Author's Note: This story has been posted to Literotica.Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.
Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell -check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
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Diane Davis shut off the vacuum cleaner and sighed with satisfaction. Of course, she knew, within moments Walker, her two year old son's return from his weekend with his father, all of the hard work would be undone.
"So, I'm not supposed to clean?" the thirty nine year old woman asked aloud to the empty condominium.
With one more look around the ground floor of her condo, Diane put the vacuum cleaner away and trotted up the stairs. Her son's bedroom was immaculate; she'd cleaned that room first. Even though it was immaculate, Diane still tugged the sheet and blanket to straighten the bedding.
Diane had resisted having children. Shortly after graduating from Walchester University with a bachelor's degree in Communications & Social Media, she'd been hired on at Prescott Conglomerates in Sweet Oak, Texas. On a lunch break, she'd met Andrew Freedlin and they'd begun a whirlwind courtship. At that time, still recuperating from a debilitating soccer injury, Diane told Andrew she wanted kids, but not right now. Her priority at that time was to rebuild her strength in that leg.
After their marriage, Diane found yet another reason to postpone the children Andrew was insisting on. She'd lost the thirty pounds her leg injury had piled on her five foot five inch frame and did not want to ruin her perfect body. Then her career was really on an upswing and she didn't want to jeopardize that.
Finally, Diane had to admit; she did not want children. She had truly never wanted children. This confession caused her malleable husband to suddenly grow a spine. She didn't want a divorce; she just didn't want kids.
Then came the infamous Holiday Party. She'd always attended with her butterball husband, so had never been tempted to overdrink, overindulge. Without Andrew there, Diane drank one too many glasses of egg nog and found herself in one of the conference rooms, ridiculously short red dress hiked up to under her armpits with a handsome blond lawyer pounding her wet pussy for all he was worth.
"Yes, God yes," Diane keened as he flooded her pussy with shot after shot of sperm.
Catching the handsome guest underneath the mistletoe as they danced, Diane plastered a steamy kiss on the man's lips and suggested they slip away to the conference room again. The conference room was busy; one of the women from the Collections department was face down between the thighs of the Human Services manager while Brad Prescott, the man himself was pounding the collections agent from behind. So Diane took the blond man into the bathroom, into the handicapped stall and squatted onto his hard cock.
Her period was late. Diane was worried; her periods were fairly regular. She hoped it was just stress but had a sinking feeling it was not.
An over-the-counter test gave every indication that somehow she was pregnant. Dr. Pruitt confirmed it; she was indeed in the family way.
Diane vaguely remembered the handsome young man; he was an attorney that Brad Prescott had hired when one of the collection agents tried to sue Prescott for wrongful termination. And, what Diane remembered, Andrew Walker was married to a stunning blonde woman. After their second frenzied fuck, Diane had seen him with the beautiful woman and had wondered just how much alcohol Andrew Walker had consumed if she'd been able to seduce him.
Her first thought upon finding out that she was pregnant focused on Andrew Freedlin, her ex-husband. The divorce was final but perhaps it wasn't too late. He was a sunken chested accountant with a pot belly and widening hips; a quick fuck and he would be delighted to hear that he was going to be a daddy.
"Of course, typical Andrew fucking Freedlin; can't do anything right," Diane smirked now as she stripped out of her housecleaning outfit of tee shirt and sweat pants, no bra and oversized granny panties.
It had been a true shock to learn that Andrew had not just sat at home pining over her. He had found himself a fat little blonde to marry.
"Jesus, Andy, just where did you meet her? Kindergarten?" Diane thought as she adjusted the lever for her shower.
Tracking down Andrew Walker was not hard; he was one Walker of Walker & Walker Law Firm, which had its offices on the second floor of 1 Alliance Square. And Andrew and his wife were both very pleased with the announcement. The husband and wife drafted up custody papers and child support; Andrew was very generous with child support, so long as Diane agreed that he and Brianna would have liberal visitation with his son or daughter. The couple already had a daughter and son and had a third child on the way and were delighted to be adding a fourth one to their brood.
Her hormones had gone crazy while she was pregnant. Diane went to line-dancing night at Rustler's BBQ and picked up two salesmen. She wasn't sure what it was that Fred and Calvin sold. She wasn't even sure if Fred and Calvin were their real names. But she had sucked cock until Fred filled her mouth with his slimy seed while Calvin pounded her pussy from behind. Then she'd tasted herself on Calvin's cock while Fred fucked her hard and fast.
In her sixth month of pregnancy, she'd picked up Jesse Watkins, a cute little boy that went nuts over her chubby ass. Diane could not believe how wide her ass had become, thanks to her pregnancy, but Jesse licked, sucked, gnawed and fingered her ass. Then he made her squeal and groan as he fucked her virgin ass.
"Diane, you've got syphilis and chlamydia," Dr. Pruitt said, lips pursed in disapproval at her seventh month checkup. "Whatever you're doing? Needs to stop before you do irreparable damage to yourself and your baby."
Since that diagnosis, Diane's lovers had all been battery operated. In truth, Diane thought she was on the verge of being addicted to dildos; she had five of the powerful toys in her nightstand drawer and a Raggedy Boy doll, complete with eight inch buzzy buzz on her bed.
Yesterday, when Diane had dropped Walker Andrew Davis off at his Daddy's house, Andrew and Brianna both Greeted Diane and Walker with happy smiles. In her arms, Brianna cradled two year old Stephanie, who was demanding to be put down so she and Walker could go play in her room.
"Hey, when we see you on Sunday? We uh, we want to talk with you," Andrew said as Drew and Andy ran up to greet their younger brother.
Now, Diane wondered what the husband and wife wanted to talk about as she toweled herself dry.
Diane draped the towel on the edge of her bed and smeared the lotion into her flesh, starting with her belly. The stretch marks were faint but Diane knew that they would never fully disappear. They were war wounds from carrying a nine pound, two ounce boy. She smiled as she rubbed the lotion into her skin.
A 'ding' from her phone alerted her to a message. Diane completed her skin care regiment then wiped her hands clean on the towel. Hands cleaned of the slimy fluid, she checked her cell phone.
'Myndee Lady Jays host Walchester Wolves, 1:00 PM CST, Blue Jay 21' the message announced.
As a former Center Midfielder for the Walchester Wolves, Diane subscribed to the Walchester Wolves Women Soccer board. Turning on her television, Diane saw that she did not receive Blue Jay 21 from her local satellite provider. A quick search showed her that there was no feed for the match.
It had been Kelli Burke, a winger for the Myndee Lady Jays that had ended Diane's soccer aspirations. The previous play, Diane had stopped Kelli's forward progress, swept the ball away from the six foot tall behemoth and attempted to pass the ball to Stacy Garner. But the ball had struck another Lady Jay and ricocheted into the goal.
On the ensuing play, Kelli charged directly at Diane and savagely swept Diane's legs as Diane's attention was on the ball. Even with reconstructive surgery, Diane was far too slow to play the game any longer. Years later, that injury every now and then resurfaced as a dull, throbbing pain.
"Think, Diane, think," Diane said as she retrieved silk panties from her drawer.
