Dara Pulls a Train-by She Cries (M+/F exhib, reluc, preg,
cuck)

By She Cries
Any feedback is welcome at she_cries@ftml.net.  
You can find my home page at /~she_cries/

7-9-04

     It wasn’t that Kyle had a small dick, it was just that
it was completely unremarkable.  Maybe that, mixed with his
average height and slender build, gave him a predisposition
towards being insecure about the size of his member.  All I
am sure of is that as long as I’ve known my husband, he’d
brag about the size of his dick in ways that made me want to
smack him silly.  At one point I threatened to break up if
he didn’t calm down the rhetoric.  I mean, there’s only so
many times you can listen to your husband tell complete
strangers about the rapture you find at the end of his
enormous cock.

 -----------------------------------------------------

            “Dara’s never complained have you?”

            I shrugged, trying to pretend this conversation
was not happening on a bus, with a scruffy middle-aged
trailer park denizen who was using the conversation as an
excuse to check me our overtly, as if assessing the possible
scenarios in which I might wind up at the end of my
husband’s love-pole.

            “I mean, size isn’t everything,” Kyle would
always find a way to include.

            “Kyle, can we talk about something else?”

            “After all, it took a while for Dara to get used
to it.”

            It took a while for Kyle to invest enough
foreplay to get me ready for a finger, actually.

            “When she took it all the way I knew she was the
one, you know?”

            The last thing I recall was the grizzled
stranger gawking knowingly at me, no doubt substituting me
for internet models engorged on vacuum pump inflated porn
star dicks.  I could feel the clothes burning away from my
body and wanted nothing less than the complete evaporation
of my body.

            “Dara, this isn’t our stop.”

  ----------------------------------------------------------
---

            That was over a year ago, and the last
conversation of its sort, upon condition of our engagement.
Kyle had been an ideal fiancé in every other respect.  Kyle
wasn't my husband yet, but the wedding was soon, and I’d
taken to calling him that since we signed the paperwork a
month ago so he could get on my health plan through my work.
Kyle, you see was a photographer who went to art school, so
I wore the pants in the family, which is fitting, since Kyle
had a particular fetish for my strap-on.

            I don’t think I got off on it nearly as much as
my man, but when he sat on my vibrating cock, knowing it’s a
full inch longer than his, he'd explode on my belly and we'd
both cum like crazy.

            Then we'd whisper our fantasies to one another,
what we were thinking about, if anything, when we came.

            Usually I'd lie, and not tell him if I thought
of another guy.  Kyle did the same, though I’d spied him
jerking off to porn on his computer more than a couple
times.  Usually the vibrator did enough for me, like my cock
does it for Kyle.

            Sometimes we'd fuck like normal people, but
where this story picks up, I was on a fertility regimen.  We
wanted kids, and I’m not ovulating properly, so I take pills
that make me dilate more, so more sperm can get further up
inside me.  Since we wanted to wait until we were married
(and ideally, that Kyle had a better job than Video Store
Clerk), we only fuck when I’m on my period, which is about
as appealing to me as fucking while I’m on the crapper
(which incidentally reminds me to mention that my ass is
strictly one-way.  Kyle got all the back-door action in our
house).  I don’t feel bad, since it gave Kyle a week to get
his internet porn fix, which he clearly couldn’t go too long
without.  I don’t know what the appeal is, what with a warm
flesh and blood creature like me in the house, but I guess
I’m just not as pretty as some of the models he liked to
look at.

 ----------------------------------------------

            Now, this party we were at.  It was mostly my
workmates.  Not all degreed professionals like me, but about
half the people there were co-workers, and almost all of my
project team (really, wage slaves with fancy titles to make
them feel less expendable).  I don’t normally like work
mixers, because as management you are stuck sucking up to
the higher ups, and letting your lesser suck up to you.  You
all laugh, drink too much, and talk shit incessantly.

            But this wasn’t that kind of a mixer, it was a
former employees housewarming party, and it felt for all the
world that I was at a college bash:  20 or 30 people hanging
out drinking beers.  Even the chill factor that happened
when I’d walk in on a conversation with some of my employees
was mitigated by the fact that to half the party, I was just
another 20-something trying to cut loose.

            You see, one of my professors had started a
company, and though nobody knew it, I slept with him a
couple times.  Lots of people like to brag that I got the
job based on my academic achievements; I got the academic
achievements because I fucked my professor.

            Ironically, I spread my legs for my teacher
because my ex-boyfriend was failing his class.  After
getting his A, my faithful ex dumped me for a 18 year-old
freshman bitch named Wendy (her name will be relevant
later).  I used to blame him (the ex) for thinking I was too
old, but in retrospect, sleeping with a man twice your age
will up your standards for your boyfriends, even if you’re
already at the ripe old age of 24.

            So here I was, a project manager for a very
successful start-up, and half my subordinates were older
than me, as well educated than me, and yes, better
qualified.

            Still, I knew damn well about the glass ceiling
in America.  It wasn’t as if I was on a level playing field
to start with.

            Whatever.  That was the end of that.  I helped
start the company, I sacrificed a lot of good job offers to
stick with it, and the professor never once mentioned our
past, much less tried anything improper once I became his
employee.  As for me I learned my lesson never to sleep
around again.  That was four years ago, and now I was
totally in love and ready to marry Kyle-who knew nothing of
my prior indiscretion.  As far as he knew I’d only slept
with three men before him, and he was the last lover I’d
ever have.



            I was working on my second Cosmo when I found
Kyle smoking on the back porch with a couple of guys and a
young girl that I think was the little sister of one of my
Q&A testers.  I recognized the banter immediately,

            “No shit, it took ten minutes to get the whole
thing in.”

            Three guys standing around comparing their
cocks.  Nothing unusual here, and Kyle wasn’t exactly
prohibited from doing it on his own, just from involving me
in any way whatsoever.

            What got my attention, however, was the girl who
was clearly working Kyle with all the intensity her little
teen body could muster (which was quite substantial for a
girl that young).  Kyle was clearly enjoying her fake shock,
her little pats on the arm, her hips brushing against his,
and clearly her c cup chest.  She was clearly getting all
the signals she needed to keep pressing the argument home.

            Kyle, you see, is a very handsome man.  He may
be a little skinny, and he is developing a belly, but he has
the most striking features, a deeply charismatic smile, eyes
to die for, and the most artful and elegant hands.

            And this little bitch was drinking up every work
Kyle said:

            “No, the trick isn’t just having a thick member,
it’s still gotta be your technique.”  Kyle had developed a
knack for bragging about his dick while acting like he was
dismissive of it, “Even if I was average, or even below
average,” I rolled my eyes, “I’d consider it crass to just
stick it in.” He glanced at the adolescent slut hanging on
his every word, “No offense, Wendy.”

            I cringed at the name as the cute little bimbo
giggled and jiggled her perky teenage tits.

            “That’s okay, I’ve had sex lots of times.  I
mean, I hate it when guys just stick it in.  Then I just
want them to get it over with.”

            I grinned at the uncomfortable silence as three
guys in their 20s and 30s tried not to imagine fucking the
little girl who was metaphorically spreading her legs in
front of them.  I could just imagine the pride she must have
felt at the three pup tents that must have sprung up next to
her as she giggled and bumped into my husband and his
companions.

            Unnoticed I had decided to leave, to finish my
drink and get Kyle out of there before he made a scene, but
a voice came from behind the group of smokers,

            “So exactly how big is this dick of yours, man?”

            White trash would have described Andrew, but I
wasn’t feeling generous.  Not exactly ugly, so much as
unappealing.  Andrew had a big, stocky body, the kind that
takes up too much space on the bus seat when you’re a
slender girl like myself, and makes you feel like your about
to be steamrollered just because you got too close.  Andrew
had a perpetual unshaved look, and for some reason really
short, close-cropped hair.  He sort of looked like a marine,
but he lacked the healthy glow that men in shape have.
Andrew looked like he belonged on the back of a backhoe, or
like someone you’d expect to be showing crack as they bent
over your toilet looking for leaks.

            Andrew also ran the mail room at the main
office.  He was the guy you called in whenever you needed
something heavy moved…

            Kyle acted like the question was directed at all
of them, and I drifted back into the shadows, curious how my
husband to be would handle this, since it was clearly a
question for the one who’d been doing most of the bragging.

            “I don’t like to talk about that in front of
women.” Kyle replied, gentlemanly.

            “The little slut has seen lots of dick.  How big
is it.”

            Wendy snarled and the guys just shuffled and
shifted their feet.  I really hated Andrew, but I had to
respect him calling the girl out for what she was making
herself to be.

            Instead of defending the girl, Kyle said, “I’ve
never measured it.”  I hoped that no one ever insulted me in
front of Kyle.  Not that I needed him to defend me.

            Andrew grinned, “For a guy who talks a lot about
his dick I find that hard to believe.”

            Andrew stood up.  He wasn’t as tall as my
fiancé, but he was so much stockier that Kyle seemed to
diminish.  The two other guys took an involuntary step back,
and I noticed that they were my employees.  Both CS majors
who were doing minimum wage work in testing and sales in the
hopes of someday moving up into my position.  My fiancée
really knew how to pick his audience.

            “So let’s see it.”  Andrew declared.

            “Look man,” Kyle murmured, looking at Wendy as
if she were some sort of appeal.

            I immediately felt a rush.  A thrill of
expectation at my husband’s vulnerability.  On the surface,
I was ashamed of him, and embarrassed that his bragging had
finally humiliated him, as it surely would, but on the other
hand, the thought of him exposing himself to these three men
exited the hell out of me.

            If only the little bitch wasn’t there, it might
have been perfect.

            “The girl wants to see it, don’t you?” Wendy
shrugged.

            “Look man, I don’t think this is appropriate,”
Kyle protested.

            “Talk is talk, lets whip it out and judge.”

            Kyle moved away from Andrew’s imposing presence,
“Look, even if I would, I mean, it’s cold, in front of a
bunch of guys, I mean.”

            “Hey Wendy, you think you could make your
boyfriend hard?”

            I cringed, going flush and ready to knock
Andrew’s block off for the audacity to call that little
whore my Husband’s girlfriend, as if he’d fuck that little
infant slut! But the thrill I got as I watched my fiancé
diminish before Andrew’s stature and girth.  Kyle stood
there frozen, and I felt real flames of passion igniting
within me.

            “Go ahead,” Andrew said to the girl, “Show us
what he’s got.”

            I won’t say I was surprised to see that it took
the girl all of a split second to get my fiancé hard, even
his erection eluded me at times when I wanted more
traditional sex, but I still felt a cold and bitter
disappointment as Kyle stood stock still and let the girl
extract his member, rock hard, and stood there trying not to
groan and pant as she gently stroked it.

            “It’s not that big.” Wendy said matter of
factly.

             Andrew burst out laughing, and all bitterness
and shame for my husband vanished in a hot flush of anger
and I stormed into the middle of the group, “Okay Andrew,
let’s see how you measure up.” I spat out coldly and
menacingly at my subordinate.

            “Dara, I…” Andrew began meekly.

            The need to defend my husband to be overshadowed
the sexual thrill I got from him being humiliated, “Let’s
have it out.  If you’re going to mock and ridicule my
husband I expect you’ve got a pretty good package, don’t
you?”

            “I didn’t know…” Andrew began, but I cut him
off.

            “Bitch.” I said to the girl still clutching my
husband’s rock-hard penis, but I never finished the
sentence.  Suddenly my husband began to groan and he
exploded, gurgling like a baby for a minute before showering
me with burst after burst of his frothy white jism.

            My husband to-be looked quite sad and pathetic
all of a sudden, but it was no worse than I felt seeing a
child of a woman stroke him to masturbation with nary an
effort, a trick I had never managed.  Hearing the barely
contained laughter all around me I felt my insides turn
cold, and more than anything else I wanted to turn that
sickening feeling on Andrew.

            My slender cream colored dress was a mess, and I
could feel the hot sperm from my husband’s puny, withering
cock growing cold from my tits down to my knees.  I couldn’t
even imagine feeling more humiliated.

            I think Andrew knew exactly what was going on,

            “Well, Dara, still want to see what I’ve got.”

            “You’ve got something to show me, let’s see it.”
I retorted with more cocky arrogance than I felt.

            Andrew slowly, casually undid the top snap on
his jeans, “It takes more than a couple tugs to get me
hard.”

            I gestured to the little whore who somehow
remained spotless though I was covered in jizz, “Come on
honey, let’s see what Andrew’s packing.”

            Obedient little whore than she was the girl
started towards my subordinate, but he held up a hand, “All
due respect to your man here, Dara, but I’m not going to
fool around with a minor.”

            “You already solicited her to jerk off my
husband, asshole.” I barked at Andrew’s arrogant smile.

            Andrew had begun unzipping his pants, suddenly
stopped, “Hey, if you don’t want to see what I’ve got…”

            I glared at him just long enough to let him know
what I thought of his sad threat to deprive me the pleasure
of seeing his floppy little cock (I deliberately avoided
looking in my husband’s direction as I thought this).  “If
you don’t think you can measure up…” I replied, finally.

            He grinned, and suddenly I grew afraid!  What if
he had everything my husband claimed to have.  He said, “I
don’t want you to do anything you wouldn’t be comfortable
doing.”

            “I can do it.” My husband’s ‘girlfriend’ chimed.

            I spun on the girl and shoved her gently back to
my fiancé, “Go play with your boyfriend,” I said, watching
my husband-to-be shrink an inch.  “Don’t let this guy
manipulate you.”

            “So you think you’re up to the task?” Andrew
purred in a cruel, honeyed voice behind me.

            “What task?”

            Making eye contact Andrew seemed to dominate me
completely, because I couldn’t look away, and I couldn’t
help but feel every bit the slut that I thought the little
tramp behind me was.  “Can you get me hard?” He asked.

            I don’t understand what I was thinking, except
that I’ll never judge a guy for bragging too much, “I’ve
never failed to get a man hard, Andrew.”

            “Really?” Andrew asked.

            “Really.” I said with more confidence than I
felt.

            “You know, if I’m going to be showing you what
I’ve got, I ought to get to see what you’ve got.”

            I shrugged, “Well, I’m not the one trying to
prove anything here.”

            “Okay then,” Andrew said and zipped up, snapping
his pants.  He turned, as if to walk away,

“Wait.”  I ordered, not knowing why I said anything.  This
was my out, this was my way free of further humiliating my
husband and myself.  I just couldn’t believe Andrew was
packing anything worth bragging about.

“He showed you his,” I continued, “It’s your turn.”

Andrew shrugged this time, “I’m not the one trying to prove
anything here.”  He grinned, and I felt as if my two
employees behind me were grinning too.

I looked around.  The party was still going on in earnest,
but out on this back patio felt like the whole world could
be watching.  Besides, this was the smoking porch.  Any one
of my fellow employees could walk out on us,

“Okay,” I said, “but not here.”

“Oh, so it’s okay for me to whip it out in front of
everybody, but your body is a temple?” Andrew replied,
clearly not understanding my fear.  I quickly explained my
fears.

“All right.” He said, “We’ll go round the side to finish,
but you take that dress off right here.”

My mind and body were buzzing.   It had never occurred to me
to take my dress off, maybe just to hike up my skirt, or
flash him my boobs.  I’ve barely got a B cup, and I hardly
ever wear bras.  Under that dress I had nothing on but a
baby blue g-string which I wore strictly because I was
planning on seducing my husband that night after the party.
A discussion about comparing penis sizes had somehow spun
down to me, naked, on the porch, in front of my
subordinates.

I bit back a retort, knowing that any protest would
eradicate my chances of   exposing him and humiliating him.

I glanced back at my employees, diverted my gaze from my
fiancé’s eyes, and found myself staring at the little slut,

“Let’s see what you’ve got,” she said, mouthing the last
word, “bitch.”  She was as nervous as I, and I could see the
tremor on her lips as she forced the last bit out, but I
shivered nonetheless, to feel the tables turn so rapidly.

            Andrew had to know I would follow this through,
or else he wouldn’t be pushing me so hard.  I on the other
hand had no idea how far I was willing to go, but the shame
of seeing my betrothed so humiliated drove me so crazy that
I had to do something.  Getting Andrew’s cock out seemed to
me to be the best way to do that.

I can only imagine what other girls might have done at that
point, but without another comment I unlaced the strap
around my neck and let the dress fall to the floor.  The
girl looked at my breasts and started giggling.

I felt a crushing, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach,
to be so belittled by this girl.  Mark, a poor guy who I’d
delegated to data entry for sales figures was agape, and
clearly more impressed with my body than Wendy was.  The
sensation that my waxed legs and pubes were being devoured
by one of my wage-workers making a fifth of my pay sent
chills up my spine.  I felt his eyes, like rough, groping
paws, fondling my jiggling breasts, and caressing my
nipples, while Tyler, one of my Q&A testers groped the curve
of my buttocks with his gaze.

Andrew’s voice cut through the stillness like an electric
shock up my back, “Why don’t you turn around so Tyler can
take a look.”

I felt a chill as my body obeyed, but defiantly, even as I
swung on the young man, his eyes and mouth agape, I shot
back, “Why don’t you show me what you’ve got, Tyler.”

Okay, so it was easier to go after my underling than to
stick up to Andrew just then.

As Tyler stumbled with his zipper, no doubt hoping, like the
desperate geek he was, that he would get the same treatment
my husband just got from Wendy, Andrew said, “Yeah, Mark,
let’s see who’s got the biggest cock.”

I turned and barked at Andrew, “I’m still waiting for you to
show some meat, Andrew.” But even as the words came out,
they shriveled in my throat.  Tyler’s cock was out, and
proudly saluting my nearly naked body.  He was bigger than
Kyle by quite a bit.

“N-nice one, Tyler,” I murmured, though I had tried to sound
cocky, and bitchy.  Involuntarily, as if my body were
anticipating Andrew’s will, I reached for it, caressing the
head, and I felt a rush of pride as the boy moaned.  His
cock was thick, and really hard.  Pulsing, and erect, like
Kyle’s was so seldom.  I thought with disdain that the image
of this cock inside me, bursting its load and slipping out
of me in short order, but I couldn’t help but stroke it.  I
thought of Wendy- No, I saw Wendy, still stroking my
husband’s cock, hard again, against all my previous
experience, and was determined to show that Tyler was no
more of a man than my husband in spite of his larger dick.

As I stroked Tyler, I felt my employee’s hands roaming my
body, and I made no move to stop him.  His warm hands felt
good as the cool night air stripped away the heat from my
skin.  The electric sensations pulsing through me came to
the surface as Tyler groped my breasts.  The boy started
thrusting, and every time we made eye contact, I imagined
that this man was fucking me with his thick, hard cock, and
that my legs were wide open, my pussy stretched over his
fullness.  I found myself panting as I jerked my arm in a
steady, rhythmless motion, serving this boy’s sex drive as
he exploded onto my belly.

I don’t know how much Tyler had to drink, or how long it had
been since he’d been with a woman, but I felt the cold chill
return even as he gushed stream after stream of his white,
ropy spunk onto my naked body.  Wendy’s giggles, and
Andrew’s mocking applause sliced through me, colliding with
the arousal coursing up my loins and into my chest.  I let
go of Tyler and stepped back, bumping into Mark, who grabbed
on to me, saving me from stumbling and falling, even as his
bare member ground into my bare bottom.

“Hey Wendy,” Andrew asked, “You think you can get Dara’s
hubby off faster than she can do Mark?”

The girl fixed me with a condescending gaze, “No problem.”

Naturally the girl was judging my performance with Tyler
again her performance with my man, who it seemed came almost
instantly.  I knew the girl’s challenge was a fool’s bet-
Kyle had already just come once, and Mark had yet to begin.
But I found myself groping for Mark’s manhood even as Wendy
started stroking my husband.

Wendy stuck her tongue in my husband’s ear and said, “Come
on baby, we can beat her.”  Kyle looked at me with wide-eyed
shock, then at the girl, and Wendy shoved her tongue in his
mouth.

Standing basically naked and jerking off an employee of mine
made me feel about an inch high as my husband to be sucked
face with a teenager, but Andrew’s leering gaze drove me on,
even though it was fixed on my jiggling breasts, my legs,
slightly flared for balance, and the cum dribbling into my
crotch.  It was clear that he wanted nothing less than to
fuck me.  It was also clear that I was giving him everything
he asked for, and more.

My back to Mark, out of courtesy for the spunk on my belly,
I used my butt to grind against his notably thinner and
shorter cock (though he was still as big as Kyle).  But
Wendy and my husband were already starting to moan, and I
could recognize Kyle’s groans as he approached orgasm.  I
took Mark’s hand and put it on my breast and he proceeded to
maul it, but I could hear him breathing harder.  It was
easier to jerk him off, though my arm was dead tired,
because his thinner cock took less effort.

“Do you want to fuck me, baby?”  I heard Wendy whisper into
my betrothed’s ear as she slipped behind him.  I faced my
husband, watching the rapture in his face as he failed
utterly to fight for his wife’s pride and resist the girl.
She grabbed Kyle’s balls and jerked him hard in a rampant,
frenetic pace, and I watched Kyle peaking.

I found myself pushing my ass into Mark’s cock, desperate
not to let this little whore outdo me with my own husband.
I hooked the string going down my ass to one side and slid
Mark’s little member over my asshole and felt it sliding
against my pussy.  Realizing I was wet startled me, but not
as much as how good it felt to have the head of a man’s
shaft pushing into the opening of my sex.  I groaned,
imagining Kyle entering me from behind, but quickly realized
that I was about to get fucked by an employee in front of
two guys and my fiancé, not to mention a teenage girl.  I
felt Mark shudder, and was tempted to let him finish, but
months of fertility drugs and constant attention to my
cycles forced me to my senses and I pulled off.  I missed
the warmth of Mark’s hot cock immediately, and it was only
Andrew’s dominating grin that kept me from servicing myself
as I turned to my newest lover.

I dropped to my knees, “You want me to suck it?” I asked
Mark.  I knew I had hit Mark’s mark as the boy gasped and
started convulsing.  I opened my mouth, leaning forward to
tease the boy with my tongue, and Andrew stood before us,
staring at me as I abased myself for this stupid contest.
His eyes locked with mine I knelt mesmerized for a moment,
and Mark’s cock thrust forward of its own volition and
instead of a teasing lick I enveloped the tiny shaft, taking
the whole thing in my mouth as my employee groaned and
moaned.

My husband started moaning and gasping, and I turned my head
to look, but Mark’s fast hand wouldn’t let me extract his
cock from my mouth and I pulsed my head in his service even
as I watched my husband explode not a foot from my face.
Kyle isn’t a gusher, but three streams of his hot sperm
doused my hot face and neck before his gush tapered and the
rest of his font landed on my chest.

“I win” Wendy declared, and gave my husband another open-
mouthed kiss.

But the shame of defeat didn’t stop the humiliation of
abasing myself for Mark, and I found myself avoiding the
sight of Kyle being molested by a teenager by immersing
myself in the act of satisfying Mark.  I had never taken a
mouthful before, though Kyle had often begged me to.  I
would repay his lack of faith by letting Mark serve me my
first real dose of manhood.  Even as I heard the back door
open and close, more smokers probably, I didn’t stop until
Mark grabbed me-choking me, and held me fast to take his
load.

But Kyle never saw it.  As I gulped down shot after shot of
Mark’s bitter, acrid sperm, even as I gagged and spat up so
it dribbled out my mouth and down my chin.  Kyle was
enveloped in the girl’s embrace.  I sat down on the porch,
trying to ignore the to silhouetted figures lighting up over
by the door, but unable to stop wondering who else would
witness the lengths I would go to save my fiancé’s pride.
Meanwhile Mark’s cock continued to pulse little while
globules onto my tongue.  I lapped them up while Andrew
watched.  I lapped them up for Andrew, and I let my arms
fall so he could watch Mark’s sperm join my legal husband’s
as it dripped off my chin onto my bare breasts.  I spread my
legs so he could see my cum soaked panties, where Tyler’s
gift had run down.

The cum of three men oozed down my body, but my husband to
be sported his third hard-on of the night as he groped the
healthy chest and tight ass of a high school student,
completely oblivious of me.

Andrew, however, was not oblivious.  Nor were Mark, and
Tyler, however sated the two boys might have been.  “Thanks
Dara,” Mark muttered, always polite.  Tyler echoed his
friend weakly.

“Yeah, Thanks, boss.” Andrew said, grinning madly at my
debased state.  From the cum stuck in my hair and dribbling
off my chin to the cum-soaked panties and my spread-eagled
posture, Andrew saw a wanton slut, a debased whore, not the
degreed supervisor he had always appropriately deferred to.

I wiped my chin with the back of my hand, but no offer of a
towel or cloth was forthcoming.  My dress was being trampled
by my fiancé and his lover, so I took a handful of my hair
and wiped my hand dry.  I let Andrew complete his scrutiny,
acting unashamed and defiant, though I was horribly
mortified at what I had just done, and terrified at what was
yet to come.

“You still want to see this?” asked Andrew.

“I don’t know,” I said with a nonchalance I didn’t feel.  I
desperately needed to see him, to prove he was inadequate
next to my husband.  “I’m feeling pretty sated right now.”
Where I got that sultry tone, I’ll never know, but it was a
lie, lie, lie.

He grinned, sheepish and surprisingly uncomfortable, “I’ll
show it to you if you can get me hard.”  Andrew had lost
some of his confidence, and I was pretty sure it was because
he had a small dick, like Mark…

…and my husband.

“All right.”  I said, “Come here.”

But Andrew shook his head, “I thought you wanted off this
porch.”

I grinned, and stood up, nearly falling over as the blood
rushed to my head.  The cold night air embraced me, and I
realized that I was still flush with an internal heat, but
the semen all over my body had chilled.

Andrew was grinning as I staggered down the steps, still in
my heels and unsteady, “A little cold, eh?” He said, and I
forced myself not to look at my nipples, normally round and
puffy, but then, I was sure, rock hard little bullets,
glistening in the hazy porch light.

The damp grass of the back yard crunched under my feet, I
felt little droplets of water splash up on my ankles as I
streaked, nearly naked, into the open.  How many neighboring
houses could glance out a back window and see a girl in a g-
string strolling across the lawn I don’t know.  I pushed
down those fears and thought about Andrew, and how to get
his cock in my hand.  I also thought about how nice it had
felt to have Mark’s cock rubbing against my sex.

Andrew brought me to a lawn table and stopped, flopping in a
plastic chair.  I glanced back.  Mark and Tyler had followed
at a distance, and though my fiancé was perilously close to
getting third base on Wendy, they had managed to follow us
down onto the grass to watch the show.  Behind them, on the
porch, I saw two guys and a girl, gathered in a row to watch
the show: Their boss acting like a drunk slut in the back
yard.

“Why don’t you take those panties off, Dara?” Andrew
suggested.  Instead of saying no.  Instead, even, of just
pushing them down to my ankles and stepping out of them, I
walked past Andrew so all three boys could watch and bent at
the waist.  Lingering as I took one foot out of them and
then spreading my legs, I exposed my trimmed pussy for the
three boys to admire, then I stood up and strode back to
Andrew, kicking my panties aside.  My pussy level with his
face, just a few inches away.  I held my legs slightly
apart, and touched myself with one, deft finger, on my
button.

“Is this what you wanted to see, Andrew?”

Andrew grinned up at me, but he seemed more nervous than
ever.

I took the boy’s hand, and brought it up to my breast,
careful to help him avoid the cum splatters in the middle,
and he took me.  “How about we take a peek, Andrew?”  I
said, stooping down and reaching for his manhood.  I was
fully conscious of the way he and all the men on the lawn
gawked at my sluttish desire for yet another dick, but all I
had ever wanted was to expose Andrew.  Now that I had my
chance I wasn’t about to let it up by showing how humiliated
and small I really felt.

But as my hand felt Andrew’s crotch I drew a blank.
Nothing.  No stiffness, no forceful member dying to leap
out.  Nothing.  I tried to keep my composure, “What’s the
matter, Andrew, a little nervous?”

Kyle and Mark’s weak, forced laughter was little reward for
realizing that all my antics had yet to arouse Andrew.
Andrew shrugged, perhaps not catching the nervous anxiety in
my voice.  “It’s just all these people watching, it’s like…”
Andrew trailed off.

All my efforts, my modesty abandoned, and dignity I might
have once been able to muster: destroyed.  All because
Andrew was even worse than I gave him credit for.  A sad
excuse for a man who couldn’t even get hard for a willing
woman.

“That’s pathetic Andrew.” I tormented the man.  I took his
hands and clutched them to my breasts, “I gave you these and
you didn’t do anything.” I snarled.  I turned around, and
put his hand on my ass, pushing it between my legs so he
could see I was wet, “I showed you this and you did
nothing!”   I turned around again and pulled his hand up
into my crotch.  His knuckles against my warm, wet sex was
beyond titillating-my whole body shuddered and a found
myself groaning with passion and frenzy-God I wished my
husband would ignore that little fucking tart and come fuck
his wife like he was supposed to!

But instead I grinded Andrew’s hand into my pussy, pushing
two of his fingers and two of mine up inside me and said, “I
gave you my pussy and you weren’t hard enough to take it.”
I let go of myself and gasping from the thrill and rush of
having something inside me at last I reached my hand back
into his crotch and though he tried to shift away I clutched
his mushy member and snarled, “You couldn’t take me because
you’re not a man, Andrew.”  I started laughing even as I
gave myself over to his fingers.  Even Wendy laughed, as she
enjoyed my husband’s third hard-on.

But Andrew was starting to get pissed, “If I was going to
fuck you I’d be hard.” He growled, snatching his hand away
and wiping it off on his pants, “Stupid games may get sluts
like you wet,” he said pushing my hands away from him and
standing up to me, “but all you’ve got to offer me is a
fucking tug and a blow,”

With that he stalked away, dragging his wounded pride behind
him.

“Andrew!” I barked, but the mail room clerk ignored me.

I strode after him, catching up halfway between the porch
and the trio of men at the party who had enjoyed my ass.  I
was now half-chilled to death.  Naked in the cold night, my
tits jiggling, cum on my face, in my hair, on my pussy and
my tits, surrounded by fully dressed employees of my company
(not to mention my fiancé), I played the fiery hell-bitch
they all knew when someone fucked up royally at work.

God only knows why I didn’t let the dick walk away, but I
shouted, “Don’t even think I’m going to let you walk away
without giving it up, little man!  Put up, now!”

Andrew muttered, “I’m not going to get hard just because you
order me to Dara.”  The man was the epitome of defeat, but I
wasn’t satisfied yet.

I took his hand and strode him back to the table.

“You want my ass, Andrew?”  I said, and I hiked my ass up on
the table and spread my legs.

Trying to ignore my husband as he wormed his way into
Wendy’s tight little adolescent pussy a few yards away I
said, “You want this pussy, Andrew.” I said, “It’s yours.”

I leaned back and pulled my feet up to the edge of the table
with me, lifting my ass up, and giving Andrew and everyone
in the backyard full few of my swollen, glistening sex.  I
ran my fingers over my vulva and spread my lips, “Come and
take it Andrew.

“This body belongs to you.”  I said and lay back, fingering
myself.

Andrew was much closer than before when he finally spoke.
He stood between my legs, watching me intently as I pushed
myself close to a freezing orgasm on that cold, plastic
tabletop.  “You mean it?” He said weakly.  I could feel his
jeans pressing against the knuckles between my legs.

“Fuck me Andrew.” I said, convinced of his impotence, and
the shame he would have to live with, if nothing else, for
failing to take such a willing slut.

“Move your hand.” He said, and I withdrew two glistening
fingers from my sex so he could see my warm, inviting pussy.

“Take me Andrew,” I begged him, “I want you to shoot your
sperm into me.”  I almost came from the thrill of
humiliating a man so utterly.

Suddenly I felt him pushing against me.  A firm pressure
against my vulva, then a slipping misfire, then-!

Home.

Andrew’s cock slid into me like a warm knife melts butter.
As opposed to all my intentions I arched my back and spread
my legs even wider before locking them around him and
sucking up his girth whole and bucking my cunt against his
blazing hot, pulsing cock.  I ground my pelvis into his as
electric hellfire burst in my loins and sent searing heat
through the course of my naked, vulnerable, and exposed
body.

My mail clerk fucked me with a frantic intensity, crying my
name and clutching me passionately, giving me long,
searching kisses.  I opened my mouth wide and sucked his
tongue as I sucked his cock into me, surrendering myself to
him as he violated me from both ends.

My orgasm only faded as he exploded in violent, ape-like
grunts, panting and drooling on me as he spent his seed in
the one place I had kept safe that night.  I felt renewed
heat as his blazing semen spilled into my womb, and I found
myself bucking harder as another orgasm washed over me as my
body dimly realized that I was not only unprotected, but
fertile, ovulating, and trying very hard to get pregnant.

I let my head fall to the side, between my lover’s kisses,
and saw my Kyle pumping his hips into the little girl who
had violated my husband three times. I recognized the thrust
as he gasped for breath but was unable to come, having done
so twice already.  Wendy waited patiently, her legs in the
air like mine, but she appeared to be counting stars and
wincing every time 150 lbs of my husband-to-be pounded into
her nubile little frame.

I sat up as Kyle pulled away.  He had on a leering grin, and
it was all I could do to embrace the fading glow of my
orgasm.  But I needed something to help me ignore the fact
that I’d been taken in by his soft dick.  By his dares and
silly conditions, by his bullying, and his pretend disdain
for the ministrations I’d given his friends.  He’d played me
like a deck of cards and laid me like a trailer trash
teenager trying to get a ride out of Hicksville.  I’d laid
on my back and begged him to do it too.

“Slut.” He murmured at me.  Almost in sync as he said it a
dollop of his semen oozed out of my pussy the size of my
little finger. I shuddered, thinking about how much he must
have spent in my body if that much was oozing out.  As if to
confirm my fear a steady stream drizzled out of me to join
the growing pool on the table.

A fear overcame me, and I laid back and pulled my knees up,
arching my pelvis up as the doctor had ordered me.  A way to
hold the sperm in my body, as the fertility rituals
specified.  I seemed to feel the hormones racing through me
that I had taken before coming to the party.  They were
designed to make me ovulate longer, dilate my cervix, and
facilitate the movement of sperm through my body.

Andrew laughed, though he clearly had no idea what I was
doing, nor did I know why I was doing it.  For a moment, all
I could hear was my husband’s grunting as he fucked a girl
half his age.

Then I felt hands on my legs.  I looked up and saw Carl
Ewing, the head of technical development for the company.
Technically my superior, though we always behaved as equals.

He jerked a thumb at Andrew who slowly slunk away, “Hey this
isn’t just for his benefit, is it?”  Carl grinned, smiling
at me, barely able to look me in the eye instead of at my
cum-drenched body.

“No baby,” I said as if a force of nature had taken over my
body, “He just knows how to take what’s given to him.”  I
said, spreading my legs.

Carl knew how to use a condom, and I think Tyler did too.
But not Mark, or David, or Chris in marketing.  I’m not sure
about the two boys from sales, or Sandy McMillian’s intern
Bobby, but they all came inside me nonetheless, even if I
didn’t have any more orgasms that night.  Suffice to say,
however, that I didn’t run out of steam till the next
morning.

The day after that I called in sick to work because I
couldn’t stop throwing up.

 -------------------------------------------------

These days I’m on partial duty.  After the second trimester
I might take a full leave of absence, but now that I’m not a
supervisor anymore I have a lighter load.  Working reception
for the division of the company I used to manage isn’t as
glamorous, nor does it pay as well, but it is a real relief
from having to chew people out for being late, or to
reprimand people for bad work or inappropriate behavior.

I’m a little uncomfortable when I have to run an errand, or
deliver a message, and I have to look across the desks of
people who used to work for me, many of whom got a piece of
me that night, though with a lot of them I’m not sure
whether they had me or not.  Some of the guys picked me up a
week or two later, when they found out what they’d missed,
and it was doing that that got me busted from my management
position.

Kyle got fired from his video store for stealing new porn
releases-mostly gay bondage kind of stuff- and I dumped him.
My engagement ring now says ‘Andrew – forever’ –It was
pretty cheap to have Kyle’s name removed.  But that’s
contingent on the DNA tests, which we have to wait until
after the birth to conduct.  If it’s not his, well, I’ve got
some money saved up.

Meanwhile Andrew’s my main beau for now and, believe it or
not, I was right. His dick is even smaller than Kyle’s.  His
erectile problem hasn’t gone away either, so I’m back to the
old vibrator, but only when Andrew’s not around.  He still
thinks he should be enough for me.

I guess he’ll have to do since most guys don’t have time for
a pregnant girl pushing thirty.