Betrayed Over Conception

ONE

We all make mistakes in our lives and right now I'm very aware of two really big ones, and it looks as though my marriage is being torn apart because of not getting these two things right.

My first big mistake was to chose the wrong sister, ignoring the urging of a mother trying to marry off her less attractive daughter. My mother-in-law had confronted me about this when Gloria and I were wallowing in ongoing discussion about setting a date to announce our engagement. Our cuddling and sweet talking send her po-faced sister Liz stomping through the house in fits of pique and tears. Liz hated me at that time when wedding bells were in the air, the jealous bitch.

The second mistake came later, eight years more or less. We were childless – I blamed Gloria and she blamed me but neither of us had the guts to be examined medically in case the blame came home to roost. Who wants to find out their powder is wet and useless, huh?

Well, I would rue the day about being pig-headed and refusing to be tested.

It all began when one of Gloria's friends announced she was expecting her third child. Gloria started to panic as she'd just turned twenty-eight and worried that the cut-off date for successful conception was looming. I reckoned that date came nearer the age of forty but she asked how would I know and anyway why argue over numbers - but we did.

She tried a new ploy in pressuring me to get my gear tested, promising if I was certificated as being A-1 for producing babies she'd get tested, but we both knew she was lying.

There has to be trust and understanding to make a marriage work as well as cooperation and goodwill, right? Great textbook stuff, but you know textbook authors are often insulated from reality.

Being a victim of ear-bashing and in sexual denial because Gloria wouldn't roll over meant my life sucked, so at work when the CEO bribed me with an under-the-table offer of $10,000 cash if I worked a 12-hour night shift as project engineer on a highway by-pass of the small town of Oakland Ridge, I took the 13-month contact.

That ten grand slipped into my secret boat fund. I would also be able to get my tax-paid night-shift and living away from home allowances paid into that account.

Gloria would find out about my deceit when I bought the boat but would be delighted, as she was also crazy about fishing; I knew she was embarrassed that we fished from an aluminum 9-footer with an outboard only a little more powerful than her cake mixer. Good for trolling, though.

My business-like decision to take the contract produced the inevitable row.

"Why did you accept that job away from home without discussing it with me?" she ranted.

I could have said to get away from your constant bickering over reproductive tests, darling, but instead I lied and said, "The CEO said 'take the job Mike, otherwise go find yourself another employer'."

"But he can't do that, can he?"

Yes, but not without leaving the company open to me claiming big damages in the employment court for breach of my personal employment contact. But why tell her that? She'd suggest accept the situation and then we'd engage a top industrial relations lawyer and seek a million bucks or more in damages for wrongful termination and loss of earnings and future benefits.

"Er, yes, he can do that."

"That's criminal."

"Yeah, another example of white collar crime, eh love?"

She became sympathetic and for one hopeful moment I thought I was going to be offered sex.

Three weeks into my night shift job two hundred miles up country I receive a phone call from Liz.

"Gloria has a lover."

Now, I did say Gloria's sister Liz at one time hated my guts, but she'd got over that by the time of the engagement. Six years later Liz got married but the sod bashed her and it all turned to custard, ending in divorce last year.

When Gloria began to keep her legs closed on me recently, I'd idly thought that Liz might help milk my balls as she was probably missing being humped as well. But she's a hard-nosed bitch and I thought she'd probably end up telling Gloria I was bonking her. Well, here she was phoning me, attempting to be my closest confidante.

"Pardon me?"

"You heard, but you really don't want to hear it: Gloria is being screwed by a guy. I thought you should know. Will you divorce her?"

"Er, I'll think about it, Liz, but would need proof that it's happening."

"Perhaps I can help get proof?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"You don't seem to be particularly worried about my disclosure?"

"I'm in a state of shock, Liz. Also Gloria hasn't been particularly warm to me in recent months so she'd probably got randy through not getting it."

"Surprise, surprise – she's told me about putting you on hold; she thinks your sperm is no good so why should she bother having you ruining her hair and scratching her insides because you are lazy about cutting your finger nails."

I was shocked: Liz tells her sister things like that?

"Did Gloria tell you that?"

"Come on, Mike, you know it's the truth and yes she has mentioned it from time to time, quite often in recent months actually."

"Hmmm."

"Is all that you can say, Mike?"

"I'm in shock."

"Should I come up and attend to your needs?"

I almost dropped my phone. Liz offering her pussy to me?

"It's all work, sleep and no play here, Liz. The weather's put us two days behind schedule already and I have to crack the whip."

"Well, it's an open offer, Mike. I love you. Give me a call some time.

"Bye."

I put the phone down in a daze. Life can get so damn complicated.

No, you can't come up here Liz as I've got a dishy senior engineering student who is also, um, attending to my needs. The student came on site, took one look at the hairy and fat day project engineer and then saw me and said she preferred to work nights; so we agreed she could. I had no idea at the time she considered field experience included testing the strength of her boss' bed.

I suddenly wondered had Gloria had taken a lover hoping to get pregnant? The idea of some meat-head ramming her cunt with his sausage on ovulating days and squirting semen up her tubes made me see red.

After throwing rocks at a tin can, I came to a decision. I arranged with the day project manager to sleep in my quarters overnight to be on hand for emergencies. I briefed my student babe in detail about what to do throughout the night and to refer to Sam if she had any doubt about anything. Fortunately the work at this stage was mainly routine compacting of base layers; there was a competent engineer supervising the construction of the four bridges.

I then left on the 446-mile round trip to my hometown which would have me back on-site at the project eleven hours later for a four hour sleep.

Naturally I wanted to end this thing of Gloria's. I felt betrayed – not because she was playing around as doesn't everyone do that? No, the deep hurt came from my theory that she was attempting to get some dung-head to father our first child. I had no idea how I would prove that intent, other than wait until she announced she was pregant!

TWO

I had plenty of time to think about the mess as I drove towards my little fucker of a wife.

I went back to the beginning. Gloria and I met shopping. I was entering this store when my attention was diverted temporarily when I saw this new model Dodge pick-up rumble by – it was painted shiny black and looked very sexy. My hand was out to pull open the screen door when it opened and someone walked straight on to my hand; in surprise I looked down to see I had a handful of tit.

How embarrassing.

"Pardon me, ma'am, my fault entirely. I was looking at that sexy new model Dodge and..."

"That's my dad's new vehicle; he's come to pick me up. If you think that's sexy, then what about me?"

Huh?

She sounded that she wasn't going to call a cop or call me all the names under the sun. Boy, was this little lady cool! Actually, she looked rather young.

My hand had come off that boob as if it were a hot rock from a campfire. So I checked her out and saw two pert breasts; I lifted my gaze to find her looking at me with a smile posing as a question.

"Haven't you touched a boob for a while?"

I thought, what a question to ask a guy when he'd out shopping and you don't know him from Adam.

I think I said something like "Huh?" She smiled and walked by saying, "I'll see you around, I hope."

Flustered, as dames normally don't say to me I'll see you around 'I HOPE' even if I know them, I stepped back on to the sidewalk scratching my head and looking at her walking to the black pick-up. Then darn me if that cute little bum didn't do a couple of real sexy waggles – no babe even in four-inch heels would walk with a waggle like that. She turned and grinned at me; my dick half rose up as if about to whistle at her. Oh boy.

If she was expecting me to run to her and get her phone number she must have been disappointed. Actually Gloria told me later she thought I'd not be forward enough to come and ask for her number. However, just in case I became proactive, she got her dad to wait a minute before telling him to drive off.

I went inside the store not knowing what to think, but fortunately my mouth did.

"Mrs Lamb, do you know the name of that customer who just walked out – the cute little blonde?"

"Yes Mike I do, and if you purchase more than twenty bucks of my deli lines I'll tell you."

Huh?

But she winked, only joking. She told me the girl's name was Gloria, Sandy Owens's daughter and she thought they lived over on Eastriver somewhere.

Gloria? That's a name I could really like, I thought.

"She'd a little young and small for you, Mike. She has an older and much bigger sister who's more your age and size, though she's not as good looking as Gloria."

"It's all right, Mrs Lamb, I just thought I'd not seen her before."

"Navy Street, I think," said Mrs Lamb.

I pretended I didn't hear her.

I finished shopping for my mom, who was getting ready for my 26th birthday party. A few of the guys and their babes were coming round for a cook-out and beers.

On the way home I drove through Eastriver looking for Navy Street and found it – a rather pretty street of good looking homes.

What fucking number? Mrs Lamb hadn't said, but I needn't had got pissed off because there was Gloria out on the lawn playing with a shaggy dog. She was dressed in white shorts and a cute top that just covered her bra with not a lot over. I was just about to get the hell out of there when she spotted me crawling along and waved, excited like; she ran towards my old Dodge pick-up.

"I was hoping it was you," she burbled happily. "I guess Mrs Lamb told you where I live? She and her family live three houses down from us."

So Mrs Lamb could have given me the number; aren't women funny?

"I'm Mike Giles, Gloria and I'm a highway construction engineer, recently graduated."

"Oooh," that's nice. "So you can't take your work home with you," she said, all serious like. But there was a twinkle in her eye which saved me from agreeing with her; obviously she wasn't a dumb blonde. I just laughed and she complimented me on having a humor. I didn't know what else to say so I invited her to my birthday party, saying I'd call back for her at noon.

"I haven't said I'll come," she said with a teasing lilt. But I already knew she was bagged as she'd looked excited by the invitation.

"What should I wear?"

"Nothing," I shouted as I accelerated off yelling, "Whoopee!"

I was between girlfriends at the time, like four months since I last had a regular date. So Gloria would fit into the slot nicely, and what a fit she would be, I thought. During that afternoon mom marched up to me and said, "Do you know this Gloria girls of yours, popping out of her clothes, is only nineteen?

"Nope, it's doesn't matter; she's legal age."

"For what? Oh my goodness, Mike, you're not thinking of seducing the girl, are you?"

Some moms have a peculiar impression of their sons. Mine obviously thought I dated girls to have someone to sit with at the movies while looking to see if they were of the right quality to bear grandchildren. On the other hand my dad, who's English, was always asking me about my girl of the moment, "Are you shagging that bit of fluff yet?" Invariably I was, but always denied it as he'd only tell mom.

A couple of weeks later Gloria took me home to meet the folks. Her dad and I hit it off immediately, he being chuffed that I drove a Dodge and was able to recite the specifications of his new pride and joy parked in his driveway. The mother, Bimbo (which is what husband Ralph calls her), looked at me as if I were a rogue bull eying up her pet yearling.

I shagged (my dad's word for it) Gloria that evening. Ralph had told me to take his pride and joy for a test drive so I drove up to Pine Ridge Hill where I nailed his wife's pride and joy.

Actually it was I who was nailed.

I had a shagging in mind but didn't quite know if this was the time and place for my attempt. Gloria was sitting facing me with her back against her door when she said, "I'm not wearing panties – want to check that I'm telling the truth?"

Well, I'm always good for a look. I looked, the odor was unmistakable and my tongue shot down for a test drive, Gloria squealed and it was all on.

"Christ, I've been longing for you to be doing this since I waggle my butt at you on that first day we met."

That admission drove lust to my loins.

Gloria pushed me away and I assumed that I'd had my baptism – just a few licks to keep me interested until she found someone else she liked better. But no, she shoved me back even more and unzipped me.

"What have we got here," I recall her muttering. "Ohmigod!"

Well, dad being English from Liverpool is big, so it's in the jeans, er, genes.

She sucked and slurped and I though she might be a swallower, but without warning the silly cow pulled away as she felt the vibrations turning into an express train and I yelped in horror as the second big massive shot splattered the roof lining.

"Your dad's pride and joy, with cum sticking to the roof lining," I choked, looking at the mess, though really it wasn't much of a strike.

"Relax, he watches football tonight so won't be going out. I'll sponge it off and it will be dry when he goes off to work. Cum cleans off providing you use plenty of water; I should know."

Know what? I never did find out.

At the wedding Gloria's sister Liz (Elizabeth), got drunk and as chief bridesmaid made a speech during which she made a complete fool of me.

First of all she recited the cum on the roof lining story – Gloria had obviously mouthed off to Liz about it. My mom-in-law glared at me while dad-in-law, who was pissed trying to out drink my dad, laughed and yelled he'd not noticed a wet roof lining but had to clean up a string of cum that had landed on the instrument panel.

The liquor had been flowing so most people shrieked with laughter when Liz told that story and her father added his bit, but the two moms were looking daggers at me.

Then Liz created utter shambles, by bursting into tears and going on about how desperately she loved me and that I should have chosen her and not Gloria to be my bride.

She ran off, chased by her mother Sandy and the best man Ivan while Gloria asked in a hugely loud voice had I been fucking her sister.

The whole room fell silent, everyone waiting for my confession or denial. My throat constricted and my dad calmly called out, "Drink some water, son."

I gulped some water, noticing a waitress trying unsuccessfully to take the big knife for cutting the wedding cake from Gloria's hand.

"No, definitely not," I said in a big, manly voice with absolute conviction as it really was the truth.

"Oh darling," shrieked Gloria, dropping the knife and smothering me.

The irony of this was that Bimbo (Sandy) had a big talk to me some months earlier when realizing her daughter was shagging me (though not actually seeing it happening).

"Gloria's too young for you and has her whole life ahead of her," she simpered in a conspiratorial tone. "I'm also very worried you may be too big for her, if you know what I mean. That sort of thing can ruin a woman."

I was curious about how sticking with me meant Gloria no longer had a life ahead of her. Wouldn't I be giving her the life she wanted?

Women, particularly mothers and older, have a habit of saying things that only serve to confuse. But this mom then came clean.

"Look, why don't you finish with Gloria and take on Liz. She's your age and size so would be a wonder receptacle for you. Her father and I am worried she'll miss out on a suitor if she doesn't get one soon."

'A wonderful receptacle for you'. Did that mean what I thought it meant? Christ, women are not afraid to paint word pictures, although this one was almost too subtle for me.

"No thanks, Gloria and I are thinking about getting engaged."

"Ohmigod, so soon. I thought that once you two began, er, became intimate you would be satisfied with your lot for quite some time. After all, that's only what men are really interested in, isn't it?"

Here was more of this mysterious talking – saying small things but really communicating big things requiring interpretation from me. Why can't women say what they really mean? I played for time, thinking this was turning into an inquisition.

"She has a cute smile, is bright to talk to and is interested..."

"I know, Mike, but it all comes down to sex, doesn't it," she said unbutton the top two buttons of her dress and a sexy looking bra came into view. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this."

I couldn't believe it: Goria's mom was about to seduce me!

"Excuse me, Sandy, it was very nice of you to invite me over for a chat but I've got to pick up Gloria."

"But she won't be finished work for another hour," said Sandy, undoing more buttons.

"Traffic is heavy today and I'll have difficulty finding a place to park – better go now," I waved, racing away from the poison chalice.

THREE

As I near my home which houses my adulterous wife, I appreciate that even after eight years being married to me Gloria still looks like a cute trim blonde, even if her tits and hips have filled out a little. She's only five-six tall but would have had no trouble getting any guy to give her a baby.

Hell, what guy wouldn't jump at an offer to do that? Actually I wouldn't – too sick for me to handle unless the husband also appealed to me to come to the rescue. Cum to the rescue, heh-heh-heh.

I'm six-three, currently two-fifteen pounds and work out, so am confident of handling the guy if he comes at me bare-handed if anything goes wrong with this look-see. This mission is simply to identify him before making my prime move, though I don't know what that's going to be.

The bastard drives a pick-up – blue F-150. I notice it as I drive by my house; it's 10:30 and all the lights are on in the bedroom. Funny that – Gloria wants only the wall lights on when we're fucking. So what's the attraction about this mother-fucker? I'm beginning to get a little mad.

Stopping a little way along the street I walk back with a heavy screwdriver thinking I'll try to force a window down or perhaps will be lucky and mnage to force the door. But damn it, the pick-up is alarmed. So any papers in the glove box leading to his identity are safe from my prying eyes. In frustration I scrawl 'I'm a mother-fucker' on the driver's door, taking extreme care not to rock the vehicle in case that sets off the alarm. Then I go and get late dinner.

Arriving back just after midnight I find the house in darkness, so unlock the front door and creep in. Christ, the randy bastard has made it easy for me. There's a line of his clothes running along the hallway as he tore them off, probably with Gloria in the bedroom dipping fingers into her cunt and crying, 'Ready and waiting, darling?'