Chapter 4: Reflection

A few days later I’d had the strangest conversation with Claire about Trent’s super sperm and the possibility of Cliff having the same problem. We’d talked about Cliff’s brothers and sisters, all their different moms. Claire didn’t seem concerned but was quite clear that she didn’t want a baby any time soon. It was a relief, and about all a mom would want at this stage.

I’d also elected not to tell Chris about any of this as it would likely only fuel his crazy fantasies. Also, I had to admit that it had had an effect on me also. I’d even looked back at some of our digital photos of me when I was pregnant with Claire. Christ I was huge. Though my glow leapt from the page. I certainly didn’t want another baby at this time of my life, not from Chris, Trent or anyone. And I mean, a black or mixed-race baby, god no. That would complicate my life to a whole other level that I didn’t need.

I caught myself in the mirror the other day after a shower before work. I had an amazing body, apart from these huge boobs. If I wasn’t worried about the complications, I’d have investigated having them shrunk down years ago. They just didn’t fit my frame anymore and were certainly not perky by any means. I was lucky that Chris, the only person that got to see them, loved them to bits. The size, the weight, the shape, the hang, all of it. Yup he was weird on so many levels.

My stomach had the slightest bulge, but I was in my 40s so I accepted that. My legs were big, all muscle, thick and strong. My hips, wide and curvy, my ass a good size and not too big at all. I liked how I looked in Yoga leggings, and I noticed a lot of double takes when I wore them. Even my mons looked good. Quite big and fleshy, my lips protruding, my clit hanging back. I was tight down there, I knew that. Chris wasn’t that big but boy did he stretch me out. It felt great and he loved getting inside me.

I kept thinking about Trent’s Yin and Yang thing. My boobs made sense with his, what I could only guess was his huge cock. As in them maybe matched size for size. But he was almost saying that his big cock needed a big pussy. Well that certainly wasn’t going to be me any time soon, or even ever. But I did realise that I was thinking about it, and him way too much.

And that pill. The one he’s sneaked into my drink. Was that why I was thinking and feeling like this about him all the time? Did it have lasting crazy effects? I was troubled by my own internal monologue about that. My initial reaction of going to the police had been quashed so quickly and easily. I couldn’t quite understand how and why. That man had taken advantage of me and it was wrong. So very VERY wrong. Why did I think about it so much? Why was I remembering the feelings it gave me favourably? Why was I wondering what it would be like to have another one!

I even considered asking him what it was called and maybe getting one myself, so that I could understand it better. You know, how long it lasts, what it makes you feel like, were they legal, were they addictive. I had so many questions and nowhere to go for the answers. I actually thought about finding someone to talk to about all this. To help me understand why I was spending too much time thinking about him. Why had he managed to get into my mind so easily? Why was I still thinking about him? Why the fuck was I masturbating thinking about that man?

Chris was a great husband, loving, intelligent, caring, focused, kinky. He was also a great father to Claire. We wanted for nothing, had plenty of money, lovely holidays, a big enough pension pot, an ok sex life and best of all we still loved each other dearly. And this was one of the reasons I didn’t want to play into Chris’s crazy fantasies. I didn’t want to upset our nearly perfect apple cart.