Sperm Bank Escapade

His eyes lit up at that; one of the "hobbies" listed on his profile at the sperm bank was C&W Dancing. We drove to a classic-looking C&W dance place in his car and went in and did our thing.

We had a great time doing the two-step, cowboy cha-cha and schottische. Neither of us drank alcohol, but seemed to have a better time than anyone else in the place. When he did a lift when we were doing the Falling Angel my pussy gushed. When we were face-to-face after the lift I kissed him hard and whispered in his ear "Time to knock me up," then kissed him again. Given the condition of his crotch it was clear that he was on board.

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Even though it was probably only five minutes to me it seemed like it took forever to get to the closest Hotel/Motel; not the Four Seasons but not a dump either. We were kissing and stroking hot and heavy as we caromed against walls and door jambs trying to get into the room without opening our eyes too much. I had to be careful in taking my clothes off because my only change was in my car, then several miles away. Fortunately nothing was ripped too badly.

During the entire day Roger looked and acted so much like Don that any feelings of impending guilt were easily suppressed. When I took his boxers off he no longer looked like Don.

In the dim light of the motel room Roger's cock looked as thick as a beer can -- and long too, although because of its girth it didn't look as long as I subsequently found it to be. "How is that fucking thing going to fit in my tight little pussy?" I worried to myself. I don't watch porn, but that cock looked like what I imagined a porn star's cock would look like.

Apparently Roger was used to my wide-eyes as I viewed his man-meat. "After a sixty nine you need to get on top," he moaned into my ear as he mauled my tits whose nipples had become hard as rock. So a sixty nine it was.

I was barely able to get more than his cock's head into my mouth, but I sure gave it a try. He, meanwhile, seemed to be anxious to suck my clit down his throat and rub my G-spot into oblivion. It didn't take long for me to cum like Old Faithful erupting. I couldn't suck his cock any longer as my nerve endings were fried, but I did fondle his testicles which each seemed to be as big as a lime -- maybe even a lemon.

When I finally came down from my climax he lay with his back on the mattress and pulled me on top of him. Then began my sluggish but steady attempt to lower my pussy onto his upright horse cock. It was really slow going but fortunately as pleasurable as it was unhurried. Roger didn't seem to mind the delay as he lightly twisted one of my nipples while sucking on the other one. Finally, for the last inch or two, I simply relaxed and I was shortly thereafter fully buried. There was some pain but it was momentary and replaced with the fullest feeling of my life.

I slowly started grinding and measuredly moving up and down. Roger responded by moving paradoxically to my grinds, lifts, and drops. It took a while to get in rhythm but when we did I saw stars the feeling was so intense. Seeing stars seemed mild, however, when after a few minutes of our joint feverish movements I started cumming and he started ejaculating. I think that I lost awareness for a short period of time as fireworks seemed to explode all around me. When he finally stopped pumping seminal fluid into my vagina I collapsed on top of him.

As I moaned with his seemingly beer-can thick cock still in me he lightly stroked the sides of my breasts while my nipples seemed to be almost in contact with his. I finally snapped out of my lethargy, slowly detached myself from his deflating but still larger cock than I had ever seen before, and fell on the bed next to him. I kissed him as I mumbled "Help me lift and hold my legs up so that the sperm travels to my fallopian tubes."

Maybe Roger knew what to do from his sperm donating escapades because he lifted both of my legs up and put a pillow under my ass. His words caught me off guard, however. "You know that lifting your legs really doesn't help you get pregnant," he grinned as he helped hold them up for me.

"No, I didn't know that -- but I like your hands on my thighs and ass anyway," I grinned.

"Yeah, the leg lifting is an old wives' tale because your pelvis doesn't move; but remaining still for ten minutes -- while I recharge," the last phrase said with a chuckle, "does help."

So I lay motionless, with his hands on my thighs and ass and occasionally stroking his fingers over my pussy and causing me to flinch, for about ten minutes. Then he lowered my legs and grinned "How about some help getting my little friend up to the task again?"

"Nothing little about that thing," I grumbled as I took his only half-hard cock into my hand and then started inserting as much of it as I could into my mouth. I really had to work to suck that monster, and it expanded so significantly I almost thought that I wouldn't be able to pull my mouth off of it. Fortunately the problem was solved and soon I was on my hands and knees while Roger started inserting his monster phallus into my wet pussy.

Again penetration was slow going, but oh so pleasurable. Once he was buried he mauled my tits while pistoning in-and-out. I tried to help out but I was both wiped out and overwhelmed. When Roger started grunting as he fire-hosed my cunt my circuits were fried, I heard my own scream, and this time I passed out longer than the first time. I know that I fell asleep shortly after he removed his cock from my pussy and felt him cuddle me.

While Roger and I were in the spoon position, likely about 3 a. m., although I was too bleary-eyed to see the bedside clock, he somehow got his cock up my formerly-tight pussy one more time. This time my only participation was encouraging groans. He was three-for-three in knocking me out when he unloaded his baby-makers into me again.

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Roger and I seemed to awaken at about the same time, face-to-face with our noses only a few inches apart. Despite morning breath we kissed. "Thanks for fucking me last night, dude; I'm sure that you did the job," I grinned.

Roger started laughing. "What's so funny?" I asked, playfully hitting him on his chest.

"A super-hot chick begs me to fuck her, giving me the time of my life, and then thanks me; and I forgot, pays me," he replied laughing so uncontrollably that I almost couldn't understand him.

"Bastard," I sneered, then rolled out of bed and into the bathroom. After I did my business I got into the shower. I heard the toilet flush and then felt him get in with me. We washed each other off, but had little hanky-panky because I was sore and I think that he was too."

We got dressed and moseyed to an IHOP across the street. We were both famished and ate like 300 pound truck drivers who had been on the road for 48 hours straight. Once we burped our last bit of blueberry pancake I said "Right now my pussy is too sore for an encore. However, if you're willing to take the chance I'll bet that if you meet me at the Crosby Heights Sperm Bank after my fake procedure we could give it one more try in a local motel."

Given that his smile was as wide as the Mississippi River I didn't need a verbal answer.

He drove me to within a block of where my car was parked -- I didn't want him to see my license plate so I got out there and sent him off, to meet me in front of the Sperm Bank at 1:30. I gave him the other $4,000 before I exited his car.

"You know I feel bad about taking this," he said trying to return it to me. "I'm not just blowing smoke when I say that yesterday was one of the top ten days of my life.

That made me really feel good.

"No, you must keep it; our contract says so," I smiled. "See you at 1:30; I'll try to scope out a motel before I go in for my fake procedure."

The sperm bank was a little surprised when I paid them $1,000 but didn't have the IUI procedure; but they confirmed that my relationship with them was confidential -- to the exclusion of my husband -- and no one would ever know that I didn't have the procedure.

I got out of the sperm bank at 1:25 p. m. and Roger was there waiting for me. I directed him to a Best Western about three blocks away (and only one block from where I had parked my car) and he registered.

This time there was no frantic removal of clothing. We were both slow and methodical. Once we were naked I had him lay on the bed and sucked one of his oversized testicles while gently stroking the other one and his cock. Then he turned me on my back and sucked and fingered me to orgasm. Then he very gently mounted me, as I wrapped my thighs around his waist, and slowly and meticulously inserted his cock into my vagina.

I have to admit that there were some times during insertion that I didn't think that he could buy himself with us in that position. I was proven wrong, after which he proceeded to fuck me to a four-for-four record in causing me to pass out when he injected yet another large load of semen-rich fluid into my anxious cunt.

When I regained clarity I said to myself -- but not to him so as not to raise any unwelcome thoughts in his mine -- "His wife Belinda must be crazy to cheat on a cock like that!"

We left the motel about three thirty giving me plenty of time to get home and start dinner before Don's expected return about 6:30 p. m. I felt great -- I was a little concerned by the single tear in Roger's left eye, but understood it. We had had a helluva last thirty two hours or so.

Our final words were: "What if you don't get pregnant?"

"Then I'll see you next month," I grinned back.

I did wince a little as I walked bowlegged to my car.

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On my drive back home I tried not to compare my sexual experiences with Don and Roger, but found it impossible. I was surprised at how quickly I was able to reach a comparative evaluation, however. While the sex with Roger could not be topped physically, and while the idea of being impregnated enhanced the experience, Don was a skilled and adventurous lover plus I was madly in love with him -- so the sex was 9.9 Don, 9.7 Roger.

What was so surprising to me was that I felt so little guilt. I knew that I had cheated but was able to convince myself that the circumstances were extenuating enough that I shouldn't beat myself up; plus I was confident that I could make Don even happier than he had been before.

Since we had been told that after the procedure I would have a sore crotch for a few days fortunately my horny little husband didn't try to fuck or make love to me Sunday or Monday. I did accommodate him, however, by giving him a couple of rare blowjobs on Sunday and Monday nights.

I wasn't sure what came over me Tuesday afternoon at work when my pussy started to juice and my nipples got hard. I concluded that it had something to do with Roger fucking my brains out with his horse cock. In any event, if Don didn't want to be fucked Tuesday night he was out of luck.

Don got home before I did Tuesday night but as soon as I walked in the door I started discarding clothes. My top and skirt were off -- only my panties and high heels were left on -- by the time that I got to him in the kitchen. With his eyeballs bulging "Oh my..." was all that he got out before I jumped into his arms, clamped my arms around his neck, and gave him a kiss hot enough to set off the smoke detectors. Fortunately there was nothing breakable on the kitchen table, and it was very sturdy, because we fucked on it like bonobos for the first time I could remember since our first month of marriage.

The second coupling that night was making love on the living room couch after our dinner digested. The third was in the spoon position starting at 3:14 a. m. according to our alarm clock.

The next morning -- not complaining but happily wondering -- Don asked "What got into you last night you little concubine?"

"I know that I'm pregnant -- I can feel it -- and it's making me hornier than a nun full of Spanish fly," I grinned.

"Woe is me," he laughed giving me a tongue-filled kiss goodbye.

I missed my next period and a week after that went in to see my OB/GYN since I had been advised that you could not consider a pregnancy test 100% accurate until then. I grinned when my doctor said "There's no doubt; you're officially a preggo!"

While I was pregnant I credited my pregnancy with my enhanced libido. Don and I were having intercourse between six and ten times a week, even into my eighth month -- when I officially quit work. I was one of those lucky women who glowed and felt great during pregnancy and only had morning sickness for about ten days. Although Don and I were careful about positions the last two months we continued to either fuck or make love until two days before I delivered -- which happened to be exactly on my due date.

I was almost completely back to normal two months after I delivered Alexander Donald Richards, full term at 21 inches and 8 pounds 3 ounces. I had a ball taking care of him, seeing each of his stages of development. Great Grandma Ruby treated him like the second coming, even more so than his maternal and paternal grandparents did. I worked about fifteen hours a week just to have some adult interaction during the day, but I was happiest when I was with Alexander.

By the time that Alexander was twenty three months old you couldn't tell any difference between his photos and those of Don when he was the same age. It was truly remarkable; also Don and Alexander had developed a strong bond almost since Alexander became self-aware.

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Last night Don and I decided that it was time for Alexander to have a sibling.

This morning I made a call on my burner phone.

"Hello," was the creative greeting on the other end of the line.

"Hi Roger, this is Jane Smith. I hope that your big cock is in good shape; I'm ready to have another kid."

"Well it's about fucking time," came the laugh on the other end of the line.