She's Pregnant!
Chapter 11

Copyright© 2010 by Thinking Horndog

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 11 - I went out to find a hooker for Manny's birthday -- and got a LOT more than I bargained for!

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/Ma   Mult   Consensual   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Humor   Slut Wife   Wimp Husband   Cuckold   Wife Watching   DomSub   Humiliation   Harem   Interracial   White Couple   Black Male   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Sex Toys   Lactation   Pregnancy   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Prostitution  

I went back upstairs to watch football -- but my mind was on other things. The girls wanted to hop and cheer and such, but I was distracted. After a while they gave up and settled down, and soon after, Carmen collected Faye off my lap and led Donna by the hand to their room for an afternoon nap. Then she came back -- and the fun began...

Carmen was wearing a short skirt that was pleated like an accordion and one of those tank tops with the big armholes that go halfway across the back to show whether a girl is wearing a bra or not, supposedly. Well, I was pretty sure she had been, but when Carmen returned from putting the girls down, she wasn't. I noticed; I'm male, and I'm nowhere near dead and Carmen has hooters like cantaloupes. I got my first look at a pair of nipples the size of mini marshmallows at that point, too. Add the low neckline providing a view of her breastbone between her jugs and I had to work to reel my eyeballs back in.

Have I mentioned the fact that she wasn't obviously hot for most guys? The hooters were a little TOO big and a little saggy, and she had a bit of a belly and was generally what I like to call 'plush' -- meaning that she was padded, if not showing rolls. She wasn't a size six -- more like twice that, and maybe more, since I'm no expert in such things. I really can't tell you what all the excitement was about -- but it was there...

So she flounced over and plopped on the couch -- and I had to almost physically reach up and turn my head back toward the TV, because my eyeballs didn't want to leave the neckline of that blouse. I scolded them and sent them back to football -- but they sulked and kept creeping back. I felt guilty as sin because every time they did, they met hers looking back.

A couple of commercial breaks into this and I'd forgotten all about Evelyn and Ted's little adventure. Now, I had no right to be looking at an eighteen year old -- I was damned near twice her age -- and I was doing my best to be good -- but Carmen wasn't helping a bit! She made a point of moving or stretching or some damned thing that set her boobs to swinging and I would pick it up and my eyeballs would stick to the image like a fly to flypaper. Football? Was that what I was watching? Uh uh. Jugs. I was watching jugs...

At least, that was what I was watching until she pulled her feet up onto the couch! Then she flopped one knee off to the side and leaned on the upright one, her arms crossed -- and I discovered that she had a robust patch of fur down there...

"Carmen," I managed to croak.

"Yes?"

"Why do you want to tease me like this?"

"Luz says..."

"I DON'T CARE WHAT--!!" I roared -- then I got a grip on myself. "What does Luz say?"

"Luz says you are a bull," Carmen said carefully. "Luz says if I show you I am in heat, you will forget about this 'old guy' foolishness and BE the bull..."

"Come over here, Honey..." She levitated up off the couch and swayed over to my chair, then settled onto her knees, leaning on the chair arm. Such grace ... Such huge brown eyes ... Such a cleavage ... I shook myself -- calling her over hadn't been that good an idea... "I'm trying to do you a favor. You don't need me drooling on you -- there are plenty of young guys standing in line to do that. I mean, what's your grand plan? Having my kids? Come on..."

"Boys don't drool on me -- I'm fat and I'm ugly and I have a big ass ... Sometimes, old guys drool on me -- but usually they are REAL old. You're not REAL old..." she said softly, her eyes luminescent.

"We have no future."

"We have the present. The future is ... in the future."

"What do you know?"

I didn't explain myself, but she understood. "Nothing. Only that I want you to touch me. YOU know..."

"Sweetheart, in my mind I am taking something precious from you."

"In my mind you are giving me something precious," she replied softly.

I reached over and cradled her cheek -- big mistake. It was VERY soft, and she rubbed her face against my hand and purred like a kitten. I couldn't remove the hand -- it was magnetized. No problem, I would slide it ... Yeah. Down her neck, out, over the point of her shoulder ... no, that didn't work ... down, over her collarbone and out under her arm along the outer curve of her ... oops...

Carmen reached up with her other hand and totally defeated the neckline of her tank top, freeing both breasts, not just the one I had a handful of. "Yesss..." She arched her back, presenting them. My thumb made friends with her left nipple without me telling it to. So much for being noble and keeping my hands off the young stuff...

"Come here, then, if nothing I can say will stop you..." Then she was up in the chair, half beside me and half on top -- and I had a nipple in my mouth, chewing it...

And a feminine voice said, "Oops!" and then came the sound of a throat clearing. Sanity returned.

"Bad time?" Evelyn asked.

"Yes!" Carmen was vehement about it.

"I was ... bowing to the inevitable..." I explained, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Honey -- but the good news is that you've won the war," Evelyn told Carmen. "He won't fight so hard next time." Carmen just clutched herself to me, sniffling.

I decided that I wasn't getting up just yet. Each of my women was beautiful in her way -- and they were ALL a little younger than me -- but there is something about an eighteen-year-old. Something fresh and bright and right off the showroom floor. Carmen had that new girl smell... "Drag up a chair," I directed Evelyn while I ran a hand under Carmen's skirt. Carmen obligingly spread her legs, putting her foot on the chair arm and challenging Evelyn with a glare. I started rubbing her fur patch -- and the thick lips and hooded clitoris beneath. "You're shameless," I whispered. Carmen merely moaned and stuck her face in my neck.

"You did it -- with Cheryl -- in this chair..." she gasped. She was wet under my rubbing fingers already. I knew she was pretending that Evelyn wasn't there.

"Beds are better..." I rolled a nipple between my fingers. She tensed and began to jerk involuntarily in reaction to my fingers abusing her clitoris. There is a power trip to getting a woman off; I really hadn't indulged it much in my life. I picked up on which movements were most effective and concentrated on them and she whined into my neck and surged and arched herself and her pussy chased my fingers. Suddenly, she started humping herself against me rhythmically, whining, and bit my neck -- and I knew she was in transport ... She collapsed and pressed herself against me, allowing her thick thighs to close, trapping my hand. I let go of her breast and rubbed her back and shoulder. I wanted pussy -- bad -- but this would do.

"You do that well," Evelyn ventured. Carmen jerked but burrowed tighter against me.

"She isn't exactly frigid," I replied.

"I'm really sorry, Carmen," Evelyn said softly. "We had an appointment..." Carmen nodded into my neck.

I changed up -- which wasn't easy. "Where is Ted?"

"Downstairs," Evelyn replied. "I figured he should have a specific invitation, not expectations." She paused a moment, then added, "Of course, seeing this might have been instructive..."

"Maybe." What did I know about what went on in poor Ted's head? "What have you been doing?"

"Taking charge," Evelyn replied. "It's TOO easy. I sent him to the bank for a money order, counting the cash out, then made him sit there and watch while I paid off a charge card. He got the point."

"Can you do this?" I asked.

"In some ways, it's like back when we were dating," she said. "I decided everything. The excuse then was making me happy..."

"It still is," I pointed out. "He's damaged himself -- and it's gone a lot farther than he expected. I think the worse it gets the harder he'll scramble."

"Me, too," Evelyn agreed. "These guys..."

"It's tempting, but you -- and especially Ted -- will be exploited. And a lot of porn videos have, 'I didn't sign up for that' as an underlying plot. We need to know we're not being played with."

"Who would know that?" Evelyn asked. "Milo?"

"Milo is a realtor -- but he knows people who know people. Hand me the phone." Carmen wasn't going anywhere...

Milo was surprised. "They want to do a porn flick?"

"Yeah," I replied on speaker. "They realize that it is genuine and would probably be riveting. Problem is, we could get seriously ripped off. One of these guys is supposedly a pro -- but the industry isn't exactly known for its honesty in dealing with actors and actresses. We need to know what is usual and customary."

"I know a guy who knows a lawyer who..." Milo mused.

"It's Sunday," I pointed out.

"It's the afternoon," Milo shot back. "Shysters who swim in that sewer probably don't do eight to five by five days a week."

"Maybe you can get an example contract or something?"

"Maybe. I'll call you back."

Evelyn and I called the prospective client. I reluctantly banished Carmen from my lap and we went downstairs and I opened the office and let Ted in -- but made him wait in the front of the store, where there wasn't much but a counter and some advertizing for cleaning materials and a couple of chairs. "Hello?" a voice came cautiously over the phone.

"It's us," I responded.

"I talked to my buddy and he's hot to do this," the guy said eagerly. "We're thinking that distribution rights are worthless to you because you'd have to feel your way and probably get ripped off."

"That runs similar to our assumptions," I agreed. "We're working some contacts and hope to have a basis for deal structuring, but..." I paused. "Maybe we should wait a couple of days."

"If he's in the process, it only lasts so long, you know?" a second voice replied. "Soon, he'll get comfortable and we won't get the reactions that will make this hot."

"Yeah, we get that. You understand, though, that trust comes hard, here," I pointed out.

"We have ... standard contracts," the second voice took over. "We're prepared to go with a premium rate. We're thinking five thousand for something that hits the minimums, and fifteen for something that really captures the moment -- plus royalties. We'll distribute."

"We'll need standards for comparison," I retorted.

"Of course. You'll find this is generous. We don't budget 'Indiana Jones.' But if it takes off, royalties would be considerable -- maybe fifteen, twenty thousand. A hit in this genre could do more than that."

 
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