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My Josh is a man of strong principles. That's what first attracted me to him. Well, OK, that and his six-five frame, broad muscled shoulders, tight butt, gray-blue eyes and a respectable bulge between his legs. He was just the yummiest strong-principled man I had ever seen.
I met Josh at an ecological protest rally. I had ducked out from work at the diner where I waitressed to go down to the Washington Monument that afternoon. Seeing on television those poor little baby seals being clubbed to death right in front of their mothers just broke my heart. I mean, how could anybody be so CRUEL? Josh was opposed to the seal slaughter, too, but he was at the protest for lots of other reasons having to do with the corrupt capitalist system, the rapacious (what words he knew!) corporate establishment, and things like that.
I just nodded and gazed through those goofy glasses into his eyes in the little coffee shop after the rally. I could feel myself getting wet as Josh talked passionately to me about pollution, resource degradation (another one!) and why it was best that married couples not have children. Huh? He explained that a baby born in a rich country would use up an immense quantity of resources in a lifetime. That's why we had to stop the world's population explosion.
Ah, population explosion! Now there was a subject that engaged my attention. I had always known I wanted a big family. One look at Josh and I knew I'd never find a better set of genes. I began planning for Josh to help me start a little population explosion of my own.
Besides being yummy, as I have said, Josh also turned out to be brilliant (I'll bet you could already tell) and, when I got him a little drunk, quite funny. Best of all -- JACKPOT! -- Josh was a totally normal healthy male that I could turn on like pushing a button. It's no credit to me; any girl as top heavy as me with long raven curls and my tiny waste could have done the same, but I got him first.
Josh was a little apprehensive on our second date when I coyly suggested he could come up to my apartment for a little while. He might not have done it except during the movie, when I picked up his hand and put it up inside my blouse, he felt a nice hard set of tits and no brassiere. Playing with my nipples had him almost as horny as it had me.
It probably wasn't necessary, but I didn't take any chances. Just before coming back from the kitchen with a cold beer for Josh, I ran my hand into my (surprise!) dripping pussy and painted the glass rim with my secretions. Nothing like the smell of a horny twat to get a guy's engine in gear. I had prepared for this evening by wearing a short but not too tight skirt, a frilly blouse, and no panties. Of course I didn't expect a really nice boy like Josh would have his hands up between my legs as we sat on my couch, but then I didn't intend for him to be really nice boy very much longer.
You don't need a blow by blow, do you?. He drank and sniffed. I snuggled. He felt -- really well. My blouse came off and my titties got kissed. His pants came down and his prick got fondled. He diddled. I came. I spent the night fucking his brains out. When I felt him get hard again after coming in me a third time, I knew this was the man for me.
He was happy but embarrassed the next morning to realize what he'd "made me" do. (To this day the lovable hunk thinks he seduced *me*!) I was in love; I really was. It took me about another two months of fucking Josh's eyeballs out, oops, of "letting him go all the way with me" for him to realize he wanted to marry me.
The positive pregnancy test helped a lot.
Josh was upset. Not that he wasn't in love with me by then or that he didn't think he could support me. (He knew from the start I wasn't the career-girl type.) No, he was upset because in principle he was against couples having babies. For nine months I heard anguished laments about CO2 buildup and specie extinction and resource depletion, (I was learning the lingo), but there was never any thought of abortion. We agreed on that 100%.
I was about seven months pregnant before we could get the wedding organized. All of the groomsmen were Josh's friends, nice, serious young men like him, so there was none of the ribaldry you might expect at a wedding where the bride's belly arrived at the alter before she did. Of course all the bridesmaids were *my* friends and so several groomsmen lost their virginity after (one during) the wedding reception. In the following months Josh and I started getting invitations to weddings and baby showers, not always in that order.
Not surprisingly, Josh fell in love with Courtney the minute he picked her up out of my arms and for a while the environment didn't come up in our conversations very often. Josh was so sweet about washing Courtney's diapers, since he insisted on cloth, not disposable. Soon, however Josh found his principles challenged when his wife was no longer too sore to start demanding nightly reamings again. I told him not to worry, I was breast feeding Courtney, but Josh didn't trust Mother Nature to keep me from getting pregnant again. He thought I should go on the pill.
I promised him I would go see my gynecologist, but dallied long enough that when I finally did, she just sent me straight home, saying, "Next time come see me *before* you start screwing him again."
This time Josh was *really* upset. Not only had he violated his principles again, but with a second child we would have to move to a bigger apartment --more green space consumed in urban sprawl, energy used for hot water, more heating and cooling. My second pregnancy was an ecological disaster!
You can bet that Josh was more careful after Rachel was born. This time he refused to put it in me until I was safely on the pill. I put it off a long as I could hoping he would get tired of just eating me and getting blow jobs (fat chance!), but eventually I went back to see Janet. (I knew I was going to become best friends with this woman.) She duly prescribed the pills, but, after I made her understand exactly what I had in mind, she grinned and explained *all* the possible side effects.
Would you believe it? I suffered from almost every one. Sweetie that he is, Josh suffered along with me from the cramps, the headaches, the hot flashes and the nausea until he agreed that I just couldn't keep taking the pill. (I had never started.) With some fanfare I flushed the offending chemicals down the toilet. Josh was very sympathetic and said by the time I became fertile again in a couple of weeks, we would think of something. As he held me and comforted me, I felt the most delicious erection, so I knew what he was thinking of. I needed a lot of comforting that night, about four times, I recall. I felt much better the next day.
I reckon Steven must have been conceived during that night of intensive comforting. I was shocked, *shocked,* to discover that a woman's fertility returns so quickly after going off the pill. Josh was incredulous, but Janet explained everything to him.
When I came home from the hospital this time, Josh was adamant about protection and sent me to get a diaphragm. It was a couple of weeks of no-penetration sex (bo-ring!) before Janet could fit me with the rubber baby barrier. There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she admonished me, "Now don't let your lovemaking get *too* vigorous. If he bangs you too hard, this thing can become dislodged. Then, instead of keeping the sperm out, it keeps it in."
Good advice, but impossible to follow. I had been without real sex for so long that I just went wild. When I was on top, I bounced up and down on Josh's thick prong like a kid on a trampoline. When he was on top I cried out for him to pound my pussy harder. He is a good pounder and he did promise to *obey* at the altar. Josh had several mounts of guilt-free sex until the inevitable happened. I had Josh going at me really good one night when I felt the damned thing slip out of the way. One of Josh's sperm wasted no time in finding one of my eager eggs and we were on our way to having Beth.
By now Josh realized that he could no longer afford to work for "Save the Planet" and had to get a "real" job. Fortunately, he found a pretty well-paying position with the EPA. (He was such a brilliant attorney, he had his pick of jobs.) We bought a three bedroom house out in Oakton, a suburb of Washington, DC. That really violated his principles and he hated having to drive to work in an *automobile* instead of taking public transport. But at least he cut the grass with a rechargeable electric rather than a gasoline mower.