Up to this point all my stories have contained someone or something I had first hand knowledge of. I find myself in uncharted waters with this endeavor, it is solely my imagination.
*****
I sat on the chair off to the side of the end of our bed staring at my lovely naked wife. Being six months pregnant the baby bump had become a small hill. Her breasts had enlarged, the areola/nipple area had not only gotten bigger, but darker as well. We'd known each other since 4th grade but had only been married just under two years. I often marveled as to why I'd been graced with my sweet Grace. She was the looker, I was the nerd.
We had shared our first ever boy/girl kiss during Sandy Stones birthday party at the ripe old age of 11. It was ten minutes before the party was to end, it was also the end of our pre-pubescent romance. We remained close through middle school, me being a nerd in every sense of the word I was picked on and picked at a lot. Grace would step in and save my bacon so to speak, to the extent of punching Mike Wilson in the nose once.
Her dad was transferred to Japan in our eighth-grade year, I was left to fight my own battles. My dad enrolled me in a self-defense course, not only did I gain confidence from the class, I began to grow into my body. By my sophomore year in high school I had bulked up, was 6'2", weighed in at 235, and though I still wore my nerdy glasses and excelled in my bookwork, I was no longer picked on.
I was the classical nerd right down to the pocket protector for my pens. What no one saw or knew was that as I had grown bigger, it wasn't only my height and shoulders, my cock had grown as well, being a solid 8" when hard. It was late in the school year that I saw a girl I thought I knew. It took a few days to figure out it was Grace, her father had transferred back to our town. She had no idea who I was, my metamorphosis was such that I looked entirely different. Someone apparently told her and on Thursday of that week she sat across from me at lunch.
"Malcolm, is that really you? It's Gracie, do you remember me?"
"I remember you Grace, how could I forget the first girl I ever kissed, and the last I might add. Girls are into jocks, not nerds."
Our friendship picked up right where it had stopped when she moved away. We walked together if both were going the same way, if she was overloaded I would carry her books, we would text and occasionally talk on the phone. At that point there was nothing romantic about us, we were good friends and nothing more. In our junior year Grace started dating one of the jocks and our visits dwindled to almost never. I accepted it and went on.
Grace and I didn't see each other much after that, I was lost in my books, she was lost in Timmy Shepard. We hugged at graduation and then went what I thought was our separate ways. Little did I know I'd run into her at a party my sophomore year in college. I never drank much, having gotten drunk once in high school I hated the loss of control and made sure I never got that way again. I love the taste of a good beer, but I also know when to stop.
Grace wasn't being as careful. She was walking with some frat guy who had his arm around her shoulders squeezing her tit. From the grimace on her face I knew she wasn't very pleased but seemed too wasted to stop it. I walked over, took his hand by the wrist and moved it off her tit. He got all puffy, all I had to do was deflect his worthless effort at a swing toward my face and push him backward. He went ass over tea kettle falling onto a coffee table.
Taking Grace's arm I asked, "You ready to get out of here, or are you with him?"
"I'm not with him, I only met him tonight."
I took Grace for coffee, as she sobered up she wanted breakfast at midnight. That sounded good to me as well, by the time we left it was after one. She told me where she lived and I dropped her off, her telling me she'd text me soon. Her soon and my soon are obviously two different things as I never heard from her again until mid-way in the second semester of our senior year. Her text appeared desperate, asking me to please come get her at a given address. Ending with the word hurry in capitols.
Having delivered pizza's my freshman year I knew exactly where it was and raced there. It was a party for sure, loud music, lots of beer and wine. I kept looking but couldn't see her anywhere. I finally asked a guy, his response sent me into a rage.
"That must be the bitch they took upstairs for a gang bang."
I ascended those stairs three at a time, seeing one closed door I barged through to find five guys with their cocks out and one terrified Grace on the bed. Clothes torn, sobbing and calling my name. I was pissed, so full of rage I didn't care who I hurt and started swinging, after the first two went down the others backed off. I was as angry at Grace as I grabbed her arm and drug her down the stairs.
"Where's your purse Grace?" She pointed toward a closet, I fumbled through them until she yelled it was hers. I took her out the door and tossed her into my car. Her blouse was torn open with her tiny tits on display. They'd gotten her jeans off and she had nothing below but a pair of ultra-tiny black lace panties, so I took my hoodie off and put it around her shoulders. We drove to my apartment, I picked her up in my arms and carried her to my flat.
The super was walking by and said something about no guests after midnight. I told him to fuck off. In the apartment I put her butt on the toilet, gave her a waste basket and told her to get that shit out of her stomach. She stood, slid her panties down around her ankles, quickly sat and peed a rain storm. I stuck my finger down her throat and held her hair back as she puked a quart or more of rancid bile. I had all I could do not to throw up just smelling it.
I had a washcloth ready to clean her face, I was ready to lift her off the toilet when she asked me to wipe her pussy. What the hell, in for a dime, in for a dollar. I took a few folds, patted her vulva and stood her up.
"Where are your panties Grace?"
"I don't know, they were here when I took them off." I thought to myself, well no shit Dick Tracy.
I put her on my bed, dug out one of my tee's, stripped her the rest of the way, slipped the shirt on, and put her under the covers where she instantly went to sleep.
I slept on the couch, when I woke I couldn't get the sight of her proud little titties out of my head, or the soft triangle of fur between her legs. I noticed it extended down along the sides of her labia a little bit. I was so turned on thinking about it I had a hardon. I found her panties behind the toilet, they were a mess, I looked at the size and ran over to Kohls. I found a three pack of cotton bikini panties and decided they'd have to do. As traumatic as her night had been I expected her to sleep late, which she did, not waking until nearly noon.
I knew she was awake when I heard her screech. Must have figured out she was naked beneath the shirt. As she stumbled out she looked confused.
I looked at her, "Good morning. Are you feeling better this morning?"
"Malcolm, where the fuck are my clothes? Why am I naked under this shirt and why the hell am I in your apartment?"
"Well thank you very little, you snooty bitch. I could have left you to be gang raped. As for your clothes, you had no bra, your blouse is torn apart, you had no pants on, your panties are a soaked mess, and it was you who texted me in desperation. There are clean dry panties in the dryer, help yourself."
I showed her the laundry area, she dug out the panties and slipped a pair on.
