Androshorts - the Perfect Jezebel

Thanks again to the Great BlackRandI1958 for inviting me to another author challenge.

My regular readers will detect a similar kind of vibe from 'My Friend/his Sister' and it was written around about the same time and does hold some recycled material from that story and a line I never followed.

But as usual there's nasty villains, a mostly gorgeous heroine, perfect hero and of course a happy ending.

AO

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In Flats 1 to 4 we kind of considered ourselves a family.

Our house was a large, well-maintained, turn of the century country house, leastways it had ONCE been in the country, but the town had gradually spread itself further and further out and the country was now at least a mile further down the road.

It was a huge place and it's previous manifestation was as a doctor's practice, and my five ground floor rooms still had some interesting lumps and bumps on the wall where things had been screwed to the wall once and original hardwood flooring that looked AMAZING but was a bit cold on the feet.

An old photo in the foyer showed the place in Edwardian, red-bricked grandeur. Those red bricks had been rendered over post-war due to bomb damage and a cheap repair made with non-matching bricks.

The white painted plaster looked good though, and was repainted once every three years according to our maintenance agreement.

I had half of the ground floor while Tony had the other half. The upstairs flat was owned and occupied by a very nice couple called Jane and Rick while the one above me was empty since the previous occupant Mr Hanaghan, could no longer manage the stairs and moved to a warden controlled bungalow.

We all got on very well and had regular summer barbecues where we got together and invited along a few friends or close family.

For me that was an occasional boyfriend or my parents and/or my sister and brother-in-law and my gorgeous niece Emma. She was also my gorgeous daughter Emma.

My big sister Roxie (Roxanne after the 'Police' song; not really convinced our slightly hippy parents and really thought that one through.) had suffered a horrible childhood cancer, the treatment of which had rendered her infertile, after her and her husband Derek had been through hell trying various medical techniques (I donated eggs -- ouch!) to get her pregnant.

When that was unsuccessful the tried to adopt through official and global means, but the various agencies only ever seemed to want foster carers. So nagged by my airy-fairy-new-age-hippy Mum I agreed to be a surrogate mother for her.

My guilty secret was that after very expensive and very uncomfortable (for me at least) 'in vitro' operations, the third looked like it had been unsuccessful when I came on.

I was on all kind of fertility medications, things to help me conceive, so when I felt that faint sting that was me ovulating, I rang Derek at work and told him to take an afternoon off like me and come to my house.

I already told them that whatever the fertility specialists had put in had come out, as I'd come on, so when he arrived, I told him that while I was still willing to have a child for my big sister, I couldn't go through all of the injections, egg harvesting, legs in stirrups shit for a fourth time, and why didn't he just screw me.

Derek was very tall, dark and quite good-looking and I hadn't had sex in almost two years, and if I had to get pregnant there were worse ways, believe me.

Derek arrived looking rather sheepish, but not like he was wholly alien to the idea, I was quite like my sister but with shorter hair and more curves.

"Let's get on with then," I said, and we retreated to my king-size and did just that.

While it wasn't about pleasure ostensibly, it was really nice and I confess that Derek did make me come...

Both times...

Yes, we stripped naked and he screwed me rigid, and I do mean that. After coming down from our first, Derek went to my kitchen and made two mugs of tea, just as I was adopting the various positions recommended to get his sperm at least roughly in the right part of my body for them to get near my waiting egg.

Laying on back with my legs against the wall, I drank my tea and we chatted and chuckled like we usually did, the only difference being our nakedness and the fact he'd screwed me to a quite unexpected orgasm.

Keeping my knees pinched together I flipped over with my shoulders flat to the bed and my shapely arse in the air and my flushed and wet puss on display.

"You have a perfect arse, you know Andrea," he said, a hand trying to hide his obviously stiffening penis, "you're having quite the effect..."

I reached out and put my hand to his hardening cock,

"Well don't waste it Del," I said, "If you can go again, do so!"

He did so, climbing up behind me and pummelling my perfect arse, perfectly.

I came again and it was huge, just as he did.

I could sense his guilt at what had been a most amazing fuck; OK, this was about getting me pregnant with his child, but I don't think either of us had considered emotions and feelings.

After getting his breath back, he rapidly dressed, explaining that medical science had proved that the female orgasm was in fact the mouth of the cervix being pushed down to where the pool of semen would be after sex, and the enjoyment aspect was very important in the process of...

"Of course Derek," I said, "let's hope that it did the trick!" I reached a hand to his, still with my well fucked arse in the air, "Don't worry, this will ALWAYS be our secret Derek... OK?"

"I..."

"Ooooohkay?!" I added with some vehemence.

"OK Andrea,"

"I don't want Roxie to know about this OK? If I get pregnant then we can say it was the last set of in vitro, can't we."

Perhaps I was being a bit unreasonable about this; my brother-in-law had just fucked me twice but with a view to getting me pregnant in a less uncomfortable and considerably cheaper way, but which flew in the face of his marriage vows, and that might result in my sister never speaking to me, or him, again.

It had been fine to start with, a really nice missionary fuck with no passion, over then a quick 'thank you' kiss after he pulled out, with a easy and well-received come for me into the bargain.

But then we spoiled it, he fucked me a second time and it was just that, a quick and dirty fuck with both of us moaning and groaning our way to an outrageous come, only a few cheeky smiles and hissed encouragements away from a slapped arse and him pulling on my ponytail.

He left far too quickly, and I could see it had could been a huge mistake. I knew my sister well enough to argue that it wasn't her having the numerous injections, tablets anymore and that bastard of a time when they harvested eggs straight from my ovaries.

Having her sperm donor screw me on a sunny weekday afternoon twice was far better than that any day.

It was with some relief that six weeks later and no period that I used one of the pregnancy tests I'd been given. It was positive so that Saturday I invited the gang to my huge shared garden for a barbecue and after telling Roxie I could no longer drink alcohol, eat soft cheese etc, I handed over the tester I'd used that morning that was still saying I was pregnant.

Mum and Dad were overjoyed, probably more so than a slightly stunned Roxie and Derek were.

"Oh Darlings!" crooned mum, "that's so perfect! Tell me," She said lowering her voice, but not that much, "I'm guessing it's from when Derek came over that time?"

"What?" I said in more shock then my soon-to-be-mother sister had looked.

"Roxanne told us," she said looking at my Dad, "such a wonderful thing, and so much better than all that medical nonsense that has cost Roxie and Del a second mortgage.

Roxanne looked across the garden with a cheeky smile,

"Yeah bitch, why couldn't you have suggested that two years ago, would have saved us a bloody fortune!" There was no suggestion of anger or bitterness from her though. 'Bitch' was a common term of endearment between us and had been for years.

I gave her a look half-cheeky, half-apology just in case she bore me any ill will. The booze flowed (not for pregnant ol' me of course) and Roxie came and sat next to me.

"Thanks again Babe," she slipped an arm through mine, "during that last procedure I did start to worry that our use of your womb and ovaries might just be coming to an end, far better idea!"

"Yeah," I said, "so much easier in the long run."

"And Del is very good at it..."

"No complaints from me Rox, the second one was most enjoyable."

"Yeah he told me it was," she paused and took a breath looking down, "I owe you so much Andi, I can't complain about my husband screwing you so we can have a child... well... I pretty much owe you everything."

She gave a hint of a sigh and I could detect some emotion in her normally smiling face.

"Rox..."

"I'm fine hun," she said perking up, "you're going to have the baby I can't, that's all the emotion honest."

"I'll look after it and keep it warm until I hand it over I promise!" I tapped my still flat belly.

We hugged, and I only had sex with her husband once more, eight months later and heavily pregnant, baby showing no sign of wanting to come into the world, Mum's suggestion that hot sex and hot curries were good for 'getting things going'.

So we, the three of directly involved, went out for said curry and had a great evening. Dropping me back at my place, Rox and Del came in, ostensibly to check I was OK.

"For Christ's sake Del, take Andi to her bed and see if you can help our joint child into the world!"

I reached out a hand and took his, pulling him to my room where I pulled off my maternity clothing and bending over the end of my bed, the only way I could even consider what was to come next. Derek came up behind me and I felt him slip inside. It was a nice fuck, but I was so full of his child that I couldn't begin to feel the slightest bit sexy.

Once he'd sorted me out, I was helped into bed, and he went through to the kitchen and told his wife just what we'd done.

My water broke two days later, and I gave birth to my niece at a little after two that afternoon with both my Mum and sister in the room.

It was a bit of a tug to give that tiny person away later that day, but I'd known from the start that was going to be the case and I survived, providing her with my expressed breast milk for another three months. Roxie tells her all the time that Auntie Andi gave birth to her, and I'm very much part of that little family. While I appear on her birth certificate, she has been formally adopted by Rox and Del and are the prefect little family

She comes to stay with me quite every now and again and we have a great time, my garden being that much bigger than her parents one.

My pregnancy did arouse some interest at work of course and with other friends. Most of my colleagues and friends were aware that I was doing a surrogacy for my sister and brother-in-law, not quite exactly how I finally got pregnant of course, that was one for my close family of course.

Only not quite.

Tony knew. Tony had the opposite flat from mine on the ground floor and had heard my Mum talking in the garden.

I really liked Tony. Tony was funny, Tony was silly, Tony was gorgeous.

Tony was a 10, but not enough of a 10 to realise it, which in my view kind of made him an 11, possibly even a 12.

At the end of maternity leave (yes, I still had it) I was relaxing in our huge garden, trying to top up my June suntan before going back to work. I was a manager at a travel agency, I loved my work and always have, and the suntan is kind of a requirement.

So, I was laying in the garden in a teeny bikini, with the bra straps undone when I heard him behind me,

"Wow, you got your figure back so well Andi, you look amazing!"

"Thanks," I said holding my bikini top to my big tits that I'd just stopped expressing milk from, "apparent the breast feeding helps. Still got these though," I said showing the stretch marks on my flanks.

Tony stopped talking and his mouth hung open as he got to ogle me in four small triangles of red cloth. We exchanged a few looks and I blushed, I hoped he might start to chat me up a bit and ask me out to dinner.

"So, I hear it wasn't in a test tube then Andi?" he said with a grin he thought was cheeky.

He must have heard Mum, no point denying it.

"No, I went for the cheaper and less complicated option, and it was successful."

He grinned; I felt the tiniest bit grubby for the first time.

Tony was a fitness trainer, working for individuals but more often running post-school-run 'boot camps' for dozens of yummy mummies, then fitness classes for older people all the way up to pensioners sessions in the nearby community centre or rest homes.

Two days younger than me, we'd had several shared birthday parties in our garden and had always gotten on.

The weekend after my sunbathing episode we'd had another barbecue and we'd gotten on really well. Having now delivered and no longer donating breast milk, I got very drunk quite quickly and we ended up snogging into the late evening, both getting rather steamy with things. I'd never been so turned on in my life, and in the darkness of our garden he had his hands up my shorts and in my panties fingering me, while I was quite successfully wanking him.

Semi-naked we made it back to my place and were in my bed and ready to go.

I pulled the condom on him, laid back with an expectant smile and spread legs, guiding him into me.

He thrust a few times until I felt him tremble and thrust a few times hard and fast, and that was him for the evening.

He rolled off of me and lay back with a stupid smile, while I was left high but definitely not dry. My requests for a little manual support was greeted with a pissed snore.

I finished myself off that night. OK, it had been quite good fun up until his rather quick finish, and we were both quite pissed but still. I'd expected more from the hot bodied gym shark.

It became a weekend thing; he'd come across on a Saturday night. I'd do dinner, we retreat to the sofa then end up in bed, but I limited the booze. It did help a bit, doubled the length of time he could go for, but it was still quite short, especially when compared to both times when I got pregnant. He'd stay and have Sunday Lunch with me, then it was back to his flat.

It went on for some time, but like all reasonably good things it came to end.

Her name was Anna-Louisa Tyrwhitt-Gray and God forbid you called her anything else. She would blanche if she was called just 'Ann' then correct you and would storm off should anyone make it 'Annie'.

She would spell 'Tyrwhitt' loudly and inform those listening that she was Gray 'with an A', even when it was fast food deliveries. She was blonde, gym-attender curvaceous, glamorously pretty with pouty red lips and looked amazing in her air hostess uniform. She started out being nice and friendly, but I knew the second her eyes locked with Tony that my occasional 'Saturday night fuck-buddy' understanding was over.

Jane from upstairs gave me a sad look, knowing that the downstairs residents had mutually perked up the occasional Saturday evening and even a few Sunday mornings, but with that clash of eyes across our autumnal garden I knew that in our little group of five I was suddenly the spare.

It didn't start that evening, not for a week even, but I knew that the hot gym shark wouldn't be giving his downstairs neighbour the time of day, just in case it ruined any chance he might have with the air hostess.

We had been fuck-buddies and we'd had at least eight months and around twenty shags to make it something more than that, but we hadn't. It had been nice sex but not wonderful, orgasmic, earth-shattering like with my brother-in-law. Tony was quite passionate before and during, but afterwards he was back to being smiley-jokey neighbour again. He'd certainly never looked at me in the way he looked at Anna-Louisa.

I was annoyed about that; I had no reason to be, and no claim to Tony's affections over and above a few fucks. With the benefit of hindsight over the next chilly and lonely Saturday night filled months, I realised we only ever shagged in MY bed, ate MY food in MY kitchen, watched MY TV and made out on MY sofa.

I'd been the easy, commitment-free fuck that was always there, good for a quite a few free meals when his fridge was empty and would never need to be introduced to his mates or God forbid his parents.

He stopped being around for my family parties when MY family were there, not after we'd slept together at least, whereas he'd always popped out into the garden once the barbecue was lit for a burger before we'd bumped our bits.

There used to be a fire pit lit and some fireworks for the 5th of November, always, and people would come especially. My family and Rick and Jane's and we'd share the cost. Rick would buy and set-off the rockets and things, while Jane and I would cater for the dozen or so friends and family. Yes, Tony would open his patio doors and watch, standing wherever the free food was being distributed, nursing a single can of beer.

Anna-Louisa had complained. She didn't like fireworks she insisted, complaining that she had an early flight the next morning and it would keep her awake. Jane asked where and the proud attendant announced it was to Singapore and a long day. Rick said we'd have the party early and he get the quieter fireworks.

She grimaced and said it was still not suitable. Jane asked what time her flight was,

"0400," said the peaky princess.

"There aren't any listed flights to Singapore on the 6th," said Jane holding up her phone, already having the measure of Anna-Louisa Tyrwhitt-Gray.

"Well..." she stumbled, "it's unlisted, I don't..."

"It's half an hour lovely," said Jane mirroring Anna-Louisa Tyrwhitt-Gray's favourite smile, "you'll sleep through it, trust me."

We had our usual evenings delights and of course Tony appeared, standing next to the barbecue, my lovely Dad handing him a burger in a bun that he then filled with salad and pickles, stopping to sip from his one can of beer. In the flashes from the sky, I saw that he'd obviously refreshed his can as it now had a 7-11 shop price tag which the previous one hadn't.

Mean bastard.

Yes, he was a mean bastard, but in my heart of hearts I still fancied him. The next Friday I saw him as I was bringing my three heavy bags of groceries in from my car.

"Big dinner?" he said.

This was Tony shorthand to check if I had someone coming in.

"No," I said, "just little old me."

I waited for his offer of help to carry them in, see if there was anything he liked and the suggestion that he drop by and bring the wine.

It never came. Instead, it was followed by a 'well you have a great weekend'.

I carried my bags in grumpily. As I unpacked stuff into my freezer, I thought back to the last time he'd come over and we'd fucked. It had been a month ago, no five weeks, the day before Anna-Louisa moved in.

That was it of course.

She was prettier than me, blonder than me, probably four or five years younger than me, but without my curves.

She was also without my stretch marks and the I doubt she'd been in labour for five hours while she gave birth to a child for her sister. She didn't have a sister mind you, she had I brother I was to learn.

That Saturday evening, I was to find out where Tony went for his Saturday evening dinners now. As if it was karma thumbing its mythical nose at me, I was just settling into a Netflix marathon when the doorbell rang.

There was four of them but because I was flat number one, my bell was always the first. In my single-girl onesie I rolled off my armchair and stumped across to the front door. I swung the door open and there was a young lad in a pizza delivery uniform. He looked at the label on the end of the box.