Male Surrogate

[intriguess]

We had been married for five years, trying to have a child for pretty much our entire marriage. Last year we had gone through all the tests and found out that I was very fertile, and my husband's swimmers were damaged. It had changed things between and our lovemaking had changed from every day to taper off until we hadn't made love for a month.

We talked about artificial insemination but decided it wasn't worth the cost. We talked about adopting, but he felt it would take too long to get a healthy baby.

I lay cuddled in his arms and asked if he still wanted children. He nuzzled against me and said yes, but he wanted that child to be mine even if it couldn't be his. When I asked how he said he was working on that.

OOC
so not sure where I want this to go from here, you can be his brother or relative, co worker, friend etcetera that he's going to set up with me.

 

[intriguess]

my husband was gone for weekend and a single girlfirend of mine was staying with me, we ordered chinese and talked like old days, when conversation turned to sex I admitted how long it had been since I'd been satisfied. I had bought a toy but hadn't had the guts to use it yet.

 

[brunoone]

Three times a week. Rain, sleet or snow. Three times a week, I'm at the gym. I don't go there to meet people; I don't go there to talk; I don't go there to show-off. I go there to hurt. It broke my heart when Ronnie went upscale and brought in the sissy stuff: mirrored walls, step aerobics, a damn juice bar. What does that crap have to do with the deep sting of a bench press? "It's profit margin, Jeff," he tells me. Still, it's close to the apartment, and I guess I'm too much a creature of habit to go anywhere else. But please... unless you're serious about needing a spotter... leave me and gravity alone in my cinder block corner and let me sweat.

A pissy attitude like mine and you can see why Steve rubbed me raw at first. He's a talkative cuss. Maybe 'inquisitive' is a better word. More questions than a census taker. I'm shoving 150 lbs toward the ceiling and he's writing my life story. I had enough of that but quick. I shrugged him off, until I figured he was gonna be a regular around the place.

Four months of working out next to him, I guess I must've softened a little. I grew to, you know, tolerate him anyway. Even though I'm still not 100% comfortable with the way he kinda -- does this sound paranoid? -- "checks me out" in the shower. Okay, okay... I'm 6'4"... 200 lbs... blond as an Aryan poster child... everything's on the large size... but it's all where it's supposed to be and in good working order... what's to stare at?

Steve's into treadmills and bikes and stairmasters. The sort of exercise you could get in the normal course of a day, if only you had a mind to. Whatever. It keeps him fit. He's not into bulking up, exactly. Doesn't measure his success in biceps. Still doesn't know what a 'deltoid' is. Probably in it for the kind of gut he doesn't have to suck in around his wife.

He talks about her a lot. A lot. Beautiful this. Gorgeous that. Showed me wallet pictures to prove he doesn't exaggerate. She's definitely worth crossing a bar to pick up. But also definitely married.

The other thing Steve talks about? Kids. Like he's Dr. Spock or something. I'm surprised he doesn't have a gaggle of them. It's obvious he wants a houseful.

Maybe, in a couple years, when I hit 35, family'll interest me more. Right now, though, it's about the job. What my mom called "getting established." It wouldn't be fair for me to drag a wife and kids along after me down the firm's partner track.

So, it's patent law by day (yeah, yeah, I know -- yawn), the gym rat thing three times a week, the odd party now and then, a little travel when I can make it happen.

Recently, Steve's been talking about adding -- his words -- "another talent to my repertoire." He's also been peppering me with legal questions about surrogate parenthood. I'm trying like crazy not to put two and two together, but the gist of our conversations lately is getting pretty hard to ignore. I wonder if... nah. Couldn't be. Still... if his wife -- don't even know her name yet -- is the looker in person she seems in those pics... I could see myself becoming radically open-minded...

[Edited by brunoone on 03-21-2001 at 10:23 PM]

 

[intriguess]

Mickie

When the next day my husband called from work and told me to break out the bottle of good red wine and wear the special lingerie and that red dress he bought last year for my birthday i shivered. I cooked enough food for five and made sure the wine was chilling as I went upstairs to dress. First the lacey black panties, I had shaved my pussy when I was in shower in anticipation of whatever he had planned. Next the black bra 36 quad D, it was very nice, cupping my large melon sized breasts, the nipples already hard as I adjusted them to jut out the wholes in the bra designed for leaving nipples free.

I put the black garter belt on the clips making a dark line against my pale milky skin. I shivered in anticipation, as I rolled up the black silk stockings, glancing back, seeing my ass in the mirror as I was bent over to roll up the stockings. I looked good, I finished and turned to the mirror, my belly was flat since I hadn't had children. I was sad as my fingers ran along the pale smooth expanse of skin.

Now for the dress, I had never had courage to wear it before, but something in my husbands voice turned me on. I glanced in mirror again, friends and family were constantly asking when we'd have a child as my breasts were made for nursing, my husband called them milk jugs. He always said he couldn't wait until they were filled with milk. It made me blush. I was t-shirt and jeans type of gal, not used to having a man worship my body.

I slide the red dress over my head the soft fabric brushing my bare nipples delightfully. I took in a deep breath as I looked at the sinful picture in the mirror, my dark hair done up on my head my soft pale neck gleaming in the soft light. My pulse leaping as I slide on a pair of red heels and rush downstairs.

I set the table and heard the door open, I rushed to kiss my husband but stopped short when I saw he wasn't alone.