Trapped by the Pregnancy Club
Copyright© 2010 by RH Music
Chapter 12
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 12 - Mr. Michaels, a teacher on summer break, is trapped in a basement by eight teenagers who have formed a pregnancy club. Seven of them are intent on having as much sex as possible. The eighth is a member for an entirely different reason.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft Consensual Reluctant Heterosexual First Pregnancy Teacher/Student
Okay, so what should have happened is this Someone realizes that this cluster of girls are all pregnant for their final year of college. Under interrogation, one of the girls confesses to being part of a "Pregnancy Club". It is enormous news around the country. News reporters flock to our little town, trying to figure out who fathered all of these children. Someone makes the connection to my sudden resignation and my summer disappearance. I am dragged before a district judge and thrown in jail for 20 years for 100's of counts of statutory rape by a person in a position of authority.
That's what should have happened.
Instead, what really happened was really quite anti-climactic. Each girl went home, admitted to their parents that they had "made a mistake" and had accidentally gotten pregnant during a wild party at a friend's house (or while running away from home, or during summer camp, or whatever was their excuse) with "some boy", but they were adamant about keeping the baby.
They acted contrite, and sorry, but vulnerable and happy and feeling so much love for the unborn child that everyone just naturally jumped to their defense and helped out in any way they could.
And no one asked questions.
"How can this be?" I asked Heather. "Doesn't anyone care who the father is? Weren't your fathers outraged? Wasn't your father outraged?"
"Oddly, no. Of course they asked who it was, and then I told them I wasn't sure, and after that, for some reason, everyone stopped probing me for details. I think they were too freaked about what they might discover about their little girl."
I was actually hailed as a savior and "steadying influence" to Heather when she introduced me to her parents.
"We're so grateful to you," said her mother, "after all, in her condition..."
"In her condition she's the most radiant being on the planet!" I enthused, as Heather smiled and put a hand on her growing belly.
"Well, I don't know about this age difference," said her father, "but I suppose when she's 80 and you're ... what, 97? I suppose it won't be such a big deal."
"Uh, sure," I said.
"Sides which, she just turned 18, so there's no stopping her, if that's what she really wants."
"I do, Daddy," Heather responded.
"Well then, if you're willing to take care of our damaged goods..."
"Pa!" said Heather's mom, outraged.
" ... and since you got health care and that nice job at that geological survey place, well then, I guess welcome to the family!"
"I'm honored."
For the next 8 months all of the girls were constantly coming over and spending the night with Heather and me. All nine of us entered Lamaze classes together, discussed prenatal and postnatal care, invented fantasies about how all of the children would grow up to become fabulously successful and best friends forever (which mostly came true).
Every month we would get together and take a group picture me surrounded by eight girls, soon to become eight mothers, all with growing bellies.
At eight months, we all got together for a weekend at Janice's mother's beach place. Of course it was February at that point, and the beach was deserted and cold, but we didn't care. It was just nice to be together, and the cottage had heaters and there were a few restaurants open.
Besides which, fewer people around was probably better.
By then, of course, Heather and I were married, and so naturally the girls were all a bit more shy around me than they were during that "summer of conception" (how we started calling it).
"Well, I'm really frustrated," Zoe said.
"What's the matter?" asked Pamela.
"Oh, my stupid breast pump. Since I'm having a caesarean, you know, because of the twins, the doctor says I need to stimulate my own milk production - because the pups won't get 'turned on' normally like they would if I actually went through labor."
"So, what's the problem?" Janice asked.
"Oh, the pump doesn't make a good seal, and nothing's happening. The doctor said I should get the father to do it," she added, with a laugh, "that most guys would just love to help out. But of course I couldn't tell him that was impossible."
Suddenly all of the girls looked at me.
"What?" I asked.
"What's so impossible about it?" Heather asked.
"Hold on here..." I started.
"Oh, Heather," Zoe said, blushing, "I mean ... you and John ... after all - you're married and all ... I didn't want to..."
"Come here," Heather gently grasped Zoe by the wrist and pulled her over to stand in front of me.
"Now it's true that John is my husband," Heather said, taking hold of Zoe's fuzzy sweater and slowly pulling it off of her. "But he's still indentured to the needs of the pregnancy club. Isn't that right, John?"
"Uh..." I didn't know what to say. Was Heather, my wife(!), really serious?
"Of course it is," Heather unhooked Zoe's bra from the back, freeing her enormous, swollen breasts right in front of my face.
"Oh, I am so liking this," said Eve, her hand on her bulging belly moving lower.
"Maybe I'll turn the heat up," Jane said.
"Uh, I don't think that will be necessary," Stacy said, with a grin.
Standing to my side, Heather put a hand behind my head, and gently pushed me towards Zoe's pendulous bosoms.
"And it seems to me that Zoe has a need - and she's certainly a member of the Pregnancy Club in good standing, wouldn't you say?"
Heather lifted my hands and placed them on Zoe's enormous belly. Twins, I thought to myself, feeling one of them kick.
"They can sense something good is coming," Zoe smiled, feeling the twin girls becoming more active inside of her.
"Zoe has a need, and so I think you better start doing your duty," Heather said, placing a nipple between my lips. I could smell baby powder and female sweat and skin. Her breasts felt taught and silky smooth.
I began to suck, gently.
"Oh..." Zoe said, her knees nearly buckling. "God that feels good..."
At first nothing happened, but then eventually, I could taste just a little bit of sweet something.
"I ... Oh my god, I think something's happening..." Zoe gasped, holding my head to her chest, smothering my face. "Yes..."
"Just because he's my husband doesn't mean that he can get out of his responsibilities to the Pregnancy Club," Heather said to the others.
"Hear, hear!" said Janice, grinning, followed by all of the others.
"I knew what I was getting into when I fell in love with him. I knew he had responsibilities and that he would need to fulfill those responsibilities to the utmost. And I would be a terrible, selfish wife if I stood in the way of those responsibilities one bit. And so..."
Heather knelt down and whispered into my ear.
"And so..." she continued, "I do not intend to stand in the way at all. In fact, I fully intend to help - however I can - for you to be just the most responsible associate member of the Pregnancy Club that you can possibly be."
"Are you sure about this?" I asked Heather later that evening when we had a moment alone together.
After eight months, the summer of conception was starting to feel something like a far-away dream, except, of course, for all of the pregnant girls all around me all the time.
And there had been something about that summer, that I-am-not-in-control overly saturated sexual intensity that was so special and which I had assumed I would never again experience.
But I was wrong. That afternoon in the beach house where Heather undressed Zoe in front of me brought it all back - in a mad rush. It was as if we were all right back in that basement, all of them demanding and physical and joking and loving every moment.
Before Heather could answer, we were interrupted by Eve.
"I want sex," Eve demanded. "I have to have it. I can't tell you how horny I've been! My breasts are sensitive, I've got all this stuff going on, I've masturbated like, 12 times a day since my second trimester. Please!"
"Uh..." I hesitated.
"Hey," said Eve, "sex with pregnant women is perfectly fine. I asked my doctor. He said 'go for it'."
I looked at Heather.
"Indentured to the needs of the Pregnancy Club," she said smiling. "Just be sure to save some for me, Mr. Studly."
Eve wasted no time pushing me onto my back and clambering on top.
"Lying on my back is no good," she said, reaching down for my penis - which had been rock hard all day long, as all the girls had demanded I suckle their breasts to help with "milk production".
"Oh my god," I said, gasping. "Sex with an underage pregnant girl..."
"Hey," said Eve, "I'm no longer underage! No, you're just having sex with a pregnant teenage former student of yours, who's, like, almost ready to pop..." she grunted as she slipped my penis into her wet pussy, "oh god yes, how I missed this..."
Later that night, after some of the frenzy had worn off, Heather and I were in the Kitchen snuggling and chatting.
"Are you really sure about this?" I asked her again.
"Of course I'm sure. Listen, I made my choice when I joined the club. I knew what would happen. I knew that you would be forever tied to these girls, and that, knowing you, you would feel a deep obligation to each and every one of us, and should we have children - and god willing it looks like we're all on our way! - I knew that you would feel a deep responsibility to every one of your offspring. And as soon as I realized that - well, that's when I fell in love with you."
"Really? When you realized how responsible I was? Are you kidding me? A teenager falls in love with responsibility?"
"No, that sounds dorky. That's not it. I think what I realized was that your capacity for love, and caring, and loyalty ... that's what makes you responsible - you do it because you love and care for others, and what woman wouldn't fall in love with that?"
"But you know what this means? That you'll be sharing me with everyone else in the club?"
"Of course I know what it means. But not sharing you, demanding exclusivity - that would be so much worse! It would destroy the bubble of love that surrounds us all. It would cause all kinds of in-fighting and recriminations ... it would be terrible. And worse, making you choose some of your children over others? How awful would that be? It would kill you, and then that would kill me."
Heather paused, a tear in her eye.
"Things are so perfect between us all right now ... that I never want that to change. Of course, I love you first and foremost, but I love Janice, Zoe, Stacy, Pamela, Jane, Kristen, and Eve second and almost as much."