Angie's Valentines Baby

"Sweet and sour," I say with a grin. Her tongue flicks out. It is a very good dinner!

"Bring the cake, we'll eat it in bed," I tell her after she's hopped off my knee, the boxes of Chinese food demolished by the hungry lovers.

"We'll get crumbs on the sheets," she complains. But I've already turned and left the room. She finds me a minute later in the family den, facing a wall of pictures and holding one glass framed photo in my hand. Angie's carrying a tray laden with two giant slices of chocolate cake and the rest of our bottle of wine.

"This Paul?" I ask when I feel her come up next to me.

"Yes," his nude wife answers as she snuggles her body against mine.

"Does he know how hot his wife is?" I put my free arm around her.

"Yes."

"Your wedding day," I reach for a second picture.

"Uh huh." There's a wistful look on her face as she says it. They truly made a beautiful couple.

"You love him don't you?" She doesn't answer, simply buries her cheek against my chest. My hand finds her breast.

"Your parents?" I ask as I hold up another one. She nods yes. Then I point to another one, this time one of her parents with three children.

"That was when I was nine, that's my little sister. My brother," she says to my questioning glance.

I pick up another, this one a family shot from the wedding. "What's his name?" I ask as I point to the boy man at the left of the shot. I know it's her brother.

"John ... he's just a year younger than me. Here's a picture we took just this past December, it was Johnnie's eighteenth birthday party."

In it Angie is flanked on either side by her husband and her brother. So this is the famous Johnnie I think to myself as I look at the photo. Two men, both with almost matinee idol looks, are flanking an angel..

It's obvious from their expressions that they're both in love with her. Angie says nothing as I wander around the room examining every picture. I finally settle on two, both head and shoulders shots, pick them up and turn to leave the room.

"Where are you going?" she asks to my back. "Put them back."

"Bring the cake," I order as I go out the door.

I'm in bed, naked, leaning against the headboard when she finally catches up.

"Why'd you bring them?"

"I want them to watch," I answer.

"Watch what?"

"An angel."

"No, I don't want them watching." Angie tries to grab the picture from my hand but I quickly move it up and away from her reach. I set it on the bedside table. Then I reach for the one of Johnnie. He goes on the other table. They're flanking us, watching, waiting.

I reach for the tray and scoop up a thick finger full of chocolate icing. Unmoving, Angie watches transfixed as I 'ice' my cock.

"That's so gross." In response I push my icing streaked finger between her lips.

"I'm not putting that thing in my mouth," she says when I finally pull my finger out.

"Whipped Scouries cream goes perfectly with chocolate icing," I promise. She's smiling. "Besides, we definitely don't want to get any of this chocolate on your sheets do we? What would Paul say?"

"I won't do it." But she's licking the icing my finger left on her lips as she denies me. And enjoying it.

"And Paul and Johnnie are going to watch ... to make sure their little girl does a good job," I say as I put my hand on the back of her head and gently push her down.

"Please Jim."

"Kiss him."

"No, I won't." But almost immediately her tongue flicks out and captures the drop of precum that's formed at the end of my cock.

And then she puts her moist tongue at the base of my cock, on the underside, and slowly licks upward. And then she does it again. And again. And her husband watches as my penis is lathered in her saliva. And her little brother is still there watching when she slips her lips over my cockhead and takes me deep into her mouth.

And they're both still watching when a forty year old author of erotic stories, a man who's been groaning out the name 'Angeeeee' as the married angel has orally ministered to his cock, finally starts to buck his hips and spew out his cream into the waiting mouth and throat.

And when Angie finally releases my spent prick I pick up Paul's picture and bring it toward the sticky tip of my cock. Angie, her mouthh open, my sperm dribbling from the corner of her mouth, watches aghast, almost trancelike, as I rub my penis's sticky, sperm covered head across his photographed face.

"Nooooooooooo!" She cries as she grabs the frame from my hands.

"You better clean it," I say as she dips a finger into the small pool of sperm that's covering her husband's face.

"You're disgusting."

Lick it clean," I tell her and as she slowly brings her tongue to the sperm laden glass surface of the photograph I pick up Johnnie and bring him toward my cock. I set the glass framed photo on my thigh and then milk out a last thick, dollop of sperm from my penis. Angie turns just in time to watch the cum drop from its end and splatter on Johnnie's eyes.

"You're a pervert," she accuses as she grabs the frame. I say nothing as her tongue cleans her brother's face.

"Tell me about him," I finally say.

"About who?"

"Johnnie."

"What about him? There's nothing to tell."

"How big is his cock?"

"What kind of question is that? He's my brother! How would I know? He has a girlfriend." The words gush out from her mouth in a torrent but can't hide the blush that's engulfed her cheeks.

"As big as mine?" I ask as I capture one of her hands and bring it to my again growing penis. She struggles to escape but I don't let her.

"I only saw it once," she finally whispers, her words muffled by my shoulder. I wait.

"It was an accident. Mom called up and told me to wake him. But his door was open when I went to knock."

"So you saw it?"

"By accident. But there was absolutely no sex involved, none at all. And don't look at me that way. He's my brother. I'd never thought of him like that. NEVER!"

"But then you did? After."

"No I didn't. Not once. We never mentioned the incident."

"That's why you gave up your boyfriend isn't it?"

"No it isn't. It's because I met Paul. That's why I gave up my stupid boyfriend."

"Was it big?" And as I ask I flip her on her back and roll on top of her, pinning her down.

"No it wasn't."

"Bigger than Paul's?"

"Shut up!" she orders. In answer I push my penis inside her.

"As big as mine?"

"I don't know," she groans.

"Maybe I should call him and ask." I reach for her cell sitting on the side table.

"Don't you dare."

Johnnie's cell is the third number listed on Angie's phone when I scroll down.

"Please don't," she begs. I click his number.

"It's ringing."

"I don't want to talk to him. What'll I say?"

"What do you normally say to him?"

I put my head next to hers and hold the phone between our ears. We both hear her brothers first words, "Angie, is that you? Angie? Is something wrong?".

"Angie, are you there," he repeats when his sister doesn't immediately answer him. I start to move my hips. He doesn't know his sister is getting fucked even as he talks.

"I'm here," Angie finally manages.

"You're okay? It's late. I thought-"

"Did I wake you Johnnie? I didn't realise how late it was. Sorry. I'll call you tomorrow."

"No wait. I'm glad you called. Just surprised. Where's Paul?"

"He's out of town. Til Sunday. At the seminar ... he told you last week."

"Oh yeah. So you're alone?"

I'm only half listening as their conversation goes on. My penis, although not fully engaged yet, is claiming more and more of my attention as it moves slowly up and down Angie's tight sheath.

Finally their conversation turns to Valentines Day. How Angie will be alone. And how Johnnie, who's taking his girlfriend out on the Friday night but not on Valentines Day itself (apparently she and her mom are off somewhere for the weekend), will also be free.

He of course asks her out.

"We'll just have dinner, it'll be fun," I hear him say.

"You're my brother," Angie giggles back. I'm fucking her more urgently now.

Eventually of course, after much giggling discussion, she agrees. As soon as she hangs up the phone I start to cum. And I can't help but wonder as my sperm floods inside her if she's thinking of me or her little brother.

"I'm only going because he wants to discuss his girlfriend. He needs a woman's advice," Angie says later as we lay in each other's arms.

"I'll bet he does. And a few other things."

"He's my brother!"

We don't talk about her brother or her husband the rest of the night -- we're too busy!

Thursday, February 12th 2009, Chicago, Illinois

6 Our Last Night

It's late, near midnight, and we've spent the last two hours in bed. Fucking. Hard, almost desperate fucking. We both know it's our last night. We're cuddled together, face to face, as we try to recover. I feel a tear slide off her cheek and onto my chest.

"I love you," I whisper as I caress her hair.

"You're bad. I didn't even want to be in your stupid story."

"Paul will make a good father won't he? For my baby."

"What if he finds out?"

"He'll never find out."

"He might." I continue to caress her hair and face. Soft loving caresses.

"Blame Johnnie," I finally whisper.

"That's disgusting!"

"Turn over."

"Why?"

"You don't think your Italian lover is going to leave the story Angie without turning you over do you?" I ask as I flip her on her stomach.

"What's he going to do?"

"Europeans are famous for this," I answer as my hands slip onto her bum.

"You're not European!" she squeals. I ignore her, instead I slip a finger up against the tightly puckered opening.

"JIM!" I say nothing. I slip my finger inside.

"I don't do that. Paul's never-"

"I'm not Paul," I answer as I reach for the lube with my free hand.

Angie had a virgin bum before she met me. Not now.

"Don't put that part in the story, the bum part," she says later as she leans back against my chest. We're sitting in the bathtub, surrounded by bubbles.

"Can I write about how I fucked your breasts?"

"You didn't."

"Not yet," I whisper into her ear as my soapy hands close around her tits...

Leaving a lover is always hard and the next morning was no exception. Angie cried. I wanted to.

"Call me. Tomorrow night," I tell her through the car window.

"Call you? When?"

"After your date with your brother."

"It's not a date!"

"I put my number in your cell. Call me no matter how late."

"Why?"

"And there's a present for you on the hall table."

"A present?"

"To wear on your date. I love you," I say as I push down the accelerator. I'd left her the black, floral lace bra and panties she'd modeled for me the first night. The ones I told her she'd be wearing when the young lover took her in my story. As I drove north I wondered how young Johnnie would do.

Sunday, February 15th 2009, Madison, Wisconsin

7 Valentines Night 2:30 a.m.

"Hi," I answer after picking up the phone from the bedside table.

"I didn't wake you?" Angie whispers.

"Happy Valentines Day," I whisper back while looking over at the sleeping form next to me, her lush nudity clear in the moonlight that's streaming into the room. I lean over and kiss a nipple. She doesn't stir. I slip out from under the silk sheet and roll out of bed.

"No, I've been eagerly awaiting your call," I answer as I walk out of the bedroom and down the hall.

"I didn't disturb you?" I smile at Angie's curiosity.

"Tell me about your date."

"It wasn't a date! He's my brother. We just had dinner."

"Is he as big as me?"

"He just wanted to discuss his girlfriend that's all. You're a pervert."

"Did he like your underwear?"

"He didn't see it."

"Liar. Did you tell him your other lover bought it for you?"

"So what about yoooour sister? What did you and she doooo tonight? Maybe we should talk about that."

"C'mon, tell me," I order.

And in the end and over the next forty-five minutes she did. In great detail. But I promised Angie that I wouldn't write what she told me that night. She told me she's planning on eventually writing the story and submitting it to Literotica herself. So you'll have to wait a bit for all the juicy details. And they are juicy...

The Baby

I went home to Miami on the following Tuesday. And quickly settled back into my normal routine. I didn't hear from Angie until one day in late April I opened my e-mail and found an anonymous feedback e-mail on my latest story. It read:

I loved your story. I'm ten weeks pregnant. Paul's ecstatic. So is Johnnie. You were right; it is possible for a woman to love two men. Maybe even three! .....Angie

And over the following six months we corresponded intermittently until on November 10th, exactly nine months to the day after I had wandered into a lingerie shop on Michigan Avenue in Chicago, Illinois, I received a picture of a just born, seven pound, eleven ounce bundle of joy.

And over the following week I received a series of pictures. Pictures the mother of my child sent me surreptitiously. Pictures of Angie and the baby. Of Paul and the baby. Of Johnnie and the baby. Of the baby breastfeeding. Of my baby.

Of my beautiful baby. Who was going to be raised by another man.

Some readers might read this story and then say to themselves, 'You're a bastard Scouries for fucking another man's wife'.

All I can say is that you weren't there. No man in the world wouldn't have wanted her. I loved her. Still do.

Some of you might blame Angie, call her a 'slut' or a 'whore'. She's not! She's a wonderful and kind woman who'll make Paul a perfect, loving wife and at the same time be a fantastic mother to his child.

Some of you may pity Paul. DON'T! He's lucky. He has a wife who loves him. And he doesn't have to go through the agonizing process of acknowledging his infertility. Of having his manhood questioned for the rest of his life. He has a child.

Thursday, February 11th 2010, Chicago, Illinois

8 Marriott Hotel Room #1522

It's been three months since the birth of my child. Twelve since I last saw Angie. I'm on my way back to Wisconsin to celebrate Valentines Day 2010 with my sister. But first I'm going to meet my daughter.

I don't say anything when I open the door, instead I simply pull Angie into my arms.

"Careful, the baby," she cautions. She's holding the bassinet in her left hand. I kiss the mother of my daughter. A long, hard, needy kiss. A lover's kiss.

When we finally break apart, when our moist probing tongues have reluctantly left the others mouth, Angie carefully lifts her child up into her arms.

"I shouldn't even introduce you to this guy," she cautions her daughter. "He's a bad man," she adds as she holds out and offers me my child.

Tears are sliding down my cheeks as I plant a soft kiss on my baby's lips. I know that this afternoon may be the last time I'll be able to acknowledge my parenthood.

We make love. There's no hesitation by either of us. Something that produced something as perfect as the baby can't be bad. It can't be wrong.

"We've decided we'd like to have at least three, maybe four in all," Angie says after we've finished. She's snuggled tightly in my arms.

"Do you?" She nods. "And who's to be-"

She doesn't let me finish. "Don't you think it would be better if they all had the same father?"

"Much," I agree, a smile exploding into life on my lips.

"We were thinking that we should have the second one about eighteen months after the first."

I start to calculate in my head. "So you'd have to get pregnant sometime around August," I offered.

"Uh huh," she answers.

"I usually come back up to Wisconsin in the summer. The whole family tries to get together at the lake."

"You could come up a week early," Angie says.

Yes I could. And I will...

THE END

This is an official VALENTINES DAY CONTEST entry -- please vote for this story and others in the contest. It's you the reader who'll decide the winner.

And LITEROTICA has just unveiled their new comment system -- why not try it out and send me a comment. Let me know how you liked the story. Or what you think about adultery. Or tell me your experiences. Was I unfair to Pau? Or was he lucky? Have you ever made love to someone 'out of the blue' like I did that day?

Thanks for reading my story and I hope all of you have a happy and sex filled Valentines with someone you love.

jim