Fat Boy Ch. 02

"Are you going to play with my clothes all day?" she asked. "Or are we going to fuck?"

About seven months ago, this white woman before me told me that she couldn't get pregnant. Like any hot blooded man, I believed her. Seven months ago I baptized her vagina with my own version of the water of life. The delicious wetness of our two bodies churned up both enormous pleasures and terribly intimate messes. Somewhere between three and four months ago, a load of my still teeming, potent sperm swam directly up to Diane's living ovum and fertilized the cell.

My white lover was carrying my baby, and she was happy about it. And here I was just as proud, just as happy, and equally as miserable about the complication this had brought into my life. You know, this would be okay, somehow, if I didn't love her. I could ask her to abort and then leave the decision in her hands. But I knew Diane too well. She'd never abort. She'd gone too long without ever getting pregnant.

She stripped off the African print dress; I disrobed as well, and we proceeded to repeat the act that had gotten us into this intimately emotional mess in the first place. I watched her waiting on the hotel bed and decided to approach her from the foot of the bed.

She was an amazing woman, this energetically firm, yet soft and tactile lump of feminine flesh, and, for the moment, she was all mine.

"Lie down on your back, sweetheart," I murmured, crawling up between her open thighs by walking upright on my knees. "You just relax. Let me do all the work."

I leaned down and put both hands on either side of her hips. "Lift with me a little bit, Diane."

Bracing the bottoms of her feet against the bed, Diane rose when I lifted her hips and buttocks up into the air. I shimmied in even closer between her spread thighs nudged at her labia with the tip of my erection. I nudged again, this time a little harder.

"Ohh!" she gasped. "Oh, I've missed you, James."

"I know, sweetheart." I looked past her swollen abdomen to focus on her blue eyes. "I've missed you too." Carefully, I pressed the tip and then beyond the tip of my cock into her open pink pussy. I pushed once, then twice, then again and again. Each time I pressed forward, my dick sank a little deeper into her white pussy.

Diane moaned and her legs started to give way. I gripped her tightly so that I wouldn't slip from her loins. I literally pulled her body onto my erected cock until I bottomed out at the end of her vagina.

"Stay with me now, Diane."

"Oohh!" she moaned, both her legs were trembling with the exertion of holding herself up.

I took more of her weight into my hands, and I drove my cock in deep and then let it slip back a little bit. My black dick buried itself in her white pussy once and again, time after time. The effect on my psyche was phenomenal.

Diane caught my dark eyes with her own blue ones. I could tell she was enjoying every second of our fucking, and I could tell that she needed to keep me in the moment, keep us physically attached to each other. Suddenly, she closed her eyes and threw her head to the side.

"Oh, God! Oh, James," she whispered, tossing her head from side to side. "Th-thank you for teaching me how to love with that Fat Boy of yours."

I couldn't help myself. My eyes landed on the round bulging belly newly ripe with the burgeoning fruit melded from both of us, and I quaked with excitement as well. "Oh, Diane!" I grunted, as I pulled her onto my penis time and again. I gasped loudly, quickly losing control in my own excitement.

"James," she murmured. "James, thank you for giving me this baby."

What?

Then I realized that I too was thankful for this new lease on life. "You're more than welcome, sweetheart."

Diane shuddered a climax that shook her whole body. She began to gasp like a runner who'd just done a dozen laps at top speed. But she continued to grip my dick like a rubber glove in warm dishwater.

I spurted and spewed my hot semen inside of her receptive body. She already had my child, but I needed to remind her that she also had my love.

Later on we took off together, going down to the historic Laclede's Landing to enjoy the Blues Festival. It was amazing to see the looks especially from other women, white, black, or Asian, seeing my fair skinned Diane cling with me, her black lover, and looking so obviously full with my child.

I'd never told her, but today I had to. "Diane."

"What is it, hon?" She snuggled against me during a particularly sexy slow blues.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For the baby."

"Really?" She snuggled closer.

"Really. No matter what happens in the future, I want to declare paternity and be an active part of raising this baby."

She smiled knowingly and lifted up her chin to kiss me.

I remembered that kiss even now as I sit in my office and rifle through my briefcase. Where are they? Ah, yes. Here was the picture taken of Diane in just the caftan--no bra, no panties. And, of course, there were subsequent shots with no caftan either—just my Diane au natural.

My Diane? Heaven help me, I think it's true. There's never been anyone in my life quite like my Diane—the latest mother of my child.