Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 10

“Ha-a-a-ppy birthday, Princess!” George shouted as he came out of the bathroom. He always got up about eight, showered, shaved, and then woke me. He pampered me and let me sleep “to keep my strength up for long sexy nights” was the way he phrased it.

“Goddam, you do look radiant. Sheri, even when you wake up first thing in the morning. And that is the acid test for a woman. Most of ’em don’t look worth a shit without three hours at a makeup table. C’mon, get up, get up. We gotta go get your birthday present. I told ’em at the office I was takin’ the day off for your birthday.”

As I slipped out of bed and went to the bathroom, I could hear George fixing our morning coffee, and I thought how happy I’d been the past two years, four months and three days that we’d been together. He had worked hard at his job of selling, and even harder at his job as “my husband”, and I felt as if I were sitting on top of the world. He had promised me an extra — specially nice present for my birthday, although I told him his love was all the present I wanted. He’d been real swell about buying me all the clothes and jewelry I needed, and we were actually in pretty good shape. He handled all the money, and I never wanted for a thing. My old life was behind me and I’d never be a loser again. Life was beautiful.

And I had a surprise for him. Today was going to be a day for both of us to remember, I could see that. As soon as I’d showered and dressed and got to the kitchen, George announced my birthday present.

“A brand-new bright-yellow Stingray convertible, baby! How does that sound? And I’ve got the cash to pay for it in full right here. And it’ll go in your name — your very own car, lover. Does that show you I love you?” He was happy as a six-year-old with his first electric train. He was always happy when he gave me things.

“Oooooooh, George! That’s perfect, darling!” I yelled, and kissed him extra hard. He’d taught me to drive about five months ago, and I just loved sports cars and convertibles, so this was a dream come true. And I had news for him.

“I’ve got something for you, too, lover,” I said, excited at my good news.

“What’s that, hon?” he asked, sipping his coffee.

“We’re going to have a baby, George! Won’t that be…”

I broke off, for he had spluttered his coffee all over the table and he slammed his cup down.

“You’re WHAT!!!” he shrieked. “No fuckin’ way, baby!”

“But George…” I started to protest.

“BULLSHIT!! No cunt’s gonna trap me with another brat, I’ve told you and told you. You dumb bitch, did you think I was kiddin’?” I’d never seen such a fierce look in George’s eyes before, nor heard that menacing tone. “What the fuck happened — the pill didn’t work? I thought it was a hundred percent.”

“I… I… well, I, uh, yeah, it’s supposed to be, but they gave me those headaches and I was always throwin’ up, George, so I thought…”

“Jesus Kee-rist! Who told you to think, cunt? Goddamm it to hell, kid, you ain’t got no brains, none at all, except in that fight little box of yours. All your thinkin’ should be done with your hot snatch — there, you’re a genius. Anywhere else, you’re an idiot and a loser. Aww-w-w-w, shit! This blows it!” He mashed his cigarette out fiercely and stood up, dumping over his chair in his anger. “I’ll be back when I cool off. See ya!” and he stomped out of the house.

When we’d first started living together, he had told me how having four kids in three years had wrecked his first marriage — he just didn’t like kids — and his last wife had had four abortions — actually three, and one miscarriage — and had been un-fuckable, as he phrased it, half the time, and had kept him broke with doctor bills the other half, and he blamed it all on pregnancies. So we’d gotten on the pill right away, but the side effects bothered me a lot. I knew he didn’t want to hear me griping and complaining all the time, so he of course didn’t realize how I felt. But I had thought that by now he’d really like to have a small family, so I’d been proud of the fact that I was going to make a father of him. The subject of kids hadn’t been discussed since that very first time when we first got together. Ah, shit! I thought as I sat morosely at the kitchen table.

I sat and waited, sat and waited, even cried a little a couple of times. Everything was going so damn well, and now this. Oh, hell. Then about noon Jack Larson, a salesman buddy of George’s knocked. When I let him in, telling him that George wasn’t here, he told me.

“Yeah, I know. He looked me up, gave me this note, and sent me over for his stuff. I’ll pack it. He told me what to bring.” He headed for the bedroom as I opened the note and read it.

“Sheri,” it said. “I told you there was only one no-no in our relationship: kids. O.K., you thought you’d trap me with a brat, but you guessed wrong, baby. You are the most perfect sex partner I’ve ever known or ever will find, probably, but you still got a lot to learn about men. Good luck wherever you go. Here’s a hundred bucks to get started on. That’s it, baby. I refuse to be a pigeon for any broad.” As I finished rereading it and it penetrated to my numbed mind, Jack left the house with two suitcases and I just sat there sobbing. My perfect day had turned to a mountain of shit. Happy birthday, Loser!

I won’t bore you with the mess that the next six months turned into. I had never worked, knew no trade, couldn’t type or file, so I ended up slinging hash in a crummy dump on McDowell St. My “husband” was in the Army, I told everyone, and even though I pinched pennies and cut corners, I could see that my baby’d be born in County General. Then Gladys, an older, sorta hard cookie that worked with me told me, because I’d confided to her that I didn’t want the baby, and that my “husband” had written from overseas that he was not coming back to me, well, she told me about this adoption thing. If they accepted you, they’d pay your living expenses the last couple of months, cover your doctor and hospital bills, and take care of you for a couple months after the baby was born, to let you get on your feet.

Gladys knew of a friend of a friend who’d gone that route, and came out of it pretty well, signing over the baby to a nice responsible couple. She put me in touch with a lawyer on North Central who handled it, and when I went to see him, he accepted me. He referred me to a doctor who examined me, and then scheduled me for what he said was a detailed diagnosis. When I showed up for that, his nurse put me under sodium pentothal, he examined me, and a week later the attorney wrote me and asked me to come to his office for some final details.

When. I entered his office, he met me at the door and as I walked in, he shut and locked the door. He motioned me to a chair in front of his desk and came and stood in front of me, lounged back against his desk, and unzipped his trousers and tugged out his cock.

“Suck it!” he commanded sharply, and I guess I just sat there with my mouth open. “C’mon, Sheri, I want a blow job! NOW!” He leaned forward toward my face, which was just at his crotch level, and put his long, limp cock in my hands while I tried to think what to do. What the hell was going on here? What did he think I was? He answered that.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he urged. “You aren’t Mrs. Collins, or even close to it — you’re Sheri Jackson and you’re a runaway from probation. Now you can either cooperate or by God you get sent back. And you’ll go to reform school for three or four years if you go back to Iowa. So quit stallin’, baby. You’re no Goddam cherry, so quit playin’ hard to get.” His smooth attorney’s veneer was gone, and he was just another dirty old man.

“I… how did… you find out?” I stammered.

“Shit! Simple. Like you, dummy. That sodium pentothal examination is a deal I have with the doc. He probes with truth serum, and passes on the goodies, all the information, to me. We work together. C’mon now, get with it — you ain’t losin’ a damn thing but a few minutes’ time, hon.”

I didn’t like the circumstances at all, but as I had sat there talking and holding his cock, my warm hands had apparently communicated my feminine touch to him, and his meat had hardened perceptibly. I had been without any sex for a couple of months, and nature took over. My brain began to pound and my gut ached as I fondled his long slim cock tenderly. It was a funny-looking pecker, different from any that I’d experienced. It was about eight inches long — limp — and no bigger around than my thumb, and he wasn’t circumcised. As I petted it and got ready to kiss it and suck it, I could feel the blood rushing through and into it, and it stiffened up rapidly. But it didn’t get any bigger! It was still an eight-inch skinny cock! It ended up looking like a big expensive cigar — long and maybe only an inch in diameter, with this fold of skin over the tip.

I smiled up at him — to be frank, I damn near laughed at the sight of his cock — and he took that for encouragement. Well, hell yes, I was going to blow him. I was blackmailed into not being able to say no, plus the simple fact that I did want some sex. Christ, pregnant or not, I just couldn’t go too long without it.

As I bent my head to get at his tool, he settled his hips against the desk firmly, and my little hands grasped his weapon like a kind of skinny ball bat. I let my hands slide backwards along his shaft, and the skin was rolled back to display a shiny pointed glans that glistened before my face. I had always seen brownish-purple heads on pricks, and this new shiny pink one intrigued me, and I wondered if it’d taste different. I’d soon find out.

The instant I touched the head with my hot wet tongue, he tensed, and I pulled back, licked my lips liberally, and encircled the pink head with my lips. I suctioned on the thin, hard lollipop, bobbing my head very briefly to let it enter my mouth, and then my tongue took over, and I flashed and fucked it hotly back and forth along the underside of his glans. Then, as I let go with my hands to get a better grip, I felt the roll of skin that I had peeled back earlier come sliding forward. My tongue was trapped and surrounded by the warm silken fold of cock skin as his tool returned to its enveloped style. I liked the sensation, and let his cock alone with my hands so that I could delve farther back and cuddle his balls. His bag hung down six inches or more, and his nuts were simply enormous — they felt like tennis balls, only a lot heavier.

By now I was getting hotter and hotter, and I wanted as much of his pencil-slim rod in me as I could get, although it was pretty damned long. I quit jouncing his balls and grabbed the base of his cock again and yawned widely and leaned forward. As more and more of his tool slipped into my hungry mouth, I kept bathing the rigid length of it with a rapidly swishing tongue, bobbing my head fiercely as I withdrew, then took more than the last stroke, withdrew, inhaled farther yet, and thus kept absorbing more and more of its length until I felt his bristly hairs hitting my forehead and eyes. By now his long rod was bending at the head when it hit the back of my throat and the roof of my mouth, and just as I’d start to feel a gagging sensation I’d raise my head, catch my breath, and then as I got the rhythm that any good cocksucker eventually develops, I would breathe in through my mouth as I withdrew, and exhale through my nose as I gulped his stiff meat into my cheeks and mouth.

I felt his loins tighten up, and knew that I was making it so good for him that he wouldn’t be able to hold off much longer, so I braced myself and got ready to take his load of come into my mouth. I’d never yet swallowed any that wasn’t delicious and warm and rich and creamy, and I’d gotten so addicted to it that I never thought of pulling out and jacking a man off to finish the job. Hell, it was just like warm, melted vanilla ice cream, I always thought.

Then he came, and I felt his hands entangle themselves in my hair and rudely haul me up tight to his gut to ram every millimeter down my throat. I felt the rubbery-rigid bending of his cock as it hit the top of my throat and penetrated downward a couple of inches. It was all I could do to keep breathing as I felt a scalding stream of sperm shoot across my tonsils and into my stomach. It was one long hot jet, not in spurts like I was used to, and it felt as if a thin hard firehose had blasted off. Then, instantly, his cock went limp in my mouth, and although the head of it was still crammed deep into my gulping throat, I had not really had to swallow any of his jism, for it was shot clear down into my stomach at the first heated blast, and now that his meat was limp again, it felt like a soft long rope in my mouth. I gnawed gently and contentedly on the shaft as I ran my tongue along it and then sucked my cheeks in and out rapidly to massage it to total drainage I hadn’t even tasted his cum, it had been spat so far past my taste buds when it ejected.

I pulled my head away from his dangling cock, and took it with my thumb and forefinger clear back at the base of the shaft and waved it slowly back and forth. It intrigued the hell out of me — I’d never seen one just like that before, and I enjoyed playing with it. He patted my head.

“Sheri, my doll, that was just wonderful. You are a marvelous little cocksucker, and we’re going to get along just great in the coming months — and I mean coming months.”

“As you get bigger and bigger during your pregnancy, fucking won’t be so good, but I prefer a fine blow job anyway, so it’ll work out real well. As far as taking care of you, the doctor loves to screw cunt, so he’ll take care of you while you’re taking care of him and me both. Not a bad arrangement, is it? And a couple months after the baby’s born and adopted we’ll set you up and take care of you real well. How does that sound?”

I nodded. What the hell else could I do but agree? I sure didn’t want to get sent back to reform school, and I’d need some sex, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna try to make a living all my life slinging hash — I’d found that out the hard way already, so… I figured if I had a doctor and an attorney keeping me for a mistress, I’d be doing a lot better than out on my own. I was beginning to realize how dumb it was in a lot of things. Only one thing I was halfway smart at, and the men all thought I was a genius there, so why not capitalize on it?

The attorney explained what my setup would be — I would have a weekly doctor’s appointment, and Doc could fuck me in his office then, and a weekly appointment with him, the lawyer, and I’d blow him in his office. It worked out real well, and the Doc was good and slow and gentle with me. I was only five months along, but my belly was pretty big, or at least it seemed so to me, who’d always been and slim. But the doc showed me the best ways — from the rear, so only half of the cock goes in, and lying on my side, so his weight isn’t on my belly, and so forth. We had a ball.

The last month of my pregnancy we cut out the fucking, although Doc did scrub me up a couple of times and ate my cunt so that I’d have some fun and some release from the tremendous tension that any girl would naturally experience when she’s having her first kid, all alone, miles from home — if you could call what I’d had a home — and knowing she’ll have to go through all the pain and agony of childbirth just to give it away to some strangers. Well, no use feeling sorry for myself — I got into the mess and had to make the best of it somehow. So that’s what I did.

I signed the adoption papers the day before I went to St. Joseph’s Hospital. Yeah, I got the best medical care. They filled out the papers with everything except the date and the sex of the baby — that’d be done as soon as he was born.