My wife's face is a luminescent oval surrounded by shining dark brown hair and set with large brown eyes that glisten, as if she is ever on the verge of a cry. It is a face both sad and compassionate. And when she smiles, the expression lifts my heart, melts my will. It is a magic she has worked since we met. And so when Claire suggested that she might be ready to start a family -- her eyes bright, her smile just a little wicked -- I was readily enthusiastic for reasons that I could feel more than understand.
We approached our effort to have children with the passion that colored other aspects of our life together. Our lovemaking in those first few months was more intense and focused than ever. Claire took to murmuring erotically throughout, expressing thoughts and images as they played in her mind -- her love for me, her desire to be made pregnant and feel the subsequent changes to her body, her mental image of her womb, my cock, and the "seed" in my balls. Her low, gentle voice seemed to coax us both into a trancelike state that prolonged our lovemaking to dreamlike reverie.
But we were unsuccessful in making the images a reality. After a year or so using various therapies, and with no small amount of strain on our magic, we ventured into experimental territory. I had read on the web about a few chemical approaches to fertility that had not yet been approved for use legally. I shared my research with Claire, and after an exhausting near-tears discussion, we agreed to try one.
The bottle of little blue pills arrived a few weeks later. It was enclosed with a single sheet of paper that must have been a third or fourth generation photocopy. The blurred text only briefly described the pills themselves as a drug that acted on several levels, including influencing sex- and reproduction-related hormones. Side effects were described as possibly enough to impair judgement, with the usual admonition about driving, and so on. The instructions stated that we were each to take one prior to having intercourse.
That evening without fanfare, Claire and I undressed and each took one of the tiny pills, washing it down with a shared glass of wine. Excitement at trying something so new had already stiffened my cock. Claire took my hand and pulled me to the bed, where we knelt facing one another. As I reached out to caress Claire's sweet face, I felt my own face become warm with an unexpected blush. The sensation moved downward through my body, a creeping warmth. I watched my fingers play over Claire's soft cheek, watched her take my thumb into her mouth. I felt a strange detachment, as if I were examining her from a distance. I noticed with renewed intensity how lovely and full her mouth was around my thumb, the grace in her long neck and slender shoulders. But as I scanned downward over her breasts, over her waist, her hips, I felt my heart begin to race. The sight of Claire's body commanded my attention as it never had before, provoking a kind of fever that had my cock aching.
Through a growing haze of desire, I heard Claire's voice groan. I felt it resonate through her lips, tenderly gripping my thumb. Looking back at her face, I saw her eyes shut tightly in what looked like a wince. My gaze drifted again to her body as my head filled with a warm fog that started to make coherent thought elusive. I wondered briefly if I should be concerned about what appeared to be dramatic side effects. Was it the wine? But before I could act on the thought my caution vanished, chased away by a vivid, visceral awareness of the nearness of Claire's body. I moved closer to her.
I wanted to take her and pull her body against mine. But at that moment she cried out in a muffled groan. Her hands flew up to sieze my extended arm. Her lips pulled at my thumb, her teeth suddenly bearing down. Another groan rose more loudly, low in her throat.
She shuddered in a way that shook her entire body. My earlier vague concern about side effects returned as I worried that Claire might be in pain. My hazy sensibilities were barely able, and barely willing, to sort it out.
As her body quieted, she released my thumb and opened her eyes to look into mine. She parted her lips, panting, and nodded almost imperceptibly, an affirmation, her eyes fluttering. Then she opened her mouth for yet another scream-like groan. She found each of my hands with hers, gripped them tightly, then suddenly bent at the waist and lurched forward to slam her head into my chest. With her dark hair against my chin, I could feel her gasping open-mouthed against my left nipple. Then I felt her tongue brush it softly.
"It's okay... I'm okay," she said against my nipple. She seemed to struggle for breath.
But I barely heard her: the sensation of our bodies finally so close had quickened my own breathing. My heart pounded. I felt as if in a fever. My cock and balls were enormous in my mind's eye.
Claire slipped slowly downward, shaking, her face and hair sliding over my chest to my flat belly, then down to my crotch. I felt her nose push into the hair at the base of my cock, her hands still squeezing mine. Looking down over her curves, I fought a growing desire to shake my hands free of hers and reach out for her ass. I knew one thing: she would not suck my cock to orgasm; I would not allow it. I knew that when I came my cock would be thrust deep inside her, completely inside her, my cum flooding her womb.
Claire seemed to be snuffling at my crotch, whimpering and nuzzling in a way that caused my shaft to bounce about against her neck and shoulder. Then she began to shake again, at first softly, but then in convulsions that had her hips undulating beneath my fixed gaze. I felt her mouth open wide against my cock's base, her lips wet against me, and she began to cry in a pulsing, guttural groan.
"Aagghhhh... it's okay..." she panted. "It's... oh... dear god... it feels good..."
I bent over her body, held her hands as she shook. I didn't know what was happening to Claire, and what was left of my intellect seemed unable to pursue the question. I was pushed completely into the moment. My brain filled with desires sent to it by my body. And my body screamed a desire to fuck Claire.
So I barely blinked when I thought I saw, amid Claire's convulsions, that the muscles of her ass had begun to ripple beneath her skin. They seemed to be flexing in undulations that swept up from the backs of her thighs over her hips, crashing like tiny waves against her waist.
"Oh god!" I heard her cry against my cock. "It's happening! I can feel it!"
Claire's hands tightened on mine painfully. Her gasps had become grunts punctuating her moans. And as I watched, Claire's hips began to slowly widen. She jerked her ass back and upward, arching her back. Her hips stretched slowly outward, her ass growing fuller and rounder. The image of the change seemed to send bolts of arousal straight to my own hips, my cock, my balls. I found myself involuntarily thrusting, sliding my cock subtly against Claire's face. Claire's nearness prompted my body to seek more of her. But she did not take my cock in her mouth, instead allowing it to slide against her hair.
Finally, her shaking seemed to subside. After a few moments she became quiet, panting softly. She lifted her head. Her eyes were wet and dazed, but there was a curious half-smile on her lips. She sat up on her heels and we both looked down at her body. Her 24-inch waist now flared downward and out to deliciously curved hips that were inches broader than her shoulders. Her smile widened. She pulled my hand toward her until my fingertips rested on her right hip. I rubbed gently, enjoying her fullness, and she watched my smile grow.
Then her breathing began to quicken again. She freed her other hand from mine and placed her fingers gently over one of her small breasts. She gasped softly, then leaned in to whisper to me.