Chapter 1

"Oh god..." I said when I heard, unable to hide the disapproval in my voice. "Sasha, what have you gotten yourself into?"

"It's great!" Even over the phone I could hear how excited she was. Too excited, almost. "The doc says that he looks healthy, and I know it's way too early to feel it, but I swear ... I felt him kick."

"Him?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Well, obviously I don't know yet, but it's a boy. I can ... I can just /tell/, sis."

Even though she's a year older, I've always felt like it was my responsibility to take care of my "little sister". Sasha and I were bitter rivals growing up, something that continued right into our teens. When we turned fifteen and I suddenly grew a foot taller than her, some part of me felt that I'd "won", and the rivalry was (mostly) set to rest.

Since then, the relationship has changed ... more than anything, I'm protective of her these days. Obviously I love my sister, but she's so much more impulsive than me. She doesn't just leap before she looks, she leaps before she even knows where she's leaping from.

Despite her impulsive nature, the phone call telling me that she was pregnant was still ... surprising. To say the least.

See, last I heard, Sasha had decided she was a lesbian, and was dating a girl named Kathy. I think even she suspected it was a phase, but I don't think anyone expected it to end like this.

"Who's the guy?" I finally asked, after several minutes of Sasha gushing on about how excited she was to ("finally") grow boobs, for them to fill up with milk, and for her stomach to expand until it became her most prominent feature.

"Oh..." she said, and for the first time since she'd told me the news, she hesitated. After a few seconds of silence, she sighed, muttered something under her breath, and told me that his name was Gus.

"I ... I'm not sure that you'd like him though..."

"Oh god..." I sighed, for the second time that morning. "Sasha ... what /have/ you gotten yourself into?"

Over the next few weeks, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get any more information out of Sasha about the mysterious "Gus" that had knocked her up. She wouldn't tell me how they met, how long they'd been together ... she wouldn't even tell me what he did for a living. No matter what I asked, she just insisted that I wouldn't like him, and refused to give any more details than that.

My concern for my sister grew - at 24 years of age, she was barely able to support herself, let alone a child. And from the sound of it, Gus wasn't stepping forward to raise the child with her ... in fact, I didn't even know if he was aware that she was pregnant.

And so it wasn't long before I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I was around at Sasha's small one-bedroom apartment, as she insisted on showing me her breasts and seeking my opinion as to whether or not they'd grown. (I neither knew nor cared, but I couldn't deny that it was nice to see her so excited, and so I tended to nod my agreement to most of her enthusiastic pregnancy-related questions. I had to admit, the bump that was slowly start to show was pretty exciting ... and equally terrifying.)

When she made another of her increasingly-frequent trips to the bathroom, I saw my opportunity and took it. Rifling through her bag, it wasn't long at all before I found her cell phone, and found one "Gus" listed. I jotted down his address, and returned the phone to where I'd found it, just in time for Sasha to exit and tell me about her plans for the rest of the day.

"I didn't know you knitted..." I responded, and couldn't help but laugh when she admitted that she was only learning so that she could knit a pair of blue booties for her unborn child.

The outside of his house was nice - surprisingly so. Though I knew next to nothing about Gus, I'd mentally painted quite a specific picture in my mind, and the house didn't match. He should have lived in an apartment, with a creaky fire-escape and the sound of sirens, not in a nice house in such a nice suburban area.

I walked up to the door, and it opened while I was still mustering up the courage to ring the doorbell.

The man who answered was a much closer fit to how I imagined Gus. Short, balding, slightly overweight - he unashamedly leered at me for a few seconds, and I could practically feel his eyes burning through my top as he stared at my breasts. His gaze eventually made its way up to my face, and I saw a glimmer of recognition.

"Leslie?" he asked, and I nodded, too uncomfortable to speak. I'd never before been so frankly undressed by a man - he'd obviously been picturing me naked, and it was abundantly clear that he liked what he saw. As far as Gus was concerned, I was just a piece of meat, and I would have been surprised if he wasn't already imagining me on my knees in front of him, or on my back, his flab looming above me...

I shuddered at the thought, and swallowed.

"I ... I'm here for Sasha." I said, barely able to make eye contact with the man who had, it seemed, knocked up my little sister. I wondered why he was wearing nothing but a towel - his skin was wet, but judging by the smell, it was damp with sweat, not the wetness of a shower.

"Oh?" he asked, a sneer slowly creeping across his face. "/She/ sent /you/ here? Interesting..."

"She doesn't even know that I'm here. I ... I'm just worried about her. You ... you know that s0he's pregnant, right?"

It shouldn't have been nearly this hard to get the words out, but there was something about the repulsive man that was leaving me tongue-tied. Perhaps it was his unrelenting stare, or the way his tongue occasionally darted out across his lips, as if wanting to taste my skin.

I could imagine it now, the gross man standing over me, having stripped me naked. He'd drool, and I'd watch as the drop of his saliva slowly fell from his extended tongue, landing on me, showing me exactly how much he wanted me. One of his sweaty hands would reach down and slowly run from my neck down to my naked ass, leaving a trail of goose-pimples as it moved.

Ew. No. I shook off the nightmarish thoughts, and forced myself to focus - staring straight at his eyes, I used my steeliest tone of voice as I continued.

"Well, Gus? You've put my sister in ... the family way. Now tell me - what are you going to do about it?"

He just laughed in response, returning my gaze just as intensely. I couldn't believe that my sister, who'd always had such good taste in men (and women) before, had let this man fuck her ... and without protection, at that!

"I dunno," Gus finally said, after another long pause. He rotated his head and spat, the saliva travelling past me - an inch to the left and it would have hit me.

"Ugh," I said, unable to hold my revulsion back any longer. "What does she see in you?"

As if he'd been waiting for that exact question, Gus's smile broadened. He straightened his back, and his stare somehow became more intense. It was as if a switch had been turned on inside his brain, and his whole being suddenly lit up.

"Why don'tcha come in," he drawled arrogantly, "and I'll show you."

Bad idea, I know. No one knew I was there, and I'd trust Gus exactly as far as I could throw him. But I couldn't help it - my biggest weakness has always been curiousity, and I was so desperate to know what he could possibly show me that would explain Sasha's sudden desire for the hideous creature in front of me ... well, to get an answer to that question, I would have walked through the gates of hell.

Without a word, I followed him into his house - as he instructed me to sit on the couch in front of him, I was so focussed on his words that I barely even noticed the mess around me. Unlike the exterior of his house, the inside was filthy - clutter everywhere, half-eaten dishes littering the floor.

"You a virgin?" he asked, and I answered before I'd even considered the question.

"No," I said in disgust. "Not that it's any of your business..." I added, a few seconds later.

"You a lesbo?" he asked, and I just rolled my eyes in disgust.

"Just checking," he said, that huge, gross smile returning to his face. "See, the reason your sister let me pork her 'til she was preggers is simple.

"I've got a perfect cock."

It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, and then I started to laugh. I hadn't realized how much tension I'd been holding until I began to laugh, and it all drained out of me. I bent over with mirth, and a few minutes later, wiped a tear from my eye, straightened up, and made eye contact with the troll-like fellow in front of me once more.

"It's true," he said, without any hint that he was joking. "If you'd never seens a cock before, it wouldn't have quite the impact, but you'd still be able to tell ... mine is perfect."

My smirk slowly disappeared as I stared into his tiny, squinty eyes, and realized that he actually believed it. The nonsense coming out of his mouth ... he really thought it was true.

"Once a girl sees it, it gets into their head. They can't stop thinking about it - touching it, tasting it, licking it, sucking it. Wondering what it would be like to make such a perfect specimen cum, to feel it inside your mouth, in your throat, to feel it twitching with orgasm...

"And that's just the beginning. Soon they come back, and they ask me ... no, /beg/ me to fuck them. They want to feel my perfect cock inside every hole. They know that they won't be complete, won't ever be able to feell full, not until they've felt the perfect cock parting their lips, rubbing against their clit, filling them up with cum..."

I was staring at him, agape, as he raved. The passionate glint in his eye gave it away - he truly believed everything that he was saying. The insanity spewing from his mouth...

He thought that he had a perfect cock. He thought that was why Sasha had let him knock her up. And from what he'd said, he thought that showing it to me would have the same effect.