Family Disrupted Pt. 03

I had no other alternative: I let the scene play forward in my brain. I saw Samantha suck on his cock and lick his balls. I saw him kiss and knead her breasts with his finger tips. All the while, I stroked myself like I had just discovered the art of masturbation. I had nothing quite else to do.

Trish came to visit a few times: not with the results, but with some gossip about the town. The basketball team had been saddened by the loss of their faggot, and the cheerleading team dismayed that they were now expected to please the teammembers the way my son used to.

Additionally, Maestro's dog food had been such a success with his litter that he was investigating how else he could get such high quality product made at a greater scale.

"Lots of wasteful white boys in this world who would be better served as chow," Trish remarked.

All in all, even though things were bleak, I held out hope that soon, the sun would shine through with some kind of miraculous amazing light.

--

The miracle did arrive, a few days later, when Trish showed up to the prison in the visiting room. Behind her, on chairs, were Samantha and Carter, dressed in street clothes, holding hands. It pained me to see them touching, but I knew that if Trish had brought them here, that could only mean one thing.

"The results came back," Trish said, "Somehow, you were right, Drew. You are the father of Samantha's child."

Carter sat stoic, not even moving. Samantha raised a hand to her mouth in shock.

"It can't... you can't mean..."

"Yes," Trish said, "Your child is Drew's, a white baby. It seems that Drew's ability to eat his cum out of your pussy was unsuccessful. One of those little rascals made its way to your ovum, creating a child."

I was beaming with delight. Was this really the answer to everything? I would have a child with Samantha again. I would earn a compassionate release. I would be out in the world, with my beautiful wife once more. I was going to rejoin the life I deserved.

Samantha, unexpectedly, ran out crying. I couldn't understand what was wrong. Carter went following her, and soon, Trish after.

The next week I bore with stoic determination. I knew good things were coming, so it didn't bother me that I didn't see Samantha or Trish or anyone that week. Soon, everything would work out, I was certain.

Then, Samantha returned. She asked to see me in the conjugal trailer, which delighted me. Now that we knew the baby was mine, and she was still committed to me, I knew we could finally reunite. We could finally fuck.

In the trailer, I found Samantha dressed like a present. A seductive look on her face. A tiny lingerie bra, covering not even a fraction of her nipples, that looped around her back and hugged her in a tight sexy embrace. And crotchless leggings, space wide open for her juicy pussy and asshole to breathe. She lay on the bed with a devious smile and beckoned me forward.

I didn't have to be told twice. Immediately, I was sucking at her breasts, her hot moans in my ear encouraging me. She gyrated her hips against my knee and I felt the wetness of her pussy.

"I missed you," I said, and she leaned in close to my ear.

"Fuck me, please," she begged, "I'm dying to be fucked."

I pulled my hard cock out of my prison jump suit. Standing over Samantha, my hard cock pointing, I realized how important this woman was to me. She was my literal everything, a true goddess, a ray of light that melted my brain and fired up my cock.

I plunged into her sweet warm pussy and cried out in pleasure.

"Fuck, that's so nice!" she said, "I really needed to be fucked!"

I gave Samantha my all. I squeezed her hips close to me. I spanked her bottom. I twisted my cock, rubbing it against her clit, feeling her wetness seep out onto the sheets.

I was in heaven. For twenty full minutes, my cock was in the pussy of an angel. Her breasts warm and soft against my face. I considered it possible that I had died and this was some kind of final reward for all that I had suffered.

"Mmmm," she said, feeling my pace quicken, "I want you to cum."

"Inside of you?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"All over my tits."

I so badly wanted to coat her massive breasts with my load. I pulled out my cock confidently and stroked out my final few strokes until I exploded with wet sticky sperm all over my wife's breasts. They splattered her with hot cum and she moaned out with pleasure.

"That was amazing," I said, laying down in the sheets. I could have drifted out into the most restful sleep.

Instead, Samantha sat up, folding the sheets to her chest.

"That was... alright," she said. I sat up too now. Something was wrong.

"Just alright? Haven't you been as horny as I was all this time?"

"Yes, indeed," she said.

"Then... have you been cheating on me? Did someone else fuck you while I've been away?"

Samantha shook her head no. "No one has been in my pussy, my ass, or even my mouth," she said, "Not since before you were in jail."

"Then what?" I asked, "What's wrong?"

"The sex... it was just... fine. It wasn't amazing." I realized she was nodding to herself now.

"I think, what this is telling me, is something I should have listened to a long time ago."

She stood up next to the bed, the sides of her breasts visible behind the sheet.

"I think, Drew, that maybe our marriage has changed. You used to be a man that could turn my pussy into a sopping excited mess. That we could go so long and only have this lukewarm semi-orgasmic session... I think, it proves something."

My heart was beating faster than ever.

"I think... it's possible... that maybe, Drew, I don't love you anymore."

This was completely out of left field. What was she saying?

"But you're having my baby... we proved, I proved, that the father--"

"Drew, I want to be honest with you. As soon as I learned that you were the father, I strove straight to Mexico. There was a doctor there, who could perform a procedure on me, that would..."

I couldn't believe it. I wasn't going to be a father?

"Why would you do something like that?"

"It was just a hunch," she said about the decision to forgo having my baby, a baby that she was excited to have when she thought it was Carter Smith's, "But now, after this, I think I've proved that it was the right decision."

She began to gather her clothes. I raced after her begging her to please stay. We needed to talk this out!

"What is there to say? You're in prison. I'll be out there, with Carter--"

"How is Carter still allowed to be out?!"

"They're not going to just put him back in. He hasn't done anything wrong--"

"What? He was out to father a child, and now, there's no baby--"

"The man is free, Drew. And you're not. Don't have such sour grapes."

Samantha wiped all of my semen from her breasts, redressed herself.

"I'll be in contact Drew. Or, well, my lawyers. I think it will be easier if we let them handle this."

"No, Samantha wait. I still love you. Don't do this."

"I have to," Samantha said, "I have to follow my heart."

I begged her to stay.

"Don't be such a pathetic baby, Drew," she said, "I was hoping to remember you fondly. But all this, this tantrum... it just makes me see you as the shrimp dicked little baby that you are."

With that, Samantha walked out of the trailer, out of the prison, and out of my life entirely.

As I returned to my cell, I swore to myself: this was not over. I was going to win Samantha back, or at the very least regain my dignity... even if it killed me.