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Chapter 5: Agreement
This is a continuation of the previous chapter of the story “Natural Insemination.” It is recommended the chapters be read in sequence to properly describe the scene and introduce the characters. None of the characters are real, and this is purely a work of fiction with no basis in actual medical fact. Constructive comments and suggestions welcomed.
It proved a lot easier than I ever expected. My husband agreed after a mere 5 weeks of going without.
It wasn’t the first time I withheld sex from him, but certainly the longest. Many times over the last few weeks I wanted to give in. It felt unnatural to hold out for so long, almost cruel how I behaved towards him. I manipulated him with sex, which was something I didn’t normally do, at least not on such a grand scale. I had done it before, of course, because every woman does it, but those were mild compared to what I put him through over the last 5 weeks. It was a good thing that the doctor gave me a hint of what I was missing. My experience with Richard opened my eyes. It gave me the strength to hold out. His cock reminded me of the grand prize.
My husband resisted, naturally, almost pleaded with me to come back early to bed or fool around early in the morning on weekends. At first, he was easy to refuse. I really was angry at him for skipping our appointment. I told him he had embarrassed me, even humiliated me in front of the doctor, which was all true. And then it was my time of the month, which effectively gave me a few extra days.
The last two weeks were the most difficult. I had to fight my natural instincts. I had to pretend I wasn’t interested in having sex anymore. The worst part was that I really needed it, even if it was only my husband. Richard had made me horny as hell. It was as if his cock had injected me with some kind of drug. On some nights I was willing to fuck almost anything.
“What’s the point?” I feigned disinterest instead. “When we know it won’t work?”
Every time I rejected him, again and again, even when I could make out the upright bulge in his pajamas. It made me feel cheap, all the trickery and the lies. It was cruel, almost a mean thing for me to do. It felt like I was taking advantage of him, which I guess I was. It also went against everything I was raised to believe. A wife was supposed to keep her husband happy, or so my mother taught me when I was young. Plus, I have to admit, making him happy genuinely made me feel happy too, but lately I looked upon my husband more as the enemy.
The last two weeks were the hardest for him too, especially the first evening I walked into the living room wearing the little black teddy, a negligee from a few years before. I didn’t buy it. I didn’t have to. My husband had actually purchased it himself, brought it back with him from some kind of business trip. He and a couple co-workers supposedly drove to some vendor who sold x-ray machines for inspecting industrial welds. I never really did understand any of the details, but I suspect they also went to an x-rated lingerie party along the way. He never admitted it, but I always suspected it, so I didn’t wear the negligee much after that.
“Oh, this old thing,” I now had an opportunity to turn the tables and use the teddy against him. “I just figured I might as well get some use out of it,” I pretended to be unconcerned when I sat down on the sofa across from him.
He immediately came over and sat up close, put his arm around me, and acted all lovey-dovey to me. He even offered to change the channel away from the football game he was watching. A rare occurrence; perhaps the first time ever! I could tell he was horny. He was even hornier than me.
“No, that’s all right,” I first rejected his offer to change the channel and then further rejected his offer to come back early to bed. “I’d like to finish this chapter,” I went right on reading my book instead.
I never did finish the chapter. I read the words, but that doesn’t mean I finished it. They were just letters haphazardly arranged into sentences on a page. I couldn’t keep my concentration. The story didn’t make any sense. All I could think about was getting fucked. Even better, I wanted Richard to fuck me.
But as bad as I felt, I know he felt a lot worse. He was desperate, horny too, which I could tell by the way he kept glancing over to me and the negligee. I have to admit, my husband knows how to pick out sexy lingerie. The little black thing left little to the imagination. If worn in public, I would have been arrested for indecent exposure. Around the house, I worried about someone looking in through the window or come knocking at the front door. I’m sure my husband could make out the protrusion of my hard nipples. He maybe could even see their outline through the sheer fabric.
For the last week, I continued to wear the negligee every-other night to bed. The poor guy could hardly stand it. One time he even went to take a shower before coming to bed. A cold shower, I have no doubt. I could beşevler escort have used the equivalent of a cold shower myself. The negligee did little to relieve my own excitement.
In the end, I naturally rewarded him after he finally agreed to the treatment. Not right away, but the next night. I didn’t want him to think I was trying to manipulate him, so I waited almost 24 hours more, the next night, and only after phoning Dr. Palin with the exciting news. The wait proved excruciating, especially after her receptionist, Jason, answered the phone. I nearly had an orgasm at the sound of his voice. I wondered if I might even get to experience him too, or maybe the doctor might choose him instead of Richard. The potential sex only served to heighten my arousal even more.
It wasn’t much of a fuck. I mean my husband, of course, after I finally gave in. It was even quicker than usual. I’m sure part of the problem came from the fact I withheld it from him for so long. He was hot and horny, a lot more so than usual, desperate to get me naked and then stick his short length inside. It took only a few thrusts, and he was done. He left me feeling as if I had hardly participated.
A bigger part of the problem came from Richard and what he had done to me. Experiencing a man of such giant proportions made me appreciate how truly pathetic my own husband really was. I longed for a double orgasm, and then the sight of all that spurting cum as well. Plus, I couldn’t help but wonder if part of it could have been a physical change in me. Specifically, I wondered if Richard’s large size might have changed me down there, opened me up, stretched me down there so that sex with any normal-sized male would never feel as intense. Perhaps sex with my husband would never be the same again.
Whatever the reason and however I felt, my husband eventually gave his agreement. I quick made an appointment with Dr. Palin for later in the week. I would have made it sooner, like first thing the next morning, but I needed my husband to come along. I just hope he won’t again change his mind at the last moment.
* * * * *
I almost let out a gasp when I see Richard sitting once again behind the reception counter. Memories immediately return of our previous encounter, of how he felt inside me, and then what I did to him in the end too. It makes me feel like such a whore, but a satisfied whore, and then a dirty little thought enters my mind. Well, not so little, I guess, for I imagine him sitting behind the desk without wearing any pants or shorts. I imagine him bottomless, fully exposed down there, greeting patients in a half-naked condition.
“Why don’t you go have a seat,” I quick regain my composure and step in front of my husband. “I’ll check us in, and it looks like they’re watching some game.”
Two other men already sit in the reception area. It looks a lot like last time, except for some baseball game playing on a flat panel TV hanging on the wall. My husband immediately takes notice of the game. He willingly agrees with my idea.
I, meanwhile, can’t help but wonder about the wives of the two men watching the game. Are they married? Did they bring wives along? Most important, I wonder what the wives might be experiencing only a short distance away.
“Hello there, Katie,” Richard brings me out of my daydream.
“Hi,” I weekly answer in return.
I smile at him, and he smiles back. His smile greatly calms me. It deadens the initial surprise; slows down my racing heart. It is as if the two of us share a great secret, a secret even my husband doesn’t know. I suddenly feel close to him, like a close friend.
Stepping up to the counter, I lean over much the same way I did so many weeks ago. I do it without thinking. I suppose I also do it because I want to somehow give him a reward for how good he made me feel that day. Today I wear a summer dress. It comes down low in front, too low to be appropriate to wear to work. I put it on at home and after leaving work early to make it to the doctor’s appointment on time. Leaning over the counter, I show him cleavage. I give him a reminder of what he saw so many weeks ago.
“I heard you got your husband to agree,” He starts talking when I fail to say anything. “I can’t wait.”
I blush with embarrassment at his admission. “Me too,” I whisper back, being careful not to let my husband overhear. Already he sits with the others. I hear the three of them joke around in the background, asking the score, and then criticizing the coach and then some of the players. It all sounds like typical guy stuff. I, meanwhile, occupy myself with a more interesting sport.
“I heard you would be cuming,” Richard whispers back to me. I notice the way he pronounces the word too.
“I hope I do,” I nod. “And you too.”
In fact, I hope to make him cum again, just like last time. Memories of our previous encounter return. I can’t wait to make him cum again, but then wonder if he will be the one the doctor selects for me. I certainly büyükesat escort hope so. I wonder if I will get to choose.
“So that’s your husband?” Richard looks past me to take a glance at the man sitting on the couch. “Seems like a decent enough guy.”
“He is,” I take a glance too. “He’s a good husband, but just not able to, you know…” I let me words trail off.
Richard nods in understanding. Of course he knows. He knows all about my husband. I suspect the doctor told him all about my husband’s inadequate size.
“Does he know?” He asks next.
“Know what?” I am momentarily confused.
“You know,” He speaks as if I should already know what he talks about. “Does he know that we fucked?”
I jump with a start. “Not so loud,” I warn. He says it in a whisper. There’s no way my husband could overhear, not over the TV, but I can’t help but worry anyway.
I also jump at what he reminds me of. What he speaks is true. We have fucked. And not just any fuck, but the best fuck of my life. I think of the orgasms, and then I think of the way he felt up my heavy boobs. I’ve fucked a man other than my husband, and now I’m talking to the man while my husband sits only a few feet away.
“I’ll take that to mean a no,” Richard accurately surmises.
“Of course he doesn’t know,” I assure him. “I would never tell him something like that.”
“So I guess he doesn’t know how I cummed all over you either,” He asks in a softer voice. “Or the way you showed me your tits?”
His questions excite me. I let out a sigh as I recall the long jets of cum, my boobs in his hands, and then his giant cock pulsing in my hand. Memories return of his convulsing cock and the way it felt in my hand when he shot off. It would be a lot of fun to feel it again. I can’t wait.
“He doesn’t know yet,” I answer a few seconds later and after recovering from the initial surprise. “But soon he will!”
Indeed, my husband will know. He will know I am being fucked by another man. He will even give me his permission. All he needs to do is tell the doctor.
“I’m glad you got him to agree,” Richard turns to the computer and types something in. “I’ll tell the doctor you are here. It should be about ten minutes.”
* * * * *
She appears much the same as a week ago: smart business suit, glasses, and hair bunched up on the top of her head like a woman firmly in control. Richard first escorted us back to her office. I was actually disappointed when he stepped out into the reception area wearing clothes below the waist.
Dr. Palin walks in about a minute later carrying a notepad and a folder that I assume must contain our medical records. “I heard you made your decision,” She goes direct to the point. No introductions. No greetings. She doesn’t even shake our hands, but attacks the problem directly, as if too busy with her other patients to waste time with pleasantries. She asks what I so much want to ask my husband too.
“First, a few questions if you don’t mind,” He initially disappoints me.
I scarf at him, want to yell at him, but hold back. He told me he would agree to the procedure. I just want him to tell the doctor, but now he seems to have second thoughts.
“Of course,” Dr. Palin seems unperturbed by his hesitation. She places the folder down on the desk and takes a seat down in her chair. “That’s why I’m here! To answer questions from both of you,” She turns to me as she says it, offering me the opportunity to ask questions too.
Predictably, my husband goes first. “I’m concerned about my wife’s safety,” He starts immediately. “Is there any chance of her being injured during any of these, as you call them, treatments?” He says the last word with distain, as if he doesn’t fully believe it.
“Injured?” The Doctor almost laughs back. “Now why would she be injured? Have you ever heard of a woman being physically injured in the act of intercourse?”
“Well, um,” My husband backtracks. He can’t immediately think of an answer for this.
“If she was a virgin, maybe,” The doctor answers the question for him. “But once a woman is opened, there is no longer any pain, even if she is opened wider and deeper than ever before.”
Her words remind me of Richard and what he already did to me. Wider and deeper, yes, I already know.
“But she is a small woman,” My husband regains his composure and points out. “I just thought, you know, a smaller woman could get injured, and she isn’t accustomed to taking such large sizes.”
He indirectly references his own small size, which I find interesting. It appears he has finally faced the facts. It took several weeks to do so, but now he appears to finally acknowledge his small size.
The Doctor assures us we don’t need to worry about injury. The males performing the insemination procedure have extensive experience. Most have impregnated near a hundred women, some a lot more, and so far not a single woman has been injured.
Her mention of experience makes me wonder çankaya escort how much of this experience they might pass on to me. I think of all the new positions, and then am reminded of what I accidently saw the last time I came to her office, of the woman riding the male from above. Whatever male they choose for me will almost certainly be able to teach me new things, new positions I never tried before. I look forward to it. I wish my husband would just agree so I could experience it.
“So you see, her diminutive size won’t make any difference,” She concludes. “Even a petite woman can take ten or eleven inches of male flesh, and your wife isn’t exactly petite. I would say she should be able to take about a foot-long appendage with little problem.”
My eyes widen at her remark. A foot-long? Richard was plenty big enough. I have a hard time believing any guy could ever get that large, much less my own ability to take him inside.
“But if you are still worried,” The Doctor adds in the next breath. “There is always the option of you being present during the procedure.”
“What?” Both my husband and I simultaneously say the word. My husband present? During the procedure? This would mean my husband would have to watch. He would have to watch me getting fucked by another man.
“Now wait a minute,” He thankfully rejects.
“Just a suggestion,” The Doctor holds up her hands as if in surrender. “I’m often surprised by the number of husbands who get aroused by the idea of watching their wives. And a lot of wives don’t mind being watched either,” She laughs after she says it.
I can’t help but laugh along with her. The idea sounds ridiculous. I have a hard time imagining my husband in the same room with me. No way could he stand by and watch, not while I was having sex with another man. He normally gets jealous just when a guy comes up to me at a bar and starts making small talk. It’s a good thing he wasn’t around 5 weeks ago with Richard. He would have pulled the guy away. He probably would have tried to start a fight, maybe even killed him right there, or at least try to kill him after witnessing my orgasm, much less my second orgasm.
But then at the same time, a strange twinge of excitement rushes over me too. Having him witness my ecstasy at the cock of another man would certainly make him embarrassed, put him in his place. This shouldn’t excite me, I know, but for some reason it does anyway. I don’t know why. I can’t explain it.
“Anything else you have questions about?” The Doctor asks before I can think about it too much. She looks at her watch as she asks it, gives the impression of a busy woman. She doesn’t have all day to sit around and talk with us.
“And what about the frequency and number of these treatments?” My husband gets the hint and immediately takes her up on her offer. “You mentioned two weeks worth of treatments?”
“Actually, three weeks,” She thankfully corrects him.
“Three weeks then,” He accepts. “And you mentioned twice per day too. Isn’t that a bit extreme? Wouldn’t it be better to time it with, you know, her time?” He says it without actually saying it. He has always been hesitant to say it.
“You mean her menstrual period?” The Doctor must say it for him.
“Yes, that,” he nods in response.
“Good question,” She admits he has a good point, but then goes on to explain how she prefers to give her patients the best possible chance of getting pregnant, and the only way to do that is with repeated treatments. And unlike most medical treatments, the drugs to be used on me have few side effects. They aren’t dangerous. They certainly are not addictive, so a large number of treatments will have no ill effects. She also reminds him of the fact we have already tried the slow and gradual approach. Now is the time to get serious.
“I want to inundate her with sperm,” The doctor makes her opinion obvious. “I want it to be literally over-flowing out of her. I want your wife covered with spunk.”
Her abrupt description reminds me of Richard and the way he really did cover me. Memories return of his spurting cock, and then of his abundant quantity. Afterwards I took a shower to clean up before I could get dressed again. Richard showed me the way to a small shower out the back door of the treatment room. I recall him also saying he couldn’t wait to someday take a shower with me.
“Don’t you want your wife to get the best possible treatment?” The Doctor concludes her point by throwing the question back in his lap. “Don’t you want her to have the best possible chance of getting pregnant?”
“Yes, but,” he can barely get it out.
“Isn’t that why you are here?” Her imposing presence sounds above his meek objections. “Why else go through all this trouble? Why else have your wife go through the procedure at all?”
“It just seems a bit extreme,” He finally gets out. “I expected only one time.”
Dr. Palin almost laughs at his remark. “Few pregnancies occur after only a single act of intercourse. I’m afraid it almost always takes repeated attempts.”
“But we don’t even know if she is the problem,” He regains his composure and takes a glance in my direction. “What if I am the problem? She could get pregnant after just one attempt. All the repeated treatments could be for nothing.”
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