My Body My Choice, To Have Babies , That Was Our Choice

I am going to cut to the chase. I grew up in a place and time where girls had one mission in life, babies, more babies and more babies. I came from a house of nine kids, my parents both came from homes with a dozen kids. Babies is all anyone talked about. By the time we were seven we knew everything about the birds and the bees and just how babies got started and how babies grew inside of you and how babies came out of you. It was all worth it, having babies.

Of course having babies meant marriage and keeping the pot hot and the bathrooms clean. We learned that too. By the time we were 14 we could run a house and keep a man happy, in bed and at the dining table. Everyone around me was the same. We compared boobs and hips and tits and ass and of course the pathway to a man's heart. I was no different than my sisters, cousins, mother, and aunts. French Canadians we were all small, small tits, small hips, but very pronounced Venus mounds, almost popping out, with high on the hips genital clefts. We were proud of our forms, and the men in our community liked us small and petite with tiny tits and vaginas that could take a dick and push babies out into the world.

One more thing, I was always hot, aroused, my clitoris rubbed against my underwear and my vagina was always wet. I wanted to get fucked, from my earliest memories. Showing my inner thighs, my heavy lips, my tiny tits and small ass made me hotter, and the boys and men liked it. I heard all about it from my older sisters and cousins, and my mother and aunts were not shy about telling us girls how much we were going to enjoy it. But get married first. Even if you are fifteen, get married, don't ever find yourself in the situation where another man got to you first. The prize is for your husband (or your older brother or cousin if they kept their mouth shut).

My moment of glory came when I was fourteen and my first dick was my older cousin's dick and it was glorious. Forced down by his weight, held so I couldn't move, his dick forced into my already very wet vagina, pinching the nipples on my tits, he enjoyed himself completely, leaving me ravished, wet and full of cum as he pulled his dick out and showed it to me. All was well, except for the fact that I was in season and I had to get married. Babies started popping out, I lived the life I was born to, big family, sisters, brothers, cousins, mothers, father, grandfathers and grandmothers, and aunts and uncles, all making noises and congratulating me on my prowess. I loved every baby I put out and my husband cousin was a happy papa, a testament to his prowess, he just had to look at me and I was pregnant.

This is how we grew up, this is how we had big families, this is how we lived. French Canadian Catholics with numerous kids. Now my granddaughters refuse to get pregnant, talk about getting their tubes tied as soon as they are old enough and can find a doctor to do it. The third generation of my family is lost, we have one baby, and that baby was an 'accident' and no father around. I really wish that we could institute marriage by decree, marry them off at fifteen, first test is bringing a baby home followed by one every year. These young women don't know what they are missing, what pleasures they are passing up, having a man deliver his semen to you for the intention of getting you pregnant is a higher high than any high they can imagine.

We were young, we fucked too, just kept it quiet. We practiced sucking on our brothers and cousins, they practiced fucking on their sisters and cousins. You have to learn to enjoy your body and to accept that your body is for one purpose only, if not why are you here?