13 comments/ 56376 views/ 5 favorites Jennifer's Resurrection By: Dinsmore Here she was once again on her knees with a strange man's cock in her mouth in a submissive posture that didn't remotely represent her personality. At least it was a nice cock---hard and smooth and fat just the way she liked them. The man---whatever his name was---smelled good. When he had kissed her there was no hint of cigarettes, too much beer or a lack of good dental hygiene. His crotch smelled clean. He wasn't trying to fuck her mouth as so many other men had. He was enjoying her obvious expertise and letting her control the action. She appreciated that. They'd certainly fuck, assuming he could get it hard again. She hoped he'd service her moist little quim with his mouth---showing the same level of talent she always brought to oral sex. Then he'd fuck her---hopefully. If he didn't have a condom, she did. If he was particularly randy and sufficiently virile he might try to tap her tight little poop chute. Anal sex was something she enjoyed but only with the right man---was he the right man tonight? She hoped so. She worked in a very male dominated industry. At this trade show there were at least four hundred men and only fifty women. Many of the women in attendance did not draw the attention that she did. She was young and fresh with the curves and bumps that men were attracted to. She had gotten used to having a dozen different males on the prowl sniffing her like dogs in heat. She might have felt honored had she not realized that most of the men would fuck a snake---and she was no snake. Most of the men also had a little wife at home---did this man? She didn't really care. She had been trapped in a booth by a gaggle of vultures who would have given a week's pay to be where this man was right now. She'd fucked one of them before at another trade show. She had no intention of going back for seconds but he just didn't get the message. She had seen this man---the one whose cock was so close to spurting its load in her mouth---at the bar. He had glanced in her direction several times. She had noted his easy carriage and relaxed posture. They had made eye contact; he had smiled. He was a handsome man with an air of confidence and a better suit than the men who had trapped her in the hotel bar booth. As the comments became more openly suggestive and her bladder became more painful she had finally extracted her firm young body from the seat---enduring more improper touches than were the norm even for that group of lechers. She had intentionally altered her route on returning to the bar so as to come close to him. She took the seat beside him and ordered a drink. "You have quite a fan club over there." He said quietly. "A hazard of the industry, I'm afraid." She replied. "With a ten to one ration of males to females at this show every woman gets more than her fair share of attention---wanted or unwanted." "If the ratio were reversed I'm positive that you would still be the center of attention." He said, not suggestively, but as if he was simply stating a fact. Pretty good pick up line, she thought to herself. She turned to check him out more carefully. She did not recognize him. That surprised her because he would have been hard to miss. He was taller---pleasantly taller--- than she was even in her very high heals. He had his hair---blond with a hint of gray---and no hint of impending disaster in that department. He had a strong face. It was lightly tanned with good features. No evidence of stubble or bad shaving habits---she had always hated that Richard Nixon dour look of a man who needed to shave more than once a day. No paunch was in evidence nor any hint of love handles. His broad, strong shoulders were perfectly covered by his obviously upscale---probably custom made---suit jacket. The eyes---oh my God the eyes! She could not put into words the effect of his deep, piercing blue eyes. She felt confident that those eyes had moistened many a young cunt---as they were doing to hers at that very moment on the bar stool. "Are you going to rejoin your admirers, or would you like to leave?" He asked. "This is the only bar in this less than stellar hotel. Where did you have in mind?" She asked, with the first hint of flirtation. "Anyplace but here---as long as it is with you." He said. Oh yes, that was smooth, very smooth without a hint of a leer or a lascivious tone, she thought. I need to fuck somebody---a comfort screw. I could do a lot worse. It's unlikely that I'll do any better than this attractive stud. There's a wife at home---of that she was sure. Men this fine at this apparent age either had a cute little trophy wife---or ex wives who had long since sapped their manhood, their decency and their wallets. She assumed that, "any place but here" would mean a short walk that would ultimately end in his room. That would be okay, she mused. How old was he? She had just turned thirty. She judged him to be no older than forty. He threw some bills on the bar more than sufficient to cover his tab and her single drink, took her arm and led her toward the door. They were out of sight before her fan club even noticed that she was gone. They walked casually through the overly ornate lobby. Neither had any doubt as to where their final destination would be. He came in her mouth. It was a large load of very tasty spunk. She liked the taste of a man's fluid---this man's was particularly pleasant. She wasted none of the precious juice that was her reward for being a very accomplished little cock sucker. There had been few preliminaries to the blow job. They had kissed on entering his room---a much nicer room then she had. He was a very good kisser; she almost had a hint of romantic feelings as they urgently fumbled with each others garments. Right, she thought, romance was real likely with a man you've known for all of ten minutes. Very unlikely with a man whose cock you would suck vigorously like some cheap slut. She didn't want to admit it, but engaging in casual sex with men you hardly knew---and might well never see again---was the hallmark of a slut. She had become a slut. His hands were strong, soft and knowing. As they undressed each other those manly hands caressed her gently---not mauling her tender flesh or grabbing her treasures. She sensed that he wanted to make out longer. She, on the other hand wanted to suck, fuck and go home---or at least back to her room. She never spent the night with her conquests. She pushed him down on the edge of the bed and engulfed his prick in her hot young mouth. Time to get this show on the road, she thought to herself. As she savored the remains of his essence in her mouth, he effortlessly pulled her up on his lap as if she was a little girl and kissed her softly. He stroked her fine young hips with those amazing hands, sending electricity through her body. He gently nuzzled her breasts with his face. No nipple tweaking no---I didn't get enough of this from my mommy---tit sucking. He smoothly rolled her over and moved his soft lips down her body in search of the target they both knew he would quickly find. Oh fuck! She thought to herself. This guy is very good. He's got this job down to an art form. Her body thrilled as he demonstrated his own oral expertise on her now dripping little slit. She came much more quickly than she usually did. He did not let up, but continued to search for that special second orgasm that they both knew was inside her. He found it. She was very glad he did. He moved up to kiss her again, now sharing the sweet taste of her pussy with her. She reached down to find his meat, hoping he would be ready to penetrate her quickly. It was quite ready; it was bone hard and longer than most. Knowing the drill she placed a pillow under her own fine little behind and pulled her legs up nearly to her ears to give him optimum access. She was a very limber young lady. He teased her labia and clit with the massive bulbous head of his fuck stick. He teased her more with little shallow strokes, using just the head to caress her inner lips. When he slowly drove the whole thing to its limit in her slippery canal she knew they were both ready for a serious, cock jamming fuck. He did not disappoint her. The guy knew his stuff, she mused. He's one fine fuck and that's a magnificent cock. Just fuck me, she thought to herself; that's really what we're both here for. She seldom came from having a man jam her cunt with his dick without a little digital assistance. This was the part she enjoyed the most---being penetrated and filled by a health male tool. Cumming was secondary---she had already cum several times thanks to his oral prowess. She had forgotten the damned condom---not a smart move---but it was too late now. To her pleasant surprise his cock was every bit as hard as when she had blown him and he obviously was prepared to take her for as long as needed. To her complete surprise he made her cum---not once but twice. He had not cum; sensing that his astounding control might have impeded his own orgasm she decided to give him a more erotic visual stimuli---her astounding young rump. She rolled from under him, placed her hands on the head board and presented her delicious buns for servicing. A delightful swipe of his talented tongue included not only her steamy little box but her little brown hole. He gently rimmed her tight anal muscle and worked his fingers in and out of her slimy girl slit. He wants me there---in the other hole. Maybe, she thought, just maybe. Fill my pussy first. He understood. He fucked her hard, deep and long, lightly slapping her firm little behind as he progressed. His strong hands nearly surrounded her slim waist as he used those magnificent hands to control the motion of her fine young hips. She never came this way; she had already cum. It was his turn. After a long but delicious doggie fuck he came with a growl and shot a load of sticky goo deep in her tight little slot. In spite of herself, the hard cock rubbing her insides coupled with the tender ministration of his lips on her neck brought her off again. That's a first, she thought. It was quite simply the best performance by any man she bedded down in her memory. As he moved back to recover the drips of his own juice from her slimy fuck hole, he again found her tight anus and resumed his assault on her most private hole with his tongue. This time he began a slow tongue fuck of her little pooper. In spite of herself, she began to move her hot little ass in concert with his oral attention. He can't possibly be ready again, she thought. As he turned around to more precisely service and lubricate her crinkle she looked over and noted that his cock was, if anything, harder than ever. Give him your ass, slut. You know he wants it—he's preparing it---and you know you want it, you little whore. She did not enjoy being banged up the shitter from behind. She rolled on her side and he read her mind, coming up closely behind her as she wantonly reached back and spread her butt cheeks in invitation. He found the target quickly, jammed the fat head of his cock past the barrier muscle and slowly shoved his high hard one deep in her bowels. He pushed both of her thighs out of the way and settled into perfect position in front of her as he began a slow, lazy invasion of her rectum. Some women hate anal sex---the pain, the submission---the sense that it is just an act of male domination. She had had less than enjoyable anal experiences. This one was starting out very differently. He made love to her face and breasts with his lips and tongue as he made love to her ass. Love? You're getting boned up the shitter by a virtual stranger. You don't know his name because you never exchanged pleasantries. He was a handsome stranger with a magnificent and, evidently, perpetually hard and larger than average piece of male equipment. She considered helping herself with her nimble fingers. She realized that cumming again was not a requirement. She luxuriated in the feeling of this delightful man's rigid pole grazing her anal canal. I wonder if his wife gives up her ass this easily? She thought. He was, somehow both gentle and forceful as he plundered her most tender and tightest hole. He obviously had extensive experience in sodomizing willing young sluts---like her. He came with another roar which started as a low moan and grew in intensity. She felt the splash of his hot sticky essence on the walls of her rectum. She almost came, in spite of herself. When he removed his still hard organ from her stinky hole and went down on her again, she came---very unexpectedly and very pleasantly. What a great fuck, she thought. His wife is a lucky woman. They cuddled briefly in post coital bliss. She liked the feel of his arms around her, but knew that as was her habit, it was time for her to go. "Stay." He said, just the single word. "Not my style, baby." She said, gently kissing his lips and fondling his still serviceable cock. "I want to see you again---I don't even know your name." He said, on the verge of pleading. "I'm Jennifer---never Jenn, never Jenny. You were a great fuck, but let's keep it at first names only." She said, taking control as she so often did. "To each his or her own. I'm Sam---Sam Kennedy. I'm pleased to meet you Jennifer." He said, exiting the bed in all of his god-like nakedness and offering her his hand. She took the offered hand and shook it, kissing him once more as she seriously considered undressing and staying. She wouldn't. She was not looking for an affair. She didn't need complications. She sure as hell had no intention of becoming some married man's on and off again play thing. It was just a fuck---a great fuck---let it stand. As she moved toward the door to leave, she half turned and spoke. "Give my best to Mrs. Sam Kennedy." "Jennifer." He said, again just a single word. In spite of herself, she turned back toward him at the door. There was just something about the way he said her name. "There is a Mrs. Sam Kennedy---senior. That would be my mother and I'll certainly give her your regards, I know she'd like you. There is not now, nor has there ever been a Mrs. Sam Kennedy---Junior---regrettably." He informed her. Her resolve was ebbing, but she was still in control. She returned to the bed one more time, kissed him again and then spoke. "There aren't that many women in this industry anyway and you could certainly ask one of my admirers. It's Taylor---Jennifer Taylor." As she again reached the door to leave he spoke. "I know nothing about you---other than the fact that you are better in bed than any woman I've ever known." He paused and laughed. "Oh that's a good one, Sam, tell her she's a great fuck---that's sure to endear you." She laughed and came part way back in the room, taking a seat on a chair, still against her better judgment. He's not married. I've been lied to before on that account, this time it had not been a lie---she was sure. He was an extremely good looking man---and the best fuck of her life---on that there was no argument. She never fucked the same guy twice---it was just her way of avoiding complications. There could not be any remote possibility for a real, permanent relationship---she had let him pick her up in a bar and take her directly to his room. She had then blown him, fucked him and given him her ass---all without even knowing his name. His hands, his mouth, his cock, she mused---wow. Close the door on this, girl, as you always do. Leave and leave now. "I'll be in Columbus, Ohio on Friday for another trade show." She said, telling him which company she worked for. He showed definite recognition as she named her employer. "If you're there, maybe we can have a drink---or dinner---I'll even buy. This was just a fuck---for both of us, don't make more of it than that." She said, intentionally trying to push him away. She moved to the door again, grabbing the knob to escape. "Jennifer." He said softly, almost tenderly. "I don't believe that for a minute---at least not from my perspective. I'll see you in three days in Ohio." She exited his room with no further conversation. Big fucking deal---he wants to tap the little slut's holes again. Well, that wouldn't be that bad, she thought. He was an exceptional lover. He was not a lover---just a fuck---don't lose sight of the fact. Jennifer checked into her hotel in Columbus and dragged her Pullman up to her room. It was at least better than the last dump, she thought. There were flowers in the room---from the management? From her crappy company? No, she realized as she read the card, from Sam. Oh, shit, don't do this Mr. Kennedy. I'm just a little slut you picked up at a trade show. Don't you dare try to make me feel special. The note was short and very sweet. "Dear Jennifer. I've missed you very much. You promised me at least a drink and maybe dinner. Please call. Love, Sam." Love? No, that was just the way you sign a card as opposed to, "warmest regards". You don't love me, could never love me, you just want to fuck me. I can live with that. She intentionally did not call his room. She proceeded to the conference center. It was already full of partially inebriated customers. She prepared to take her shift at her company's booth. She didn't look for him in the crowd; she wasn't trying to find him. He found her halfway through her required presence at the product display. "Hi, I'm Sam Kennedy. You must be...Jennifer Taylor?" He exclaimed, squinting at her name badge as if he was meeting her for the first time. As they shook hands, her boss, a Vice President, rushed over, virtually knocking her aside as he extended his over anxious hand to Sam. Sam shook his hand but his face no longer had the warm smile with which he had greeted Jennifer. Sam spoke. It was a tone she had not heard before. It was icy and dismissive. "Mr.,ah Smith, is it? Mr. Smith. Ms. Taylor was just about to explain this new product to me when you barged in---nearly knocking her over. I'd like her to have the opportunity to finish---any problem with that?" The mortified VP backed away like an Arab rug merchant who had just offended his biggest customer, leaving the two of them alone again. She had never seen her over bearing boss turn so instantly into the submissive little worm that she knew he really was. Does he know Sam? I mean he obviously looks successful---like a potential big client---but was that all there was to it? "When do you get off duty, here, Jennifer?" Sam whispered. "Less than half an hour." She replied, giving him a warm smile that she had not shown anyone outside of her own family in a very long time. "My God you're beautiful when you smile like that!" Sam exclaimed. "You should do it more often." In spite of herself, Jennifer blushed. Men didn't make her blush, but this one just had. Sam returned to a more serious note. "Well with your boss giving us the eagle eye, you probably should take all of the time remaining to tell me all about this product." Jennifer was very good at her job. She could present this product better than anyone in the company. Her boss knew that, which made his attempted interference even more absurd. Sam obviously knew the product and its application very well---better than any other potential customers she had ever detailed it to. He asked the right questions. Being the professional she was, she never faltered even under the intense gaze of the handsome man in front of her. He hung on her every word, never letting his eyes leave her. She seldom got that moist feeling down there when doing a product presentation. This time she did. She wanted his cock inside her---soon. The hell with her damned, find, 'em, blow 'em, fuck 'em and forget 'em rule---she thought to herself. She'd make an exception for this man. As she finished up, Sam congratulated her on her excellent presentation. They both looked at the clock on the conference center wall---her shift was done. He turned and spoke to her cowering boss. Jennifer's Resurrection "Mr. Smith. If Ms. Taylor's time here has expired, I'd really like to chat with her at length on some of the more technical details---any problem with that idea?" Sam pointedly inquired. Resuming his offending rug merchant posture the VP assured Mr. Kennedy that he had no objections what so ever. "Grab your purse, or whatever, young lady. We're going to dinner." He said, taking her arm after she retrieved her purse and escorting her to the door. Their exit was accompanied by more than casual glances as they walked across the conference hall. Why not---she thought---they were a very attractive couple. "Do you want to change, or are you good to go? You certainly don't need to---you look absolutely stunning in that dress." He said. She agreed, blushed again and they moved to the exit. There was a car waiting; it was a limo but not one of the garish and ostentatious ones. It was a classic German motor car with a uniformed chauffeur. She gracefully entered the back seat, feeling for the moment far more like a lady than a slut. Sam moved to the other side and entered the car beside her. "So, am I Cinderella, tonight—does this car turn into a pumpkin at midnight?" She said, intending to be flip and then almost regretting it. "Quiet, you saucy wench!" Sam commanded, taking her in his arms and holding her tenderly as he gently kissed her warm young lips. Oh, God, don't fall for this man. You're just his little fuck toy—nothing more. His strong arms felt so good surrounding her that she almost wanted to forget their brief---completely carnal---history together. "Where are we going?" She asked. "If it's not too outrageous, I'm sure my boss wouldn't mind if I expensed it." She said. "This is not remotely a business dinner. It's a very personal one. I used to live just outside of town—still get back here often on business. One of my favorite restaurants is not only still here, but flourishing." Sam replied. Columbus is not that big a city. They arrived at their destination in less than ten minutes. Sam's favorite restaurant was old, pleasantly dark and adorned with lots of oak and leather. They were led to a table with more than a modicum of privacy. It occurred to her that she could probably go down on him right here and no one would be the wiser. They decided on wine. She preferred red, as did he. He picked an excellent Cabernet---one of her favorites. Sam spoke. "Everything on the menu is good and always fresh." He said, sampling his wine and nodding approvingly. "Now this dinner comes with a simple rule---violate it and you have to pick up the tab." He said with a grin. "You and I are on our very first date. We have no history---none. You're going to go first---you're going to tell me everything there is to know about Jennifer Taylor. I'm going to sit here and gaze lovingly into your eyes---hanging on your every word. Dinner is your turn. After dinner, we'll adjourn to the bar for a nightcap and you'll get my story in intimate detail. Fair enough?" Jennifer was more than a little stunned. How can this man who has enjoyed every one of my female orifices when he didn't even know my name be interested in me---interested this way? The staggering reality of what was unfolding hit her like a ton of bricks. It had been years since she had had anything approaching a real relationship---or gone on a real date. Her eyes moistened, but she kept from crying. She was strong that way. "Thank you." She said, dabbing her eyes with her napkin. "You just made me feel very, very special." Sam put his hand over her hand. "You are very special. I knew that the minute I first saw you. Now get on with it---I want the Jennifer story." She babbled and rambled at times, telling him of her parents, siblings and childhood years. She told him of her college experiences. As she became more comfortable she found it very easy to tell this very nice man across from her about her likes and dislikes---her hopes and dreams. She gave him a peek into her heart---a peek that she hoped would show him that she was more than a slut who picked up men in hotel bars and fucked their brains out. She felt a need to try to explain her perverse behavior, but as she neared that subject, he gently led her away from it. She knew they had to talk about it---if there was anything more to this than what it had started as three days earlier. The dinner was fabulous. As the plates were cleared they moved into the intimate bar area for the aforementioned night cap. "Jennifer." He began. "I need to jump out of order to address the issue you wanted to broach but I wouldn't let you. I have not had anything approaching a meaningful relationship in a very long time. Work has been a big part of that---but I've decided to make changes in my life so that work doesn't own me anymore. I was once very much---very completely---in love with a very special and wonderful woman. Almost a decade ago she was snatched from my arms in a horrific event which I won't---can't---dwell on right now, but I will tell you everything about it when the time is right." He took a sip from his single malt and continued. "I've spent far too many nights over the past ten years picking up attractive women---like you---in hotel bars or in airport lounges---my second home. I seldom know their names---and not unlike you---never have any desire to see them again. It's about fucking. It's about a little bit of comfort. It's about getting laid. It's all about having no messy complications." He took another sip and went on. "I have never once considered any of my sexual partners as anything other than a quick fuck. I never wanted them to be there in the morning---until I met you. I could tell you felt like a slut when you blew me—quite expertly I might add---on your knees in that hotel room. So, guess, what? We've both spent too much of our lives acting like sluts---what I do is no different than what you have done." He paused again and then continued. "I don't want to be a slut anymore Jennifer---and neither do you. I want to be in love again---and so do you. I want to grow old in the loving arms of that one special person---I want to know how that kind of forever feels and I hope and pray that you do also. I want babies and a home and a life. I want the two of us to work harder than any two people have ever worked in their lives to find that one special love that my heart tells me you and I have a damned good chance of finding---together---with each other." Completely shaken to the core she got out of her chair and stood for a second. He feared for an instant that she might say goodbye---forever. He thought he might have laid too much on her too quickly. To his relief she climbed into his lap like a special little girl and hugged him for dear life. "There is a God, Sam Kennedy, there is a God—don't ever doubt it." She said, interrupting her own words as she caressed his mouth with her own. Soft tears filled her eyes. "How did I get this damned lucky? I feel like such a special little girl right now, sitting in your lap. I want to be your special little girl. Where in the world did you come from, you amazing man? Please don't ever give up on me---I'll never give up on you. I so desperately want to love away the pain in your heart. Will you let me? Can you fall in love---again—with someone like me? Is any of this even real?" And she kissed him again. "I already have, dear heart, I already have. And it's the most real thing I've known in a very long time." He replied, softly kissing her eyes and nose. Jennifer got half way serious again. "Well at least we already know we're pretty amazing together in bed---that saves a lot of time." She laughed as did he. Returning to her chair, she again spoke. "You have a story to tell; I want to hear it." While they were ten years apart in age, it was uncanny how similar their lives had been in many respects. They had come from very similar families and grown up in the same region of the country. They were of the same religion and held many of the same values. Had they met years earlier under different circumstances, they would certainly have found a mutual attraction. Their tastes in art, music and literature were astoundingly similar. It was as he brought the chronology up to date that it became particularly interesting. He had started and was the President of her company's largest single customer---representing over half of her company's proceeds. That explained her boss's deferential manner. There was one more bombshell in his arsenal. "Jennifer, we're going to be seeing a lot of each other---I hope and pray for a very long time. People do talk. I don't know quite how to say this, but you may have to quit your current job." He somberly proclaimed. Why? What do you mean?" She replied more than a little concerned at losing what had become her life. "Both of our companies have pretty stringent policies against fraternization---I know ours does, I wrote it." He paused to choose his words carefully. "I made a tender offer on your company yesterday---simple, practical vertical integration. Your board approved it this afternoon—it's been in the works for some time. It's not remotely a hostile takeover. The SEC has already given tacit approval---so it will go forward within thirty days. By this time next month, you'll work for me---or you'll be my wife if I can get you to say yes by that time. Either way, you can't really stay with the company." "I see what you mean." Jennifer said, thoughtfully, her head snapping up in surprise. "Did you 'kinda, sorta', half assed just ask me to marry you?" She exclaimed incredulously. "That's my intent, come hell or high water, but I promise you a formal proposal and the ring that goes with it. I can't beat around the bush here. I love you, damn it, Jennifer. I know it more than I've ever known anything in my life. When a man loves a woman he's supposed to marry her—didn't your folks teach you anything?" He quipped. "I'm holding you to it---I'm going to say yes right now so you don't have any doubt that I love you, I want to be your wife and I want to have your babies---how's that for not beating around the bush?" She asked. "I knew I'd made a good choice." He replied as the two lovers grinned like Cheshire cats across the table. As they left the bar to return to the waiting car, Jennifer snuggled tightly against the strong body of the man she would, in fact, very soon marry. "What was your family's attitude toward premarital sex?" She asked, coyly. "They were pretty strongly against it, I'm afraid---how about your folks?" He playfully asked. "About the same." She replied. "You wanna fuck?" "It's amazing how lucky a guy can get when he buys a girl a nice dinner." He responded, holding her in his arms as they drove back to the hotel. As the phone rang in his room late the next morning after a glorious night of carnal excess, he realized it was for her. Covering the mouth piece, he half offered her the phone. "Believe it or not, it's you boss. He's been trying to get a hold of you since we left the booth together. He actually sounds worried. What do you want me to tell him?" He asked. "I'll take it." She responded, taking the phone and speaking to her boss. "Oh, no, you misunderstood. I'm not engaged in an early sales discussion with Mr. Kennedy. I've been here all night, since we got back from dinner. No, we haven't been doing much talking, a little sleeping but an amazing amount of fucking. As I think about it, you may want to take this as my two weeks notice. What? Of course he's going to buy our products---all of them. Bye, now---please don't call back, I think his cock is hard again---oh, yes very hard!" She joined him in laughter on the bed as it became obvious that it was once again time to screw. As they held each other tightly in the bliss that only true lovers can comprehend, Jennifer spoke. "How soon are you going to marry me again?" She asked. "I'd marry you today, if I could. I figure we need to get the families mobilized. We need to get the license---blood tests. I still need to ask your dad for you hand in marriage. Rings—the formal proposal, invitations---can we do all that in thirty days?" He said. "I certainly hope so. I'm very careful. I'm not on the pill but I always use a condom--- without fail. I never forget. I didn't---either last night or three days ago; I've never forgotten to use one except with you---another possible sign of blessed fate. If I don't start my period in four more days, I'm pregnant---I'm a very fertile little girl. We're talking a shot gun wedding." She said. "Nothing like a deadline to spur one to action." He replied, grinning. "Just in case you're not pregnant---and I pray that you are---do you like to fuck when you're on the rag?" "I don't really have any experience in that department---but if you're up for it, I am." She coyly responded, then added her own final thought. "If it gets too messy there's always the backdoor, my very special backdoor man." She said, caressing his rapidly hardening cock and knowing exactly where she wanted him to put it.