Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: The Lieutenant's Widow, Part 2
Summary: A young widowed mom wants to have a second child quickly, and
chooses a bereaved dad as her inseminator.  The inseminator's wife joins
the fun, too.  100% fiction, of course, and don't read if you are not of
legal age.
Codes: impreg, lesbian, threesome, MFF
   By A.Muller
   As I left Megan's home I turned to the right and began jogging, away
from my house to a jogging path that led to the river.  I needed time to
think, to figure out how I was going to make this arrangement, this
delightful brief interlude of baby making, this unexpected fuckfest, how I
was going to make it work well and to not let it drag me screaming into
marital and financial hell.
   I wanted more of that pussy.  I wanted to fuck it and suck it, lick it
and stroke it.  I wanted to get at Megan's nipples and tits.  I needed to
stroke them, kiss them, nibble them; I needed to bite them, suck them,
enjoy them.  I wanted to get at her asshole, too, to lick it, tease it, and
to stroke and tickle the flesh around it.
   I wanted to give me, Steve fucking Alfson, at age 56, something to
remember.  I wanted to give Megan something to enjoy and remember when her
new child was acting up and making her life miserable.  Perhaps most of
all, I wanted to relive and revive the glorious days of my youth, when
young women were flirty and easy and fucked like bunnies.
   I wanted it all, but I also didn't want to destroy my marriage and sever
our memories -- Deidre's and mine -- of our children.  In some way, in some
fashion, Jessica and Tyler lived on in our memories, which we sometimes
shared when something reminded one of us of our children.
   Those memories were important, very important to me -- but also
important was the fleeting chance that Megan had given me of creating a new
child.  I didn't want to recreate Jessica or Tyler, but I did want to
create a new life, a legacy of myself for future generations.  And, I
wanted to cum in a young, willing, and wet cunt as often as possible.
   As often as possible indeed, and it was already 10:30.  I turned around
on the jogging path, felt in my pocket for the Mexican viagra -- it was
reassuringly still there -- and headed home.  I got in the front door at a
little after 11 and jumped in the shower.  Deidre gave me a "hi" and "bye"
as she headed out shopping.  "I'll be back about an hour before dinner,"
she said.  Ah, that made the mid-day fuck easy to arrange!
   At noon I took the viagra, and almost precisely at 1 p.m.  I knocked on
Megan's door.  For a minute or two I waited, then peered in the window.  I
saw no one.  What was going on?  I had no idea, but no sooner had I turned
to leave than Megan drove up with Rachel safely secured in an infant's car
seat and groceries spilling all over the front "shotgun" passenger seat.  I
rebagged the groceries and carried them inside while Megan cooed at her
baby.  She set Rachel in the playpen, smiled at me, and said, "Why don't I
lean over the coffee table this time, Steve?"
   I nodded as she dropped her jeans, kneeled on the carpeted floor, and
leaned over the little table.  But I had no intention of fucking her doggie
style once again.  I unbuckled my jeans, stepped out of them and my
drawers, and then, grabbing Megan's shoulders, I lifted her a bit off the
table and rolled her onto the floor.  "Steve," she said steadily, but
loudly,"what the hell are you doing?"
   "We're going to fuck missionary style, so I see your face when I come."
   "No, we're not," she said.  "That's too damn intimate.  You're my donor,
not my lover." While she protested, I was exploring her labia with my right
hand and scooting my left hand underneath her blouse.  "Steve, damnit, stop
it, just stop it!"
   While she protested, I stopped caressing her vulva, reached down and
freed her left leg and foot from her jeans, and then assumed the age-old
breeding position between her legs.  "Oh, all right," she said.  "Go
ahead."
   I wasn't waiting for her to change her mind or start screaming and
summon the neighbors.  I plunged straight into her cunt, and we rutted. 
God, she felt good.  She turned her head sideways so I couldn't kiss her
straight on the lips, but I went ahead and kissed her face, her neck, her
exposed ear, her chin, and I nuzzled her cloth-covered tits.
   The more we fucked, the more responsive she became.  "Oh God, Steve, oh
God, oh God, oh God!  Fuck me!  Fuck me!  Oh, shit, fuck me!" I felt her
tensing, her hips bucked more strongly, and then suddenly her cunt was
squeezing me like a sopping-wet fist.  She came, and came, and then I came,
and came.
   We lay there for several minutes, my dick's pulses slowly dying away as
the last of my sperm left my groin and entered hers.  Megan turned her head
away from the carpet and looked at me straight on.  Her hands grabbed the
back of my head and pulled me to her, and we kissed and kissed and our
tongues danced together as moments earlier our bodies had.
   Megan giggled.  "Well," she said.  "I tried to keep this relationship
simple and straightforward, but you had to go and fuck it up." I just
grinned and kissed her.
   That evening, I took a dose of viagra at 6 and resolved to nibble at my
dinner, so that the magic pill would be sure to dissolve and actually enter
my bloodstream.  After dinner, I "remembered" that I had to gas up my car
and then promptly drove over to Megan's, intent on filling her vaginal tank
as quickly as I could.
   I told Megan we needed to be quick.  "OK, boss," she said, and bent over
the back of her sofa.  To inspire me, she took off her blouse -- at last!
-- so that I could grope her tits as we humped.
   Her pussy was still creamy from the day's two earlier fucks, and I slid
in easily.  But I swear that since giving birth she must have done Kegel
exercises nearly non-stop, because her cunt grabbed my penis tightly.  Her
squeezes matched my strokes, and that familiar feeling quickly arose in my
balls and I shot a few tepid streams into her.  The day's fucking had
pumped me nearly dry!
   After I pulled out I leaned over and kissed her, and she kissed me back.
Her earlier reluctance to do more than just fuck was gone.  "You are one
hell of a lover, Mr.  Alfson," she said.  "If you were twenty or thirty
years younger, I'd be dragging you down the aisle." I smiled, kissed her
again, patted her ass, and washed my genitals with her dishrag once more,
hoping that my wife wouldn't notice the lingering smell of young cunt when
we got in bed that night.  Off I went to a local gas station and paid cash
for a few gallons to top off the tank.
   I was about as horny as a bowl of Jello, but Megan had been right about
one thing: My wife and I almost always screwed on Saturday night, and I
needed to perform on schedule.  Frankly, I was dreading it, and so I took
Deidre to see the longest movie I could find in the online listings, and
then to a late-night restaurant where we had deserts and coffee.  Deidre
thought I was being romantic, which unfortunately guaranteed that I would
absolutely have to perform nobly between our sheets.
   It was 12:45 when I swallowed two of the viagra tablets, and 1:30 a.m.
when we got to bed.  I engaged in foreplay for many minutes, kissing and
french kissing before switching my focus to Deidre's ears, then to her neck
and tits and nipples, then moving lower to her butt and labia and, finally,
to her clit, to give my balls and prostate as much time as possible to get
ready.
   I need not have worried.  I was un-horny mentally, but physically I was
so pumped up with generic Mexican viagra that I rode Deidre for a long time
before finally my balls responded and shot out some semen.  The
ejaculations actually hurt!  It was a once-familiar pain I hadn't
experienced since my teen-age years, when marathon masturbation and, later
on, all night fucking sessions were often the norm.
   Deidre was sweaty by the time we finished, and her neck was flushed. 
"You are one hell of a lover, Mr.  Alfson," she said.
   What the fuck!  What the hell did she say?  My heart didn't skip a beat,
but my mind did.  I concentrated on remembering exactly what Megan had
said, and yep, my memory told me she had said precisely the same thing
after our evening fuck session.  I was a worried man as I drifted off to
sleep.  If I hadn't fucked myself silly throughout the day, I'm sure I
would have experienced a restless night, but I was so thoroughly sated that
I slept straight through till morning.
   Sunday morning found me, once again, as horny as that bowl of Jello.  I
was just plain fucked out, and yet Megan would be expecting me and my dick
in an hour or so.  She had expected that I would not need the Mexican
viagra, but lying in bed, I wasn't so sure.  Instead of a morning hard on,
I had a flaccid piece of flesh attached to my crotch.
   I decided to take some viagra.  Where had I left it?  Right, in my pants
pocket, but then I vaguely remembered throwing the pants in the laundry
basket and, omigod, Deidre did the laundry on Saturday mornings.
   Just then, my up-early-in-the-morning wife walked into the bedroom
carrying the bottle of viagra gingerly between her fingers, as if it were a
used condom.
   "Whatcha been up to, Honey?" she asked, only it wasn't really a
question. I must have turned beet red.
   Deidre laughed.  "I never know what I'm going to find when I check your
pockets before doing the laundry." She laughed some more and reached into
her housecoat, pulled out her phone, and pressed the call button.  I heard
a cell phone ring downstairs, but I didn't recognize the ringtone.  "Megan,
you better come up here," Deidre said into the phone.
   Oh, shit!
   Just seconds later Megan appeared at the top of the stairs, carrying
Rachel in her arms.  She obviously had been downstairs for some time, but I
hadn't had a clue.  "Hi, Mr.  Sperm," she said as she made her entrance
into our bedroom.
   I was sitting up in bed as Megan entered, but at that moment the comfy
bed felt like cutting block, and I was the slab of meat about to be chopped
up.  I had tried to get up, but Deidre had shaken her head and said,
firmly, "Don't you dare move," and she had remained standing there,
clutching the viagra bottle and smirking.
   Now that both women were in the room, I was more confused than ever. 
They evidently knew each other very well, and there was no anger between
them, not even the tiniest spark.  They stood there, grinning, and looking
at me as if I were a prize rooster at some state fair.
   "I guess you're wondering what's up," my wife said.  I nodded.  "In the
months after Jessica and Tyler died I was totally lost.  Many an evening I
spent hours on Facebook, looking at what their friends were doing, and I
struck up some friendships of my own.  Meanwhile, Megan was searching, too,
after her husband died.  Somehow, we made an online connection.  That's the
thing about the Internet: Age and appearances don't matter very much in
cyberspace.
   "Also about that time, I realized that you really wanted more children,
and Megan confided that she wanted to get pregnant quickly, to avoid
Rachel's being an only child, or being the older sister to a much younger
sibling.  And I thought, well, why not give you what you really wanted --
and make it a thrilling, exciting adventure for you?"
   "You guys set me up?" I asked.
   "Yeah, it was a set-up," Megan replied.  "That's why I moved to this
neighborhood.
   "Don't misunderstand me, Steve," she continued.  "Yes, I want a husband
my own age, someone to raise kids with, and grow old with, and share the
memories of a lifetime with.
   "But Steve, all that said, you are my chosen sperm donor, our age
differences be damned.  I have really and truly wanted to fuck you from the
moment I first saw your photo.  I don't know why.  I really don't.  Maybe I
just wanted my next baby to have your smile and your eyes.  Or maybe I just
wanted to do a favor for Deidre, my new friend.
   "What I do know for certain is that at this exact moment I'm fertile,
and it's time for me to get laid." With that, Megan handed Rachel to my
wife, peeled off her clothes, and climbed into bed.  "Have fun, you two,"
my wife said.  She closed the door as she left the room.
   This Megan was very, very different from the Megan of the morning
before, the one who wanted to be fucked, and only fucked.  This Megan
practically attacked my dick with her tongue and mouth, and she was good,
very good.  In no time my prick was at full attention as she firmly sucked
on it and gently raked it with her teeth and took it deep into her mouth.
   I was getting ready to explode, and told her so.  She pulled me out of
her mouth, smiled, and said, "Maybe later I'll suck you dry, big boy, but
right now I need that milky white stuff somewhere else." With that, she
mounted me, and we fucked cowgirl style.
   I stroked her ass and her back with my hands, and tried to kiss her
nipples with my mouth, while she flaunted her tits and let them bounce just
in front of my face, barely out of tongue range.  All the time we were
doing this I was slowly poking my dick up her cunt, and she was rising and
falling in slow rhythm with my fucking.
   Gradually, a sense of longing arose in my dick and balls, and I thrust
harder and harder, and her cunt squeezed me tighter and tighter, and then I
erupted.  She rolled over while clasping me tight with her legs, so that
the final spurts of semen were delivered deep in her cunt while I was on
top.  She kissed me avidly, her tongue dancing inside my mouth.  "Oh, God,
you were wonderful," she said, hugging me tight with both her arms and
legs.
   "You, too," I said.  "You, too."
   END of Part 2
  
The Lieutenant's Widow part 2