Impregnating Sarah -- Part 2

Impregnating Sarah -- Part 2

Impregnating Sarah -- Part 2

Sarah’s Early Experiences

“My mother was adopted at birth. My grandparents, at least the only grandparents I have ever known, were unable to have children of their own. So, they adopted my Mom. When she was about 17 they adopted a boy, my uncle Matt. He is 7 years older than me. As I was growing up, it seemed Matt was always around. I remember, as a young child, playing games with him at family functions. That relationship was relatively short-lived because he became a teenager, and naturally lost interest in a much younger tag-along like me. By then he had determined that dragging his young niece around to be with this friends was not very cool. But I was only 7 or 8 years old, I didn’t think much of teenage boys at that time either.

“As I grew older, about 11 or 12 years old, I developed a young girl’s crush on him – not a real romantic thing; it was more idol worship than a true crush. After all, he was a popular, good looking, high school athlete and I was a gawky, underdeveloped pre-teen, and because we were related, not by blood, but by law, I got to be with him a lot at family functions. He always seemed to be protective and caring toward me, and in looking back at it now, I can see that I misunderstood his caring, and thought he might be interested in me in a more serious way. That sounds so stupid, doesn’t it?”

“No, I don’t think so,” replied Laura. “You were very young. These emotions were brand new to you. It is not unusual at all to develop a platonic relationship with a close relative. Please continue with your story.”

“One summer, when I was 15, we went to a family reunion in the Midwest and spent two weeks visiting relatives. Most of the family lived within an hour or two of my grandparent’s house, so we used their house as our hotel. You know, we’d go visit someone but we always returned to my grandparents’ house in the evening, and when we weren’t visiting other people, we spent all our time hanging out on the porch or in their pool.

“Matt was living at home that summer and his bedroom was in the basement. I remember he had a part time job, but he seemed to be around the house most of the time. That was ok with me, because at that time, my crush on Matt was in full bloom.”

Sarah laughed quietly to herself, almost as if Laura was not in the room at all, “Here I was a 15 year old teeny-bopper trying to act sexy and flirt with my own uncle. I used to sit next to him whenever I could, at meals or when the family was sitting around talking. I remember my bathing suit! I was absolutely mortified that my Mom had me buy a plain one piece suit. I begged, cajoled, and whined until she finally relented and let me buy a bikini. Believe me it was modest in comparison to the thongs you see today, but I thought I was really hot stuff and I couldn’t wait to wear it when we all went swimming.”

Sarah paused, looking at Laura, “Is this too much detail?”

Struggling with her inner curiosity, Laura did her best to retain her objective demeanor, but she had a feeling where this story was leading and she was anxious for Sarah to continue. “Not at all, please continue.”

Sarah relaxed in the comfortable chair and resumed her tale. “Well, the day after I got my bikini, all the kids decided it was a good day for swimming. I asked Matt if he was going to join us, and he initially said he thought he’d go see what the adults had planned. But after begging him to come swimming, he reluctantly agreed to get in the pool for a few minutes.”

“I have always thought my breasts were too small, but that suit fit me just right because it created an illusion that I had much more up top than I really had, and Matt noticed right off. I happened to see his face when I walked out the door and dropped my towel at the edge of the pool, and even I could see the change in his reaction to me. I am sure it is an exaggeration, but from that moment on, it seemed to me that he was the one vying for my attention rather than the other way around.

“We were in the pool most of the afternoon, splashing, laughing, and generally having a great time. Matt was close to me the entire time, and I loved the attention. After a while, we started playing “chicken.” You know that water fight game where one person rides on someone’s shoulders and you try to knock over the other guys?”

Laura nodded her understanding.

“Well, Matt insisted we all play, and he was emphatic that I be his partner. I was thrilled and eagerly climbed up on his shoulders. He used the opportunity to run his hands around my waist, touch me high on my thighs, and momentarily brush my buttocks. At first I thought it was accidental, you know, just part of the difficulty of maintaining your balance in a pool with someone on your shoulders. But over the course of the game, he continued to caress my legs, even when there was no obvious attempt by another team to knock us over. I started to get concerned, but I admit it felt nice to have him rubbing my thighs and I chose to ignore it the best I could.

“Once, we were knocked over, and I fell from his shoulders into the pool. In an attempt to quickly return to the fray, and lift me back on to his shoulders, his hand moved between my legs and rested momentarily on my pubic mound. At the time, I didn’t think much of it because we were all kicking and screaming about being unfairly knocked over and we were rushing to return to the battle. Now, of course, I am sure his grouping was deliberate.

“Remember I said Matt’s room was downstairs, in the basement? The room I was sleeping in was also in the basement across the hall from his. All the other bedrooms in the house were located on the second floor, so our rooms were relatively isolated from everyone else. One evening, my parents and grandparents were out for the evening – they went to dinner and a movie or something – Matt and I were left alone in the house. They left us money for a pizza and a movie from the local rental store. We ordered pizza and started to watch the movie. It was one of those slasher movies that I only agreed to watch because I didn’t want Matt to think I was a wimp. Well, the movie frightened me and early on, I was curled up next to him on the couch. He had draped his arm protectively around me. I was wearing my night shirt which was really just a long, heavy T-shirt I used as a nightgown. I was fully covered. The shirt had a high collar and it came down below my knees, but it was still a T-shirt. I was wearing panties, but no bra.

“Matt had turned the lights out to enhance the scary mood, which caused me to snuggle even closer to him as the movie progressed. It wasn’t long before I felt the back of his hand brush against my breast. Again, I was sure it was an accident and didn’t react. Moments later, his hand rested against the side of my chest just below my breast, and he left it there for several seconds. I remember turning to ask him to move his hand when he suddenly lowered his head and softly kissed my lips. I was totally surprised, and immediately pulled away. He merely smiled and told me to close my eyes and relax.

“I was very confused. My ‘dream’ boy friend had just kissed me, but he was my uncle and I just didn’t know what to do. Before I could gather myself to reply, he kissed me again, and this time I could feel his tongue probing my lips. Without thinking, I opened my mouth to accept him. To this day, I remember how wonderful that kiss made me feel. I don’t know whether it was teenage hormones or what, but I distinctly remember experiencing a very pleasant ‘stirring’ in my vagina, similar to the feelings I had when I masturbated. Remember, this was all new to me. I had never really kissed a boy like that before, but I immediately began to kiss him back, using more force and exuberance than I knew I had.

“Taking my response as acceptance of his advances, his hand began to gently massage my breast through the cotton of the T-shirt. My nipples hardened instantly, and Matt quickly focused his fingers on one of them, making it even harder than before. After a few moments of fondling though the cloth barrier, he reached below my knees and moved his hand up under my T-shirt. In a surprisingly short period of time, and with my cooperation, he had pushed the T-shirt above my waist and was cupping my naked breast in his palm. It felt wonderful. I continued to kiss him, although by now, I was the one forcing my tongue hungrily into his mouth.

“We may have had sex right there on the couch, but we were suddenly interrupted by the sound of my parents’ car pulling into the driveway. We both jumped off the sofa and quickly began to clean up anything we thought might lead anyone to suspect what we had been doing on the couch. That’s funny to think about now because there really wasn’t any incriminating evidence at all. From all outward appearances, we had been eating pizza and watching a movie. There were no marks on me to indicate how incredibly turned on I was, or that Matt had been feeling my breast, or that the crotch of my panties was soaking wet. But we scurried around like frightened mice. Our nervousness was probably more telling than any physical evidence.

“My parents and grandparents finally got into the house, and after a brief conversation about their evening, I went downstairs to my room and closed the door. I was very confused and anxious, and could not go to sleep. Some time later, I heard Matt come downstairs and close his bedroom door. I couldn’t decide if I should sneak into his room or not. I knew I wanted to go to him, but he was my uncle, and I knew incest was an immoral, shameful thing. So I lay there stewing in my indecision.

“Suddenly, as if he could hear my innermost thoughts, the door to my room opened slightly and I knew it was Matt. He called quietly to me to see if I was still awake. I assured him I was awake and he quickly slipped into my room, closing the door behind himself, and into my bed. I was still wearing my T-shirt and panties, Matt was wearing boxers. He wrapped his arms around me and I could feel the heat of his chest against my breasts. He opened his mouth to kiss me and my tongue surged into his oral cavity.”

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to come see you like this,” he said.

“I pushed my young body tightly against his and said something stupid like, ‘What took you so long?’”

“He kissed me again and reached down for the hem of my T-shirt, I raised my hips off the bed, allowing him to peel the garment past my hips and over my head, and stripping it from me. Once my T-shirt was off, he jumped from the bed and turned on a small night light, telling me he wanted to see me better. He returned to the bed and his mouth immediately went to my nipple and sucked it for several moments, sending chills down my spine. His hands began to roam over my chest and stomach, cupping my free breast and probing gently down toward my navel. My senses were being overloaded. I knew where this was leading, and I knew I really should stop him, but my body wouldn’t let me act. I arched my back in a futile attempt to push more of my breast into his mouth, and as I did, he pulled away from me and sat up.

“He asked me if I had ever seen a man’s penis before, and of course I had not, so he told me he wanted me to see his. With that, he moved off the bed and stood next to it facing me. He urged me to sit on the edge of the bed with my legs spread. When I did that, he stood between my knees, his groin just inches from my faced. His erection thrust out from his body, but it was still concealed behind the cloth of his boxers. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and pushed them to the floor. His penis bobbed into view, pointed directly at my face. He took my right hand and enclosing it in his, placed my hand on his penis, ‘Touch it,’ he said.

“I started to pull my hand away, but he held my wrist and gently forced my hand back on his member. It seemed natural for me to grasp his penis in my fist, so I did. He moaned a bit and, still holding on to my wrist, began to force my hand slowly back and forth along the length of his penis.”

Laura interrupted, “Sarah, you can use words other than penis. Cock and dick are perfectly acceptable here, just as pussy and cunt can be used for vagina. Use whatever terminology you are comfortable with. Your language is not going to shock or offend me. Please go on.”

Sarah nodded, gathered her thoughts and resumed her story. “After a few minutes, he asked me if I had ever tasted a penis, . . . ah, I mean a cock. I told him his was the very first adult one I had seen, and no I had not even come close to tasting a penis. He laughed and suggested I start by giving his a small, quick kiss. I asked if he was serious about me touching his dirty thing with my lips. He laughed again and assured me he was very serious and that his cock was probably cleaner than my own hands.

“There was a sense of dare in his voice, and again, I didn’t want him to think I was a wimp, so I closed my eyes and slowly moved my lips toward his penis. Once my lips came in contact with the head, I immediately withdrew, and asked him if he was satisfied. He just shook his head and then dared me to open my mouth and take the whole head in. I made some comment that only whores do stuff like that, and he countered that he was pretty sure my Mom had done it to my Dad since most married couples do it all the time. I had no idea how he knew that, but he continued to tell me oral sex was normal.

“With some more coaxing, I agreed to let him put just the head in my mouth for a few seconds. I placed my hands on the front of his thighs, closed my eyes, and opened my mouth. I felt him lean toward my face and his penis entered my mouth. My tongue responded to this foreign object by darting back and forth across the tip of his penis. He moaned again and began to pull out, and just when I thought this trial was over, he pushed gently back into my mouth, quickly starting an in-and-out motion. Each thrust seemed to push deeper into my mouth, but he always stopped short of choking me. Once again my inexperience left me totally confused as to what he was doing, but I discovered that I did not mind the movement, nor did I object to his taste. Quite by accident, my tongue began to flick rhythmically across the tip of his cock on each stroke as it withdrew from my mouth, and it was during one of those innocent flicks that I tasted a drop of salty, slightly bitter fluid.

“Shortly after that, Matt groaned and withdrew completely from my mouth. I noticed that his breathing was heavier than normal and that his face was flushed. It also seemed to me that his cock was harder than it had been when it first entered my lips. That was wonderful, he told me, and he assured me we would be doing more of that. But first he said he wanted to taste me.

“He directed me back toward the middle of the bed and told me to lie on my back. As I lay down, he peeled my panties down my legs. I had to lift my hips to allow him to pull them completely off. Once they were off, he stared at me for several seconds, his hands moving slowly up and down my body, touching my breasts, my ribs, my mound, and my legs. His movements were very sensuous, my eyes closed, my breathing increased, and my juices began to flow with each new area he explored.

“I felt the bed move a bit and heard him tell me to open my legs. I spread them a little, but his hands were on the inside of my thighs and gently pushed them even wider apart. I watched him lower his head to my navel and felt his tongue flick lightly across my skin. Slowly, his tongue moved further down my abdomen, and when I finally realized what he might be doing, his head was already between my legs, and his tongue was slowly licking the outer lips of my vagina.

“At first I was shocked and tried to tell him to stop, but I could not form the words. Every nerve in my body was reacting to his tongue and the muscles of my inner thighs were shaking involuntarily. I did not know what was happening, but I knew I did not want him to stop. He continued to lick me for several more minutes, the pressure in my groin was building with each swipe of his tongue, and I was growing wetter with each second. I didn’t really know it at the time, but I was building toward my first real orgasm. I’d had several orgasms when I had masturbated, but none of them compared with this. A few more flicks of his tongue and I was over the edge. I grasped his head with my hands, clutching his hair to hold him in place. My hips pushed clear up off the bed with each spasm. The feeling was so intense and so unlike anything I had ever experienced before, I remember actually thinking I might be dying.

“Matt, of course, had no intention of leaving, and as I lay there, basking in the incredible afterglow of my first full orgasm and trying to catch my breath, I was vaguely aware that Matt was moving around, positioning his body between my legs. I knew I should stop him, but I really didn’t want to. I heard him say something about being sorry he had to hurt me, but that the pain would go away quickly, and then I felt the thick head of his penis push up against the entrance to my vagina. I could feel that he was using his hand to guide himself into my pussy, and I felt the glans move easily past my labia, but then he encountered my hymen. In a voice that was more of a weak croak than anything, I asked him to stop. But he continued to push into me and I could feel my tissues separating to allow his entrance. I kept asking him to stop, telling him that it hurt, but my words were no match for his lust.

“With a final grunt he collapsed fully on top of me, his penis completely buried in my womb. Fortunately, he did not immediately begin to thrust in and out of me. Whether he did it on purpose or not, I don’t know, but he stayed completely still for several moments, his groin locked tightly against mine. This brief respite gave me a little time to adjust to his length. It also gave me time to regain my powers of speech.

“I told him we couldn’t do this; we were related, and he had to pull out quickly before I got pregnant. He raised himself up on his arms and looked down at me, and replied that we weren’t related by blood. And besides, he continued, no one gets pregnant the first time.

“Obviously, Matt was not a fertility specialist and his knowledge of the mechanics of conception were idiotic, but even though my voice was telling him no, my body was telling both of us yes. He remained in that ‘push-up’ position and began to make small thrusts in and out of my pussy. His gaze left my face and focused on the junction of our bodies. My focus followed his and I was amazed to see his thick cock disappear completely inside me with each thrust. It was still painful but the pleasant friction between our bodies was beginning to overwhelm the pain. I was wetter than I had ever been. The speed and depth of his thrusts began to increase and my room was soon filled with the wet, slapping sounds of sex. My arms clutched at his waist as if I could pull him deeper into my body. His breathing became very ragged and I could sense something was happening, but I didn’t know then what it was. Suddenly, he grunted and thrust deep into me, holding his groin tightly against mine. This was followed by a series of grunts and deep thrusts . . . he was cumming inside me.

“After a few seconds, he lay still, with his cock deep in my pussy. A short while later, he rolled off and lay next to me. He kept repeating how great that felt and how terrific I was. His highest praise was, “You have a great pussy.” I took that as a crude compliment, but even then, it crossed my mind that he must have had other girls in order to make that comparison.

“I was worried about getting pregnant, so I asked if he had cum inside me. I think my question was phrased like, ‘Did you leave sperm in me?’ His response was a very male, ‘You bet! I haven’t cum like that in a long time.’

“He then proceeded to ask if I thought his cock was big or small. This was, of course, a ridiculous line of questioning because he was the first man I had ever seen, and he was obviously the first one I had ever had sex with. But, he persisted, and when I finally said he seemed pretty big to me, he laughed and said I should reserve judgment until I had seen his friend Derek. I thought it was odd he would expect me to “see” his friend, but I was too na? to question him.

“We continued to talk for several more minutes when he asked if I was ready to do it again. I, of course, had no idea how many times people could have sex, so I meekly nodded my head. He quickly moved into position between my legs. My pussy was still wet from his sperm and my own secretions, making his entry much easier than the pervious effort. He thrust completely into me with one quick stroke.

“This time he didn’t cum so quickly. He pumped in and out of me for a long while, and the longer did it . . .,”

Laura interrupted, “You mean the longer he fucked you?”

Hours ago, Sarah would have been embarrassed and offended by Laura’s crude terminology, but finally telling her story after repressing it for years was liberating and empowering.

“Yes,” she continued, “the longer he fucked me, the closer to orgasm I came. I am positive he was not intentionally trying to bring me to orgasm, but the friction of his cock moving in and out of my pussy took me over the edge again. I think he was very surprised when I moaned, grasped him tightly with my arms, and thrust my hips repeatedly against him, because he stopped fucking , looked inquisitively at me and asked if I had just cum.

“I had figured out by now what he meant with the word ‘cum,’ so I nodded my head. He grinned and said he loved my pussy and resumed fucking me. In a matter of moments, he ejaculated into my womb for the second time in as many hours.

Sex seemed to make him chatty because he began talking as soon as he rolled off of me, asking how I felt, and now that I had taken sperm in my pussy, how it felt to be real woman. He also asked how I liked ‘riding bareback.’ I told him I didn’t understand the term, and when he told me it meant having sex without a condom, I told him I was really worried that he had made me pregnant. Again he laughed and made another reference to his friend Derek, saying that if it turned out I was knocked-up (his phrase), Derek would be able to help me out.”

Laura interrupted again, “Sarah, did his insensitivity bother you? He was using you sexually with very little pretense of affection.”

“At the time, I didn’t know any better. I did not recognize what he was doing to me until later. But right then, I was actually quite happy. I had experienced sex with my dream lover, and I had an orgasm during my second sexual experience. You know, now that I am talking about this, I remember he fucked me a third time that night. We had fallen asleep in the ‘spoon’ position, and I recall being awoken by his cock entering me from behind. I hate to keep referring to my naivet?but I just didn’t know men and women could have sex in any position other than the missionary position. Since it was already late and I was tired, I found this new position to be a delightful change.

“Believe it or not, we actually spent the rest of the night together. I woke before Matt and realized what had happened and was frightened some one would come downstairs and find us together. I woke Matt and made him leave. He tried to convince me to let him have sex one more time, but I got mad and insisted that he had to leave before we got caught.

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