My Search for a Father

It was time. I'm 32, and I want to be a mother. I've always wanted children. It's just too bad one needs a man in order to have one. One needs a woman, too, obviously. But since I am a woman, I've got that covered.

It's not that I have not tried to fall in love with a man. If I had, children would have been a natural and wonderful consequence of the love, at least at some point. I did try to fall in love with a man. I tried hard, over many years.

I went through quite a few men during my college years and for five years after college. Adding them all up, I had 8 serious boyfriends over that 9-year period. I had no casual sex, and no "one night stands." I'm a relationship kind of girl.

Well, that's not completely true. There was this one time. I had a nice job, right out of college. I had a crush on my boss. All the girls did. He would take us girls out for a cocktail after work on Fridays, and there was competition among the girls to be the last to leave. I had a friend, Mary, who had been the last to leave one of the Fridays, and my boss and Mary ended up in bed together. They had a hot and heavy romance for 3 weeks, and then Mary ended it.

Inspired by Mary, and being infatuated with my boss, after she told me that, I decided to be the last to leave. Mary left early (it was totally over between her and the boss; I did not know why). It finally came down to Susan and myself. Susan was throwing herself at our boss, Mr. Scarpin.

Mr. Scarpin was around 46 years old (I was 24), handsome, always well dressed, dashing and debonair. He projected power and he demanded obedience. That turned me on. I wanted to be the girl who landed him. I thought I could grow old with him, you know? I wanted to land him for the long haul.

Susan was wearing a low-cut blouse, and Mr. Scarpin was enjoying the occasional downlook. Then Susan went to the ladies' and returned with no bra, and an extra button undone. While Susan was gone, Mr. Scarpin had put his hand on my thigh under the table, and instead of removing it, I squirmed ever closer to him, giving him even better access to my legs. His hand was inching up my legs, when Susan's boobs made their appearance, quickly followed by Susan herself.

I lost to Susan. After a few weeks though, just like Mary before her, Susan was leaving early. She left together with Mary, and I finally had my chance. I was prepared. I had worn a short, tight skirt that hugged my ass, no panties, and no bra under my sleeveless and cut out T shirt. The air conditioning of the bar was strong, and the cold made my nipples hard, and they poked at my T shirt in an obvious manner. You could almost, but not quite, see them through my cut out arm holes. I looked hot.

It worked. I was the last girl left with Mr. Scarpin, perhaps the only girl of the group he did not yet know carnally. But when he got me home, and we kissed and he felt me up, I chickened out. I said no. I don't know why; I just kind of froze, losing my courage. The age difference freaked me out.

He did not rape me or anything; he was not that kind of man. Instead he bombarded me with flattery (I was different than the other bimbo; I was special; he ached to be with me, etc.). he also used drama (he could not live without me), and finally my favorite: How he could tell his friends I had rejected him? It would be humiliating.

He was relentless, and he simply beat down my resistance. We compromised with a blowjob. He wanted me naked for the blowjob, so naked I was. He wanted me to swallow. I swallowed. He was in awe of my blowjob, but every man to date had also been in awe, so I figured I was good at them. Maybe it was because I liked giving them; I found it sexy.

Then he surprised me. He pushed me to the ground, spread my legs, and he went down on me, eating me out. It was my first cunnilingus, and it was divine. It was like heaven. After that, he had me, and he took full advantage.

My legs stayed spread, he climbed on top of me, kissed me, and entered me quickly and swiftly, going to the hilt in his first try. He then fucked me beautifully, and damn if I did not fuck him back with great enthusiasm.

Now that we had fucked, it was a like a dam had broken. I lot all resistance, and we fucked all the time. We even fucked a few times at work. Rabbits were jealous. We fucked every day, usually several times, for 20 straight days. It's good that I was young. Nevertheles, even my young 24-year-old pussy was getting sore.

I got freaked when he wanted to make a sex video. He wanted one of his friends to video us. He had the whole thing scripted. First, I would blow him. Next, he would fuck me in three different positions. He wanted close-ups of me on the bed with my legs spread wide. He wanted it all. We got into a huge fight over that, but he would not let it go. The pressure was relentless.

He has a way. He can be very convincing. Also, he's my boss. Eventually, I felt I had no choice. Otherwise I would lose him. I was also a little worried about losing my job, even though nothing had happened to Mary or Susan. (Did they agree to make videos, too?)

I caved. His friend Tariq came with a video camera, and not only did he watch us have sex (nobody had ever seen me have sex before, other than my sex partner, of course!), and not only did he video us, but he shot close-ups of Mr. Scarpin's long cock sliding in and out of my pussy, my mouth, and my ass.

He taped us while he himself was naked. When we were finally all done, he had a throbbing erection.

I was surprised by my reaction. It was shameful and humiliating to have someone not only watch us have sex, but to video it, too. But it turned me on something fierce. I had never been so sexually aroused, and the leering, lustful presence of Tariq turned me into a wild woman.

Mr. Scarpin did not know what hit him with my behavior, but he was pleased, to say the least. Also, he's a bastard, but he's a smart bastard. I suspect he figured out I was an exhibitionist long before I myself knew!

When we were done, I was naked, splayed on the bed, with Mr. Scarpin's cum on my face, in my pussy, and in my asshole. I lay there, totally satiated, and both men looked at me. They caught my eye, and pointed to Tariq's erect cock. I said, "No. No, you cannot be serious. It's bad enough all this is on video, but now you want me to do Tariq, too? Please tell me this is not the case."

Ms. Scarpin relaxed in an armchair and smiled as Tariq climbed onto the bed and onto me. I pushed at him and said, "No. No, please! Get off me now!" Tariq complied. The three of us had a long talk, with us all naked. Tariq's erection was always there, and I was constantly dribbling cum from my pussy and my ass.

Mr. Scarpin had this relentless way about him, just like before. He combined pleading with flattery. He pulled out his ace: a gold necklace, encrusted with diamonds. He placed it around my neck. I'm filled with shame to this day, but a half hour later I fucked Tariq. I gave him a good fuck, too. A really good fuck. After Tariq shot his load and got off of me, Mr. Scarpin immediately climbed into the saddle and took me yet again.

I have never confessed this to anyone, not even to myself: I loved every minute of it. It is so forbidden to do those things, and the taboo nature of it all turned me on something fierce. God, I loved it. But it's my secret, and it stays with me. Nevertheless, I think Mr. Scarpin somehow knew.

Both Tariq and Mr. Scarpin had agreed that only they would ever get to watch that video. I believed them. I was a naïve fool.

We broke up shortly after that event. Mr. Scarpin said he had showed the video to "some friends," and one of them wanted to do me while Mr. Scarpin watched. I completely freaked out. He had promised never to show anyone that video! And now he wanted to farm me out like some cheap whore? I said no. I said no in no uncertain terms.

Mr. Scarpin was clever, however. He had raised the subject while we were making out, and I was already naked and soaking wet down there. I was more than ready to be fucked. I needed to be fucked. I did not see what was taking him so long to lay me down and ravish me.

We talked a long time about his "request" to let his friend Paul fuck me, and once again he beat me down. Paul, it seems, was listening the entire time from the next room. As soon as I finally, and reluctantly, agreed, Paul's huge erection entered the room, followed quickly by Paul himself. He fucked me three times that night. I got gold earrings out of the deal.

The earrings are gorgeous. They look great on me. I look sophisticated and stunning when I wear them. I absolutely never wear them. For me, they symbolize shame. Shame and humiliation. They represent for me my own role in my own degradation.

That was the last straw. It had only been three weeks since that first Friday night, but it had seemed like three months. We were finished. Mr. Scarpin somehow knew he had gone too far. I refused to see him. He soon got the message, and he stopped trying, thank goodness.

Mr. Scarpin is married, it turns out, and he has two kids. I don't know why I did not know that. He was 22 years older than I was at the time (I was 24), and he used me and the rest of the girls to indulge his midlife crisis, and feed his narcissistic need to be desired. I was a naïve fool. But I did have fun until the inevitable happened: We broke up, just like Mary, Susan, and the others before me.

Mr. Scarpin moved on to another bimbo hunting ground. I'm sure he was successful. I licked my wounds. That was my only true one night stand kind of affair, even if it did last three weeks, with sex almost every day of those three weeks. And it ended up involving sex with three different men. It would have been more men, too, if I had not ended it. Mr. Scarpin showed the entire video to his fantasy football buddies.

The video, by the way, is now on the Internet, on one of those porn sites. There is a 6-minute clip, starring me, my blowjob skills, my pussy, and my ass getting royally fucked, on one of the free porn sites. There are scenes of my face when I was faking an orgasm. If you want to watch more than six minutes, you can pay for the entire two-hour version. Few things can be more horrible for a girl than something like that.

The problem is that I never enjoyed the sex that much, either from Mr. Scarpin, or from any other man. I certainly never had an orgasm during copulation. At one point I simply gave up on men. Don't get me wrong: I'm pretty, and I have a nice body.

I figure men go for five things: boobs, legs, a girl's ass, a girl's hair, and finally (but most importantly) a girl's face. In a relationship, it's all about personality. I figure I'm five for six. My personality, apparently, does not quite make the grade. But I've definitely got the boobs, the ass, the legs, the hair, and the pleasing face. Oh yeah: I've got those in spades.

The real problem was always to find a man I can love. I found eight men I could like. And we had lots and lots of sex. I enjoyed all the sex, but it was always missing a certain something for me. Men could tell. The relationships never lasted more than a few months.

Frustrated beyond all reason, I decided my taste must run to women. I was a lesbian for three years. I went through three lovely women. They could make me cum, and quite nicely too, but I was forcing myself. I'm simply not gay. I'm just not wired that way.

So, for the last two years I have led a pleasant life without men, and without women, at least when it comes to sexual partners. But my biological clock is ticking away, and I want a baby.

I cannot bring myself to go to a sperm bank, nor can I deal with all the nonsense about being judged for wanting to be a single mother. No, the easiest (and maybe the best?) thing to do is to get a man to knock me up. I need to see the face of the man. I need to see who is going to father my child. But he must not know; it must be secret. He must never, ever know. I need to be as anonymous as possible.

It might be best if even I did not know who the father was, either. But how can that happen? The only solution is to have sex with several men during the fertile period of my cycle. That way I will know one of them is the father, but I won't know which one. Now all I needed to do was to figure out how to go about it!

I was not about to go online and swipe right or left. Nope. I'm old fashioned, and I decided to try the bar scene. I live in New York City, so all I had to do was to google "best hookup bars." I found a list of 60 bars. I began with the least likely bar. Being 32, I am too old for most places, I figured. The hookup scene is for people in their 20s, even in their early 20s.

But I was not looking for a potential life partner. I just wanted unprotected, raw sex. My most fertile period was still a week away. My first foray was just to check things out. I wanted to see how the other women dressed and acted, and then which ones were successful.

My plan was to copy them. Since this was just a preliminary sortie, I did not bother to change, and went in my work clothes: a skirt of the correct length, and a boring blouse, and 2 inch heels. My make-up was in good taste, designed for my workplace. (And yes, Mr. Scarpin is still my boss. And yes, he still lusts for me even if he is bopping some other bimbo now.)

So, you can imagine my surprise when someone hit on me within ten minutes of my arrival. He was with a group of guys, all around mid 20s, and he brought me to their table. This was great: I had five men to choose from! They had a pitcher of beer, but I was drinking a steady diet of mojitos. The bar had good mojitos: the bartender used fresh mint, and crushed it with a stone to release the flavor. They were yummy.

I smoothly "interviewed" each one, and I found one guy, Daniel, who spoke in complete sentences, and seemed a bit intellectual, which appealed to me. I decided to make a play for him. I need not have bothered. I arranged to sit next to him, and he soon put his hand on my nylon covered thigh. I went to the bathroom, removed my pantyhose, and returned. I took his hand and placed it right back on my now bare thigh.

As we drank and talk, his hand climbed up my thigh. I did nothing, I just kept right on babbling away. His arm kind of pushed up my skirt, too, but I simply let it do that. He pushed my legs apart a little more, and I let it happen. His hand finally reached its goal, and I saw his eyes get wide when he realized I had not just removed my nylons, but I had also removed my panties.

Another man, Brian, figured out what was going on, and dropped something, so that he had to scramble under the table to retrieve it. All he really wanted to do was to look up my skirt. I spread my legs wider to make it easy for him. After this, Brian and Dan were like putty in my hands.

All five men decided to leave, and to "go for a walk." They asked me to join. I told them I did not want to cramp their style, and they laughed. They told me I was the best thing that had happened to them in a long time. They invited me over, "to continue the party." I agreed readily.

They lived in Brooklyn, and we all piled into two Lyft cars. Dan and Brian took me in one car, and the other three men took the other car. Dan openly fingered me during the ride to Brooklyn. Brian got his hands under my blouse and unhooked my bra. He then enjoyed my boobs with his hands, tweaking my nipples.

When I walked from the car to Dan's apartment, my blouse was open, my bra was barely hanging on, and my skirt was rumpled. It was not subtle. Dan let us in, and five minutes later I was naked. Ten minutes later the other three men showed up.

Drinks were poured, and all the men took turns feeling me up. I was wondering what would happen. The idea of more than one man in one night, once unthinkable, for me now had a precedent, thanks to that bastard womanizer, Mr. Scarpin. After a while, Dan led me to his bedroom, and the men stayed behind in the living room, drinking and making crude remarks.

Dan and I made love, and it was quite pleasant, even if it was forgettable. Then he asked me if I wanted another drink? I said, "Yes. I'll get us some. You wait here, my love. Beer for you?" He nodded, smiling.

I threw on one of Dan's T shirt, and I went to the kitchen, smiling, naked under the T shirt, and with a cum filled pussy. I was happy. I had not even tried, and already I had success. Maybe I would even get pregnant?

But I needed more men, to confuse the issue of who knocked me up. I was calm: I still had two weeks left to find another two men. There were also four men right there. But it would be better to do this another night, with another anonymous man.

So, I was relaxed, and enjoying myself. Brian started talking to me, and I forgot about bringing Dan his beer. The men were playing cards. They asked me to join. I brought Dan his beer, and he came back out with me, and we both joined the card game. It was poker, and I quickly lost all of my chips. The men said I could continue to play, but for kisses.

I was no feeling no pain, since Brian was making me nice mojitos, and so far that evening I had had three in the bar, and three more at Dan's. Dan had run out of fresh mint, but I was already plastered. I agreed to the stakes.

The next time I lost I had to give Zeke a kiss. I gave him a peck on the cheek, and he complained loudly. So, we kissed, even open mouth, and while we kissed he pushed up my T shirt and he felt up my boobs. The other four men were watching, I got really turned on.

I ended up kissing all the men, of course. The liberties the men took with me as we kissed got bolder and bolder. By the time we got to Steve, who was the fourth man to kiss, he wanted his kiss on his cock. I smiled wickedly and kissed his cock. I "kissed it" by taking the whole damn thing into my mouth, right up to his balls.

Steve groaned and begged me to continue, but I said, "No. That was your kiss."

All the men ganged up on me, telling me how hard it was for Steve to be teased like that, and that he would get blue balls. I said he could go jack off in the bathroom. Finally, Zeke said he could eat me out while I blew Steve. I decided what the heck, and I gave Steve a blowjob. I did not give him an ordinary blowjob; I gave him one of my special ones -- the type a man never forgets.

Brian was the last to win a kiss, and by this time, he began to finger me as we kissed. I was panting as he fingered me. I was now aroused beyond all reason.

Brian got up, took my hand and pulled me up, and led me to the middle of the room. He placed me on all fours. Quick as a wink he began to fuck me rear entry. I did not see it coming, and I gasped in surprise when he entered me, but I did not protest nor try to get him to stop in any way. Instead I began to moan. Another man, Zeke, slid underneath my and played with my dangling, swinging boobs as Brian plowed away.

Dan came in front of me, and presented his hard cock to my mouth. I took it in my mouth, and lovingly gave him a blowjob. It was not easy, since Brian was rocking me enthusiastically, and I had to concentrate to keep Dan's cock in my mouth. Suddenly, it happened.

For the first time in my life, I came during a fuck. The orgasm arrived without warning, and it washed over me like a tsunami. I actually screamed in pleasure as it overwhelmed me. I was in heaven. Finally, I had cum during a fuck. Granted, these were highly unusual circumstances, to say the least. But it had happened. If it happens once, it can happen again. I was ecstatic.

I let Brian finish of course, and now two men had taken me, and my mission was done. I finished my blowjob and then I was ready to go home. The men were amazed I took on two of them at once. I let all of them feel me up while naked, and I was praised to the rafters. Zeke offered to see me home.