by Jen Eastwood
I let Elena ease herself down the rest of the way. The feeling when our hips met left me in awe, like I had just explored uncharted territory. Her tight cunt felt like a boa constrictor, the walls trying to choke the life out of my cock.
“Easy, it still kinda hurts.” She planted a hand between my pecs and leaned back. Her eyes closed, the first cock she'd ever had rocking against places even her fingers hadn't explored.
I couldn't take my eyes off her, watching the corners of her mouth drift upward. Her other hand landed on me as Elena bent forward. “Easy, don't hurt yourself.”
“But it feel so good.” She lunged forward even more, her lips meeting my left ear. I fought against making myself come at the first opportunity, her tight walls gripping me like a perfect mold of my shaft. “Am I being a bad girl?”
“Do you want to be?”
Elena stopped in place, the back wall of her cunt crushing the head of my cock. “But it's wrong.”
Heaven would be this, right now, for-fucking-ever. I gave her a quick thrust, making Elena surge forward and scream into my neck. She pulled herself back, planting both palms against my abs, not sure of what to do next.
I wrapped my arms around Elena's back. She slid against me, pushing the walls of her incredibly tight pussy against me. For the first time, I believed I'd be happy raising kids.
I quieted the voice of biology, lowering myself and thrust back in. Elena hugged around my waist, tensing her thighs until her knees knocked together. The poor girl had come so far already, but I felt like the test drive hadn't even gotten to the road.
Her breath steamed against my ear. “Why does it feel so good?”
I stabbed another thrust into her. Elena collapsed against my chest, whimpering as her passage gripped me like an undersized rubber. I fought to pull it back, finally getting my length out against the pull of her cunt. “Roll over.”
She did. I gripped Elena's throat between my thumb and the rest of my fingers. She tried to say something, but it only came out as a ragged breath.
This is mine? I must have been a saint in a past life. Elena wrapped her hands around my forearm, forcing my palm harder against her neck. I never knew that kind of naïve mixed with wanting to be used so well.
I pushed back inside her, fighting against the traction of her walls. Elena closed her legs around me, the balls of her feet pushing against my back. I finally reached rock-bottom, her lips opening into a hard moan that put a lighter to my fuse.
“Put a baby in me,” Elena drew me in with everything she had. “Please!”
I felt the twitch under my cock. Fucking do it, she's begging you. I pulled back and watched her writhe her shaved, perfectly tight walls against every inch of me. Everything from the finger dipping between her lips, right down to the way she wrapped her feet around my neck told me to just let go with it.
I looked at my phone, knowing Boyce wouldn't be able to tear his eyes away. I focused back on Elena, giving her a hard plow right into the heartland. “Is that what you want?”
Her fingers wrapped around my arms as I plowed into her. Elena tried to speak, her voice warping around the force of what I'd just driven into her each time. She was too beautiful and innocent to even comprehend, no matter how hard I buried my cock in her.
Fuck, I want to come in this pussy so bad it hurts. I fought back the urge to just go insane, slowing myself down and wrapping my hands around Elena's waist. Damn it.
She didn't seem to mind. I drove in slow as her chin flew back, the sound of outright pleasure ringing out from between her lips. Elena had thrown my fantasy of fucking her in the garbage, replacing it with the kind of screw I couldn't have imagined, even if I tried.
Precome almost dribbled when I pulled out of her. She gripped at my ribs, trying to bring me back in. “Easy, champ.” I flipped Elena over to her side, putting her left leg up on my shoulder. It had spread her as wide open as she could get.
“Don't stop,” Elena put her fingers on her clit as if by instinct. “I want it back inside me.”
“Why?” I spit in my palm and rubbed it down my length.
“I want your babies.” Elena pinched her clit and went to town on it. “That's all I want.” Her head rocked back.
My dick pulsed in my hand, begging to get back into the game. I stared at my phone and gave the lens a shrug. This'll fucking kill him.
Elena shot her leg up, crashing the back of her thigh against my neck. “Now, please.”
She kept rubbing her clit like an eraser against a mark that shouldn't have happened. I leaned forward, gripping her jaw and holding her head steady. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want!”
One hard thrust, my abs hitting the back of her thighs, drove the poor thing wild.
“God!”
“Tell me what you want.”
Elena went with the flow, her mouth staying open, every push forcing a scream out of her throat.
I slowed down and pushed her face into the bed as I tired impaling her entire body on my shaft. “Tell me.”
She whimpered into the sheets, burying her face in her hands and the mess of covers. Everything about her cunt begged for me to lose myself.
“If you won't tell me, tell him.” I pointed at my phone, knowing Elena had no idea what I was doing.
“Don't stop!” Elena yelped again, fighting against my arms to clamp her thighs tight. The rush from my sack welled up. Don't you fucking do it.
I wanted to leave it in and just let the come go. Elena curled herself inward and buried her face in her hands. It just drove me forward, threatening to set me off before I even knew what was happening. Fuck it, just knock her up already.
A thick rope shot across her body, making a line from her hips all the way up to just beneath Elena's tits. My fingers wrapped around my based, every part of me wishing I'd have just left it inside. I could tell she would have wanted that too, the look in Elena's face changing from pure happiness to sadness in an instant.
The last dribbles flowed out and I put my hand on her shoulder. Her fingers wrapped around the back of my hand. “Why did we do that if you weren't going to put a baby in me?”
Hell, I don't have an answer for that. I cocked my head. “Maybe you weren't ready for it.” She really wasn't, but the ache in my nuts from saying it almost killed me.
Elena rolled onto her back, her hair still wet and soaking the comforter. The perfection in that girl's body was almost enough to make me a believer. Whatever designed her certainly loved mankind.
I knew the video was still rolling. Elena looked me right in the eyes. “You owe me after that.”
“Owe you what, exactly.”
She smiled and rubbed her stomach. “Even if it's not for God, I still want a baby.”
That was the one part of her old self I let stick around. You haven't lived until you've had a girl begging to be bred, and it was a fucking fight not to come inside her, every damn time.
I leaned back and clicked the link for Unity Fellowship's live stream. The record of what I did to Elena was sent as soon as it wrapped up, but I was on pins and needles waiting for Boyce to get to his pulpit.
He sulked into view and planted his hands on the corners of the damn thing, gripping with all he had. “As you may already know, my dear Elena has left the congregation for a life of sin and debauchery.” The shit-eating grin on my face went wicked. “Pray for this lost soul, and beg The Lord for her deliverance from evil.”
I pulled the earbuds free of my head as Elena started on Sunday brunch. She cracked eggs into the skillet as I made my way over to her. She turned her head as I put my arms around her, my hands diving below for a feel. “You look happy this morning.”
That was an understatement. She had rocked my world several times already this weekend. I couldn't think of a single surface in the apartment I hadn't fucked her on by that point.
“Just happy to see you.” Bullshit. I was obsessed with her by this point. I snuggled close and drift
ed my fingers past her panties.
“Your little friend down there is too.”
“You think so?”
Elena reached her free hand behind her as she stirred the eggs for scrambling. Fingers wrapped around my shaft on the other side of my boxers. “I'm sure he is.”
Our bodies smashed together as she tried to keep cooking. I put my mouth against her ear and asked, “Kinda hot in this kitchen, don't you think?”
She nuzzled her cheek against mine. “It's perfect to me.”
Life is pretty fucking good right now. “Don't mind me.” I backed away and slid my cock out of my boxers. As I leaned back in, I pushed Elena's panties to the side and teased with the head. My perfect little fuck doll didn't mind a bit as I pushed inside her, now or whenever.
BIMBO CODE 5:
ROUGH LIMIT
I had been lying low since Elena moved in. We had made all of two trips outside of the apartment since Reverend Boyce's sermon. I hadn't told her about it, thinking it would be best if Elena could leave her past life completely behind.
Lounging around the house and having my way with her was fun and all, but I knew the savings I had built up would be wiped out after I replaced my car with a definite upgrade. And I'm not even getting paid for fucking her unless I knock her up. I didn't have it in the cards for her anyway, no matter how much Elena begged for it.
The only odd thing was her reaction to music, or any other bit of culture, that wasn't based around religion. Listening to internet streams that weren't controlled by her parents or ex blew her mind. Elena was naïve enough that navigating the outside world without me would be dangerous.
Elena was perched on one of the bar stools, her left foot pulled onto the seat as she painted her toenails a milky pink. The habits of keeping herself looking flawless at all times and taking care of food was payment enough, especially since I had free use of Elena's body any time I pleased.
It's time to tell her, though. She had asked how I made my living. Waving the question away worked the first time, but having to project my will to shut her up started wearing on me.
I poured a glass of water out of the fridge. Elena didn't pay me any attention as I took a sip and placed the glass down behind her on the bar.
She took a moment to finish a toe and looked back at me. “You're awfully quiet.”
“If I tell you what my job is, you probably wouldn't believe me.”
“That was sudden.” Her shoulders rose as she continued. “I'm sure there's a good reason you've got money. Nobody can drop a few thousand on a stranger without providing something people want.”
Not sure I'd go with 'something people want,' but whatever. “Have you heard of a company called GeneFactor?”
Elena abandoned the nail polish and spun around to face me. She shook her head and then asked, “What do they do?”
“To be honest, I'm not completely sure myself. The only thing I do know is that they pay me well for what I do for them.”
“And that is?” She rested her hands and elbows on the counter top, her shoulders squared at attention as she leaned forward.
“I guess the best way to put it is...” The description on the tip of my tongue was right on the nose, but damn is it hard to get out. “I'm a sperm donor.”
Elena's head shot back. “No.” She frowned and narrowed her eyes. “What's your real job?”
I reached for my glass and took another sip. “Have you seen me go to an office or anything since we met?”
“You own stock in them or something.”
My hands gripped the other side of the bar as I leaned toward her. “I get five thousand every time I make a donation. Hold on while I get something.”
I had kept the binder tucked away under the bed, hidden in a tote full of random bachelor junk and notebooks from college that should have been thrown out years ago. I got in there and bent down, sliding the bin out and opening the lid. It felt thicker than I remembered, even though I had used and emailed snapshots of a little more than twenty of the forms inside.
Tucking the binder under my arm, I got back to Elena. “Here, read through this.” I sat the binder on the stool next to her. “It's basically my job manual.”
She had started on the other foot, but the pinky toe she had already finished would be long dry before she would get to the rest. “You need all of this to tell you how to jerk in a cup?” She hadn't started cussing from being around me just yet, but 'jerk in a cup' was a definite landmark for her.
“There's more to it than that, but it explains the medication I have to take as well.”
She put the cap back on the nail polish and put the tome on the counter. She flipped open the cover, seeing the red 'confidential' stamp on the first page. “GeneFactor Human Optimization Program,” she read, “The viewing of all contents contained herein requires signature of non-disclosure form 189-C.”
“It's not like they'll know if you read it.” The whole explanation reminded me that Cynthia had called and wanted to see me that afternoon. I looked at the ornate clock I had bought and hung on the wall. Ten minutes late already. I gave Elena a pat on the hand and rushed toward the door. “I've gotta run out for a few hours. Go ahead and read some of that.”
Whether Elena would still be there after reading it, I didn't know.
My ride slowed down as it got close to GeneFactor's office. The driver made the final turn and asked, “On the right or the left? My GPS doesn't recognize the place.”
“Left.” I saw a news van from WKNF parked on the street. “What the hell is this?”
“Don't know man,” the driver was ready to boot me out to pick up his next fare. “Maybe I'll drive you back home later.”
The Prius came to a halt. “Yeah, maybe later,” I said as I got out, never taking my eyes off the van and the broadcast dish up top.
What kind of fresh hell is this? I crossed the street and slid between parked cars, walking as fast as I could toward the door.
The practiced voice of a small-market reporter rang out. “Excuse me, sir?” It got louder. “Sir?”
Heels clacked faster behind me as I picked up the pace. Don't even turn around, just get inside. I had my fingers on the handle when I saw the microphone shoot in front of my face.
“Can you tell us what GeneFactor does, and why it's funding comes from undisclosed sources overseas?”
I looked over, the brunette in front of me almost knocking me over, both with questions and the way she looked. The lone cameraman had the usual neckbeard you see on those guys. I turned back around, knowing better than to say a word.
The door closed behind me and I made a few steps into the lobby. The sound of the lock clasping shut made me turn around. Dr. Clare took her fingers off the knob. She had been right inside the entry the whole time.
She tipped her glasses down like I expected her to. “You're late.”
“I had to catch a ride. I totaled my car last week.”
Dr. Clare power-walked past and then ahead of me. “Come on, we need to talk about something.”
“I think I can guess what.”
I followed Dr. Clare into the same unnaturally bright hallway, “Yes, I'm pregnant, but that's not the issue.” She passed by her office and the exam rooms. I watched her punch some numbers into a keypad on a door on the right, and then I heard it beep. “What you're about to hear can't leave this building.”
Fuck, another one of these hallways? It led to a single door at the end, paintings hanging one each side of the passage. I recognized Prometheus Brings Fire to Mankind from an art history elective several years back, but the rest of them were new to me. Lots of gods and deities in them though.
Dr. Clare stopped me right before we went in. “Don't make yourself out like even more of an idiot than you've already been.”
Am I in trouble or something? She led me in, sticking behind me this time.
Solid wood wainscoting and marble adorned the entire room. A single desk sat in the middle, flanked by an entire
wall of books. But nobody was there.
“Where the hell is he? That man's just as unreliable as you are, Grant.”
“What man?”
“Just sit, I'll go find him.” She left into a passage off to the side.
The studded leather of a black baxton armchair squeaked under me. I guess he's higher up the totem pole. At the very least, I was damn glad I hadn't risked bringing Elena with me.
I sat there for a while, twiddling my thumbs and staring at the antique globe to the right of the desk. The lack of shine and the hilariously inaccurate shape of anything that wasn't Europe told me it was centuries old. Whoever this guy was, he could certainly afford to pay me what he had.
I finally heard Dr. Clare's voice again. She was quiet and a bit away, but definitely getting closer. It went from murmuring to something I could make out. “What do they know so far?”
An Australian accent was right there with her. “Only enough to be irritating.”
“It's still a mess we need to contain.”
“Right, but it's not an emergency, yet.”
He entered first, his white button-down looking like it had never seen an iron. Brown cargo shorts and dock shoes made him kinda hard to take seriously, right along with his shaved head. Dr. Clare was right behind him, holding a folder she didn't have before.
The guy looked at me as he neared his desk. “I hear you put an ankle-biter in the good doctor here. I got a laugh out of that one.” He didn't sound like the rural, different kind of redneck stereotype exactly. He seemed classy in that 'I'm so rich I give no fucks' way, despite his outfit. He was off to a decent start with me, either way.
I grinned and took the hand he offered, doing that weird ritual men do where we see who can grip the hardest. It was roughly a tie. “Grant Jensen, sir.”
“No need for all that. I'm Janus Rickard.” We finally let go of each other. “I run this little outfit, and I sign off on your checks.”