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Archive name: winery.txt (MMF, wife, intr, voy, preg)
Authors name: E. Cansell (ecanse@470.com)
Story title : Winery

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This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2002.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
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The Winery (MMF, wife, intr, voy, preg, alcohol)
By E. Cansell (ecanse@470.com)

***

Inebriated wife submits to impregnation with husband's 
consent when she learns that he's sterile.

***

The Winery
By the anonymous Audrey

Cleaned and compiled from a diary bought at auction 
from mini-storage lot by a.k.a. E. Cansell.

The following is my life experience in Northern 
California. Some accounts or history can be told in book 
and magazines. My name is Audrey for purposes of 
protecting my privacy and relaying this story to you. 
This account has very few platforms in which it can be 
told without causing a scandal and further embarrassment 
for the families involved. However I am determined to 
tell it before it is forgotten or I pass on. 

I was a housewife very devoted to my family and my 
beloved husband who passed away in the early 1990'ties.
I have four very beautiful and successful children three 
boys and one girl. The oldest is surveyor, the second is 
a manager for a large very well known hardware chain 
store, the third is a civil engineer for a provincial 
hydroelectric company in Canada, and my baby girl is 
married to successful ophthalmologist and is a 
schoolteacher in Santa Clara Valley. They all grew up in 
a very caring household and looking back, I am grateful 
that despite my mistakes, errors, and pain, they all grew 
up good studious children. Why am I grateful and 
thankful? Well let me tell you my story.

Moving to a small town in California in 1959 after 
marrying Martin in Nebraska where our families hail from, 
Martin obtained employment in a county Surveying 
department. And we moved into an established 
neighborhood. After a month of settling in another couple 
moved in next door, a black couple at that, which cause 
much discomfort in our neighborhood.

The couple "Glen" I will call him here and "Matilda" (to 
protect their privacy) was very quiet and nice it seemed. 
Matilda had an accident, which left her wheelchair bound 
and suffered from advanced diabetes. After a while the 
neighborhood calmed down and seemed to accept them. We 
befriended them and had them over for backyard Barbecues 
and card games, I guess to relieve our guilt and to 
encourage Matilda in her suffering.

In late March of 1959 my Husband Martin went out with the 
boys for pizza and beer after work. Martin had a little 
too much to drink that evening and was stopped by the 
Police and arrested and thrown in Jail on the DUI charge. 
After his release he was fired from his Job at the County 
after almost six months of employment. Martin tried to 
keep busy with his duties as Pastor of a Small 
congregational church of which we were members of since 
childhood in Nebraska. Martin never believed in being a 
burden on the congregation and always kept himself 
employed. So you see the tangled web, Fired from his Job, 
the DUI Charge, and being Pastor in our church.

After trying to obtain employment in his field Martin was 
unsuccessful especially in this area. Glen then began to 
help Martin find employment, I guess in return for us 
helping him find services and facilities for his disabled 
wife. Four Months passed by and the Mortgage Company sent 
us a final letter that they were going to foreclose our 
Mortgage for non-payment. To our surprise Glen came to 
our rescue and loaned us the money to make the payment. 
It was not blind charity that he was performing he was 
already talking to his wife's brother in law who was a 
manager at a private surveying company in the adjoining 
county south of here. 

Martin then began working and got along just great with 
the personnel, this was a great blessing for us it was 
the job that would help us send the kids to college. 
Grateful of his benevolent help we invited him and his 
wife to dinner one night; we served roasted Turkey and 
made a thanksgiving dinner out of the occasion. My 
Husband then commented, "I don't know how we can ever 
repay you and your wife for what you have done for us. 
The money I have repaid you is not enough in my view, we 
would have lost our investment, our house, and probably 
moved back to Nebraska in failure of our California 
dream."

That same evening Glen took Matilda back home next door 
and put her to sleep due to her fatigue and came back to 
finish the evening with us returning with Five bottles of 
Zinfandel wine from the Winery where he was manager due 
to being a Nephew of the Owner. Glen was half-Irish and 
half-black through his Mother who was also of mixed 
blood. The Winery owners usually tried to keep a low 
profile on this matter.

As this very pleasant evening passed on with a cheerful 
card game and more wine and more wine the atmosphere 
became very relaxed it was about 7:00 p.m. During the 
card game we were joking and playing for pennies to make 
it interesting. During the Joking Martin ran out of 
pennies and asked Glen for a loan. The subject of Glen's 
generosity and his overly extended, neighborly charitable 
deed came up again. Martin recalled his feelings of his 
earlier comment "I don't know how we can ever repay you 
again." Joking Glen said, "Well if it will make you feel 
any better you can lend me your truck for Saturday dump 
day."

Laughter incited, "Maybe you can dump all my prior 
problems," was Martins comment. 

"Or you can lend me your Rototiller, and till up some 
more problems", giggled Glen.

"Better yet I will lend you Audrey to do your Laundry," 
taunted Martin to my surprise.

"No, she is too pretty for that, beside she might not 
come back," laughed Glen.


Glen then got a phone call from next door and said that 
he would be right back, Matilda needed him for a few 
minutes.

Martin and I then began to sum up our evening. I asked 
Martin "did you hear that Martin, I am too pretty to do 
Laundry?"

"Yea," replied Martin "too pretty to do Laundry," he 
repeated under the influence of the Wine.

We then began to rationalize, question and discuss 
Martin's comment about lending me to Glen.... To do 
Laundry?

"Do you somehow feel indebted to Glen for his going out 
of his way and saving our home, uh Martin?"

"I guess I do, we owe a lot to him, he has been a very 
good friend and neighbor, I guess I feel for him also 
because of his marital condition, Matilda's disability. I 
can't imagine how he's managed so long that is Six years 
and not be able to have normal marital relations with his 
wife. Actually none at all to my observation of the 
situation, she seems totally incapable to me." 

"Yea, poor Glen, I feel sorry for him also Martin I wish 
I could help him somehow, but you can't intervene in a 
situation like that. He is just destined to keep his 
marital promise and his duty to his wife. Anyway he must 
love her to be very devoted to her. I guess any other man 
would have left her by now."

"Somehow I feel it is our duty, Audrey, to alleviate 
err... to repay his generosity, his Good Samaritan 
quality."

"Yea Audrey I guess in an other world, in another life if 
I had an extra wife to lend him one for a day, I would 
lend her."

Wine does funny things to your mind it alters, impairs, 
and modifies your judgment. At the time under the 
influence of the Zinfandel the minds fantasize and wonder 
into a state of euphoria. What follows are the results of 
that reasoning. 

"Would you lend me?" I teased

"I don't know, maybe I would, maybe not, and that would 
depend on you too."

"He did say I was pretty, you know I wonder if he 
secretly admires me."

"Maybe, I did catch him in the corner of my eye staring 
at you when you were pouring the wine though."

"Really what was he looking at?" I questioned.

"Maybe your legs, your form, don't forget I think you're 
pretty also, huh."

I then conjured in my mind what it would be like to go to 
bed with Glen having my husband's approval and blessing. 
After all Glen is very handsome and strong I've seen him 
play football in the park with the neighborhood kids. He 
does have a fine physical build. And my mind wondered and 
wondered.

"You know even if I had your permission it would be 
adultery, it would be a sin."

"A sin to help a fellow man get through life and get a 
little enjoyment out of it, just kidding," surprisingly 
answer my inebriated husband.

Then Martin reach into his scriptural depths in a moment 
of intellectual inspiration and began to surmise: "You 
know Audrey, adultery is betrayal, if you laid him with 
my permission what would it be? Certainly not betrayal! 
Then what would it be Audrey? What would it be classified 
as?"

"That's a good question Martin, I don't know, you are the 
Pastor?"

"If I unselfishly shared you with my fellow man. Would 
that not make me a Good Samaritan in return?"

"I guess it would Martin, lets' say I did for Pete's 
sake, I would have to have you present with me. Who knows 
what he would do alone with me, I would prefer you with 
me in the room there would be nothing to hide from you. 
You would witness all the happenings and no 
recriminations afterward. I would feel more comfortable 
having your immediate blessing or your intervention of 
anything that did not meet your approval. I would not 
want to displease you and put our marriage in danger 
later on, that is if I'd do it."

"I can not recall anything in the scripture to prohibit 
this, but only if you would want to, I would not want you 
to feel obligated," said Martin. "And you know the reason 
Joseph did not lie with Pharaoh's wife was because she 
was doing it behind his back and that would definitely be 
adultery that is betrayal."

"I could feel an excitement within me, lump in my throat, 
a dryness that I tried to relieve with another glass of 
wine."

"I don't see why he would refuse to touch these legs," 
teased Martin running his hand on my thigh under my 
skirt. 

This definitely encouraged me and made me feel sexy for 
Martin but would I be sexy for Glen?

Somehow we came to the decision to try it. We discussed 
it, as to how we were going to go about. Later on in life 
we would discover that Glen was very faithful to his 
wife, but when He could no longer stand it he would then 
seek out a lady a one-night non-committal stand. To this 
point in 1959 he has only had 3 encounters in the six 
years had been married to Matilda.

Apparently Matilda was aware of his ventures, she could 
tell when he had sex, knowing he would sing Roy Roger's 
"Happy Trails" in the shower that was the telltale sign 
the giveaway. However she was content to have him home, 
she understood her husbands needs, and her inability to 
satisfy him, any other man would have abandoned her and 
she would then be in worse situation.

When Glen returned back from home we offered him more 
wine in our best glasses. "We have a gift for you Glen," 
announce Martin.

"Really?" Glen surprisingly answered; little did he know 
what awaited him.

At that I started to unbutton my blouse and lower my 
skirt dropping them on the family room carpet floor. I 
then nervously walked towards Glen and sat on his lap and 
planted him long kiss on his lips. 

"But I am married," trembled Glen not wanting to touch my 
body.

"We know that, this is gift from us to you Glen you 
deserve it."

Martin then began to preach to him all our reasoning, our 
discussions and how I was willing to give my self to him, 
no conditions, no strings strictly a Gift.

Glen then began to caress my thighs and fondle my breast 
over my brassier. In the meantime Martin was preparing my 
bedroom for this occasion. Finally Martin came out and 
blurted "Bedroom's ready."

I then got up and told Glen to carry me, instantly he 
swept me off my feet and carried me to the bedroom a 
practiced maneuver he expertly knew with his 
incapacitated wife. As Glen carried me into the bedroom, 
I noticed it was dimly lit with two ritualistic romantic 
candles on the small bookcase headboard. He then laid me 
down on the bed and watched him disrobe of his polo sport 
shirt and khaki pants. I noticed his huge manhood already 
bulging under his jockey briefs. He understood my 
husband's presence in the bedroom ministering to us. 
Martin then bought in a glass tray and three empty 
glasses and a wine bottle. 

Glen laid down sideways on the bed and I quickly 
approached his muscular body and pressed against him my 
chest on his matte black hared chest and pressed my lips 
on to his and began to kiss him, the wine soothed and 
dulled all senses and conscience. Wine pouring in a glass 
called my attention peering through the corner of my eye 
and seeing Martin pour the glasses and noticing a bulge 
on my husband pants. This was also arousing Martin but he 
nervously kept to himself barely able to contain his 
trembling, possibly reminding himself and reassuring him 
self this was a selfless Gift for Glen and Glen only. 

He then offer me a glass of wine which I sipped while 
Glen worked on my bra. Then Martin offer Glen a glass and 
he turned sideways to sip his glass, then laid back again 
dropping my bra to the side and laying my breast bare on 
his matty chest. Oh what a feeling that was, it was 
indescribable, I then proceeded to kiss him feeling his 
large hands slide down the middle of my back and into my 
panties caressing my ass cheeks. He then lowered my skirt 
down to my knees. I then felt another pair of hands 
assisting him removing them completely; Martin then gave 
them to him to set where ever. 

Glen probed me with his tongue during our gentle 
lovemaking. Caressing my breasts Glen then began to 
remove panties over my buttocks gently. I wiggled my rear 
trying to assist him, finally then made down my thighs. 
Martin then took over and assisted in lowering them and 
finally removing them. Glen and I continued our patient 
lovemaking. My husband then offered us another sip of 
wine, carefully ministering us our every need, even 
wiping our chins from miss-sipped wine. Glen respectfully 
made no effort to make genital contact with me, 
conscience of my husband in the room he refrains, moving 
sideways a little at a time. I then began to kiss his 
neck working my way toward his taut and hard stomach. I 
could feel his manhood with my thighs and stomach as I 
made my way down.

I suddenly came to an abrupt stop when I noticed his 
manhood reaching up above his navel I was startled at his 
size, not that I would not noticed but it was so obvious 
and it had a menacing demeanor. Men are always conscience 
of their size, we women are not that particular, it is 
what a Man does with it is what counts, the way he uses 
it. My husband was frozen stiff at the edge of the bed 
cleaning the wineglasses a bit. (Later he confessed to me 
that he had never seen a man that huge before and that he 
almost intervened to put a stop to having this black man 
copulate with me.)

Glen then began to kiss me again working his way to my 
breasts, sucking each breast like a baby I caressed his 
kinky head as he fed off of me and I cuddled him gazing 
in a dream like state at my husband sipping wine. Why was 
I so willing to give my self to this Man? I guess it was 
his giving quality that kept seducing me on and of course 
the excellent wine.

As Glen approached my teddy he stopped and looked at my 
husband as if waiting for his approval, nod, a smile, a 
word. My husband said nothing but handed him white 
delicate cloth towel and a sip of wine. Glen took that as 
permission to proceed and he did so lapping my pussy like 
a puppy on a bowel of milk. He parted my legs and devoted 
his love making, pleasuring me like my husband sometimes 
does except I could feel Glen's small mustache twinge my 
clitoris. 

"Hmmm," he mumbled "its.... fuzzy woozy...." He then 
began to work his kissing ritual to my left thigh on over 
to my left hind cheek, licking my left side, finally 
coming up and homing in on my left breast where he hung 
on like a baby. My teddy was oozing I had no control over 
it I just had to have Glen in me.

I then straddled Glen under me. I, managing my hair and 
clasping it together all the while Glen cupped my breasts 
working my areolas then my nipples. I was dripping on 
Glen's taut stomach, just then a hand with a wristwatch 
appeared and swabbed Glen's stomach and wiping my furry 
teddy. Meanwhile Glen still did not make an effort to 
enter me, he had too much respect for me and my Husband 
to enter my body with his manhood into a reserved and 
prohibited area accessible only to my husband.

I could feel his engorged manhood suffering being pressed 
between our stomachs I could feel it's twitching head at 
my navel. I then laid my breasts on his matty manly chest 
and again started to kiss him probing him with my tongue. 
I raised my bottom up, feeling his large hands caressing 
my buns high up in the air I kept them waiting for his 
final grasp in passionate anticipation for that split 
second he would pull me down and bury his manhood into my 
anxious body, I wanted to posses his member, and caress 
it with my warm pussy and protect it from the elements in 
my motherly womb. But to no avail it still stood proud 
and strong in attentive strength All-American and rigid 
pride.

Later on I learned that Glen did not want to screw me, 
nor enter me with my husband watching, not knowing what 
reaction he'd receive upon seeing a black man-muscle 
penetrate his dear wife. He might get enraged and stop 
what progress he has made up to this point.

Still kissing him concentrating on loving kisses in 
gratitude that this wonderful person saved our home, my 
husband's dignity and sanity. Again my devoted husband 
gave me a sip of wine and Glen also of course. Martin 
finally came to the realization that it finally had to 
come about; it had to happen soon or later.

To avoid any recrimination that I took him into me or 
that he entered me without his blessing he took the 
initiative to encourage the union. He gently placed his 
left palm on my left cheek as if to adjust the position 
of my fanny, then I felt his hand under me as he 
nervously clasped Glen's massive male organ and pulled 
back on it trying to align it with my teddy. He could 
hardly control this black mass of gristle and muscle 
proudly holding its own in stubborn rigid strength, 
Martin's slightly pressing down on my left bun signaled 
me his permission to copulate.

(Martin later confessed to me how nervous he was almost 
calling the whole thing off, grasping Glen's male organ 
he almost let go in disgust it felt and seemed unclean. 
Resembling a large brown venomous cobra he dare not let 
go till it was safely in, put away and contained. When it 
was impaled in me he said it looked like a tree stump 
buried in my pussy with two hand grenades ready to go 
off. He said it was the most disgusting, despicable, 
vile, sight to behold and it made him sick to his 
stomach, despite the fact that it was his duty to 
officiate the conjugation to avoid recrimination from me 
or against Glen. He immediately left for the bathroom and 
made three attempts to throw-up unsuccessfully. ) 

I made no effort to stop his entry, I gently allowed Glen 
to meld into me, with the assurance of my husband's touch 
and caressing my behind. After the conjugation was 
complete he kissed my bottom tenderly and covered my 
derriere with the velvet sash he customarily used on the 
pulpit.

With Martin's blessing we consummated the union it was a 
beautiful experience with semi-religious connotations. 
After reaching an unbearable climax I felt Glen erupt 
with four strong spasms, I could feel his warm seed 
spreading within me as I held him in my womb nurturing 
his painful descent from his heighten ecstasy.... and I 
possessed him. Savoring his manhood within me, he was 
mine all mine as I nurtured him in my womb concealed and 
protected from my husband envious stares.

As I said before size is not important to most of us 
women, but to men it seems it is it either boost their 
ego, or if they compare themselves it shrinks if they 
somehow feel inferior. If you must know my Husband tells 
me Glen's manhood is a fourteen-incher, however I will 
not degrade nor dishonor my husband by telling you his 
size.

That evening I lay in bed in a semi-sleep caressed by 
Glen and my husband embracing me with his hand on my 
teddy as if to prevent a re-entry.

Later after Glen showered, my Husband sat in the family 
room discussing their mutual affair over rum-tea to calm 
their nerves and renew there friendship. After Glen left 
my husband assisted me in taking a bath and cleansing me 
thoroughly with an herbal bath treatment. I cleansed my 
self very thoroughly removing every trace of Glen's 
semen, I douched three times, not that I was afraid of 
getting pregnant for we made sure I was not ovulating 
since I practiced the rhythm birth control.

For the next three weeks I had very mixed emotions, I 
cried continually, then I recalled the tender fondness of 
our experience of my husbands Gift to Glen, and of Glen's 
appreciation for the Gift, his deep respect for me and my 
husband. Then I felt dirty, a slut, not worthy of 
Martin's love. I felt like I cheated on my Husband at 
which Martin reminded me constantly I did not cheat on 
him it was consensual. I had a mood swings and 
depressions, reexaminations of my soul, sleepless nights, 
loss of appetite, nausea almost every morning.

My husband in trying to reclaim his marital rights became 
very obsessed in having relations with me every evening 
after this event in which numerous times I accepted him 
then again would reject him feeling dirty. He kept on 
going right into ovulation after lengthy discussions that 
maybe it was time to have a child to cement our marriage 
further and this we did. Morning sickness got the best of 
me and at times made me feel even dirtier.

As my pregnancy advanced I began to heal my wounds of 
conscience and I started to appreciate and cherish the 
decision Martin and I made to have a child. The 
experiment with Glen became far away within my mind since 
we no longer associated with him as we use to. My husband 
still says hello to him, lends him our mower, he would in 
turn lend my husband a needed garden tool. We hardly re-
associated either by intention or we were to busy with 
our own lives.

In late may of 1960 we had a beautiful baby boy we named 
him Martin Jr. Light brown hair, when he grew up during 
high school he became every girls dream boy. He grew up 
to be a surveyor like his father. As time passed, one 
year approximately, we tried to have another child to 
complement Martin Jr. We tried time and time and again. 
Then we started to go to clinics to try invitro and other 
methods. Then we took fertility tests after nothing 
worked. My test was positive I was producing fertile 
eggs.

The surprise was Martin; he had tested negative, however 
he went back for more tests, then to alternate labs. All 
tests came back negative. After consulting with a 
specialist Martin was told that he was completely 
infertile, zilch, nada, zero.

We sat down over a hot tea one evening to discuss the 
problem and recalculated the expenses incurred and began 
to examine.... the.... most.... perturbing.... 
nagging.... Question.... In the back of our minds of 
which we were in denial. Was Martin Jr. really our son? 
Was it Martin's son.? Or was it Glen's? The doctor 
affirmed that it was a ninety- percent probability that 
Martin was always and has always been sterile. 

To resolve the question discreetly Martin went in for a 
paternity blood test. At the time DNA blood test did not 
exist, but a simpler blood test and it proved negative. 
The Doctor said that it was a 70 percent probability that 
Martin Jr. was not my husband's son! At first we thought 
that maybe he was, he had white skin, light brown hair, 
and my husband's slightly squinty eyes. Glen had squinty 
eyes also! Glen's parents were of mixed race; he had a 
lot of white blood in him. Then it hit us! Other babies 
had pink or light skin scrotums; Martin Jr.s' was a 
little dark!

The truth began to sink in slowly one day at a time; we 
had one child, Martin and I, and it was not really ours! 
It's Glen's and mine, the thought that I conceived my 
child that night on our bed with my Husband's blessing 
was an irony, at times it seem like a cruel joke, after 
trying to give Glen a gift of pleasure he in turn 
impregnated me. I was mad with myself, mad with Martin 
and at times mad at the world. Then I thought maybe it 
was meant to be, maybe Martin Jr. was gift a reward in 
return for our considerate thought.

Being that my Husband was after all, sterile as an unused 
hypodermic needle, all that time he was shooting blanks, 
he was firing into the air. He was charging into battle 
with an empty rifle, no bullets, how brave he was. If he 
had only known would he continue charging or would he 
desert and go AWOL? 

The relationship between Martin and I slid down hill to a 
very cold state. Then we decided to go back home to visit 
family, go back to our roots, and meditate where we come 
from, where we started at, and our roots. We then made 
plans to go back to Nebraska and visit. 


Omaha Vacation


We were looking forward to going back to Omaha and visit 
relatives and renew old acquaintances and this we did it 
was a very enjoyable trip the family got to know little 
Marty Jr. which included photo opts, a reunion camping 
trip. Almost all the family members remarked that little 
Marty had Daddy's eyes and my cheeks, (if they only 
knew.)

After two weeks in and around Omaha we finally tired out 
and were looking forward to returning back to California. 
Upon arrival we notice our neighbor was not up and about 
as usual and that was puzzling because he normally is a 
very active individual. I decided to call Matilda but 
then hesitated, 'maybe they separated' was my gut 
feeling. I finally came up with enough courage to call 
her.

To my surprise Matilda informed me that he was in the 
hospital a victim of some criminals who attempted 
burglary on our home and was knifed fending them off. He 
did managed to beat two of them up pretty badly but a 
third on came out of a waiting truck and knifed him. Upon 
hearing the news from Matilda my jaw drops. He had been 
in the Hospital for a week and was due to be released in 
two days. Martin and I began to visit him taking Matilda 
along with us instead of being all day with the temporary 
caretaker. 

Upon release two days later we invited Glen for a dinner 
on a Sunday night he gladly accepted the invitation. Glen 
entered our house that evening with a terrific black eye 
stitches on his right cheek, also pointing out his 
stitches on abdomen. We were glad to have him back and 
Matilda also; Glen this time bought 5 bottles of white 
wine to compliment the marinated peppered steak I made 
that evening. Matilda at times looked at me with envy or 
so I thought, or was it my conscience or imagination. 

After this lovely evening Martin and I began to talk and 
reason with ourselves about the previous ongoing 
discussions of having another child.

"I am not going to have a child out of the freezer," I 
retorted.

"That's the new technology, everybody that can't have 
children are doing it," replied Martin.

"What if the freezing damages that particular little 
sperm," I cried.

"We can try invitro from an immediate donor," recanted 
Martin.

"Invitro or no invitro, frozen or thawed it is too risky 
in my mind I can not handle it, from a stranger who god 
knows where he has been."

"Fine then we will get Glen's cock and squeeze it out 
him," Martin angrily puffed.

Then for a moment we sat there looking at each other 
thinking what we just said and the profane way Martin 
referred to Glen's manhood.

Then Martin rationalized, "you know Audrey we know Glen, 
he has a lot of respect for us and we for him also."

"Marty's new little brother or sister could truly be a 
brother or sister in the full sense of the word," I 
thoughtfully agreed considering the overwhelming chances 
of conceiving another child with mostly Caucasian 
features. 

After two days of discussion and soul searching we 
finally agreed and it was a go.

Friday night we invited Glen over for some hors de ors 
and wine. We commenced a card game that started at about 
7:30 till about 8:45 that evening. With Martin's nod I 
started the dance of seduction for Glen. Swaying to the 
soft music from the stereo I sat on Glen's lap wearing a 
split long skirt that opened once I sat on him. I 
conveyed to him that he deserved another one of our Gifts 
with Martin's insistence. By this time we each had about 
a bottle of wine, so our thinking toward this matter was 
very positive. Glen thanked us and told us we did not 
have to do this.

"We want to do this Glen we feel grateful once again you 
went out of your way to protect our home, however next 
time I hope in an instance such as this once you step 
side and let the police handle it," I softly scolded him.

Once again Martin prepared the bedroom for our 
conjugation, lighting two candles on top of the 
headboard. As I lay on my back Martin placed the 
sacramental velvet sash under my derriere and folded it 
across my stomach covering my pelvis. With this dutiful 
act I felt my husband's approval and blessing once again. 
The following is a description of my sentiments and 
illusions at the time before our second union. 

When Glen came out of the bathroom having placed a condom 
on himself this time, he smiled and said "Audrey, wow, 
she looks beautiful Martin"

Glen's slightly inflamed face, receding black eye and the 
two bandages one on his right cheek the other on his taut 
abdomen protecting his stitches in my minds eye he was my 
black knight in shining armor with his lance pointed up 
and forward charging into the fog of battle in ecstasy. 
Charging fearlessly as the day he fought the two thugs 
with his vulnerable love boy, exposed in front 
susceptible to injury. 

As he stood before me on his knees on the bed I reach out 
to him getting a firm hold on his condom covered man-
muscle. I questioned "what is this, there is no need for 
this!"

"I put it on Audrey I don't want to take a chance of 
impregnating you and embarrassing you and your family." I 
quickly pulled it off with a recoiling "snap" and threw 
it onto the dresser. 

"Let me worry about that, you just enjoy Glen, b'sides I 
practice birth control," I coyly lied. Tonight he was 
ours, the hell with frozen sperm and unknown donors, this 
was fresh out of the oven, Glen's scrotal sack nurtured 
and produced the sperm fresh from nature's scrotum and 
was delivering it al la natural. He then uncovered my 
pussy removing the over lapping velvet sash ends, then 
placing his hands under my thighs and spreading me like a 
flower to make access into my body. He quickly entered me 
in four gentle strokes.

Was I falling in love with him? His matty chest on my 
breasts or so I thought, I was falling in love, so I 
willingly took all of him with great expectations. Orgasm 
or not I wanted his manly seed to be spewed in me in 
abandoned ecstasy I now wanted his child more than ever. 
Suddenly I, along with six great pulses, felt the jets of 
sperm warming my inner belly. After a couple of minutes 
Glen went to the bathroom to cleanse himself.

My husband full of passion with the sight of these 
nocturnal events then mounted me and began to copulate 
with me since I had not orgasm yet. He rammed in easily 
as if to push Glen's semen farther in and assure 
pregnancy with his own sterile effort. I finished with 
Martins enthusiastic pumping and spewing his semen within 
me.

Martin also went to the other bathroom to clean himself 
up. Just then Glen came out and laid beside me nice and 
clean and nodded off. I was so exhausted I tried to get 
off the bed and nodded off again next to Glen's left 
thigh. I gazed at him through heavy drowsy eyes, and 
there it was, the lance of his manhood lying there on his 
dark brown thigh withering away and dying. It seems to 
shed a tear of post-coital sadness. My feelings were that 
I could not let it die like that, I had to do something 
to bring it back to life.

So I gently caressed it with my right hand and kissing 
it, tasting its tear and it seemed to perk up a little. I 
then took in his manly-muscle as it grew once again, 
strong all-American strong and rigid, I sucked on it like 
it was popsicle to keep it from melting and running down.

Suddenly my husband walked in, mouth opened in surprise I 
froze in fear of displeasing him and I dropped his member 
immediately, as I got up to apologize to him. Crawling 
off the bed "spsszppt" POW right on over my right eye, in 
a split second "spzzzppt" POW on my left breast despite 
putting out my hand to defend my self. "Sppisszzpt" spat 
on my right rear derriere. Finally I got far enough away 
to avoid two more blows from Glen's firing man-weapon 
that seemed to have an aim of its own like it knew its 
intended target. Sperm running down my face, breasts, and 
rear thighs in trembling in fear not knowing whether to 
whimper or sob, Martin gently cleaned my face, breasts 
and thighs. 

My husband began to laugh .... in a low tone. "That's 
what you get for playing with live ammo, if you do not 
know how to handle it wait for my instruction, besides 
you never point the gun to your face if you are not 
handling the muzzle properly. Then we all started to 
laugh breaking the seriousness of the ritual to this 
point, realizing we should enjoy this more as part of 
life, to lighten up sort of speak.

The following week was again full of remorse for my 
conduct; again it was a roller coaster of emotion. Was I 
falling in love with Glen? In effect was Martin in error 
on his conviction that this was not cheating therefore it 
was not adultery? Then what was it if I felt this way? I 
wanted to be with Glen again but I withheld my emotions 
bit my lip and cried inside me day and night for about 
two weeks. I then began to accept life as it is and 
resigned myself to live a life of denial. 

Martin again tried to reclaim his wife; he went at it day 
after day giving it his all, firing blanks into my womb, 
till his man fruits were empty. Morning sickness again 
set in with a vengeance. Nine months later we had a 
beautiful baby boy, we kept our fingers crossed that Glen 
would do as good a job as he did with Marty Jr. and true 
to his genes he did. Little baby David had dirty blond 
hair and his facial features were more mine and no 
squinty eyes, Oh thank you lord, thank you. Again our 
unselfish nature paid off.

We were richly reward with this beautiful baby boy which 
we name for his Uncle David who never came back from 
Vietnam. David has grown up to be a manager for a 
hardware store and very successful at it too. David now 
lives in Western Canada.

Again we kept our distance from Glen and Matilda, however 
not as far this time; Matilda made more of an effort to 
keep in touch with me. One day Matilda confided in me 
what she suspected all along. "I know what goes on 
between our families Audrey, but you know I prefer it 
this way," sobbed Matilda.

"What do you know," I quizzed her.

"It's so obvious I know when Glen has been with a woman, 
he tries to hide it, but I can read every page in his 
book, I know him like the palm of my hand," she enviously 
quipped. 

"Has Glen told you anything in particular," I asked.

"He does not have to when he sings in the shower as happy 
as a bird I know. But I prefer this to having him lye 
down with strangers or street sluts. She began to sob 
uncontrollably, I tried to hug her but she kept pushing 
me away, until she finally gave in. You know I am 
incapable of pleasing my husband however I always manage 
to keep a supposedly hidden box of condoms. I pretend I 
am not attentive to the box. All I ask Audrey is that you 
don't alienate him from me don't take him away from me he 
is all I've got in this world. I hope you husband does 
not come down so hard on you when he finds out."

At this point I began to explain the whole picture to her 
how we shared this Gift to Glen for all that he has done 
for us. And how Martin, the Reverend Martin my husband 
for a fact, has blessed this arrangement. And we talk 
over crumpets and tea till almost midnight that evening.

A week later Matilda and Glen went to Sunday service and 
heard my Husband's fire and brimstone sermon on Adultery 
and how it constituted cheating behind your mates' back 
and the pain it caused to the betrayed mate. On the 
pulpit was the velvet sash, which Martin uses also to 
cover my Derriere while consuming Glen's black man-muscle 
up into my womanly passage. How comforting to sit in the 
pews knowing that we did not cheat anybody nor did we 
betray our mates, but in the back of our minds still 
questioning the yet unidentifiable sin.

Later on in Life a car hit my husband and his associate 
on a surveying job. Martin was laid up for weeks during 
his hospital stay and he was also diagnosed with cancer. 
Unable to perform his masculine duties because of 
chemical treatments he summoned Glen over more frequently 
to conjugate with me and keep me satisfied.

And when Martin could manage it he would once in while 
also enter me deposit his meager contribution, though 
small it was very much appreciated by me. Glen sang 
"Happy Trails" in the shower I could hear him next door, 
Matilda too was happy he was not straying but staying 
close to home. I kept my promise not alienate him from 
her, the relation was purely a physical one. He was a 
stud unbeknownst to him and that's all he was.

Having a third child with almost no trace of his black 
genes made us very comfortable. So comfortable we decided 
to have one last child. During my third month of 
pregnancy Matilda passed away. Glen was very distraught, 
depressed, relieved of a burden, guilty of not being able 
to copulate with her and therefore lay down with me 
instead. After the initial blow Martin would send me over 
to keep him company and so that he could find comfort and 
sympathy. Martin instructed me provide him with coitus if 
necessary so that he would find comfort in my womb.

"I don't mind you lying down with him in any case the 
child that you are nurturing in your belly is his, and 
that he adds a little more warm fluid to him in the womb 
I am sure will make the child comfortable. And this I 
did, pregnant and all I let Glen in and let him deposit 
his measure of love even though he could not enter all as 
before considering the baby's safety. On a cold December 
our baby girl was born we named her Matti (Matilda) in 
honor of faithful Matilda. Four months later Martin my 
faithful husband died of his cancer, at least he got to 
hold baby Matti in his arms, that is one of the few joys 
of life that is not comparable to any materialistic 
endeavor. Matti teaches school in Northern California. 

The children are all under the impression for all good 
and purposes that Martin is their father. They don't know 
that Glen is their biological father. Since they all have 
Caucasian features Glen does not suspect they are his, 
that is, I don't think so. Maybe it is because his four 
brothers all married black women and have black babies 
the wives genes made sure of that. One married a white 
woman before his second wife and had a white baby. Glen's 
brother accused her of fooling around with man at a 
honky-tonk bar and so began their UN-reconcilable 
differences and they divorced.

I don't dare divulge to my children their real father, 
who knows the chain reaction or cataclysmal consequences 
that could result. And I don't dare tell Glen about his 
children. So you see the tangled web. Glen wants 
children, he never had any with Matilda, so he wants to 
have one with me.

I love Glen but I can not marry him and let me have his 
child lest he discover our nasty little secret; that is 
he is capable of having white children with a White 
woman. Glen is light brown black, with lighter black 
features, his hair is almost not kinky that is a very 
tight wavy hair. And now you see the web gets more 
difficult. What can I do? What should I do? All the love 
making, frolicking, the happy life has come to a 
standstill.

I am caught between a rock and hard place. I continue to 
have him as my love neighbor, I love him but I can not 
marry him. My children already cautioned me about Glen 
getting to close to me. However Matti is different she 
seems to like him. When she comes over to visit she tells 
me she can really communicate with Glen, that she wishes 
that they could have had a father like him (poor child if 
she only knew).

What should I do?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
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Kristen's collection - Directory 19