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Introduction:

A FICTIONAL accounting of a guy who gets off impregnating girls, gets the chance of a lifetime.

Go ahead and call me a sick and perverted bastard. But just remember, not one single living soul was damaged in any way during the writing of this story. IT'S FICTION, PEOPLE!!!


So, what was I supposed to do? I mean, there I was alone with the girl and all she was wearing was a flimsy pair of shorts and a tank-top that was made of the same material. She’d been sitting on the edge of her bed waiting for me and she stood when I entered her room. I could see the slight bulges of her tits poking through her light pink top, as well as her bony hips poking through her bottoms. She looked a bit nervous and in that way that two emotions can show on the same face, she also looked somewhat excited. Now, I’d be lying if I said my dick wasn’t completely hard by this point, and surely she noticed the bulge in my pants. Short of untucking my shirt to cover it, there was no way for me to hide it. But considering what I was here for, I felt no shame, as I usually did when I knew there was an obvious lump in my pants. I felt no need to hide my excitement from her. And I know I’d never been so excited in my life. Her father’s words kept running through my mind, “I want you to breed my little girl, Tom. I want a grand-baby, ” the man said to me no more than half an hour before. “And I don’t want for some pimple-faced, pencil-dicked, local boy to knock her up either. God, I can’t even imagine some little fucker grunting and groaning and drooling all over her, humping at her like a dog on a bitch. That little girl in there deserves to get broken in by a real man, like you.” He made it sound like I’d be doing him a favor by busting his daughter’s cherry and, hopefully, impregnating her in the process. So, like I said, what was I supposed to do?
I closed her bedroom door behind me, feeling like I’d just stepped into a bottle of Pepto’, everything was pink, even the light silk top and shorts she wore. She stood by her bed, I stood by the door and we looked at each other for a moment. It all made sense now. I’d been wondering why the girl’s father had invited me to his home. I mean, he seemed to be a pillar of society. I’d only been in town a couple days and I’d already heard his family name. Yet, as strange as it was when the forty-ish man pulled me aside at the Dairy-Dip stand where I was working (I’d been in the right place at the right time, and was half a week into a two-week stint scooping ice-cream, to cover for a regular worker who needed some time off), and as strange as it was for him to invite me to his home for a dinner-party (which I immediately accepted), he then put an arm on my shoulder and his face right by my ear and softly said, “Just a suggestion, son,” and I thought, Here it comes, “let yourself work-up an appetite between now and then,” he chuckled and poked my ribs with his elbow, “and I ain’t talking about food, either.” Then, with a wink, he added, “Do us both a favor and don’t get yourself off between now and then.” Ok, so that was strange. And at first I wondered if he wanted me (which I would have been ok with, he was a big, good-looking guy and I, well, that’s another story . . . ). But, he had to have noticed how I’d been looking at his daughter. He had to have noticed her flirting with me and me flirting back. My mind was chaotic over the next two days. It was so wild that at one point I was ready to call and cancel, when I’d convinced myself that it was all a bit conspiracy, and the moment I popped a rod in front of his precious little girl, he’d have me hauled away to jail. Yet, here I was, hard as a rock and in the girl’s bedroom, staring at her tempting young body. A flash of that paranoid conspiracy-theory crept into my mind, as my eyes raked over the girl’s silk-covered chest with the two tiny buds poking at the pink fabric. She sure was a pretty girl, but she seemed so young. Her father told me she was a few months shy of the legal age of consent in that state (which was a couple years younger than the age of consent where I was from), but that didn’t seem to matter to him.
At first, when he told me what he wanted me to do, I said, “No.” Considering what he was asking of me that was the only answer I could have given him. He just chuckled and like he’d already had it planned, went on to assure me that he wasn’t going call in the cops, or anything. Then he went through the whole thing about how inbred most of the locals were and how he didn’t want his little girl’s first time to be with some bumbling boy with no clue how to treat a girl. “You’re the perfect man for the job, Tom,” he said with a wide grin on his face. “Nine months from now when my little girl’s having your baby,” his eyes went somewhat glassy at that thought, “Who the fuck knows where you’ll be, and who the fuck cares. If one of these boys from around here gets at her, then he’ll be hanging around all the time wanting to see his kid, and his parents will want to see their grand-baby, and it will just be one big mess.” Like I said, he made it sound like I was doing him a favor. When he’d put his whole plan out on the table, well, I couldn’t refuse.
And in a very off-kilter sort of way, it made sense. I was a drifter, in their eyes anyway. Within a few weeks, I’d be gone. The man could have his grandchild without any interference from the baby’s father, or his family. Now, I wondered a bit as to why the man wanted a grandchild so badly, however, as he went on, explaining the offer fully, the whole notion sort of slipped from my mind. See, this guy really wanted his daughter to get pregnant. “She started bleeding every month about two years back,” he said, sounding like discussing his daughter’s menstrual-cycle with basically a complete stranger was completely normal. “And she’s been regular as clockwork ever since, and it hasn’t been easy keeping those boys away from her all this time. Now, according to her rhythm, she’s going to be most fertile tomorrow night. Tonight, I want you to go up there and fill my baby up with sperm. Give her as many loads as you can.” Then he looked at me with an odd expression on his face and he said, “You have been saving it up, haven’t you?” I nodded. As strange as the man’s request for me not to jack-off had been, for some reason I’d complied. He chuckled, then continued. “Then tomorrow morning, I’m gonna drive you two up to my cabin and leave you there. I figured it would be easier for her in her own room for the first time, with me here if anything goes wrong, rather than all alone with just you up at the cabin. But she knows that it’s just gonna be you two up-north until I’ll come and pick you up Tuesday morning.” Then, with a grin, he added, “ in plenty of time for you to work your shift that afternoon.” Somehow, he must have known that I had the next two days off, and didn’t have to be to work until four o’clock Tuesday afternoon. “Now, I know a kid your age makes a lot of spunk,” and he chuckled, “So give her what you can tonight, but remember, you’re gonna have the next two days to get a baby growing in her belly, so don’t wear her out too bad. And I don’t care if you use her mouth or her ass either, to get you going, ya know,” and I swear, he winked at me, “but when you shoot, I’d really appreciate it if you do it where it counts.” Before he went on, he made sure I knew about the sanitary concerns when it came to sticking my dick back in her pussy, after fucking her ass. Then, “Tom, if you can’t get my little girl pregnant in the next three days, then there’s something wrong with one of you. And just last month, my daughter had a full checkup, and they didn’t find anything wrong with her. In fact, the doctor told me that girls her age usually aren’t so regular with their cycles, which means that her body’s ready to start growing a baby.” Then he chuckled and continued, “And he also told me that when he got his little scope in her, that she’s got one of the biggest, thickest cherries he’s ever seen on a girl. So, when you go to pop it, be gentle.” His eyes went glassy again, and under his breath I heard him say, “If she wasn’t my own blood . . . ” then he looked back at me and, still in his hushed voice said, “Fuck, I envy you kid.”
“One last thing before I send you up to my little girl’s room,” I’d been fighting the growing bulge in my pants for the previous half-hour. All I wanted was to get upstairs and start fucking. “Now, I know I’m asking a lot of you, but just there’s just one more think, and if you don’t want to give it to me I’ll understand, but it will make things a whole lot easier when it comes time to fill-out the birth-certificate.” Well, he went on to say that while he would never ask me for anything ever again, it was only right that the baby’s father was listed in the county files. I thought about it a moment and tried not to laugh. The moment was mostly to make the man think I was actually deciding what to do, but it was also to get myself under control, so I wouldn’t blow it.
“My full name,” I said, hoping that if I did break, he’d think it was nerves and not realize it was all a lie, “is Thomas Aaron Stone, I was born on October 21st, 1966, in Akron, Ohio.” I even reached into my back pocket to grab my wallet, “I’ll show you my license if you want?” He scribbled the info I’d given him on a pad of paper, his other hand waving me off. I was glad that I didn’t have to show him the ID in my wallet. See, it wasn’t mine. I’d found Tom Stone’s Ohio driver’s license in a bar where I worked for a short time in Florida. The stats were just about right. According to his ID, Tom was six-foot even and weighed one-sixty. I was six-one and weighed one-seventy. We both had brown hair and blue eyes, and the small picture looked close enough to be believable. The only real issue was that Tom was nineteen, and I was twenty-four, but I looked young. And ever since I’d left Florida, I’d been using his name. I’d created a whole story for Tom Stone, how he’d just graduated from high-school and had taken-off to see a bit of the world, hitchhiking from here to there, finding work where he could. “I figure I’ll travel around the south while it’s cold up north, and maybe head out to California. I hear you only have to live there a year to get residence, then I can go to college for free.”
In reality, my name is Riley Ramsax and I was born and raised in Michigan. I’d already spent four years in college, and I’d dropped-out in my last semester, three months before I would have received my degree in psychology. Although, I suppose that if you asked anyone at the school, they’d have said that I’d gotten myself expelled. But the way I figure it, I stopped going to classes long before they told me to leave, so, I quit before they kicked me out. And in a way, my leaving college figured into the situation I now found myself in. See, I liked having sex. I know, who doesn’t, right? But the thing is, whenever I’d get a girl alone, especially the younger girls (man, I loved freshman-week), and they’d see what I have hanging between my legs, they’d freak-out. Now, at the risk of sounding conceited, I was blessed (or cursed, depending on how you look at it) with quite a large cock. I’ve seen bigger, mostly in porno mags and movies, and a couple in real life, but those were few and far between.
So, during my second year at the university, I was at a party and found myself alone in a dorm-room with this girl who was totally drunk. She was barely conscious when I whipped my dick out, and other than a few loud groans as I was shoving it in, she didn’t complain a bit. I came quick, but didn’t get soft, so I kept-on fucking her. I left her passed-out and naked on her bed, with three big loads of my cum dripping from her puffy, red pussy. When I saw her a couple days later, she looked right past me, like she didn’t recognize me at all. Then a couple months later, I heard that the girl was pregnant and leaving school, and the rumor was that she didn’t know (or she wasn’t saying) who the father was. I’m not sure how many drunk girls I fucked in the next couple years. I even did a little research on sedatives and tranquilizers, and experimented a bit with drugging girls, to have sex with them. Then, I guess it was toward the end of my Junior year, I actually met a girl I liked, who also liked me. After a few weeks, I found myself preparing for sex with a sober girl for the first time in ages. She did freak a bit, when she first saw my cock, but I assured her that I’d be gentle. But then she went and made me put a rubber on, which was too small and squeezed my dick way too much for comfort. So when I started to stick it in, she whined and cried, then when I finally got it in far enough to feel her cherry in the way and prodding at it a couple times, she made me stop. By that time, I didn’t give a shit. I ripped the rubber off my dick, moved up to her face and stuck my throbbing cock as I could into her mouth, and made her swallow my load within a minute. The last words that girl ever spoke to me (well, she was actually yelling and coughing a bit, with small globs of my cum leaving her mouth with her words) were, “You’re such a fucking asshole! I can’t believe I ever thought I loved you!” With those words against my back, I closed her dorm-room door behind me, deciding that I definitely preferred girls who were not quite so conscious.
Like I said, I didn’t keep count of all the girls I’d had my way with, but I’m guessing that there were probably around two-dozen in all. And, I’m fairly sure that most of them probably never said a word to anyone about waking-up naked and dripping with cum, after a long, drunken night. But when two pregnant girls showed up at the campus-health-center on the same day (after three more had been in over the previous couple months), all having claimed to have gotten drunk at a party and woken-up knowing that they’d been raped, well . . . I’m assuming that a lot of names were bandied around before I was called to the Dean’s office, and they really didn’t have any proof against me (this all happened back in the late ‘seventies, before there was reliable DNA testing and all that, and I was just dealing with university-security, no calls had been made to authorities off-campus), but as I (obviously) had no good alibi for the times they were asking, and seeing as how it had been over a month since I’d attended a class and then there was the small matter of my don’t-fucking-care attitude, it was decided that I should leave. Now, I’m not so vain to think that all those girls were carrying my baby. And there were a few other girls who, within a few months after ‘partying’ with me, would disappear. Some with rumors on improprieties, others leaving quietly and everyone wondering. And I’d actually stopped going after girls on campus, when I overheard a few people talking about a rapist on campus, who gets girls drunk, and had left several of his victims pregnant. That’s when I started to travel a little, and why I stopped going to classes, driving a couple hours each night to bar-hop in small towns, hoping to find vulnerable drunk girls (the younger, the better, mind you) to fuck. But bars were a different deal than college-parties. All the single girls went out in big groups, and it wasn’t easy to break one away, especially without really being noticed doing it.
Ok, I know I’ve gotten away from the story at hand, yet I hope you now understand how excited this whole thing made me. I was a Psych-major, and I knew that I had some issues. I liked fucking a girl without any shit about how much it was going to hurt, or having to wear a rubber, and it was really better for a girl to be out of it (especially if she’s a virgin) when I stick my big dick in her. And the way it usually happened, I shot a wad inside a girl quite quickly after getting my whole cock inside her. I’d just keep myself buried deep, letting my cum fill her. And knowing that I was deep in a cum-filled pussy was enough to keep my cock from going soft. Then I’d actually start to fuck her. I love hearing my cock sloshing around in a girl’s tight cunt. Now, sometimes I’d just fuck and shoot a second load deep in her, then I’d really take my time working-up to my third orgasm. Other times, after only shooting one load in her, I’d take it slow and easy for a while, occasionally fucking her with quick bursts of thrusts, taking my time, working myself up a bit, then slowing way down for a while (and sometimes, I’d even stop fucking all together and have a taste of her cum-filled pussy, before sticking my cock back in), taking my time, an hour or more, working up to one huge, mind-blowing, body-wracking come. Usually, when I only got-off one more time in a girl, I’d take her in all different positions, however her limp body would allow me to penetrate her, sometimes (if she was light enough) I’d pick her up and fuck her standing, or up against a wall. But either way, whether I shot two or three (or more) times, I made sure that when I was done with a girl, I’d spewed enough sperm into her to impregnate half-a-dozen girls. And if I really must admit it, the thought of making a baby in a girl’s belly was actually a turn-on for me. And by the time I ended-up scooping ice-cream for five-bucks an hour in the little down of Podunk, a good-days-drive south of the Mason-Dixon line, I figured that there had to be at least three or four (if not more) babies (or, I suppose even toddlers by then) out there somewhere made with my genes. So, while I know that my thinking might not be entirely healthy, my orgasms were so much better when I imagined my sperm swimming in and fertilizing her egg. That there was more to it all than just an explosive, mind and body numbing climax.
Now, with all that in mind, imagine how I was feeling as I stood there and looked at the beautiful young girl, dressed only in a small bit of flimsy silk and lace, both fear and excitement in her expression (and I have to admit that a bit more fear crept into her eyes when she noticed the bulge in my pants), hearing her father’s words ringing in my ears, “I want you to breed my little girl, Tom. I want a grand-baby. And I don’t want for some pimple-faced, pencil-dicked, local boy to knock her up either. God, I can’t even imagine some little fucker grunting and groaning and drooling all over her, humping at her like a dog on a bitch. That little girl in there deserves to get broken in by a real man, like you.” At one point, the man said, “And don’t worry if she makes a lot of noise,” with those words he looked at the lump between my legs, “I expect that she’ll be screaming like a banshee when you finally bust through that little girl’s cherry. She screams bloody-murder if she gets a paper-cut and from the looks of it, she’s gonna get quite a stretching tonight. So, don’t you worry yourself one little bit, even if she’s bawling at the top of her lungs for me, I will not disturb you!” he stressed his last five words. “That little girl is yours, for the next three days, and hopefully you’ve got some strong little swimmers to fill her up. Boy, I don’t care what you do to her, as long as the only scar she has to remember it is your baby growing in her belly.” So, like I said, what was I supposed to do?

“Hi,” I said after a moment, not really knowing what else to say, but feeling the need to say something. I couldn’t ever remember being this nervous, or this horny.
“Hi,” she returned, drawling that one little word out with her cute, southern twang. I think she sensed my nervousness, because her expression changed and, while I could still see a bit of excitement in her eyes, any fear seemed to have disappeared. “Y’all know y’ don’t have to stay over there by the door,” I took a step toward her, then a look of what I saw as concern came over her face. I hesitated, but when I heard what she had to say, I moved right over to her, “My daddy told me what we’re gonna do. And he told me that I have to do whatever you say. I’m glad it’s you, Tommy. I know I don’t know you real good, but I like the way you look at me. ‘You have kind eyes,’ that’s what I told my daddy when I first saw you the other day.”
“You are beautiful,” I said, taking her small body in my arms, softly kissing her warm, red lips. I felt her go limp in my embrace and I kissed her a bit harder. She responded, moving only hear head against mine, the rest of her body still supported by my arms. I thought she was going to pull back, at first, when I started pushing my tongue between her lips, even her body went a bit rigid. But in that moment of hesitance, I moved a hand to the back of her head, keeping our mouths locked together, as I pushed even harder at her lips. They soon opened, and I was exploring the inside of her mouth with my tongue. Now, she was a good foot shorter than me, she maybe stood five-one, or two, and if she weighed a hundred pounds I’d have been surprised. And to kiss her, I had to lean down quite a bit, bowing my body out, away from hers. Well, I just had to feel this beautiful teenaged girl against my body, so kissing her a bit deeper, and wrapping my arms tightly around her, I stood straight. With our lips together, her body dangled against me. I could feel my cock pressing through my pants and against her warm flesh. I could feel her little boob-buds pushing through her silk tank-top and through my shirt. Fuck! I couldn’t believe my luck!
I had to see her naked. I broke her kiss and set her back down on her feet, then stepped back just a bit and looked at her. She was looking back up at me, her chest heaving and I swear she was blushing. “You daddy told you what I’m going to do to you then?” Her face turned even redder, and she nodded. “And he told you to do whatever I said, right?” If possible, she blushed even deeper, but still nodded. “So, if I told you to take off your top, you’d do it, right?” As an answer, she reached down and pulled the silk and lace top over her head. I saw that her whole upper chest was flushed red, and so were her little nipples. Oh Fuck! The girl barely had any tits at all, except for the two bumps, covered by dark rings, maybe the size of a nickle, capped off with little nipples no bigger than a pencil-eraser, though much a much darker pink. And as I watched her frilly pink top flutter to the floor, I realized that this was the first time a girl had taken off her clothes for me, rather than me taking them off her.
I took another step back and asked her to take her shorts off. She hesitated, but only a moment, before she went even more red in the face and chest, pushing her remaining item of clothing to the floor. She barely had any hair growing between her hips, just a tiny puff at the top of her slit. And what a slit it was. I could just barely see the pink folds under the outer-lips, which seemed so firmly pressed together, I wondered if I was going to have trouble getting my big cock between them. Damn, she was perfect. I couldn’t help but stand there and gawk at her. She was like a dream come true. Now, I’ll admit that I’d been with some young girls before. I know that a few of the girls I had in college were maybe only fifteen or sixteen, rather than eighteen or nineteen like they told me. However, I knew well enough to leave girls her age alone. And even now, as I stood there looking at her, a small gold cross and chain around her neck, and a small diamond in the lobe of each of her ears was all she was wearing. That and a shy and somewhat determined expression on her pretty face. Oh, man, I was aching. I wanted her bad. And I had her father’s permission, and encouragement to do with her as I pleased. Now, like I’ve said, I’ve done as I pleased with many girls. All of them drunk, and several of them drugged, to a point where they couldn’t stop me from doing as I pleased. And while it happened quite often that a girl regained lucidity as I fucked her, none had ever been able to stop me, usually dropping back off into semi, or unconsciousness. So, not only was this girl younger than any I’d ever had before, she was also going to be completely aware of what was happening. And at least this first time with her, I wanted it to be as different as possible from every other girl I’d fucked.
“You’re going to do anything I ask you, right?”
She responded with a soft, “Yes, sir.” That in itself sent a throb of hot blood to my already-rigid cock. I pretended I didn’t hear her and before she spoke again, she looked me right in the eye first, and in a louder and somewhat more confident voice, she repeated, “Yes, sir.” I throbbed again. Shit, I hoped I could keep myself from shooting in my pants. I wanted to play with her for a little while, before I got inside her and started blowing my load. But man, it wasn’t going to be easy. I was so fucking hot, remember, it had been almost thirty-six hours since I’d gotten-off, and with this beautiful, naked girl standing there, calling me ‘sir,’ and her daddy wanted her pregnant, and she said she’d do whatever I wanted . . . I needed to slow down. I took a breath, my eyes never leaving her body, though moving all over it. I wanted to be naked too. Now, I realize that keeping myself from climaxing too soon would have probably been easier with my clothes on. However, in the same way I’d never had a girl take her own clothes off before, never had a girl taken my clothes off me. With an unconscious girl, if I wanted to get naked with her (which I almost always did, unless I was somewhere that I might have to escape from quickly) I had to take my own clothes off. I moved around her and, with a quick adjustment inside my boxers, I sat on the edge of her bed. She stood where she was, not moving and I was now looking at her backside. Fuck! She was just as beautiful from this view. There was barely any meat on her bones, and other than her long hair she could have been a boy from behind.
“Turn around,” I said, trying to keep my voice from sounding as nervous or excited as I was feeling. She did and, with a quick look right into my eyes, she looked down. “Come stand right here,” I said, and she had to look up some to see that I was pointing right between my knees. As she slowly moved toward me, I settled myself so that my ass was at the very edge of the mattress. I was surprised that my movement did little to shake the bed. With the girl between my legs, standing there naked and shivering a little, me sitting on her sturdy bed, which was rather high, so that my head was still slightly over hers, I finally tore my eyes off the girl and looked around her room. Other than that it was very pink, I really hadn’t noticed much else. In one corner was a fluffy, pink chair with a reading-lamp on a table next to it. In the other corner was a small (pink) desk with a (pink) plastic chair sitting at it. The only other feature in the room (other than a couple posters of horses and kittens on the pink-painted walls) was her bed. It was a big, solid queen-sized bed with a big, carved-wood footboard, with two thick pedestal rising from it. The head board was even bigger, and it also sprouted pedestals, which reached toward the high ceiling. And I noticed that over the four posts of the big bed was hung light pink netting for a canopy. Her pillows were encased in pink, though a different pink than the bedspread. And if you’d have asked me right then and there, I’d have bet everything I had (which wasn’t much at all) that the sheets would be pink too.
I spread my arms and she moved in like I was going for a hug, but before we touched, I managed to say, “Take my shirt off me.” She backed-off some and looked at me. I tried as best as I could to make my eyes look kind. Then, her small fingers shaking a bit, she started unbuttoning my shirt. Now usually, I was a jeans and t-shirt kind of guy, but I did own one pair of dress-slacks and one dress-shirt (but no necktie!) and that’s what I was wearing that night. Of course, I had a t-shirt under my good-shirt, which considering how hot I was and how much I was sweating, I was very glad for. In order to get the last two buttons undone, she had to pull the front of my shirt out of my pants, which also made her look down there, which made her blush even more. When that shirt was off, I raised my arms. She looked at me just a moment, before she started pulling my t-shirt over my body.
Ok, so I was twenty-four, almost twenty-five at the time, not nineteen like I’d said, and I did have a fair amount of hair on my chest and stomach. And, like the hair everywhere else on my body, it was dark, which I think makes it look like there is more than there really is, but anyway, she was fascinated by it. Even before she pushed my t-shirt over my head, I could feel her hands lightly touching my hairy torso. When I was finally bare from the waist-up, she held one hand to her mouth, as her other hand lightly roamed over my chest and stomach. I sat there with my arms stretched wide, giving her full access to do as she wished for now. After all, I figured that since she was conscious and it was her first-time, she might as well have a little fun too. Not that I wasn’t enjoying it, I mean, a naked young girl touching a hairy chest for the first time . . .
But then she said something that, well, it didn’t ruin the mood, and it really didn’t enhance it, I guess it just changed it. “Daddy’s got a little hair on his chest, but it ain’t nothing like what you got. His is all soft, yours feels,” and as she thought, I felt her fingers bury deeper into the thick, dark hair between my pectorals, “I don’t know, rough, more like the hair Daddy’s got down there.” And with that, she pointed straight down, at the big lump in my pants. Of course, the thought that popped into my mind at that moment was, How does she know that her father’s pubic-hair feels rough?, which made yet another throb of hot blood to rush between my legs, the movement of that throb was obvious to both of us. She gasped and I chuckled. Instead of asking her how she knew the feel of her daddy’s pubes, I decided to finish my quest to have the girl strip me.
I about told her to start-in on my pants, then remembered that she’d have to take my boots off first. She knelt in front of me, once I told her what I wanted and raised my foot off the floor for her. And when she knelt, her legs spread and so did her all-but bare gash. I finally saw the rich, pink folds of her inner pussy-lips and the throb it caused nearly pushed me over the edge . . .

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