Philanthropic Infant
Paul bellowed for Jenny upstairs, "Jenny! Len just called, they want us to participate in his charity raffle. You talk to him and decide what we'll do. I'm busy with court this week."
Climbing the stairs with the elegance of a ballet dancer, Jenny said, "Paul, please be mindful of my ears. You could've come down here or used the phone. Though shouting is unpleasant."
"I'm sorry honey. I'm just preparing my case for court. I know my client's innocent, and I'm working on their defense."
"I trust you. But please use the phone next time or leave a note."
"Jenny, have you watched 'Groundhog Day'?" Len asked.
"Yes, a teacher showed it to us in class once."
"Remember the auction during the ball?"
"Of course. They all went crazy for Phil."
"We're arranging a similar thing."
"And you want me and a few others there, too?"
"There's no need for Paul. I need you and Aaliyah, Freja, Sofia, and Natalia in the auction."
"And what's the winner get?"
"That's for you all to decide. I guess dinner and drinks, or perhaps dancing is more popular."
"Len, I've trained in ballet for 15 years. I'm always game for dancing! As for cooking, I can manage some potatoes and microwaved goods."
"Not to worry, Jenny. They won't ask for your cooking services. They'll escort you to fancy restaurants instead."
"Sounds fun. Count me in."
"Paul, you need to dress smart for this charity event tomorrow."
"I remember, that thing Len's running."
"I'm participating in the auction."
"Like in 'Groundhog Day'?"
"Yep, just like that."
"Will I bid on you? Are there spending limits?"
"You're free to bid if you want. But I believe Len desires us to be bought by someone other than our husbands. It'll add some excitement, eh?"
"Ah, right. So you're not a meal?"
"No, I'll likely be taken out for dinner."
"This sounds fine. I'll bid up to £500 and then quit, so Len gets a good price for you. Is that okay?"
"Excellent!"
"Len has so many people here now. It's impressive!"
"I know. Most are strangers to me."
"I can name them. There are two from the Premier League football. A couple of international players. That guy over there is from the basketball team - and he's a TV producer. There's also a celebrity hairdresser. I know because I represented him - and won - last year. Gentleman, indeed."
"So, will Len raise a lot tonight?"
"Truly, I figured he'd rake in about £1,000 per person. It's a sizable donation for many. But this crowd's wealthy so he could reach well beyond."
"Who would've guessed Natalia would fetch £3,000?" I questioned. "She's lovely, but not worth that!"
"They're not paying for her, Jenny. They're showing off their wallets. It's a contest of riches, much like when stags clash antlers in Richmond Park, but with wallets instead."
"I'm next. I'll have to do my best to out-bid Natalia and the others."
"There's nothing to worry about, Jenny. You can't embarrass yourself."
At this point, I heard my name, so I went on stage for a twirl. Len claimed it showed my dance skills, but maybe it was to attract attention to my legs. So maybe my underwear, too!
"Let's start at £750!" Len shouted.
Paul raised his hand despite their agreement. Other hands also came up. Paul had no reason to go higher. I stood on stage waiting for the first bidder to buy me.
The bidding was spirited, reaching £3,000, then £4,000, and culminating at £5,750. I was thrilled with my earnings - more than the others.
The winner was Marland, a basketball player. He looked the part with his tall, lean frame and long arms.
As Marland, I made my way to his table and we bowed. I seated next to him. "So, let's start the bidding at £750!" Len announced.
I overheard Jenny mention me, so I went to the stage. Len had me twirl around to show off my dance moves. Perhaps he wanted my skirt to rise and my underwear to show. (No, I was not wearing any!)
"Okay, let's start the bidding at £750!" Len declared.
Paul immediately raised his hand, disregarding their prearranged plan, and others bid as well. Paul didn't need to increase his offer. I had to wait to see who purchased me.
The bidding progressed with zeal. It passed £3,000, £4,000, and settled at £5,750. I was more than pleased with my earnings, surpassing the others.
The winning bidder was Marland, a basketball player. Him, with his tall, muscular arms and trim figure.
I walked to him and sat next to him at his table. We bowed to each other.
We traded numbers to talk about specifics. However, he didn't have much to say. It was a costly charity gala night filled with wine, smoked salmon, and roasted lamb. But Marland was on a restricted diet and had a less appetizing meal compared to everyone else. Athletes are probably unable to indulge themselves, even at events like this.
"I'll give you a call tomorrow, Jenny. We can chat about it on the phone. I don't want to propose something here and make you feel trapped. I'll come up with an idea tonight, and since I'll only be a voice, you'll have the freedom to respond 'no' if you disapprove."
"What do you think he wants?" I asked Paul as we drove home.
"Maybe dinner? Or perhaps dancing, as Len suggested?"
"I don't think so. I noticed what he was eating. It definitely came from his team's dietitian, not the event caterers. He won't be free to indulge in fast food, much less a feast loaded with caviar at an esteemed restaurant."
"Maybe just dancing, then? He can drink water and you have impressive dance moves."
"Perhaps he might request sex." I blurted out.
"Would you?"
"Would I what?"
"Would you agree to engage in sex with him?"
"I'm married to you!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, you are. But that doesn't dictate you won't ever have sex with someone else again. I'm a lawyer. I see people. People like sex. Even married people. At least one in six wives cheat, with more than that engaging in extramarital sex with their husband's consent."
"What do you want?"
"I want us to remain married. But I also want you, my dear, to be a very happy person. I won't object to your agreeing to sleep with Marland if that's your inclination. If you wish to, that is."
"Why?"
"You have a rare opportunity. If you give in to him, you might enjoy it and you might not. However, if he asks and you turn him down, you may regret it later. Don't let a chance at some sex pass you by."
"Paul, I believe he wants to have sex with me."
I telephoned him at work right after Marland called me.
"I thought so. What did he offer?"
"A long weekend in the countryside. Drive down to Dorset on Friday morning and stay in a quaint cottage, returning home on Monday afternoon."
"Impressive!"
"Is that all you can say? Didn't you think he'd simply request one night with me?"
"Jenny, I genuinely assumed he'd just desire a somewhat long night with you."
"What do you want?"
"Jenny, darling, I believe you should travel with him. Are you confident you don't wish to go?"
"Paul, dearest, I'm convinced you're right. I should accompany him. Are you certain you don't mind?"
"What should I pack?"
We were in bed, just moments after making love. We revisited the offer during dinner, and Paul was very encouraging. In fact, I believe he found the idea quite stimulating.
"Just a toothbrush."
"I'm positive we'll do more than have sex."
"In what way?"
"You should text him tomorrow and inquire about his plans. Do you need to bring a swimming costume for the beach? I'm not sure."
"Condoms?"
"You abhor condoms. That's why I make me withdraw."
"But suppose Marland can't withdraw. Or doesn't want to?"
"You said Susannah and Ralph took three years to conceive, and your parents conceived after numerous tries as well. You detest condoms and have me pull out to prevent getting pregnant. It's quite unlikely you'll become pregnant after merely three nights. And even if that were to happen, I'd fully support you throughout the process."
"You'd truly support me if I got pregnant with another man's child?"
"Support you in what way? I adore you, Jenny. That's why I'd support you."
Then, he slid down to perform oral sex on me, creating a delightfully tranquil orgasm that helped me snooze.
"Just casual clothing. There's a pub that serves excellent Sunday lunch. But you don't need anything fancy for any formal occasions."
A note regarding suggestions: You could use phrases like "swapped phone numbers", "charity event", "water" instead of "diet", "athletes cannot eat what they desire". For descriptions, you may use "restricted diet", "movie" instead of "cinema", "Dorset" can be substituted with "the countryside". For dialogue, you might consider "arranging time to chat", "consent", "possibly enjoying sex" rather than "discussing", "agree to have sex with him". By changing vocabulary, you allow for diverse nuances in your writing.
While we chatted, I pondered over whether to inquire about bringing condoms. I found it difficult to come up with a way to initiate this subject. And then I realized that I wasn't actually interested in him using condoms. Paul was correct; I desired Marland's sperm deep within me. I longed for it to splash against my cervix. I wanted to even imagine it traversing through and reaching my unprotected womb.
As a result, I chose not to raise this matter. Instead, I simply gave him my address and he vowed to collect me at precisely 8 o'clock on Friday.
I packed a duffel bag with two pairs of jeans, some tops that offered support for my small breasts. I didn't include pajamas or nightwear.
Marland had been taciturn at dinner and proficient on the phone. However, he was a skilled conversationalist in the vehicle.
He told me about his recruitment, his training, and the club's dietary regulations.
"I can't eat off the menu during the season. But the season is over now, so I don't have to eat food prepared by our dietitian. I can take you to a pub for a pie and ale if you desire, or to one of those oyster bars in Poole or Bournemouth."
"Oysters? I recall my university boyfriend took me to an oyster bar. We partook in a dozen but only four had success!" I joked.
He chortled, providing me with the decency to react before replying.
"That's not an issue for me. I'm young. But you understand that nothing is obligatory, correct? The club enjoys us attending these events to boost the team's public image. I'm fulfilling my commitment because I'm a man of honor. But the cottage has two bedrooms. You don't have to share a bed with me or have intercourse with me - unless you want to."
So he had addressed it. Sex. I knew I craved having intercourse with him. I could feel my underwear becoming moist with anticipation. Yet, I also understood the need to maintain my composure.
"We'll see, won't we? Perhaps the homeowners will need to change one set of sheets or two."
I recognized it wasn't a question of one or two sets of sheets.
I hurried up the stairs as soon as he opened the door. I discovered the main bedroom, entered, and yelled down to him.
"I'll take the side by the window and you can have the side by the door. Is that okay?"
He didn't say anything. He merely ascended the stairs and sat in front of me.
"Are you certain?"
"I am."
"You're donned with a wedding ring and an engagement ring. I don't want to harm your marriage."
"Don't worry, Marland. Paul and I discussed this. He's fine with me having sex with you. If you want to have intercourse with me, that is. Do you?"
"I've never had sex with a ballet dancer or a gymnast before. And now you present me with the chance to engage in both. Of course!"
I descended and removed my footwear. I also unbuckled my belt and began to unbutton my gown.
"Now?"
I glanced at him and nodded.
"There's no time like the present. In addition, I've never had the opportunity to be fucked by a basketball player before. But it seems as if the proper time, and I assume you can score."
"You're not a basketball expert, are you? That's a soccer-related term," he jested. But I knew he could satisfy me.
He had also been removing his pants when I observed a large phallus, obscured by tight white pants.
"Let me assist you in removing those."
I attained over and gently tugged at his garments. His pants fell, revealing the largest specimen I'd observed outside of porn. I also realized that he'd undoubtedly be quite thick. Larger than Paul, perhaps, but hopefully not long enough to bruise my cervix.
I gently pulled back his foreskin and perused the pink head it concealed. I caressed it. Then I resumed undressing.
I hadn't worn underwear on the journey down but he made me take off my bra. I lay down on the bed and instructed him to prepare me for what I envisioned would be the most penetrating encounter of my life.
I sensed his hair beneath my fingers as his tongue finished the job it had started on the ride over. But I permitted him to persist since he was highly endowed and I knew I required to be exceptionally lubricated before his enormous cock could insert itself within me.
As he licked me, I pondered how I desired to have a biracial child with Paul. I envisioned Paul pushing a stroller displaying our dark-skinned child in the park. I recognized that if he suggested the use of condoms, I would need to plead with him to forgo them.
He said, "You should climb on top." It'll give you control over how much and how fast you take in.
We managed to untangle ourselves. Marland laid down, and I tried to mount him. It wasn't easy with his incredible girth, but I eventually started sliding down him. I built a rhythm and rode him leisurely. I didn't want it to be too wild. I wanted it to last. And I wanted to get as much sperm as possible.
I asked for a pause and requested to lie down.
"You must continue gently, Marland. But let's finish before lunch. And don't think about pulling out. Even though it's for my husband, I want you to flood me with your semen."
He didn't utter a word; he just began thrusting.
When he got going, I surrendered to the bliss of penetration. It was delightful, and I came at least twice. The kind where you forget everything else. All you feel is waves of pleasure coursing through you.
Finally, he was prepared, and I was in position. My hands were on his back, and my legs were around his. He wouldn't be able to escape.
"Cum inside me, Marland. Fill me with your sperm!"
I felt his warmth spreading within me, and it initiated another intense orgasm. When I came, Marland was still trapped, which was my intention.
"Do you feel like getting up?"
"No, I quite like being here with your cock inside me."
"You know we didn't use a condom?"
"I know." I smiled at him. "I hate them. I make my husband pull out."
"And you're comfortable with that?"
"Absolutely. You don't have to use a condom or pull out. You'll need to put in serious effort to impregnate me."
"So be it," he grinned back. "I'll have to work hard then, won't I?"
We both chuckled and ultimately, he pulled out, and we showered together.
Afterwards,
"Would you like to go to a restaurant? I expect I can get us a table for two."
"I didn't really enjoy the oysters. I don't like seafood. I have a basic taste. We don't need to go out. Are you OK with pizza?"
That's how we spent a Friday night in front of the TV with pizza and multiple rounds of lovemaking. Each slice of pizza was compatible.
The rest of our long weekend was similar. We showered regularly, ordered very simple meals, and Marland implanted copious amounts of sperm in me.
I sent Paul a 🍦 emoji after each encounter to inform him that I had been inseminated. He had orders not to text me back.
When Marland dropped me off, just before midnight on Monday, I had a lot of his sperm inside me. In fact, I still had some in me because I wore some old granny knickers for the trip home. The gusset was saturated but I didn't wash him out of me. I simply allowed his sperm to seep into the fabric.
"Can I perform oral sex on you?" He asked when I walked in.
"Eh, Paul. I still have Marland's sperm inside me."
"That's what I was anticipating. I've never performed cunnilingus on anyone with sperm inside them before."
"Are you sure? Isn't it messy?"
Paul was quite proficient in cleaning me up. He seemed to enjoy it and wanted to make me feel good about the weekend away.
"Jenny, if you ever do that again, please return with your cervix walled in cum like that. It was fantastic!"
I was wrong. Paul wasn't attempting to make me feel good. He really relished cleaning the remaining remnants of Marland's semen from me.
"I apologize, Paul. I'm completely spent. I need twelve uninterrupted hours of sleep."
And that's how I fell asleep.
"Jenny, I think we were incorrect."
"About the bathroom tiles or the sink?" We were getting a new bathroom fitted.
"Neither, Paul. It's not the bathroom, it's me!"
"What?"
"What should have happened today, Paul?"
"I don't know, what?"
"I should be on the third day of my period."
"Oh."
"Indeed."
"Should we go to a pharmacy and buy a pregnancy test?"
Paul brought back three different brands, and they all came back positive. I was pregnant with Marland's child.
"I relayed the news to Marland. He said he was overjoyed for us. I don't think he was surprised. I left him with just enough recovery time before insisting that he fill me with more sperm."
"He doesn't want to be part of it."
"And he won't be."
"I'll be part of this journey too. I won't just vanish. In fact, I've even been checking out crib designs." He thrust his iPad in front of me, revealing images of rocking cribs, hanging cribs, and more.
"How certain are you that you're not angry or upset?"
"Not at all. Certainly not."
"Why not?"
"I married you for you. I'm not going to ditch you just because your first, or possibly second, baby might not be mine. I can't say for sure if any of them will be. But as long as you keep me as your husband, I'll stick around."
"So you're implying a second child could come into play?"
"Well, you'll have given birth before next year's charity event. Len's going to capitalize on the thrill you've given him. It's plausible that another professional athlete might want to purchase you for a quick weekend getaway."
"Are you being serious?"
"I'm half joking about the charity event. But I'm serious about staying with you, even if you decide to let someone else father your second child. Like I said, it's you I'm interested in. I don't mind who fathers your children as long as you let me help raise them with you."
And that's exactly what Paul has done. He's remained by my side. He designed the baby's room and crafted a crib using one of those designs.
Some time after we welcomed our new baby girl, Paul received a call from Len.
"Paul, I know this might be a tender subject, but the annual charity dinner's in two months."
"Ah, are you asking us to purchase tickets? Of course."
"Thank you, Paul. That's really sweet of you. By the way, have you spoken to Jenny about the auction?"
He handed me his phone.
"Hi Len. Tell me about your plans."
"Well, last year's auction yielded such a significant amount. And the £5,750 you brought in was almost double what any of the others made. So, I was thinking you might agree to participate again."
"What's your minimum asking price?"
"Uh, minimum? You're asking for a minimum bid?"
"Yes, if I participate again, you need to set a minimum. Natalia fetched £3,000. I'd recommend a minimum bid of £5,000, perhaps even £6,000."
"So you'll agree to it if I offer you a minimum?"
"I'll agree, but only if you guarantee a minimum price. Frankly, I'd prefer the bidding to commence at a high price and keep rising."
And that's how I found out that a renowned footballer named Mpendi shelled out £10,000 to spend a weekend in the Lake District with me.
I've agreed to maintain the baby's room in its current state before Mpendi picks me up.
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