Delivering His Package: A Secret Baby Romance

by Jamie Knight

  “That’s how fucking bareback usually works, isn’t it?” I grinned back, figuring she must have been on birth control.

  “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never done it before.”

  “Never barebacked?” I asked. I’d certainly had my own share of unadvised barebacking as a teen and a college student. Fortunately, my partners had been other dumb virginal kids my own age, and I hadn’t caught anything. I wouldn’t take that kind of risk now unless I was really sure I could trust the girl. And I was really sure I could trust Eleanor.

  Eleanor had been in panties. Now her pussy was bare beneath my dick. Her slippery-wet folds slid against my inner thigh as we moved against each other on the sofa. I slowly fucked the gap between her thighs and lower lips with my dick. She only sighed in response.

  “Take me,” she whispered. She scooped the dripping lines of precum from my cock and rubbed them onto her pussy. “I don’t have any lube. Do you?”

  “Only the all-natural kind.” I pointed down.

  “I still want to do it.” Eleanor looked at me. The sparkle in her eyes was like that of a kid about to go on a roller coaster.

  I took charge. I hugged her and started pulling her to stand up, then lean over. “Bend over the sofa.” Eleanor’s ass was round, slightly thick. She stood with her arms far apart on the sofa and her legs far apart on the floor. It was a very warm invitation for me to fuck her.

  Cool air washed over my bare, moist dickhead. I hadn’t barebacked in a long time. There was a novelty to looking at a nice pink pussy and knowing that I’d be going into it raw, feeling all of it directly on my dick instead of through latex.

  “Now,” Eleanor whispered and teased her lower lips apart more with her hand under her legs. The beautiful pink slit between her legs was my target. Above it was Eleanor’s perfect, smooth, lightly muscled back. Beyond Eleanor’s back and Eleanor’s mess of wavy blonde hair was the narrow window looking out onto downtown New York.

  I gently put my dickhead up against her pussy opening. There was still no way it could go in without help. I spit on my right hand’s fingers, then slid two fingers in. Eleanor gasped, then sighed in pleasure. Her canal was tight but slightly loosening for my fingers. She must’ve known that the fingers were only a warmup. I separated my fingers deep inside her pussy, and she gasped and sighed again. The opening was big enough now, and I stepped forward, so my dickhead was ready to enter.

  “Now?” I asked into her ear.

  “Now,” she said, a bit impatiently.

  I thrust my whole body forward. My dick went into Eleanor’s pussy. I pulled out after about halfway in. I knew I was thick and didn’t want to risk hurting this woman.

  “Is that ok? Can I go in again?”

  “Not deep enough. Go in deeper. Deeper.”

  Now Eleanor really sounded impatient. I responded the only way I knew how; I followed instructions. I thrust my dick back into her pussy promptly, immediately, and with a deep, long thrust until I swore I could feel the brush of her cervix on my dickhead.

  She again gasped in pleasure — gasped so hard that she coughed afterward. I kept pushing deeper into her, enjoying her pussy canal gripping my shaft and her cervix tickling my engorged dickhead.

  All of me was ready for action. Eleanor was pushing her pussy back against my dick to get the shaft deeper into her. She must’ve been ready too. I didn’t disappoint her; I started fucking deeply with a slow rhythm.

  I grabbed lecherously at her body with every thrust, massaging her plump tits and rubbing her ass. Her pussy was tight enough to slow down my dick’s journey enough. Eleanor acknowledged my effort with ecstatic moans. She moaned every time I squeezed and pulled on her nipples.

  I got into a good fast fucking rhythm. Feeling my balls crash into Eleanor’s clit with every thrust in and hearing the slight slurping sound of my long cock sliding out of her, aided by both my and Eleanor’s natural lubrication.

  She turned her head to her left. “I—”

  I answered by leaning in and kissing her again, kissing her even more passionately than I’d kissed her that first time.

  My tongue played in her mouth just as my dick was playing in her pussy, just as my hand was playing with her nipples. I sped up fucking and rubbing.

  Her pussy clenched on my pumping dick. I pushed through the tightness anyway, in and out. I didn’t break my thrusting rhythm. I didn’t interrupt her pleasure, and I didn’t deny my own hot desire. Her legs shook. Then Eleanor’s pussy pulsed, making it incredibly tight.

  I knew not to slow down fucking her and massaging her breasts. She showed her gratitude. Her pussy throbbed and covered my dick in wetness. She came over and over.

  My own thighs throbbed. My dick and balls were just at the tripwire, at the point of no return. I was on the verge of cumming, of shooting my saved-up load all into Eleanor’s pussy. I grabbed her from behind, gripping her tightly with all the strength of my arms. Then I mashed my dick even deeper into her pussy, as I felt my cock start to throb up against her walls.

  Every burst of cum splashed out into the depths of Eleanor’s pussy and womb. She gasped and whimpered with every burst of cum I pumped into her. I leaned in and kissed her ear, then sucked on the earlobe. She reached behind and fondled my balls as if to milk more cum out of them. I managed to shoot two more gobs into her. She sighed with each one.

  I ran my hands over Eleanor’s curvy torso, with small squeezes at her waist and hips. My cock was still deep inside her. I held her from behind and nudged her to stand up. As Eleanor stood up, I kissed the crook between her shoulder blades, just below her neck, and I pulled my dick out of her pussy.

  We stood face to face again. Eleanor pushed her face into my face for a slow, loving kiss. Her tongue fluttered at my lips, then inside my mouth. Her breath was hotter, with a slightly flowery smell. It was as if she’d just been put into a different physical state by me fucking her hard and filling her with my seed.

  Still breathing quickly, she sat back down on the sofa, where she’d left her book of Lord Byron. She wiped the sex fluids off her hands onto her stomach and picked up the book again.

  “You wanna sit down with me again?” Eleanor smiled when she asked. Of course, I wanted to sit down with her again.

  The library’s pilled fabric sofa wasn’t designed for naked use. Maybe it was the first time it had been used by nude patrons. I didn’t care. Eleanor probably didn’t either. Eleanor and I had both just orgasmed and were recovering in post-orgasmic ecstasy.

  I hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Orgasms from jerking off were nothing like orgasms from real sex. I hadn’t had any of the latter in at least a year. Now, after cumming inside Eleanor, I was relaxed, sated, winded, and washed over by love. I wouldn’t admit that last part. But how could I not feel love toward this kind, curious, quirky, gorgeous, and sexually expert woman?

  I moved in to kiss Eleanor again, this time softly, to embrace her lips in my own, to show her how much I enjoyed spending time with her. She was already looking down at the Lord Byron book in her hands. We were both still naked.

  I reached out to Eleanor’s arm. My hand cradled her chin, and I leaned in for the soft, tender, loving kiss. It was a kiss that said “I love you” without freaking out anyone by actually saying it.

  Eyes half-closed from sexual exhaustion and exhilaration, she kissed me back, just as tenderly, lips on lips, tongue on tongue. She lay her head in the crook of my neck. Her hair smelled like Pantene.

  Eleanor’s hand was soft. I held it in my right hand while looking into her gorgeous green eyes. She ran her palm over my torso, from my defined abs and pecs to my sensitive neck. She stuck her finger into my mouth, and I sucked on it and licked the tip. She giggled.

  “Do you have any idea—” I was worried about the time. I still had to drive the package truck the following morning.

  “Exactly midnight.” Eleanor grinned.

  “How can you know?”

 
“There’s a clock on the wall behind us.” She smiled and pointed behind her head blankly, then again put her head in the crook of my neck. “I see it in the window reflection.”

  “I have to get—” I started to say, wondering how the following day I could go back to driving a UPS truck after an evening like this one.

  “Yeah, I gotta get going too,” she said. Maybe she just didn’t want to seem rude. “Let’s do this again next week,” she whispered and leaned into my lips for one last soft kiss.

  Chapter Five - Eleanor

  The beeping notification on my phone that woke me up at seven A.M. shouldn’t have been a surprise. Yet, I felt like I hadn’t slept at all and had just come down with the flu. My stomach was doing cartwheels for no reason. The night before had been dull, as had every Friday night for the last month or so.

  It was not what I had expected. After meeting, and fucking Aiden, I figured my Friday nights would be full of him and full of love. However, that was not the case. The week after our first night together, he had to rush out of town for a family emergency. Then it was making up work, problems with friends, and on and on till I got the distinct impression I was being ghosted. He would still text me every once in a while, but the heat was already gone.

  I ran into the bathroom as my body tried to get rid of everything I had ever thought of eating. I was weak, lightheaded, and suddenly everything smelled terrible. I knew what the symptoms indicated, but it just couldn’t be right. I couldn’t get pregnant. Could I?

  It was the moment I had always wished for. I’d spent ten thousand dollars out-of-pocket to have donors and in vitro. Before that night in the library with Aiden, I had sometimes looked at the baby name sites on my phone wistfully, hopefully, even though I knew perfectly well that I couldn’t get pregnant.

  Now here I was. My body was acting like it was pregnant.

  Anxious, I went to the doctor’s office immediately. Dr. Williamson was a fully qualified obstetrician who had been with me through every trial I tried.

  The doctor pulled up the test results on his screen. “Good news. You’re definitely pregnant. The embryo is too small to see with an ultrasound right now, but you’re on your way.”

  I bit my lower lip and held back a tear. Of course, I’d always wanted to be a mother. I’d also always assumed that I’d become pregnant together with a husband. And Aiden was great. But I’d only known Aiden for a few weeks. And he had no idea about the pregnancy. We had only spent one night together.

  Dr. Williamson went through a file of papers on his desk, then flipped through several forms of questions on his computer screen. “If you don’t mind, and of course this is totally optional, do you have the genetic history of the father?”

  “Not right at this moment.” My voice cracked a little bit.

  “Again, I’m sorry if I’m intruding, and you can always decline to answer. But do you know the father’s identity?”

  I worked hard not to be offended by the question. Sure, a woman could have been impregnated by a hookup with a stranger. I had been impregnated by a hookup with — the UPS man. The UPS man whom I’d known for a little over a month. That didn’t feel great.

  “Yeah, of course, I know the father’s identity.” I could be proud of something.

  “Ok, his name please?” Dr. Williamson looked at me. He seemed ready to type the few letters by which I knew the man who’d impregnated me.

  “Aiden. His name is Aiden.” I aced that question. I felt pretty good about myself. But I vaguely anticipated another question coming up, one I wouldn’t quite ace. At least I wouldn’t yet be able to ace.

  “Alright. And his last name?” Dr. Williamson asked the question so routinely.

  Aiden had mentioned his last name that first time he introduced himself as the UPS driver, but I hadn’t remembered it since then.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know — I’m sorry—” My voice definitely cracked. I felt as if I was being called a slut who let men with unknown last names impregnate me.

  “It’s alright. I understand.” Dr. Williamson crossed out something on one of his forms. “So, Aiden won’t be involved as a parent?”

  “I really don’t know,” I said, trying my hardest to remain polite.

  I knew that the question was innocent. But how could I have known whether Aiden would be involved in raising the child? Aiden was a sweet enough guy, but he was only the UPS man I had met a few weeks before. Aiden didn’t even know that I was going to be a mother.

  “I presume Aiden doesn’t know that you’re pregnant?”

  “I only found out just now myself.” I gritted my teeth and shook my head.

  “Ah, yeah, ok.” Dr. Williamson looked at the appointment details on his screen.

  “Can we talk about something other than Aiden, please?”

  “So, the father is not going to be involved—”

  “Please, can we talk about something else, please? I don’t know yet whether he’s going to be involved, ok? I’m going to call him and ask. You don’t have to ask me a million questions about it, because I don’t know yet. I haven’t told Aiden yet. Is that ok?” I heard my own voice growing louder at the end of that statement. I hadn’t entirely meant to do that. But those were precisely the questions I didn’t want to think about until I’d at least discussed the pregnancy with Aiden.

  “Yes. I’m sorry.” Dr. Williamson’s mouth tightened. “We just like to get these things — anyway, I’m sorry. You already have the schedule of your follow-up appointments here for your pregnancy. The next appointment is at noon this coming Friday. Is there anything else I can do for you, Eleanor?”

  “Nothing else. Thanks.”

  The doctor couldn’t call Aiden for me. That was the foremost thing that had to be done. Dr. Williamson also couldn’t ask Aiden to be a father for me. It was all my task.

  I walked out of the doctor’s office into downtown New York’s chilly morning air. I could’ve turned left and gone to the library, but I was in no mood for it. I still wanted to talk to Aiden. I turned right for Starbucks. There was one down the street, slightly downhill. It would be a good place for me to make an important phone call. Or at least it would have to be a good place for me to make an important phone call. I hoped so, anyway.

  Grande mint tea. That would warm me from the chill outside and the chill of trepidation I felt inside me. At least it would warm and comfort my throat before I’d have to talk with Aiden. I sank into the soft fabric chair, took out my phone, and breathed deeply. Aiden’s number was already saved in my phone. Only as Aiden, no last name. It took one click to dial.

  Aiden answered through wind noise and traffic sounds. “Yeah, hello. I’m driving for work right now.”

  “Aiden, have you ever thought about having children?”

  “Can we have this conversation another time? I’m driving now.” UPS truck engine growl. Honking horns.

  “But… do you want to be a father?”

  “Haha. Comedian. No really, can we talk later, Eleanor?” A close-up honking horn. Aiden sighing.

  “Aiden, really. I need to know —”

  “Eleanor, are you high or something?” Aiden was almost yelling. “What the hell? I don’t put my dick in crazy. Can you call me back later when I’m not driving, and you’re not tripping?” I could picture Aiden shaking his head while driving his UPS truck.

  I hung up. That was that. No reason to start my pregnancy with an argument with the person who I presumed was now my ex-lover. That one night together had qualified to make Aiden my ex-lover, didn’t it? If not, I didn’t even have an ex-lover to blame the pregnancy on. It would just have to be “some guy,” some guy who’d fucked me hard over the sofa on the library’s third floor and sent me on my way to single motherhood.

  I didn’t want to deal with it. I didn’t want to deal with anything. My destination that morning was my bed. Once I lay on my back, under the sheets and soft down comforter, I didn’t want to go anyw
here else.

  I had no place to go anyway. Work wasn’t until Monday. None of my friends or relatives — not even nosy Claire at the library — knew that I had slept with Aiden. Their reaction if I’d told them about being pregnant would probably have been the same as Aiden’s. I’d tell them. Sometime. Just not right at that moment, when all I wanted to do was sleep — for the rest of the day, at least, and the rest of the weekend, probably.

  Every minor rumble in my tummy made me think of a kicking baby. Of course, my baby was only a few weeks old, an embryo, not even a fetus. It would be months before the baby could kick. But my mind was focused on it. And the sadness and loneliness I felt. I knew those feelings were triggered by the conversation with Aiden and the pregnancy hormones.

  Under the blankets, looking up at a blank ceiling, and then over to the second bedroom that would be the baby’s, I talked to myself because I had no one else to talk to. “I’m pregnant,” I said up into the comforter. The comforter lived up to its name just a little bit. It felt good to be hiding from the world in bed, especially when the world wasn’t providing much support for my pregnancy.

  “I’m pregnant,” I said again, with nobody around to hear it. It felt good and bad and scary, but mostly just lonely. And my emotions were on edge. Every shutting door in the apartment building felt like a hammer to my head, and every recollection of the tone of Aiden’s voice during our phone call felt like a monumental abandonment.

  My phone rang. I hadn’t yet gotten around to changing the ring sound to a baby cooing. Or, more realistically, a baby crying.

  According to caller ID, the call was from Aiden. No thanks. After that previous conversation, I had no interest in talking with him. Even thinking of talking to Aiden made my stomach tighten and my teeth clench. From now on, it was just his baby and me. Let Aiden be the anonymous semen donor. Let Aiden keep driving his truck. Let Aiden think my pregnancy was delusional. I would still have a beautiful baby in my arms after nine months of low-grade misery.