He pulled me close, putting his hands on my butt. I could feel him against my stomach growing and growing. My mind was blank. As a lawyer I had nothing - no augment or defense.
"I always liked your big ass. Every time I saw you with those cute little outfits, I wanted to grab that butt. You have an awesome body that no one but me will see naked after tonight. You shouldn't be surprise to know the wedding to that shit is off. I would never give you up so easily. Do you know what a honey moon really means? A man simply abducted the woman of his choice to be his bride and took her into hiding. The one-month period of time was considered associated with the woman's menstrual cycle and thus...fertility. Are you fertile? I told your father you were safe and I'd take good care of you. Did you know we are friends? No one's coming for you."
Peter threw me over his shoulder with no effort, like a pillow. He took me down a dark corridor to the last room. At first the room looked like an exercise room, which it was except for the breeding bench. Peter put me down on the bench. He wrapped a soft leather strap around my neck securing my head in place, facing forward. His hands ran down the lines of my back, spine, ribs, full, dangling breasts. His hands were always moving, always working, cinching strap after strap into place, restraining my waist, wrists, upper arms, thighs, and ankles. The slow loss of control of my situation placed increasingly more and more power over my destiny into Peter's hands. His big hand then covered my vaginal lips, clit, rubbing them slowly at first, but then quickly starting to pick up the pace, until soon my body was rocking back and forth in my bindings. I hear the cries in my ears of rising pleasure growing steadily louder and more desperate. Then, just as I was right on the edge my whole body utterly tense, as though I was about to explode into a million pieces, Peter stopped, leaving me tied to the breeding bench sobbing in desperation. I heard Peter's voice, "You're ripe."
I knew if Peter put his big penis in me, I'd get pregnant. Peter's sexy voice growling softly in my ear about what a beautiful mother I'd make, how sexy I'd be with my belly swollen with his baby; how he'd help to soothe the desperate arousal I'd have during my pregnancy with a steady diet of hot, raw sex and how he'd make sure I'd never regretted it.
Peter's big hands stroked over my tight ass and then into the cleft between my legs, rubbing everything down there with such slow, expert skill, being careful not to press too hard. Once again being me to the edge and stopping. He walked around to the front of the bench so I could see his nude body. His penis must have been 12 inches and he wasn't even fully erect. I was like 'OH shit' he's going to tear me apart. He was thick and long.
"You don't have to suck me now. I want all my juices in your womb. I haven't had a woman in a very long time -- a very long time. My purpose is to impregnate you. Not going to waste semen on your face, in your mouth or on your body. I'm going to fuck you all night into the morning before I let you go to bed. Michael made sure you were off birth control. I told him I'd hurt him if he fucked you. No lubricant so are you wet?"
Peter walked around behind me and put two fingers in my vagina. His fingers were covered with clear and stretchy ovulating discharge. Peter fisted me to get me ready. He started with two fingers, rubbing my clit and G-spot until I begged him to fuck me. While I moaned and scream he ended with a fist before stuffing that beautiful big dick in me. It's beautiful and not all mangled looking and the Peter understands its size and worth and uses it appropriately. Sex hurt until I got wet enough or I guess, stretched enough. I was so stressed the first session. Peter filled me full of baby juice, but he never pulled out. He moaned and called my name while holding my ass and spreading my cheeks.
For the second and third rounds I turned on and to the heights of orgasmic ecstasy in a deep sense of relaxation and a lack of anxiety. Peter slowed my fear, anxiety and emotion the more aroused I became; I went into trancelike state at orgasm. I wanted Peter to fuck me hard and long. I screamed his name until I came over and over. He got hard and stretched my poor vagina more. He had more semen than any lover I had. My body just sucked it all. When Peter finally pulled out there was no dripping. Nothing ran down my legs. He left me tied to that bench for what seemed like hours. My ass was up in the air with all my holes in full view.
Peter came back for the last round with a morning erection. He touched me softly and slowly. He gave me little kisses all over my face and body. His fingers played with her hair. During the hours Peter fucked the hell out of me, he learned the way around my vulva — from the tippy-top of the clitoral glans, boundaries of the my inner lips, to the smooth vastness of skin just below the vaginal entrance and anus.
I was so tired but I forgot all of that when Peter brought me to multiple orgasm. I had sexual amnesia and probable Stockholm syndrome. I forgot how the evening started. I was ready and hoping I was knocked up -- and so I was. We estimated from my due date that I go pregnant that night.
When Peter came for the fourth time, he carried me to the master bedroom. I was so cramped and my vagina hurt, I couldn't walk. I slept the entire day. Peter woke me with his famous morning erection. My vagina hurt and my cervix was bruised but I knew better than to refuse him that day or any day of our four months. Pregnant sex -- to be continued...
