Sabah's Mother


I gasped as he ripped off my frilly blouse and popped the buttons on my little skirt. He made short work of my demi-bra and panties. "Keep the stocking and heels, bitch; they'll be right in character," he snarled.

"AAAAAH" I screamed in fear and pure ecstasy as he rammed his cock into me. I was wet, but it felt thicker and harder than I'd ever felt it. In just a few hard strokes I lost it. I started braying for him to fuck me, to fuck his worthless white whore, to split me with his fuck-ax. I was seconds away from the biggest orgasms of my life.

And then he stopped, or rather he slowed to an excruciatingly slow in-out movement. He wouldn't let me come down or get off. I looked pleadingly up at his cold eyes and hard face. "Is this what you want, Portia? A big black cock deep in your horny pussy? A cock you orgasm on again and again, screaming and bucking until you pass out?"

I was insane with the need to cum, as if I was being roasted alive over flames of lust. Then he stopped completely. "Well that is exactly what you cannot have."

"No, no, Jesse, baby. I want you, I need you!"

"Me, Portia, or the ten inches of me that's between your legs?"

"You, Jesse, you!"

"You haven't acted like it, Portia. You've treated me like a sex object. How flattering is it to be your warm, hard, muscle-powered dildo, your trophy stud? Good to show everyone that you're still sexy enough to snag a young black buck to keep you well fucked! I'm more than that, Portia, or I'm nothing. I love you, Portia. I want to be with you, cherish you, hold you, protect you ... marry you. I want you to live with me and be the mother of my babies. If all YOU want is a thick slab of meat, an interracial boy-toy, find yourself another Nigger to fuck!"

"No Jesse! Don't say that horrible word. I love you Jesse, darling, I love you!" Just the presence of his hard black cock in my pussy was still playing a symphony with my nerves and reflexes and emotions. I did want to climax, but I wanted more. I wanted it all. The orgasm I craved was but the voice of something deep within me saying this was the male who deserved to father the baby he wanted to put in me.

I was sobbing. "I'm sorry for the way I treated you. I don't deserve a man like you, but I want you. I will be the lover, the wife and the mother you want me to be. Keep me pregnant as long as you want. I'm yours if you will take me. Please, Jesse!"

"Yes, Portia, yes, yes, yes." Jesse was crying the same tears of joy as I, but now he was fucking me again. No, he was making love to me. I felt the difference. He was making my whole body sing, not just my pussy. I could feel the orgasm approach. Carried along by emotion but very deliberately too, I let down one of my eggs.

Whether it happened that night or not is academic. I let our lovemaking keep my pussy awash with his semen for days afterward. I don't need a doctor or a kit to tell me. Life, life planted in me by Jesse, is growing. The baby is a little boy, mortal like Jesse, not a daughter, like one of us. But I do know I am in love with this little life, as with his father, and that is another blessing I owe to Rod and to you, my darling, my only daughter.


Sabah was astonished. She cried but she had to laugh, too. Her mother, the mature party girl, pregnant and domesticated. Well time would tell how domesticated she was. It was hard to imagine Mother staying home and keeping house. Jesse might have his work cut out. Now, if he did keep her knocked up ...

Sabah was happy for Mother and certainly understood what could happen when love and sex got mixed up. She looked down at the small card in her hand and was tempted to call Mother with her news, but decided that Rod should know first.

A few nights after she had Fed, she, too, had released an egg. As it was her first, she would bear a daughter.

A new cycle was beginning.

The End

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