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making you mine



f/f, D&S, Pregnancy

Making You Mine

By Cate



Please, Cate," you beg.

"I'm insisting on this," I say.



"Cate, I'm begging you - maybe in a year or two," you plead.

"In a year or two you may be too old," I insist. "You've lived the

life of a selfish, feckless bitch up to this. Shall we just sleep

together tonight and then part company in the morning? Is that

what you want, Katie?"

"CATE," you shriek, "I need you so much, please, love me, love me..."

You are agitated and push forward to put your arms around my waist,

pushing against my tight skirt. I stand up and start to undress

and you get up and walk to the bed,. For a moment I stop

undressing, watching the way the chain from your neck-collar

swings against your magnificent hips, the sway of your buttocks

as you turn to sit on the bed. You swing your legs up, then lie

down and wait for me.



After we have made love, I explain as patiently as I can that this

is all very well, but it is not enough for me.

"You're getting a bit carried away, Cate," you say. "Your child?

I mean, are you serious?"

"That's what you're to call it," I tell her.

"Please shut up, Cate," you say.

"Shut up yourself," I say "You're going to have my child."

"I haven't noticed you've grown a prick lately," you snigger.

I am lying on top of you and I slap you lightly on the cheek. I

don't care for this sort of talk very much.

"Obviously you'll have to come off the pill," I say, kissing you

and stroking your cheek tenderly. "When your periods return I'll

start taking your temperature every day."

You kiss me back, those delicious dry pecks of yours. I lick the

little broken crumbs of lipstick at the bottom of your lower lip.

"You used to be a doctor, didn't you?"

" Yeah, before I got married," I say. "I'd need retraining. I'm

pretty rusty, but I know enough for this."

I find that just because I'm lying on top of you I am becoming quite

aroused again and I start to allow the weight of my ass to gently

rock my hips above yours.

" We'll use ovulation kits... to find when there is a...a lutenizing

hormone surge... so we'll know we're...we're, ohmigod...I'm...coming..

.."

I have a really fully satisfying orgasm. I roll off when I've

finished but start masturbating you gently.

"Sorry, what was I saying? Yeah, we'll have to check for the LH

so we'll know we're within thirty six hours of ovulation."

"You still know your stuff, don't you?"

"We can also check your mucous to make sure it's receptive," I say.

"This really WILL be your baby, won't it?" you say innocently, and

I know you've accepted the idea now and that you will soon be

completely and utterly mine.

You are wet, really wet.

"More than you know, honey," I breathe gently into your ear.

Three months later I meet him at the airport on a shuttle flight

from London where he's attending a conference, then flying back to

California. I haven't seen him for nearly three years and he

looks healthy, lightly tanned and a bit heavier about the face but

not yet with that made of plastic look a lot of people get after

years in the US. His hair is a different colour from mine -

I don't want to go partly grey yet - but some people do a double-take

when they see us going through arrivals, we're so alike. We have

a meal together and a bottle of wine.

"So Johnny and you have split up?" he says

"That's right," I say. "He's been having an affair with a much

younger woman for years now. She works in the jewellery store"

He grins at me across the table

" I've known about it almost from the start," I continue," but I let

it go until just recently when I decided to make a fresh start..."

"So, who's the lucky guy?" he asks.

"Nobody special just yet," I lie.

He admits he can't keep his hands off younger women either and his

wife is filing for divorce. I know he is careful - he's seen a lot

of AIDS in his hospital - else I wouldn't be doing what I'm doing.

I know he'd like a woman tonight, but it is too late to find one for

him. Maybe if he were booked into a hotel he would be seeking the

assistance of the night porter. But I bring him home with me,

offering him the guest room in the old converted stable at the

bottom of the garden. A couple of whiskys later he is not all

that surprised to find himself in bed having sex with his twin

sister.

It is quite strange having a cock in me again and I enjoy it.

We've had sex a couple of times before, Nick and I, when we were

nineteen and he wasn't surprised that time either. I really

fancied him even though we were identical twins, but I knew we

couldn't make a habit of it and lead normal lives, but sometimes

through the years he would half jokingly try to seduce me.. I

trust him. He is making love to me without a condom now, making

love to me the second time. He has to fight for his orgasm and

probably the sperm will be weaker the second time. But nobody

will ever know, will they?

I climb out of bed again, keeping my sphincter ring tightly clenched,

kiss my twin lightly on the lips and put on my robe. I am in a

hurry now, but have been careful to convey all my endearments while

still in bed with him. I tell him I will bring him an early

breakfast in the morning and drive him to the airport. Three

minutes later I am in bed with you, both of us naked and my

identical twin's sperm is leaking from my vagina into yours. I

fake an orgasm and then, kneeling over you, I masturbate you,

putting my fingers deep inside you. Then I lift your legs

and I tilt you so that your ankles are resting on my shoulders

and I delve deep inside you, kneading the viscous life fluid towards

your fertile centre. But I am not taking any chances. You will

never know about Nick or even that I have a twin brother. He will

be gone before you wake, sluggishly as always, in the morning. But

earlier, after the first bout of lovemaking, pleading a need to go

to the bathroom, I'd removed the condom I had given Nick earlier and

told him I'd get rid of it. Beside the bathroom, in the old harness

room, the nurse was waiting, sitting demurely with her legs neatly

pressed together and the large intimidating canister from the sperm

bank beside her on the table. She immediately removed the inner

container, careful not to burn her hand on the dry ice. The

container carried a picture of a little man inside a drop of sperm.

I had handed her the special non-spermicidal condom which she took

without a word, then I went back to fuck Nick again.

I hold you like that, with your ankles over my shoulders, for nearly

half an hour, gently playing with your labia then start to masturbate
you more firmly , trying to stop you getting bored or pettish.

Finally I lower your legs and get on top of you and, as you start to

murmur "I'm having your baby," I find myself moving furiously towards

climax.

The next day you are lying on the bed again. I have lit candles and

placed bowls of fruit and vases of flowers all around the room.

Stravinsky's "Rite Of Spring" is playing softly on the stereo. I

have dressed you in a pretty nightgown of broderie anglaise and your

hair is tied with a silk bow behind your head. The large container

with the biohazard warning on it and the sticker showing the outline

of a sperm with a little man inside it from the sperm bank is on the

window-sill and. For all the blue and pink ribbons I have tied

around it to soften its intimidating cold solidity , it still sits

there like an unexploded bomb. I gave you Pergonal a fortnight ago

to induce ovulation at a more predictable time and that time is now.

There is a catheter and you giggle at its name Tom cat and then you

shriek when you see how long the syringe is.

"You're not sticking that in me," you protest, but I know you are

smug and content and ready to do anything I want. You are not

altogether sure why we are doing this.

"You put it in me yesterday," you say "You made your baby in me."

"This is just insurance," I say. "It may not even work this month."

You have put on weight in the last three months and a little grey

has come into your hair. You still look after your appearance but

that hard sheen has gone and you are much more womanly now in my eyes.

I am dressed neatly in a twinset and tweed skirt and I sit on the bed

and lift your night-dress to reveal your belly and pubic area, the

hair still neatly shaved in a heart shape. You are a little nervous

now - that is understandable but I am going to be very gentle with

you and I hope you will always remember this experience with great

tenderness. I kiss you softly on the lips, then return to the end

of the bed and position myself between your raised legs. I lay my

finger inside your vagina, then lay the syringe along my finger as

a guide and tell you to blow out through your mouth to relax your

vagina muscles.

"Here I come now," I say, then I deposit the seed gently inside you.

We kiss again, then I repeat the procedure, this time depositing the

sperm directly into your uterus. I lift your legs again, placing

your ankles over my shoulders and we look deeply into each other's

eyes. I tell you we will repeat the procedure again within twenty

four hours and then we shall just have to wait and see what happens,

but you have no doubts at all.

"I'm going to have your baby," you say contentedly.

Six months later and your belly is puffed like a big warm yeasty loaf

and we are in bed and I am lying on top of you. It is a wet night

and the rain is rattling the bedroom windows and a tree branch

occasionally taps against the glass. The bed is creaking because

you are still willing to have me make love to you. It is going to

be a very big baby and my knees barely reach the bed on either side

of you and the feeling of power and possession I have is

extraordinary. You still want to wear my collar although, of

course, the chain is unnecessary now. I possess you completely.

You have given yourself to me and you are bearing my child while I

continue to make love to you. You have told me you will have as

many children as I want and, at the moment, I am thinking of two,

but I may change my mind. You will be surprised if they strongly

resemble me, but you will not ask any questions. You know better

than that. The wind gets stronger and a burst of rain rattles the

windowsill and it is so cosy in the bed, the feeling of intimacy

between us is overwhelming. You tighten your arms around my neck

and sigh contentedly and I think I feel our baby move between us as

I move gently towards orgasm.

The End





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