, I made my choice. When the crowd noisily invaded the room again and Mr. White Hair took his seat I was ready.

“Well, Amber?”

I sat up.

“I’ve decided to go ahead and do it.”

He smiled.

“Good. Then Michaela will see you through signing the contract and I’ll direct our movers to attend to recovering the things from your apartment. Your furniture items will be placed in storage until you need them again and your personal effects will be delivered to our client’s home where the limo will be dropping you after we’re done here. Please give Michaela your banking information so we can have your first month’s pay deposited.”

And he turned on his heel and strode out of the room with his entourage close behind him. Michaela and I went through the details and the very specific matters of what was to happen and I realized at one point that I could still back out and I paused to reflect on my as it was and as it would soon be.

“Second thoughts, huh?” Michaela looked so angelic as she asked me the question. “I’d had second thoughts about a lot of things the firm does but when it all comes down to it most of our clients are better off than they were before because we helped them. In this case our client truly wants a child but his wife cannot provide that for him. At the same time he wants to be the father in the literal sense and, again, his wife cannot provide this for him. And then you have needs that his resources can fulfill and our job is to bring you and him together. I know this’ll be different for you, but in the end I think you’ll grow from it and learn to appreciate life somewhat more than you do now.”

Wow. It was quite the soliloquy and my second thoughts remained despite the great speech. I went ahead and signed off on everything and by five that afternoon I was starting a new life.
I’d had brief hesitations about my jobs and then I figured neither would miss me. I was right. The secretary at the school would simply call someone else and then the hamburger joint would scramble to cover my shift before just hiring another someone to replace me.
The limousine ride was the next step. Michaela came with me and it was kind of nice to have some company as we went along. The trip out to the desert was almost four hours in the rush hour and then it was off the main road at Palm Springs up to a dirt road near Landers. The limo driver sighed as the dust kicked up about the shiny Cadillac and it was a good five miles up the hillside before we stopped at a very nicely appointed home overlooking the valley below.

Clearly, there was money involved. From the valley side all you could see to let on there was a house were the windows. The architecture of the home otherwise blended so well with the surroundings that it was almost camouflaged. Pulling around the back of the house the driveway became paved and we turned a corner into an almost paradise of a garden. The azaleas were in full bloom and the modest lawn was a ridiculous green compared to the surrounding desert. We stopped in the driveway near to the main door and Michaela was the first to speak.

“Well, here we are. I’ll help you get situated. Now your things will be here tomorrow but for right now my job is to get you in the front door.” The driver opened the door and she climbed out, extending her and to me.

“Come on. Let’s go see this dump.”

I took her hand and got out and the two of us walked to the front door. Just as she was about to reach for the handle the door swung open to reveal a modestly portly man of about forty or so. His dark hair had sort of a natural wave to it that was just wrong enough to make it look unkempt. He was close to six foot tall (two metres for my English friends) He had a nice smile and it was clear who he was.

He utterly ignored Michaela and took my hand.

“Hi, you must be Amber! Thank you so much for doing this for us, I can’t say enough to thank you, really!” He turned to Michaela and his voice went from chatty to business like a flick of the switch, “I think we’ll be fine from here, Mickey. Give my regards to Henry and tell him to cash the check in the morning. You people did good.”

I went to turn and say goodbye to Michaela but she was already closing the door behind her.

“Amber, you can call me Jim, okay? Great. Hey let’s show you around and then I’ll show you your room and you can get ready for dinner.”

This little introduction during which I said nothing was followed by a tour of the place. There was an indoor pool off of the living room, the place had a gym, the kitchen was amazing and the older Asian lady who was cooking seemed to be a genius as she prepped a dinner fit for a gourmet, the garage was finished off as nicely as the house and the cars were mostly modest and practical save for the Aston-Martin Vanquish. The whole place bespoke not just money, but good taste. The whole thing got rather pitiful when Jim took me to his wife’s room.

“Amber, this is my wife Andrea. Andrea, this is Amber, the girl who’ll be having our children for us.”

Then I recognized him mostly because of recognizing her. The woman in the bed was Andrea Stiles-Morton, the one-time supermodel. I remembered it all now. She and her husband were on a vacation in St. Barts’ and he videotaped her as she dove into a hotel pool and never came up. I saw the video on the news where he dropped the camera and you could still see on the tape as he dove into the pool to save her. Her neck was broken and she’d never walk again but her husband swore he’d take care of her.

She looked at me and you could just see the pain in her eyes as she looked at me. The respirator prevented her from speaking so all she could do was look around. It was so sad to see that once-vibrant woman trapped in that body.

“Amber, part of your job since you’re here is to keep company with Andrea. We only have Yung (the cook and maid) to check up on her so it might be nice for Andrea to have some company once in a while.”

He gestured at a speaker and some other weird apparatus.

“Now Andrea can talk by looking at this board here. The camera picks up her eyes and it’ll make a voice so if you hear her talk you’ll know what it is. Isn’t that right, honey?”

“YES.” Said the mechanical voice of Andrea Stiles-Morton.

Jim said some more pleasantries and then excused us to continue our tour. We ended up at my bedroom and he said some other niceties before asking me to join him for dinner. Being as I had nothing to change into I just went along and soon was enjoying my first Chinese style Chateau Briand with a sesame glaze. There was no wine and Jim explained that he and Andrea were addictive people and they had sworn off alcohol when they married seventeen years before. Following the dinner we took a little walk about the grounds and then Jim invited me back to the living room for a dessert. Yung served it up and brought me the most perfect cup of coffee when I asked for it. The cream was just perfect and the coffee was one of those fine brands with the barest bitterness.

After all of that the evening had worn on and it was close to eleven.

“I think I’m going to cash it in. Say, I do have to ask, are you on your period?”

Jim’s question caught me by surprise. I was mad at him for the briefest moment before realizing he had a right to ask the question.

“Um, ah, no. Not right now.”

“Well, then, okay. Then I’ll see you in the morning. Yung will see to getting you situated so just listen to her and you’ll be fine.”

With that he got up and left for the direction of the master suite.
I sipped the remainder of my coffee as he walked away and then noticed Yung waiting silently behind me.

“I’m sorry, are you waiting for me?”

The woman almost skittered around my chair.

“Yes, missy. I wait for you. Now come so I can put you to bed right and then leave you be.”

Put me to bed right? I nearly laughed but I knew she was serious so I went along. I followed behind her to my room and then as the door closed she went from the subdued housekeeper to matronly prison guard.

“You go strip down and take a hot shower and make fast about it. I need you dry and in bed so I can go to bed. Hurry!”

I did as I was told. I usually like a long luxurious shower but I made ‘fast about it’ and dried off. As I was drying off I noticed my clothes were gone and there was a blue silk chemise waiting for me absent any panties. I’m no rocket scientist, but it was easy to figure out what was supposed to happen. I put on the chemise and went out to the bedroom.

“Good missy. Now go to bed and we see you in the morning.”

The woman closed the door on the last note of the sentence. If anything, her timing was impeccable.
I sat down on the bed and felt the softest, most comfy bed you’d ever felt. It was like a cloud. I laid down and pulled the covers up over me and tried to wonder at the day before I slipped away. My wonder ebbed into my dreams as sleep overcame me.

The light flipped on with a blaze.

“Missy get up now. Mister will be down and you need to be ready. Go brush your teeth and brush your hair. Then get back here.”

I didn’t want to get up and I pulled the covers over my head.

The covers immediately flew back and the cold air woke me up.

“What the fuck are you doi..”

SLAP!

She slapped me! This was a fucking dream cause nobody ever slapped me.

“I told you get up and move and you do it now. I may be old lady but I kick your ass if you swear at me again or don’t move when I tell you. Mister made me your boss and you listen when I say you listen.”

I just looked at her as I held a hand to my stinging cheek.

“You going to move now?” She held up a hand at me.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll move. Shit, I’m moving, okay?”

She stood there and watched as I went to the bathroom. I closed the door to get some privacy and did my thing and then washed up and made myself look presentable. It was kind of weird not having panties to pull up after a pee, but this was the deal, I guess.
When I came out of the room there was a chair of some sort hanging from the ceiling and Yung was waiting for me.

“Sit down.”

I looked at it to figure it out.

“Missy, sit down NOW!” It was that kind of barking shriek that only older Asian women can master and she had it down pat. I sat down in the chair just kind of dumb as the woman went around me. It swung around a bit and made me just the teeniest bit woozy. Yung took my left hand and had me hold it up over my head to grasp a bar and then she put some sort of restraint on it.

“Um, what’re you doing?”

“Shut up, no time.” She said as she secured my right hand. Then she came around and put my left knee into this stirrup thingy and then did the same with my right knee.
“You be quiet now.” And with that she was gone.

I looked at my situation and felt trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Swinging around for a while I felt a little ill, but was really in no place to do anything about it. Actually, the more I sat there the less I liked the whole arrangement. A side thought interrupted my regrets as I considered the beautiful view out the window that I had slowly swung around to.

“Yung can get a little moody, don’t pay her any mind.” It was Jim.
“Yeah, I hired her to handle the paparazzi and she does a great job of it. So good, in fact, that only the hard core jerks come ‘round anymore. And then she makes them regret it.”

“Um, Jim…” stammered the fool in the chair.

“Oh, yeah. It was in your contract and I thought you saw that the contraption here was part of the deal at least at the start.” He walked behind me and I heard him pick something up.
“This was supposed to be so you didn’t change your mind in the middle of things and I guess to make sure of that I’m adding a little something.”

“Owwwwurp!!” I heard myself yell with pain as his hand came up under my jaw and pinched. The pain made me yell and then my mouth was suddenly filled with a gag and he strapped it behind my head.

“No offense, sweetie, but I can’t have you call this anything other than what we agreed on. And now I can honestly swear you never said ‘no’.” Now he padded around to where I could see him.
“I can also tell you now that I find you very arousing. I just couldn’t believe my luck when the attorneys showed me your picture. I figure for sure I’d end up with some trailer trash instead of a nice, cute looking little thing like you. Now after this, of course, things won’t have to be this way, but it’ll still involve a bit of work sometimes. But now I think you’ve heard enough talk.”

He moved closer to me and I flinched a little and he pursed his lips. I’m not sure if the lip thing was approval or disapproval. He pulled up my nightie and then I watched him run his hands over my breasts and then down my belly to my bare pussy. He smiled and then let his bathrobe slip from his shoulders. My eyes naturally followed the bathrobe as it fell but I didn’t see it hit the floor. Instead I caught an eyeful of the modestly impressive penis throbbing at me. It wasn’t the big dick you hear about in the movies, but it was a lot longer than anything I’d ever had in me.

“You like it? I hope so ‘cause it’ll be in you in a moment.”

I don’t know why, but I’d really expected a lot of foreplay and cuddling leading up to this. The way this was happening just wasn’t really what I’d had in mind.
He came closer to where he was now between my outstretched legs and again he paused to look at me and, I suppose, savor the moment. His hands touched my ankles and then as they worked their way up my legs and over my knees he stepped ever closer to me. His hands finally stopped at my hips and he held my by the hips as if they were handles. I jumped when his penis touched my belly. He pressed against me and then touched a finger to a spot just below my belly button.

“When I get this all the way in you it’ll be right behind this spot here.”

I’d said ‘Wow!’ had I been able to. I’d have also said ‘no’. He was right that I would’ve chickened out at this point. I guess it was one thing when it was all hypothetical and the money was the real part, but now it was the real part that was real. I had a strange realization, an epiphany if you will, that this was no longer just a contract and a job. This man I didn’t know the day before was about to mate with me against my will. Frankly, he’d planned it so that my will didn’t really matter at all.

“I think you’ll be a great mommy.”

He took a hand away from my hip and I soon felt a finger burrowing into my pussy. He focused on his task and I have to give him credit for knowing the right things to do. With one hand holding me in the small of my back he pushed the other hand harder against me as he rubbed and probed me with the other. He did all the right things and all at the right time. I closed my eyes as a familiar glow began to overtake me and then he stopped.
I opened my eyes just in time to see him take his length and press it up against me. He swabbed the head of it through my wettened pussy lips a few times and then I felt it pop in just a little.

“Mmmm, yeah. That’s good.”

I looked up at him and watched his face as he looked down between us and began to fuck himself into me. His smile just hung on his face and slowly turned to a dreamy, far-away look as I felt him move deeper into my body. He wasn’t any where close to being all the way inside me when he pulled out to where I could see the edge of the cockhead glimmering with my juices. He closed his eyes and held my hips tightly as he slowly plunged into me again. I expected him to stop and he just kept going deeper and deeper into me. I arched my back with the discomfort and instantly realized I’d made it easier for him.

“Ahh, you like it, too. Good.” He completely misread me and I felt him withdraw and begin another deep stroke into me.
This time he went even deeper and I felt the pressure inside me as his organ displaced some of mine. There was a sort of cramp when the length of him hit my cervix and then he kept pressing into me as if it would yield to him.

“Too bad that’s all you got ‘cause I have, ohh, at least another two inches for you.”
That was the last of his conversation as he settled into a nice rhythm plunging in and out of me. He was like that for a while, just senselessly fucking at me and staring at my body yet never making eye contact. From time to time he’d explore my body and became very familiar with my breasts. When he’d felt my nipple harden to his touch he fucked me just a bit harder and deeper and I caught my breath before he settled back to his rhythm again.
It went on for maybe ten minutes when I felt my glow start to return. But it was not to be fulfilled. Jim started moving a little faster in me and I knew his time would come before mine. His fucking became more intense with his grip on my body becoming firmer with the rising intensity. Of course, his plowing into my cervix with every thrust soon became quite uncomfortable and I found myself crying with pain and with shrieks I couldn’t get past the gag. Jim read all of this as my enjoying his attentions.
“Unnngh! Unngh! Unngh!”

He made three deep thrusts in quick succession and then he settled back a little. I was just about wondering if he had come when he grabbed me and started fucking at me like a pile driver! It was less than a minute that he did this but I suddenly felt his balls slapping against my ass and I knew that he was all the way inside me as he grabbed me tight and held himself up against my cervix and I felt him throb his sperm into me at least eight times. He thrust into me a few more times with the afterglow of his orgasm and then, spent, he abruptly pulled out of me. I felt a rush of his sperm flow out of me and down my ass before dripping ever so loudly to the carpet below.

He turned about and took up his robe and left the room without another word.

The chair swung about like a pendulum from his last thrusts and I felt terribly obscene with my legs spread and my pussy pouring sperm on the floor.

“You did good for mister. Get you down and clean up for breakfast.”

As fast as she had trussed me up Yung undid me and was like a caring mother now as she ushered me to the bathroom to clean up.

I cleaned up in short order and realized as I looked in the mirror that I had the flush of a freshly fucked woman. It occurred to me that I had enjoyed it on some level.

When I’d dressed and left the bathroom the chair and Yung were gone and my room looked quite normal again. I made my way down to the kitchen and Jim was already reading the paper and sipping coffee as Yung went about getting breakfast on the table. Jim looked up as I tentatively approached the breakfast nook.

“You look fabulous! A little breakfast will get you going for the day. Here, “he gestured, “sit down next to me and tell me a little more about yourself.” If he hadn’t fucked me just minutes before I’d swear he was acting quite fatherly towards me. I sat down and regaled him with tales of my not-so-glamorous past and then he shared with me the story of his life. By noontime we were still sitting there and Yung came in from the garden and ushered us off to the living room.
The early morning coolness had dissipated in the desert sun and it was easily in the nineties outside. You could see the heat rippling across the desert and off in the distance you could see a couple of fighter planes from the nearby base dancing about in the sky. We’d sat down and continued our chat as Yung quietly served up a lunch of finger sandwiches and iced tea. Before leaving to her duties she flipped a little switch and the living room windows retreated silently into the walls either side of the room. The cool room was soon awash in the bracing desert heat.
Jim continued on with his chat is if the heat were nothing and, I suppose, he would be used to it having lived here for so long. We finished with the lunch and then I followed as Jim led the way outside to the gardens. All the way he was chatting about movies and directors and even dwelt for a while on his nascent football career. I will admit that I was surprised that he’d regretted becoming an actor instead of going pro in the football league.

We’d been outside a good hour or so when I started to feel the heat.

“Say, um, Jim. Can we go back inside now? I’m getting a bit hot if that’s okay.”

He had a look of surprise as if he’d neglected me.

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’m sorry about that. I get carried away bullshitting about the past sometimes. Guess I’m getting to where I have a lot of history to talk about. Let’s head back and take a dip in the pool.”

The conversation ended and Jim just strode away from me as he bee-lined back to the house. I followed behind him and got myself hotter for trying to keep up. When I made the corner to the pool he was already in it, his hair wet, and smiling at me.

“There’s no one out here to see so just strip and jump in.”

I was too hot to argue about it even though I would’ve liked a little privacy as I shrugged off my clothes and then dove headlong into the clear, cool water. When I surfaced I saw Jim swim towards me and I started a little backstroke to retreat in a polite way. He followed along and then swam past me to hold onto the edge of the pool. I’d thought he was going to try something and he didn’t. We chatted on a while and then he just got out and grabbed a towel and headed into the house.
I enjoyed the cool water for a while longer and then got out and went to the shower on the patio and washed the pool water off. There was a handy bar of soap and I took advantage of it to clean the chlorine and all out of my hair. I know you’re supposed to use shampoo, but it was all that was there. I rinsed off and reached for a towel and dried off. As I came out of the shower I went to reach for my clothes and found just a fluffy, white terry robe to wear. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that this was what I was supposed to wear.
I padded into the house to escape the heat that was now becoming a bit oppressive. Yung saw me and came towards me from the kitchen.

“Mister wants you downstairs. Go.” She gestured at the stairs to the lower level. I had no inclination to argue and just went on my way. The downstairs was an area I hadn’t seen so this was something new and I took my time. One room had Jim’s office and it had a nice view of the desert and there were a few other rooms that were locked up so it was just a few minutes before I joined Jim in what I saw was a nice home theatre.

“Amber, hi, come on in and take a seat. I’m getting a little history on the screen for you. Be just a minute, okay?”

“Yeah.” I mumbled. The theatre was nicely appointed in a very modern fashion with a couple rows of comfortable seats and I picked one in the middle of the room and settled in. A few minutes or so later Jim came along and joined me.

“You’ll like this.” He aimed a remote at the screen and the room darkened and a home movie started up. It was Jim and Andrea on a vacation in Barbados before the accident. It was your typical boring home movie for a good hour or so. Every now and then, though, I catch Jim staring at me out of the corner of my eye before he’d go back to watching the screen as if something great was supposed to be happening.
The movie covered all the typical home movie themes such as the airport, the waiter, the neat restaurant, the great view from the room, and then the movie cut to a morning scene in the room with Andrea leaning on the railing wearing a fluffy, white terry robe just like the one I was wearing. The camera shot jiggled about a bit and then went very stable and you could see Jim walk into the shot and he came up behind Andrea. I’m guessing he put the camera on a desk or something.
He was wearing a robe in the shot and I looked at him and saw he was now wearing the same robe. In the movie he came up behind Andrea and dropped his robe and was naked as he approached his wife. She didn’t move an inch as he hiked up her robe to reveal her own nakedness, she just continued staring out at the beach and the view as her husband caressed her. He made a motion at her and she clearly arched her back at him and then he moved in closer. There was a brief hesitation between the two of them and then you could clearly see him starting to make love to her from behind.
Of course, I realized this movie was worth millions if it ever made it to the Internet!
That thought was quickly forgotten as I turned and saw Jim looking at me. He clicked on the remote and the room gradually brightened up.

“What did you think, Amber?”

What the hell was I supposed to think?

“Um, it was interesting?”

Jim chuckled and then stood up and put his hand out to me.

“Come with me, I’d like to show you something neat.”

I followed him and we left the theatre and walked into the hallway and kept going. In my mind I realized that we were walking at least a couple hundred feet down the hallway so that meant we were in a tunnel. It went on a ways more and then Jim opened a door to a room that had the most delectable view of the most beautiful little valley!
“It’s Andrea’s private valley and now it’s yours, too.” He went to the side of the room and flipped a switch and the big window rolled away to make the room into a lanai. Strangely, as hot as the desert was a few hundred feet away, the air in the valley was noticeably cooler. Jim led me to the railing overlooking the valley and had me lean on it. Then I heard him drop his robe and felt him lift mine. I was a little nervous, I’ll admit. He ran his hands over the globes of my ass and then ran them up my sides until he cupped my breasts. His hands went down to my hips and pulled back a bit and I found the front of my robe falling open. There wasn’t too much I could do as I was leaning on my elbows and looking out at the secret valley.
Jim cozied up behind me and his cock fit right up between my legs as he hugged me. His hands went to my breasts again and lingered on my nipples for a delicious while. A sparrow flew by the lanai and I watched her head for the ridgeline as Jim’s patience became limited. His hands withdrew to my hips and then one of them swept between my legs and I felt a finger run through my furrow and spread me.
He drew in a breath with the excitement and then placed himself at my opening and pressed just enough to get started. Then he took my by the hips and slowly started working himself into me. I turned to look at him and his face was a picture of bliss. His eyes were closed and he was lightly biting his lower lip. He made a sudden thrust and then was all the way inside of me, the surprise of his action evoked a mild discomfort and an erotic rush that I hadn’t expected and I closed my eyes and felt my jaw go slack.
The experience was so pure and basic. We were two people acting in the pure intent to create a child and I found it all so incredibly erotic. As Jim started thrusting into me with a slow and persistent rhythm I found myself lost in the sensation of mating. I’d returned my view to the valley and saw the birds and the trees and the flowers and my thoughts dwelt on them as the ebb and flow of Jim’s cock in my body continued on.
He hand wandered into my hair and then down my shoulder to find a purchase on my breast again. This time, though, I met his hand with mine and we entangled our fingers. It was in that instant that a line was crossed and we became lovers. I not only consented to this mating, I was accepting the man who was doing it to me. His hand drifted away to the small of my back and then gently pushed me down to where my chest now leaned against the railing.

“Hold on to the rail.” He said and I complied.

It was amazing. He stayed in me as he stepped back a bit from the rail. I was holding the rail with both hands as he held my hips with both of his and began to fuck me with fervor. The intensity of the moment rushed through me and I felt myself falling into the abyss of pleasure as the sensations and emotions came to a peak in me. I forget exactly what it was I did or said as the exquisite pleasure of his cock drew me to my peak, but it was wonderful!
Jim felt it, too, and soon joined me and I felt a conquest of my own as his cock throbbed into me. I’d done more to this man than just serve as a receptacle for him, I’d become his and he’d somehow become mine in that brief moment we’d held hands.
Jim let go of me and gently let my feet drop to the floor as his cock swung free of my body. The rush of his sperm out of my pussy and down my leg was as erotic as it was obscene.
I turned to look at him and he had this pained look as if he’d betrayed someone and I realized it was Andrea.

“I gotta go, sorry.” And with that he was gone.