The Baby Maker's Club

by Penny Wylder

  He smiles wickedly. “I guess that makes me a lucky man that you chose this option.”

  He—I wish I knew what to call him—leans in again to kiss me. He takes both of my breasts in his hands and kneads them, pinching my nipples between his fingers and sending bolts of lightning through my center. When he’s done thoroughly fondling my breasts, it’s his mouth’s turn to explore. He sucks at my nipple, gently using his teeth until I moan. Then his hand moves between my legs and rubs over my pants.

  It feels amazing. I haven’t been touched like this in so long, and I don’t know if it’s ever felt this good before. He seems to know exactly the spots that will drive me crazy, and he hasn’t even gotten beyond my panties yet. I know once all our clothes come off, my time with this gorgeous stranger is going to be epic.

  He lays me down and unbuttons my jeans. Shrugging them off of me, he tosses those aside with my shirt and bra. When he reaches for my panties, I hold my breath. He looks at me while he does this, an intense look of lust and desperation in his expression. When I’m completely naked, he takes me in with his eyes, caressing every inch of my skin with his fingertips except for the parts that ache to be touched the most.

  I thought that it would all happen faster than this. A quick, get the job done kind of swiftness to it all, but he’s taking his time. He’s savoring the moment. I’m grateful for that, because each time he touches me I become more and more turned on, and I know there won’t be any regrets after. I wasn’t sure how this was going to go, or how I would feel making a baby with a stranger. So far it feels incredible.

  I watch, mesmerized, as his head lowers between my legs, as his lips lay delicate kisses on the smooth skin of my pussy. Again, I’m relieved I’ve kept up with my regular waxing schedule.

  He doesn’t have to do any of this. My pleasure is not part of the deal. Going down on me will not get me any closer to getting pregnant, but I’m thrilled he’s doing it.

  His tongue snakes out and he licks everything but that sensitive spot. I spread my legs wide, urging him to satisfy that need, but he just smiles and licks around it.

  I glare at him playfully. “Tease.”

  “You’ll thank me later,” he says in an equally playful tone.

  Then he slips a finger into me, ever so slowly. I’m dripping wet and I gasp. As he moves his finger inside of me, touching all the right spots, I close my eyes and moan. He’s an expert with his hands. My lower back and hips come off the bed and I buck involuntarily. I feel the slight vibration of a chuckle in his throat. He’s enjoying this as much as I am. He adds another finger and my moans turn to elated cries. I beg him not to stop. Then he sucks my clit into his mouth and I come undone.

  I can tell how wet I am by the ease in which his fingers slide in and out of me. The flat part of his tongue moves in slow circles around my clit as he finger-fucks me. He reaches up my body and grabs my breast, playing with my nipple. I squeeze my eyes shut and ride this perfect wave of pleasure.

  The feeling intensifies, and I grab onto his head, forcing him to stay right where he is. My hips grind, pushing my dripping pussy against his face. My frenzy seems to fuel him. He adds a third finger. My screams and moans fill the room and can probably be heard by everyone else down the halls. My body is electrified, ready to combust at any moment. I want to tell him to slow down, to wait. I want to prolong this for as long as I can. But my mouth won’t form the words. My orgasm is a freight train and there’s nothing I can do to stop it from barreling forward.

  All at once my muscles clinch, and I bear down on his fingers.

  “Come for me, baby,” he says.

  My back arches off the bed. His fingers slip and slide as the wetness pours out of me. My body turns to jelly as I come down from this high. He kisses my clit and I jerk a little. It’s sensitive to the touch.

  My orgasm does nothing to alleviate my hunger to have him inside of me. I impatiently help him out of his shirt, and pause when I see the ripple of muscles on his stomach. He has an incredible body. Muscular, but not over the top.

  He stands up. I sit on the edge of the bed in front of him and unbutton his pants. They slide down his hips and puddle on the floor at his feet. The bulge in his boxer-briefs is enough to shock me and make me do a double take. My mouth starts to water.

  I lean forward and kiss his stomach, reach my hands around and squeeze his firm, muscular ass. His fingers slide through my hair and grip a handful. He moves my head down toward his boxer-covered cock. I kiss it through the fabric. His cock jerks from the attention.

  I hurry to get his underwear off of him. He chuckles at my eagerness.

  I’m sure his underwear fit him fine when he put them on this morning, but now his erection fills them up and makes them far too tight. They look like they’re uncomfortable, like they’re digging into his skin. I’m more than happy to help him out with that.

  Grabbing onto the waistband, I struggle to get them off of him. When I finally do, I feel triumphant. His beautiful cock stands at attention in front of me, the large head glistening with precum. I take a moment to appreciate its size and length. The man is hung. So much so that it’s a bit intimidating. Will he even fit? I have my doubts, but that won’t stop me from trying.

  I take it in both my hands. Even with both hands wrapped around the shaft, there is plenty still exposed. He moans as I gently double fist him with slow, even strokes. When I open my mouth and circle my tongue slowly around the head, he tilts his head back and makes a sound almost like a growl.

  I start bobbing up and down on his cock, taking a bit more each time, then pausing to swirl my tongue around the head and taste the precum pooling there. The muscles in his stomach clench, and he hisses through his teeth. I don’t know this man, not even his name, but I’ve never wanted to please a man more than I do right now.

  “Fuck, your mouth feels good on my cock,” he says.

  I look up at him to watch his face, and he’s looking back at me. His eyes are glazed over with lust. He’s more animal than man right now. I can tell he wants to rip my hands away and shove that giant cock down my throat. It’s taking all of his restraint not to do that. I want that, though. I want to gag on him, to choke on it.

  I pull off of him and lick his salty wetness from my lips. “Fuck my face.”

  His eyebrows raise. “Are you sure? The length of my dick is longer than your throat.”

  “I want it,” I say, practically begging.

  He doesn’t hesitate again. I open my mouth and he pushes his perfect cock past my lips. He’s right. He’s too big. He’s only halfway down my throat when I start to gag.

  He pulls out quickly, and I gasp for air. He gives me a few seconds to catch my breath before pushing back into my mouth. We do this several times before my gag reflex settles. I’m able to take more and more of him each time. I breathe through my nose while he fucks my mouth. Even after getting used to his length, I’m only able to take a little more than half of him at a time.

  He pulls out of my mouth suddenly, and the look on his face is pained. “What’s wrong?” I say.

  “I don’t want to come just yet.”

  He leans over and kisses me. His mouth smells like my pussy. Two of his fingers slide back into me.

  “God, you’re so wet,” he says.

  “I want you,” I breathe. “Please fuck me.”

  His smile spreads across his face. “Trust me, I will.”

  I can tell he wants to wait so he doesn’t come too fast, but he’s struggling as much as I am.

  He lays on top of me, rubs himself against me and lets out a frustrated groan. He then grabs his dick and guides it into me in one strong, fluid motion. I gasp as I’m filled to capacity. I wasn’t ready for his huge cock, how deep he plunges inside of me. It’s almost uncomfortable at first, but as he glides in and out of my silky folds, I become accustomed to him and pleasure explodes through me.

  He ploughs into me, hard and fast. I’m being stretched as far as my body will allow, and I
ride on the cusp of pleasure and pain.

  “Get on your hands and knees,” he tells me urgently. Before I can even react, he’s pulled out and flipped me over as if I weigh nothing.

  Then he’s holding my hips and plunging into me from behind. My scream echoes through the room, and my second orgasm rips through me without warning. I don’t even have time to think or recover before he grabs a fistful of my hair and starts roughly fucking me doggy-style.

  He slaps my ass. The quick burst of pain startles me at first and threatens yet another orgasm.

  I’ve never had a man take charge this way before. I’ve had guys slap my ass then ask if that was okay, taking all the fun out of it. But this stranger takes what he wants and seems to know how far he can take me to the edge without going over.

  He pulls out, leaving me hollow. He pushes my head to the mattress, my ass in the air and gives me a thorough spanking. Every time his hand lands on my ass, my pussy clenches and my juices slide down my leg.

  He spreads my folds open with the tips of my finger. “Goddamn, that’s a perfect pussy. So pink and wet,” he says. He bends over and licks me from behind, his tongue trailing from my clit all the way to my asshole. He spreads my cheeks too and licks that entrance as well. I’m too turned on to be nervous or embarrassed about the sudden attention to that forbidden place. I’ve abandoned every inhibition and thought for this stranger.

  “I’m going to fuck my seed deep into you,” he says and slams his cock back into me.

  In this position, I can look down my body, and I see my breasts hanging, jostling with each of his thrusts, his balls slapping against me, and the mixture of our juices dripping down and leaving a wet spot on the sheets under us.

  I watch as his hand comes down and he catches the strings of our wetness in his palm. I’m not sure why at first until I feel his slick finger at my asshole. He’s using it as lube. I take a deep breath as he slides his finger into my ass. It might’ve been uncomfortable had I not been so turned on, but right now, I welcome the new sensation.

  There’s nothing clinical about the way he’s fucking me. Sure, we’re here to make a baby, so getting fucked isn’t a surprise, but I expected we’d have a quickie, probably missionary position, and be done with it. Ass play and going down on me were all for fun. I’m definitely getting my money’s worth.

  When a second finger enters my ass, I can’t hold on anymore. His cock is stretching me to my limit, and his fingers in my ass make me feel so completely full. I’m not a saint, I’ve had my fair share of lovers, so how is it possible I’ve never been this thoroughly possessed before? I’m realizing I’ve never been properly fucked until today. My third orgasm starts somewhere deep inside my core, radiating through my limbs until my entire body is quaking. I’m unable to speak, to breathe, to make a sound as it tears through me. I’m no longer in control of anything, not my thoughts, or my body. I’m giving myself over completely to this nameless man. Right now, he owns me.

  Just as I think I’m about to come down from it, there’s an aftershock and I’m moaning and crying out, and rotating my hips, as his body slams into mine one last time.

  His fingers slide out of my asshole and with both hands he holds my hips tight against him so I can’t move. I can feel my insides being coated in his warm cum, feel his huge cock jerk inside as he releases his load into me. When he pulls out, I immediately put my head on the mattress and leave my ass in the air so nothing leaks out.

  When I feel sure that nothing has been left at the surface to spill out, I lie down, and he lies next to me. We face each other and he wraps his arm around my waist. We lie together, out of breath, in silent euphoria as we come down from our high. It’s the best sex I’ve had in a long time, and now that it’s over, I already miss it.

  The silence stretches on, the only sound in the room is our jagged breath, starting to return to normal. I look at his face. Moments ago we were so close, I couldn’t tell where his body ended and mine began. But now as I stare into his eyes I think, Who are you? What now? It hits me that this isn’t a regular date. This is it. No one last drink or the potential that we may spend the night together. It’s over. The deed is done. Yet neither of us moves. Our breathing is synched and we continue to stare at each other.

  His fingers run along the curve of my hip, tracing up my body from my hip and up to my shoulders and back again.

  “You wore me out,” he says.

  “That was nothing. You did all the work. You should see me when I’m in charge.”

  His perfect eyebrows raise and he lets out a low chuckle. “Well now I’m even more intrigued than before. It’s too bad this has to end.” His smile falters and there’s something almost sad about the look in his eyes.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  With a sigh, he stands up and puts his shirt on. It’s a shame to cover that body. Men like that should be permitted to be naked all the time, a gift to the women of this world.

  “Thirsty?” he says, going to the mini fridge. He pulls out a chilled bottle of champagne.

  I sit up and wrap the sheet around me. “Yes, thank you.”

  While he fills two glasses with champagne, I can’t help but wonder if that did the trick. Was that the moment a child was made? I hope it was. If it didn’t take, will there be a second chance with this stranger, or will it be someone new next time? I didn’t ask Mosaic about it. I don’t know why that never occurred to me until this very moment. I’m sure more questions will arise as time goes by. I was so eager to have a child that I didn’t think about all the possibilities. I really hope if there is a next time, it’s with him.

  He hands me the glass of champagne and I down it quickly. When I’m done, he takes it from me and sets it on the bedside table. With a glint in his eyes, he crawls over me, pressing my shoulders back until I’m fully reclined. Are we going for round two? Even though I’m sore as hell from being bludgeoned with his giant cock, I think I still have more in me.

  But then he takes a pillow and tells me to lift my hips. He slides it underneath me so my hips are angled up. When it’s in place, he smiles down at me. “Feet up.” He makes another stack of pillows for my feet. “We need to make sure you get pregnant.”

  He leans down and gives me a kiss, then gets up and goes into the bathroom. The shower comes on.

  I’m still horny. How is that even possible after what we just did? Images from minutes before flash before my eyes. His body, glistened with sweat. His fingers, buried deep within me. The taste of his cock. I start to touch myself as the memories of this stranger flood me. Being with him has given me enough masturbatory material to last a lifetime. Who needs porn when I have him?

  I touch myself, reliving the recent memory. He felt so good inside of me. Sometimes when you’re with a person for the first time, the chemistry is off. Teeth and noses knock together as you navigate those first kisses. You hesitate and feel self-conscious. I’ve always needed time to adjust to new people, even in the best circumstances. But this man, this nameless stranger, I felt like I’ve known him for my entire life. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation or even thought. My body acted on pure instinct and responded to his every move and ministration. There is no denying it. He’s the kind of man I’ve been searching for in the dating apps and at the lousy bars my friends and I gravitate to on Saturday nights. How is it possible that I had to find him this way, when we have no chance at a future together? The sadness of that thought is almost enough to turn me off, but then I think about him taking me from behind, and I’m back again. I keep touching myself, rolling my fingers over my sensitive clit until I come with his sperm still inside of me.

  When I’m done, I’m panting, out of breath and feeling weak and hungry. It’s getting late. I should go. The man who might just be my baby’s daddy is still in the shower. I get dressed. His clothes are still flung across the floor where we left them. I decide to fold them and put them in a neat pile for when he’s ready to get dressed. When I lift his pants off the floor, his wal
let falls out. It opens when it hits the carpet and his driver’s license is right there in front of me. I don’t mean to break one of the rules of the baby-making club, but it’s right there, staring at me, and I can’t help but see his name and birthday. He’s Chaucer Brigg, thirty-two years-old.

  I scramble to put his wallet back in his pants and back where I found them in a pile on the floor. The shower goes off, and I rush over to the bed and pretend to be buttoning my pants as if I’ve just been getting dressed.

  He emerges from the bathroom in a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is wet, torso glistening, every muscle beautifully on display. When he comes over to sit next to me, he smells fresh, the amazing aroma and heat from the shower emanating from his skin.

  “That shower would’ve been so much better with you in it,” he says as he brushes the loose hair off my shoulder.

  My mouth trembles when I smile. I feel so guilty knowing his name when he has no idea who I am. If I tell him what happened I could get kicked out—even if it was an accident. This is my chance to have a child. I don’t want to blow it. Even though I’m riddled with guilt, I can’t risk saying anything.

  “But I guess there’s always next time,” he says.

  My eyes open wide. So I might get the chance to be with him again after all. “There’s a next time?” I say.

  He nods. “I’m told we’ll have several appointments together throughout the next two weeks.”

  Now that the stakes are high, I can’t possibly fess up. I won’t risk my chance of seeing him again. No way.

  “Good. I’m glad,” I say.

  He looks relieved, as if he weren’t sure I’d be interested in a repeat performance. “Me too.”

  There’s a moment of awkward silence. I know if I don’t leave right now, I’m going to say something. My guilt will take over and I’ll end up telling him my name and admitting what I’ve seen. Although we’ve just met, and we owe each other nothing, keeping a secret from him feels wrong.

  I stand up quickly. “I should go.”