I turned around, wrapped my arms around his neck, and pressed my lips to his. I felt his arms wrap around me and pull me close to him. I could feel his still wet cock pressing against my stomach and dress. I knew it would leave a stain, but I didn’t care. No one would see me before I went home.
I walked him to the door, then handed him my number. Just before he walked out, he leaned in and kissed me deeply. I started hoping no one was watching, but I kissed him back then spanked his ass as he walked out the door.
I went into the bathroom after locking the door and tried to clean up as best as I could. I wanted to look in my purse, but talked myself out of it. I would wait the six hours and surprise myself.
The rest of the day went by slower than the morning, anticipating pulling out my diaphragm to see whether he really did have a shot at getting me pregnant or not.
I was a nervous wreck by the time I got home. I made us dinner then sat down to watch some TV. I decided I would take it out before I went to bed. I loved the feeling of not knowing which one I had used. I even refrained from telling my husband about it.
That night, just before bed, I walked into the bathroom. I slipped my panties down to my ankles. I stared at myself in the mirror, my hand instinctively went to my lower abdomen and started rubbing it, hoping that I had picked out the old, worn out diaphragm, and his long cock had pierced right through it, implanting his seed deep inside of my womb.
I spread my legs, then slipped my fingers inside of me until I felt the thick band on the edge of the diaphragm inside of me. I closed my eyes as I hooked my fingers behind it, feeling it separate from my abused cervix and slip out of me.
Once I had it in my hand, I opened my eyes, and my mouth dropped. Somehow I had managed to grab the new, clear one. I started inspecting it, to see if it had torn, and to my dismay, it hadn’t. I sat down on the toilet and started to plan my next tryst with the UPS guy.
I told my husband the news when he returned home from his trip. Needless to say he was so horny, we barely left the bed all weekend long. He tried to get me to take the diaphragm out with him, but I wouldn’t budge. He did ask me when the next time I plan to see him again was.
I told him I didn’t know, but I was really disappointed that my “plan” failed the way it did.
He told me to keep trying. It is after all a 50/50 chance, but he loved that I was leaving it up to chance.
I told him I had hoped to pull it out and find that I had used the worn one.
He asked what was different about it.
I told him that it was a little brittle, and when you put water in it, it allowed a little to leak through. I also told him that it could break completely with the right force, allowing all of the semen to fill my womb and make me pregnant.
Just talking about it got him so worked up that he fucked me over and over. It was like he was a kid again and his cock never went down. He must have cum 15 times that weekend. I was a little sad when he packed his clothes for the coming weeks trip.
The next few weeks flew by, with no opportunity to be alone with my “Guy”, as I liked to call him. He did work up the nerve to call me, then we started texting pretty regularly. He was so worked up over the whole affair, that it didn’t take him long to start asking me when we would see each other again.
He confessed to me that he had never been with a white girl, and that his ultimate fantasy was to cum inside of one.
It made me feel soo good to be able to be his dream come true. I told him we would be together again, when the time was right.
He kept asking me over to his place or to meet at night, but I couldn’t get away. Needless to say he was a little disappointed.
A few weeks after our tryst at the office, I got my period, which confirmed that he didn’t knock me up. I was a little more emotional that week, luckily my husband was away on business the entire time. I found myself crying for no reason in the morning, and my sex drive had all but vanished.
Once my period ended, I started working on my plan for my next meeting. I thought about having him use a condom, and ripping it off of him, or just not using anything, and just tell him that I was protected. I also thought about just telling him I wanted to have his baby, and that my Husband and I would raise it.
One night, when I was alone in my room texting him, I let slip that my husband wasn’t the father of our baby. That lead into a long conversation which lead me to telling him the truth about what had happened that night.
I dreaded him putting 2 and 2 together and asking me if that was what he wanted to do now, but he didn’t. I breathed a sigh of relief when I crawled into bed and fell asleep.
The next few days he did start questioning me about whether I ever wanted to have another baby or not, and would it be my husband’s or someone else’s. I almost told him that I did and that he was going to be the daddy, but I chickened out and told him that I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
Over the course of the next few days, it seemed our conversation gravitated back to me getting pregnant again. I didn’t tell him and he didn’t come out and say it, but I started to get the feeling he wanted to get me pregnant.
He did ask if anything had happened when we had had sex, and I had to tell him “no,” but that was as far as it went, which relieved me. It seemed every time he would bring the subject up, my pussy would start getting wet, which was almost every minute of every day. I didn’t mind it all and it even started me thinking about what our next encounter would be like, if we ever got one.
That weekend, though, my husband brought me bad news. It seemed they had to work a show the following weekend on the other side of the country. He wouldn’t need to leave until Wednesday, but he wouldn’t be home until Monday this time.
I was sad and disappointed in the news. He tried to make it up to me by asking me to join him, but I couldn’t leave for that long. He then invited me for the weekend, but he knew that wouldn’t work either.
“Why don’t you get your mom to watch the baby one evening, and go out with your friends?” He suggested.
I told him I might, but we would have to see.
That Monday was the first time my husband had stayed home with the baby all day by himself. I was able to relax and get ready for work and not have to rush around. It felt so good. When I started texting my “Guy”, I told him I might have an evening free this coming weekend and that if he was free, we might be able to meet up for a little while.
He was all for that, then started asking when I would have to be home by. I told him we would see, then asked which night worked best for him. It turned out he was leaving on Saturday around noon for training, so it was settled that if I could find someone to watch my baby, we would meet up somewhere Friday night.