We assembled in the lobby, all seven of us naked, and it was the first time I really got a good look at the other women. More than anything, I was shocked at how young Melissa was. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. She was gorgeous — almost six feet tall, skinny, flawless alabaster skin, with blonde curls almost to her bellybutton. I’m sure she had had loads of sexual experience — she probably had to fight the boys off. But I couldn’t imagine what would lead a girl so young to a place like this.
Peggy was clearly an old pro. She had jet-black hair in a pixie cut, rings in both nipples, and a tattoo that read, “slut for black cocks” across the top of her ample right breast. I had heard most women got their tattoos in places that were easy to hide — the ass, the inner thigh, right above the pussy. But if she wore anything at all low-cut, her proclivities would be announced to the world. I asked if she had gotten it at the Resort, and she told me this was her seventh time here, but she’d only been successfully bred twice. She was hoping for number three this week. She asked me if I had been bred yet.
I was still nervous about talking about this stuff, but I figured if I was ever going to start, now was the time. “Not… I mean… I have two kids… but they’re my husband’s. This will be my first… my first black baby.”
She smiled and squeezed my arm. “I bet it won’t be your last. There’s no feeling more powerful than being bred by black men. Especially the way we do it here.”
A few of the other women made some noises in agreement. I looked around at them. A 30-ish white woman with a shaved head wearing a slave collar they hadn’t made her remove when they took our clothes. An Indian girl, light-brown-skinned, with a ring in her clit and a tattoo of the Ace of Spades on her belly and another just above her slit that said “black owned.” Another white woman, pale as a ghost, with red hair stopping just shy of her light pink nipples. I didn’t see any tattoos or piercings, just a gold wedding band on her left hand. An Asian woman with a sleeve of tattoos on her right arm — they weren’t even R-rated, so I assume she didn’t get them here — and blonde streaks in her long hair.
I felt very unhip compared to these women. I didn’t have any tattoos (yet), nothing was pierced but my ears, and my blonde hair was short, straight, and in a conservative cut that made me look like a soccer mom. Hell, I was a soccer mom! I dropped my two blond-haired boys off at practice every Sunday morning!
So, what the hell was I doing at the Resort?
* * * * *
It started ten years ago, before I was even married. Cuckolding had gone pretty mainstream since people first started talking openly about it back in the 2010s. I’m not saying it was something you’d bring up on a first date or put on a resume. But it was about where S&M was a generation before — definitely a kink, but something that at least some people weren’t ashamed of being open about being into.
My husband Dave was one of those people. I knew when I married him that he wanted me fucking black men while he watched, and before long most of our friends knew too. You’d think a even a lily-white couple like us wouldn’t be so hung up on race in this day and age, but those taboos die hard. There was still something thrilling about watching a black cock rubbing up against my blonde bush.
I couldn’t help myself; I got into it as much as Dave did. Shit, how could I not? The sex was great! I began to wonder how “normal” married women could stand it, having sex with only one man. I had been with five men before I met Dave, and more than twenty since. I eventually settled on a stable of four or five regulars who’d I’d get together with every so often. Every one of them had a cock significantly bigger than Dave’s six inches, and while that may have made him feel inadequate, he couldn’t hide how erotic he found it. We talked all the time about how those cocks went to a place inside me that he just couldn’t reach. In fact, I nicknamed my favorite lover Captain Kirk, because his eleven inches had boldly gone where no man had gone before!
So we were a regular couple, going to work, barbecuing with the neighbors, but once or twice a week, I’d get to fuck a well-hung stud a few times while my husband watched. It was a pretty great deal. We took a break for a few months so Dave could get me pregnant — fortunately, I conceived easily — but I fucked my black friends all through my pregnancy, and picked right up again two months after giving birth. At one point, Kirk had his cock buried deep inside me, both of his hands were on my belly, and he said something about how he wished he had been the one to plant a baby in me.
Pretty sure I had an orgasm right then and there, but I didn’t take it seriously except as a fantasy. But something changed in Dave that day. He started to obsess over the idea. He kept telling me my next baby was going to be black, and asked me if I wanted Kirk to do it, or whether I wanted to fuck five or six guys and not know who the father was. I’ll admit that I enjoyed the fantasy, but I told him firmly it was just that.
But we did indulge the fantasy a bit more. We started getting together with other couples into the cuckold lifestyle, and a few were talking seriously about the wives being black bred. Dave talked about it like it had already been decided. I wasn’t so sure. I mean, at this point it wasn’t unheard of. Back in high school, one of my friends had a little sister who was half-black, and her parents (both white) were still together. And of course, there’s that blonde actress — you know who I mean — who married that English guy and then let that basketball player get her pregnant. They all talked about it so openly. It made a lot of people uncomfortable, but it made some of us feel like we weren’t so strange for wanting this so badly.
So it wasn’t unthinkable. But it was still a pretty big deal. I think that’s why people had started to be fascinated with cuckolding — not too many things were taboo nowadays. There were gay couples celebrating their golden anniversaries; the receptionist at work wore a leather slave collar and would wear backless tops to show off the whip marks she had gotten the night before. Pretty much anything sexual was out in the open. But a married woman getting pregnant by a man who wasn’t her husband? On purpose? With her husband’s encouragement? That was still a big leap for most people to take.
Dave couldn’t hide his disappointment when I wasn’t ready to take the leap. I told him if he gave me one more baby, I’d think about it for the next one. Even some of my friends were disappointed — I hadn’t realized how many of my monogamous friends had been living vicariously through me until that moment. I swear a few of them were in league with Dave, who spent the next two years wearing me down. All through my second pregnancy, he’d rub my swelling belly and talk about how the next one was going to be black, or he’d wonder out loud at who the father would be. My friend Yuki kept at me too — “So he wanted another man, one with a huge black cock, to knock you up? Shit, if my husband said that to me, I’d be pregnant by tomorrow morning!”
But is was Annie who finally convinced me. She was one of our friends from an online cuckold group. We hadn’t seen her for a few months, and when we went over to their place, she surprised me with a round, swollen belly and an unmistakable glow. I was pretty far along myself at that point, but I didn’t even know she was pregnant. My maternal instincts kicked in and I squealed with excitement. “Oh my God! How far along are you! Why didn’t you tell me!”
“I wanted to surprise you! It’s going to be a girl! Black, of course.”
Of course. “Damn. So you went through with it? Was it that guy you’d been seeing?” Unlike some of the cuckolding wives I knew, she had one steady black stud she had been seeing for years. I took in the sight of her — Annie had a sweet, innocent face, with red hair and freckles, and looked five years younger than she was — and she was only 24. That made the idea of her fucking a muscular black man in front of her husband seem all the sluttier. She was wearing a tiny top that exposed her baby bump completely, and showed off her plump, pregnancy boobs nicely. She was showing off as much of her pale white skin as possible — I couldn’t get the image out of my head of her black boyfriend fucking a baby into her.
“Oh, you have no idea.” She paused dramatically. “I went to The Resort.”
I could hear the capital letters in her voice, but I didn’t know what resort she meant. Over the next hour, she enthusiastically filled Dave and I in on every detail.
* * * * *
We had some time to kill before the proceedings started — or, maybe this was part of the proceedings, sitting on the couches in the hotel lobby, getting to know your fellow black cock enthusiasts. Apart from Peggy, we were relative newcomers, and I was surprised to learn not all of us were in the cuckold lifestyle. The Asian woman — Sung — was there for the first time. She wasn’t married, she just wanted a baby and didn’t care too much about the black thing. I was still impressed that she wanted to get her baby this way, but she said it seemed a hell of a lot more fun than doing it in a doctor’s office.
The Indian girl, Nima, was cuckolding her white husband. It was her third time here, and she was really hoping she’d catch this time. She said she got the Ace of Spades tattoo her first time. I asked if she got the “black owned” one her second time and she laughed. “I got this at midnight on my eighteenth birthday, the first minute it was legal. And I’ve lived by it. Only black men have been allowed to touch me, from my first kiss to my dying day. I knew from a pretty young age that I wanted lots of big, black cocks inside me.”
She seemed about my age, early 30s, so I assumed she had had her fair share of cocks over the years. “But your husband…?”
“He’s white. I keep his little dick locked in a cage. He fucking loves it.”
“But if you don’t want to fuck him, why didn’t you just marry a black guy.”
“Oh, believe me, I was tempted. But think about it. If I married a black man, I’d only be fucking him. With my cuckold wimp of a husband, I can fuck loads of guys.”
I could see the excitement in her eyes, thinking about the week she had ahead of her.
The girl with the shaved head didn’t say much. She gave her name as “slave,” and only said that her Master had sent her here, “to be punished… and rewarded.” I assumed there’d be some S&M shit as the punishment, and the baby was the reward, but who knows. Maybe it was the other way around.
The redhead was named Molly, she was 24, and a newlywed. She had practically come straight from the altar, in fact. “I got married yesterday! This is my honeymoon. My husband will be at home, watching the streaming video. He really wanted me black bred, so I figured, why wait? We were going to have a bunch of guys do the honors on our wedding night, but then I found out about this place. Today will be the first time I’ve ever had unprotected sex. I never have with my husband, and I probably never will. We always used condoms before, and we both agreed he’s only going to fuck my ass now that we’re married. We both love the symbolism — I’ll be shitting out his weak sperm while superior black men’s seed will soak into my womb as nature intended. I’m so happy we got the timing so close — I wanted to be bred on my wedding night, but it’s at least within 24 hours.”
The Resort scheduled visits very carefully. They were timed to your cycle so that you were ovulating while you were here, ideally early in the week. If your period came off-schedule, you’d get bumped a week forwards or backwards, and if they didn’t have room, you could be rescheduled months down the line. From what I heard, Molly seemed like the typical customer — a white, married woman like myself, who shared a deep cuckolding fantasy with her husband.
But it was Melissa’s story I was dying to hear, and it didn’t disappoint. “It’s my graduation present. From my parents.”
My jaw dropped. “Your parents… send you here? For… this?” My hands automatically went to my soon-to-be-swelling belly.
“It’s family tradition! My older sisters were both bred here when they finished college. I even graduated a semester early so I didn’t have to wait!”
I was still trying to get my head around this. “So, your parents… are okay with you… having…?”
“A gangbang? A baby? An overpowering lust for black cocks?” She rubbed her pussy with a flourish. “Yes, yes, and yes.” She gave me a devilish grin. “Even if they didn’t, Mom couldn’t really say shit — my three younger siblings were all conceived here. When I was six, she started coming here every three months — apart from when she was pregnant, of course. By the time I hit puberty, she had been bred for the third time, so every time I got the “birds and the bees” speech, there was a lot of stuff about how superior black men are, and how there’s no better feeling than having a black cock stretching you out, and how fulfilling it was to have loads of black sperm in your womb. I guess you could say I was raised for this.”
It took me a few minutes to pick my jaw up off the floor. To think I was so nervous about going through this — she was practically shaking with excitement at the thought of what was going to happen.
Eventually, a black man came out from behind the reception desk. He was wearing yoga pants and nothing to cover his dark, muscular chest. Every employee of the Resort was a well-hung black man, and no one wore very much. He spoke in a warm baritone:
“Now, as you all know, before we can begin, each of you has to make a commitment. Are you ready?”
* * * * *
Of course, there were sex clubs all over America catering to every perversity under the sun, and the Resort was set up for every kink you could imagine. But what made it unique was that, it catered to females only, and whatever else they were into, every woman who walked in the door had every intention of walking out with a black baby in her belly.
Annie told me this rapturously, and it was clear that she had wanted that baby more than anything. “It was the most intense sexual experience of my life. You fuck so many men when you’re there. So many times. I had a gallon of black seed inside me by the end of every night. But knowing what it was there for — knowing I was unprotected, and fertile, and every one of those man was there to breed me…”
Her voice trailed off. She was getting flushed just describing it to me.
“You have to do it. Becky, you have to. I know you two have been talking about it. Seriously, it was the best experience of my life.” She rubbed her belly. “I’m going to have such a beautiful baby.” She paused for a minute, and a beatific smile crept across her face. “The first of many. I already have my next stay booked. They have a long waiting list, so if I want to have babies two years apart, I have to sign up now.”
“Of course… there are some rules.” She paused for a minute, as if to tell me to brace myself. “You have to be naked at all times, but that’s fine because you’re fucking so often that clothes would just get in the way. Most of the sex is in front of other people, but that’s cool too, because the other girls are all there for the same reason you are, and the guys are all going to fuck all of you at some point. And all of it is videotaped. That’s for the husbands,” (I noticed Dave’s face light up), “although some of us just like to preserve the memory.”
She leaned over to the coffee table and pushed a button on the remote. The TV came to life on a still of Annie’s lithe, sweaty body, on all fours, with a tall, athletic black man shoving a gigantic cock into her pussy. All four of us watched, mesmerized, as she moaned and cried out while her pussy got pounded. Eventually, the man stiffened up, and started grunting, and we all knew she was getting a load of African sperm shot deep inside of her. I wondered whether it was the one that did the job.
The camera angle changed, and we saw a close-up of her pussy, with globs of white seed leaking out. He must have filled her to overflowing. She rolled over, and her fingers came into the frame, scooping up as much of the sperm as she could and trying to push it inside herself. As she rolled over, I noticed something written on her ass, but in the glimpse I got, I couldn’t make out what it was. And before I could ask about it, there was another cock, as big and black as the first, sliding smoothly into her cunt.
If Annie was uncomfortable with two relative strangers watching her pussy get stretched out on a big screen TV, she didn’t show it. We watched in silence for about ten minutes, and I couldn’t help wishing that was me on the screen. Even moreso when the Annie on the video started moaning, “come on! Give me that cum! I want a black baby! Knock me up!” He picked up the pace, and after a few minutes of energetic fucking, he was blasting another load directly at her womb.
Annie paused the video. “There are six more guys, if you want to keep watching. And I had already fucked four or five throughout the day. They take it easy on you in the morning, and then build up to a gangbang after dinner. Again, you have to do this. Not optional.”
“I think you’re starting to convince me.”
She let out a squeal of delight, and hugged me as well as our pregnant bellies would allow. “Oh my God, if you sign up right now, we can be pregnant together next time! How awesome would it be if, two years from now, both of us had black babies grown in our bellies?” I looked at Dave, and he raised his eyebrows. Clearly, he also thought that would be awesome.
“I’m curious… was there something written on your ass? What was that about?”
“Oh yeah. Like I said, there are rules. You have to make a commitment.” She stood up and lifted her skirt. She wasn’t wearing any panties, and on her ass, in big capital letters, was a tattoo reading, “FILL ME WITH BLACK CUM!”
* * * * *
They interviewed us separately, so I didn’t know right away what the other women chose. But they wasted no time. We were in a massage room — the hotel was small, as it was only set up for six to eight guests, but it was not shy on facilities. The interviewer had me lay on the table, on my back, my ass right up against the end of the table, my legs apart. He was naked when he came to get me, and as I spread my legs for him, his cock started to grow. And grow. By the time it was fully erect, it was at least as big as Kirk’s.
He stood between my legs, and laid his massive tool against my slit. He made no move to penetrate me, but very slowly rubbed against my opening. Needless to say, I was already soaking wet.
“Why are you here?”
I had mentally prepared for this, and as nervous as I was, I knew the best thing was to be direct and not waste his time.
“I want a black baby.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“I love fucking black men. And at this resort, I want to fuck lots of black men, without any birth control. I want to take as much black sperm as possible into my white womb, and conceive a baby. I want to bring a black baby home to my white husband. I want the whole world to know that I’m a slut, who loves big black cocks, and fucks lots of other men. I want the world to see my baby and know that another man besides my husband got me pregnant. That I married a white man, but I need black cocks, and I needed them to put a black baby in me, and I don’t care who knows it. Everyone I know will find out that I don’t know who the father is and don’t care. I only care that he isn’t my husband, and that he has a big black cock. I want a black baby. No. I need a black baby. And the next time I see my husband, I’m going to have a black baby growing inside me.”The interviewer smiled. I hadn’t planned out what I was going to say, that all just came pouring out of me. And it wasn’t until I had said it that I realized it was true. I needed this. I had been acting like this was Dave’s fantasy, but in the year and a half I had been waiting for this moment, my need for this outgrew even his. The desire in me was so slutty, so taboo, so wrong. And so completely overpowering.
I swear the cock pressed up against my pussy pulsed as I finished my little speech. But he made no move to put it in me, as badly as I wanted him to. There was something I needed to do first.
“As you know, staying at the Resort is a serious business. Only women who are utterly determined to be bred by black men can do so here. You seem like you’re determined, but as you know, we expect our clients to make a serious commitment. Are you ready to do so?”
I had butterflies in my stomach, and not just because his cockhead was rubbing against my clit. I swallowed hard. “I am.”
“And how would you like to show your commitment?”
Every visit to the Resort included a commitment, and on subsequent visits, I’d have several choices — tattooing, branding, piercing. Sometimes if you had long enough hair, shaving it off would count. But you had to offer up part of your body, to be changed in some way, before you could offer up your womb.
First timers had to get a tattoo, and it had to be a permanent declaration of your love for black men, and black cock in particular. Subsequent ones could be words or pictures, so long as they were sexual in nature. Months ago, I had decided on a simple “I love black dick” on my ass. But something about the other women’s stories made me change my mind. It was an impulsive decision, and one I hoped I wouldn’t regret later. Maybe the massive black cock still rubbing against my sex was clouding my judgement. But I told him what I wanted, and once the words left me, it was too late to take them back.
“I want a tattoo right above my pussy: Black Cock Only.”
I wondered how my husband would deal with that. I intended to live by it. He was the one who wanted me fucking black men in the first place, so he’d have to deal with me fucking them exclusively. He could still have my ass. There was something I liked about Molly’s idea of black men’s sperm soaking into my womb, remaining a part of me, while my husband’s would all be shit out eventually. I knew he’d be turned on by the idea, even if he didn’t want to lose access to my pussy. Well, fuck it. It was my pussy. And my pussy was hungry for black dick.
Twenty minutes later, a bandage was covering up my tattoo. The artist — a different black man than the one who interviewed me — did a nice-looking job, and I barely noticed the pain. I was consumed by lust, watching the tattoo artist’s muscular chest, and the interviewer’s cock across the room. He stayed with me for the duration, and even only semi-hard he was bigger than my husband. I fantasized about both of them taking me, putting their seed in me. I wondered if either of them would be the father of my baby.
I had gone off the pill three months earlier, to prepare my body for breeding. I had put my lovers on hold, and made my husband use a condom, to make sure I didn’t get pregnant by accident before I came to the resort. But as my body was flooded anew with hormones, I started craving sex. I had felt those hormones with my first two children, but it was more intense this time. My body wanted another baby, badly, and my womb wanted to be filled with sperm. Now that I was on the verge of getting what I needed, I could barely stand the anticipation.
But still, I had to wait. The two men led me back to the resort’s lobby, where the other women were led in one by one. The tattoo artist removed my bandage, and the other girls applauded when they saw “black cock only” written across my lower belly. One by one, the others revealed their latest commitments. Nima had shiny new rings in both nipples — she said she alternated between tattoos and piercings. Sung had “black bred” tattooed on her inner thigh — she planned on adding that day’s date if her breeding was successful. Molly had “I need black cum” stenciled on her ass. Peggy showed off a freshly-pierced labia; two rings, both on the left side. Unsurprisingly, Melissa’s was the most elaborate — her right hip now sported a detailed tattoo of herself, naked, on all fours, being fucked from behind by a muscular black man. She could cover it up easily enough at work, but in a swimsuit, or even low-rise jeans, she wouldn’t be able to help showing off her proclivities to the world. The slave girl had the most shocking commitment, though — a brand on her ass, in some abstract symbol that presumably meant something to her master. Whatever her game was, I was glad I wasn’t playing.
Once we had a few minutes to check each other out, one of the men spoke. “Now. Are we ready to do what we all came here for?” Before I got a chance to respond to that, I felt strong arms around my waist, and hands roaming across my belly. They moved up towards my breasts, as an unseen man kissed my neck. My pussy had been damp all morning, in anticipation of what was going to happen, and now that it was finally here, I was on fire. At long last, I was going to be black bred.
The furniture in the lounge was entirely made up of low couches, with no back, like oversized ottomans. I suddenly realized why, as the man behind me bent me over one of them. Each of the other women got the same treatment, and I realized they had arranged us in a circle — I could see the black men getting ready to fuck each of the other girls, but not the one behind me. More men stood behind them, waiting their turn, cocks erect — none of them small. These other women were going to watch me being bred, and I was going to watch them. I was glad this intensely personal moment, this turning point in my life, was going to be shared with women who knew exactly the tumult of emotions I was feeling right now.
The man holding me from behind grabbed my hips. I felt a fat cockhead slide in between my pussy lips. It was finally happening. After so many months of anticipation, I was being bred with a black baby. The cock inside me went deep, and even as wet as I was, he was thick enough that I felt resistance. I felt deliciously stretched out, and I savored every stroke of his cock inside me. He picked up the pace and eventually his cockhead started tapping my cervix on every downstroke. The pain just intensified the experience, and feeling my cervix made me acutely aware that at any moment, he was going to shoot a load of sperm directly into my fertile womb, in search of a waiting egg. I looked up, and my sisters in this depraved act were having equally intense experiences, from the looks on their faces, and the incoherent moans coming out of their mouths.
Molly started murmuring, “please… please…”, and soon others joined the redhead in vocalizing their most forbidden desires. I heard Melissa moan, “cum deep inside me. Fill me with your seed.” And without hardly realizing it, I heard myself crying out, “Breed me! Put your baby in me! Give me a black baby! Give me a black baby!” By the second time, I could barely get the words out, I was cumming so hard. That must have pushed the stud buried in my cunt over the edge, as I felt his cock spasming, as wave after wave of hot, thick, creamy sperm coated my insides. I came down from my orgasm a changed woman. There was no going back for me. I was going to have a black baby.
I wondered if I was fully ready for the consequences of that, or whether my husband fully understood where his fantasy had led us. For the rest of our lives, there would be no hiding the fact that I had cuckolded him, and willingly had another man’s baby, with my husband’s consent. He would spend his life raising a baby that was unmistakably the product of my coupling with another man — men, in fact — and he could never again, for a moment, pretend he had a faithful wife, or pretend that he objected to my sluttiness.
And I could never pretend to be anything other than a slut. But that’s the way I wanted it. Maybe not when this all started, but by the time that first load of African sperm hit my fertile womb, I was fully committed to being a slut for black cocks. Everyone I knew — friends, parents, co-workers — would know exactly how I had gotten pregnant, how much I enjoyed it, and how my husband had encouraged it. Just like Annie had, I’d encourage my friends to take their turn being black bred. I was a slut for black cocks, and within a few days, the sperm soaking into my womb would find a waiting egg, and I’d be a pregnant slut.
To insure that happened, I’d need a lot more potent sperm in my womb, and the men at the resort were happy to oblige. No sooner did the first man slowly slide his cock from the depths of my womb, when another took its place. Not quite as long, but fatter. I savored the feeling of being stretched out by this huge black phallus, knowing that not a drop of sperm from my first fuck was going to escape, since my pussy was plugged airtight. He began thrusting into me powerfully, stretching my pussy on every downstroke. Soon I’d have millions more sperm inside of me, competing to fertilize my egg, ensuring that I’d never know who the father of my baby was.
This was my life now. This was what I wanted. I moaned aloud, letting the other women know how much I was enjoying the cock that was stretching me out. I looked up and saw Sung tense up with an orgasm, before the man fucking her filled her womb with cum. Molly repeated “cum in me, fill me with your seed, I want your baby,” again and again in a whisper until her man obliged. Nima had climbed on top of her man and was rubbing her clit while riding him energetically. One by one, I watched each woman get her second load of black sperm, while the assault on my pussy continued unabated. Eventually, we were the only ones still fucking, and all eyes were on me. To my surprise, I found being watched like this, a whole room full of people watching me being taken roughly from behind, intensely erotic. I was engaging in the sluttiest, most depraved behavior of my life, and I was doing it in front of an audience, and I was loving every second of it.
Finally, he drove his cock deep inside of me, and I felt a torrent of hot, potent sperm flood my innermost recesses. I wondered how much sperm I’d have inside me by the time I fell asleep tonight, and whether I’d have a baby growing inside me when I woke up.
Another man took his turn inside me, and then another, and another, and another. Six loads of sperm in all, six potential fathers for my baby. My pussy was a sloppy mess, and my body was sweaty and sore, but satisfied. Each of the women here had taken six loads of sperm in our fertile, unprotected wombs, and each of us would drift off to sleep wondering whether we had been bred successfully. We were sent to separate bedrooms, alone, so I lay in a warm bed, sheets sticking to my sweaty, cum-covered skin, my body missing the touch of black hands, and my pussy missing being filled with black cock. But there was always tomorrow…
The rest of the week followed the same routine; wake up sticky and sore, have a nice hot shower, have a big breakfast, fuck the cook or the waiter on the breakfast table, have a nice, relaxing massage, then a slow, intense fuck with the masseuse, a dip in the pool, and then another load of sperm from the lifeguard. On this went through the day, with each of us usually fucking four or five of the men. In between turns being bred, we’d compare notes on the men, or how our pussies felt after being pounded so often and filled with so much black sperm. We’d talk dreamily about the babies we imagined must already be growing in our wombs.
Then in the late afternoon, we’d gather in the main room for what I began to think of as the ceremony — bent over those couches in a circle, watching each other as we got fucked by six different men. Usually at least one man would come back for seconds, sometimes more than one. After that we went straight to dinner, without cleaning up. There was no dinner table. We’d each sit on a chaise lounge, tilted backwards so no precious black seed would leak out of our wombs. We’d each have one of our black lovers feeding us by hand, while we lay back and relaxed, luxuriating in the feeling of our bodies absorbing six or more copious loads of potent African seed. Usually after we ate, our server would have the energy for one more go-around, and we’d go to bed, sweaty, sticky, and freshly-fucked — the way every girl should go to bed every night she can manage.
All in all, each of us got at least a dozen loads of sperm a day in our fertile, unprotected wombs, on a daily basis. I knew that even with all that cum inside me, pregnancy wasn’t a guarantee — the body rejects a fertilized egg half the time, so my odds were 50/50 at best. I was torn between wanting another baby so badly, and hoping I wasn’t pregnant so I’d get to go through this all again in a few months. The resort guaranteed results, so I had a standing appointment every other month until I was in the club.
I promised myself one thing, pregnant or not, this wasn’t going to be my last visit to the resort. We had always talked about stopping after three kids, but there was no way I wasn’t going to experience this again. Dave was just going to have to get used to the idea of a big family. Everything about this week — the marathon of sex, the likelihood of an illicit pregnancy, bonding with the other women, even being permanently marked by the tattoo — taken together, it was the most intense experience of my life, and I vowed I would repeat the experience as often as I could.
But mostly it was the sex. Sex without love, without a relationship, purely for one purpose, to breed me. To put a baby in my belly. A baby who’s father would never be known to me. A baby whose appearance would bring scandal and shame, no doubt, but would also prove my husband’s utmost devotion to me, and my devotion to the depraved, taboo, utterly thrilling lifestyle we had chose.
Finally, the week came to an end. Every part of my body was sore, but satisfied. By my count, I had taken about ninety loads of black seed in the span of seven days. I probably orgasmed even more times than that. I’m pretty sure I ovulated on day two, so that egg was assaulted by a tsunami of sperm, and had almost certainly been fertilized. But I didn’t have to wonder any more. The moment of truth had arrived.
Seven ceramic basins were arranged on the floor in place of the low couches. We were each handed a plastic stick and instructed to squat over one. The most advanced pregnancy tests on the market could tell within a few days of conception, so if any of us had been bred successfully, we were about to find out.
Sung must have had to go, because she started pissing the moment they handed her the stick. Slave had probably been trained to do so, because she squatted down and pissed in front of everyone without flinching. As brazen as Melissa was, she was adorably shy about peeing in front of everyone. But after a minute of nervousness, I had no trouble releasing my bladder in front of the assembled crowd of potential mothers and fathers.
The wait was excruciating — the longest three minutes of my life. I could feel my heart pounding, and I could see the conflicting emotions on the faces of the other women. Finally, I heard a whoop of delight from Nima. “I did it! I’m pregnant!” A smile broke across Melissa’s face. “Looks like I’m having a black baby!” Molly burst into tears, and I assumed the worst, but they were tears of joy. The newlywed was overcome with emotion at the thought of the child growing inside of her. Slave didn’t make a sound, but I saw a look of quiet acceptance and even the hint of a smile on her face, and I knew she was in the club too. Peggy was the most relaxed of the bunch, having already been through this twice. “Well, boys, looks like you knocked me up again!” Sung just walked from one man to another, half in a daze, repeating, “thank you, thank you,” while kissing the men, stroking their cocks, and letting them run their hands over her soon-to-be swollen belly and breasts.
All of our bellies were going to be swelling soon. I looked away from the jubilant women and into my hands. A bright pink plus stared back at me. I had a baby growing inside of me. I had been black bred.
* * * * *
Every head turned as I walked through the airport. Part of the resort’s expensive service was a trip back to my home city in a small private plane. I’m sure I wouldn’t have been allowed on a commercial flight dressed as I was. The clothes I’d worn originally had been shipped back to my husband, just as a reminder that his wife would be naked and available at all times. When we left the resort, each of us were only wearing three things: Every girl left the resort wearing a pair of pink panties, which had printed on the front “full of black seed.” Every girl that was successfully bred wore a low-cut tank top that stopped short of her flat-for-now stomach, which read in big bold letters, “black baby on board.” And because every woman in the group had caught — a rarity, even at the resort — we were each given a special gift, a diamond ankle bracelet. Ankle bracelets, of course, were what married women wore to signal to men that they were available for extramarital sex. I didn’t plan on taking mine off any time soon.
That was it. Three things. No skirt, no pants, not even shoes. I was a bit worried airport security would stop me, but apart from lots of stares, no one bothered me. Dave lit up when he saw me. When he saw the shirt, and understood exactly what it meant. He kissed me passionately, grabbing my panty-clad ass in front of everyone. Anyone who had read the shirt and now saw me kissing my white husband would know exactly what the score was. That just made things even more exciting. Dave even slipped a hand under my shirt and stroked one of my breasts for a moment. I didn’t care who saw. I was his black bred slut — no behavior was too shameless for me now.
Finally, we broke the kiss, and I said out loud, loud enough for people passing by to hear: “We’re having a black baby!”
I thought he was going to come in his pants right then and there. “Oh, honey. I’m so proud of you. I’m so happy. I watched every minute of it online — you really are the sexiest woman in the world. And you’re even sexier with a pregnant glow.”
I was beaming. He told me exactly what I wanted to hear — I had been gangbanged and knocked up with a black baby, and my white husband loved me more than ever. But I had to see how far his devotion would go. Still standing in the airport terminal, I pulled down the front of my panties, just enough so he could see the tattoo: “Black Cock Only.”
“Oh, sweetie, that is so fucking sexy.”
“Just so you know, I plan on living by those words. From now on, I’m going to have lots of black cocks in my pussy, and you’re never going to fuck me there again. My mouth and my ass are still fine, but my pussy belongs to black men, now and forever.”
I braced myself for his reaction, and to be honest, I would have backed down if he had objected. But he just held me close and kissed me again. “You are so fucking sexy.” I could feel his erection press into my belly as he held me.
So that was that. For the next few months, I went back to fucking my black lovers regularly — they were all disappointed I hadn’t let any of them get me pregnant, but they all loved the tattoo. Dave either got a blowjob while I had a black cock inside of me, or he jerked off onto my pregnant belly while I recounted my adventures at the Resort, or while we watched the videos of my breeding — as it turns out, over seven days at the resort, I spent nearly a full 24 hours with a cock inside of me, so we had lots of video to choose from. I spent as much time as I could naked, teasing my husband with my pregnant body. He found my round belly and swollen breasts sexy every time I was pregnant, but this time things were far more intense, since there was no chance of it being his baby growing inside me.
Finally, nine months after my stay at the resort, I gave birth to a beautiful brown-skinned baby girl. No one was shocked, as I had told everyone I knew exactly how I had gotten pregnant. A few people at work expressed some disapproval, but as the Supreme Court had ruled it was illegal to fire someone for their sexual proclivities, they had to suck it up. The office even threw me a baby shower — what else could they do? My parents never really understood why I would want to cuckold my husband, but they were happy to have another grandchild, and they adjusted.
Things never quite got back to normal from Dave and I. Having fully embraced my sluttiness, there was no going back. I breastfed the baby in public at every opportunity. I started wearing more and more revealing outfits, to the point where I wore as little as possible as often as possible. I never, ever took off my ankle bracelet, and used it to attract men on plenty of occasions. I stayed true to the words written on my lower abdomen, fucking plenty of black men, and no one else. Dave didn’t object to the fact that his cock never entered my pussy. He was happy enough watching me fuck, and as thanks I gave him a steady diet of blowjobs, and let him take my ass on special occasions. Sometimes I’d let him fuck my ass while one of my other lovers fucked my pussy. It’s a great feeling, both being so full, and knowing my husband is engaged so completely in my fucking other men.
The funny thing about the baby was, she was my baby, just like the first two. When you’re doing regular mom stuff — runny noses, bedtimes, helping with homework — you don’t think about her not looking like your husband, or flash back to the gangbang she was conceived in; she’s just a regular kid. A great kid, in fact. But there are still moments when it all comes back. Every time we have to explain — to a neighbor, to a stranger in the supermarket, to a teacher who had one of my older kids years before — there’s that charge, that combination of guilt and lust and shame and thrilling transgression. I had cuckolded my husband, willingly had another man’s baby, and the results were on display for all to see. Dave admitted that he got aroused every time he had to admit to someone else he was a willing cuckold. And, of course, I now spent a fair amount of my time fucking other men at every opportunity.
But other than the nights spent with another man’s cock buried inside me, I was a regular housewife and mom. I took care of my kids, I cooked dinners for my family, I had girls’ nights out with my friends. I had a typical suburban life, except that a few nights a week, my white husband would jerk off while I was impaled on a thick, black cock. And every few years, daddy would take care of the kids on his own for a while so mommy could go in for another breeding.
Yes, of course I went back to the resort. Two years after I conceived so easily, I went back to be bred again. This time my womb wasn’t as receptive. It took three tries, each two months apart. I was secretly glad, as it meant I got three chances to spend a full week having my pussy stretched to its limits. Two years after that, I went back to be bred a third time. That time it took five tries, over the course of a year. I had no regrets at all. The most intense experiences of my life have been the five times I’ve given birth, and my nine visits to the resort. Obviously the times I was bred successfully mean the most to me, but every time was an incredible experience.
Nine visits to the Resort weren’t cheap, but I loved the idea of Dave paying so much money to have a bunch of strange men give me the fucking of a lifetime and put a baby into me — two things he was no longer allowed to do. Once, by lucky coincidence, Annie and I were both there at the same time. She fell pregnant with her third baby out of four on that trip — all conceived at the Resort, unsurprisingly. I convinced my friend Yuki to give the Resort a try, and she’s got a beautiful Blackanese daughter in addition to the two boys she has with her white husband. And every trip, I bonded with the five or six other women who got bred alongside me. It’s a powerful experience, that someone who hasn’t experienced it can’t completely understand. So those of us who have feel a powerful connection.
Nine visits also meant nine commitments. After the initial tattoo, women often chose piercings, or occasionally having their head shaved, because those things were temporary. But I liked to think my commitment went deeper than that. I have nine tattoos, each expressing a variation on the same sentiment, that I was a shameless slut that needed black cocks inside of me as often as possible.
Which, naturally, I am. Most women my age are seeing their sex lives winding down. But even with five kids, I still find the time to get a dick inside of me three or four times a week — and rarely the same dick each time. And, of course, frequent blowjobs for my loving, supportive husband, at least when he isn’t spent from jerking off watching me get royally fucked by one of my lovers.
Sure, some people are shocked that I’ve had sex with so many men, or that I have no idea who fathered my last three children. But I don’t care. I wouldn’t change a single thing. My only regret is, that after five babies, my breeding days are behind me, which means I’ll never get to go back to The Resort again. At least I’ve got plenty more years as an adulterous slut ahead of me! And, of course, I have an obligation to bring as many more women into the lifestyle as I can. So if you’re looking to have a baby, or your wife is, book a stay at The Resort today! You won’t regret it!