24-03-2019, 04:45 PM
"Are you serious?" he asked incredulously, massaging my boobs over my clothes.
"Yes."
He looked at me with a smile.
"Alright. I will sign anything you want. My only condition is, I get to keep fucking you. Starting tonight." He said, pressing my boobs again.
"That is not going to happen." I said, slapping his hand away. He looked at me with a scowl on his face. For a moment, i thought he would hit me like he had in Vegas. Instead he said.
"Then I am not signing anything." he said in a serious tone.
We both sat there in silence. I considered his proposal. It wasn't like I didn't like getting fucked by Alan anyway. But I didn't want to do it under the roof of my husband, two doors away from where my son slept. There were some lines I was unwilling to cross. So I suggested a compromise.
"I can't sleep with you under this roof. I just can't. So....I'll drive to Maryland once a month and I'll be all yours for the weekend until the baby comes. And then, you sign the papers I ask you to."
Alan looked at me with a smile on his face. He agreed. So it was set.
The first weekend I drove to Maryland, I was surprised by what a tiny apartment Alan lived in. He ravaged me all weekend. A month or so later, my belly began to show, and Alan was more gentle. By the time the third trimester rolled around, Alan himself suggested that we should stop our dalliances. The excuse he gave was, he had another girlfriend who was getting jealous. But I was sure he was concerned about the baby.
The baby arrived a couple of weeks after schedule. One look at it was enough to confirm that he was Alan's son. Alan looked very proud when he came over the next day and saw what he called his "latest bastard". I sat on the bed with the baby in my arms, trying to get it to take my nipple and drink from it. Alan and Pavan walked out of the room to give me privacy.
And I started wondering how long I should wait to tell Pavan that I had met with an attorney to draw up divorce papers.
THE END
P.S. Thank you once again to my favorite aurelius1982 without whose help, this story couldn't have been written.
"Yes."
He looked at me with a smile.
"Alright. I will sign anything you want. My only condition is, I get to keep fucking you. Starting tonight." He said, pressing my boobs again.
"That is not going to happen." I said, slapping his hand away. He looked at me with a scowl on his face. For a moment, i thought he would hit me like he had in Vegas. Instead he said.
"Then I am not signing anything." he said in a serious tone.
We both sat there in silence. I considered his proposal. It wasn't like I didn't like getting fucked by Alan anyway. But I didn't want to do it under the roof of my husband, two doors away from where my son slept. There were some lines I was unwilling to cross. So I suggested a compromise.
"I can't sleep with you under this roof. I just can't. So....I'll drive to Maryland once a month and I'll be all yours for the weekend until the baby comes. And then, you sign the papers I ask you to."
Alan looked at me with a smile on his face. He agreed. So it was set.
The first weekend I drove to Maryland, I was surprised by what a tiny apartment Alan lived in. He ravaged me all weekend. A month or so later, my belly began to show, and Alan was more gentle. By the time the third trimester rolled around, Alan himself suggested that we should stop our dalliances. The excuse he gave was, he had another girlfriend who was getting jealous. But I was sure he was concerned about the baby.
The baby arrived a couple of weeks after schedule. One look at it was enough to confirm that he was Alan's son. Alan looked very proud when he came over the next day and saw what he called his "latest bastard". I sat on the bed with the baby in my arms, trying to get it to take my nipple and drink from it. Alan and Pavan walked out of the room to give me privacy.
And I started wondering how long I should wait to tell Pavan that I had met with an attorney to draw up divorce papers.
THE END
P.S. Thank you once again to my favorite aurelius1982 without whose help, this story couldn't have been written.
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