“Oh SHIT!” spluttered Melba May, “Dam monthly came agin! After Ah tried sew much to git knocked up tew.” She sat down and wept.

The determined eighteen-year-old had been screwing her brains out for two months with the goal of planting a fetus in her womb. Well, her brains ain’t been where most of the action happened, but that is how the saying goes.

She didn’t understand where this irresistible urge come from but a quick family history showed that for many generations out there in those southern hills, all the females in her genetic ancestry had their first baby by the age of sixteen and often well before. She was apparently a slow starter. Not in the baby-starting process, but in the carrying thereof.

Her Maw had the free clinic doctor do something when her monthlies started in order to keep her belly from swelling. The desire for pregnancy was somewhat muted by the hormones, but when she became of age she found out and cancelled the prevention.

A furious screwing spree ensued. That the first monthly appeared wasn’t unexpected from what the nurse said, but this second one was a disappointment.

She’d selected from the numerous men and boys who had ever fucked her, and there were many due to her looks, plus a goodly number of new recruits, to select a half-dozen to keep her cervix constantly bathed in sperm. She didn’t want an ugly or dumb baby, after all. Not knowing when her fertile time was, she took no chances on missing it, much to the pleasure of the many cocks who contributed. Unlike the years she was on birth control, close family were not allowed carnal access until she was preggers.

She’d better go consult Granny who seemed to know everything. The older woman had at least graduated high school, more than either of her own parents had managed. Granny had stopped at four offspring, far fewer than most, and still looked damn good at fifty.

Sipping coffee, “MM” as she liked to me called, complained, “Granny, Ah cain’t git a bun in mah oven. Ah’ve tried a bunch fer two munths and it ain’t worked.”

“Well, chial, tell yer Granny how yew bin tryin.”

MM related the numbers as best she could. There were so many she kinda had to make some estimates.

“Well, chial,” said Granny, using a phrase that she was famous for, “Ah thinks yew be tryin too hard. No, thet lahst word ain’t referrin to them man parts what yew’ve had plenty of stuck inter yew. Ah means yew’re screwing TOO much.”

MM opened her eyes wide, “Be that possible?”

“Yes, chial, it is. Ah think yew had so many differn’t sperms in there at the same time thet they were a’fighten each other instead of looking fer yer egg.”

“Mah EGG?” the young woman exclaimed, “Ah ain’t a chicken!”

“Chial, yew got some larnin to do, Ah thinks,” muttered Granny, real pissed at the shitty job them church folks did with sex education. “Abstinence ... bull. Never work round here.”

She took MM to the library and they got a book that opened MM’s eyes wider than her thighs. Some research online also revealed that the woman’s vagina can get defensive with too many kinds of sperm present.

MM thanked her Granny. Since she lived with two of her preferred potential fathers, trading pussy for room and board, and her body was most used to them, she’d try a while with just those two peckers puttin sperm in her. She now also understood about when ovulation was likely and she’d do one in the morning and the other in the evening instead of banging one after the other both times. That kind of tired her out anyway.

Just so they wouldn’t figger that one of then had knocked her up when she eventually revealed that had happened (she didn’t tell any of her dickers that she was trying), she screwed one other guy a week and made sure her roommates knew it.

It took! Granny’s advice made the difference. Her hornies soared and she stepped back up to balling her six fuck-buddies as often as possible. It was such fun telling them “Put a baby in me!” Some of them looked worried and others just fucked and shot that much harder. She preferred the latter.

Finally she couldn’t hide her swelling belly any longer. A couple of guys made themselves scarce but were easily replaced. Her roommates weren’t quite sure of what to make of their live-in pussy provider.

She was lying beside Tommy in his bed, the other roommate’s semen oozing out between her still swollen pink labia. Her hand rested on the familiar pole. He was usually pushing into her ready twat by now. Instead he was rubbing her swollen belly and looking pensive.

“Tommy, do you want to say something to me?”

He gathered up his courage and struggled to get his thoughts, obviously heavy with feeling, put into words.

Finally he spoke, “Have you noticed that Ah usually want you to sleep in my bed? [she nodded] Even though that usually means your pussy is pretty well used, like now, before you share it with me. It’s nice to get you fresh in the morning although Ah know you sometimes go to Philip in the night or before Ah wake up. But you come back to me.