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Fantasy Aftermath
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T H E H O M E R V A R G A S S T O R Y A R C H I V E
All in this archive are the property of the author.
They may be downloaded and read by private citizens. They
are not to be used by commercial web sites. Persons using
this material on commercial sites will be vigorously pur-
sued by the "hounds from hell," or my legal team, whichever
is deemed necessary. These were written for adult
entertainment and should not be accessed by children.
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Fantasy Aftermath
Homer Vargas and Sakka
Vargas111@hooyahooya.com and Sakka66@aolaol.com
MC, Mdom, orgy, humor, preg
Point of View: Third Person
Redistribution: No restriction except that the
may not be changed/edited and the title, authors'
names and emails, and request for feedback must remain
intact.
Summary: A news report growing out of the meting of
Homer Vargas and a reader of his told in "An
Author's Fantasy."
First Posted ASSM 8/25/02
Last Edited 8/25/02
BABY BOOM BLAMED ON BOOKSTORE IMBROGLIO Dateline: June
17, 2003, Upper Knocksville, WV
Innocence Fecunda
In a startling development straight out of the fertile
imagination of noted author Homer Vargas himself, a
recent wave of pregnancies -- overwhelming local
hospitals -- has been traced to a personal appearance
by the same Homer Vargas at an Upper Knocksville
erotic bookstore approximately nine months ago.
"I had no idea this was going to happen," said the
beaming author; "One minute I was having a pleasant
conversation with a very sexy pregnant lady, if that
is not otiose to say, in the 'Homer Vargas' section of
the emporium and the next minute I'm coping with a
confabulation of concentrated copulation," the author
announced in his annoyingly alliterative affectation.
"Apparently, several -- well at least they were
pre-menopausal -- women overhearing our conversation
about seducing studs and making them into
fucktoys, got so lathered-up they were compelled to
hike their skirts and start pleasuring themselves on
the spot," the author explained. "It might have ended
with a few temporarily satisfied women with soaked
panties, but when my interlocutor began to describe
how she arranged to get fucked silly and filled with
boiling hot just when she was at her most fertile
time, the listeners totally lost control. The women
started grabbing their husbands, boyfriends -- pretty
much any they could lay hands on -- and started
coupling like a hutch of over-heated hamsters."
Curiously, even Dr. Vargas was not aware of the scale
of the orgy he had inadvertently incited. Dr. Vargas,
having contributed as much semen to the purpose of
profligate procreation as prudently possible,
attempted to extricate himself from the bookstore with
his clothes on -- fighting off a gaggle of suburban
matrons caught up in the frenzy. At that moment,
however, the manager of the bookstore was moved to
begin reading from her favorite passages of "Judith
and Me" on the bookstore's public address system,
arousing the astonished onlookers even more.
By coincidence, word spread to a gathering of feminist
scholars meeting at the nearby Upper Knocksville
Convention Center who called the police. This failed
to redress the situation, however, since by the time
two impressionable policewomen arrived, scores
of women had joined the orgy and were braying to be
impregnated. The policewomen themselves were soon
bent over the bookstore sales counter, eagerly taking
rapid-fire cumloads and pleading to be made mommies by
a line of now flocking to the bookstore from every
corner of the city.
Accounts of events after this point are unclear, but
one eyewitness (a former professor of Militant
Feminist Literature and a new of triplets,
speaking on condition of anonymity) recalls the
outrage of the 250-odd middle-aged grrrls at the
Convention Center when they heard of an orgy in
progress. When someone else informed them that their
nemesis, the notorious Homer Vargas himself was
involved, anger in the auditorium boiled over in a
spontaneous decision to rush the adjacent bookstore.
The orgasmic melee in front of the bookstore had by
them spread across several blocks and the feminist
scholars were instantly immersed in a frenzy of
formidable fornication. Soon the sexed-up scholars
were shucking their dowdy clothes and grabbing any
they could find (including a pleased group of
troglodyte males who had come to protest the feminist
conclave), humping them urgently and begging to be
made pregnant.
As the eyewitness was being interviewed in the back of
a bus transporting the wrestling team of Upper
Knocksville University, her frumpy skirt hiked up
around her waist, her clunky clogs in the air, and a
line of well-hung studs with 'cocks like truncheons'
queuing to fill her cunt, she was unable to shed
further light on the situation (beyond bewilderment at
her current status as a forty-two-year single
mother of triplets--one white, one black, and one
Hispanic).
Your reporter can herself testify to the power of the
strange ambiance, as she had no sooner arrived at the
bookstore, pencil and note pad in hand, than she found
herself on her back (the first time, anyway),
around her ankles and her being pounded by a
burly maintenance worker. To her best recollection,
the baby looks a lot like his father, although not so
black.
Medical investigators, piecing together the accounts
afterward, have explained the incident as a kind of
endocrinal chain reaction, as the high levels of
pheromones from the steamy cunts of the first group of
listeners was communicated to other women, now hearing
the Vargas narration on the loudspeakers. Experts
speculate their quims reacted sympathetically to the
twin stimuli, producing an extraordinary high
concentration of the lust inducing hormones in the
air. As frantic copulation began, a perverse feedback
loop was established, whereby more and more women went
into heat and opportunistic appeared to breed
them.
The exceptionally high pregnancy rate among the
feminist scholars was explained by the fact that none
were using any form of birth control, considering oral
contraceptives to be a "masculine assertion of
hormonal dominance over the female body." For most,
contraception was a non issue, few having husbands or
boyfriends, as they were accustomed to getting the sex
they needed from pussy-licking eager to raise
their GPAs. Thus, 157 of those women found themselves
carrying babies in the following weeks, adding their
359 children to half-again that number conceived by
various other women, who couldn't put in their
diaphragms quickly enough or were too happily
distracted to insist their partners use condoms.
Researchers believe the pheromone concentration had
the additional effect of immediately kicking every
woman's monthly cycle into instant fertility and
probably explains the disproportionate number of
multiple births as well. Apparently exposure to such
high levels of sex hormones leaves the victim
permanently horny and craving pregnancy and disposed
to fuck or woman at the drop of a panty. Your
reporter, who is expecting again, has found that to be
the case and has had to engage a black boyfriend and
two girlfriends to assist her exhausted but happy
husband with his duties.
That these events were was not more widely reported is
largely thought to be the work of Lovey Lilywhite, our
state's Lieutenant Governor, in Upper Knocksville that
fateful day for a meeting of State Committeewomen.
Her epic efforts of spin control were compromised only
when the tummies of several of the Committeewomen and
that of the forty-five year Lieutenant Governor
herself began to swell. Awkwardly, her twins were
conceived when Ms. Lilywhite rushed to visit the scene
of the crisis first hand. Suspicions that Governor
Connor Puissy was responsible were allayed when both
Lilywhite twins turned out with strong features.
This was hardly the governor's largest concern as
hundreds of women started turning up plump with babies
simultaneously, overwhelming the medical resources not
only of Upper Knocksville, but also of the entire
state. As of this writing, the governor is considering
a request for aid from Federal Emergency Management
Administration, since the surge in popularity of
Vargas's pro-pregnancy porn (directly linked to this
incident) is threatening to create an even larger
population explosion across the entire state in the
coming months.
For his part, Dr. Vargas stated that he was gratified
his works had reached such a wide and enthusiastic
audience and that he was pleased that most of the
women had been inspired by his to embrace
their maternity -- and indeed, would be having more
babies, as soon as possible. "You just never know
what's going to happen when you write these stories,"
Mr. Vargas mused, his arm around a slightly pregnant
woman with curly hair, nursing a light brown
infant.
The End
Comments, please to:
Sakka
Sakka66@aol.com
and
Homer Vargas
vargas111@yahoo.com
************
Fantasy Therapy
Homer Vargas
Vargas111@hooyahooya.com
Part 1
MC, Mdom, rom, preg
Point of View: Third Person
Redistribution: No restriction except that the
may not be changed/edited and the title, author's name
and email, and request for feedback must remain
intact.
Summary: Dr Vargas has an unusual solution for a
with a common problem
First Posted 9/8/01
Last Edited 9/8/02
Fantasy Therapy (MC, Mdom, rom, preg)
Homer Vargas
vargas111@yahoo.com
A small brown in an expensive but ill-fitting suit
sat behind the desk, smiling benevolently at the
client in from of him. "Your complaints are not
dissimilar to many I've heard, Mr. Frusten. Your
has borne you the two point zero zero zero children
she felt was her duty and has now turned her attention
to other matters. 'Getting on with her life' many
call it. Sex just isn't important in that plan, or
outright dangerous, lest another two or three point
zero zero zero babies come along"
"Yes, that's it. I can't understand how she can do
this to me!"
"She probably is not being intentionally cruel,
Arthur. Most women simply have no conception of men's
constant, overpowering need for sex and how much they
want to see their wives stay pregnant, so she has no
conception of the degree of your torment. I call it
the 'asexual wife' syndrome: no miniskirts, no skimpy
undies, no sexy sleepwear, no high heel sandals, no
intimate dinners, no evenings out dancing, no giving
or receiving of oral sex and especially no
spontaneous, unprotected intercourse."
The nodded sadly. "Is there anything I can DO,
Dr. Vargas?"
"Of course, Arthur. You CAN just continue to take it,
as you have for the last five or ten years. You are,
what, 45 now? In another 25-30 years your sex drive
may have diminished to approximate that of your wife's
and you can spend your declining years holding hands
and pretending you had been happy all the time."
"But I CAN'T take it any longer," the almost
sobbed. "I love her, but I can't go on without more
sex. Isn't there anything else"
"You say you've tried all the standard advice to
reassure her of your affection: leaving love notes,
bringing flowers, buying her sexy lingerie, suggesting
romantic vacations. But she knows what you really
have in mind is SEX and she's not buying it. No,
there is not much else YOU can do, but there's a hell
of a lot SHE could do. I think we need to bring about
a convergence of your sexual fantasies"
"But she doesn't HAVE any fantasies."
"You may be right, now. When you first married, she
probably had some ridiculously fantastic expectations
of you. When she realized you were just a man, she
gave up on you and her fantasies. Not to worry. In a
way it makes our job easier if she has NO fantasies.
"But then 'converge?'"
"We simply give her yours."
"Mine? But I don't really have fantasies, either. I
just want a hot, pregnant wife.
"Fantasy enough, some would say, but don't sell
yourself short, Arthur. Perhaps you just haven't
explored your deeper desires. How much pornography do
you read?"
"Pornography? Oh, gosh! None since I was married.
Deborah would kill me. Well, maybe a glimpse of
'Playboy' when I travel on business."
"Hmmm. Ever read on the internet? MCStories.
com? Erticstories.com? Storiesonline.com? Dark
Wandereer.com? Or just the ASSM?"
"'A-S-S-M?'"
"'Alternative Sex Moderated,'" the largest,
most comprehensive site of all and maintained by
readers who contribute money at:
http://www.asstr.org/donations.html
"No, none of that."
"Then you don't know if you have fantasies or not,
Arthur. I think we'd better find out, don't you?"
"But if I don't know, how can we find out.?"
"Quite easily. I'll run a psychopornogram on you."
He motioned to a closet-size contraption.
"A psycho-what"
"Never mind. Just remove your clothes and step into
the machine."
"Remove my clothes?"
"Of course. Many fantasies -- the good ones, at least
-- involve skin-to-skin contact with the opposite sex.
The psychopornogram records your reactions as
experienced during them."
"Wow! It's warm and slick and ...oooh ... this feels
like ...tits and ... ahhh, a in here"
"Two very important elements in a male sex fantasy,
I'm sure you'll agree. Sensors and
nano-servo-mechanisms can adjust the organs to various
size, hardness, temperature, slipperiness, tightness,
etc. The "pussy," -- that's the default setting for
the penis receptacle -- can also become an "ass," a
"mouth" or a "hand" of various dimensions and
genders."
"Genders?" No way!"
"We're very thorough, Mr. Frusten. Now drink this
before you put on the face piece."
"What's that?"
"A small dose of hypnohol. You need to be very
suggestible for the period of the examination in order
to react fully to each fantasy scenario as it's
presented."
<gulp> And the face piece? Wow! That stuff is ...
goooood"
Well your mouth will also experience contact with
"breasts," "asses," "tummies," "clitties," and "lips"
of both types."
"Mrmpffg?"
"Now just relax as the psychopornogram takes you
through a simulated reading of all 735,451,837 - wait,
I see my "Chloe and Mom: Conclusion" and "Fantasy
Aftermath" have just been posted -- 735,451,839
stories on ASSM."
"Mghrkdv!"
"Exactly."
******
A few hours later, the same small brown in the
same expensive but ill-fitting suit again was sitting
behind the same desk, smiling benevolently at the same
man before him. "Well, for a with 'no fantasies,'
Arthur, you certainly have some doozies," the doctor
smiled. "Who would have thought? You liked a lot of
some pretty kinky stuff, but the psychopornogram went
off the charts when you hit the Frank McCoy stories."
"Frank McWho?"
"Well-known author. Writes fantasies in which
is harmless fun and granddads and granddaughters,
mothers and sons, daddies and pre-teen girls, uncles,
aunts, cousins, nieces and nephews happily fuck up a
storm, making babies out the kazoo."
"I wouldn't like that kind of trash!"
"Tell your cock that, Arthur. You came so hard you
shorted out my PPG. Clearly this is the fantasy we
need your to fulfill for you."
"But my would never fulfill an fantasy of
mine -- if I have one."
"Get your here for an appointment, Arthur, and
leave the rest to Dr. Vargas."
*****
The office and the brown and ill fitting suit were
the same, but facing him was a well put together and
very irate woman, a partially drunk cup of tea sat
before her. "I don't know what kind of a
'relationship specialist' you claim to be, Dr. Vargas,
but there is nothing wrong with Arthur's and my
'relationship' except that he continues to act like a
fourteen year boy."
"Could you elaborate, Mrs. Frusten."
"You know perfectly well what I mean," she glared,
taking a sip of tea to gather her thoughts. "All he
thinks about is sex. He pesters me for it ALL the
time. If I didn't keep him under control, he'd have
me doing it EVERY week, maybe more! And I know why.
I've explained to Arthur very clearly that we are NOT
having any more children. Since I'm not messing up my
body with artificial chemicals and I sure don't trust
HIM with condoms, he just has to be enough to
restrict himself to once a month during my safe
period."
"I see you DO have a problem."
"I should say." The next sip of tea was more of a
swig. "Besides being oversexed, I can't trust him.
He knew I'd said one child was more than enough, but
one night -- and the sneaky bastard knew just WHICH
night to choose -- he 'romanced' me -- dinner, dancing
-- and then, boom, back home he took advantage of my
having had a little too much to drink. Before I knew
it, he was kissing my and had his hand in my
puss, making me come like a cheap whore. He knows I
don't permit that! After a few orgasms I was so
addled I let him make love and, bingo, I wind up
expecting again." The woman shuddered at the memory
and sipped the tea.
"And he is so disgusting, no self control. He
masturbates! Every day it appears! I find flaky
pajamas and wadded up tissues - who does he think he's
kidding?"
"It must be very difficult, especially for a woman
like you."
"And what is THAT supposed to mean?" the woman
sputtered with barely contained rage. She took
another sip of tea to control her self. The tea was
the only good think about this wretched interview.
Quite tasty, actually. She took another sip.
"Well, Mrs. Frusten, may I call you Deborah, you are a
healthy woman approaching that period of maximum
sexual responsiveness. It must be difficult for you
to control your volcanic urges."
"'Volcanic?'" She sipped, confused.
"Yes, a deeply buried, seething desire for frequent,
hard, nasty sex, threatening to erupt at any time and
overturn your tranquil life."
"Do you mean to suggest that I ..." she took another
sip of tea, about to tell this quack just how wrong he
was when she realized that she DID occasionally have
certain ... urges, right now, in fact. "...that I
should fall into bed every time I feel a twinge of
desire."
"Certainly not Deborah! If you did, you'd spend all
your time on your back."
"What?" Could that be right? She WAS horny. It was
hard to think. "Yes, but .. I'm a grown woman, I
can't ..." Thank God for the tea. It was helping her
stay calm.
"Can't allow your self to express the constant, urgent
need for sex clawing at you -- the burning itch
between your legs, the full, tingling that
yearn to be squeezed. You can't allow your husband or
your daughters to see how horny you are all the time.
You have to fight constantly not to throw your self
down and use your fingers or a fourteen inch vibrator
to satisfy, if only fleetingly, the overwhelming need
you have to orgasm!"
The woman was fidgeting, clearly distressed. The
doctor took compassion on her. "You don't dare let
your husband and see what a cum-hungry slut
you really are, Deborah, but here it's OK. No one
will see you give in to your basic needs. You can
take off your blouse ..."
The woman looked confused, but began to unbutton her
blouse.
"That's it Deborah, remove off that thick,
constraining bra -- not the kind of bra a sexy
with a set of jugs like yours should be wearing -- and
free those big, sensitive titties.
"It's a relief, isn't it, to be able to rub, tweak and
fondle then. That's it, squeeze those babies. Pinch
your nipples, Deborah, the way you wish you could
allow Arthur to do. Feels good ... sooo good, to have
your huge felt and pawed, ... gnawed!
The woman's eyes were closed as she worked her
unremarkable furiously.
"Feeling up your is great, Deborah, but it
only gets you hotter. Your is getting so wet.
You have to do something. Better shuck that skirt.
It covers up entirely too much of those killer legs
you've got, anyway."
With no further prompting, the woman skivvied out of
the skirt and introduced first one then two, three,
and four fingers into her pussy. The first orgasm
didn't take long.
After a few minutes of watching the buxom matron
pleasuring herself on his couch, the doctor smiled
with satisfaction. "Would this help, Mrs. Frusten?"
He held out a large humming phallus shaped object.
"God, yes! Gimme that thing," the frothing woman
gasped, practically snatching the vibrator from the
doctor. Soon she was again moaning as she fucked
herself into a frenzy.
"Debbie? Debbie?" the doctor replied after a few
minutes.
Reluctantly, the woman slowed and finally stopped
frigging herself. Opening her eyes, she gazed at the
smiling brown man. How much her orgasmed-out brain
processed of what she saw and heard was debatable.
"Debbie, Debbie, sweetheart, a sexy little like
you doesn't have to use your fingers or a vibrator to
get the sexual pleasure you need so badly," the kindly
man explained
"Girl?"
"Of course, Debbie. It's natural for a over-developed
ten-year to be frustrated, seeing and hearing
Daddy fucking or your big every night.
He probably just doesn't realize how much his 'little
Debbie' has grown. You'll have to think of something
to get his attention if you want him to start pleasing
his little with that big prick of his."
"But, I'm ... a woman?" she replied, confused.
"Well, yes, technically, letting your Josh
take you cherry last year did make you a woman and I'm
sure he'd like to help you, but the twins and his home
room teacher keep him pretty busy. And besides,
twelve-year just don't have the stamina or
the size of cock that your hungry little needs,
Debbie. If you put your mind to it, I'm sure you can
get Daddy to fuck his 'baby girl.'"
"I don't know how."
"You will, Debbie, sweetheart. Now if you'll just
drop those and step into this machine ..."
*****
A few weeks later, the same small brown in the
same expensive but ill-fitting suit sat behind the
same desk smiling benevolently at the same before
him. This time the was smiling back.
"I can't believe the change, Dr. Vargas," the
exclaimed. "You'll never guess what she did!"
"Oh, I might, but why don't you tell me?"
"Well I waited a few days after her final session with
you and called her 'Debbie' as you told me when I
kissed her goodbye one Friday morning. She stiffened
a little -- she's always hated to be called 'Debbie,'
-- but then she giggled a little and said, 'Good bye,
Daddy.' That was strange enough, but that was nothing
compared to the way she greeted me that night."
"Go on," the doctor settled back as the told his
tale.
"Well I hardly recognized her, the way she was
dressed. She must have been scouring the thrift shops
from the other side of town to find that cheep,
ridiculously short cotton dress. I have no idea how
she managed to pull her hair into pigtails. And the
knee socks and the scruffy loafers and the blouse two
sizes too small. The image of a grown woman with a
body like Deborah packed into a school-girl outfit got
me hard instantly."
"Something that pleased her, no doubt"
"Rather! She tried to jump up into my arms and start
kissing me. Damned near knocked me over. 'Daddy, oh
Daddy,' she bubbled. 'Ya gotta see, ya gotta see!'
She released me and went to get a piece of cardboard.
'Report Card: Grade 5, Debbie McCoy,' it read. Inside
were the 'grades.'
Reading: A;
Writing: A;
Spelling: A;
Geography: A;
Arithmetic: A;
Deportment: A;
Attendance: 100%.
I just stared at the paper dumbly for a minute."
"'I did it, Daddy. Just like I told you I could. Now
you have to keep your promise.'"
"'My promise?' I asked."
"'You 'member, Daddy. You said if I got all A's all
year long, you'd get me anything I wanted for my
birfday.'"
"I was starting to catch on. 'That's wonderful,
sweetheart. I can get you that pony you've been
asking for.'"
"'Oh, silly Daddy!' she giggled. 'I don't want a
PONY.'"
"'Then what, Poopsie? By now she had led me over to
the couch."
"'Guess, Daddy,' she giggled and plunked herself into
my lap. My God! she hadn't done that since we were
first and she weighed thirty or forty pounds
less. She almost knocked the breath out of me, but I
could hardly complain. My was, so help me,
grinding her against my groin. Naturally my
hands were on her ass and she WASN'T WEARING PANTIES.
'Doncha know, Daddy? Cancha you guess what little
Debbie wants for her BIRFDAY?'"
"Well you know the rest. She pointed out that Martha
had already left for cheerleading camp, the twins had
a sleepover and that had gone with Josh to Aunt
Sue's to show her the big tummy her son had given her,
so we were all alone. I had finally figured it all
out so I let her lead me up to the bedroom -- she
wanted me to carry her -- and laid her out on the bed.
I didn't bother undressing her, just pulled up the
dress, ready to dive into that delicious bush I
remembered from too long ago, when I got my final
shock. Her was bare!
"I was so turned on, I almost stuck it to her right
then; she looked wet enough. I guessed she had been
frigging herself to get ready for me. But I played my
part. I made her 'little feel good' with my
tongue a few times. God, she was hot; came buckets in
my mouth. She even pleaded with me to 'be gentle'
with my 'big cock' in her 'baby pussy,' but wasn't. I
had years of frustration to get out of my system and I
fucked the bitch as hard as I could. I did remember
to tell her how tight my baby was, which was
pretty true considering how seldom she'd been letting
me fuck her."
"I thought I was in heaven, at last, fucking my sexy
wife and her responding passionately, orgasming
repeatedly on my cock. I had forgotten the other part
until she started in. 'Oh, Daddy! Are you going to
do it? Are you going to knock up your baby girl?
You're so big in me! Are you going to squirt little
Debbie full of your potent baby juice? My period was
just too weeks ago, Daddy; I think I'm ready. Do you
want to get me pregnant, Daddy? Do you want to see
little Debbie's tummy get big and fat like Mommy?
Will you suck milk from my big boobies like Josh does
her?'"
"I was fucking her with everything I had, sweating
like a pig, about to explode. 'Yes, Daddy, yes. I
feel you swelling up in me. Come in me, Daddy. Give
me a babyyyyyyyyyyyy!' She screamed one final orgasm
and I erupted into her. I fell off of her and she
scoonched over next to me but stayed on her back. I
remembered about keeping the in it in where it
would 'do her the most good' and helped her put a
pillow under her butt. Of course I couldn't pass up
the opportunity to eat more of that sweet shaved
again and make her come several more times, I was so
wound up.
"'Little Debbie' was insatiable that weekend and
insisted that I fuck her again and again 'to make sure
she had a 'happy BIRFday.' I always 'got her little
pussy ready' for my 'big cock' by eating her bald
snatch and from the way the woman was juicing and the
clear sticky precum that met my tongue even before I
started working her up, I didn't doubt she was fertile
that night. And I shot, squirted, pumped, and
unloaded enough semen into her those three nights and
two days to impregnate a whole fifth grade class of
horny school-girls, even more one sexy woman in her
prime.
"Little Debbie kissed me goodbye on Monday morning,
thanking me for giving her an early morning load of
spunk to 'warm her little pussy, while she was at
school' but when I came home that evening, the
sexually precocious who wanted Daddy to fuck her
was gone. In her place was Deborah, but a totally
different Deborah. Instead of a sexless harridan, I
found a beautiful, voluptuous woman intent on seducing
her husband. She had been shopping again and this
time not at the Salvation Army thrift store. A woman
in a short, tight skirt, see-through blouse,
impossibly high heels and hightops, perfectly made up,
perfumed and coiffeured came into my arms. I almost
came in my pants.
"To say she was in an amorous mood was to say the
Yankees on opening day were ready to play baseball.
Her tongue was in my mouth and her arms pulled me
tight against her bra-less breasts. My hands easily
slid up under the skirt to find her bare ass cheeks.
Closer examination, aided by the way she wiggled her
butt in my palms, revealed there was a thong there,
but barely.
A fancy dinner was ready, but it didn't get eaten. I
led her to bed where she gave me the satisfaction of
undressing her, kissing her sexy figure inch by
delicious inch as I disrobed her. A flood of
commentary about much I loved each luscious part of
her glorious body poured out. I saved for last
removing the silly pretense of a thong from her pussy.
I had never seen it warmer, wetter, and more
inviting. She spread her legs and let me plunge in.
Something seemed odd, but I was so overwhelmed by the
sexiness of her slit, I happily plunged in.
I must say, nice as it was to play out my little
fantasy, I actually enjoyed making love to my adult
wife that night even better. I told her how much I
loved her, adored her, as we fucked and afterward as
we held each other close, and before we started up
again. She told me she loved me, too, and intended to
let me see just how much.
"I woke up with my head between her plump legs, my
tongue joyfully fighting its way through her steamy
jungle toward the temple that lay within. I
had eaten her to three orgasms and fucked her to a
fourth and fifth when I finally realized what was
wrong. I never eat pussy!"
"Well, Mr. Frusten, I AM a relationships counselor and
I did explain that the key to a hot marriage is to
bring about a 'convergence' of fantasies. The weekend
was your fantasy, mainly; the next night was mostly
hers.
"But that's not what I ..."
"You've got a hot, sexy, probably knocked up wife,
Arthur. What part of 'lucky bastard' don't you
understand? You'll be getting my bill shortly."
Epilogue:
In a large suburban house, far away from the small
brown in the expensive but ill-fitting suit
sitting behind a desk, a curvy woman in pigtails and a
cheep short cotton dress had her arms around her
bewildered husband. "You did it Daddy! You made your
baby pregnant," she gushed, waiving an EPT.
"Iddn't it cool, Daddy? My little tummy is gonna get
sooo big and all the other in my class are gonna
be sooo jealous of my boobies. Do 'ya think you could
have put more than one in me, huh, Daddy? You sure
tried! <giggle> Wouldn't that be funny, Daddy, if you
gave little Debbie two or three babies and Josh could
gave and Martha only one? I can hardly wait
'til I have this baby, Daddy. Know why?
The grinned, "No, why, Poopsie?"
"Oh, you know why, Daddy! So you can start making our
baby a little or to fuck. How many of
your babies do you think I can have before I finish
High School, Daddy."
"Deborah! Deborah!"
The woman shook head, looked down at her attire, then
at the man, and smiled.
"As many as you want, my love," he replied as he
kissed his wife.
The End
Comments Please to:
Homer Vargas
vargas111@yahoo.com
=====
My are now found on
http://www.storiesonline.net (Thanks Lazeez)
http://www.eroticstories.com (Thanks, Art)
http://www.asstr.org/~Vargas/stories.html (Thanks Kristen)