Ever since I was a little girl I, Amy, wanted to be a Mom. I played with dolls every day, my large ornate dollhouse was my best present ever, I loved babysitting for neighborhood or family kids, and I was unabashedly feminine. I guess that I was a throwback. I honestly -- I cannot repeat this more -- honestly am proud of all of the women who are great athletes and those who have phenomenal careers like doctors, lawyers, Senators, CEOs, etc. I'm just not built that way, and I couldn't change if I wanted to.

Even though I'm not an athlete I am genetically slim, and have really nice brunette hair. The only regular exercise I do is walking and Kegel exercises (the latter virtually every day). I'm not really that good looking, and don't have really big boobs (although I do have nice puffy nipples) or a bubble butt, but I have an open and friendly face, dancing blue-green eyes, and natural femininity. At the real start of this story I was twenty and worked as a teller in a bank.

At twenty one I married Justin Boston, a guy that I had gone to community college with and who I seemed to be very compatible with. I really thought that I loved him -- but I may have loved the idea of marriage and having a family more than him, even though I know that in hindsight that wasn't fair to him. He wanted to hold off having kids for a few years, but when we were both almost twenty four years old I talked him into starting a family. When I wasn't pregnant after six months -- my Mom was very fertile and given her seven kids I think that she got pregnant just when my father lasciviously looked at her -- I experienced a mild panic. I talked Justin into going in for fertility testing with me.

Justin was at a weekend golf outing with some friends a few states away when I was at the clinic and got the results. He had a normal sperm count but I had fibroids located in my uterus in a place which made it unlikely that I could conceive. Fibroids can only be identified as the single cause of infertility in 2-3% of cases; unfortunately I was one of the "lucky" ones. I was told that my fibroids were such they would adversely impact the movement of the egg, embryo, or sperm through my reproductive organs so even artificial insemination wasn't an option.

I was so distraught that I had to call two friends to come together to pick me up; one drive me home from the clinic, and the other my car. I called Justin on his cellphone. When I reached him and cried into the phone he was sympathetic -- somewhat. I begged him to come home but his clinical approach of "If it would change things I would -- but I paid in advance for this trip and nothing I can do will help" was disheartening. I pretended that I would be OK for the forty eight hours until his return, but I wasn't.

After wallowing in self-pity for the better part of twelve hours I bitch-slapped myself and said "Do something." What I did was to look up other doctors/clinics to make arrangements to get more opinions, and searched the Internet until I was too exhausted to see. What I didn't do is answer the phone when Justin's cell number was on caller ID.

When Justin got home he was a little sheepish -- but not as much as he should have been. He tried to smooth things over, but I was blunt in response. "You know that being a mother has been the most important thing to me since I was four or five years old. You needed to be more sensitive. I accept your apology but you have to get more compassionate or else."

"Or else what?" he asked, this time with an appropriate amount of sheepishness.

"You'll find out; I'll start dinner," was my emotionless reply.

***************

Over the next two weeks I got second, third, and fourth opinions. Unfortunately they were all approximately the same, and surgery was not a good option according to those three opinions (I was too distraught to have even asked the first doctor about surgery). As I dissolved into tears at the fourth doctor's office he did his best to comfort me, and asked his nurse to help me recover before leaving. After he left Nurse Laverne had some advice.

"Amy, Dr. Burton wouldn't tell this to you because he is loath to recommend any technically non-medical alternatives. But, if you're interested, I can give you information about a consultant who has been successful in some cases like yours," Laverne said while patting my shoulder.

I immediately perked up -- "any port in a storm" flashed through my head. My tears almost instantly dried up as I enthusiastically beseeched "Please tell me more Laverne."

"Well there's a consultant who -- if his approach is right for you -- has had success. For the six people I've sent to him, one he told he couldn't help, two weren't interested after they talked to him, and three are now proud mothers of healthy kids. I know he's had lots of other women he's consulted with, but the only results-information that I have is with the six that I recommended," she replied with a sincere look.

"Do you have his card?" I excitedly gulped.

"Just a second -- while you finish getting dressed I'll get one," she smiled.

I dressed quickly, and by the time that I was ready to leave she was back. The card read:

"Babymaking, LLC; Consultants

Sean Platte, General Manager

Call xxx-xxx-xxxx for a free initial consultation

Check out our services and limitations on our website --------."

"Thanks," I gushed as I gave Laverne a big hug, and then hurried out as her brilliant smile beamed the way.

***************

I checked out the website as soon as I got home. There were lots of disclaimers, including -- repeated at least five times including once in grossly large print -- that Babymaking LLC was not a medical facilitate, offered no medical services, and did not accept medical insurance. The caveats didn't faze me and the information about the possibilities intrigued me; I was especially intrigued that his treatment was considered a trade secret and that I would have to sign a confidentiality agreement to not tell anyone the details of the treatment (although I could the results). I called for an appointment as soon as I finished reading the entire website.

I got an appointment in the early a. m. before work two days after my call; I was hopeful but apprehensive as I entered a standard glass and steel suburban office building. As I walked along the first floor I passed a law office and "Child-Brite Furniture, Inc." before I got to the door that said "Babymaking LLC."

The young gum-chewing, but well put-together, receptionist (her nameplate read "Dante"), who had obviously just arrived herself and hadn't yet had a cup of coffee, lifted the phone. I heard her say "Mrs. Boston is here to see you -- should I sent her in?"

Three seconds later the door to the inner office opened and out walked a guy who couldn't have been more than thirty years old who said "Hi Amy; I'm Sean Platte; please come in."

I was really taken aback by Sean's appearance. He looked like a professional athlete, well over six feet tall, curly blond hair, piercing blue eyes, biceps bulging outside his short sleeve shirt, and pectorals readily visible under the shirt. His hand was like iron and soft at the same time as he shook mine.

I was surprised that Sean's office was very large, seemed to have another entrance, and had all sorts of child-specific stuff. I sat across from Sean's desk and we chatted about nothing for a few minutes, obviously Sean's attempt to settle me down. He was probably used to the wide-eyed look that I must have had when I first saw him. Then he got to the point.

"So, Amy -- why are you here?" he asked in a professional manner.

"I've been told that I can't conceive because of uterine fibroids -- one of the 3% or so of women who have them to such an extent that they adversely affect the movement of all conception elements through my passageways," I responded.

"Do you have an ultrasound or any other images?" Sean asked.

"Yes -- I've seen them but I don't understand them," I nodded.

"Great; what I will need is your complete medical records before our next meeting. You'll have to get them yourself and have them delivered to me because since I'm not a medical professional I can't obtain them myself. After I review them I'll tell you what the chances are that I can help you."

"OK," I softly replied. "Exactly what can you do to help if I'm a candidate?"

"I find it best not to go into details at this stage. Let me just say that my techniques are unconventional. About ½ of the women that I could help decline my therapy for a number of reasons. Of the roughly ½ that accept it, almost 80% end up with a healthy baby and are capable of conception again -- in fact I've had four clients who have had two children, and one two sets of twins," he proudly proclaimed.

"I guess that it's probably not possible -- but can I possibly talk to one of the clients you've had success with?"

"Actually, there are five that are willing to share their experiences -- to a point. I've asked them not to provide details until I do, but here are their names and contact information," he continued, taking a standard size sheet of blue paper out of his desk and handing it to me. "The three with stars you can even visit if you set it up with them. I just ask that you be respectful of their time."

"Thanks," I said standing up.

"I look forward to receiving your medical records," he said with a smile, standing up himself and again shaking my hand. This time his touch sent an electric charge through my arm, down my body, to my -- well, "nether regions."

***************

I got my medical records -- including an "all clear" STD test that Sean had insisted upon -- the next week, and personally delivered them to Dante. As I was leaving a beaming attractive woman with a baby came out of Sean's office, with him close behind. Sean noticed me handing my records to Dante and perked up. "Hi Amy; while you're here meet Janice; she's one of the people on the list that I gave you. Janice, Amy -- I'm hoping that I'll be able to help her."

"Hi Amy," Janice gushed. "I hope that Sean can do for you what he did for me. This is Brian, the light of my life," she continued lifting her blond blue-eyed baby's hand.

Sean took my medical records from Dante, politely excused himself, and went back into his office. Janice walked out with me. I took the opportunity to ask her about her experience.

"Sean has asked me not to go into details at this stage; just let me say that in addition to being effective, his therapy is exceedingly pleasant. It makes me want to have another ten kids," she laughed.

"Why were you here today?" I asked.

"Sean hasn't seen Brian in two months, so I just brought him in for a quick meet," she replied with a diabolical grin on her face.

I thought that odd -- but continued with a few more questions which she candidly answered.

When we parted I had a good feeling despite being somewhat puzzled.

The next day I got a call from Dante. "After reviewing your records Sean thinks that he can help. Can you come in first thing Monday morning?"

"Sure," I replied, feeling a tingle electrifying my body.

I was there bright and early Monday morning -- Dante had obviously arrived a little earlier than last time, and had a cup of coffee on her desk. She smiled and said "Go right in."

I walked into Sean's office and he greeted me warmly, this time with a quick hug not just a handshake. He was obviously buoyant.

"Let's first talk about your ultrasound, then about therapy," he said.

While he made it clear verbally, as he had on the website, that he was not a medical professional, the way that he analyzed my medical records sure sounded like he was one (I later found out that he dropped out of medical school after 18 months). To the extent that I could understand it, I did -- his explanation was very clear. Basically while my fibroids were definitely a problem he felt that there was the possibility of success -- but that it required "perfect timing."

"Now for the part where the rubber meets the road," he chuckled.

"Wha...what does that mean?" I hesitantly inquired.

"This is the point where ½ the women that I can help bow out. I have found it best to be clear and blunt about what happens, give you some time to think about it, and form questions, and then we'll talk again. But before I continue you'll need to sign the confidentiality agreement on the website, and which we briefly discussed the first time."

"OK..." I responded having looked the confidentiality agreement on the website over several times.

Dante came in with two originals of the confidentiality agreement. I looked it over again and noticed no changes from what was on the website, then I signed both copies and Dante notarized my signature. She gave one copy to me, and Sean put the other in a file on his desk. After Dante left he got down to brass tacks.

"My therapy is literally hands on. I have special techniques and creams that I use to relax your uterus, and then I impregnate you in the old fashioned way," he said as he handed me his "all clear" STD test. "It is necessary to time my therapy so that I practice it on the three consecutive days when you are absolutely the most fertile. Therefore I need to determine those dates, and to be sure you need to come in for a quick evaluation about five or six days in a row -- unless we get lucky."

I was a little stunned. "You...you...impregnate me, not my husband?" I croaked out.

"That's normally the sticking point. It can only be done with me -- it of course depends upon your relationship with your husband, how badly you want your own baby, and other factors, whether or not you want to proceed," was his deadpan reply.

"Uh...well...what...uh...percentage of the ½ that accept the therapy are married?" I stammered, my mouth suddenly dry.

"About half of them; Janice is one example. After you leave here talk with her again about her relationship with her husband and his relationship with Brian," was his nonchalant reply. Then he continued "Unless you reject this outright then you need to take some papers with you to look over." After a pregnant pause he asked "Do you want to take them with you?"

"Uh...sure," I replied, not knowing what else to say.

As I got ready to leave Sean hugged me again -- this time a real hug, not a brief one like when he greeted me. Looking down at me, staring eye-to-eye, he said "I know that I can help you...please let me."

I was completely spaced out when Dante handed me the papers in a sealed envelope. I'm not really sure how I got to work, and one of my co-workers had to give me a pep talk to allow me to perform at least somewhat normally.

*****************

I had lots to think about. I was kind of in a stupor for four days. Then I approached the situation as clinically and intelligently as I could.

--I talked to all five women on Sean's list, four of whom were married, one the woman with the two sets of twins that Sean had told me about. All of them could not possibly be more positive. Three of the four married women expressed some feelings of guilt and regret that their husbands were not the biological fathers of their kids, but all husbands were thrilled that they had kids because they never thought that they would. None suspected anything "hinky." I also visited each of their children -- who all seemed to be a joy. "Really good genes," Janice chuckled.

--I interacted as much as possible with Justin and objectively examined our relationship to the extent possible. I came to the conclusion that I didn't have anything close to mad passionate love for him. I actually felt badly when I recognized for the first time in my life that I was much more concerned with having kids than with a traditional, or even happy, marriage.

--I carefully examined my own feelings. Every woman would find Sean physically attractive. Was this just an excuse to cheat? I thought not.

--I looked over the documents carefully, and had an attorney who was an old friend of our family -- and who I trusted implicitly -- look over them too. My friendly attorney told me what I already knew -- the documents exonerated Sean from any child support or other liability in a clever way that had an 80% chance of being legal, required my complete secrecy, and what might be a problem for me required a payout of $1,000 to start treatment and $10,000 if I had got pregnant and $10,000 more if I delivered a healthy baby.

It took me a month to evaluate things and come to a decision. Sean called me on my cell phone once a week; he didn't pressure me. He just asked if I had any questions. I liked the sound of his voice and looked forward to his calls.

I called Sean's office the very day that I decided that I wanted to go through with it. I got an appointment for two days hence.

After another big hug I posed my problem. "Sean -- I want to go through with it; but I'm not sure that I can pay the money required without my husband finding out."

"How much can you pay?" he quietly asked.

"$1,000 now, of course, but $5,000 if I get pregnant and $5,000 more when I deliver," I hesitantly replied.

Sean thought for a minute; then what he said surprised me. "Amy, one thing I have rarely told anyone; but I love sex with a pregnant woman. If you agree that if you get pregnant that outside of our agreement we have intercourse once a week during your pregnancy -- health considerations controlling -- I can agree to it. Of course we can't put that in writing, but it will be our understanding."

I was blown away -- could an Adonis like Sean really want to fuck me?

"OK," I responded.

"Great," he smiled. "What is your belief about where you are in your period?"

"If everything is normal I'll ovulate two days from now," I replied; my periods are normally pretty regular and on a standard 28 day cycle.

"Let's check," he said. "Please move your panties to the side or take them off."

I quickly took them off.

Sean took a device with a meter and probe out of his desk. Without exposing my pussy he fingered me gently until I got wet, then inserted the sterilized soft probe into my vagina. After about two minutes he had a reading. "From this it looks like you're dead on. Just to be safe we should test again tomorrow and the next day."

I came in the next two mornings, with the same testing procedure. The second day Sean confirmed my ovulation. He smiled. "We have to arrange a time tomorrow at my apartment -- less than a mile away. We need an hour. What works for you?"

"7:00 a. m. OK?" I replied, in an automaton voice.

"Sure is," he smiled.

**********************

I was somewhere between anxious, frantic, doubting myself, hopeful, and excited when I arrived at Sean's apartment at 6:57 the next morning. I had made sure that I had showered, shaved (including my crotch), and spruced up. While this was not a romantic encounter, there was no reason not to look my best.

My angst almost immediately started to slip away when Sean responded to my knock on his door with a big smile, a warm "How great to see you Amy," and a big hug as he ushered me inside his apartment. His living area and kitchen were tastefully decorated, except for some child care items inexplicably hidden behind a couch.

He served me a cup of tea and lightly touched my hand as we chatted. Once it appeared to him that I had relaxed he ushered me into what was obviously a second bedroom. Inside an otherwise sterile room was a contraption that looked like a comfortable padded birthing chair except that it was tilted backwardly so that someone sitting in it would have their vaginal passage extending downwardly, and it clearly was adjustable since pneumatic cylinders were on the sides. A small table with what looked to be creams or lotions, a hollow object with a large end and small end, and a thin rubbery-looking phallus, sat next to one of the footrests.
Sean clinically explained the operation, and then put a clean sheet over all of what he called the "impregnation chair" except for the widely spaced footrests. "Just to reiterate, this is an impregnation event, not a sexual encounter, although both of us hopefully will have a pleasant physical experience. The only purpose, however, is impregnation."

I nodded my head, my angst suddenly starting to return.

"You can either disrobe completely or, since you have a flowing dress on, just remove your panties. Also, I have a blindfold that you can use and it is recommended for at least the first impregnation event," he continued, waving a black blindfold in a plastic wrapper back and forth in his right hand.

I removed my shoes and panties, not my dress or bra. Sean helped me into the contraption, I accepted the blindfold which he put on me, and then in response to his encouragement and stroking of my feet, then calves, then thighs, I again started to relax.

"I'm now going to touch your vagina and apply creams," he softly said. I flinched slightly at his first touch, but then settled down trying to think clinically and not be particularly aroused. However, it appeared that some stimulation was necessary for the procedure since after a few minutes of applying creams and massaging my inner labia he said "I'm going to arouse you somewhat now, which is necessary for the rest of the procedure to work properly." That statement was almost immediately followed by his tongue flicking my clitoris.

I couldn't help but moan and groan although I tried hard to keep the volume of my sounds low. I did have a minor orgasm from his work on my clitoris -- which was accompanied by finger penetration -- but tried to squelch it the best that I could.

Since I was blindfolded I didn't really know for sure what followed next but based upon my tactile senses I thought that he put the lubricated thin flexible phallus that I saw next to the impregnation chair deep into my reproductive organs. I have exceptionally strong pelvic floor muscles from my Kegel exercises; however I felt the phallus moving past my vagina, through the cervical opening, and into the uterus. "Relax; don't squeeze your pc muscles," Sean said as he slowly manipulated the phallus with one hand and gently stroked the inside of my right thigh with the other.

The lubricant on the phallus must have been a muscle relaxant of some type because after a few minutes I felt what I suppose was my cervix and maybe even uterus ease. Sean must have recognized that too since he slowly withdrew the phallus and then what only could have been his cock entered me. His cock was obviously moving downwardly at a significant angle as he stroked in, and it was hitting my G-spot so I tightly gripped the handgrips on the sides of the impregnation chair and groaned. It felt good -- really good.

Then Sean suddenly withdrew and I sensed him fumbling with something. When his cock re-entered my vagina it appeared that there was some soft, flexible extension on it -- maybe the tube with the large and small ends that I had seen on the table. Once he was obviously where he wanted his equipment to be, and I felt something deep inside my reproductive organs, he stroked in earnest, accompanied by grunts of his own.

I instinctively squeezed my powerful pc muscles, he grunted harder, and within seconds I felt fluid being injected somewhere deep inside my reproductive organs, probably directly into my uterus. It seemed like a lot of fluid, but my brain was really fuzzy at that point due to the overpowering orgasm that consumed me, so I can't really be sure.

Shortly after my climax had obviously passed, Sean withdrew from me completely. "It came out perfectly even though you strangled me with your pc muscles," he softly and playfully chided.

I mumbled something in response, but I don't remember what.

Once I felt myself return to normal Sean gently removed my blindfold and smiled at me. "I'm going to tilt the chair back some more so that the sperm has the highest probability of successfully encountering an egg. Here's a cup of water. I'll return in five minutes," he happily said, handing me the cup of water, and after I drank it he tilted the chair backwardly some more.

I saw Sean's naked back and ass as he picked up his clothes and sauntered out of the room. They really looked nice. A shiver went up my spine.

Eventually a fully clothed Sean returned, helped me out of the chair, let me put a hand on his shoulder as I put my panties and shoes back on, and then he escorted me to my car on his way to his parking lot. I got a big hug goodbye. Just before he closed my car door I asked "Will it hurt anything if I have sex with my husband tonight."

"Absolutely not," he chimed. "It might even help. Just don't douche at any time before our next session. See you at seven sharp tomorrow morning."

It was hard to concentrate driving to work but I managed not to get into an accident. Apparently I was glowing because Tammy, my best and raunchiest co-worker, half-snickered, half-chortled "Looks like you got well-fucked this morning. I hope that you can concentrate. Let me make you a double espresso to snap you to attention."

I did get through the day OK but with a few unusual events. I had to periodically wipe a viscous fluid from my thighs, and at least half a dozen people -- some co-workers, others customers -- commented on how bright and happy I looked.

That night I do believe that I strangled Justin's cock more vigorously than ever as I rode him cowgirl. In post-coital bliss he kept mumbling "Holy shit...holy fucking shit..." before he passed out more than fell asleep. While I didn't think of Sean while I was fucking Justin, I did before I nodded off to sleep myself.

***************

The second day at Sean's apartment was almost a clone of the first, except that I was more relaxed and my orgasms even more intense.

The third day I felt naughty and wore a jumpsuit and no bra, so I had to take my clothes off completely before I got into the impregnation chair. Sean couldn't hide the shocked but pleased look on his face. Every guy who's seen my nipples has had it. I have been told that they are classic examples of large, distended, puffy nipples. I guess that despite his attempt at being clinical Sean was affected by them because I do believe that he flooded my reproductive system with 50% more fluid than the first two days.

After the third session I asked Sean for a more detailed explanation of exactly what the procedure had been. He showed me and explained the three different creams that he had used -- I was right that the one on the phallus was a combined lubricant and muscle relaxant. He showed me the extension that he put on his penis during the actual injection of seminal fluid and confirmed that the seminal fluid was sprayed directly into my uterus. He also explained how the stimulation of the uterus itself, the muscle relaxant, and the lubrication of the fallopian tubes, could result in the egg passing through a tube past my fibroids into the uterus and then into contact with the sperm."

"It seems like there was lots of seminal fluid injected," I devilishly said.

"Uh...yeah," Sean stuttered while turning red. "I'm...uh...usually pretty good at...uh...that."

"How soon can I test for pregnancy?" I asked.

"Use these a day after a missed period, and for two days hence to be sure," he said, regaining his composure and handing me three pregnancy test kits. "If you have your period call me and we'll repeat the treatment next month. If you get pregnant call me for that too, and we'll celebrate."

This time he gave me a quick kiss goodbye at my car.

My glow from my impregnation treatment lasted long after my third session with Sean. Now almost everyone was commenting about how blissful and content I looked. The bank manager even asked me to talk to a difficult elderly male customer -- something that never happened to a teller before the entire time that I had worked there -- and the previously grouchy patron actually left the bank with a smile on his face.

**************

I was optimistic that Sean's treatment worked. On the day that I was supposed to get my period but it didn't come I tried to restrain my enthusiasm. Fortunately it was a Saturday and I wasn't due to work. I decided to wait until Sunday to test.

"Why are you so hyper?" Justin asked when he got back from his Saturday morning golf game.

"Uh...I have an unexplained feeling that I might be pregnant," I gushed.

"Well the doctors said that was almost impossible so don't get your hopes up," he indifferently replied followed up immediately by "What's for lunch." Even his dispassionate attitude didn't put a wet blanket on my zest, however.

Sunday my pregnancy test indicated "+." I went into our bedroom by myself and cried tears of joy, but convinced myself I'd do the next two daily tests before I allowed myself to believe that my lifelong ambition may be coming true.

After work Monday it was almost too much to bear when another "+" registered on the test. I took the day off Tuesday knowing that I would be worthless at work if I got the third positive test. I waited until 1 p. m. before doing the test. When it too was positive I broke down into tears of joy.

I wanted to tell Justin in person -- probably on Saturday -- but I couldn't wait to tell Sean. I called his cellphone, not his office. It went to voicemail. "I have some great news," I sobbed into the phone.

Sean called me back about twenty minutes later. "Is it what I think that it is?" he cackled.

"Yes...yes...I'm pregnant! Thank you so much..." I got out before dissolving into tears." Sean seemed to be as thrilled as I was and we talked for a good fifteen minutes before he had to go.

I apparently glowed like a traffic light on the desert for the rest of the week, causing Justin, and almost everyone else that I came into contact with, to ask "What's up?"

"I'm just really happy," was my stock reply.

Justin benefited from my joy Tuesday through Friday nights when I sucked him hard and choked his cock with my pussy, rendering him virtually comatose each time.

After Justin returned from his golf game on Saturday I made him a nice lunch. He was animated -- obviously in a good mood from the exceptional sex I had delivered the last four nights and -- probably related -- because he shot an 80, one stroke off his best round ever on that course. After lunch I sat next to him on our living room couch.

"Justin -- I have some really good news," I started out while holding his hands.

"Don't keep me in suspense," he chuckled when I didn't immediately blurt it out.

"I'm pregnant!" I gushed.

There was a frightened, anxious, look on his face that was the immediate reaction to my news; he recovered from that look after a moment and forced a smile. My heart sank. We had talked before marriage about my fervent desire to have at least three kids, and he seemed completely on board. His reaction -- now just three years later -- greatly concerned me.

Justin tried his best to seem excited, as he hugged and kissed me, and I tried to pretend that I was pleased with his excitement; however I was crushed inside. For the rest of the weekend I tried to put his initial reaction out of my mind and finally convinced myself that his initial look may just have been shock and that I was reading too much into it. He certainly was trying to be bubbly Saturday night and Sunday; but my antennae were now up.

I knew of my responsibility to Sean since I couldn't pay him the $10,000 upon my pregnancy, and had mixed feelings about fulfilling it. He obviously was a sexy man -- maybe the most sexy in my experience -- and his joy at my pregnancy was real. But I wondered if I was in fact being a prostitute, or at least a slut, in agreeing to the deal.

With great apprehension two weeks after I found out that I was pregnant with my in-home tests (subsequently confirmed by my OB/GYN) I was at Sean's apartment door at 7 a. m. God he looked good when he answered -- however it was clear that he sensed my apprehension.

After we had a cup of tea and enthusiastically talked about my pregnancy and he gave advice on a few issues that I hadn't thought of despite my in-depth reading on the subject, I pulled $1,000 in cash from my purse and handed it to him. "Here's $1,000; uh...I...I was hoping that I could pay off what I owe you in installments," I sheepishly said.

"Sure, no problem," he smiled putting the money in a pouch without counting it.

"Uh...but...I'm having second thoughts about our agreement," I stammered, trying to avoid eye contact.

We had a ten minute conversation where he indicated understanding and assured me that he wouldn't hold me to the agreement for preggo sex -- but that I really did then owe him $10,000, not $5,000; and that he had to hold me to the contract.

I finally mumbled out "I understand my commitment -- and I'm so grateful to you; I'll find some way to raise the money in the next few months."

As I was getting up to leave Sean had an expression on his face that was hard to read -- although it obviously had a sincere element to it. He then took off his T-shirt and dropped his sweat shorts -- the only two items of clothing that he had on -- as he said "It's too bad, though. You have the strongest pc muscles and best nipples of any woman I've ever had contact with -- and the most intense and desirable pregnancy glow of all time."

Since I had been blindfolded during impregnation I got a look at his cock and balls for the first time. He cock was thin but really long -- maybe it just looked thin because it was so long just like tall people look thin because they are so tall. However there was no doubt that it was rock hard, nor that his testicles were massive ("that must be why he produced such a large volume of jism" flashed through my brain).

I just stared at him dumbfounded for a length of time that I couldn't determine. His cock started twitching. He slowly approached me. He gave me a passionate kiss while his cock poked my belly. Then he lifted me up and without objection on my part carried me into his master bedroom, expertly gently but quickly removed my clothes, sucked on one of my puffy nipples until there was no possibility that I could reject him, and then put me on my hands and knees on his bed.

It took him a while to bury himself balls deep in my snug pussy, massaging my ass or a puffy nipple as he did so. Once buried, however, he became a dynamo. The almost clinical, measured, penetration during the impregnation process was replaced by animalistic lust. I responded in kind by banging back, pulsing my pc muscles, and putting a hand between my legs to stroke his low hanging colossal balls each time they swung between my legs as he pumped in and out.

Our essentially synchronous orgasms were as gargantuan as his testicles. I screamed and collapsed my head and arms on his bed as my pc muscles strangulated every last ounce of cum out of his dick. Somehow we ended up next to each other with him sucking one puffy nipple and pinching the other while I fondled his ball sac.

After we exchanged smiles and expressions of lustful satisfaction he got serious. "I'm sorry if you're going to regret that I seduced you Amy. I will have no regrets, however. That was definitely in the top ten of fucks in my life -- maybe even number one; and if you will continue with me it will only get better as you progress in your pregnancy -- I promise."

"Let me have a few days to mull it over," I mumbled in reply, swiftly kissing his lips between each word.

"I'd love a repeat today -- but I have a client in a half hour and have to get my ass in gear," he smiled. I looked at the clock -- it was 8:30. I couldn't believe that I had been there an hour and a half.

"I'm not sure that I can get up yet," I groaned, "it feels like my spine is a wet noodle."

"Just close up when you leave," he smiled after he kissed me one last time. He jumped up, took the quickest shower I had ever seen, hurriedly dressed, kissed me goodbye, and was out the door within fifteen minutes.

I lay in bed stunned for another fifteen or twenty minutes -- fortunately I didn't have to get to work until 9:30 that day -- but finally did drag my ass out of bed. I didn't have time to bathe, so with no shower I had a constant reminder of the over-the-top sex of the morning as cum periodically ran down my inner thigh.

*******************

A lot happened in the next five months:

-I really started to show.

-My libido -- already slightly above normal -- morphed into being significantly above normal.

-Sean and I continued to have sex once a week at his apartment. It got even better.

-After being interested in sex the first two months of my pregnancy Justin's interest waned considerably despite the fact that I tried to initiate it more often than in the past. By the fourth month of my pregnancy it was rare that we had sex, and without my relationship with Sean I would have gone nuts.

-Both passively, and by his actions, Justin exhibited less and less interest in being a father.

-Despite troubles at home, the fact that a baby was growing in my belly made me constantly upbeat and personable. That translated into a position as head of public outreach at the bank I worked for, and a significant pay raise.

-When leaving Sean's apartment one day shortly before my fifth month of pregnancy I saw a sign indicating two efficiency apartments for rent in his complex. I went to see the resident manager. One was ready for immediate occupancy and was within sight of Sean's from door; the other needed about three weeks' worth of work and was on the first floor two buildings over and not visible from Sean's apartment.

-I examined my feelings for Justin. I still liked him and the infrequent sex with him was satisfying but there is no way that I viewed him as a potentially good father, and that was a deal-breaker for me.

-It would have been easy to fall in love with Sean but my pragmatic side prevented me from doing so. I reasoned that there was no way -- despite his obvious high level of satisfaction with our sexual encounters -- that a stud like him could fall for me; plus how could I have a committed relationship with him given his profession of fathering children.

*************

After an especially rewarding weekly sexual session with Sean one Wednesday morning I talked with him about the apartment. I asked him if he had any objection to me moving to the efficiency in his complex that was remote from his unit. "Why would you do that -- are you getting divorced?" he inquired.

"Probably I am; I just don't see Justin as a father, and I'd rather be a single Mom than have a poor father figure for my child. Plus I don't think that he gives a shit about me anymore," I dispassionately replied.

I thought I heard Sean mumble "Stupid shit," but it was under his breath and I wasn't sure.

"I have no objection to you moving there. In fact we should probably exchange keys so that if there is something that one of us needs done the other can help out -- and since your bank is only about a mile from my office we might be able to ride to work together some days," he replied trying to sound nonchalant, but I thought that I detected a hint of enthusiasm in his voice.

"Good -- I'll put a refundable deposit down on the place," I responded. I did just that when I left his apartment that morning.

I got all of my ducks in a row for dealing with Justin and when I was told that the apartment would be ready the next Saturday, Friday night I met with him.

"Justin; let's be frank. You have no interest in being a father; being a mother is the most important thing to me, more important than being a wife; we've drifted significantly apart since my pregnancy; and I see no reason for us to continue as a married couple," I started out.
Justin started to say something, but I held up my hand with a "stop" motion.

"Let me finish," I nicely said. Then I handed him a sheet of paper. "For the divorce division of assets and responsibilities, this is what I propose: As you can see I ask for no child support or alimony despite the fact that you make 25% more than I do; I only want a few pieces of furniture and $35,000 in cash aside from my personal possessions; and you will be solely responsible for the lease on our apartment until it's up in two months."

Justin was clearly startled but mumbled, "OK -- let me look this over."

I sat quietly as he thrice reviewed the sheet of paper with the division of assets and responsibilities that I had given him. He was obviously pleased with my proposal from the financial standpoint since in a contested divorce he would be hit much, much harder. He made a perfunctory attempt at forestalling the divorce. "You know that I don't really want this, Amy, even though you have become more distant since you got pregnant," he said.

"Actually Justin, you're the one who has become more distant. You've avoided sex five out of the last seven times I've tried to initiate it, you look either bored or pained whenever I talk about the baby, and whatever interest you had in being a father before we were married you have obviously lost," I replied without acrimony.

He shrugged his shoulders and responded "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," I instantly retorted.

"Where will you live?"

"I can move into an efficiency apartment in the Canterbury complex on Harmon Street this weekend."

His eyebrows raised and fell. He thought a few moments more and then said "OK," and seeing me reach for a 10x13 inch manila envelope asked "Where do I sign?"

And so my marriage ended with a whimper instead of a boom. There being no contested issue the divorce would be final in about four months, just before the time that the baby was due.

Later than afternoon I went to my new apartment to accept delivery of my new queen size bed and bedding, easy chair, and TV. Justin and I had an amicable dinner out together that night that he paid for. Despite the fact that he had shown little interest in me sexually for the last six weeks when we got back to the apartment he asked "Can we have sex one more time?"

"I didn't think that you were interested," I smugly replied.

"Hard to believe, but now that I'm losing you I am -- I even regret signing the papers which I know you already mailed to your attorney," he sighed.

"Let's go out with a bang then," I smiled. For some reason I felt the need to make our last experience one that he wouldn't forget, and when I cleaned off his cock with my mouth after the second fuck and he fell asleep, I congratulated myself in accomplishing my purpose.

Justin even helped me move in on Sunday, but that was the last that I saw of him, except in passing and for our one and only court appearance during which he appeared hopeful even if not happy.

**************

At his insistence, Sean and I did exchange keys to our apartments. The second week after I moved in the reason he was so anxious to do so became clear. I was sound asleep on a Thursday night now almost at the start of my third trimester when I felt a body next to me in my bed. I flinched and likely would have screamed until I heard "It's me, Sean; I was lonely and needed to cuddle you."

I was able to calm down quickly, although my heart was still beating a little fast. "You bastard, I almost prematurely delivered," I snickered.

After a few minutes it was clear that Sean was not there just to cuddle when his hard naked dick started pushing between my legs from the rear as we snuggled. "You bastard," I mumbled again as with my passive assistance he pulled my nightie up over my shoulders and then fucked my brains out in a spoon position while simultaneously massaging my tits, the first time that we had ever used that position. I was too tired to participate much aside from a few squeezes of my pc muscles but that didn't hamper either his or my enjoyment. I ended up getting a great night's sleep and just chuckled when he wasn't there the next morning.

As my pregnancy advanced I actually started to feel even better -- apparently pregnancy agreed with me not just emotionally but physically. Sean was a very big help. We stopped my morning visits to his apartment, but he made late night visits to mine normally three times a week and usually stayed until the next morning. Also we spent most of the day Sunday together -- including a morning fuck before activities, and usually two fucks in two different preggo positions late afternoon and early evening. About two weeks into this new practice/relationship he returned my $5,000 to me and got perturbed when I initially resisted taking it back -- but since I definitely could use $5,000 and he was insistent I accepted it.

Sean also volunteered to go to natural childbirth classes with me. I had planned on having my mother accompany me, but he was insistent and since it was his daughter too so I figured why should I deny him even though it did make it

more difficult not to fall in love with him?

**************

I made the one and only court appearance for my divorce when I was a little over eight months pregnant, and quite large although my OB/GYN told me that I had gained the perfect amount of weight to be healthy yet readily capable of losing it after I delivered. My attorney advised me to talk to Justin beforehand -- and I agreed that it was a great idea to do so although perhaps for additional reasons aside from what my attorneys were.

In the witness room right outside the courtroom I calmly said to him "Justin just so the judge doesn't screw up our settlement and require child support when he sees me in my present condition, if he makes any noise about it I intend to tell him that the baby isn't yours. I wanted to let you know that ahead of time so that you don't freak out if I tell him that."

He had a startled look on his face. "Is it not mine?" he asked.

I was prepared for his question and gave him a practiced response that would satisfy him and that wasn't an actual lie. "What?" I chuckled. "Are you really asking me that? That's funny. I'm just going to tell him that so that he doesn't try and award child support despite our agreement to the contrary, and not for any other reason." Then I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and smiled "You're dear. But if you'd rather pay child support then I can say that you're the deadbeat dad," I laughed.

My well-rehearsed response had the desired effect. "No -- if he asks please tell him the kid's not mine," Justin laughed in reply.

"You have to look distraught when I do it, though -- otherwise he might not believe me," I chuckled.

"OK -- I can act," he answered. Then we put our serious faces on as we walked into the courtroom; he waited 60 seconds after I entered with my attorney before he came in.

The judge did ask about the baby, I did truthfully answer that Justin wasn't the father, and Justin did act distraught, so exactly the settlement that we had agreed to was entered as part of the divorce decree.

I was actually happy for Justin when after we exited the courthouse I saw him meet up with a woman about our age and they walked away arm-in-arm.

**********

By natural birth I delivered a healthy, happy, six pound eleven ounce little girl that I named (after consultation with Sean) Bethany one day after my due date. Both Sean and my Mom were in the delivery room -- they had met once before although I hadn't yet told my Mom that he was Bethany's biological father.

I took the two months of allowed maternity leave from my job -- I hadn't taken any before the delivery I felt so good. My Mom helped out for a week, one of my sisters another week, and another sister a third week. Sean came around frequently causing my family members' eyebrows to rise. "He's just a friend," was my mantra.

"Well you're a fucking fool if you don't try to turn that friend into relationship material," was the common response of both of my sisters, and obviously what my Mom was thinking although she never said it aloud. The younger of my helpful sisters even remarked "If I wasn't happily married I'd fuck his dick off!"

"Don't spoil it for me," laughingly danced through my brain when she said that, but I remained mute and just smiled.

I found a health club where I could bring Bethany if Sean, my Mom, or a trusted elderly woman (Eleanor Pritchard) in our complex who was usually happy to babysit, couldn't take her, and was proud to be back to my pre-pregnancy weight and shape within about four months. Sean and I resumed our sexual relationship about two months after I delivered, and although we were cautious at first it soon turned into no-holds-barred fuck fests. I never felt better in my life than when his cock was in my mouth -- unless it was stroking in and out of my pussy.

About five months after Bethany was born on a Wednesday Sean came to me and said "Amy -- can you have your Mom or Mrs. Pritchard look after Bethany Saturday morning. I want to take you out to the country; it's supposed to be a beautiful late spring day, mid-70s and sunny. Just express some breast milk from those astounding puffy nipples of yours, and leave it with them for Bethany's lunch."

"Sure -- what are we going to do?" I chirped.

"Let's just wait for then," he replied.

I had an ominous feeling. I knew that Sean had a sexual/romantic relationship with Dante and of course was still running, as far as I knew, Babymaker LLC, so I was afraid that he was going to terminate our relationship.

Despite Sean ringing my chimes as well as ever that Thursday night, I felt a black cloud hanging over me as we drove out to the country with a picnic lunch in the trunk. Sean was upbeat -- I was trying to fake being upbeat myself, although probably not succeeding. Once we took a walk around a pristine lake, and had consumed our picnic lunch, we sat face-to-face on our blanket.

"I have several important things to tell or ask you," he started out, for the first time indicating some nervousness. I nodded my head.

"I haven't accepted any new customers for Babymaker LLC for the last four months. Also, it has been sued by one of my customers who wants child support. I intend to settle the suit and then put the LLC out of business," he started out.

"What will you do for a profession then?" I asked.

"Well...I never told you before but Babymaker LLC was actually a side business. While I did make some money from it I primarily did it to help desperate women out," he replied.

"Not for the sex?" I giggled.

"No...except for you and Janice I never had sex with any customer outside the impregnation process, and with Janice it was only a handful of times. For most customers the impregnation process wasn't sexual to me."

That surprised me a little.

"Anyway, my main business is Child Brite Furniture," he continued.

"You mean the office right next to Babymaker?" I responded, a light bulb suddenly illuminating my brain. "Is that why you always had the second entrance to your office and all that baby stuff in your office and even your apartment?"

"Yes," he laughed. "I invented most of that 'stuff' as you call it, and sell some online but most I've patented and licensed to three different manufacturers, including the crib, playpen, changing table, and stimulating mobiles that I gave you before Bethany was born."

"No shit," I mused.

"No shit," he laughed again. "Anyway, I've make lots of money with Child Brite and since I have few expenses I've saved a lot too. I recently purchased a big house in a suburb and will be moving out of the Canterbury complex next month."

Suddenly a feeling of dread came over me. My lip started quivering. "But Sean, I...I...I need to have at least one more kid, desirably two. If you're not running Babymaker anymore then I can't get pregnant again...and...and," I started crying "if you've move far away I won't even have your companionship."

By then I was in full blown meltdown. Sean cuddled me, and tried to dry my tears all the while repeating "You haven't let me finish yet."

Eventually I regained control and stared at him with most of my tears dried but what I assumed were raccoon eyes (leaked mascara) as he continued.

"As I was trying to say before your meltdown," he chuckled, "I'm to the point now where, at 32 years old and with money that I now want to spend, and with the strong desire to have a real family rather than kids that someone else raises; well..."

Before he could finish I sobbed "You're going to marry Dante, aren't you?" starting another flood of tears.

He snuggled me again and actually laughed -- the bastard. After a minute or two he shook me. "You really are an unobservant bitch, aren't you," he chuckled.

I was about to verbally blast him when he quickly followed his "unobservant bitch" statement with "I broke it off with Dante three months ago, I want to marry you, and although I won't be using my impregnation chair with anyone else ever again, I will use it with you as many times as you want me to."

My months of fortitude in attempting to prevent myself from falling in love with Sean suddenly evaporated. "I love you..." I mumbled; and then apparently fainted, waking up with a concerned Sean holding my head in his hands.

When my eyes opened again I said "I love you" again three times in quick succession.

"I love you too Amy -- now are you going to accept my proposal?"

"Fuck yeah," I chimed, my strength starting to quickly return to me -- and fuck is exactly what we did, on the blanket, right out in the open.

*************

It's now six years after our picnic and Sean's proposal. I absolutely love being a suburban stay-at-home Mom for our four kids (the last pregnancy -- which will be the final one -- resulted in twins), two girls and two boys. I fulfilled the vision of four year old Amy in spades because in addition to being a devoted mother I have an awesome husband who is a perfect father.

I got my dream life in an unconventional way -- but getting it was all that counts.