Impregnating MombySam Jason©
Father: Arthur Zosyx, Insurance Manager, age: 48
5'4", 238 lb.
balding, poor personal hygiene, sedentary
penis: 4.2" long, 1" diameter
volume of ejaculation: 0.4 cc (average= 4.0 cc)
Mother: Amanda (Mandy) Zosyx, school volunteer, age: 42
5'9", 135 lb, 38D-26-36
athletic, dark brown hair (short wavy cut), active, sexually frustrated
Son: Shawn, going into senior year (HS), age: barely 18
4'10, 98 lb.
thin, frail, very intelligent, persuasive
penis: 9.4" long, 2.4" diameter
volume of ejaculation: 12.7 cc
Time of year--Summer vacation
"I'll never agree to a sperm donor," Arthur said.
"But, it's been 10 years of trying," I said. "If I don't get pregnant soon, it's never going to happen. Shawn will never have a brother or sister. The doctors have said you have too low a sperm count."
"I bet it's your fault. You just aren't fertile any more. I know I do my part every month when we have sex. You and your date circled on the calendar when you supposedly ovulate."
"I just think you should consider the option to have me get pregnant by artificial means. It wouldn't mean you're any less of a man, Arthur, and we'd have another child."
"No way! Not in a million years. I'm not going to have another man's sperm in you. You're my woman, and that's the end of it. And don't try anything behind my back, because I know everyone in the local medical community and know where all the money is, so you can't pay for it."
"I wish you wouldn't be so unreasonable, Arthur." I started crying. But, my husband ignored me, walked out the door, and went to work.
I sat there at the kitchen table, sobbing, until my son Shawn came in.
"Mom, don't be sad. I heard everything, again for the millionth time. You know Dad's not going to change his mind."
He reached around me and gave me a hug. I wiped my eyes and hugged him back, feeling how thin and delicate he was, my just-turned-18-year-old beautiful boy. My pride and joy. I didn't know what I would do if I didn't have him.
"I'm sorry you had to hear that again. The same old thing. I guess I have to start facing the truth. You'll never have a brother or a sister."
"Isn't there any other way, to get pregnant, I mean?"
"No, Shawn. The doctors have said I'm fine, but your Dad can't produce what's needed any more." I thought of the pitiful few drops that my husband produced when I last gave him a quick handjob when he was too tired for sex.
"Well, how about somebody else's sperm? We learned all about that when that lady that had all the babies was in the news."
"Your father won't allow it. And it's too expensive."
"How much do you really want another baby, Mom?"
"Oh, Shawn, I want one with all my heart. I would do anything to know another little life is growing inside me. It would fulfill me completely. That's why it's hurting so much."
"Then, why don't you, you know, fool around just once and get pregnant on that day you mark off on the calendar? Just once. Dad would never know."
"SHAWN! What would make you say such a thing. I've never cheated on your father and I never will! And if I did, your father would know the baby looked nothing like him. That's a totally stupid idea."
"Aw, Mom, it wouldn't be like you were doing anything wrong for the wrong reasons. You'd be doing something right for the right reasons. Just for that once and that's it so you have another child for the rest of your life. That seems like a good deal for me."
I couldn't believe I was having this conversation with my own teenage son. He was encouraging me to have a one-night stand with some guy just to have a baby. As crazy as that sounded, it did have some logic to it, but I could never stand the thought of being intimate with some strange man, no matter what the motivation. That would never, ever happen. I needed to have some affection, some love for the man I allowed into my body.
"Subject closed, mister. We're out of ideas on that subject." Shawn sat down and looked thoughtful. I wiped my eyes and tried not to cry any more in front of him. I would hide the pain from now on. That's when Shawn spoke again.
"What about me, Mom?"
"What about you?" I asked. I thought he was talking about also wanting a brother or sister.
"You said Dad would know if the baby didn't look like him."
"Yes, young man. That's called genetics. A baby looks like both his parents.
"Well, everybody says I look a lot like both you and Dad."
"Yeah. So?" I wasn't liking where this seemed to be heading, but still wasn't sure I could believe what I was beginning to suspect."
"So, if you used my sperm, Dad would never know. The baby would look like both of you. Problem solved!"
I was speechless. My son, my young son had just suggested getting his own mother pregnant. It was so unexpected and preposterous that I couldn't even give words to the protest my mind was thinking. I just sat there with my mouth open.
Shawn continued: "Dad would think it's his. He would be happy thinking he's the big man, and you'd be happy that you're pregnant. And, I'd be happy you two weren't fighting all the time and I had something to do with making things better."
"Making things better? Do you even realize what you're saying? Listen to yourself. You're talking about being a sperm donor for your own mother. And, if you weren't listening, it costs a lot of money to have that one. Your father would know all about it, and know about who the donor was. Some plan."
"Dad doesn't have to know," he said.
"Shawn, you're talking nonsense. There's no way he wouldn't find out. So, thanks for the brilliant idea, but no thanks."
"There's one way he would never find out," Shawn said.
"Oh, and what's that?"
Shawn got up, and before leaving the kitchen, looked into my eyes, and said, "We could, you know, make love."
I didn't know what to say. I thought I had been shocked before, but this was a whole different level of surprise. My son, my flesh and blood had proposed having sex. My face got red with shame at just the thought of it.
"Think about it, Mom," he said, and touched my arm as he passed by.
I pulled away from his hand as if it was an electric wire and yelled, "You go to your room and stay there. I don't want to even look at you."
I spent two uncomfortable hours thinking about the horrid thing my son had cooked up in his misguided brain. How could he even contemplate such an idea? And, even if he did have some wild hormone-driven fantasy, how could he tell his mother?
I finally justified his actions by factoring in his age and his goal of stopping the fighting, the drama that had been escalating.
I took my mind off it by doing the wash and folding the clothes. I had heard Shawn's TV in his room, but as I approached with his clothes, I just heard his voice. More accurately, I heard him making soft noises.
His bedroom door was open about an inch, and I peeked in before knocking and entering with his clean clothes. I had a clear view of Shawn. He was lying on his bed without his shirt on, and his running shorts were pulled down to his knees.
His right hand was wrapped around his penis, and he slowly stroked it up and down, up and down. I should have quietly left and given him his privacy, but I was stunned. Shawn was a frail boy, under 100 pounds and not even 5 feet tall. But, in his small hand was the biggest penis I had ever seen. It must have been over 9 inches long, and probably as thick as my wrist. Even bigger was its purplish head.
The tip of it glistened with lubricating fluid.
His father's penis wasn't half the size of this shaft.
He was mumbling something. I shifted my head and traded my eye for my ear at the opening. He said:
"Think. Think about it. Think about it, Mom."
Then I looked again, and he increased the speed of his fist. It became a blur as his hips began to buck. I was watching my son masturbate, and it was pretty evident that he was thinking about me!
A soft "Aaaahhhh!" escaped his lips and the black hole at the top of his penis turned white with sperm. Shawn had angled his thick cock so it was pointing towards his face, and that first gush sent a solid stream of thick goo all the way to his neck with tremendous velocity and force. This repeated.
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!" I counted to myself. That's how many times he spurted volumes of semen and sperm onto his neck, chest and stomach. It looked like he had spilled a small glass of milk onto himself.
He gave one last hard pull and squeeze while whispering, "Mom."
I was both disgusted and confused by what I was feeling. I should have immediately left when I saw what was happening. I was ashamed and embarrassed, but had other thoughts swimming in my head, too.
Shawn slowly took a wad of tissues and mopped up the mess. These he tossed into his basket.
That's when I silently backed away and went to my bedroom.
I sat on my bed and stared silently at the wall. I heard myself whisper, "All that sperm." I couldn't believe how much Shawn had ejaculated. It was ten times what his father could manage. I thought "That WOULD get me pregnant!" How could it fail to get the job done at the right time of month? That would fill any woman to the brim, soaking her eggs for sure.
On shaky legs, I stood and went to the kitchen. I made Shawn a sandwich for lunch.
"Shawn, lunch is ready," I called.
He appeared and looked timid, probably afraid I was still upset.
"You're not still mad, Mom?"
"No, Shawn. I overreacted, and now I'm thinking you were just trying to help and didn't know how wrong it was to suggest something like that. You're usually so smart, I forget you're still a little boy." I reached out and brushed his hair off his forehead.
He pulled away, saying, "Awww, Mom. I'm not a little boy. Someday you'll see that!"
"Okay, okay! You're a young man. How's that? Eat your lunch while I put away your clean clothes. And, promise you'll trust your parents to solve their own problems."
"I'll promise," He said, "if you promise to think about what I said." Then, he sat down and started eating.
His words forced my mind back to him talking about "making love," making love to his mother. Then I thought of my "little boy" comment and then the image of his huge cock flashed before me. He certainly was NOT a little boy in many ways.
I put his clothes away, and glanced at the wastepaper basket in the corner. I listened and heard Shawn still at the kitchen table. I bent down and reached into the basket and pulled out a sopping mess of a tissue. I held it up to my nose and inhaled the strong, pungent stench of a boy's cum.
Several days passed, and I thought that was the last of the incidents on that day. Things had been a little uncomfortable with Shawn, but now everything was back to normal. I had put out of my mind the sights and sounds that went on in his bedroom.
I looked at the calendar on the refrigerator. There, on Thursday the 14th was a big red circle. That's the day I guessed was ovulating this month. Just like every month for the past ten years, I was hoping this was to be my lucky day.
A voice came from behind me: "There's the big day again. Have you thought about what I said?"
I turned to see my son standing there. I looked down at him and sighed. Here I was, his mother, almost a foot taller and almost 25 years older, having to have this insane conversation again.
"Shawn, you have to stop this. You're too young to realize how wrong what you're suggesting is. If you don't stop, I'll tell your father, and then you'll really be in trouble."
"You won't tell him, Mom. I know you. And I know him. He'd find some way to blame you and fly off the handle and you wouldn't want that."
I hated to admit it, but that's just what would happen with Arthur. He was so unreasonable at times
"Just because I won't tell him doesn't mean you have any right to keep pestering me. Case closed. Understand?" I thought that would end the subject, but I was mistaken.
"I know you watched me the other day, Mom."
"Watched you? What are you talking about?"
"You know. I heard you there at the door when I was jerking off. I know you saw me cum."
"Shawn ... Shawn, that was an accident. I was bringing your clothes, and..."
"Mom, it's okay. I'm glad you watched me. That will prove that I can do what I said, that I'm not little boy like you think. Did you see how much I can cum, Mom?"
"Young man, I will not even talk about this. I made a mistake by invading your privacy. I was shocked. That's all. That's why it took me a few moments to recover. I didn't want to embarrass either of us by saying anything."
"But, you saw my cum, right? You saw how much of it there was. And that was the second time that day. When I save up a few days, it's even more."
I couldn't believe he was taking to me this way. And, I couldn't believe he could ejaculate an even greater amount.
He reached past me and tapped his finger on the calendar. "Just think what would happen if all that cum got inside you on this day. What would happen, Mom?"
I refused to answer. Why was he tormenting me this way, making me think about his cum? Making me think about it inside of me?
"Say it, Mom. Say what you know would be true. Tell me what would happen if I came inside you on the 14th."
"Stop it, Shawn. I won't play your little game any more." I was too shocked at all this to be as angry as I should be. I was embarrassed that I got caught like some voyeur watching my son masturbate, and I was ashamed at standing here talking about sex with my own son.
"Say it, Mom. Tell me what you know would happen if I fucked you on the 14th of this month."
Hearing the word "fuck" coming out of my little boy's mouth shattered my mind. Unconsciously, four words came out of my mouth: "I would get pregnant," I whispered.
"And, that's exactly what you've been praying for as long as I can remember. So, that's what should happen, Mom. Just think about it."
Shawn left the kitchen without waiting for my reply or reaction. He left me alone with my jumbled and confused thoughts. Thoughts that caused a mixture of anger and shame.
I always think best in the shower, so I gave myself the luxury of a long extra-hot soak in the streams of water. When I got done, I used my towel to wipe the steam off the full-length mirror. Here I was, 42 years old and still trying to have a baby. I looked at my body in the mirror, and had to admit I didn't look my age. My 135 pounds were muscular and trimly proportioned on my 5'9" frame. My 38D breasts were large and more relaxed than they used to be, but nobody could accuse them of being one bit saggy. My nipples, hard from toweling off, were pink and centered in darker areoles about the diameter of a poker chip.
Even I had to admit I looked hot still.
"For what?" I said out loud. All that exercise and diet. Arthur, my fat and flabby husband, thought that fishing, his only hobby, was exercise. He got out of breath walking to the car. Which was another reason that sex was a chore to him. He just wanted to get it over as fast as possible and turn over and go to sleep. That, and his tiny penis probably were the reasons I never had an orgasm with him.
I dressed and left the shower no wiser, unfortunately. Shawn was in the living room, watching TV.
"I've got a plan, Mom!" he said cheerily.
"I don't want to hear about any plan, young man."
"Tonight at dinner, I'm going to talk to Dad. I may need your help."
"Shawn, if this has anything to do with what we talked about in the kitchen, you'll be in big trouble. I definitely will not be a participant in this subject any longer. My answer is 'NO!' to any of your schemes."
That didn't seem to deter him, and he said, "We'll see."
"What a day I had today. I'm exhausted," Arthur said. He wasn't exhausted enough to stop stuffing food into his mouth, gobbling down twice as much as Shawn and I ate put together. He said the exact same thing every night.
"You deserve a rest, Dad," Shawn said.
"See," Arthur said. "Even Shawn sees that I need a little relaxation. But, work keeps me tied down and so busy. And all the stress...."
Shawn interrupted before Arthur could go on one his rants about work. "Dad, don't you have a branch office in Littlemore, about four hours away from here?"
"Yeah, Littlemore. Another pain in the ass. That's something else that's hanging over my head. I need to get out there and do an audit of their paperwork."
"Well, Dad, why don't you go up there next week on Tuesday?"
"Huh? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're trying to get rid of your dear ol' dad. What's really going on?"
I looked at Shawn, shocked that he had tried such a stupid trick. It served him right, and now he had stuck his foot in his mouth. I was going to enjoy seeing his little plans all fall apart.
Instead of looking guilty, Shawn pulled a newspaper clipping from his pocket and asked, "Isn't Lake Mirrorside right there?" He handed the clipping to my husband, who read it then whistled.
"Mandy, guess what? There's a big fishing derby up there. This could work out great. I could drive up there early on Tuesday, fish all day, do what has to get done on Wednesday in the office, and spend the rest of the time fishing. Then, I could drive back home on Thursday, for 'you know what'--if I'm not too tired"
I was stunned. Shawn was playing on his father's love for fishing. It was brilliant. But, I had an idea of my own.
"Sounds great," I said. "What about I come with you? We could spend some relaxing time together." I gave Shawn a smug look, knowing I had just thwarted his scheme.
"Yeah, that's a great idea. You hate long drives, you hate fishing, and you hate when I go to work. So you know what? Stay here with your son and spend some quality time with him. Right Shawn?"
"Quality time," Shawn said as he looked directly into my eyes. I turned my head away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of my realization that he had indeed gotten his father out of the picture for a few days.
"Shawn, while I'm gone, remember, you're the man of the house. Promise me you'll take good care of your mother."
"Relax, Dad. I'll take extra special care of her while you're gone."
The next four days were one mental battle after another with Shawn. It seemed we didn't ever have a conversation that wasn't tainted by his perversion.
"Only four days to go, Mom. Then you and I can be alone."
"Shawn, alone or not, nothing is going to happen. So, just get it out of your mind? Your father and I will find a way to have a baby--ourselves, thank you, with no help needed from an overheated teenage boy who doesn't even know the damage he could do."
"What damage? It's a few minutes together that we'll forget all about when you finally get pregnant and I can have a brother or sister and you can finally have that second kid that you've always wanted. That seems like it's worth it."
I had to admit, when he put it that way, that a brief time could give me all that joy and fulfillment I'd been craving--but, it was just him putting a good spin on a crazy notion. The guilt would be unbearable. He didn't realize that.
"Shawn, you're my son, and that would be called a very bad word: incest. Not only is it looked on as a sin by all religions, but it's also against the law. Would you like it if your picture was in the paper with that kind of stigma, for the rest of your life?"
"Mom, I think of lots worse things that people do and do right out in the open that ruin people's lives, and religions and the government, and the police look the other way."