My name is Lisa Kincaid-Mancuso. I’m what you’d call a freelance problem solver. No, I’m not a hit woman or anything like that. I’m just the one person people can turn to if they need answers on anything from changing their corporate image, to restructuring an inefficient production line. Don’t think badly about me. I’m not what you’d call a traditional efficiency expert. I show people how to do things better and faster. I don’t try and eliminate hard working people from their jobs.

You’d be surprised. Sometimes just talking management into building a nice break room with kitchen facilities can do wonders to increase employee productivity. If I have to absolutely eliminate a job, I usually have enough contacts where I can help find re-employment for the person or persons let go. If I was a true cut-throat, I’d be rolling in money, with a list of clients a mile long. I just don’t have the stomach to be that ruthless.

I’ve been happily married now for three years, and I have a confession to make. My comfortable happy life was nearly torn apart. I guess you could say it all started with my damn Internet going on the fritz. I was just trying to check my emails, and Comblast was not cooperating! I shut my computer off and headed downstairs. You could probably say I wasn’t in the best of moods.

“Hey babe.” My husband Frank greeted me as I walked into the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind, but me and the guys are gonna head on out tonight with the big boss man as a bonus for closing our latest deal. We’re catching the game in the city, grabbing some dinner, and then heading over to his house for some poker. I think Mr. Briggs wants to win some of that bonus money back! Anyway, it’s going to be an all nighter, I’m afraid.”

“That’s just great!” Don’t get me wrong. I love Frank dearly, but the boy’s night out thing was getting a little old. “I thought we were going to go see a movie tonight? We had plans.”

He gave me his patented little boy smile and pulled me to him. “Come on Lisa, don’t be like that! It’s not often Larry Briggs is in a money spending mood.” He kissed me, and anger or not, I knew I was letting him run off to play once again. “Damn it, it’s Friday too! Don’t you think I wanted to blow off some steam after a long work week too?” I smiled. “How about if I go with you? I like baseball, and I’m a damn good poker player.”

“Babe, we only have four tickets and its football season anyway.” He kissed me again. “Besides, if Wilson’s girlfriend knew we were bringing a woman to the game, she’d get all, well, nasty. She thinks every woman on Earth is trying to steal her man.”

I just shook my head. I’ve met Cynthia. Her claws are so deep into Billy Wilson that it’s almost funny. The poor man can’t even glance at a woman in the grocery store without Cindy giving him an inquisition. Rumor has it that he spent a week sleeping in their guest room because she noticed he got a boner while watching Megan Fox in Transformers. “Okay just go!” I tempered my angry outburst with a smile. “Tomorrow night you are taking me out to dinner and a movie, got it, buster?”

“It’s a date, babe!” Frank nearly ran for the door, as if I was going to change my mind.

I sighed. At least living with Frank is getting me ready to handle children. I laughed when I head my husband give out a triumphant cheer as he hopped into his car and sped off. I guess that was the real root of my mood. I’ve been off the pill now for two whole cycles. I was hoping for a little loving tonight, seeing that my body was fertile as a turtle and raring to go!

I sighed, and poured myself a cup of coffee. “I’ll just have to sit up late.” Frank may be tired when he rolls in at whatever ungodly hour, but I knew several sure fire ways to get him ready for action! If I was very lucky, maybe I could talk him into going bareback. The poor thing was scared to death of being a daddy.

I spotted his computer bag on the kitchen table and grinned. “At least I can check my emails.” I sat at the table and pulled the machine out and booted it up. His desk top image made me laugh. It was some busty Japanese animation character dressed in a leotard. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t place her. It looked like Frank was finally developing an interest in my little anime addiction.

I took care of my correspondence and just started noodling around on the internet. I wasn’t trying to spy or anything when I clicked on “Bookmarks”. Like I expected, there were a few sites listed that related to my husband’s work. Down at the bottom of the list, there was a folder labeled “Wildfire”. I clicked it, and nearly spit coffee all over the computer.

“Porn!” I exclaimed. Frank had always claimed he never cruised porn sites since we were married. I never actually believed him on that, but seeing the dozens of sites listed was like a slap in the face! That’s when it clicked where I had seen that busty girl. My husband must have watched “Princess 69”, an anime that was far too extreme in it’s portrayal of violent bondage rape scenes for my tastes. I had deleted it from my computer, um, after I watched every episode.

I clicked the bookmark at the top of the list. It had the unlikely name of Impregnorium. The site proudly proclaimed itself to be the best impregnation community on the net! My finger was shaking as I clicked on “Enter the Site”.

The laptop was set to remember the username and password. I was in. “Holy fuck! He’s got to be kidding!” My husband’s user name was “Coozehuntingman”. I guess he thought that was a clever play on Mancuso. I thought it was disgusting though, especially when I looked up Cooze on the Urban Dictionary. According to them, a Cooze is a girl so superficial, shallow, provincial, and generally ignorant, that all she’s good for is screwing. Cooze would be a good word to describe Paris Hilton, if she didn’t have all that money.

I was tempted to stuff the laptop into the microwave and nuke it, but I started looking through the site. “Oh my God, this can’t be happening!” My husband, using his Coozehuntingman alter-ego, had started his own thread in this impregnation discussion group. I clicked on “Hunt club”. He had posted quite a few photographs of women. They were all naked! Many of them were also women I knew!

There was nasty Cynthia, with her legs spread wide. Gooey white semen was dribbling out onto the bed. It was captioned “Cindy won’t let her boyfriend do her without a condom. I ride that bitch bareback every time! She says she plans on telling him the condom must have failed when her belly starts getting big.”

I found a picture of Melissa Briggs, Frank’s boss’s wife next. She was rubbing her baby bump and grinning wickedly up at the camera. That one stated “My pride and joy! Melissa has a knack for finding other women ripe for me to knock up!”

I looked on and on. There were ten pictures in all. Some of women I’ve seen around the various office parties my husband’s company throws, and the rest were strangers. All of them were naked, and three were obviously pregnant. The text claimed the others were well on the way. They all seemed smugly happy about their condition too.

The text was also full of comments from Frank, as Coozehuntingman, about how understanding his wife is, and how she had introduced him to the idea of an open marriage. How can he lie like that? Does he think the whole world will believe I let Melissa pick him sluts to impregnate? What am I thinking? He posted it on the Internet; of course people will believe it!

I was so angry that tears just ran down my cheeks. “You God damned asshole!” I shouted at the computer. “You cheating son of a bitch!” I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath. Here I had been trying for nearly a year to convince Frank we should have children, and all that time he was running around like some kind of one man population explosion! I was livid!

Frank even knew I got off the pill. I had told him they didn’t agree with me. The day I told him, the damn hypocrite went out and bought condoms! Even with them, he won’t touch me if he knows I’m fertile. Why is he so hot to knock those whores up, but not his own wife?

I sat at the table and cried for about an hour. Anger slowly forced me away from feeling helpless, and started me thinking about what I could do. “Divorce is the obvious answer!” I whispered, but that didn’t appeal to my vengeful soul. Besides, infidelity is so common these days that most courts don’t even take it into consideration as grounds for divorce. Let’s be truthful. I was supremely angry, but I still loved the fucking bastard. His extra-curricular activates didn’t change that. I don’t want to toss him out over this. I wanted to grow old with him!

It shames me to admit it, but there where one or two other tiny little matters to consider, even if I did attempt to divorce Frank. I loved my freelance work, but sometimes I went weeks without a paycheck. I’d be a damn fool to divorce someone who was rocketing up the corporate ladder like Frank.

Dammit! Why the hell did I ever talk him into signing a prenuptial agreement that would have me walk away with nothing if we should decide to split up? I can’t believe I actually told him I wouldn’t be one of those gold digging bitches that try to milk a guy out of every penny. We don’t even have a joint bank account! I use the checks I make as my personal spending money. Frank takes care of all the bills. Oh my God! The house and even my car are in his name! Does love make everybody turn stupid?

I shook my head. Divorce was out. There was no way I could afford an attorney good enough to break that damn prenuptial, even if Frank’s affairs were brought before a sympathetic judge that would see them as grounds to end our marriage. I hated to even think about the legal dream team my husband’s company would surely supply their Golden-boy of the accounts to go up against any legal hack I could scrape up the money for. I screwed myself, and not in the good way! The risk was just too great that I’d end up broke and living in some one room apartment in a bad neighborhood. It’s a good thing I still loved the rotten two-timing cheater!

I smiled when an idea slowly bloomed in my fevered mind. “Turn about is fair play!” I knew exactly what I was going to do. I was going to go out and get pregnant myself! My mind was made up. According to my calendar and thermometer, today was my most fertile day of the month. My calculations show I was ovulating today. Just an hour earlier, I had felt the sharp little tug that told me my left ovary had expelled an egg.

Some people think I’m nuts, but my Gynecologist told me that about twenty percent of women can feel the moment of mittelschmerz. That’s the exact moment of ovulation when the egg actually breaks through the ovary’s wall. I’ve felt them ever since I hit menarche. I had an egg on the way through my left Fallopian tube, heading for my womb. That egg was not going to waste! I was going out to find someone to screw me tonight. I needed a load of sperm to meet that egg. I was going to make damn sure it would be sperm from someone who would give me a child my husband would know in an instant wasn’t his!

My husband was the only man to ever penetrate me. He took my virginity on our wedding night thinking he was claiming a timid virgin. Virgin yes, timid, no! Frank doesn’t know it, but despite everything, he is actually in fact my second lover. I had one serious boyfriend before I met Frank. I still fondly remember my senior year at community college and Leon Washington.

Leon didn’t get my cherry. He knew I was a good girl and saving myself for marriage. We did just about everything else though! I learned how to give head on Leon’s cock. Love is a two way street. Many a date had ended with us in a classic sixty-nine position in the back seat of his car. I must have sucked Leon dry hundreds of times while his talented tongue drove me into a frenzy of orgasmic bliss!

On occasions when I wanted to give my boyfriend a special treat, I let him slather his cock up with Vaseline and very slowly ease it into my hiney! Leon always LOVED that, and it kept my precious virginity intact. I did have to go home with a tampon up my butt a few times. I still lived at home then, and I didn’t want mom finding weird stains in my panties when she did the laundry. That would have been embarrassing!

To this day Frank thinks he talked me into going anal for the first time on our one year anniversary, after getting me drunk on champagne. Memories made me smile through my tears. Leon always referred to his penis as The Black Mamba, and with good reason. That lovely ebony shaft was fearsome in size! Too bad he lives with his wife and kids in Germany now. Tonight I was just going to have to try and find a snake as dark and dangerously beautiful as his.

I was going to have a baby, and rub it in Frank’s two-timing face that it couldn’t possibly be his. Once he knew I was on to his wandering ways, and saw the price he had to pay for them, I would think about forgiving him for screwing around. Who knows, maybe I’d let him continue his little hobby, under my supervision, of course. I didn’t want him to lay a finger on that bitch Cindy, ever again! That sow was OFF LIMITS!

I had some preparations to make first. Jumping up from the table, I ran upstairs. For sentimental reasons, I had saved one of my Catholic high school uniforms. My good old green and navy plaid skirt was about to get a new lease on life. I slipped out of the conservative calf-length skirt I was wearing, and for the first time in years, slipped into my school skirt. It still fit! I felt a moment of pride that I was still able to get into it. It wasn’t the look I wanted though, so I hurried to my sewing room.

Yes, I sew. I have a Singer Genie sewing machine that still works as good as the day it was manufactured some time in the nineteen seventies. I got it for twenty-five dollars at a flea-market a couple of years ago. Thankfully, my uniform didn’t have heavy pleats in the skirt. That made it very easy to alter. I slipped out of the skirt and made some quick measurements. The two inches above the knee rule was about to go the way of the dodo. The plaid pattern made it very easy to cut away the unneeded material. Sitting in blouse and panties, I made fast work of tacking the new hem line.

Once again wearing the skirt, I turned my back towards the mirror, and leaned slightly forward. Looking back over my shoulder, I could clearly see the reflection of my white cotton panties covering my totally exposed rear-end. The nuns would have had a heart attack if they saw me like this! Too bad nobody was going to see my panties tonight though. I giggled like the girl I was when I used to wear this skirt, as I slipped the panties down my legs.

Turning around and facing the mirror, I slightly lifted my right leg and my now ultra-micro-mini-skirt rode up just a tiny little bit. It was more then enough. “Bingo! A perfect beaver shot!” I couldn’t help laughing. The altered skirt was now so short, I would only stay covered if a stood perfectly still. All bets were off if there was a breeze. Damn! Seeing myself exposed like that was actually turning me on. I was going to be every man’s walking wet dream!

I quickly undressed and grabbed a fast shower. Anger and desire made me feel almost drunk with power as I washed my body. I was tempted to stop and play, but I feared I’d lose my nerve if I took the edge off of my arousal. Hopping out of the tub, I toweled off and then did my thing with the blow-dryer.

I padded over to the bedroom I shared with my cheating sack of shit husband, and sighed. I looked in the mirror again, and examined myself critically. I’m thirty-one, but still get carded if I try to buy a bottle of wine. I could use a couple of inches, too. People don’t take you seriously if your only five foot tall. My breasts still ride nice and high, and at 44D, I know men check them out. Something else they check out is my butt. I sighed again and gave myself a slap on the tuckus. Why was I stuck with this bubble butt anyway? I work out all the time, and watch what I eat. I’m in great shape except for this Kim Kardashian rump! People swear it looks great, but I’m not too sure about that!

Well, I may not be one hundred percent happy with my body, but it’s me. It sure seems to get the attention of any man in the room. Big tits, slender waist, and a seemingly extra-wide pelvic girdle to go with my butt, give me an hour-glass figure like some kind of cartoon character from the nineteen sixties or something. I grinned at myself. “You are not going to have any trouble landing a man tonight!”

I braided my red hair into twin ponytails that hung down just past my shoulders. I don’t use much makeup normally, but I decided to forgo my usual lipstick and mascara. Looking really young would be a big plus on this little adventure. I grabbed my best white silk blouse and tied it on as a halter top, minus bra, of course! I grabbed one of my husband’s ties to match my skirt, and wore it loose with my blouse showing plenty of cleavage.

I slipped back into the altered skirt. Fantastic! I looked like some school girl slut from an adult movie. “Something is missing.” I went to my dresser and removed my contact lenses. I put on my cat’s eye glasses and took another look at myself “Perfect!” I shouted at the mirror. “I’m covering quite a few fetishes here. I’m going to be knocked up before this night is through!”

I put on a baggy sweatshirt and a pair of sweat pants to hide my outfit from prying eyes. I didn’t want to look too obscene where a neighbor could spot me. I grabbed my black ‘fuck-me’ heels and headed barefoot out the door. My heart pounded as I got behind the wheel of my car. I knew exactly where I was going to put my plan into motion!

I started the engine and was on my way! My destination was forty five minutes away. This gave me plenty of time to think, believe you me! I twice made “U” turns and headed homeward. Both times images of pregnant women that weren’t me made my anger surge up hotter then ever. That forty-five minute drive took me nearly an hour, but I finally made it.

I was driving through a quiet rural area. The buildings were few and far between. It put me in mind of Mayberry, or any other old fashioned small town. I passed several closed and dark shops. Abrams Fine Jewelry had its steel shutters down over the windows. The Memory Bank, an old bank building someone had turned into a used computer store still had its lights on.

A red motorcycle with two riders pulled into the lot as I passed. An absurdly busty woman, a young girl, and a lovely Irish setter seemed to be waiting inside the shop for them as the women dismounted the motorcycle. I drove on and turned onto a side street. I saw bright lights off in the distance, and finally spotted the building I had stumbled upon once while looking for antique and thrift stores.

I pulled into the parking lot of the adult video store. I had been curious the day I had discovered it, and looked it up online. The place had DVDs, magazines, books, and toys. More importantly, it had a movie theater and those nasty video booths with gloryholes drilled in them. All sorts of illicit activities were rumored to take place in the theater and those dark little booths.

Best of all, was the chief rumor about this establishment and the local chief of police. Apparently he had absolutely no interest in shutting the place down. He never even goes near the place any more. According to all the posts I read, he stopped showing up shortly after a mother-daughter team started having fun here. That was fine by me. I was angry, but not stupid. There would be little chance of me getting caught up in a police raid tonight!

Taking a deep breath, I gathered my nerve. I struggled out of my sweat clothes and left them on the passenger seat. I slipped my feet into the heels and opened the door. A cute middle aged man exited the shop and walked towards the car parked next to me just as I was stepping out of mine. I hadn’t meant to, but I inadvertently gave him the Britney Spears treatment as my micro skirt rode up.

He dropped a bag full of DVDs and I froze as he hungrily stared at my naked glory. He must have been looking forward to watching his new porn, because he had a fairly large bulge in the front of his pants already. I swear I saw it surge even bigger as he stared between my thighs!

“Hey baby.” He said in a husky voice. “What’s your name?”

“My name, I, uh” I almost gave him my real name, but I guess that wouldn’t be very smart. I said the first thing that popped into my mind. It was one of the user names I had noticed on the Impregnorium site. “Um, I’m Tina. Tina Tickles.”

“That’s hot, baby. I have something that could tickle you real good!”

“So I’ve noticed!” I stared right back at the growing lump in his pants.

“I’m so glad I ran into you, sugar tits!” He practically drooled. “They told me inside that the girls who usually come around here are taking some time off to have their babies. I drove for three hours to get here and never even got to see them! It’s okay now though! You’re even a redhead, like they are! This must be my lucky night!”

“Yup, I’m redheaded at both ends. I’m a natural born fire-crotch!” I seductively licked my lips. “Maybe it’s both of our lucky nights, big boy!” I slowly walked up to him, and rubbed my body up against his. Damn, his thing felt huge as it pressed against me. “Do you think that thick ol’ fire hose you’re packin’ can put out my fire?” I asked softly as I humped against his hardness.

I was just about to forget part of my plan, and invite a man as fair skinned as my husband to join me for a romp in my car, when the unexpected happened. My new friend moaned, and sort of shivered. He thrust against me once or twice before I jumped back. “What the hell? What the fuck are you doing?”

I couldn’t help staring as a big wet spot formed at the top of the bulge in his pants. I could smell the tang of his semen as the wetness rapidly pulsed bigger and bigger while he continued to ejaculate. It was sure a shame. That load looked huge! “Shit, keep it hard at least!” I demanded as the big gooey wet lump in his pants rapidly deflated and his crotch went flat. I couldn’t help sighing in exasperation as his interests waned. “Is that all you have for me?”

“Dammit!” he muttered, as he adjusted his flaccid cock through nasty wet denim. “Not again!” Snatching up his DVDs, he yanked open his car door and jumped in. “You filthy whore!” he yelled, before slamming the door and starting the car. “Who would want to fuck a nasty bitch like you, anyway? I have a wife!”

What a jerk! It wasn’t my fault that he had a hair trigger! How was I to know he’d pop his load just from two damn seconds of dry humping against me? His nasty attitude brought out the cat in me. “I feel sorry for your wife! I bet you don’t have kids with performance like that. You actually have to make the delivery inside, you know.”

I couldn’t help myself, and started to sing just as loud as I could.

“This really never happens you can take my word

I won’t apologize, that’s just absurd

Mainly your fault from the way that you dance.

And now...

I Jizz in my pants!”

“Fuck you!” he screamed, as he laid rubber leaving the parking lot.

“No, you won’t!” I called after him as he drove away. I’m not sure, but I think he was actually crying. Oh well. I didn’t have time to worry about Mister Premature and his bruised ego. What good was he anyway if his cock popped its load before it even had a chance to enter my body? His sperm would do me no good soaking into his pants.

I wondered how he’d explain to his wife the huge gooey cum stain all over his lap. Oh well, maybe it was all for the best. His skin was far too pale, and his hair, what was left of it, was the exact same shade as my husband’s.

All this would be pointless if Frank thought HE was the one that fathered a child in me! I wanted my husband to know the score right there in the delivery room. Race didn’t matter one wit to me. I just wanted a child to cherish and love! As a bonus, I wanted Frank to be crushed the second he saw our, no, MY baby.

Still, it was kinda hot. I turned a total stranger on so much that he shot off a huge load without me actually getting to see his dick. That was a real ego-boost! I felt like a real sexual Goddess! It made me glad I took the time to trim my bush nice and neat so he got a peep show worth remembering me by.

I locked up the car, thanking God for Keyless Entry. I had my house keys hidden under the floor mat, my identification locked in the glove box, and my sweat clothes waiting for me. What more would I need? I took a deep breath, and headed for the store’s entrance. My heart was pounding beneath my breasts as I walked past six other cars. I was about to enter the lion’s den!

I would have liked to have made a silent entrance, but a little bell was hanging at the top of the door. My nerve almost faltered as three men immediately locked eyes on me when it jingled. I smiled though, and strode into the shop. The three men displayed a nice diverse cross section.

One as a very cute Asian was wearing what I thought was a really strange shirt, until I noticed his supple arms were bare. I think they call it sleeves, or something, but every inch of flesh his tank top exposed was covered with intricate tattooing. He was about the same height as me with the toned body of a gymnast. I wondered just how much of that body was actually covered by artistic designs.

Behind Mr. Tattoo was a tall muscular Hispanic guy. He was about thirty years old; with long dark wavy hair I know a lot of girls would kill to have! He gave me a wink and pretended to go back to reading a DVD box. I could see his piercing brown eyes peering over the top of the box at me though.

Those two were fine examples of manhood, but the third guy took my breath away. If Michelangelo worked in Onyx, he may have created something as beautiful as this man! Have you ever seen the movie, “The Green Mile”? I almost wet myself in excitement. This man was every bit as big and imposing as the John Coffey character. He actually looked quite a bit like the actor, but I thought his face was far more handsome.

He wasn’t bald though. He wore his hair cut close to the scalp. It glistened darkly under the florescent lamps, showing a distinguished bit of white about the temples. I decided he must look like the “Green Mile” actor’s father. When he turned to look at me better, I could swear his rippling muscles were about to tear out of the tasteful sport shirt he was wearing.

Trying to play aloof and uninterested, I walked up to a display of dildos. I don’t own one myself. I never knew there was such a big assortment! They had them in literally every shape imaginable and all the colors of the rainbow. I’m not sure, but I even think one was based on canine physiology and not human. Bow-Wow! This was it. It was time to make my intentions known! I bent at the waist, and made a great show of studying the incredible non-human play toy hanging on the peg closest to the floor.

I felt a hand brush very lightly over my bare bottom. “You’re curious, I can tell.” A deep voice whispered.

I looked back over my shoulder and smiled at the man who was obviously interested in more then the toy I was looking at. My heart pounded. It was the “Green Mile” guy! “I’ve heard of such things.” I said in a cheery voice. “I’d rather stick with men though.”

His hand slid all over my rump. It was more then friction causing me to grow warm! “I’m a man.” He said in that deep rumbling voice as his big hand began rhythmically kneading first my right, then my left ass-cheek.

“You certainly are!” I stood tall, well, as tall as I could and gave him my best smile. “Hi! I’m Tina Tickles. I’m very pleased to meet you!”

That got an unexpected result. He roared with laughter! “If you give a nom de guerre, please make it one that at least sounds genuine!”

“Nom de guerre?” I asked stupidly. “I thought the term was nom de plume.”

He smiled and his eyes sparkled as he looked down at me. “Nom de plume is an assumed name someone writes under. Nom de guerre is a fictitious name used when a person performs a particular social role.” He caressed my bottom. “I suspect I know what social role you are here to perform.”

I felt a stupid grin spread over my face. “Um, if you mean the role of whore, you may be right.”

He looked thoughtful. “Do you mean that?”

I thought of Frank and all his conquests. “Yes. Yes I do!”

The other two guys were coming closer, but one look from my new friend made them hang well back. His hand slipped off of my bottom, and he grasped my tie in a huge fist. “In that case, come with me.”

Without giving me a chance to answer, he led me towards the back of the shop like a naughty dog on a leash! It was humiliating, yet arousing at the same time. I had expected a little negotiation first. I didn’t think anyone would just claim what they wanted so quickly!

The tie had snuggled up against my neck when he had pulled it. If I didn’t keep up, I was in danger of strangling! Nearly breaking into a panic, I staggered along in my heels at almost a run just to keep up with his giant strides.