Storiesonline.net ------- Receptionist Blues by Prince von Vlox Copyright© 2008 by Prince von Vlox ------- Description: Ronni, the receptionist at Hubbard & Assoc. wants to start a family. For a number of reasons that isn't too likely with her husband. So she turns to the men at Hubbard for help. Codes: MF cons het group orgy exhib oral preg creampie ------- Ronni Dunlap swung her purse over her shoulder and stepped gingerly over the mud puddle at the curb. Typical of the bus driver, she thought, he always stopped short of the curb, making everybody stretch to get off. It was either that, or you had to step down into the oily water, and then back up on the curb, which didn't do your shoes any good. The summer weather of the last few weeks was definitely a memory. She pulled her jacket a little tighter and hurried down the street, her irritation with the bus driver replaced by a general irritation with everything around her. Jackhammers assaulted her ears, people brushed past her with barely any acknowledgement, raindrops swirled around the corner, not quite hard enough that you had to use an umbrella, but enough to make you damp. She escaped into the quiet of the building's lobby with a sense of relief. The air in here was warm. The smell of coffee, tea and fresh cinnamon rolls from the lobby deli wafted over her, replacing the harsh oil stinks prevalent just a few feet away. She took a happy sniff. If she ever gave up her office job she'd want to work here, surrounded by all of the warm smells. She got her usual tea, yoghurt and bagel for breakfast, and headed for the gates to the elevators. The guards behind the desk smiled at her after she flashed her badge. "Morning Ms. Dunlap," one of them said with a smile. "Morning, Richard," she replied, just as she always did. The day was definitely brightening up. She got to her receptionist's desk, stowed her purse and jacket, replaced her 'sensible' shoes—Reeboks she'd bought on sale at Sears—with a pair of strappy mules she'd found on sale at Macy's, and donned her headset. She logged in, and saw there were already 10 voice mails. The company officially opened for business at 8:30. By 8:15 she had the e-mails answered and voicemail cleared out. She pulled a mirror out of her drawer and checked her make-up. The trouble with a blonde complexion was that her eyebrows didn't really show. She did a quick touch up with the blusher so people could see the apples of her cheeks. She pulled the rubber band off of her hair and tied everything back in a ponytail. She looked ... perky. That was probably all right for a blonde receptionist, though she wanted more. She electronically unlocked the door at 8:30, and pasted on a smile, ready for the day. She didn't have to wait long. Barely 30 seconds later the phones began to light up. "Hubbard and Associates, this is Ronni. How may I direct your call?" "Ms. Hubbard, please. I'm Gerald Sherman, she's expecting my call." "Thank you, Mr. Sherman. One moment please." She pressed the appropriate button. "Ms. Hubbard. I have a Mr. Gerald Sherman on Line 1." "Thank you, dear. Put him through." Ronni pushed the button. The door squeaked, and she looked up with her professional smile. "May I help you?" "Yes ma'am," the man said. "I'm here to see Brent Towcroft." "Will you have a seat, please? I'll let him know you're here." She sighed to herself. Another day was off to a start. Calls, e-mails, visitors, even a vendor for the IT staff. She greeted them all with a smile and the idea that she was really glad to see them. Her break couldn't come fast enough, and when 10:00 rolled around she happily gave way to Kirsten, her back-up. "Busy morning," Kirsten said, scanning the desk with a practiced eye. "I bet you're glad to get out of here for a few minutes." "I've barely had time to drink my tea," Ronni replied. She gestured at her bagel. "Goodness knows if I'll have time for that." "Maybe it'll slack off some," Kirsten said. "Okay, I've got it." She slipped on the headphone and slid into Ronni's seat. "See you in half an hour." Ronni picked up her bagel and used her keycard to go through to the main offices, or 'cubicle heaven' as some of the people called it. After the door clicked shut she took off her skirt and panties, hanging them on a hook by the door, then wound her way through the maze to the break room. Frank, the manager of Accounts Payable, was right behind her. She liked Frank; he had a cute tush, nice shoulders, and an agile tongue. "Just going on break?" she asked him. He nodded. "Things were running late today." When he glanced at the room next door and arched an eyebrow, she smiled in agreement. She began unbuttoning her blouse before she even got in there. One of the four cots was in use. She hung up her blouse, accepted Frank's help with her bra, and settled back with a sigh. They had half an hour, which should be plenty of time. Frank's tongue went right to her breasts, kissing and teasing them, before trailing a wet, sinuous path down to her bush. She'd been thinning it out; she still didn't quite have the nerve to shave it all off because her husband might say something. Frank teased the curls, and then flicked lightly across the hood of her clit. "Yes," she hissed at the intimate touch. While he teased her she helped him with his polo shirt, finally running her fingers over his shoulders. Until a few months before, the men had gone shirtless, but wore pants. Now they dressed like the women: a shirt or top, and bare from the waist down. Guys were a bit harrier, but it saved time at lunch and during breaks. She wanted more than just a good licking, and she began to urge Frank. The trouble was, he was good with his tongue, and when he used it to probe her hole she shuddered and clutched her breasts. He curled it, somehow, and managed to swipe up her slit and engulf her clit, sending a wave of heat through her. Frank began to kiss back up her body, and she sighed happily when she tasted herself on his lips. She could feel his hardness against her thigh, and slid her hand down between them. It felt solid, firm, and full of promise. She spread her legs a little farther open and guided him to her entrance. Frank didn't need any more encouraging. The tip of his cock was big and blunt, and as he pushed, Ronni closed her eyes. She'd always thought of herself as small down there, and it amazed her that she could take a cock as big as Frank's. He stretched her open, and slid against the sensitive skin of her passage with a fiery caress. He kissed her repeatedly as he worked his cock into her. She was caught up in the whole feel of him sliding into her. It always felt like the guy was going to split her open. She could feel his length sliding and sliding, pushing deeper into her. Intellectually she knew it was only a few inches, but it felt like his cock was two feet long and trying to reach her throat from the other side. When she finally felt his balls against her bottom, she released her death grip on his shoulders. It was the same every time: her body was filled to the bursting point; he couldn't possibly get any more inside her; and then he began moving. It was like a fiery wave of pure sensation swept through her. She gasped her pleasure, and then began moving against him, trying to take even more, and take it deeper. He thrust ... she moved ... her whole body was a roaring bonfire that started in her middle and spread all through her. Every thrust, every touch, fed the fire. His chest hair scratched at her nipples, sending little jolts of pleasure down to her middle. She was swept up in it, the scent of Frank's sweat filling her senses, the electric feel of his skin against hers, and the fiery spear filling her middle, pushing her higher and higher. When she came, when he pushed her over the top and she lost control, everything vanished in wave after wave of pure feeling. She could feel him speed up, and then, as her passions swept over her once more, she felt the feathery touch of his come splashing deep inside her. They came down slowly, trading kisses and little thrusts. All of the morning's tensions were gone, washed away by the flood of pleasure. She drifted out to sea, folded into his arms, her body molded to his. Eventually they had to part. His cock, which had looked impressive, and felt even larger, looked red and withered. She gave it friendly kiss, gave Frank another kiss, and got up. Her skin was still on fire, and she hated dressing. It wasn't like the Corporate Retreat they'd gone on two months before; then she hadn't had to wear a stitch of clothing for nearly four days. Frank helped her with her clothes, his hands lingering on her breasts as he 'adjusted' them to fit in her cups. Finally, though, she had to take a quick potty stop, heat her bagel, and race back to her desk. She was pulling on her panties when one of the women who worked in the area walked past. "How can you bear to wear them? I know I can't." "When I wear a skirt I don't feel properly dressed without panties," Ronni said. Another woman, Francine, nodded. "I know what you mean. I've got a little girl of 3, and I have to wear panties around the house so she will." She chuckled. "It's sort of a 'do what I say, not what I do' thing." Ronni pulled on her skirt. "Don't think I wouldn't rather be back here," she said. "You guys look a lot more comfortable than I feel." Both women looked down self-consciously. Like every employee who wasn't in the public eye, they didn't wear anything below the waist. It was something that had started a few months before, along with sex during lunch and their breaks. Nobody was sure just how or why things were this way, but nobody wanted to give it up, either. Ronni gave them a wave, and returned to her desk. Kirsten gave her a grateful smile—she was on her way to her break—and slid out of the chair. Ronni hit the mute button for a moment, and gave Kirsten the unofficial mantra of the employees of Hubbard & Associates: "Forward ... to the next break!" By the time the day ended—and lunch had been a delight with a long session on the cot with a guy from Sales, and it was only matched by her afternoon break—she was beat. It wasn't the having sex with three different guys during the day, she looked at that as a bonus, it was the never-ending whining of the callers. Most of them, she thought, would have a better attitude of they got laid every day. When she got home she carefully reached in with her finger and hooked out her diaphragm. Her husband was in an amorous mood—though sometimes she thought it was a reflection of her mood—and he left her drifting happily in his arms. If only he wasn't sterile. She'd hid that doctor's report from him. She knew he wasn't exactly sterile. The doctor had told her that he did have a few active wigglers, just not as many as most men. Theoretically he could get her pregnant, it just wasn't very likely. And she did want a baby, she just wanted it to be his. It wasn't all his fault, though. Part of the problem, the doctor told her, was that her womb wasn't too accepting of any man's sperm. It was the fault of the birth control she'd borrowed from her older cousin back when she was 15. It had stopped her from getting pregnant at the time, but it had a near-permanent effect on her. The doctor said there was a 1 in 10 chance that any fertilized ovum could successfully implant. Slim odds, but she was willing to take the chance. She had a friend who'd gotten pregnant by having sex for five days before her ovulation date, and five days after. She smiled sleepily. She figured they were bound to get lucky sooner or later. The rest of the week was more of the same: whining callers and impatient visitors, broken only by her breaks and lunch, and the arms of her husband at night. After another period, she and a friend from Hubbard went out for a drink after work. "The question," Marci said, "is what are you willing to do to have a baby." "What do you mean?" The glass of wine had tasted good, and a second one had soon followed. "Does it have to be your husband's?" "I want it to be. It's ... you know, your in love, and..." "Let's do the math." Marci was in Accounting, and was always trying to reduce things to 'the math'. "The doctor said you'll actually ovulate about one time in ten. And maybe 1% of his sperm are actually good. So the odds of one of his active sperm meeting up with an egg when you do ovulate is a tenth of one percent. Pretty slim odds." "But a guy puts out several million little wigglers when he comes. That's still a lot of them, and it only takes one." "True. But how long have the two of you been trying for a baby?" "Three years. We make love on the days before and after I ovulate." "Yeah, but if what I've read in the literature is any guide, and I'm not a doctor, your odds of success still aren't very high. My husband and I tried for two years to have a baby before I finally conceived." "I thought you miscarried or something." Marci nodded. "A couple of times. Your body has to learn how to be pregnant, at least that's what I figure. But now we've got three kids." She chuckled. "I went from being Sterile Carol to Fertile Myrtle rather rapidly." "So ... what are you saying I should do?" "You use birth control at work, don't you." "Yeah, a diaphragm." "How much do you want a baby?" The wine was making her thinking a little fuzzy, but that wiggled through. "You mean, don't use anything at work?" "You'll improve your odds." "But it won't be his!" "The good news is that you won't know whose it is, so you can convince yourself that it's his." She slumped in the booth, staring at her glass. She'd looked at the sex at work as just a fun break, she hadn't considered at all that the men might be useful for something else. "Have you two considered en vitro fertilization?" "You mean like in a dish or something in a lab?" She nodded. "We can't afford it. The doctor said it's about $35,000, and that's assuming everything works." "The other thing is artificial insemination from a sperm donor," Marci said. "But why do that when you have all of the men at work?" "You almost make sense," Ronni said, "and that's the scary part." ------- After two more months, and two more periods—at least her periods were no longer irregular—Marci's idea was making more and more sense. She talked to her doctor about the whole subject. If she took something to increase her fertility, and the doctor told her that in her case there was no guarantee that it actually would, she also increased the odds of having a multiple birth. She decided that wasn't so bad; they'd wanted more than one kid, and this would take care of that in one pregnancy. She'd asked him about sperm donors. "That's always a possibility," he said. "That would have to be by en vitro, of course. Have you checked with your insurance carrier to see if they allow it?" "They'll cover 50% of it," she said. "That still adds up to a steep chunk of change." "Lab procedures are never cheap." He consulted his notes. "Other than that, Mrs. Dunlap, you and your husband can keep trying. You may get lucky. That's about it." His tone said volumes: mostly that she shouldn't expect to have a baby, at least by her husband. But she wanted children, and she didn't want to adopt. She wanted something that was hers, that she'd felt grow inside her, that she'd pushed out into the world, and that she could nurture and teach. Put that way, there was only one thing to do. Of course there was one other thing to try. "What about fertility drugs?" she asked. "I might as well maximize what I can." "That we can do," the doctor said. "You realize that you'll have to keep your weight up. I know the skinny look is in, but your weight does affect your health, especially your cycle. I've had girls come in who were as skinny as a rail, and..." He went on and on, but at the end he prescribed some drugs that would increase her chances of catching. She waited on tenterhooks for the next few weeks. When she had her period, she decided it was time for Step Two. They had another Corporate Retreat coming up, this time at a ski resort, and when she packed, she left her diaphragm in its case in her bathroom. "I never saw the point of a corporate retreat where it's cold and snowy outside," Kirsten said as the bus ground its way up the last road and slid to a stop. "Half the fun of going to the lake was that we could do it in the middle of nature." She shivered inside her heavy wool sweater. "If we tried it outside at this place, all they'd find would be a pair of icicles." "The brochure says each of the buildings is connected by a tunnel," Ronni said. "That's because the storms up here can get so fierce." "Yeah, I read that." The driver opened the door and they filed out. They stamped their feet and breathed heavy plumes of moisture as he dug their luggage out. Then they filed into the main building. Sandy, who used to be in HR but was now Mrs. Hubbard's Admin, was waiting for them in the main room. She was standing on the steps of the stairs that led to the second floor, a piece of paper in her hands. "Everyone draw a number," she said, gesturing at the bowl on the counter next to her. "Then find who has the same number. That'll be your roommate." "Can we change roommates?" someone called. "Within reason. I'd strongly suggest it if we have two guys rooming together. No sense in wasting things." "Especially not those things," a woman called amid general laughter. Ronni drew a number, and was pleased to find she was paired with Brent Towcroft. He liked oral sex, and all of the other women said he was pretty good at it. He proved it when they got to their room, pushing her onto the bed, and eating her until she went out of her mind. Afterwards, of course, she'd taken care of him. As his arms tightened around her, as his mouth opened, as his head leaned back, she wondered if he was the one. He was tall and dark, just like her husband, and his butt was rock hard when she grabbed it. Too much thinking, she told herself. Don't think, just enjoy. That was her last coherent thought for a couple of minutes as the demands of her body took over. "It's a shame we brought all of these clothes," she said as they unpacked. "Well, it's possible some of us might actually go skiing," he replied. He smiled at her. "Okay, I admit it's a small chance." He glanced at the triple-paned sliding glass doors that led to the hot tub shared between four rooms. "Let's check out the Jacuzzi." Marci and Jay from IT were in the hot tub. Marci was bouncing up and down on Jay's lap, her breasts splashing into the water each time. Ronni and Brent slipped into the tub—it was cold on the deck—and watched as Marci and Jay both came. Afterwards Marci slid over next to Ronni. "Some fun, eh?" "It's cold out here." "Yeah, but it makes your nipples stand out and attracts the guys. There are robes and sandals in the room to help you get from inside to in the tub." "Oh, we didn't see any." "Have you and Brent... ?" "We had to try out the bed. And before you ask, his tongue is marvelous." "We should let them recover," Marci said. "C'mon, let's check out the rest of the place." They went back to their respective rooms, and met in the hall. Marci had left her robe in her room, and naked, they both went exploring. Ronni smiled at a couple of the women they passed. Any lingering embarrassment she'd felt about being naked had vanished months before. She could remember being so shy in high school that she'd tried to dress after gym while still wearing her towel. Now she could look at another woman's sex, and be more curious about how she'd shaved her pubic hair. It was just like that joke a girl had whispered in her ear when she was in junior college: when you turned girls upside down they all looked the same. Not so the guys. She couldn't get enough of staring at them. Their cocks seemed to come in every shape, size, and length. And, as she'd learned in the last year, how they looked when they were relaxed was no indication of how they looked when they were hard. The main foyer had several couples standing or sitting near the fire. "I love buffets," Ronni murmured as they stopped in the door. "That reminds me," Marci said. "Did you ever decide what you're going to do about kids?" "We're going to do the sperm donor thing," Ronni replied. "Oh?" She followed Ronni's eyes as she looked at the men. "Oh, I see." "Yeah, I left my diaphragm home." "Well, have fun, girl." "I intend to." She didn't add that if she was with enough guys, then that would reduce the chance of her seeing some guy at work and knowing that he was the father of her children. She felt a little guilty about getting pregnant this way, but she really wanted a baby. She joined the crowd of men around the fireplace. They were watching a couple on the bearskin rug in front of the fireplace. Ronni could feel her own desires rising. That was one of the good things about these Corporate Retreats. If you weren't in the mood, seeing all of the other couples around you definitely got you in the mood. When the couple finished, somebody else took their place. She found herself next to Ron from Audit. Her hand brushed, then seized his cock. He cupped her ass as they watched, and when that couple was done she scooted onto the bearskin rug before anyone else could. The rug was scratchy against her back and bottom. Ron—she'd been jacking him while watching—was nice and hard. He settled between her legs, and she smiled up at him. He braced his hands on either side of her. She grasped his cock and pressed it against her sex, rubbing the blunt head up and down her slit. She pushed him down to her entrance. He pushed, and she took her hand away, running it up his body. She was so wet he slid in with his first thrust. A second thrust, a third, and he slid home, his balls nestling against her bottom. He began moving, and she bit her lip. She tried to stay in the moment, but couldn't help it. They were going to be here for four days, and according to the chart, these were the best days for her to conceive. They he touched something deep inside her, and her thoughts were blotted out by a wave of feeling. She drew her legs up on either side of him, hooking her ankles on his thighs. All that science and biology be damned; this felt good. Sex was better if she didn't think. Ron seemed to sense when her attention was fully upon him. She blanked everything out but the feeling of him in her, and of his body against hers. She clung to him, squeezing and moving in counterpoint. All too soon he came, flooding her with his spurts. She hadn't come, so when she got up she grabbed a guy who wasn't involved with anyone. She sucked him hard, and then bent over the couch as he put it to her from behind. The rest of the afternoon was a succession of men. She deliberately didn't keep count. But when she showered before dinner she wanted to just flop on the bed. She was tired, and her pussy felt tender, maybe even a little sore. She decided she needed to pace herself a little better. After dinner—one of the girls insisted that guys provide a high-protein creamy addition to the salad dressing—she decided to limit things to only one guy, at least for the night. She wasn't sure who the lucky guy would be, but as they filed into the movie theater, she let her hand squeeze the first cock she found. They watched about half the movie—it was a romantic comedy that was definitely erotica with plenty of naked bodies, hard cocks and bare pussies—before leaving for his room. They did it before drifting off to sleep, once in the middle of the night, and once again in the morning before breakfast. He was warm and tender, and she made a mental note to hook up with him at work. The next day it was more of the same, but a bunch of people went skiing. Ronni went with them, more to get a break than for the fun of skiing. While others raced down the trails, she and a couple of others tried their luck with inner tubes. That was fun, and when they returned to the chalet she took the time to thank the guy she'd been with in the proper way. His cock actually curved upwards, and she was more comfortable sitting on his lap. This let him hold her as she moved. That left her hands free to hold his body and rub her nipples through the hairs of his chest. He had great endurance, and she had no worries when she felt herself rising. She caught her breath when she came, gasping when the pulses finally stopped. "My turn, now," he said, and rolled her over on her back. He'd managed to keep his cock inside her, and he began moving vigorously. "Give it to me," she urged, snapping her hips up against him. "Harder! Harder!" He did so. She closed her eyes. He was scraping every nerve inside her, stretching her wide open, setting fire to her middle, a fire that was only doused when he came, flooding her. They eased to a stop, grinning at each other. "That was fun," he said. "Can you go again?" "You can get it up again?" "Not just yet, but I have something else in mind." He slid down her body, lifted her hips, and began licking her pussy. "Oooh, I like." His tongue was swiping up and down her slit, and every nerve was quivering from the attention. Coming so soon after her last climax, she was already wound up. It didn't take long before she lost control, spending against his lips as wave after wave of pleasure swept through her. After that he was hard again, and this time he lasted even longer. His cock touched every secret place inside her. She came twice, little orgasms that flushed her with heat. She knew a big one was lurking there, and his cock was drawing it out. When it did hit her, and there was a long build up to it that left her panting and squealing, she arched up into him, everything lost in the whirl of pure sensation. When she finally regained her composure she realized his cock had gone limp. "God, did we come together?" she asked. He nodded. "I felt your pussy snapping around me, and I couldn't hold back." She kissed him. "Thank you." They lay on the bed for a bit before sliding apart—she made a disappointed noise when she felt his length slip out of her—then finally got up. She rinsed briefly in the bathroom, and then, holding hands, they headed out to see what else was going on. By the time the off-site ended she was tired. She'd had sex with as many men as possible. Her sex was sore from getting such a workout. If she wanted to get pregnant, she'd certainly done her part. She slumped against the side of the bus. Her husband was going to pick her up, and he would probably want to do it. She liked the idea. Sex with the guys at work was great, but with her husband it was making love. Two weeks later she was late. She didn't dare vocalize what she hoped was happening for fear that she'd just be disappointed. Instead she continued with her routine. That morning, on her break, she got with Frank again. He knew her body and reactions pretty well by now, and he played her like an instrument. She took him doggie style, clutching the edges of the cot as her emotions peaked and everything narrowed down to where he was filling her. Her breasts were swaying back and forth, her nipples brushing the blanket. All of her feelings got so intense until she couldn't stand it. She came in one long shuddering wave of pleasure. He came right after that. She felt his come sliding down her leg. She slumped against the cot, her mind blank, her body filled with light and peace. This was the kind of climax she loved, the ones that left her like a wet dishrag, all of the tension flushed from her. Afterwards she peed and cleaned up a little. She dabbed on a touch more perfume—she didn't mind smelling like sex, but the customers might—and finally got dressed. She used a pad because she'd learned that Frank would pump enough come into her that only a prolonged douche would clean it out. When she got back out front Kirsten gave her a once-over and a smile. "It must have been good, you're face is all flushed." "Ever been with Frank?" "Not lately." "Do so. You won't be disappointed." Kirsten slid out of the seat. "I think I will." Ronni plugged her headset back in. "Okay, I've got it." "Yeah, same-old, same-old. See you at lunch." ------- Two days later she had to know. She'd already made an appointment with the doctor, but there were several home pregnancy tests. She bought two different ones. She had to use her tummy muscles to stop her flow and switch, but they both turned pink at the right time. She felt a warm glow starting in her middle. Now she just had to stay pregnant. The doctor confirmed it a week later. "You're three weeks along," he said. "Congratulations." "What should I do? Is there anything special I have to do to make sure I have this baby?" "I have some things for you to read," he said. "And we need to set up some regular appointments." She gave him a brief hug, changed back into her clothes, and returned to work. She told her husband that night, and they celebrated by making love. She spent the next few days celebrating with the guys she thought might be the father. She didn't want to find out for sure. She was just happy that she was expecting. ------- Kirsten eyed Ronni's bulging belly. "Are you going to work up to your due date?" "I intend to." She smoothed her hand over the bulge her babies were making. "Two girls and a boy. I can't believe it." Kirsten shrugged. "They say that's one of the side-effects of fertility drugs." "Yeah, I have them all at once instead of over a period of time." She glanced at the door behind her. "I do miss the sex, though." "I thought the doctor said you could ... you know." "He did, but it's so awkward that it's rather difficult. I can only do it on my side, and there's just not enough room on those cots." "Oh, I didn't realize that. I thought some of the guys would be self-conscious about having sex with a pregnant woman." "Some do. Mostly I do oral sex. It isn't as much fun, but everyone gets off." "Yeah, I bet." Kirsten's eyes glittered. "Are you planning on coming back after you have the babies?" "Oh, I'll be back. I won't be on fertility drugs, and if I get pregnant again, it happens. I don't think it's too likely, though. I'll be gone 6 weeks, and then I'll probably need a break. I checked with HR, and they'll let me work part-time until the babies are 3 months old. As for due date, three more weeks." "Assuming they come on time. Babies come when they decide to come, at least the first ones." "That's what I'm told." Ronni got up and headed for the door. "I'll see you in an hour; I've got some baby things I want to finish buying." Kirsten waved, then punched the button on the phone console. "Hubbard and Associates, this is Kirsten, how may I help you?" She listened with half an ear. Ronni had made her realize that she wasn't getting any younger. She wanted to have kids before she got too much older. Her sex life at home had settled into a routine of once a week or so, sometimes not even that. She glanced at the door. There were certainly enough men willing to do the job on the other side of that door. Maybe she should make one of them a father. It'd certainly be easy enough to do, and she could start right after her period. She filed that in her mental 'To Do' list, and punched the button on the phone when it lit up. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2008-03-08 ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------