The Fertility Sprites

After that, they fucked most days. Rosie either didn't know or, more likely, didn't care. Paul began to creep into Samantha's bed at night, making her bed creak loudly with the force of his lovemaking, but Rosie, in the bedroom next door, never said a word.

. . .

In October, two weeks early, Rosie went into labour. It was an easy, natural birth at which Paul was present. Because of the baby's early arrival and Rosie's history, they remained in hospital for a few days. Paul and Samantha, given the use of the whole house and unsure whether Rosie would want to resume marital relations post partum, fucked in every room, several times a day. He had discovered that if he sucked on her nipples, which were always hard, she would cum in seconds and gave her numerous orgasms. The sprites showed great restraint during this time and largely left Samantha alone while she was home, although leaving the house without them was still impossible.

When at last Rosie returned home with little Thomas, she still had no interest in sex. He was a difficult baby, seemingly always crying, and breastfeeding was proving a problem. He had difficulty latching on and Rosie was not producing enough milk.

The baby's continual crying, coupled with the sprites' suckling, was having an unexpected effect on Samantha. Her swollen breasts had begun to leak milk, just a little at first, but one morning when Rosie was out at baby clinic with Thomas and Samantha and Paul were kissing under the shower, the stimulation of the warm water on her glands resulted in a gush of milk from both breasts. Paul stared in wonder, lifted one breast to his mouth and sucked in warm, sweet milk.

"Fucking hell, Samantha!" he exclaimed.

"Sympathetic lactation," she muttered, embarrassed.

Paul laid her on the bed and sucked at her breasts for half an hour, his cock engorged, before turning her on to her stomach and entering her from behind.

When Rosie returned and the baby's crying again sounded through the house, Samantha lay again in her room, milk welling from her nipples, and the sprites drank, chattering and gurgling.

. . .

Two weeks later, Rosie was a wraith. She was up all night with Thomas and the rows between her and Paul about feeding were constant. He had begun to give Thomas bottles of formula, and she was furious. She had to admit, though, that it was necessary. She just couldn't keep the baby satisfied.

It also meant that others could share responsibility for feeding. Twice, Samantha had given Rosie a night off, bottle feeding Thomas when he woke in the night. Rosie still didn't sleep well, her maternal instinct refusing to allow her to sleep through Thomas's crying, but she didn't have to leap out of bed, and her breasts were less chafed and sore.

After he had cum inside her, Samantha said to Paul, "Now Thomas is on formula, why don't you take Rosie away for a weekend and leave the baby here with me. It would be a chance to reconnect - even start to have sex again?"

He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her. "Are you fed up with me?"

She smiled and kissed him. "Never. I'm crazy about you. But you're *her* husband, not mine, and this can't go on forever." Tears pricked at her eyes at the thought and spilled down her cheeks. Paul kissed them away, stroking her swollen breasts.

"It's a good idea, Sam."

And so Samantha stood on the front step, Thomas in her arms, waving Rosie and Paul off for their weekend away. Rosie was crying but trying to smile.

Once they were out of sight, Samantha took the baby inside. He was sleepy and she settled him in his cot for a nap. It was a little late and she knew she'd pay for it in the night, but it was just one weekend. Later, she held him in her arms, singing and crooning to him, bathed him and put him to bed.

Sure enough, Thomas woke screaming at two in the morning. Samantha staggered to his nursery, the sprites hanging from her breasts and clitoris and wriggling in her cunt. They stopped sucking when they saw Thomas in his crib, and he fell silent and stared back at them. Disconcerted, Samantha pushed the creatures from her breasts and lifted Thomas in her arms, carrying him back to her own bed.

She propped herself up against the headboard, cradling the baby in her arms, and offered him a bottle. He spat out the teat, turning his face away and nuzzling at her breast. The sprites clustered on the pillow, staring at him, chattering away as always. Thomas's little fists waved in the air and his mouth sought Samantha's nipple. Startled, she felt him latch on, sucking her breast into his mouth and he began to suckle, drawing the milk from her nipple. She watched him, mesmerised, feeling a pulling sensation in her clit as he sucked. As she watched, in the dim light, he seemed to be changing. She blinked and shook her head then looked back. The baby's fingers had lengthened and were cupped around her breast. His skin had darkened and grown coarser and his body had stretched and expanded. The changeling looked up at her with black eyes, forcing its knee between her thighs, spreading them.

The creatures on the pillow giggled and clasped their bony little fingers together as they watched, enrapt. The beast at Samantha's breast took its thick grey penis in its hand and rammed it into Samantha's wet pussy as the sprites cheered. It thrust into her as she struggled and wept beneath it, once, twice, three times. Its cock was huge, bumping at her cervix and opening it up. Samantha bucked and thrashed in orgasm, and the beast flooded her womb with its inhuman seed.