I knew I'd used this one up the moment she got in the car. She was too quiet and
when I leaned over to kiss her she wasn't real enthusiastic about it.  I shrugged
and pulled away from the curb.  I didn't need a scene in front of her parent's
house.

"So," I said, "what do you want to do tonight?  You want to eat or see a movie
first, or should we just go right to my place?"  She burst out crying.  Yeah,
this one was history.  I pulled over and turned on the concern.  "What is it? 
Shelly, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Joey," she sobbed, "Joey, I-- I think I'm pregnant!"

"What?!", I feigned surprise, "But, Shelly, that's impossible!"

"That's what you said!", she wailed.  "But my period's almost a whole week late,
and it's never been this late before! Oh, Joey, what am I going to do?"  She fell
sobbing into my arms. Hey, I thought, I might be able to get one more fuck out of
this cunt.  It won't be as much fun, but, hell, a lay is a lay.

"Shelly," I whispered, "listen.  Let's talk this out at my house.  I know you're
upset, but it's not that bad.  It could even be a good thing, I promise, but we
can't talk here in the car.  I have to concentrate on driving, okay?  Now you sit
up and please don't worry.  I hate to see you so upset."

"O-Okay, Joey," she sniffed as I pulled out and drove to the apartment.  Except
for a couple of sniffles, she kept silent until we walked through the door.  I
went to the kitchen to get us drinks and she hit the couch and started blubbering
again.  I came over with the two glasses of limeade.  I love limeade.  The
tartness hides the taste of the pills and these high-school cunts think it tastes
like that because it's not lemonade.

I sat next to her and wrapped my arms around her.  She sobbed into my neck, and
her jiggling tits pushing into my chest started getting me hot.  Like I wasn't
already, right?

"Ssh, now, Shelly," I said soothingly.

"B-but I'm ruined, Joey, ruined!  I'm not even out of high school, I can't have
a--  a b-uh-- buh--"  She went back to wailing uncontrollably.

"But, Shelly, Shelly, don't you know what this means?"  I pulled her back and
lifted her head.  "Shelly, this is a miracle! It means the doctors were wrong! 
Don't you know what joy you've brought me if it's really true?  Shelly, I never
thought I'd ever hear the words, 'my baby', and now you're telling me this
miracle is true?  Oh, Shelly, I love you so much!"  I hugged the bitch for all I
was worth.

"But I-- I--"  She sounded a bit confused by this turn of events, which, of
course, was what I wanted.

"Listen, Shelly, we'll get married right away, as soon as my parents get back
from Europe.  We'll get you out of that stupid public school and you can go to
school with me.  Don't worry, there are always pregnant girls there and
everybody's okay with that.  You'll have lots of new friends, and your old
friends will be jealous as hell.  We can live at the apartment on Oakland Drive,
and when it's time for you to quit school, we'll get a nurse to take care of
you."

"But Joey--"

"What 'but'?"  I looked her straight in the eye.  "Shelly, do you love me?"

"Oh, Joey.  More than anything in the whole world!"

"And I love you, so it's settled.  Oh, Shelly, you don't know how happy you've
made me."  I gave her the mother of all kisses and, sure enough, she started
getting hot.  Works every time.  Throw money and power at 'em and they'll be
eating out of you hand.  Out of your lap, actually.

I started to lean into her, my tongue in total possession of her mouth, and moved
my hand up under her tit and cupped it.  She gasped into my throat. I laid her
down on the couch and she gave me no resistance whatsoever when I started
unbuttoning her blouse.  I freed her mouth and kissed and licked down her throat
and into the cleavage her bra created between her breasts.  As she softly moaned,
I slipped off the couch, picked her up into my arms and, still nipping at her,
carried her off to "my room".

"Oh, Joey, no, we shouldn't," she panted as I laid her onto the bed.  What was
this, habit?  This was the same game she always played.  This time, though, I
deflected that bullshit a lot quicker.

"Shelly," I said tenderly as I undid her bra, "what difference does it make now? 
You're carrying my baby.  I need you, Shelly, just like our baby will need the
milk from your breast."  I tossed the bra aside and I bent to nip at one of her
nipples, pushing her back onto the bed.  Yep, they were a lot darker and fuller
than they used to be.  No doubt it, I'd knocked her up good.  When I drill 'em, I
do it right.

While I sucked and nibbled at her tits, my hands were busy loosening her skirt
from her quivering hips.  I kissed down to her belly, pulling the waist of her
skirt down.  "Oh, Shelly," I sighed, "is it here?  Is my baby really growing
here?  Here in my wife's belly?"

That got her.  "Your baby," she moaned, "your wife."  I lifted her bottom and
slipped off her skirt and panties.  I quickly threw off my T-shirt and slacks.  I
never wear jeans because they're too hard to get off quickly.  Underwear?  Give
me a break!

I kneed her legs apart and stuck my tongue into her pussy. I don't really like
face-fucking, but you do what you have to do. I'm good at it, though.  A couple
of licks, a nip or two and a little sucking always gets them creamy.  This one
never took much effort, though, and tonight she was bucking into my mouth before
I even got to her clit.

I slid up her body, crushing my chest against her tits.  I love the feeling of
firm young tits mashed up against me.  My cock poked up between her pussy lips
and I pushed down hard into her. She was still as tight as she was when I took
her cherry a couple of weeks ago.  Her breath caught when I stuck her, just like
it always did, but I hammered in so hard this time that she squeaked!  I was
going to miss this one.  But not much.

I decided not to waste time and started fucking her good.  I pulled her legs
apart and threw them over my shoulders, then I grabbed her hips, pulled her
bottom up and really gave it to her, pounding my hips down, spiking into her
again and again.  She started grunting and squealing at the reaming I was giving
her. Right away her pussy started spasming on my meat.  I love it when they're
tight and they come.  This one comes a lot.

I was banging away into her, crushing her into the mattress, and she was
screaming like a banshee, when the burning in my balls began.  Usually I hold off
as long as I can, not just because it feels so good when I let go, but then it
really shoots in deep.  I figure this time though that I can't make her any more
pregnant, so I just let loose.

I love it when they feel me come, and I make sure they do. I give them one last,
deep thrust, pressing my cock into them as far as I can, then I keep it dug in
while my prick pumps away inside them.  These tight pussies feel every spurt and
it drives them apeshit.  This one's no exception.  She shrieks even louder when
she feels my cock start jerking inside her.  What makes is really good is that
then the cunts start orgasming over and over, milking the cum right out of me and
sucking it deeper into the womb.

When my spurts began to get weaker, I started thrusting into her again.  It
drives the cum deeper, and it makes the cunts crazy because they thought it was
over and it ain't.  When she started spasming on my prick again, I quit and
collapsed on top of her, feeling her pussy walls grabbing tight at my cock,
pulling out every last drop of my cum.  Shit, it's no wonder she's pregnant.  She
didn't have a chance, she was born to breed.

I laid there panting, my hips still twitching a bit, trying to catch my breath
and the bitch started hugging me.  "Oh, Joey, Joey, I love you so much.  You'll
take good care of me, I know you will!"

Jesus, I hate this part.  All I want to do is sleep or eat or do anything else at
all but be with this cunt, and she wants to "cuddle".  It's easier at the
beginning, when I can do it four or five times at a stretch to the same cunt. 
For sure, this one's used up.  I got to get rid of her.  Now.

I gave her a squeeze.  "Yes, love," I cooed, "I will. Forever."  I kissed her on
the forehead.  "And the first thing I'm going to do is take you home.  You've got
to get more rest now.  You're sleeping for two, you know."  I flashed her that
always-perfect boyish grin of mine and she bought it.

We got dressed and I drove her home.  I kissed her tenderly and told her I
couldn't see her the rest of the weekend because of some service work I was doing
for my church, but I'd call her as soon as I could.  She got out of the car and I
drove away.

I started listing the things I had to do.  It wasn't actually much this time. 
The apartment's rent was almost up; I'd just let it lapse.  So the only real
thing to do was to get a new car.  And a new identity.  Both are easy to get when
you have as much money as I do.

I make an obscene amount of money for doing almost nothing at all and, no, I'm
not going to tell you what I do.  Suffice it to say that I've got a hell of a lot
more money than I know what to do with.  A lot of people in this situation (and
you'd be shocked to know how many people have this "problem") end up blowing it
on drugs.  Well, maybe this is a kind of drug, too.

Yeah, I could buy just about any woman I wanted, but the women I want and the way
I want them are very hard to find on the market.  Besides, you can never be sure
you're getting what you paid for.  My way, I know what I'm getting.

And they're so damn easy to get.  I'm twenty-two, but I easily pass for
seventeen, and I'm average-looking.  I can blend into any group of teenagers. 
People move around so much these days that a "new kid" doesn't even rate a second
look anymore. And the one kind of group that'll welcome you with open arms are
church groups.  There's a hell of a lot of churches in the Los Angeles area and
so much hatred between denominations that I could go from church to church until
I was ninety and never be found out.

There's a lot of high schools, too.  I usually scout around at school functions
like sports events and fund-raisers, looking for plain-dressed groups of girls.  
Not the real pretty ones or the real hip ones, but the average ones.  The lonely
ones.  The hungry ones.  Then I watch.  If none of the good-looking guys talk to
any of them, I've found my pigeons.  Then I ask around about them.  Sometimes I
don't even have to go the holy-roller route and I can wriggle my way into their
group, into their hearts and finally into the hungriest one's pants.

The real secret is in the waiting.  If I'm just in the mood for a quickie, I can
easily find a virgin cunt and pump her the same night.  That's the way I started
out, but it left too much up to chance.  Too scattershot.  I wouldn't know if I
was going to get any results.  No, you got to play a waiting game.  Get to know
your mark.  Find out when she's the most fertile, then make your move.

My all-time favorite is still the twins.  Sometimes you can caress your load up
her snatch, sometimes you have to be more forceful.  Sometimes I wonder what it
would have been like if I'd gone one way with a particular slit instead of the
other.  The great thing about the twins was that I had it both ways.

They were in a church group, of course.  This time I was Jerry and I lived with
my dad, who was never home.  I was mad at him for leaving mom and moving to L.A.,
and I was mad at her for recently sending me to live with him.  I was so pathetic
that they all loved me instantly.

They were called Julie and Judy and they were perfect. Identical from their
hairstyles down to the curve of their butts, they were short with big boobs and
wide hips.  Most guys go for the reedy athletic blondes.  Been there, done that. 
Most of 'em are so self-centered they couldn't throw a good fuck if their lives
depended on it.  The buxom cunts might not do somersaults, but they're hornier
than hell and fuck like bunnies.  I'll do a chunky girl over a skinny one any
day.  Not gross but, you know, ample.

They were perfect in temperament, too.  They spent all their free time at the
church.  They didn't have real lives.  They were shy unless you talked to them
about your problems or something religious.  Then they got real animated. 
Needless to say, I went on about how pathetic I was.  They ate it up.

All I had to do was separate them.  I figured out early on that Judy was the more
insecure of the two.  I proceeded to make her jealous of her sister.  Just before
it was time to go, I engaged Julie in a deep conversation full of bullshit while
Judy was talking with another of their friends and then I suggested we continue
at a coffee shop.

"Of course," Julie said, "let me get my sister, and we'll go."

"Oh, gee," I said, "I don't know.  I just opened up to you. I don't think I'd be
comfortable talking about it with your sister there."

She got the hint, and we ended up in the coffee shop and Judy went home alone. 
The next night at the church I took Judy aside and told her that I thought it was
her I was talking to instead of Julie.

"I'm real sorry I made that mistake, Judy.  I should have know better, because
you really are more empathic than your sister."

"I am?"

"I figured it out in the coffee shop, though."

"You did?"

"Yeah.  She really didn't understand, and I knew you would."

"She didn't?"

That night I took Judy to the coffee shop without her sister and we talked for
hours.  At that point she was hooked.  All I had to do was reel her in.

I started taking Judy out to the mall and to the movies, making sure there was
always an excuse not to take Julie, and not a moment too soon.  It was only a
couple of days later, she and her sister both started menstruating.  I can tell
right away, the scent is unmistakable.  At that point I knew I had less than two
weeks to set it up.

The subject came up easily enough.  This time I'd rented a whole furnished house
with a pool and a fireplace.  We'd stopped there on the way to the mall to get a
tape and ended up on the couch drinking "limeade" and talking about church
teachings and marriage.

"My mom says the church broke up her marriage," I said.

"What?"  Judy was incredulous.  This was far outside her realm of comprehension. 
"Why does she say that?"

"She told me that it was because she was a virgin on her wedding night and she
didn't know how to please my dad."

"Your mom told you that?", she asked, wide-eyed.

"Uh-huh.  She told me a lot of things about their marriage."

"Like what?"  Clearly, she was interested.

"Like a lot of things,"  I muttered, looking into my lap. C'mon cunt, pull it out
of me.

"Jerry, you can talk to me," she coaxed.  "I promise I won't tell a soul."

"Not even your sister?", I asked anxiously.

"Not even my sister," she agreed.

"Okay."  I took in a deep breath.  "I've never told anyone this."  I hesitated,
then went for the burn.  "I had sex with my mom."  Her mouth dropped open.  "She
made me," I quickly added, "I didn't want to.  She told me that she didn't want
what happened to her to happen to me.  She said there was stuff I needed to know
to please a woman.  She--  she taught me stuff."

Judy listened, frozen, and when I got to the bull about being "taught" her knees
ever so slightly pushed in together. God, I'm good.

"Wow," was all she said.

"And what I'm afraid of is that I'll never have a decent relationship with a
woman."

"She 'taught you stuff'?", Judy asked.

"Oh," I began to cry, "it's all so ugly!"  I began sobbing, and leaned slightly
toward her.  She took the cue and put her arms out.  I fell into them.  Did I
mention that I love the feeling of firm young tits mashed into my chest?

"It's okay, it's okay," she soothed.  I continued sobbing into her neck.  My
right hand slipped behind her and softly and rhythmically I pressed against the
small of her back.  My left hand "just naturally" fell into her lap.  As I
"cried", I very slightly rocked her back and forth, making her thighs rub
featheringly against the back of my left hand.  Before too long she was moving on
her own, unconsciously tightening and loosening her thighs, my hand slowly
falling in between them.

"Oh, Judy," I sniveled, "I knew you'd understand and wouldn't think bad of me." 
I pulled my head up and stared at her face.  Her eyes looked up at me, the image
of concern and empathy.  I decided to go for the initial pitch.  I leaned down
and kissed her.

I always start out real innocent at first.  It's a very delicate point in the
attack.  I mashed my lips against hers, and when she didn't resist at all, I
pressed the tongue in.   There was no hesitation in her at all, not even a muscle
shiver.  I pulled her to me and my left hand dove toward her slit.

But only for the merest split-second.  I suddenly let her go and jumped off the
sofa.  "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Judy.  I didn't mean to--  I'm sorry, I'm really
sorry, I--"

"Jerry, it's okay," she said, a little out of breath, "I understand.  It's okay,
really."  She got up and stood next to me.  "As a matter of fact, it was really
nice".  As she said it her thighs shivered.  She wasn't just talking about the
kiss.

"O-okay, it's just--  I don't want to--"  I looked down. "To lose you."  I looked
back up.  "Listen, can we go now?  I-- I don't think I want to talk about it
anymore, okay?"

"Sure," she said and took my hands in hers, "but listen, Jerry, if you ever want
to talk about it again, I'll always be there for you.  Always."  She kissed me on
the forehead.

Bingo.  She's taken the bait.  Now all I had to do was reel her in.  And I would.
 I'd bag her in just less than two weeks.

We saw each other every day.  Sometimes Julie was with us and I'd be sure to pay
her attention, almost as much as I gave to Judy, but I made sure Julie understood
that it was Judy I was interested in and made sure Judy and I got to talk to each
other alone for a while even when Julie was there.  Julie, of course, made like
she was happy for Judy, but I knew it was eating her up.  On rare occasions,
Julie got stuff that Judy didn't, but it never happened the other way around. 
Julie couldn't handle it, and I planned to use that.