When career woman Vera and her impotent husband Bert can't conceive, she starts looking into alternate insemination methods. In this case, Vera's "alternate insemination method" is a dozen well-hung studs who are bound and determined to knock her up! Warning: This 3,500 word erotic short story contains deep, rough penetration, risky sex, and more semen than a sperm bank!
She comes in through the side door, shedding her coat and her high heels in the kitchen, and she pads upstairs to the bedroom in her ripped thigh-high tights.
The bedside lamp is on. He’s sitting under the covers, reading from a spy novel, when she enters the room. His eyes search her body as she unbuttons her silk blouse and steps out of her gray wool skirt.
Her matching red silk bra and underwear are ruined. One of the straps has been ripped from the cup, and her panties are stained in half a dozen places. She deposits them by the side of the bed and crawls underneath the covers.
“I did it, baby,” she coos.
“You did?” he whispers. He runs one arm around her waist, and strokes her long hair, still sticky with sweat. “How many loads did you take?”
“So many I lost count,” she says breathlessly. She yawns and stretches, raising her arms high above her head, exposing the slight bruises on her breasts. “I’m coming home with a belly full of other men’s squirts.”
He reaches between her legs and grasps her sore cunt. “So you are, you little whore,” he growls, pleased. “They bred you good, didn’t they?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she coos. She takes his hand and moves it to her breasts, still full and heavy from sex. “Pretty soon I’m going to start getting big. My titties are going to swell up with milk. And it’s all for you, baby.”
In the dark, they both smile.
Two weeks earlier
Vera sighed and sipped her latte as she gazed out the window at the construction site across the street from her office.
Having spent much of her adult life trying not to get pregnant, Vera couldn’t believe how difficult conceiving actually was. She and her husband Bert had been trying for almost a year now, and they’d blown through round after round of fertility treatments, until a routine test revealed Bert’s sperm count to be in the single digits.
Bert had always been kind of a beta male, but Vera liked that about him. He wasn’t intimidated by her assertive manner, didn’t feel emasculated by the fact that she made more money than him, and was planning to quit his lower-paying job and become a stay-at-home-dad. At the same time, he wasn’t dependent upon her for laundry or cooking or other basic needs, and she’d always thought of him as rather emotionally buoyant. But this revelation crushed him. When they got home from the doctor’s office, he immediately went into their bedroom and turned off the lights.
Vera had crawled under the covers next to him, spooning him. “Honey,” she said, as she stroked his knuckles in the dark, “it’s okay. I love you. It’s all going to work out. I’ll think of something, baby, I promise.”
Alone in her office, Vera clicked through a succession of web pages and internet forums devoted to in-vitro fertilization and boosting male sperm count. She made a face, and closed the browser window. They’d already spent so much money on unsuccessful treatments, money that could have gone to their baby’s nursery or college fund, and the entire spectacle of daily temperature-taking and mating in captivity, like a pair of zoo animals, had put enough of a strain on their marriage.
Vera stared across the street, where the construction workers, on break, were drinking from bottles of water. Their lean, cut bodies rippled in the sunlight.
This is silly, she thought. How hard is it to get sperm into a vagina, really?
About Alastair Anders
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Published March 10, 2013
Erotica, Literature & Fiction.