Martha, Dearest Martha

Talk about uncomfortable. Here I was with my wife's personal trainer, alone for at least an hour. I was holding her new borne, a mulatto baby that raised a myriad of questions, none of which I asked. I would never forget the next few moments.

Sitting on the couch, holding the baby, Ingrid sat hard against me. She then lowered the right side of her pink gauzy leotard, exposing the most beautiful breast I had ever seen. Warm, sexy, motherly, the big boob had the most interesting green, red, and blue touches of color on it. The big brown nipple looked so suckable. She gestured for me to give her the baby.

Ingrid: "No, don't hand him to me...bring him to breast."

Startled momentarily, I held up that deceptively heavy baby and extended my arms to put him in range of that out-pointing nipple. My mouth watered...God, I'd love to be that lucky baby!! Ingrid put her pinky into the side of his mouth, making him gape. Then she pushed him firmly against that nipple, the brown milk nozzle securely entering.

Nature took over, and with a smash of his tongue and draw of his lips, that warm, sweet mother's milk starting dripping, draining, spraying down his throat, sating his little belly with nourishment. I'm ashamed to admit that as I watched this beautiful and innocent scene, I got rock hard.

After what seemed like hours, she told me to put the baby back into his traveling carrier. I did and he went to sleep instantly.

Me: "Tell me, did you stop because he stops drinking or because you ran dry?"

Ingrid: "Oh, because he stopped drinking. I still have PLENTY of delicious breastmilk. In fact, if you want, you can help me drain it. My fingers get tired, leaning over the sink, spraying it down the drain."

Me: "You waste that stuff down the drain?"

Ingrid: "I do when I don't have my pump and spare bottles. How else could it be used? I mean, WHO WOULD WANT TO DRINK MOUTHFULS OF MILK THAT TASTED LIKE MELTED DOVE BARS, WARM, SWEET, ALMOST INTOXICATING. I KNOW, IT'S SAID THAT SOME MEN BECOME ADDICTED TO IT; THAT IT ACTS LIKE AN APHRODISIAC; THAT IT TRIPLES A MAN'S POTENCY; THAT IT MAKES SOME MEN BECOME ANIMALS, FORCING THEM TO BREED WITH INSANE FEROCITY. BUT THAT'S ONLY WIVES' TALES."

About halfway thru her speech, I had gotten up. By the end of it, I had stood her up and was ripping that leotard to shreds. My mouth fastened on her nipple, which was naturally erect from nursing. She molded my hair and stroked me gently as I suckled noisily, greedily.

As I finished one perfect breast and moved for the second, she had a little fun by pretending to stop me. Gently, firmly, then powerfully, I brushed her aside and fastened on to that 2nd big nipple. The thumb-like protuberance occupied my whole mouth as warm splashes of flavor and contentment kept engulfing my mouth, tongue, and throat. It was overwhelming.

With a noisy gulp, I finished the last mouthful and stood up. Breathing heavily, I looked at this 40-ish soccer mom MILF.

Me: "Wives' tales or not, that milk DID get me hard. It DID make me want you, what to breed you. So help me God, I am going to fuck the shit out of you, and get you pregnant. This time, it will be MY baby. Get on your back NOW...bitch!"

Ingrid acted as if this was a shock; of course, her scripted words were aimed to make this happen. She finally got flat on her back, her expensive pink leotard a distant memory. I flexed my muscles in manly triumph and mounted that middle aged sexpot.

Talk about weird. She was in her 40's and about the age of the first older woman I ever desired, due to the fact that woman lived with me and tucked me in at night (ahem...) The weird part was that my fantasy woman was still in her 40's whereas I was now much older than that.

Although I hinted darkly that I wanted to breed her mindlessly hard, I stopped that assault before it started. Putting her on her side facing me, I handed her my long ten inch cock.

Me: "Sweetheart, use that as you will. There are probably parts of you that need attention that I would never think of. Have a good time and only return it when you've run out of ideas."

She was so touched by my selflessness that she bent forward and kissed me. She then took my powerful man tool. It took both of her hands to manipulate it, with difficulty.

First she plowed back and forth across the welcoming maw of her tingling pussy. Her clitoris got a lengthy visit. Then her hyper-sensitive depths got a rubdown back and forth for 10 long minutes. Finally, she removed her hands, leaving me deep inside of her. My cockhead was not far from her uterus. She whispered for me to breed her, give her a baby, MY baby.

Well, she didn't have to run a full-page ad in the San Francisco Chronicle. I got the idea. I pumped her a few times for effect (I was ready to spew without any further doings.)

Finally, my lengthy manhood swelled with power and virility; my huge bloated sperm reservoirs expanded to the size of birthday balloons before a tremendous ripple ran thru them. All of that sperm-laden cum, my potent seed, was rocketed out, racing the length of my giant cock, and propelled with frightening force and power into the unprotected and oh so very fertile womb of this supersexy mommy.

This was surely the sexiest moment of my life as I came back to earth, gasping for air. It was then and only then that I realized that Martha was watching us. When I say watching, I mean she was within a foot of us as we both recovered.

Well, she had gotten her way in the end, and I couldn't be happier. Martha got to watch me service her friend, pump my seed with almost blind desperation, and put her back in 'the family way'.

As for her friend Adele, she was true to her word and carried my baby to term, giving birth. For gay women in the Bay area, having children out of wedlock, without even a male companion, was not at all unusual. She and her baby were very happy and she had no money needs or demands.

As for Heather, she had called me about a month after our 'get together', telling me that she was pregnant. I was delighted and sent her as much as I could, as I said before. Well, her bald skinhead punk boyfriend tried to re-enter her life, even threatening to do things to [our] four babies.

Me: "Martha, you said that you enjoyed the idea of me having 'action' as long as you weren't left out of the loop. Well, Heather is being threatened by some real low-life, and I'd appreciate it if we could put her up in our guest room. [She smiled and nodded.] Am I correct that you wouldn't mind if we occasionally spent time together, just Heather and me, as long as you could watch live or on tape?"

Martha smiled and kissed me on the cheek (as passionate as she got.) I guess that was a yes...awesome, dude, I would now have a live-in slut of my own.

Well, so this story ends, happily. Heather was surprised—no, amazed—that Martha put up with our shenanigans. As our babies slept in the nearby room, the three of us would have a formal supper. But, if the spirit moved her, right during dinner service, Heather would go under that long mahogany dining table and proceed to go down on me!

Afterwards, she would walk right up to Martha and defiantly drool out a torrent of my cum, dripping out her entire mouth. One time we tested her by just doing it at the dinner table. First with me seated, Heather went up and down like a jack in the box, right before we moaned in unison. I filled her fertile belly with an ocean of baby batter.

The next night I put her on the dining room table, pushing my place setting aside, and proceeding to pump MORE sperm into her fertile womb. Sure enough, the hotter and more daring we got, the hotter and more interested Martha seemed to get.

True to her word, Martha enjoyed her vicarious thrills as she found them. Even when we went to the local hospital where we all were well known, Martha had no problems with me holding Heather's hand. I did so as she gave birth to our fifth thru tenth babies as she, Martha, stood there too. The nurses figured out the relationship, which raised more than a few eyebrows.

Well, that was the whole story. I had married for money and spent years in solemn boredom. Then, I happened to find a saucy wench that brought back the man in me. I did her, some of my wife's friends, and ended up with a live-in concubine to beat the band.

After my wife passed on, I was 'stuck' with a big home, a Mercedes model S450, a houseful of children, and all the money we could eat. Martha's last words were that she really enjoyed my antics; it was the only fun she really had. She just wished that I could have shown ALL of those snooty ArgoNuts what for by putting them ALL in the family way.

Well, it was a hard job, but SOMEONE had to do it. Besides, I jokingly pledged to Martha that I would at least try. Sure enough, the next year's competition season was cancelled for the ArgoNuts. With Adele's introductions, I had emceed their off-season get together, sneaking off with every single one of those saucy wenches.

Being competitive swimmers, they were in fantastic shape. Whatever their feelings toward men and marriage, they could really put out. They made love with such ferocity and horsepower that it was a wonder that I had the strength left to cum. But, somehow I did, and each aquatic miss left me with a sperm-filled cunt.

Later, they had to call off the season because it would've been hard for the ArgoNuts to do synchronized swimming sporting swollen bellies. All the maidens, from 18 to 48, were put in the family way by yours truly, fulfilling my humorous pledge to Martha. The fact that three were married didn't seem to bother them, or me.

I guess I showed Pecan Stream what just one real man could do.