A Fertile Competition

(Or Alexa Gets Knocked Up... Again)

[Author's Notes: This terrible work of erotic fiction is about a loving wife who enjoys a night of sordid sex with four partners, hoping to get impregnated by one of them, with the blessing of her husband. It features a lot of exaggerated sex, with little regard to the limits of biology.

One of her partners is a transwoman. Another is her brother. There is plenty of one-on-one sexual intercourse, as well as threesomes involving double penetration of the vagina. Everyone cums inside her (the point is to get her pregnant, after all). This is a heads-up in case any of the kinks presented here trigger a strong negative reaction in you.

Finally a note on chronology: the five of you reading who are invested in the ongoing story of Eroshire and its inhabitants should know this story occurs almost three years after A Sordid Arrangement. I have a lot of stories planned for this gap that have yet to happen, but as I write these stories based on what I fancy doing at the time we've jumped ahead of many events. You might notice a certain oft-mentioned character has suddenly appeared, for example. That will be explained in due course! However, as always I try to make these stories approachable for anyone who has never read any of my others, and try to include enough information from any events in other stories so you don't need to read them if you don't want to.

Lastly, a few of these wonderfully devoted fans of mine might point fingers and accuse me of retconning a certain character in this story (and maybe a few more of them). To which I have but one answer: Yes. I did. And I will again if I think up a cool idea. This setting has eldritch abominations who warp reality with their very presence while they watch Netflix. I'll try not to be too laissez-faire with the canon, for I love this world and its sex-obsessed cast very much, but at the same time I'm not treating it too seriously.

You shouldn't either, and with that said...]

"Thanks for that, you little shit," Alexa Matthews-Kent said with motherly pride, spitting small globs of vomit from her lips as the small creature that had created such a spectacular stream of half-digested food giggled, suspended in her arms.

Standing in nothing but a grubby pair of panties by the cot in her daughter's room, Alexa gave the infante terrible a look that was part tired parental weariness, and a bemused appreciation for the gastric trap little Alessia Kent had apparently set for her in the early hours of an otherwise mundane Saturday morning; all the while chunky globs of regurgitated baby food dripped down her tanned neck, making a path between her large fake breasts to trail across the eagle tattoo she had done beneath.

Drawing her daughter closer, Alexa looked deep into the brilliant green eyes of Alessia; eyes so much like her father's. "You and I need to have words about this habit of yours," Alex said. "I'm beginning to think you plan this deliberately. Crying to get my attention then barfing all over me like the little mischief-maker you are."

Alessia giggled happily. Her green eyes sparkling with malicious glee.

Cradling her daughter with one arm, while she wiped vomit from her face, Alexa sighed with the conflicted emotions only a parent could enjoy all at once. "I'm beginning to think you've got it in for me," she muttered. Raising an eyebrow that needed some work done before she showed her face to the world later, Alexa regarded her darling daughter with suspicion. "You better not be on to me..."

"Why? What have you been doing lately?"

Spinning around with daughter in arm, Alexa smiled sweetly at the man leaning casually in the doorway. "What HAVEN'T I been doing lately?" She said, piling on the sass in the hopes that her dear husband would be distracted from her brief moment of fluster.

Mark Kent was the type of man who should be on the cover of a Calvin Klein underwear ad; his charming smile making every straight woman's pussy wet, and every gay man's cock hard, while making straight men and gay women question their sexuality. Of all the many, many, many men that Alexa had fucked, Mark was by far the most handsome motherfucker of them all (and now he was quite literally a mother fucker).

Even right now - standing naked in the doorway, looking at her with those brown eyes of his in the dim light of the streetlights filtering in through the windows - he was such a picture-perfect image of masculine hotness that Alexa had a hard time fighting the urge to put Alessia down and jump him right now. They had already had sex several times earlier that evening, and no doubt Mark had rested enough to get hard again, but she was a mother now (and almost thirty!) and should act with some restraint.

Just a bit.

Mark smiled at her and walked forward, arms outstretched. "Here," he said. "Let me take her. You go clean up." Carefully accepting Alessia in his arm, Mark gestured with his other hand at his own face. "Jesus, she got you good!"

"Hmmm..." Alexa made a sound as she passed him.

She listened to Mark talk to their daughter as she headed into the bathroom, and smiled at the way he spoke to her. Mark had been upfront when they started dating that he wanted a family - a few kids, a dog, and a house in one of the more pleasant areas of Eroshire - and while Alexa had been rather blase about it at first (she really had only started dating him because he was hot), he had gradually won her over, and now here they were: one kid, a cat (larger than most small dogs to be fair), and a three bedroom property in the cosey seaside town of Petty Moore.

There was only one small issue, and the reason why Mark's comment had flustered her so...

Alessia was not his daughter. Well, not by blood at least.

They had been trying for a year after they got married, but Mark and Alexa had seemingly been incapable of conceiving, despite everything being in working order: she had seen her doctor and best friend, Leona Hunt, several times over the course of the year, and Leona had told Alexa that nothing was wrong with her (Alexa's) gear, and Mark had said his own doctors had given him a similar story.

Yet even after a year she hadn't gotten pregnant.

Splashing water over her face, Alexa watched the dirty water spiral down the sink drain as she thought about the night that had changed everything.

It began with Mark's best friend, Theodore Miller. Like Mark, Theo worked at the prestigious law firm Hills & Follett, whose headquarters were based down the coast in the city of Coytoss. A ruggedly handsome man, Theo had known Mark since they had been at school; the two of them were thick as thieves, and Alexa had crushed hard on Theo when Mark had introduced the two of them to each other.

Wiping the vomit from her neckline, Alexa wondered why she hadn't immediately jumped the tall scruffy bit of hotness that was Theo the moment Mark had introduced her to him at that big party all those years ago. It wouldn't have been the first time she would have cheated on the guy she was dating (memories of being called out in a public restaurant by an understandably angry Logan Evans caused her to briefly wince). She couldn't help it: Alexa had a problem with being faithful, and had cheated on Mark several times while they were dating and after he proposed.

But not with Theo. Maybe it was because the two men were so close that Alexa had stayed her roaming vagina. Don't shit where you eat, after all.

Yet after a year of trying for a baby and no luck, Alexa's libido won out: she and Theo had sex while Mark had been occupied after a latte had triggered his lactose intolerance. Then she and Theo had had even more sex (a truly staggering amount of sex) when Mark had gone to sleep.

Then she hadn't fucked Theo again for another three months. Long enough to confirm that he had knocked her up, and that the baby was indeed his. Still giddy with the excitement of what she'd done, Alexa hadn't given much thought about the consequences of her actions until Alessia had been born, and her daughter had opened those brilliant green eyes.

Eyes just like Theo's.

Of course she had made up some bullshit about a distant ancestor having eyes like that - Alexa was half Scottish after all - and it seemed like Mark had bought the explanation, despite his best mate looking at him with eyes just like the baby that was supposedly his every single day.

But lately Mark had been saying things that were just a little... suspicious.

Or maybe Alexa's guilt was fuelling her paranoia. Maybe her morality had finally caught onto the heinous crime she had committed by letting her husband's best friend (and best man at their wedding!) knock her up.

Cheating was one thing, but to have a child with another man, and let her husband raise that child as his own in blissful ignorance of the breach of trust she had committed?

Splashing the last of Alessia's vomit from her face, Alexa looked at herself in the mirror above the sink. Unblemished tanned skin betrayed nothing of her almost knocking on the doors of age thirty: even without makeup her blue eyes were wide and captivating, and had been the reason many men had fallen prey to her charms. Eyebrows could do with some work, but there would be plenty of time for that before she needed to leave the house later today. Her hair, done up in a loose ponytail, was a vibrant shade of gold that complimented her permanent tanned skin.

With her torso bare her fake tits - an eighteenth birthday present from daddy - rested above an expansive tattoo of an eagle with wings outstretched, the feathers of its tail bleeding into a series of celtic rings around a naval resting amongst abs shaped by frequent visits to CoyFit, a gym in the city of Coytoss just down the road from the nightclub Alexa owned and ran.

All in all, Alexa figured as she dabbed a towel over her face, she was one hot MILF.

A hot MILF with a powder keg of a secret in the form of her precocious, projectile vomiting kid and the truth behind her (Alessia's) conception. Since coming down from the erotic high of the thrill of cheating coupled with the forbidden nature of cuckolding her man, Alexa was now, with the cold logic of an accomplished businesswoman, realising that Alessia was financial ruin in the form of a giggling, vomiting, adorable child.

Hearing the soft sounds of her daughter snoring, Alexa turned to see Mark in the doorway, his arms wrapped around the gently sleeping form of their (her?) child. "Sleeping like a babe," Mark said quietly.

"Not a guilty conscience in her," Alexa muttered, giving the sleeping child a bemused look.

"Just like her mother."

Alexa glanced up at him, but the look her husband gave her was simply innocent jest. His eyes filled with such warmth and adoration for her that Alexa felt guilty for even thinking he could be insinuating he knew what she had done.

She had never met such a kind and honest man. Really: what had she done in her sordid life of sin to deserve a man such as him? But then hadn't she married him precisely because of how he was so trusting? So honest? A man who would never question why she was out late, or why she'd come back with her hair amess. Someone who would never inquire about what she was doing in times when he wasn't around.

Someone who could never catch on to her diabolical lack of faithfulness.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Mark whispered.

She smiled at him. Composed her mask to hide the worries she felt. "I just feel so lucky," Alexa said. That wasn't a lie. She was lucky to have a man like Mark in her life. Someone who would be blissfully ignorant of what she got up to in his absence.

That would quickly fall apart if he ever learned the true nature of Alessia.

*****

"You seem a little distracted."

Alexa sighed when she heard Mark's question. "How can anyone concentrate on the road with that disgusting sight in their mirror?" She said, looking directly at the rear view mirror and what could be seen happening on the back seat. "Jesus Christ, Kyle! Not over your niece!"

Her younger brother detached his lips from the short redhead seated opposite Alessia, who was sitting in her booster chair on the middle back seat between them giggling happily, to flash a grin at his sister; his large blue eyes and tanned complexion so similar to Alexa's they could be mistaken for twins. Adding to this was that Kyle was growing his hair out, and it fell all over his shoulders in curly waves much like Alexa's when she didn't spend an hour straightening it out.

"Alice doesn't mind," he said, "do you?" He ruffled the blonde curls on Alessia's head, much to the infant's delight.

"You guys can make out if you want," Sarah Ellis said from the other side of Alexa's daughter in her thick Boston accent. Freckled face splitting with a wide smile that displayed teeth far too perfect to belong in the UK. "We don't mind."

"I think if I crash the car you will definitely mind," Alexa said. Though she smiled as she spoke. She loved seeing her brother happy, and Sarah definitely made him happy. For so long she had thought of this Sarah as just another of her brother's conquests - Kyle had seduced Sarah while on a school field trip in the last year of sixth form - but now knew that Kyle had, bless him, fallen in love with the red haired American.

That she was here, sitting in the back of Alexa's car as she drove them all to an uncomfortable afternoon at her and Kyle's parent's house, in the posh Shashan Grey Estate deep in the suburbs of Coytoss, was testament to the will of a certain Erin Follett-Winters; Kyle's 'best friend with the best benefits', who had spent months trying to get in contact with Sarah and tell her that Kyle was still head-over-heels about her.

It was all sickeningly sweet, but it brought a smile to Alexa's face whenever she saw her darling brother smiling with genuine affection whenever he looked at his girlfriend, and her mind would probably never get used to the idea of her brother, who once fucked all five of her friends when Alexa had thrown a party several years back, keeping himself to one girl... well almost: Kyle still had regular sex with Erin, at Peter Follett's (Erin's husband) request and Sarah's blessing, who also liked to watch, apparently.

Voyeurism and cuckolding was plentiful in Eroshire, it seemed.

It was either that or everyone cheated on everyone, with no one ever finding out in a perpetual state of adulterous limbo; and where was the fun in that?

Alexa was happy that her brother seemed to have also escaped the shadow of misery projected from their parents. It made these frequent visitations even more depressing; reminders to Alexa of her past, and the mistakes she would not make as a parent herself.

Aside from, you know, the fact the infant giggling between her uncle and his girlfriend making out was not the product of Alexa and the man sitting in the passenger seat beside her. "Are you worried?" Mark said, obviously misreading Alexa's expression when she chanced a look at him.

"No," Alexa lied. She was always worried when she visited her parents. Worried that Kyle and her dad were going to have another argument. Worried her mother was going to get drunk and try to make a move on Mark, who always looked uncomfortable with her mother's advances.

This time she had Sarah to worry about (although the woman had assured Alexa several times that her (Alexa's) parents couldn't be more embarrassing than Sarah's, who were diehard Trump supporters and possibly the reason why he was currently enjoying his third term in office.

Then there was her growing, unfounded suspicions that Mark was close to discovering the vile truth of Alessia's conception, and that Alexa was still having regular sex on the side with Mark's best friend and colleague, Theodore Miller, among others...

...so many others.

She got tested regularly! Her friend, Leona Hunt, OBGYN, was always giving her looks when Alexa booked appointments to see her. Yet Alexa had never tested positive for any STI (either a statistical anomaly, or the rumours about Alexa's best employee were true...)

The thrill of cheating always carried the threat of discovery...

"Oh will you two stop it!" Alexa said over her shoulder. "We're here!"

Pulling up to the house, Alexa parked, pulled the handbrake, and gave her husband a look.

"It'll be fine," Mark said as he opened his door. "No one's killed anyone yet!"

"See?" Sarah said, happily. "This is already sounding better than an Ellis family gathering!"

Alexa sighed, guarding herself for what was to come.

"Oh! It's my piccolo oro!" Alessia Matthews said after she opened the door to see her children and her children's partners collected on the sanded flagstone doorstep. A woman approaching the end of her forties, Alessia had once been a highly demanded fashion model, predominantly for Italian magazines. Some questionable surgical alterations to her lips, brows and cheeks were beginning to show their age, tarnishing what should have been a beautiful face weathered by the passing of years.

Still, with her long honey blonde hair and huge blue eyes, Alessia senior was the spitting image of her daughter (and, as Mark often joked, a spoiler for how Alexa would look in twenty years).

"Hello mum," Alexa said, wrapping her arms around Alessia senior.

"Mark!" Alessia said after releasing her daughter, giving her son-in-law a kiss on the cheek. "I hope you're treating my daughter to the life she is accustomed to?" Placing both hands on Kyle's cheeks, Alessia kissed his forehead. "My baby boy! And is this the Sarah I've so much about?"

Sarah smiled. "Probably! Unless Kyle's hiding another Sarah somewhere?"

"Well..." Kyle began, cut short by Sarah's playful back-handed slap across the back of his head.

"I like her already," Alessia said. "Come inside! Your father's cooking!"

"When did dad learn to cook?" Alexa said, frowning.

"When I did," Kyle said as he followed her inside the house. "Cooked a mean meal last time I visited. Dad, of course, refused to admit he liked it."

"But he's been cooking every night since then," Alessia said, "so well done Kyle. Love your hair, young man. You're looking like you used to." She ruffled Kyle's long hair as she spoke, referring to how Kyle used to have long hair, before cutting it short after hitting puberty and realising that girls existed; entering what Alexa now referred to as his 'asshole phase'.

"Like a girl?" Alexa said, smiling sweetly at her brother's bemused expression.

A booming voice sounded through the large Matthews abode, echoing off the polished tile floor and the walls painted deep red. "Did I hear my daughter?" Jonathan Matthews said as he came out of the kitchen. A tall, heavily built man, the Matthews patriarch was a self-made millionaire, having clawed his way up the vicious ladder of capitalism to become one of the biggest landlords in Eroshire. That he was cooking food himself, instead of relying on a hired chef borrowed from one of the many restaurants that he co-owned, was unusual.

Unusual enough that Alexa forgot to escape his embrace after the usual polite three seconds: a full ten elapsed before Jonathan disengaged from his eldest child to regard the other with a look of disdain. "Still growing your hair out? You look like a faggot."

Alexa could tell Kyle had become more confident in himself, as the smile he wore seemed more relaxed than it used to be when their father attacked his identity. "Hello dad," he said. "I'm sure you remember Sarah? My girlfriend?"

"Who definitely has a vagina, so I'm afraid your son isn't gay," Sarah said coolly. "He might be a little bi, though. He and Peter get really close when they fuck me."

As she spoke Kyle brought up two forefingers, placed them together, and made little thrusting motions with his hands.