A Cell Phone Makes Me Pregnant Ch. 02

"Thank you..." I replied to his kindness. My hands went to smooth the hem of my skirt, hoping to make it longer than it was. There was no doubt that anyone walking by could get a look under my skirt and see a lot of my stockings and even the garter-straps. A quick glance told me that there was a near-continuous parade of onlookers who never stopped to gawk, but kept moving. Not to look at him, but at me.

He sat there, looking at me, his face impassive, and his eyes bore into mine again. This time, however, I now had an agenda, a task, and was more in my element, even as I sat in his.

"So, please... what is your name? What would you like to be called? Is there some screen name we should be using? I don't know... for your protection or something?"

He grunted and he sat there, and said nothing for along few moments. He just stared at me, though I could tell he was starting to sport a tent in his clothing. Just having me there had to be an immense turn on. I was well-dressed, clean, sexy-good looking, and wearing my trademark vanilla and citrus perfume. I was aware of the effects I had on men, but being that he had so little contact with females, likely he was unable to open up easily. Was I intimidating him? I narrowed my eyes as I realized cracking his guy's mouth open was going to need a pry-bar. I needed to sweeten the deal further.

"Alright, how about this. Let's play a game. An easy one. Truth or dare. I ask you a question and you give me the truth. Then you get to ask me a question, and if I refuse, I'll do a dare. Does that sound fair?"

Another long moment.

"Deal."

I smiled, and then repeated my question. "So what should we call you? What name would you prefer?"

"My name is Jewan... But every calls me Big J. Or just J. Use that. Big J."

I smiled to him. "Thank you. Now that didn't hurt, did it?"

His face dropped into an immediate frown. "That ain't the way it works, Whitebread. Your game, your rules. You only get one question. Since you din't let me ask one, you do a dare!"

My jaw dropped in shock. I was at a loss for what I had done, until I thought about it. My efforts to be polite and even disarming had backfired. I had asked him a second question, and didn't realize what I was saying. I'd have to be damn more careful in the future. I had underestimated the man, and underestimated the environment. This was truly a jungle I suddenly realized, and if I wasn't careful, this tiger could eat me alive! I had the assumption that all crooks were somehow not as bright as those on the outside, but now I am learning that only the quick, the cunning, and the clever survive.

"Alright... you win, Big J. Your turn." And I gave him a gracious nod. I had to submit to this, and play the game honestly. If I didn't, there was no telling what he could, or would do to me before security came to my rescue. Not to mention my losing the interview, and heaven-forbid, my having to come back here.

"A'ight, girl." He started, looking me over. "You said you wuz a mussus. So why's yer man lettin' you in here? A girl like you? I wouldn't let you outta' mah sight."

I had to roll my eyes, not at him, but at myself. He had started to pick at a particularly sensitive area. My marriage. Off the block, he had found my weak point.

"Well... To be honest, he was very much against my coming back here. But my network pretty much made it mandatory, and I don't want to lose my job. He doesn't either. So here I am." I raised my hands, palms up, in a futile gesture.

"A'ight. So's yer turn."

"Thank you, Big J. It seems you are the leader in here, after watching the others. Why?"

He sat back, and tilted his head, silent, again, for a long few moments before he spoke.

"Simple. No one can take me. I can whip every ass in here, an' twice a week, easy." He simply folded his massive arms in front of him, as a display of power. I had to admit. Those arms looked like jackhammers, and every bit as powerful.

"My turn."

I nodded to him. "Go ahead."

"So yer husband doesn't like you bein' here. How's he like knowin' you like chocolate. A whoooole lotta' chocolate?"

Now I was just floored. How in the Hell did he know my fantasies? How did he know that I have had the occasional black lover? I gave a single, inadvertent laugh, and the shock was plain on my face.

"H-... how... how would you know?"

"EEERRRRR!" he made a buzzer sound and quick as a cat, he was on his feet, standing in front of me. "Wrong answer, Whitebread. Now you doin' a dare on me."

I was flummoxed! I was being beaten at my own game, using my own rules! I swallowed, now nervous and looked up from my seat as he towered over me. Before I could say anything, his hand had unzipped his prison jumper and he was shrugging it down off his shoulders, and to his trim waist. He was built like a chiseled warrior. Heavily muscled, low body-fat, and a perfect black Adonis. If we were on the outside, and he propositioned me, I would have a very hard time turning him down. On the other hand, turning him down right now was out of the question. Not if I wanted to get the story I needed to keep my job, or leave here intact.

"Kiss it." Was all he said, and he reached to the root of his man-meat and started to wave it at me. I was so shocked, I couldn't even move, until he started to slap me in the cheek with that thing. He was easily the biggest man I had ever seen. He was semi-flaccid and nearly ten inches long, and bigger than any I had ever seen. There was no way I could use one hand on his black spear.

The last blow of the head of his cock slapping against my cheek shook me from my reverie, and I tentatively reached up, my perfectly manicured glossy-red nails shining in sharp contrast to his ebony dark skin. I grasped him mid-span and looked up to him, as I lowered my face to the end of his manhood. I didn't need further guidance from him. Every girl knows where men like to have their cock kissed. So I made the most of this and placed a soft, pouty kiss on thick mushroom, and then ended with a teasing flick of my tongue along the slit, all the while keeping eye contact with him. I wasn't positive, but I thought I could taste some of his pre-emission.

"Wow... You are big..." I commented as I resumed my posture.

He was starting to sit back down as I had spoken and he grinned.

"Ok, my turn, Whitebread!" he exclaimed gleefully.

I held up a finger. "Nope. By the rules, we are asking questions. I simply made a comment. I never asked you about how big you are."

He grimaced. Round two went to me. So we were tied. Well, he was actually ahead, by a kiss. I was now sure I could taste his pre-cum on my lips as he sat back in his chair, his long, meaty black snake dangling over his thigh.

"Fine." He raised a meaty hand up in acceptance. "Go ahead."

"So tell us what your day is like here? What happens when you wake up?" And I gasped, then cut myself off, placing my fingers over my lips. I had screwed up again.

Big J never missed a beat, and he let the remainder of his jumpsuit hit the ground as he stepped out of it.

"Whitebread, you jes' can't help yerself, can ya?" He grinned as he approached me, a distance of a step.

"I'm gonna' be more than fair to ya', and I'll answer that, an' at the same time, you git ta' do yer dare. So lie down on the rack."

I sighed at this, and didn't even bother protesting. I was so used to follow-up questions, a standard journalistic practice, that I was kicking my own ass at this game. So I sat back and rotated myself, until I was lying flat on my back, my ankles crossed. I used my hands to again try and make the hem of my miniskirt longer, not that it helped, or would matter.

The bed creaked loudly as he joined me, and lay next to me, his long snake draped across my own thigh, now. I could feel his body heat, and his skin as it rubbed along mine. I looked up to him, as he looked down, resting from his side. He left his snake dangling on me as he spoke.

"Your dare is going to be a simple one. Who can last longer. I'm not gonna' rape you in here. Though it would be easy. Easiest ass I ever had. But I'm getting' out soon, an' I ain't gonna' fuck that up. So the dare is simple. I'm gonna' dry hump yer pussy. If you spray first, then I get to fuck ya'. If'n not, then you get to ask yer next question. I bet I kin make ya' cum in less than five minutes."

I sighed and nodded. "Alright."

It wasn't like I had a choice. Besides, something was just starting to make my motor running. I finally got a look at my cameraman, who was obediently recording, while he had his cell phone out. I assumed it was for his own personal records.

He placed his thick hand on my knee and pushed it over, and I slid my legs apart, so he could climb into position. His knees landed inside mine and his greater size forced me to widen my thighs, as well as lift them higher, until they were resting atop his well-muscled ones. It was at this moment I lamented my encounter with the warden. I was desperately wishing I was wearing underwear, any sort of panty, even a thong! Then he laid his shaft along my womanhood. I could feel his body heat, as he got himself comfortable on top of me. My face was more to his neck as he settled in, and with his first stroke, he began to speak.

"I start my day waking up, usually on my back. My bed is too small to get comfortable in, and so I usually sleep like shit. I haven't had a good night's sleep since my last conjugal visit 'bout a year an' a half ago. Not since my bitch wife ran off an' left me ta' rot in here."

I was feeling shockwaves of arousal through me as his cock slid gently up and down in long strokes. He was gentle, and just laying along my petals, yet the sensations were incredible. The length he sported was making me endure ever longer blasts of arousal as he, too, began to grow harder. I had a flash vision of what the camera was seeing, a petite redhead, her short white satin dress up to her waist, and a huge, strong, black thug imposing his will on her, and in her. It was like a bride being defiled on her wedding night, and that thought was a really bad one for my head. It sent a shockwave of pleasure through me, and I mewed, loudly. If he had heard me, he didn't let on as he continued to talk, and answer my question.

"Nex' I straighten up and wait fer' breakfast. Then I eat, and come back here, and deal wit' business. Then I exercise."

A question had been stirring in me, but it died along with more of my resistance. I had no idea how long it had been, but now I was feeling more and more of him, as I got more and more aroused. I tried to think of other things. Paying the bills, more of my husband's weirdness. Buying a dog. Anything except the powerful thrusts that were now making my leakage evident and my folds open for him. Yet my voice was betraying my will, and displaying how weak my resistance was, and it was crumbling.

Every breath I made was a long mew, or moan, and he started to use more and more of his length to slide along my open gates. He kept talking about his daily schedule. He would eat lunch, more business, whatever the hell that was. More exercise. He had a class to attend, to prepare him for life on the outside. His damned voice never broke stride, as mine started to grow higher, and louder. I was losing the battle.

His voice droned on, now, about the ability to watch television, though he wished he had waited a little while to get his. The Rhino ones were much better, he had said, and hoped he could work a deal with another convict. By now my hands were roving his body, and my knees had lifted higher. My heels were dangling as my calves were now parallel to the bed, and wide apart. His thrusting was growing more insistent, and my cries were, too.

"Three minutes." He spoke loudly, not breaking stride.

I didn't know if that meant time to go, or time elapsed. But I couldn't ask. His thrusts were growing even harder, and longer. His mushroom had started to probe at my opening a couple of times, now. I was in danger, but couldn't do anything about it, or say a word. I couldn't even speak, other than moan as his cock kept smacking my clit, or sliding along my slick furrows, and making me feel more and more of his passion.

My hips started to rise up to meet him, and to pull back when he withdrew, and that was when that thick mushroom fully engaged with my opening. I felt him, and the danger. If he thrust into me, I was doomed. I cried out.

"No! No! You aren't wearing a condom!"

It was stupid, my worrying about birth control, when I should have been telling him not to enter me. I was just not myself. I was better than this, and sharper. I was the intrepid reporter, doing the stories nobody else would touch. I was tough, I was strong, and in the next split second, I was fucked.

He sank his cock into me, the long, inexorable plundering of my pussy made my lungs inhale a full and audible gasp of air, while my eyes rolled back into my head. My back arched and my fingers started to claw into his ebony dark skin, his natural oils feeling like the same satin I was wearing. I had lost the contest, but I didn't care. All I felt was the sheer joy of a far superior man mating with a now-willing woman. Then his legs moved under me, and he curled his thighs to cradle my hips. I was now trapped inside the cell of his body encompassing mine, while his prison cell encompassed us both. Yet I loved it.

He took his time, or what would pass for patience, for a guy who hadn't gotten laid in eighteen months. He made me feel every fraction of an inch of his hardness, until I was full, and he bottomed out inside me. I had taken most of him, but there was just a last inch or so that wasn't going to fit. His new thrusts, deep inside me, made him growl in a new, deep voice. The walls now echoed with my soft voice whining in a loud unison as we fucked. My body doing its best to do what it was destined to do, while his did the same, to procreate, and to make new life. The fact that we were from different races, and far different socio-economic backgrounds meant nothing to nature and to our bodies. My tongue began to stick out from my ruby lips, waggling in a desperate attempt to passionately kiss my erstwhile lover, and yet all I wound up doing was lick at his neck, and his earlobe, while his hands began to grope me, and maul my ample breasts. His thumb and forefinger began to tweak and pinch my nipples which were already hard and erect grapes atop my impressive melons.

There was now a crowd at the cell entrance, with other convicts leering, watching and few even had their Johnsons out and were openly masturbating. I had a fleeting glimpse of this as his cock sent a shiver through me. A pre-cursor for what I was about to experience. That was when some reality took over.

"Please... please... pull out... I'm... not... on... the... pill..." I whined with each breath forming a single word.

"Your game, your rules, Whitebread. You lose, so I'm gonna' breed you good!"

His voice was almost snarling, all the while his fucking grew more intense, and I was being jolted harder and harder. It was starting to almost hurt, but just a little and it was a good pain. That was when I felt it, that familiar tingle from deep in my pelvis. It was the start of my demise.

His pounding inside me was growing faster and faster, now, and my voice was growing louder and louder... I started to beg him.

"Please... pull out! "Don't cum in me. Don't... make... me... your... biiiiIIITTTCCCCHHHH!" and I screamed in orgasm, my body shuddering violently as his pounding grew sporadic and frenetic. The heaviest blows signaled his own ejaculation, and I actually felt the increased heat inside me as his heavy jewels unloaded inside me, spurt after spurt of his black cum splashing against the walls of my pussy and my quivering cervix.

Every blast of his seed was being pushed further and further into me, filling my depths with a pool of his essence that my cervix was now sipping into. I was laying under him, gasping for air, my eyes softly leaking tears. I wasn't crying so much as just... spent. My own climax had been destructive to my psyche. I had no idea how intense a black man could make me orgasm, and I had no idea how much passion I could be infused with. I was laying there, cradled by his legs, when I started to try and get loose. I then felt his hands cradle under my shoulders and then curl and hold me to him. He held me still, as his cock was hard in me, plugging my vagina. A trickle was leaking, I was pretty certain, but no doubt not nearly the amount he had spent inside my body. Intentionally or not, he was trying to get me pregnant.

"Stay, Bitch." Was all he said, and so I did. I had to be compliant. I couldn't outsmart him, and I couldn't out-muscle him. What the hell else could he do to me? I was able to look at my cameraman, who was still running tape, but now talking emphatically on his cell phone.

------

"I tell you, I got pure gold here!" the cameraman spoke into the phone.

"You better be fucking sure, Dude." The Rhino Multimedia Center tech said. "We lost your feed before you got started. Don't let that tape outta your sight... Mr. Botha said he wants a personal viewing."

The cameraman nodded into the phone as he spoke.

"He won't be disappointed. He outsmarted her from the beginning. She never had a chance, I tell ya'. He had her on her back within five minutes, and he might have even made her pregnant. It's great stuff!"

"Fine... Then fold up your sticks and get your ass back here. Let the producer deal with her now."

------

As I lay there, recovering, I saw my cameraman begin to put his camera back into the bag, and head out. The asshole was leaving me here, alone with this thug! I struggled again, only to be held tightly in place.

"Listen... J... Big J... Alright... you got what you wanted. You got to have sex with me... Now lemme go..." My voice was softer, and now I was trying to plead my case for escape.

He remained silent, and yet held me tightly.

"Listen... Lover? I need to go..." I started to play it more feminine and coquettish. "Please?"

I finally got a response from him. It was the sound of his snoring.

------

Oskar Botha sat in his private viewing room, the remote control in his hand. It had been two days since his protégé` of sorts, Mrs. Suzi Recreant, had unwittingly created one of the best fuck-films ever. She had practically guaranteed herself stardom in both the newsroom, and now the cinematic interracial porn world. He clicked on the phone next to him.

"Where's she now?"

He listened and nodded softly. "Excellent. Get her transfer going. I want her into that new market in Southern California. The place is ripe for conditioning and a takeover."

He paused and then spoke. "Her husband? Who gives a shit. Send her a program and get her to leave his ass behind. I got no use for him anymore. But no divorce, she has to stay married to him... Viewers love to watch a wife getting banged for all she's worth."

He hung up the phone, satisfied. His plans for expansion were coming along nicely.