Seduction 48

Andrea caresses me, teases me, tantalizes me while we unpack our clothing.  Several times she plucks my nipples.  She even inserts her fingers once, checking my state of arousal.

She grins when she feels my moisture.  “You are definitely ready for penetration baby!” she giggles.  “Are you ready to feel a gorgeous black male inseminate you, make our baby inside your belly?”

I blush.  I nod hesitantly.  “Will you still like me when I am fat and swollen?” I ask, afraid of her answer.

She takes my face between her hands, her face within inches of mine.  “As my father used to say almost every time he saw a pregnant woman, ‘A woman is never sexier than when she is nine months pregnant!’  I agree with him.  Your boobs will be plump and swollen with milk.  Your butt will be firm and round from carrying the added weight of the baby.  Your face will glow with health.  What’s not to love about you when your preggers, baby?”

I kissed her softly, hoping against hope that she will make love to me. 

Lovingly, she kisses me back, fondling my breast.  Then she pulls away.  “No release until you are with your stud, baby.  I want you so on-edge that you literally explode when he fills you with his baby-batter!”

With that she turns to lay out what she wants me to wear when I meet what might be our child’s father.  She looks up at me.  “Call your husband and let him know we arrived in good shape, baby.”

Jon has always been tuned into the sound of my voice, able to read my moods.  “Hey baby!  Thanks for calling!  I miss you terribly.  But thank god Andrea is going to video your love making, so I’ll get to watch you while it happens!  I’ve been hard continuously since you left!”

I had conveniently forgotten about being videoed!  “She’s going to video us?” I ask, startled, feeling very timid about the idea.  I remind myself that she owns me.  And she owns the products of my genitalia, of my body.  My tummy trembles even more.  “Is she going to put it on the Internet?” I ask.

“Of course baby!”  That’s where I get to watch it!  She makes a huge amount of money by selling the real time video of people having sex.  No fake stuff.  Just real sex by real people!” he says, obviously turned on by the idea.  “You sound a little scared, but very turned on, baby.”

As usual, Jon is right.  “Yeah,” I admit.

We are silent for a little while.  Jon reads my unspoken question.  “Yes sweetheart, I will love you being pregnant by another man, and yes, I will love our little baby.”

I whisper, “Thank you honey.”  I really needed to hear him say that right now.

‘Oh my god, this is really going to happen!’ I think, again, for the hundredth time.

Andrea helps me undress and then put on the clothes she has laid out for me.

She pulls me over to stand in front of the mirror while she tweaks my clothing.

My Andrea is really excited.  “Stand there while I take your picture to put on the Internet.  I think we are going to have a record number of log-ons!  Every person that logs on for this event pays a hundred dollars per half hour.  We’re going to make bank tonight, Sweet Pea!”

She snaps away as she has me turn and move and show off what she calls my sales appeal.  She posts the pictures on her porn site as I watch. 

I have to admit, I really do look seductive!

We watch as the number of logons rise, as the total site count swells, as the dollar ticker races upward.

Andrea laughs as she points at the computer screen.  “That lil ‘money maker’ of yours is definitely a money-maker, baby!  Look at that dollar amount skyrocket!”

Seduction 47

On the ride to the hotel, I asked Andrea when my ‘friend’ was going to arrive.

“He’s already here,” she said with a furtive grin.  “We’re going to go out tonight, and he will be there.”  She chuckled.  “It will be interesting to see if you can pick out the future father of your child from all the men that will be at the club!”

I thought about that for a while.  “What if I pick out the wrong one?”  The idea bothered me.

Andrea chuckled again.  “Well, the more men that you let play with your cute little cunny, the more men will be willing to pay for spending a night with you sweetie.  Think of it as advertising!”

A couple of minutes later, she added, “Just keep in mind that john’s can be good looking, rich, fun to be with, and good in the hay, all at the same time.”

I had never thought of it that way before.

She adopted a very conspiratorial tone, “So every time you see a cutie pie that turns you on, and you would like to . . . sample him, make sure you let him know through flirty eye contact that you would welcome his advances.  And when he inserts his fingers in you, use your vaginal muscles just like we practiced.  Most women do not know that little trick.  Or if they do, they are too lazy to do it.  They just lie there and let the guy, her husband or next-door neighbor, or whoever, pound her.  After a while, the poor husbands are lucky if they can even get off.  They feel rejected, get bored.  Their fantasies start to wander, if you know what I mean.  No, baby, believe me, men love a clutching, wildly alive pussy that welcomes their intrusions!”

Her face became dreamy.  “I can’t tell you how many men . . . good looking, well built, gentle, appreciative men . . . became my regulars because my vagina felt alive and welcoming, interested . . . unlike their white wives and girlfriends.”

I was flabbergasted!  I had never thought about why men might prefer a whore to their wife!  I thought about how Jon had become bored with our sex life.  Hell!  I was bored with it! 

But it had never occurred to me that I could do something about it; that I could become good in bed.  That by becoming good in bed I would actually start enjoying sex, that my husband could actually enjoy sex with me again. 

Almost like a new start. 

Except . . . .

I am a whore now and am trying to get pregnant with my john . . . a black man . . . to make my female lover happy . . . my black female lover that wants to live with me . . . and our children.  And is my pimp.  And my husband that wants to watch me have sex with other men.

And women.

And all of this is turning me on.  REALLY turning me on.  It would only take a single touch to . . . to . . . to trigger me . . . set me off . . . right now.

I am trembling.

Seduction 46

The tickets arrived the next morning about 11:00 o’clock.  There was a ticket for me, and a ticket for Andrea.  No ticket for Jon.  Which, when I thought about it, was good.  He had to work.  IF this all turned out to be a dream of some sort, we would need his income.

I could not stop thinking about the questions uppermost in my mind.  ‘Am I really a highly paid call girl now?  How did this happen?  Why am I doing this?  What is the difference between a call girl and a whore anyway?  And why does my tummy quiver every time I think about being a whore?  Why do I suddenly enjoy getting paid huge sums of money to have sex with strangers?  And for god’s sake, why does it turn me on to get paid to have unprotected sex with strangers?’

It had been years since I enjoyed sex with my husband.  I suspect he knew that. 

But then I have sex with fifty men in a bar, or what ever you call it, and they all leave their sex cream inside me, and I get so turned on that I can’t stop fantasizing about it happening again?

It’s like I am on hair trigger to have orgasms!  Plural.  I have never had more than one orgasm in a night, and that was on our honeymoon.  And now, I can suddenly cum for hours?  With a strangers?  Especially black men I don’t even know?

I’m a whore.  I am a high priced call girl whore!  And I love it!  What is going on with me?

Andrea and I spent over two thousand dollars on clothing for me.  She picked out each of the outfits.  VERY sexy outfits!  No underwear; just dresses and blouses and skirts and belts and shoes.  Oh my god the shoes!  And hose.  And sleepwear.  Sexy, slinky, revealing, seductive nightwear . . . for my Johns to enjoy me in.  Not for my husband.  Only men that paid to have sex with me.

In the dressing room, while I was trying on a shear white peignoir, Andrea slid two fingers into me and commanded me to do my vaginal exercises.  It only took me minutes and I went off again.  Andrea held her hand over my mouth to muffle my wails of lust. 

Everyone was staring at me when we walked out of the dressing room.  I actually felt kind of proud.  Some of the women looked embarrassed, some looked shocked, but most of them looked envious. 

I could feel my nipples, hard, proudly poking out as I walked through the store to the cashier, wobbly after my orgasm.  A couple of husband’s got their heads slapped as they stared.

We flew first class.  I wore a very sexy outfit.  Men kept walking by my seat, trying not to be obvious about sneaking a peak at my girls. 

Even that turned me on.

Andrea and I would giggle to each other when a guy did that.  Several women also flirted with me. 

As we were landing, Andrea leaned over and told me that she would be in a room next to mine.  She explained that there would be a door between the rooms.  I was to let no one into my room except through that party-wall doorway.  Andrea would test every man that would come through her room before they went through that doorway.  In other words, any person coming through that doorway between her room and mine was to be considered a client, and I should be the kind of woman they wanted me to be.  The kind of woman they had paid good money to enjoy.

When we stood up to exit the aircraft, I realized just how moist I was.

Andrea asked me if I am excited, or was I scared?

I thought for a few seconds.  “Both!” I admitted. 

“Spread your legs so I can check how wet you are, honey bunny.”

Blushing bright red, I did.  She inserted her finger without even trying to hide it from the men across the aisle.  She giggled.  “Yes, you certainly are!  You are drenched baby girl!”

Those men across the aisle were goggle-eyed, their mouths hanging open.

I smiled wickedly at them, then winked. 

Their erections were very obvious.  I reached down and patted the man’s crotch that was nearest the aisle.  “Don't you wish you were my date, baby?” I whispered in his ear.

I raked my fingernails lightly across the tip of his pee-pee.

He came hard, and, unfortunately, loud.  Everyone heard him.

As we walk off the plane, I can not stop thinking about the fact that I am actually going to be trying to get pregnant . . . to be inseminated . . . no . . . to be bred . . . for the whole time I am in Jamaica, by the man, the stud, that is paying to have sex with me; the black stud that is paying a tidy sum to fuck me as much as he wants to.  No holds barred.  Bareback.  I felt my bunny clench involuntarily, just like earlier when Andrea had blatantly fingered me. 

I almost squirted.

Seduction 45

The pictures on the Internet showed Jamaica as utterly beautiful.  Enchanting.  Sunny white beaches, beautiful people, blue ocean.  Everybody in the pictures wore huge brilliantly white smiles.  I wondered what I would really find when I got there.  I wondered if my John (that’s what they’re called, right?) would be a Jamaican fellow. 

I wondered what my Jon would think.

Just then Andrea walked into my study.  “Baby girl, we need to teach you how to use that little whore’s cunt of yours in the most effective way.  Come into the kitchen so I can teach you how to use your vaginal muscles.”

I have muscles there?  That had never occurred to me. 

Andrea looked at me.  “Baby girl, you are about to learn my most treasured and valuable secret.  This bit of knowledge earned me more money than anyone else in the trade back when I was on the street.  I got rich off of it.”

She pointed at the kitchen table.  “Lie down and spread your gams.”

Eyes wide, I did as directed. 

She pushed my knees farther apart, then opened my lips, peering inside me with that look of utter concentration that I remembered from when we lived together in the dorm, and she would study for a college exam.

“Stick two fingers inside yourself as deep as they will go.”

I did as I was told. 

I was slick inside. 

“Feel that little firm area right under your clittie, baby?”

I nodded.

“That’s the inside part of your clitoris.  It’s called the G-Spot.  It is the secret to cumming hard.  If you clench your cunt, the man’s penis will be pulled tight against your G-Spot as he thrusts in and out of you.  It will pull his member against you and give you great pleasure at the same time it heightens his pleasure.  Clench so that you can feel it inside you.”

I did, and it was true, my vaginal walls did press my fingers against that firm spot inside me, my G-Spot. 

“Now clench and release, clench and release.”

I did.  My sheathe felt alive!

“Now clench your anal muscles, like you are trying to push something out.”

I did.  It felt different than before. 

“Now clench like you’re trying to pee.”

I did, and that felt different too.

“Now rotate which muscles you clench.  First one set of muscles, then the next, then the third set, then back again.”

I did. 

Oh my god, it felt like a hand was caressing my fingers inside of me!

Andrea stuck her fingers in with mine.  “Do it again.” 

I did, and my darling Andrea began to massage my G-Spot as I practiced my clenchings. 

Within seconds I could feel my pleasure building. 

Andrea moved to kiss me with her deep, active tongue, just like I like her to. 

A minute later I exploded. 

My wetness sprayed the dining room wall.  I could hear it splattering.

I could not stop cumming.  She kept massaging me inside. 

After an eternity of body racking bliss, everything faded to black.