Former Teacher Wants My Baby

The last few years have been terrible for young people. First, Brexit happened and we lost the possibility of working and living in the EU. Our parents' generation got to spend time there without restrictions. Many of my parents' school friends ended up marrying and living in France, Belgium, Spain, or Germany.

Then COVID came along. It devastated the final years of our education. It doesn't matter what Google or Zoom believe but a grid of videos on a tiny laptop screen is not a classroom.

I would have liked to go to university. But that wasn't going to happen so I ended up doing shop work. It's reliable and better paid than it was a few years ago but inflation is steadily eating that advantage away. I only get to go to the pub once a month, so I was amazed when I recognised a familiar face in Wetherspoons.

"Hello Jamie. Do you recognise me?"

"I think so. It's Mme Dumas, right? I was in your French class."

"It is and you were. I'm glad I saw you here. Could I drag you away from your friends for a few minutes?"

I stood up and went outside with her. It was cold and a bit windy but not raining. I suppose the sound of the wind would keep anything she wanted to say relatively private.

"You've left school now, haven't you, Jamie?"

"Yes. I'm at Sainsbury's now. I was at Tesco but I was headhunted."

"Management?"

"Shelf management, I'm afraid. I didn't get on well with distance learning."

"I'm sorry, Jamie. It was a difficult time for everyone. And that's sort of what I wanted to ask you about. I suppose you're an adult now..."

"Yes, 20. With prospects of promotion to Director of Shelving Strategy." I moaned.

"Jamie, just because you've left school does not mean your education must be over. Opportunities can present themselves and this might be one."

"Oh? What do you have to offer me."

"I don't think we should discuss it here. But I'd like to invite you to dinner on Wednesday. At my place. My husband is a very good cook."

"Thank you, Mme Dumas. But I don't really have a date to bring."

"Well that's just perfect. You and me, with my husband in the kitchen. He can cook and clean up, I hope. Now we must swap numbers so we can coordinate."

We NameDropped our cards to each other and I went back inside feeling a little confused. But that didn't last long and I was soon back to talking about an upcoming drill music festival.

* * *

The next morning I got a message from Mme Dumas.

'Hello Jamie, this is Delphine Dumas. We met last night and you promised to come around to dinner on Wednesday. Can you be here at 7:30?'

She included a map link and I saw it was nearby. So I confirmed I'd be there and put it in my calendar. I'm so tired after work I can sometimes forget about events. But there was something about what she said that both confused and intrigued me, so I wanted to be there.

* * *

I was famished when I got back from work and had the eternal dilemma. Should I eat now and spoil my appetite for later or turn up hangry and ruin the evening? I tried to compromise with a couple of oatcakes I had marked as damaged. I put a yellow sticker on them so I could get them for just 30p.

I showered and changed. I wore the shirt I got for my sister's wedding and my lucky boxer shorts. They are the boxer shorts I wore when Amanda said she'd go out with me. They were also the boxer shorts I wore when she broke up with me -- but it's important to keep positive.

As I left for Mme Dumas's house I realised I should have brought a bottle of wine or something. But maybe it was best not to guess. I didn't know what was happening for dinner.

* * *

I rang the bell and Mme Dumas was wearing some kind of diaphanous gown in pastel shades when she answered. It was both very proper and also left nothing to the imagination. I started to realise that she was only about six or seven years older than me.

She kissed me on the cheek as she welcomed me. And while it was a kiss on the cheek it seemed more.

"Come on in, Jamie. It's cold outside. You must be freezing."

The house was warm and smelled of roasting meat. My stomach told me that I was hungry.

"We'll eat soon. But first I want to discuss my offer with you."

She led me to a nicely furnished living room and sat me on an s-shaped conversation chair. So we both sat next to each other and faced each other. It was a very clever design and quite romantic.

"I like this furniture." I needed to say something and thought this was a good place to start. It couldn't be rude in any way and left her lots of room to take it wherever she wanted.

"Oh, yes. These are sometimes called conversation chairs but some people call them courting benches. They were a French invention." She sounded smug.

"Now, I haven't let on much and I owe you an explanation."

I just nodded.

"We had a bad pandemic, too. Teachers are people people. I know that the people we taught had a bad time but us teachers had a bad time, too. We normally interact with more than a hundred people a day. Suddenly we lost all of that. It was hard for my husband and me. We both felt responsible for the education of the young people we taught but we were hamstrung. It was a terrible mental pain."

I started to see things from the other side. I could imagine how it must have been just as much a prison sentence for her as it was for us as teenagers. Then she continued.

"You know, us teachers discuss you students in the staff room. We talk about who is most likely to become rich, who is most likely to get banged up for blagging a jeweller's, and so on."

"I hope you didn't have me down as a future guest of His Majesty," I joked.

"No, not that. We all agreed that you were a kind hearted young man. Hard working. And very handsome."

"You had me down as..." I couldn't bring myself to say it.

"Janice Barnes was your swimming teacher when you were in the upper 6th, I think."

"Oh my God!"

"She's a young woman and she had to look to make sure your legs were kicking properly."

"Anyway, back to the pandemic. It turns out that my husband is very good at many things but not everything. He'll never be able to give me children."

I had a feeling I could see where this was going now. My former French mistress had heard I was packing and wanted to see if I could give her a... that couldn't be right could it? I mean they could get IVF or adopt or something like that.

"So, Jamie. You're no idiot. Can you put two and two together?"

"Should I be coming up with four?"

"Yes. Or another way of looking at it would be to come up with three. But let's discuss this all over dinner."

* * *

I didn't know that consommé had flavour. And the way those little mashed potato things went crispy around the edges was superb.

A lot of it was Pierre's skill in the kitchen. But, not all. Teachers aren't paid a lot. But the difference between what I earned and what they earned meant that they could have a nice little house and afford multiple courses.

Pierre introduced each course and explained what was in it and how he made it. I realised that the ingredients weren't expensive. It's just that he had great skill. Maybe he could imagine a flavour in his mind and work towards it using ingredients and techniques. Who knew?

Then, as the cheeseboard came out they got to business.

"I can't give Delphine children, Jamie. I got something from my mother when I was born. Or maybe while I was in the womb. But that doesn't mean we don't want children."

Delphine continued.

"We looked at other options but they won't work for us. So we need to try a more radical approach. Or maybe a more old school approach. Anyway, we were thinking about why we want children and it's similar to why we went into teaching. We want to help people. That made us even more aware of how badly the education system failed during the pandemic. We really let you down. And we want to do our best to repair the damage."

I was getting confused. I had a feeling that Delphine wanted me to give her a baby but I had no idea what they were getting at with the stuff about repairing the damage.

"I don't understand. Well, I suppose I understand the first part but not the rest. How will you help me?"

"Jamie, you could have learned French and done well at GCSE. Then you could have taken it at A Level, which would have opened up all sorts of opportunities for you. Like diplomacy, business and more. But then the pandemic hit."

"Yes," I responded. "I know that. But I don't understand how you are proposing to help me learn French."

Pierre spoke again.

"We're proposing that you move in with us. When you are here -- at home -- you will only hear and speak in French. So you'll learn French from two French people. You won't have to pay rent or council tax and so on. So you should gain a valuable skill and be in a position to save."

"Let me know if I have misunderstood. But I think you are suggesting that I get Delphine pregnant and in exchange, you'll give me a place to live and teach me French?"

Delphine answered me with a grin on her face.

"Oui, c'est exactement ça, mon ami."

"But Pierre, I look nothing like you. I'm about 30 centimetres taller than you and far, far darker. My grandparents are from Jamaica and St Lucia. No-one's going to mistake you for the baby's father!"

"Why do you think we want to hide the fact that I won't be the father?"

"I don't know. I just assumed."

"Jamie, my whole family knows that my mother infected me and I became infertile. And Delphine's family knows it, too. Trying to pretend that I'm the father just wouldn't fly. So, instead, we thought carefully about the people we knew and what we could do for them. Delphine remembered you. When she taught you she thought you had great talent for languages and would do well. Then, when we were all dealt a blow you struggled. This is partly about us getting the baby we want. But it's also about us making a difference for a young man we both want to see succeed."

"But why me?"

"Why not you? We are only two people. Not a government. We can't repair the damage in a statistically meaningful way. But we can help an individual and maybe he can help us, too. So, are you going to think about giving me a baby?"

"Definitely. I mean, well. You're very pretty. But can you go over some of the practical elements first?"

* * *

I moved in two days later. My landlord didn't complain about me leaving before the end of the agreement. It meant she could put up the rent.

All I had was a suitcase full of clothes, some books, and my laptop. Delphine rearranged their wardrobes to make room for my clothes. Pierre prepared a single bed in a box room. After another great meal that evening I thanked them and said I'd go up to my room.

"Jamie, tu dois parler français!" I had been struggling to speak French during the meal. I'd forgotten what I knew and what I knew was not quite GCSE level. Delphine spoke slowly and used simple French words. I understood that I would be with her in the main bedroom.

This was so different from dating Amanda. Those emotions were so much simpler. I resorted to English.

"But the box room..."

Pierre pointed at himself. I suppose it made sense. If I was going to give Delphine the baby she wanted I'd need to have sex with her. I couldn't do that if I was in the box room and she wasn't.

I wondered how long it would last? I know that sometimes women get pregnant straight away and others it takes months. From a purely selfish perspective, I could use several months of rent free living and intense French language immersion.

And, of course, the sex.

* * *

"Oh, Janice was right." Delphine murmured when I undressed. I realised she was talking about my package and I was a bit shocked that teachers discuss that kind of thing. On the other hand, at least they were discussing me in a positive light.

She switched to French, explaining that it was important that I learned the language of love. It took me a few weeks to catch up with her but I remember what she said.

I sat on the bed and she gently pushed me down. I could feel my precum leaking out of my cock and filling my belly button.

"Oh, you're nice and juicy aren't you?"

She sat over my face and I got to inhale the scent of her smooth pussy lips. As I tasted her I could feel her breath on my cock. But before she licked that she started to collect my precum from my belly button.

I reciprocated and enjoyed the taste of her pussy. Then I tilted her hips so I could lick her clit. I licked down her clit hood waiting for instructions on what to do. But they didn't come as she had my cock in her mouth. Well, some of it.

I could feel her clit becoming harder and larger as I licked. Then, she started throbbing, so I was pretty sure I'd made the right choice. She stopped sucking me while she throbbed and when she stopped she turned around and said she was ready.

"Put it in me, Jamie. Put your big cock in me and fill me up with your baby seed."

So I rolled her over and started. But I had to stop as she was so tight.

"I'm sure it will go in, Delphine. We just need to go slowly. Maybe you sit on me? Then you can control it."

We rolled back and she tried. This time I was looking at my big black cock making very slow progress into a place that never tanned. She was so white! Sure, the white was reddened by all the extra blood flowing through her engorged pussy. But I was overwhelmed with how white she was. Pale ivory skin and blonde pubes.

Delphine worked hard. She moved me in and out. She even squirted extra lube on us both. Eventually, she got about as much as a hen's egg inside her.

"OK, Jamie. You're in now. It will go easier. So fuck me!"

And I did. I couldn't get much more than 15 centimetres in that night but we tried. And I finished with a huge load. As soon as I came, she called Pierre and he performed his cleanup duty. He spent at least 15 minutes on that and he looked very happy afterwards. He even laughed when Delphine told him he had a little bit of my sperm on his moustache.

We went to sleep. But Delphine woke me up about 1am and demanded more sex. I could get more inside her this time and she didn't let Pierre clean her up. She just went back to sleep with my cum inside her. I suppose it made sense as they wanted a baby.

* * *

Things were working out well.

Because I was living with them my costs went down tremendously. I was able to save almost all my wages. And because I was getting good sex at least twice a day I was feeling really relaxed. I made good decisions at work and got promoted to a supervisor role that meant I was taking home even more.

Meanwhile, French immersion was working. We only spoke French at home. At first they encouraged me to speak and make mistakes. Then, when I had picked up the rhythm and remembered the vocabulary they started correcting my mistakes.

We only watched French TV. We only read the French news. Delphine gave me French young adult fiction and I could read and understand it.

After two months they wanted to do what they called a 'live fire test'. They made sure I could come to a family wedding in Caen. The only rules were to only speak French and report back to them on words and phrases I didn't understand.

The trip was easy. A ferry, followed by a short car ride.

The wedding was fun. It was relaxed and I was introduced as a student they were mentoring. Then, there were clearly some private introductions for close family. I could see some smiles, smirks, and raised eyebrows. There was no shouting or disagreement at all.

Far more civilised than any wedding I had ever been to in my life!

* * *

Canapés were served with wine and beer after the church service. Delphine pulled me aside and explained that she was going to introduce me to her cousin, Maëlle.

"You speak good French now, Jamie. And I think you will have me pregnant soon if I am not already. We need to plan for your next move."

"What is your plan?"

"Maëlle asked me to introduce you to her. I think she might be interested in more than a temporary convenience. If you are, that is."

"I think we have to grab what life presents us with open hands. I'd like to meet your cousin."

So we were introduced. Maëlle was just 22, so not much older than me. She was temping in offices because she'd finished university but didn't know what she wanted to do yet. Well, apart from finding a man.

"I think that Delphine and Pierre are only working on your French now." She told me.

"Oh no, I still have a responsibility to fulfil. I can't abandon them until I have fulfilled my purpose."

"Jamie, you are a very smart guy. I know that you have learned our language from almost nothing in just two months. Not perfectly but very well. But you don't know about women, do you?"

"In what way?"

"You have had sex with Delphine every day since you moved in, right?"

"Yes, I think so."

"And did you notice her having her period?"

"Oh, I see. No. So you think she's already pregnant?"

"I am confident that you got her pregnant almost immediately. But I think she really, really likes sex with you. And I think Pierre likes her having sex with you, too."

"I suppose she has looked very happy lately."

Maëlle just laughed.

"So," Maëlle continued, "want to show me what Delphine enjoys so much?"

I must have looked uncomfortable.

"You don't think I'm ugly do you?"

"Oh no, Maëlle. You're gorgeous. Genuinely. It's just I don't understand what my commitment to Delphine is. I mean, would she be upset?"

"Jamie, why do you think she introduced you to me? She knows I want you. What would upset her is if you don't give it a go with me."

"Really, she's happy for me to...? You know Maëlle, I'm getting better at French but I realise now how different the social rules are from in London."

* * *

Maëlle forbade me from drinking any more wine because she didn't want me in any way impaired.

So, we sat next to each other at the formal dinner. We danced together and then told the bride and groom how lovely the evening was. We headed upstairs.

Maëlle literally gripped my forearm and pulled me along. She wasn't going to let anything get in between her and a taste of me. I didn't like being pulled like that so I pulled her into a kiss, to to demonstrate my my intentions.

When we got to her room in the hotel there was no pretence.

"Jamie, I'm on the pill and I'm clean. You can cum inside me as much as you like. But I want at least three orgasms before dawn."

"You Dumas women are very direct. I like it!"

"I'm not a Dumas. I'm an Allard. Maybe that's a common trait or maybe women can be more direct nowadays.

I asked permission to go down on her. Delphine needed that every time or she couldn't fit me inside her. Maëlle didn't say anything, she just lay back on the bed and let me get to work. Delphine had trained me well and I wanted to show off. I really put in the effort and made sure that Maëlle's first orgasm was from oral.

When she was finally ready, I got between her legs and promised I'd go slow. And I did. The emotions on her face were incredible. Lust. Awe. Shock. But finally I got my helmet inserted and started to make progress. Slow progress. I wanted Maëlle to come with me and to cum with me.

I was sweating and beginning to flag before I got to my vinegar strokes.

"I'm going to cum inside you, Maëlle."

"Yes! Yes! Give it to me."

And I pumped as much cum as I could inside her. As I did, I could feel her clenching and releasing. I saw her face relax as she gave in and orgasmed. I kissed her.

"Was that good for the first time?"

"Good. Yes, that was good." I think it took her a while to start thinking and talking properly.

"OK. I need a bit of a rest but we can go again in 15 minutes or so."

* * *

Maëlle was very controlling when we got up the next morning. She was obviously very happy about how things had gone. She insisted that we almost parade into the breakfast room with her arm on mine. The combination of her behaviour and the stone architecture of the very old hotel made me feel like a mediaeval lord.