Roxanne
A firm running management training courses lived on the same floor as my company, and I sometimes met one or other of the staff on my way to the toilets or the lift. They were with one exception unfriendly and aloof, hardly bothering to respond if I said hello. A pity, as some of them were young and/or attractive females. The exception was a lovely Asian girl who never failed to greet me with a warm smile and a remark or even stopped to converse. I should explain that in Britain (unlike North America), the term Asian generally refers to someone from the Indian sub-continent, not the Far East. Although my friend had been born in England, her parents came from Kerala, in south India, and she had inherited all the dark chocolate skin and lustrous black hair that is a feature of that area. In fact she was quite beautiful - fairly tall but slim almost to the point of being skinny, with enormous limpid dark eyes that sucked me in if I gazed at them too long. I quickly learnt that her name was Roxanne, and had to ask its origin - it seemed her father was once very struck by a movie star of that name (someone unknown to me). For some reason it amused me. Roxanne was about 24 and had a university degree but had had to settle for a less than well-paid job as a secretarial assistant - one might suspect colour prejudice, I suppose. We soon became firm if intermittent friends, meeting perhaps 2 or 3 times a week in the corridors to chat, and I admit I sometimes scheduled my wanderings in the hope of bumping into her. One day we happened to take the lift down at lunchtime, and I asked her what she was doing for lunch. We ended up in the sandwich bar over the road, talking mainly about our respective work. Roxanne was not particularly happy - her colleagues seemed to be as unfriendly to each other as they were to me - and she said she was looking forward to getting married next year and starting a family. I thought at first she meant a marriage had been arranged for her (which amused her immensely - a lovely tinkling laugh she had), but it was just that she and her fiancé, Rajiv, were having to save up to buy a house. I envied him his bride-to-be... Soon we were meeting for lunch on a regular basis two or three times a week, and I was getting sour comments from the more bigoted colleagues in my company. I confess that I tended to flaunt my friendship with her simply to annoy them, but I also confess that I was a little besotted with Roxanne. She was such an interesting companion that I was quite content (well, fairly content) to remain platonic and worship her undoubted physical charms in secret. But my mind did dwell more and more on the outlines of her silky brown skin and the shape of her young limbs. Roxanne wore a wide range of styles - sometimes Punjabi suits, sometimes floating saris, sometimes tight jeans and sweaters, sometimes thoroughly revealing miniskirts and jackets - and looked desirable in all of them. It wasn't that I was sexually frustrated - I had a number of girlfriends of varying degrees of casualness - but I often found that while in the throes of congress my fantasies had turned to Roxanne, her long legs wrapped around me, her soft voice moaning in orgasmic bliss... Gradually our conversations over sandwiches and coffee grew more intimate. She told me that she was a virgin - although her extended family were fairly westernised they drew the line at some things - and was looking forward to her approaching wedding night with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. Somehow she induced me to tell her some of my times with inexperienced women - I think she saw me as a teacher and guide. I was quite amazed by her frank and open manner towards matters sexual, believing (wrongly) that Asian women never discussed such things except with each other. If I had offered to give her a practical lesson I think she would have laughed delightedly and declined politely, but of course I couldn't risk offending her. In spite of our friendship I was surprised when she invited me to the wedding (especially as none of her workmates had been invited). I was one of the few non-Asian guests, and despite being completely unaware of all the conventions I enjoyed myself thoroughly. No-one seemed to object when I pigged half the delicious sweetmeats. At the end I noticed that the custom of kissing the bride did not seem to be on the agenda, much to my disappointment. I had been looking forward to it for weeks. I managed to get Roxanne on her own and told her. She laughed. 'Oh, we don't do that. But I'll make an exception for you,' and she bent forward and kissed me warmly (but dryly) on the lips. I blushed - me, blushing at a chaste kiss! But I knew what a significant act it was for her. People were approaching. 'Enjoy your honeymoon!' I said, winking at her, and she winked back. I spent the night moaning with frustration. Rajiv was a handsome and virile lad, but I would have been so much better for her... I met her for lunch soon after she was back at work. She looked even more beautiful than before - her skin positively glowed and there was a sparkle deep in her eyes, and she smiled constantly. Marriage obviously agreed with her. I noticed her wince briefly as she sat down, and lifted an eyebrow. She grinned at me. 'I'm a bit sore. Not used to all the attention! I'm getting used to it though. I'm not as sore as I was after the first week!' I blinked. 'Poor Roxanne! Did it spoil things?' 'Oh no, we just found other ways. I never realised you could have so much fun!' Stop it, Roxanne, I thought, you're tormenting me. 'He never leaves me alone. Not that I'm complaining, you understand. This is the longest I go without it, when I'm at work. I wish I could meet him at lunchtimes...' She was on a sexual high, and I felt happy for her, although not for me. At this and our other meetings, all she seemed to talk about was Rajiv and their non-stop sex. Frankly, it got a little boring. Then I noticed she began to look tired and wan, which I put down to lack of sleep, but one day she told me with a tired smile that she was pregnant and suffering morning sickness and all the other horrors too. She was overjoyed to be starting a family, but it had taken the sparkle out of her eyes. She quite often missed our lunchtimes because of sickness. I met her one day - her stomach was just starting to bulge under her sari - and she told me that she was starting maternity leave in a few days. I thought she looked drawn and depressed - not her usual self, and we exchanged phone numbers and I promised to keep in touch. In fact, I was a little worried about her. But what with various romantic crises and a long business trip, it was some few months before I got round to ringing her, feeling very guilty. We had never spoken on the phone and her voice sounded strange. She told me that the baby was due any day now and she was feeling enormous, tired, achy and fed up. She asked me if I wanted to come over for lunch to take her mind off it, and I accepted, first casually ascertaining whether her husband would be there. Although he was polite and friendly enough towards me, I think he always suspected me of having designs on his lovely wife - quite rightly too. She opened the door for me and had to stand back to let me enter. Roxanne was certainly huge: her slim arms and neck contrasted almost grotesquely with her swollen belly. Her breasts too, normally small and conical, were swollen and full. She wore a flimsy green silk wrap - it was a hot summer that year - and her big nipples and everted navel distended it plainly. Unlike some men, I have always found pregnant women attractive; I think it looks so feminine, although some sufferers might disagree. Anyway I hugged her as best I could and kissed her on the mouth. Was it my imagination, or did she linger with her lips on mine? She led me with a waddling gait into the dining room and we ate and chatted; she tried not to tell me all her discomforts but I could see that she had not much else to talk about. The baby was due, and she just wanted to get it over with. She winced as the baby kicked. 'May I... may I feel it?' I asked. She turned her big eyes on me in wonder. 'Yes... of course.' I knelt at her knees and put my hand on her taut bulge. Her skin was hot under the thin silk. I put both hands on her stomach, leaning against her thighs, conscious of the beginnings of an erection at the nearness of such a warm female body. 'He's gone quiet again,' she laughed. 'He likes your hands. Here, put your ear against me, see if you can hear his heartbeat.' I rested my head against her firm hot drum, hearing only the blood singing in my ear. I realised that I was stroking her stomach gently. I felt her hands rest on my head, holding me against her. We stayed like that, quietly; I could have stayed touching her all day. Her body heat soaked into me, filling my senses with erotic images of her naked brown flesh ... my face was only inches from the hot dark core of her womanhood... Eventually something poked me in the cheek. 'There - feel it?' she whispered. Indeed I could feel the baby moving inside her - it was quite magical and I felt a tingling at the back of my head. I stayed resting against her, absorbing her heat, her woman smell suffusing my nostrils, and she showed no signs of wanting me to move. 'Rajiv never does this,' she suddenly said in a small voice. 'He won't feel the baby. It's a shame...' 'It's wonderful,' I said, 'it's the most wonderful thing I've ever felt' (which was true, actually) 'and I think you're a wonderful person.' She lifted my head to look into her face. 'You're so sweet,' she said, and hugged me. I held her against me, her head against my chest, and after a while heard a sniff. I turned her head to me. A tear ran down her cheek, and she brushed it away. 'What's wrong?' 'Nothing,' she smiled wanly, 'I'm OK, honest. Hey hadn't you ought to be getting back to work?' The spell was broken and I felt I shouldn't quiz her. Maybe it was hormones or something... I promised to keep in touch, and she promised to tell me when the baby arrived. I rang her in a week because I hadn't heard from her. 'Oh Phil, I'm in a state. I'm a week overdue and they're going to take me in and induce it tomorrow... I don't want them to... I don't know what to do.' I said I'd be over - I didn't think to ask where her husband was, although I knew he now worked long hours in a garage. Roxanne was looking forlorn and hot, although she only had on a thin white sundress. I could see her small white panties plainly through it, pushed down below her enormous belly. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her huge black nipples thrust out towards me. I thought she looked sexier than ever. 'What am I to do? I don't want to be induced...' I knew she had a fear of drugs. 'Look, I know a really good way to start off labour. It doesn't always work but you've nothing to lose...' It was true, I'd been reading a book about it. 'What you have to do is, get Rajiv to make love to you as often as he can. Lots of semen.' Her mouth was open. 'Really?' 'Mmm. You see, semen contains chemicals called prostaglandins which dilate the cervix and help to start off labour. The drugs they use to induce you are similar. So you have to get as much semen into contact with the cervix as possible.' I felt faintly ridiculous telling her this like some TV doctor, and it was giving me an erection. But she was hanging on to my every word. 'Also, you should have lots of orgasms. They makes the uterus contract - I expect you've noticed - gets it used to the idea.' She gazed at me and two glistening tears welled up in her big dark eyes and ran down her face. I put my arms round her (from the side) and hugged her. 'Roxanne, what's the matter?' She gulped. 'It's... you see, Rajiv won't make love to me any more... ever since I got pregnant... he says it will harm the baby... and... he doesn't touch me any more either... he doesn't find me attractive like this...' I hugged her tightly, unable to think what to say. I realised that my erection was pressing firmly against her hip, but she didn't seem to have noticed. 'Oh my poor darling. You must be so...' 'I've been going up the wall. You wouldn't believe...' she hugged me even tighter, her body hot through my thin shirt. Suddenly I felt a light touch on the long bulge that filled my trousers. 'The semen...' she said in a casual voice, 'Does it have to be the husband's?' My mouth was dry. 'Umm, no ... it can be anyone's.' I swallowed. 'Anyone, that is, who's desperate to make love to you over and over again and spurt pints and pints of cum into you until he collapses with exhaustion...' Her hand squeezed my erection, and our mouths sought each other and writhed hotly together. I nearly came there and then. She broke our kiss and looked at her, tears glinting in her eyes. 'Oh, this is so wrong! We mustn't do this ... do you really want me? Or are you just being helpful?' I gestured downwards at my cock, now distending my trousers uncomfortably. ' I've wanted you ever since I first met you,' I said, 'You drive me wild, I've fantasised about you so many times. I want to cum in you whether it would help or not.' She rested her hands on my chest. 'I think about you too. After... after we stopped having sex, I thought about you a lot. Such thoughts...' We hugged again and I massaged her back and firm ass. 'No time to waste, Roxanne. You're doing this for the baby, not for yourself.' I pulled the thin dress off over her head and she didn't resist. I knelt before her and slipped her tiny panties off, hardly believing that my dreams were coming true. She stood before me naked and brown, quite unashamed. Her belly was huge and taut, her breasts full, her enormous black nipples like cones of jet. I stripped hurriedly and she watched me closely, smiling when she saw my swollen cock revealed in all its glory. 'Plenty of spunk in there,' I said, 'I won't let you down. Now, the best position is on all fours. We need to get really deep penetration. Here, get yourself comfortable.' She arranged herself on the settee, her knees on the edge, her belly supported on a cushion, her head pillowed on her arms. Her ass thrust gloriously into the air in front of me, her thighs making a triangle, her lovely wavy coal-black lips open in front of me revealing her deep pink glistening tunnel. Her anus was a black star. It was so erotic that I nearly spurted my load over her ass and back - but that would have defeated the object. Roxanne giggled. 'This is really weird - I can't believe we're doing this!' 'Think of it as medical treatment,' I said, stroking her lips with my fingers, spreading her thick juices over their satiny folds. She moaned softly. 'Oh, put it in me! I feel so horny now!' I slipped my swollen glans into her tunnel and pushed gently. The feeling of her hot membranes sliding along my shaft was so mind-blowing that I cried out. I held her hips as I bottomed out in her, my balls resting against her mons. 'Are you sure it won't hurt the baby?' she said breathlessly. 'No, he's quite safe,' I said, finding it hard to focus my mind on the words. 'I'm going over the top of him. Anyway, he's snug in a nice tough womb. Oh God, Roxanne, you have a wonderful cunt!' I thrust in her carefully, going cross-eyed with the ecstasy of her muscular and sadly-underused cunt gripping me. She grunted deep in her throat each time I went fully home, driving her ass back at me to get that extra half-inch inside. I knew I would cum very soon, and that it would be only the first of several. 'I'm going to spurt, Roxanne,' I gasped, 'I can't hold back! I'll fill you up...' Despite my wish to watch her sinuous back as I emptied my balls inside her, I closed my eyes in bliss as the long strings of fire blasted from me. She clasped herself around me as she felt the first splash hit her cunt walls. I continued to spurt for minutes, so it seemed, as if my balls were trying to force themselves up my cock. I withdrew, still swollen, and kissed each of her taut buttocks. Her cunt gaped like a deep pink rose. She was breathing deeply. 'Turn over, my love,' I said, 'It's your turn to come now.' She lay on her back, her eyes smoky, and spread her thighs for me willingly. I knelt between them and lowered my face to her black bush. Never in all the time I had known her had I dared to hope that one day I might do this. I pushed a couple of cushions under her ass to lift her hips high, and took her neat clit in my lips. She moaned. 'I'm going to make you come, Roxanne,' I whispered. 'Again and again. You need to... just think of all that sperm deep in your cunt.' I was licking her hardening clit between words. 'Do you know that the cervix actually sucks up the sperm when you come? It dips into the pool of sperm and sucks it up...' She was writhing under my tongue now, throwing her head from side to side. I nibbled her hard nub and she cried out and began to jerk, her thighs clamping the sides of my head. 'That's it, my love... come for me... feel your womb getting hard... contracting... rehearsing for the birth... yes, come another time...' (still licking and sucking her lengthening clit) '... let it happen... don't try to fight it... shout as loud as you want... let your juices flow... that's it, hold my head... put it where you want it... make me touch you... your clit... exactly how you want... so you come again... just keep coming... as long as you want...' I don't know if there's a record for multiple or constant orgasm, but Roxanne must have broken it that afternoon. My tongue was sore and aching by the time she pushed me off and lay there gasping. It was minutes before she got her breath enough to speak. 'Oh Phil, that was incredible! How did you... oh my, I'm still throbbing inside... my bulge is so hard... like rock... ' 'Don't try to sit up.' I said, 'You need to keep all that cum inside. Anyway, I've ready to give you some more.' Roxanne let out a cry of either shock or joy, I wasn't sure which. But then she scrambled into the doggy position and thrust her ass at me eagerly. I set to with a will to give her another injection of magical fluid... We spent all afternoon in one of those two positions - either me pumping into her from behind, or lying between her spread thighs with my tongue teasing her clit. I managed in all four mighty ejaculations, and we did it without her spilling more than a drop. By the fourth time, she was awash with my sperm and I could feel it sloshing around and bathing my shaft silkily as I ploughed her. But her vaginal muscles were strong enough to keep it all in, except while she came, and then I had to use my fingers to stop her squirting it out onto my chin. Once, I began to massage her lovely anus with my thumbs, and she writhed and moaned suddenly. 'Nice?' I asked. 'Oh yes... I wish we could do other things too...' 'One day...' Another time, while she was resting after another tremendous multiple orgasm, and I was gathering strength for my next, she said, 'I wish I could suck you off too... I'd love to feel you spurting in my mouth... does that work too?' 'I'm afraid not... it has to be in your cunt.' 'What a shame... I love it when I get a mouth full of cum... or when it spurts all over my breasts... don't you think the contrast of white cum on dark skin is just so erotic?' I groaned. The things I could have done with this girl... 'Turn over,' I said roughly, 'You've made me ready to fuck you again.' She giggled, 'I hoped I would.' *** I left her, naked and sleepy, her ass propped up in the air, still holding my considerable volume of cum inside her. Maybe she would clean up before her husband got home... The next morning I got a phone call from her just as I was leaving for work. 'Hi, it worked!' It was Roxanne and she was almost weeping with joy. She'd gone into labour spontaneously at about 4 o'clock in the morning, and the baby - a fine healthy boy - had been born with minimal fuss at 6:30. She was tired but over the moon. I promised to visit her later that day, and congratulated myself on a good deed well done. I took her flowers and chocolates. She was alone except for the baby asleep in a cot by her side, sitting up in bed looking radiant, as new mothers do. 'Oh how can I ever thank you?' she said, her eyes almost worshipping. 'You were so wonderful... and he's such a wonderful baby too...' I had been spending quite a bit of time, while resting from my labours of the day before, imagining how I might continue to enjoy Roxanne in all the different ways she seemed to be partial to. If Rajiv was working a lot... and the baby slept a lot... Yes, there were many ways in which she could show her appreciation... But her next words dashed my hopes. 'And Rajiv has been wonderful too... do you know he asked to be there at the birth. I never thought he would. And he keeps telling me how sexy I am, and how hard he is for me, and how he wants to fuck me senseless! It's just like our honeymoon!' I tried to look pleased for her. 'You know, almost before the baby was out, he asked the midwife how soon we could make love again. And she said,' Roxanne spluttered with laughter, 'she said, ''I'd wait till the afterbirth is out, my dear!''.' | ||
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