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Fertile

By: foxxxie



My wife, Lynn, and I have been married for three years; last year we decided to start our family. We bought two extra beds and set them up in different rooms, each covered in different sheets. Blue covers for our son to be and pink for our girl; a bit stereotypical but the whole process was exciting. After setting a few baseball bats and stuffed animals up we closed the doors and set a cradle up in our room. A year later the brass knobs on the doors have grown dusty and our cradle has yet to be rocked. 

Sandwiched between the stucco covered drywall and my wife's embrace, I stare at a picture of a pheasant flying over a field of wheat. The picture hangs over our cradle. On, Lynn's side of the bed is a little white nightstand with our coffeemaker on top. Just outside of our bedroom is the bathroom; our bathroom centers around the blue linoleum floor and a off blue counter and strange royal blue sink with peacock spouts. She found a royal blue sink on e-bay and had the sink put into our bathroom. Honestly, I lost the whole blue argument. Our living room is in the center of the house with the kitchen attached to it. Across from the living room are two empty rooms whose doors remain closed. 

Beads of sweat roll down my face and back leaving a damp circle on our ivory sheets. Shifting onto my side I can see my wife; her mouth is open with a strand of drool is running down onto the pillow. I unlock her hands from around my waist and push her back onto her side of the bed; she reaches out her hands to pull herself closer to me.



"Is cold." She says to me from under three blankets and our comforter. Her hands latch around my waist again suctioning her naked body to mine so she can leech off my heat. Slowly I scoot my butt backward trying to push us farther from the wall. Reaching under the covers I fold the comforter back so I can see her face. My hand rubs her belly and I move my face closer to her lips to give her a kiss.

"No. To early. Sleep." She turns her body away from me. Lynn and I have been trying to have a child for the past year, so far nothing. At this point either of us would take a miscarriage over nothing. I put my hands on her neck and start to massage it slowly. 

"Elijah, sleepy time." Lynn curls up into a ball. I slide my hands down her back and continue to rub. Lynn's face turns to me and with slit eyes gives me a sharp glare. 

"Sleep. Tomorrow." Lynn wriggles away from me. I lay on my back again to see the pheasant across the room; at least she is no longer trying to sap my body heat. The pheasant is lucky to be alone in his painting, no wife, no worries, just the open sky and a full wheat field in which to soar. I lay in bed until about seven then go to take a shower. Going back into my room I reach over to our nightstand and turn on the coffee maker. After a year's worth of marriage we figured why go to the kitchen to make coffee when the machine could work as an alarm and a brewer. Looking over at our bed my wife is sprawled out over the entire bed, half above and below our sheets, face down. Lynn's butt peaks out over the sheets; I sit just staring at her perfect tight ass while the steam of the coffeemaker rises up to my face. Lynn turns to look at me, her eyes opening to slits, she spies me looking at her ass and pulls the comforter up. 

"Excuse me?" 

"Sorry." I return.

"Mmhmm." She turns her face back to her pillow. Lynn then slides the comforter back down just to the point where I can not quite see her butt. The buzz the coffeemaker makes catches me off guard. One scoop of black coffee grounds falls into the filter; looking at Lynn again, we need two more scoops. The thick black liquid squirts into pot. 

"Here." I say to Lynn. One hand slithers out from under the covers then reaches up into the air and starts grabbing at nothing. I carefully time sliding the mug between each grasp. She pulls the cup to her side then turns her head to take a sip. After a swallow of the liquid energy she turns over and opens her eyes completely. "What do we have to do today Hun?" I ask.

"Um. Not much I guess. I don't have any work to get done." She takes another sip. "Oh!" she springs out of bed and runs into the bathroom. I follow her out the door and step onto the cold linoleum floor. In the bathroom Lynn opens the medicine cabinet and takes out a home pregnancy test; Lynn sits on the toilet and places the test between her legs. Pulling the test out she stares waiting for a smiley face. 

Is a pregnancy really the most advanced thing she'll ever pee on? I guess girls don't pee on stuff the way guys do. What is the most advanced thing I've peed on? My dad's old tractor, a tractor has got to be more advanced then a pregnancy test, but then again I've never peed on a pregnancy test to find out. 

Lynn throws the test at the mirror and pushes me aside as she leaves the bathroom. 

"What's wrong babe?"

"Another fucking line. Nothing absolutely nothing."

"Well something must be wrong, it can't be nothing." I say, following her as she closes our walk-in-closet door leaving me to wait for her. 

"The test. It's negative."

"Oh." I wait silently; hearing her thrash about in the closet looking for clothes. "Do they work the day after, don't you have to wait for a missed period or something?"

"You don't know how they work. It's a girl thing." I hear Lynn throw an object at the walls in our closet.

"Ok. I'm sorry." I wait for a moment. "Still, I don't think a test works the day after; pregnancy tests aren't like the pill."

She walks out of the closet having found nothing but underwear to put on. Lynn falls onto the bed and balls up into the blankets. 

"Baby, everything is going to be fine. We still have us." Rubbing my hands on her back I sit next to her.

"What if it's me?" she asks. She pulls the covers up over her head.

"What do you mean?" Lynn's only reply sounds like teacher from a Charlie Brown movie. "What?" Her head pokes out.

"What if I'm broken?" She moves the covers up over her head again.

What if we couldn't have children, would we still be in love. In high school we used to joke about the names we would like to have. College we formally decided on names for a boy and later a girl. Now we have rooms ready everything we ever dreamed about has come true for us. We got married and bought a house, both of us work at the jobs we wanted. Not having a child is the only part of our relationship left unfulfilled. I understand how Abraham felt about Sarah and why having a child was so important. Sarah felt that 80 was to late for her to ever have a child, here Lynn and I wonder if 35 is to late.

"Beautiful. You're not broken. Babies just take time." Another mumble comes from under the covers. "What?"

Her head pokes out. "I have an appointment today at a clinic. I'm getting checked out."

"Ok babe."

"You would still love me if I'm broken right?" I lean closer to her and scoop her up into my arms, then slide under the covers holding her onto my lap.

"Of course. I didn't marry you because I thought you would make good babies. I married you because I love you."

"Yeah." She spins around wrapping her legs around my waste and begins to kiss my neck. Her hand slides down to my legs and pushes into my crotch.

"Hey. Beautiful are you allowed to have sex before you go to the clinic?" I ask. Her hand moves up to my neck and embraces it. 

"I don't know. Good point though." She climbs off me and heads back into the closet. I can't believe I just said that to her. Possibly the stupidest thing I've ever said in my life. What man turns down sex from his wife, not only that, sex in the morning. Sex in the morning means sex at night, and now I will not get either. Damn it. 

I stack some dishes on the island in the kitchen. The stainless steal dishwasher is vibrating in its socket against our sink. Grabbing a towel off the counter top I jam it between the hard plastic floor and the machine to stop the sound. Water splashes off plates and bowls; I put a plate under the water using my fingernails to grind off pieces of crusted meat and spaghetti noodles. After the dishes I go into the living room to pick up the clothes that we had left out from the night before. Crumpled up on the tea table is her blouse and beside it a bra; picking up the blouse I pull it up to my nose. I love how my wife's clothes smell. Our front door slams and Lynn comes running in, dropping her coat on the table. She runs to me and jumps up into my chest expecting me to catch her; her weight throws me backwards into the couch. Boney hips dig into my side; Lynn starts kissing my neck and moving her hands on my chest.

"The tests were good." She says to me taking only a moment to stop kissing. "The doctor did an ultrasound and some sort of fallow-scoopy thing and he says I look healthy." Her hands run under my shirt and pull it off. 

"That's good news." She slides down to the ground and starts to undue my pants.

"I want you to go get checked out." Her hands slide up my bear legs.

"What? No. Lynn I am not really into that sort of thing." My hands reach down to stop her while we discuss.

"The clinic, you'll go tomorrow." I can feel her hand wrap around my cock; my hands fall to the sofa.

"Baby. I don't want..." 

"You need to go get checked tomorrow." Her hand moves in a rhythmic motion.

"K."  



Sitting out in my car I stare at the white brick building. Leaning back in my seat and I stare up into the sky. A pack of spearmint gum lies on the dashboard, a fourth piece folds into my mouth. The wad grows in my mouth and I move it over into my cheek. One woman enters the building holding a baby with two young boys following behind her. All I want is one and she is wondering if she can have four, some people are just assholes. The tinted windows on the clinic don't allow me to get an accurate count of who is inside. Automatic doors swing open, I toss the wad of gum aside onto the grass and I take a step inside. The waiting room has a typical checkered floor with a couple of couches and chairs lining the room. In one wall a window is cut out and a rather large woman sits in the chair staring silently at a blue screen of a computer that is reflected off her glasses. 

"Name?" the lady doesn't look at me.

"Elijah Crawford."

"Sign in please." She turns to face me. "What are you here for?"

"I need a physical. Well, a check up."

"Right." She reaches down and pulls a small plastic cup up and sets it on the counter. "Take this we'll call you when a room is ready."

"Um." I look at her name tag. "Bertha, is there any other way then the cup."

"If you want we can use a tiny camera, get the count that way, or you can..." Bertha picks the cup up and holds it between her index and thumb and then shakes the cup in front of my face. I take the cup and walk to the back of the room. To my right is the woman I saw walking in, she is breast feeding while slapping the hands of her younger son away as he tries to climb into her lap. The waiting room has five other women sitting in different positions, some read magazines others fiddle around in there purses. One short woman comes over and sits next to me.

"I think you're brave." 

"I'm sorry?" I say back to her.

"Most men don't have the guts it takes to come in here. You really have balls."

"Thank you?" I look over and pick up a magazine quickly without looking and open to a random page.

"The fact is most men have a problem they just don't want to do anything about it." I don't say anything to her and flip a few pages. "I know my man wouldn't be caught dead in here." I wonder if she really even has a man. "Worried about your wife's breasts?"

"Huh?"

"Your reading about breast enlargement, you worried that a baby will stretch them out?" I look down at the magazine and see four different women standing in a line up comparing breast sizes, before and just after getting pregnant. 

"Mr. Crawford." With a click Bertha goes silent. Why she needed a loud speaker to announce who was next in the small waiting room I don't know. I set the magazine down and walk up to the receptionist; a nurse in teal scrubs meets me.

"We'll be in room 21B." she says to me. Do nurses wait in the room while I extract semen; God that would be awkward. She walks around the corner and opens a door for me. The room looks like a typical appointment room with a bed covered in tea paper. The difference between this room and the typical appointment room is the television with built in tape player in the corner and a small rack of magazines mounted on the wall. 

"If you need material there are some magazines here, and a few tapes you can choose from in the desk below the T.V. The doctor will come in a bit to collect the sample and talk to you about the tests." She, thankfully, walks out and closes the door. 

I take another quick sweep around the room and look at the television. I press play; the screen kicks on in the middle of a scene with two men having sex. The television is blaring as two men moan loudly. I scramble to hit the off button, the power doesn't work. Hit the power button again, slowly at first then rapidly, I bang my fist against T.V. and try to turn down the volume. The door opens and the female nurse pops her head in. 

"Everything alright sir?" 

"I can't get this off." She looks at me then at the T.V. and walks over and presses stop. The screen goes black. The nurse gives me a look up and down before she goes out. Hopping onto the long grey bed covered in paper I undue my pants. Half naked I sit and try to adjust myself on bed; the wrinkling paper is so loud the nurse must be wondering what the hell I am doing. As cold as the room is I am not surprised by how small my dick looks in my hand. Pulling my cell phone out I dial Lynn's number.

"I can't do this."

"What baby?" she asks.

"I'm at the clinic. I can't just masturbate."

"Elijah, I'm at work, I can't discuss this right now."

"Well what am I supposed to do."

Her voice goes low on the receiver. "Just think about last Friday. I really can't talk. Have a good day baby." She hangs up. I guess masturbating at a clinic qualifies as a good day in most men's books. 

I close my eyes and try to envision my wife standing naked before me. The picture changes to her undressing and just as she gets to her bra I can see Bertha the receptionist standing behind her. Bertha smiles and holds a little plastic cup up to her face and begins to shake it. Thick fingers go back and forth while my wife continues to undress. This is not working. Opening my eyes I see my cold hands wrapped around my dick the only change is that it looks smaller. I get up and head over to the wrack of magazines. I reach behind and pull up a magazine that looks relatively unused. Wedding Night Dump, is printed at the top. The pictures inside show newly wedded wives laying underneath there husbands who are taking a dump. I throw the magazine across the room, feeling a bit of vomit come up into my mouth. I reach down and pull my pants back on. Outside the door the nurse is washing her hands.

"Nurse, I think I'll take the camera." Worst decision of my life.

With the 'check up' over I sit on my bed and just wait. The pheasant does his continual loop over his field. Lynn comes through the front door and call for me.

"In here." I reply. She comes through the door.

"So?" she asks "How did it go?"

"Terrible."

"Was the clinic that bad?"

"I kept picturing you and Bertha together."

"Bet that was hot."

"Yeah, for Bertha." Lynn climbs into bed with me and lays her head in my lap. "So I elected to have the camera."

"The what?" I explain the whole lubricated process to her. "Dear God!"

"Yeah." 

"And the results?"

"Processing. Men take a little more time then ladies." For once.

"Well sounds like you need some special treatment." She runs her hand up my thigh.

"Not tonight baby." 

"Really?" She leaves to go to the kitchen to get something to eat. I simply stare at the emasculate pheasant. 



After dinner the phone rings.

"Mister Crawford."

"Yes."

"Hi, this is Doctor Lewis from the clinic. I have your results from testing.

"Alright."

"We need you to come back in to confirm the test. Our lab consensus is that you have Azoospermia. The tests are not final until we do a second check. Azoospermia is a disease where your body is not producing any sperm, or something is blocking the sperm from reaching the semen. However, because of the test administered we know that nothing is blocking. Again we will need you to come back in; you can schedule an appointment with Bertha." I hang up on him.

Azoospermia. Infertile. Broken. I return to the living room. Lynn is sitting on our couch sipping from a mug of coffee. 

"Was that the doctor?" she asks me.

"Yeah." 

"Well?" I tell her the disease. "So what, I can't have children now." I sit silently. "Ok well, there are a lot of choices that I have. I could go to a sperm bank." The child would be of another father, the baby would be Lynn's, not mine; the child could never be ours. "Or we could... Your brother we could ask him." Our future child being the product of my brother; I would see my son and know that my wife had scientifically induced sex with my brother. Neither of us could stand the thought of having a child that wasn't ours. We got married to have a family; having a child is the point of getting married, the child was us. Us did not exist without a child, the dream of having a baby created an us. I cam not provide her a child, I am the broken one. I look at Lynn and see a potential mother married to a sterile man. Lynn gets up off the floor and grabs her keys off the counter.

"Where you going?" I ask.

"I told you last week, Jason is in town. I am going out to dinner with him."

"Jason from high school?"

"Yeah. I'll see you later." She walks out the door. 

A ray of sun pierces through our dusty blinds and hits me in the eyes. I open my eyes to see the solo male pheasant flying above a dying wheat field. On hunting trips only male pheasants are allowed to be hunted, that way the females can repopulate for next season. Lynn lays curled up on the opposite side of the bed, she wears a grey hoodie and sweat pants. I get up out of bed and hit the alarm on the coffee machine. Lynn sits up in bed and watches the water pour into the pot; She reaches over for her mug and fills it on her own, then hands me the half empty pot. 

"I have to be to work early." Lynn says to me.

"Alright."

Lynn gets out of bed and heads to the bath room. I sit on the bed and finish my coffee.

"I'll make you some breakfast." 

"I got to go, I'm gonna be late. See you tonight." Lynn walks out of the door and I get ready to go to back to the clinic.



Bertha sits behind her desk with a doughnut with multi colored sprinkles in her hand. 

"Sign in please." I take the list and sign it. "Mister Crawford, nice to see you again."

"Yeah." Bertha knows what happens if a man comes in for the second time, she doesn't have to pretend to be nice in greeting now. How come people become extra nice when they know you have a disease? 

"The nurse will be with you shortly Mister Crawford."

"I'll take the cup."

"Are you sure Mister Crawford?"

"Yes."

The second time in the room is a ton easier then the first. I have to fill this cup as much as possible. Five minutes in the room and I miss the bottle. The counter has a couple latex gloves, I grab one and try to wipe some of my semen from the grey bed into the cup. The cup looks relatively empty. I need to do this again, get more in the cup, lots of semen surely means millions of baby producing sperm. Bending over the bed I start to masturbate again. The door behind me opens.

"Oh God, excuse me. I'm sorry sir I didn't mean to." She closes the door. 


Fertile Fields



I never knew Momma. From the stories I heard she wasn't much; poor white trash, dirty blond hair (the color, not hygiene), plain features, a bit on the short side. What there was of her looked tired and much older than her 19 years. There was an old newspaper photo of her, but it was lost due to age and handling.

Her Daddy was a mean old man who hated everyone. His wife grew tired of his mean, miserly ways and ran off with a trucker who happened to pass through town. Momma took most of his anger after that.

Momma used to work down at the diner; the same one her Momma ran off from, with the trucker. She was a shy young thing from the reports I heard. Her fear of men was to be expected after the poor treatment by her father. 

There was a young fellow who came through town every so often; he was a traveling salesman. It took almost a year for him to get Momma's attention. It took even longer to get her to accompany him on a date. I heard they went to a movie, no one remembers which one.

Afterward they went to the lake to watch the sub races. He managed to get into her panties that night. The next day he was gone again. When he returned 5 months later Momma told him she was pregnant. He swore it was not his and called her a whore. Then he was gone again the next day.

She saw him again 3 months later; when she tried to talk to him her beat her badly and dumped her out along the Old Swamp Road in the dead of the night. He drove off that night and never returned to the area. He did not know that old Rupert saw him push her out. 

Rupert was a share cropper. His shack was not much, but it was almost warm in the winter and dry all year round. 

Rupert never went to school; his Mother taught him to read and do math and to plant a garden. He never knew his father. His mother died of the flu when he was 16. She had promised to tell him who his father was when he turned 18.

Even though they didn't own the land he, and his mother, never paid rent. They just paid the taxes each year. He never knew who owned the property. She didn't say.

Rupert knew better than to go after the authorities as he was coal black and the girl who was thrown out was a white as the snow. His only hope was to get Ms. Dolly who owned the diner to come over and take the girl to the clinic. The walk was over 6 miles; by the time they got back she had died. Lying on the bed between her legs was a tiny baby boy. He was very much alive.

Ms. Dolly and Rupert buried Momma out back behind the shack beside his mother. The next year she and Rupert planted a pink rose on her grave. His mother already had a bright red one. They both put out the most fragrant, beautiful flowers I have ever seen.

The rumor spread that Momma had left with the man. I stayed with Rupert.

Ms. Dolly made sure we had enough to eat. It sure was difficult to get Rupert to accept any kind of help. Many times she just put it on the ground and drove off knowing he wouldn't waste good food.

I was easy to hide for the first 8 years. His shack was about 300 feet off the road and there was a bend on the wooded lane to the house, which hid it.

For the first 6 years I was just Boy. There were no toys or the money to buy them. For birthdays I was allowed to select what we ate for dinner. On my sixth birthday he allowed me to pick my name. It was difficult to choose. 

There was never any secret as to how I came to live with him. Each year on my birthday he would tell me the story until I was able to recite it back to him. Then each year I told it to him, he would gently correct anything left out or errors in my telling the story.

Every evening he read from the Bible to me. We always stopped when the light was too dim to read any further. We rose with the sun and went to bed when it went down. Candles and lanterns were for special times or if needed. 

By the time I was five I was reading and doing simple math. By my sixth birthday his eyes were beginning to fail; so I took over the daily reading. 

As was our custom we would start from the front and work to the back of the book and then repeat it. That evening I read the story of Joseph and how he was sold into slavery. I kept reading the story until he returned to his father and forgave his brothers.

"Rupert." I said "I want to be called Joseph. I think my story is sort of like his. Neither my Momma nor I were wanted. My Momma was out of the car hoping I would die with her. I am thankful that I have a different daddy instead of him. We both care for each other as if we were kin."

The next week I told him "I have decided to forgive my real father for the way he treated me and Momma." Rupert smiled.

I was close to my 8th birthday when the sheriff came down the lane and saw me. I took off at a trot into the woods. The sheriff asked who I was.

Rupert just simply replied that "...he was out one day and when he came back I was there."

When asked when that was he just replied "Been a while back. He comes in for meals every now and then. I taught him to read and write. He told me his name is Joseph, like the man in the Bible."

The sheriff came by often for a while but never saw me again. 

Things were fine for a while except that Rupert was getting older and slower. I took care of him more than he took care of me. We still went into the fields every day to work. "Idle hands are the devils work" he told me.

To help with things I was working mornings at Ms Dolly's place. We used the money to fix the house up. I worked in the back doing the dishes and was learning to cook simple dishes. I walked the 2 miles to her place and she took me the rest of the way to work. After the noon rush she would drive me back home with a meal for Rupert. One day he did not return from the fields to softly chide Ms, Dolly for spoiling me by driving me home. I went looking for him and found him asleep under his favorite oak. I woke him and we walked back to eat. He seemed to be a little slower that day. After eating he decided to take a nap in his hammock out in the yard.

As I help him into the hammock he said "Always remember, I love you as if you were my own."

I told Him I loved him too. When I checked on him an hour later he was dead. He had known his time was near. I had wondered why he chose that day to tell me he loved me; it was understood by our actions and kind words with each other that it was true.

The sheriff went up or down the road 3 or 4 times a day; so I wrapped Rupert in a clean sheet and left him in the hammock for the time being. Then I walked out to wait for the sheriff to come by. Rupert had instructed me years ago in what to do when he died.

The look of surprise on the sheriff's face to see me standing at the end of the lane to flag him down was amusing, to say the least. For years he would get a short glimpse of me and I would melt into the woods and be gone. Now I was waiting for him and flagging him down.

I explained that Rupert had died and he needed to call the people that verify that; he wanted to be buried beside his mother. It took ¾ of an hour or better for the man in the black car to come out and examine him. "Yep, he's dead." was all he said. He wrote some information in a book and gave me a sheet of paper with some numbers on it. 

"Take this to the court house next week and they will give you the paperwork that says he was examined and is dead. 

Shortly after he left Ms Dolly came flying into the place, she had heard the call on the police radio. I had dug the grave by then and placed him in it. She had brought her preacher along with her; the man said a few prayers and we covered him with dirt. The next week she brought a white rose for me to plant on his grave. She said she chose white because "...he was a saint to have taken me in and raised me when no one else would have wanted me. He did a fine job; you are a wonderful young man. 

The next week a young woman who looked to be only a few years older than me, came by from Children's Services. She asked all kinds of questions. I told her all the facts as Rupert had told me. She did the math and said "You need to come with me since you are still under 18 years old." 

I had been instructed to never mention Ms. Dolly when explaining how I came to live there. So I simply told her "I will be 18 the next week."

"The law is quite clear that you can not be left alone until you are 18 or declared to be emancipated by the court."

I said "OH, look! There is a fox!

She turned to see it and when she turned back I was gone. The only thing she heard was "Come back and see me next Friday." It echoed from the woods.

I went the back way to Ms. Dolly's house. She understood my not working for the next week. I spent the week working in the garden and sleeping in the woods at various places. She stopped in a few times to try and catch me, I simply lay down in between the rows.

She was back the next Friday madder than a wet hen. I was just sitting down to lunch; I invited her to join me. She said the food was good and was surprised that I had cooked it all on the open fire pit in the back yard. She wanted to take me in to her office afterward. 

I made sure she knew I was now 18. She smiled and said "I have to prove to the bosses that you exist and that you left me sitting there last week. If I can't I might loose my job."

I agreed to go but they had to meet me outside. I talked to the old woman who was giving her so much trouble about losing me. We sat at a picnic table in the courtyard of the building. Most of their questions were answered to their satisfaction when I said "Is that a bald eagle flying over there?"

They all looked where I pointed. When they turned back I was on the other side of the courtyard. As I returned I said "I could be halfway out of town by now. If I get to the woods you might never see me."

The sheriff came around the corner just then; "You are certainly a remarkable young man. No wonder I never caught you for over 10 years." He was laughing.

"The only time you almost caught me was the last time you got a new car. I can tell the sound of your cars half a mile away."

"Maybe I should have snuck up on foot?"

"No use, I can smell that cigar even further than hearing your car."

We shook hands.

Miss Melody Matthews drove me home that afternoon. I fixed another meal that couldn't be beat. Afterward we sat and talked for a while; and then I took her for a tour of the farm.

"How do you keep everything so clean and simple here?"

"When you learn from childhood how to live this way it is easy. I don't know anything else."

I heard her sigh that "It would be nice to live like this."

"You are welcome to visit for a while."

She blushed.

Over the next months she became a more frequent visitor to the farm; some evenings she slept over in my bed while I slept in Rupert's bed. One night there was a terrible thunderstorm, the winds were high and the old house shook and creaked. I woke to feel her shaking my arm "How can you sleep through that storm; I'm scared to death by it." She sat down on the bed and we talked for a bit; she never let go of my arm.

The next morning found us holding each other. I woke first and was surprised to see her laying there. 

I lay there watching her sleep, amazed at just how pretty and innocent she appeared. Soon she stretched and opened her eyes. The confusion on her face made me laugh. I reminded her of the storm during the night. She frowned.

"I slept so well with you holding me. I don't think I have ever slept better. I felt so secure and loved." She smiled and kissed me on the cheek.

From that night on we slept together in my bed. It took us months before we did much more than hold hands. It was all so slow. We savored each change. The first time the back of my hand accidentally brushed against her breast she inhaled deeply and shuddered. A week later she took my hand and held it there. 

Rupert had no experience with sex and had not done more than to tell me men and women were different. When I asked he shrugged his shoulders and said "...don't really know, just different. I was immediately sorry to have embarrassed him like that.

I knew women had breasts that were used to feed their young like any other animal. What I didn't know was what I could do with them to make a woman happy. I also knew about how some animals mated. Somehow I realized that biting a woman's neck and trying to mount her like cats did was not appropriate. Most of the animals made it look like it was a duty to mate with the females. That did not seem right either.

Slowly we explored how things made us feel. I took note in my mind about what seemed to make her feel good. Finally we made love one night. There was a lot of fumbling and confusion, but the sensations just got better and better. Afterward I stayed awake most of the night thinking about all the wonderful feelings involved. I loved the warm, wet tightness that held me in her. Then there was the point where my head felt like it was spinning. I thought I would pass out with the sensations just before my penis slowly began to shrink and slipped out of her. I did not understand why it did that; the confusion was incredible. There were too many things to think about at the same time.

The next morning she woke first. I opened my eyes to see the biggest smile yet on her face. "Last night was so good, thank you for being so gentle. Did you know it was my first time?"

I replied "Me too. What happened?"

It took a while before Melody stopped laughing. "We made love!"

"Like animals mating? It sure felt good. No wonder they want to do it."

After the next round of laughter and even more huge smiles she said "Yes, just like that. You are a wonderful, gentle man and I love what we did."

We spent many evenings trying different things, except for the time she told me she was in season. Four months later she did not come into season as she did every month. I asked her if there was anything wrong. The tears in her eyes and the message she spoke confused me.

"Nothing is wrong. If my guess is correct, we will be having a baby in 8 or 9 months."

I had never been to a doctor before. She insisted that I go with her to see the doctor. I could not let her see me scared to go so I did my best to hide it. She saw right through my efforts. 

There were forms to fill out; I did not know the answers for many of their questions. The one that bothered me the most was when that asked my name. I proudly answered "Joseph."

"Well, what is the rest, Joseph what?"

"Just Joseph; there is no more. Rupert let me choose my name for my sixth birthday. He didn't ask for any more."

"What was your mother's name?"

"I was told it was Sandra Welsh."

The room went silent.

"I was raised by Rupert....Rupert Johnson. My mother died the day I was born; she is buried out back of the house beside Rupert and his mother."

Still there was silence.

Melody said "You did not include that information in your other interview."

"You didn't ask those questions."

She thought about it "You're right those questions are not on the forms."

"I might have known it was you." I didn't need to turn to know it was the sheriff. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Melody looked at him; before I could speak she asked "Did you ask him those questions? Neither did we."

The clinic and the sheriff took turns getting information out of me. Soon everyone knew the full story, except for Ms. Dolly's involvement.

"Why didn't Rupert involve the Department when he found the girl?"

"He said he tried to help. Momma died before he got back with someone to help."

"Who might that be?"

"I was too little to know."

I was told I needed to have a full name. I chose Joseph Johnson Welsh.

There was a criminal investigation into Momma's death. Eventually they found my father; he was tired of looking over his shoulder. Eventually when confronted with the evidence that I was his son he confessed to beating her up and pushing her out of the car on that road. 

The folks at the court house managed to get him sentenced to 4 years in a work camp. The day he was sentenced I told him "I forgave you years ago." I turned and walked away. We never saw each other again; he died of cancer just before his release date.

The folks who ran the camp forwarded a letter he wrote to me thanking me for forgiving him and saying he was sorry for what he did. He was proud to have a son like me.

By the time he died Melody and I were expecting our third child, actually third and fourth. 

My real grandfather had died the year before. He never wanted to meet the bastard, as he called me. He was so senile when he found out about me that he was unable to write the will he wanted that would exclude me from inheriting anything. His brother and brother's sons wanted his farm really badly. I sold it to them for a lot less than the value. We used the money to build a new house in front of Rupert's old shack. The rest we put into the bank.

Melody did some investigating and found out that our property was owned by a man who had died 30 years ago. His family did not know about the lot. It cost us $250 to file the forms requesting the land to be awarded to my by adverse possession. The law required that we use the land openly, without permission, and pay the taxes on it for a period of 20 years. I had to dig through a lot of old papers, but I found the letter written by Rupert and witnessed by Ms. Dolly and her cook that said "I, Rupert Johnson leave all my worldly possessions to Joseph, the son of Sandra Welsh. He has been a joy to me in my later years and a faithful son, even if he is not of my blood."

The sheriff testified that this was all true. Less than 3 months later I was a land owner.

I still worked for Ms. Dolly at the restaurant, I was now her assistant. I could cook, serve and order the needed supplies. She was teaching me how to keep track of the money coming in and going out. She was getting too old to run the place on her own. The staff was like family and accepted her wishes.

Melody still worked for Children's Services, she was the assistant supervisor. She could have been a supervisor somewhere else; she turned down all the offers. 

We had a special area in the office at the restaurant where our children played and learned their lessons. They all did simple math and read by the time they went to school. Ms. Dolly was their unofficial grandmother and loved being in their lives. She was their real God Mother, all the people who worked for us were aunts or uncles. What a joy to be part of a large family like this.

We had eight children in total, in birth order we had: Rupert, Matthew, Mark, Sally, Luke, Mary, John and little Dolly. Neither Melody nor I were interested in having a child named after us. We are trying to have at least one more; the joy is still there each time we try.

Ms. Dolly lived to be 93 years old; she is buried next to my Momma in the little plot behind the house as she requested. We put a Lilac bush above her grave and the children all put daffodils on all the graves to bloom in the spring. 

The children all know the stories of my life and are able to repeat them correctly.

I inherited all of Ms. Dolly's belongings when she died. The biggest surprise was the letter presented to me that she wrote when she was 70. Like Rupert said I was "...the biggest joy in her life." She loved me as only a mother can, and it showed in her every action with me. She had been married early in life, only to find out that she could never have children. Her husband took to the bottle and drowned trying to swim across a lake to get to another woman that he was carrying on with. She allowed the other woman to bury him. The sheriff was his son.

Melody, the children and I still take care of the gardens as Rupert showed me to do. Eventually a hurricane dropped the old shack to the ground. Melody cried when it fell, I couldn't let her see me do that. I went for a run in the woods, just a little slower than when I was a child.




Fertile Fields



XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There should be a row of "X"s to divide the comments from the story, sometimes it disappears.

I went to bed one evening after listening to the song Rubin James sung by Kenny Rogers. I awoke with the outline to this story in my head. I will not bother you with the writer's names as there is no direct connection to the song other than a young white boy being cared for by an older Black man after the boy's mother dies. The line about his funeral being attended by "...the preacher, me and the rain" was the biggest encouragement to try to do justice by the story.

The story speaks of many different aspects of loving others. I choose to put it in Romance because of the love between Joseph and Melody at the end. I do not believe it was appropriate to the Non Erotic category because I consider true love to be erotic on it's own.

Vote early, Vote often. Be kind with the remarks as I reserve the right to persecute those who are obnoxious.

I hope you enjoyed it, or not.

PTBzzzz



Fertile Imagination



By the time I reached the age of eighteen I was a randy sod, my virginity was three years gone by that time, lost willingly to the woman who had looked after me while my mother was in hospital. She had been as eager to teach me about sex as I had been to be taught. 

Like most kids I had gone through a stage around that time where I had fancied my mother and what wasn't there to fancy about her, to start with she was only fifteen years older than me, though she always looked a hell of a lot younger. She was more attractive than most women I had seen and she was fun to be around, but nothing came of my crush at the time. Since that first experience I had been with a number of girls, the latest of which had busted up with me on that eventful evening.

In a huff I returned home, it had pissed me off that Donna had waited until I met her to tell me that she didn't want to see me any more, had she told me over the phone I could have found another girl for the night. Closing the front door I slouched my way into the living room and flopped onto the couch beside my mother.

"You're home early." she commented.

"Donna and I have busted up," I admitted, "she waited until I got there to tell me."

"Poor Roger," she smiled, "we women are such unreasonable creatures."

Mentally agreeing with her I picked up the day's paper and turned to the TV pages, it took all of thirty seconds to learn that there was nothing on worth watching. Sighing I tossed the paper aside and stared at the walls.

"Do something useful," mum said, "pour us both a drink."

A drink sounded like a good idea so I got up and did as asked, to save myself hopping up and down I filled the glasses to the brim, scotch for me, vodka for my mother both of which we were in the habit of drinking neat. Giving mum her drink I sat down and sipped mine, it did nothing to relieve the boredom and frustration I felt and I soon started to fidget in my seat. After a while mum put the book she was reading down, her glass was already half empty and she almost drained it with her next swallow. Out of curiosity I glanced at the cover of the book she had put down, when I saw the half naked woman on the cover being pursued by a big black man I grinned.

"Racy is it?" I asked cheekily.

"Pardon?" mum replied.

"The book." I said pointing at it.

"Oh, no," she replied, "there's more excitement on a Cornflake packet, rather disappointing really."

She drained her glass and got up to pour herself another, my glass was still half full, nevertheless she topped it up before sitting back down beside me. We sat in silence drinking our drinks, mum was not a great drinker, alcohol went to her head rather quickly so I had been surprised when she had poured herself another large glassful of vodka, but I really didn't think much of it at the time. Looking around the room I tried to think of something to do, but I was still too frustrated to really come up with anything.

"Let's play a game." Mum laughed a while later.

I really didn't fancy the idea of playing one of our board games, but it sounded better than sitting there going out of my skull with boredom.

"Like what?" I asked her.

"How about imagination," she laughed, "we imagine out loud what we would like to be doing right now."

"Doesn't need much imagination," I sighed, "right now I'd like to be having sex with a beautiful woman."

That was one thing I really liked about our relationship, we could talk openly and frankly with each other.

"Sounds like fun," mum grinned in response, "but how would you do it, you on top? Her on top? Doggy fashion? You have to imagine all the details. Here, I'll start."

It sounded like a good way to make myself even more frustrated, but I held my tongue, turned a little to face her and waited for her to start talking.

"Right now," mum sighed, "I'd like some hunk of a man to undress me roughly, he'd tear my blouse off, pull my trousers off, tear the bra and panties off my body then squeeze my tits till I screamed. Then he'd drag me upstairs and tie me to the bed so tightly that I couldn't move a muscle."

She paused to take a sip of her drink while I tried to picture the scene she was describing, not surprisingly my cock started to spring to life as I imagined doing the things my mother was talking about.

"Next," mum continued, "he'd play with my helpless body until I was screaming for him to fuck me, begging him to take me, only then would he cover me with his body and fuck me until I begged for mercy."

She grinned at me when she finished talking and I knew that it was my turn to dream up something wild, with a laugh I thought of something really hot.

"I'd find a beautiful older woman," I grinned getting excited at my own thoughts, "first I'd order her to strip for me, then I'd have her make herself cum. While she was stilling shaking in orgasm I'd tie her hands behind her back then order her to bring herself off again. After that I'd blindfold her and have her stand in the centre of the room while I played with her body, I'd use a vibrator or a carrot or a banana in her pussy, maybe all three one after the other until she was so excited that she couldn't stand. Then I'd bend her over a chair and spank her until her bum glowed, at the same time I'd be fingering her pussy so that she was climaxing when I finished the spanking."

I paused for a sip of my drink and to calm my breathing a little.

"Go on, go on." Mum breathed.

"Then" I continued, "I'd have her suck my cock until I filled her mouth with my jism and then she would suck me until I was hard again. When she made me hard I would bend her over until her shoulders were on the carpet and fuck her pussy from behind."

"God" mum sighed as I finished, "you've got a fertile imagination. You've made me all wet and horny."

"We'll have to do something about that." I said without thinking.

"Just imagine," mum sighed, "what it would be like if I was that woman."

"Well you are older than me and you are beautiful." I laughed at her then added jokingly, "So strip woman."

My jaw dropped when mum jumped off the couch and began to take off her clothes seductively. By the time she was naked I had regained my composure somewhat and took a moment to gaze at her ripe body while my cock grew even harder.

"Make yourself cum." I breathed.

This time my jaw didn't quite drop when my mother obeyed my command, with growing excitement I watched her hands as they caressed and squeezed her large tits. I watched her fingers as they teased and tugged her large nipples and then I watched her slide her hands down to her pussy. With one hand she held her pussy lips apart while she used the other to tease her clit then probe her pussy. As her fingers began moving in her pussy I reached up and opened the buttons of my shirt, quickly I threw it aside before standing up to take off the rest of my clothes. A few moments later my mother gave a gasp, threw back her head and shuddered into an orgasm, as her orgasm faded mum opened her eyes and smiled, then her eyes widened with surprise and desire as she saw my naked body. 

From the couch beside me I took the fabric belt she had been wearing in her skirt, standing I approached her, turned her around, pulled one of her hands behind her back and tied the belt to her wrist. Taking her other arm I pulled it behind her and looped the material tightly around her wrist, crossing her wrists I wrapped the belt around them then tied it off before turning her to face me.

"Make yourself cum." I commanded as I sat back on the couch.

The contortions she had to go through to obey the command were a real turn on, rubbing her tits against the carpet my mother twisted and turned until she at last managed to get to her pussy with her hands. I wasn't the only one turned on by the situation for my mother was having an orgasm within a few minutes, as she lay shuddering I went out to the hall and grabbed one of her scarves folding it over and over to form a blindfold. Quickly I helped my mother to her feet and tied the scarf over her eyes, blind and helpless she stood in the middle of the room trembling while I snuck out of the room to the kitchen. In the fridge I found the largest carrot I could, with this and a banana I went up to my mother's bedroom and grabbed her giant sized vibrator and with these in my hands I returned to the living room. 

For a while I stood and looked at my mother in her helplessness, then I put the objects on the floor near her and reached out to play with her nipples. As my fingers closed around her nipples my mother jumped then gasped as I squeezed her hard buds, releasing one of her nipples I slid my hand down to her pussy. As my fingers slid into her oozing hole I leant forward to take the free nipple into my mouth, nipping it with my teeth before sucking on it.

"God!" mum breathed as I played with her body.

After a few minutes she gave a shudder, releasing her I bent down and grabbed the banana. Mum stood with her legs apart waiting for what was to come next, placing the banana at her pussy I pushed it in with one long thrust. With a cry my mother thrust down onto the intruding object, quickly I began to fuck her with the banana only removing it when she climaxed. Tossing the banana to one side I grabbed the carrot, it was long and fat and I quickly pushed it into her pussy, stretching her lips apart as it slid into her.

"Jesus!" Mum cried shuddering, "Oh God that feels good!"

Her cries got louder as I fucked her to yet another orgasm with the carrot, but her cries became screams when I replaced the carrot with the huge vibrator I had found in her room. When I turned it on she shook into an orgasm that turned her legs to jelly, as she sank to the floor I sank with her, my hand continued moving the vibrator in her pussy as I once again sucked her nipple. Mercilessly I fucked her with the buzzing plastic rod enjoying the sounds of her pleasure echoing around the room. Reluctantly I removed the vibrator and pulled my mother to her feet, guided her trembling body to an armchair and sprawled her over the arms with her bum fully exposed to my gaze. Raising a hand I brought it down on one of her cheeks with a crack that filled the room, mum screamed and jerked away from my hand, but as I slid two fingers into her pussy she sighed. A few moments later I hit her on the other cheek and again she screamed and jerked; as she moved forward I pushed my fingers deep into her pussy so that as she raised her lower body again my fingers were pushed even deeper and my fist crushed her pussy lips. For five minutes I spanked her, with each blow my mother would cry out and jerk away from the pain, but my fingers in her pussy kept on exciting her and before long her body was shaking in a strong climax.

Pulling her to her unsteady feet I sat in the armchair and spread my knees apart, tugging my mother round in front of me I pushed her to her knees and pulled her head down to my cock. As she felt my cock push against her lips my mother opened her mouth and took it to the hilt, gagging as it's length dug into her throat. Moving my hands to her tits I let my mother suck my cock at her own speed, the feel of her lips sliding on my skin as she moved and the feel of her tongue pressing and rubbing on the underside of my shaft quickly drove me towards a climax. When I felt the heat surge up my cock I pulled my mother tight to me, my seed exploded into her mouth in a spray of hot stickiness that she gulped and swallowed as fast as it flowed. Then she was moving on me again and to my joy my cock stayed rigid, I savoured the feel of her mouth on me for a little while then raised her head from my lap. 

Quickly I pushed and pulled her about until her shoulders were pressed into the carpet while her pussy hung exposed to my attentions in mid air. The sight of her pussy drew me down to her, with relish I licked her slit from end to end before thrusting my tongue into her hole to lap at her juices; at the same time I used my fingers to excite her clit. My mother cried out as I licked her to another orgasm, her pussy pushing back onto my tongue as her body shook. Licking my lips I sat back on my heels and looked at my mother's straining body, with a grin of anticipation I positioned my cock at her pussy then pushed it in with a hard thrust that sent my mother wild. Her pussy clenched around my prick as I began to fuck her with long, heavy strokes, she tried to match my movements, but the shaking of her body made this impossible. With her cries echoing out around the house I reached around her body to tease her clit with one hand and tease her nipples with the other. 

An age of blissful sensations passed, gradually my strokes became faster and even harder, my mother's cries rose to shrieks then sank to whimpers as I took her without remorse. Then I felt the heat rise in my cock again and with a last cruel thrust I buried my cock deep in her pussy, a heartbeat later my seed exploded inside her. My mother screamed and tried to collapse, but my cock and my hands held her firmly in place. Pausing for a moment with my cock buried to the hilt I savoured the ecstatic sensations I was feeling, then I began to thrust again. Mother's body began to shake continually and had it not been for my cock and hands she would have been sprawled on the floor. To my joy my cock, which had started to grow flaccid, grew hard and once again I fucked my mother until I felt the blissful release of my orgasm.

My lust at last sated I pulled my slowly shrinking cock from her pussy and lowered my mother's limp body to the floor, there she lay jerking and sobbing as her body slowly calmed down. I removed the blindfold then released her wrists; sitting back I watched her recover, my juices slowly oozing from her pussy in a white stream of stickiness. Going out to the kitchen I grabbed a towel, on my way back to the living room I used the towel on my cock then I used it on mum's pussy and she exploded in another orgasm. Once her pussy was cleaned I sat back on the couch and waited for her to recover, it took a while, but eventually she sat up shakily and looked at me.

"Why the hell did Donna break up with you," she gasped breathlessly, "you are the best fuck I have had in my life."

"She reckoned I was too much for her to handle." I grinned down at my mother.

"She must be mad." Mum said as she crawled onto the couch beside me, "Anyway, I'm not going to apologise for what happened, just don't tell anyone about it."

"I won't." I grinned then added, "Perhaps we could have some more fun in a little while."

"God my aching cunt!" she gasped, "I'll be ready when you are."

Whatever the reason had been for my mother letting me fuck her that first time remains a mystery to me to this day, but from that point on I never needed another girlfriend. My mother was all woman and it didn't matter how exhausted she was, if I wanted to fuck her she would agree, not only that but she loved to experiment and the things we got up to covered everything from anal to water-sports. All it needed was a little imagination.



Fertile Soil



Elizabeth Chambers smiled as she gripped the wheel tightly of the John Deere tractor she controlled, made the wide swing, and then with fluid motion that only came from years of farm life, dropped the disc harrow and began to churn up the fertile soil. As the tractors eight tires dug into the dirt and its motor labored from the harrow it was dragging, she looked to either side. For acres the freshly upturned soil stretched as far as the eye could see. That is except for one narrow strip of virgin soil that her tractor now straddled. As the harrow began to pulverize this last remaining strip, Liz watched as her machine and implement began to kick up dust and send it blowing gently across the flat ground that was her home.

If a small pebble had not lodged inside her shoe, her mind might have drifted into deep thought as it often did when spending the day inside a tractor. To make matters worse, it was her right foot and the once she used to push the clutch on the tractor. Grimacing one last time as she upshifted her tractor, Liz set about to remedying the situation.

As the tractor chugged across the field, she withdrew her leg up into her lap and pulled off her shoe. For comfort she liked those white canvas sneakers that did not need to be unlaced in order to be removed and tipped it upside down hoping to see a small rock fall out. Other than a little dust she did not see anything, so after making a small steering correction to make sure her tractor was still aligned with the last remaining strip of untilled ground, she pulled off her sock as well. Shaking it, she watched as the tiniest of pebbles fell to the rubberized floor of the tractor. With a smile, she turned her attention to her other shoe and did the same thing, if only to ensure that her shoes were rock-free.

By that time she was nearing the end of the field so she kicked the shoes and socks into the corner of the cab not bothering to put them back on. Perhaps fifty years before operating a tractor barefoot would have been unheard of, but with the tractors now coming equipped with comfort cabs, Liz did not give it another thought. As she looked over her shoulder she also pulled a lever and watched as the wings of the disc harrow began to fold up while the wheels began to press down and lift the harrow discs out of the soil in preparation of transport.

As she pressed her bare foot into the clutch pedal, the serrated pad that was designed to keep a farmers foot from slipping off the pedal, pressed harshly into her foot, but hardly pain she could not endure. She only had a few shifts to make in any case as she got the tractor headed down the county road and towards her home. As the wind began to blow through the open cab door, Liz had time to look down at her clothes and smile.

Once a month, her best friend and her took a much needed break from farm life and headed into Yorkton, Saskatchewan, a town over three hours away. Liz smiled because she knew clothing would be nothing like the white canvas sneakers, white slouch socks and denim overalls she now wore. In fact she was quite sure it would be in dark contrast to these clothes. She smiled so wantonly because it had started out so innocently, with each one of them picking out each others clothes. The rules were simple; no matter what was chosen, the clothing choice had to be worn. With each subsequent trip into town, the clothes had grown more daring and Liz could only imagine what lay in wait.

As Liz pulled the tractor into the driveway and let the giant rumble of the engine come to a stop near their pole barn, she watched her husband toiling away on the broken down planter. Scooping her shoes and socks up off the cab floor, she strolled by stopping only long enough for a quick peck on the cheek.

"The west field is disked, but it's pretty wet on the north side still."

"Yeah it must be, so wet you had to take your shoes and socks off to wade through it huh? Why don't you take the rest of those clothes off and I'll show you what else needs to be plowed Honey," he joked.

"I would, but I am already late," she said knowing he loved it when she went barefoot around the farm. "I am supposed to meet Amanda at her house in half an hour."

"Well you two have fun," he said looking down at his wife's bare feet even as she walked away from him. Turning his attention back from his beautiful wife, he placed his wrench upon the bolt and began to break it loose.

Knowing her husband's attention would be fully on the broken down planter, Liz made a detour around the house and grabbed the brown paper bag full of clothes that Amanda had left inside her car's trunk sometime during the day. Not wanting the prying eyes of their husband's to see what they really wore; it was where they two of them agreed to place their clothing choices.

Now Liz could not resist the urge to sneak a peek at what lay in wait for her. Opening up the bag quickly, she peered inside. Nearly horrified, she quickly shut the bag and rushed into the house so her husband would not detect their secret hiding spot. Grabbing the phone out of the kitchen, she took two stairs at a time reaching the second story bathroom, turning a crimson red as she did so.

"I can't wear that," Liz sputtered as soon as she heard her best friend on the other end of the phone line.

"Liz simmer down, it's just a little black dress."

"It's not the damn dress Amanda that I have a problem with. It's not evening those stupid high heels that I pretty near broke my neck wearing last time. It's those stockings. I mean yeah I complained last time about wearing those garter stockings, but I wore them. This is different. Do you know what a fishnet stocking means? It's a calling card of a prostitute. I can't go out to a club wearing those Amanda."

"Liz, you know the rules. We each wear what the other person picks out. That's what makes it fun. You'll have a blast once you get over your little stage fright."

"Amanda I am not wearing them."

"Sorry Liz, see you in a few and you better be wearing those fishnet stockings."

"Or what," Liz said, but she was already hearing the dial tone as she said it. Reluctantly, Liz striped off her remaining clothes and began to get ready for her night out with Amanda. Her mind was a blur as she went through the routine of taking a shower, putting on her make-up and putting on the clothes Amanda had picked out. Of course before she emerged from the bathroom, she had pulled a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt over her rather revealing outfit, and simply gave her husband a wave as she slid into her car and headed for Amanda's house.

Amanda was waiting on the porch swing when Liz pulled into the driveway, and it was her own curiosity that made her walk a bit faster down the walk and clamber into her friends' car.

"Are you wearing them," was the first thing she asked?

"Amanda, its kind of fun to put on something besides denim and sneakers for a change, but I can't wear fishnet out in public. Do you know what people are going to think?"

"You shouldn't care. I picked them out and you should wear them for that reason alone. Besides you said the same thing about those high heels I bought for you last time, and you got used to them."

"Amanda..."

"Liz you better be wearing them," she said and reached over to pull her friend's sweat pants up just enough so she could see if she was wearing them.

"Yes, I am wearing them; now leave my legs alone I am trying to drive here."

For the next few hours Liz and Amanda kept their real clothes hidden by their drabby sweat suits until they were sure they were far enough away from their small farming town and was sure no one would recognize them. Changing inside their hotel room, Liz looked at the mirror at herself and a half-smirk began to creep across her face.

"You like it don't you," Amanda said as she watched her friend admire herself in the looking glass? Liz smiled a bit more and nodded at her friend who only swooned at the fact that the young woman was beginning to emerge from her shell. With a wanton smile, Liz looked at her friend.

"Shall we go drive the men crazy?" Ten minutes later Liz found herself seated at the bar, a glass of brandy in her hand and wearing a thigh-length black dress, a size too tight and nearly backless. The front only contained a smattering more of material, for the dress had a single strap that wrapped about her neck, plunging into a deep vee to just cover her braless breasts before flowing down to her stomachs and thigh. There the dress abruptly stopped, leaving an inch of exposed pale flesh between the hemline of her dress and the tops of her black garter stockings. Now crossing one leg over the other, Liz's movement only pulled the two materials father apart; a feat that did not go unnoticed by the man next to her. Neither did her dangling shoe that came about more from nervousness then it did from seduction.

Off on the dance floor, Amanda was seducing men on her own accord. An avid fan of dancing, she was content to let Liz entice men by her own methods as she worked picked, danced and ground her way through a number of songs with a new man with each song.

"I'll get that," the man quickly offered when Liz accidentally toed her shoe out of balance and felt the black high heel slip from her foot. Leaving a coveted seat at the bar, Liz watched as the man gently picked it up the floor and was about to place it back on her foot when he spoke again. "Still, it's almost a shame to put it back on."

"Then take the other one off," she said, feeling the full power of her feminine beauty. With a grin, the man watched as Liz re-crossed her legs, toying with the man as she made a show of it, splaying her legs a bit and letting him get a quick glimpse at her sex as her legs were switched. "Is that better," she asked even as the man gripped her small ankle and began to slip the jet black shoe from off her foot?

Liz almost laughed when the man could only mumble some inaudiable sound at his good fortune. Her shoe had been off for a minute or more and yet his hand still remained on her foot, rubbing the rough textured diamonds of her fishnets slowly over her skin. Spinning around in the swivel bar stool, Liz's actions gently pulled her foot out of his hands so that she could order another drink. As she did, her fullest seductive power was displayed.

"Put that on my tab," the man said as he leaned against the bar now that his previous seat had been taken by someone else.

As the night wore on, deep inside, Liz felt a complete sense of vindication. As she danced, teased and toyed with this man and a few others, she watched their stares, felt their hands upon her legs and felt them bump and grind into her. Dressed as she was, they could not take their eyes off of her, and yet at the equipment dealer, dressed in her usual farmer fare, she would not have gotten a second look.

Liz knew Amanda felt like-wise. She had watched her throughout the night, dancing with several men and watched their reactions; brushing up against her whenever possible and letting lingering gazes take in all of her friends equally fine form. 

In some ways Liz could not blame them, the clothing he had chosen for Amanda to wear, though not quite as riske as that of what she was wearing, still revealed more flesh then the lingerie she wore on her wedding night. A combination of black and white, it fit Amanda's personality of angel/devil perfectly. Now the bright white blouse glowed in the strange light of the club with Amanda keeping it unbuttoned one more button then she probably should have. In keeping with the tradition of choosing clothes one size to tight, Amanda's blouse clung tightly to her chest and stomach before it was tucked deeply into a black and white polka dotted skirt. This skirt Liz had hemmed up an additional inch just to intensify things and reveal more of Amanda's own sassy legs. Like her blouse, the white nylons also shimmered in the strange light of the club, more so now as Amanda stretched them out onto the foot rail of the clubs bar. Toying with the shiny brass rail with her nylon toes, Amanda looked down at her shoeless feet, unsure of just where her high heels were or who had them.

Now it was mid-night and the two of them had caught to one another at the bar. With yet another drink inside of them, they discussed the night's sordid adventure.

"You don't seem to be too self-conscientious about your fishnet stockings," Amanda said with a grin?

"And you don't seem too concerned about you wedding vows either. I saw you over in the corner making out with that man. I was about to remind you that you are a married woman."

"You didn't have to remind me. He was a much better kisser than Francis!"

"Amanda!"

"You can't tell me you haven't kissed any guy here?"

"No I didn't, but I had one guy pretty near touch my sex he had his hand so far up my dress. Hell he even propositioned me. Three hundred bucks to go back to our hotel room."

"And you did not take him up on it?"

"I'm married remember?"

"Well sometime you're going to have to see what it's like to be with someone besides Scott."

"I have, it just happens to be with another woman."

"So what are you saying Liz, you're ready to stop toying with these men and have some fun ourselves?"

"More than ready," Liz said as she looked up into her best friends eyes. As her friend's lust reflected back at her, Liz grinned. "More than ready for our monthly adventure."



Fertile White Belly



Glory loves black cock. Married to her husband Danny for eleven years. They met straight out of college. Plans to start a family were held back until Danny finally got the position he wanted at his job. He's making good money now and his wife was ready to start a family. That's until Danny found out he couldn't conceive a child. After longs talks about adoption they finally forgot about having children after a couple years.

Danny's boss was invited to dinner one evening. Mr. Blackwell is a middle aged black man. Danny was kind of turned on when he noticed his boss flirting with his wife. Danny invited his boss over for dinner a few more times watching his wife get cozier with his boss each time he came over. 

Finally, Danny confronted Glory about the way she was coming on to his bosses advances and ask her if she was turned on by this black man. She finally confessed to her husband that she always wondered what it would feel like having a big black cock inside her pussy. Danny and Glory fantasized about her fucking his black boss for the next several months. Danny even went out and bought a big black fake cock for his wife to play with.

Glory decided to take it one step further when the boss was invited for dinner once again. As they sat of the sofa, the boss started resting his hand on Gloria's thigh. A few minutes later and they were locked in a heated passionate kiss when Danny went out into the kitchen to mix new drinks.

Glory winked at Danny when he returned and he knew that Glory wanted to fuck his boss. Danny being a gentleman pretended he was going to check on something in the garage as his wife continued to seduce his boss on the living room sofa. When Danny returned he found the sofa empty. He slowly walked up the steps to the second floor to find his lovely wife embraced in a hot passionate kiss while seated on the edge of their bed.

Her blouse was loose and she was unbuttoning his bosses shirt. Danny's cock got hard as he watched the scene. Danny paced the hallway for a couple minutes and peeked back into the room only to see his boss sucking on one of Gloria's hard nipples. Her head was tilted back and she held her hand on his bosses head as a moan of passion escaped her lips. 

Danny could hardly take in what he saw and turned away from the room again. He poked his hand inside his pants looking down at the floor almost afraid to look back inside their bedroom. When he did he got the shock of his life. Glory was down on her knees wearing just her heels, garter belt and stockings sucking on his bosses black cock. Danny's eyes widened when he saw how long and thick his bosses cock was. Glory was sucking him like a whore in heat cupping those huge massive black balls in her dainty little hands as she devoured that long black stick.

Danny stroked his cock trying to imagine what it must have felt like getting his cock sucked by a married white woman. Danny watched the action and turned away again to stroke his meat so they wouldn't hear him in the hallway. Danny didn't want to cum yet so he stopped playing with himself and poked his head around the corner of the doorway again.

Glory was on the bed now getting her pussy licked by his boss. Her legs up high in the air as his boss tickled her clit with his tongue. Danny could see that massive black cock throbbing below waiting for the moment it would find it's way between Gloria's pink married pussy lips.

Danny's cock was pressed against the material of his pants as he listened to his wife's groans. His boss took his time to get her worked up and started moving upward until his cock was positioned between Gloria's thighs. Danny watched as his boss held Gloria's legs back and slipped his thick cock head between the crack of her wet pussy lips. He watched as his boss teased her a few times before inserting his cock between her pussy causing Glory's body to tense up from the pressure of having such a huge object stuck inside her pussy. 

Danny kept watching as his boss continued to slice deeper inside her pussy until he couldn't go any further inside. That giant ball sack was resting on the cheeks of her ass while he waited for Gloria to get accustomed to his size. He than started to withdrawal than lunged back inside making those large black balls slap against her married white ass.

Danny watched as his wife held onto her black lover digging her long nails into his bosses bare back. She was screaming with passion as his boss picked up the speed. A few minutes later Danny heard Gloria scream out her first orgasm as his boss covered her mouth with his thick black lips. They remained locked in that heated kiss until Gloria had another orgasm. This time his boss came too sending his thick white hot potent sperm deep inside his wife's fertile belly.

Danny watched as they lay there kissing with that huge black cock plugging up her pussy keeping all that potent sperm locked inside her belly. Her legs were still pushed back as his boss continued kissing his lovely blonde wife. His boss remained hard as rock as he flipped Gloria over on top of him. She started to ride his cock while trails of hot cum leaked out around his bosses massive pole. 

Gloria leaned down and locked lips with his boss as she rode his cock. It was a site to see as Danny stroked his much smaller cock until he came splashing his cum against the hallway wall. He peeked back inside the bedroom and saw that his boss begin to cum again. He watched as his boss held onto Gloria's white ass as he sent another hot milky load of sperm deep inside her belly.

Gloria sat on his boss kissing his face before finally climbing off. Danny decided he better head down stairs and waited for his wife and boss to come back down. Danny waited almost twenty minutes when his boss walked back into the room saying. "You have a really nice place here. Your wife was just showing me around."

Did he expect Danny to buy into that one? Well. For whatever reason his boss tried to brush off what just happened. Danny felt his boss was just trying to be polite. Gloria walked down the stairs a few minutes later. She was dressed and had combed her hair and reapplied her lipstick. She walked over and sat down next to Danny's boss smiling at him as she took hold of his hand.

"Danny? Would you please get us a new drink? I think Mr. Blackwell finished the last one."

Danny confronted Gloria after his boss left and she confessed that she lead Mr. Blackwell up to their room. Danny wanted to fuck but Gloria was too sore. Danny got hard again when Gloria came to bed still smelling like she just got fucked. She did give him a blow job swallowing his hot cum before they fell asleep that night.

It wasn't until four weeks later that Gloria found out she was pregnant. They invited Mr. Blackwell over for dinner and told him that she might be pregnant with his child. He promised Danny that he'd take care of everything if the baby was born mixed. College fund was started the following week. Gloria gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Yes. He looked like his father, Mr. Blackwell and already had a fairly size dick for a little guy.



Fertile



"Nurse, its ok I'm finished." 

She slowly opens the door and takes the cup from me. The nurse holds the cup up to her eye, rating the amount semen in the cup. She looks back at me then at the cup and leaves. The doctor enters the room and sits in the stool across from me. 

"The results from your test conclude that you have a disease known as Azoospermia. Lets start with any questions you have."

"How did I get it?"

"Genetics. You were born with it." The doctor spins back and forth in his stool. Born with it, born with Azoospermia. I am not to sure how my father could pass infertility onto his son, having somehow gotten the disease from his father. 

"What can I do?"

"You and your wife could adopt if you wanted to have kids." We had not yet considered adoption. Saving a child from a ruthless life, picking him off the streets and bringing him into an American home. Then my wife and I would be equal, our son would not belong to either of us. She would still not be a mother and I not a father. 

I enter the empty house through the front door and go to my room. I flick on a small lamp light to shed a small pool of light into the room, leaving the corners of the room in darkness. How do I increase sperm count? There is an episode of Seinfeld where they deal with this topic. Boxer Briefs, that is the problem; I am not getting enough air down there. I rush over to the closet and go into my underwear drawer. Under six pairs of boxers is my only pair of briefs. I pick them up and put them in the light of the lamp. This brief has caused all of my strife and is keeping me from having a son. Heading to the kitchen, I reach for our silverware drawer and pull out a Bic Lighter. Lighting the briefs on fire, they only singe; the polyester starts to melt, but does not catch on fire. I try to tear the elastic, the band snaps. Holding the lighter closer to the briefs I let the flame soak into the fabric, a drip of liquid polyester falls onto my hand and solidifies. I put my hand under cold water blisters and white puss forms under the singed skin. 

Cold, briefs keep sperm to warm to reproduce; I need to cool down to create sperm. Heading back into my room; I look in the closet for our summer fan. Setting the fan on high I angle the air down towards my crotch. Dropping my pants I put my naked legs into the air and let fan blow towards me. 

I hear Lynn come in and start heading for our room. She enters and walks towards the bed.

"What are you doing?" 

"I'm hot." I put my legs down, letting them hang over the bed. Lynn goes into the closet and closes the door behind her.

"I am going to get dinner ready." I say

"Don't bother." She opens the door in a sleek black dress. "I'm going out."

"Where?"

"Out." She leaves her room and heads towards our bathroom. I follow behind her and sit down on the toilet. Lynn gets out a box of make-up and starts to put on red lipstick. 

"You look beautiful." I say. She doesn't reply. "I love you."

"Yeah." She leaves the bathroom. "Look I'll be back late. You good for dinner?" She walks out the door before I can answer. 

Heading back to the room, I turn the fan up, get undressed, and lay naked on top of the covers. 

The absence of Lynn wakes me before the morning. Her spot is cold and empty. Water for coffee starts to run, I unplug the machine and leave Lynn's room. I put my brown boots on and tie them tightly. From down the hall I hear gasps for air. One of our empty room's door is cracked open. Lynn is curled up with a Winnie the Pooh stuffed bear in her hands. We got the bear for our daughter. Her arms wrapped around the bear with her head pressed down into it.

"Lynn?" I sit on the bed next to her and put my hand on her back. She lifts her head, her eyes saturated with red veins.

"I just want to be a mom."

"I know."

"All I want is a little girl. A baby, for us."

"I know." I put my arms around her and my legs beside her legs. Slowly we rock on the pink bed. Lynn removes my hands from around her and takes the bear away as she walks to the window in the room. 

"I can't do this anymore."

"This?" I ask.

"Us. I can't do us."

Leaving my wife and enter into my son's room. A small rocking horse stands against the room; a shelf is mounted holding a bat and glove. Lynn and I decided to call him John, after Lynn's Grandfather. John would love baseball and play like I did. He wouldn't go pro, but instead become and engineer. My son. I can not be father but Lynn can be a mother. Girls are considered so delicate, something to cherish; men are rough and supposed to be strong. I have nothing to draw my strength from; I am empty, like the rooms and this house.

My keys hang up on the key ring heading out our front door, taking my car key off the ring I set the other back onto the rack. Lynn will get the house and our children's things; in compensation I will get a car, the sterile pheasant, and a coffeemaker. Walking around to the front of the house, I can see into the glass windows, peering through the window into Lynn's house as strangers do.

In the window I picture a small boy running down the hall and into the living room. The child sits under a Christmas tree and holds a box with red ribbon close to his body. I see Lynn and I sitting on the sofa, sipping coffee from our warm mugs. Our child brings the box back to our feet. The man on the sofa is not me, he is taller and stronger; he looks more masculine then I ever could. And the boy isn't mine. He belongs to Lynn, and the stranger. The boy will never belong to me; he will never be ours. I can go where ever I want now; only one part of this life will haunt me. The boy in my dreams will never be mine.