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My Family
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Straight Male / 58
My Cousin's Wife And The Strange Request.
In 1989 I had probably the strangest conversation in my life. I had a first cousin who was the spitting image of me; we had often been mistaken for brothers. His wife came to my workplace and asked for a confidential chat.
She was tearful as she told me that my cousin and she had been trying for a family for over five years. She disclosed that my cousin, who at the time was ex-military and a bit of a He-Man character, had a low sperm count, and the quality wasn’t good. There was, though, a chance she could get pregnant; but not great.
My cousin and she had spoken about adopting a baby or using a sperm donor. However, his male ego would not allow it. She then asked if I would donate sperm to get her pregnant. I told her I wouldn’t have sex with her, as I loved my cousin. She laughed and said that’s not what she had in mind. I would give her the sperm, and she would do the rest. I asked if my cousin knew about this, and she said, “Sort of” I asked what she meant, and apparently, he had agreed but didn’t want to know the details. It made sense to ask me as there was a family resemblance between us, and at least the baby would be related to her husband. I did consider telling my wife, but I knew she would see it as a threat.
Over the next two months, at fertile times, I would meet at her house, jack off into a syringe and then give it to her and leave. Over the sessions, we became quite close. At the time, she worked in the bank on the counter and was attractive. I felt odd knowing she would be sitting on that bank till in the afternoon, in her uniform, with my spunk in her pussy. In month three, she announces she is pregnant. We hugged and, yes, kissed. Nine months later, her daughter was born. Everybody rejoiced, and seeing my cousin and her so happy was great.
Three years later, the little girl went to nursery, and my cousin’s wife again asked the same strange question. I told her I’d need to think about it, which shocked her. I told her that although I was overjoyed by her happiness, the last ‘situation’ had taken an emotional toll on me. I had three boys and had always wanted a daughter. In the end, I agreed. I had a different job then and could meet her whenever she was free.
The difference between the first and second time, though was there was a connection between us. It was 99.9% probable I was the father of her child, and it birthed a special bond that transcended our previous relationship. I think it was the third day of her fertile time that I asked if I could be part of the insemination, to watch her as she put the baby juice into herself. Did I want to see her pussy, I think yes, I did fantasies about it. She went quiet but agreed. I did my thing and then went into the front room to give her the syringe. She looked sheepish as she hitched her bank uniform skirt up; she had already taken her tights and knickers off. Nestled between her fleshy thighs was a very cute hairy pussy; I was instantly erect again. I watched as she inserted the syringe and emptied the contents slowly into herself. I’m no expert with women, but I knew she was aroused, that magical red flush on her cheeks and chest.
I’m ashamed to say things went a lot further the next day. Boundaries had been removed, and there was that special connection between us. When I arrived, she hitched her skirt up in the front room and removed her underwear. There was no syringe on the table. I got the message, went over and slowly pushed myself into her. It was wrong but fantastic; the feel of fresh pussy around my cock was delicious. There was regret afterwards from both of us. I loved my cousin, and I’d betrayed him. For the rest of the time, we reverted to our original process; nothing was said about our one indiscretion.
It took five months this time. However, it worked, and she had another daughter born in 1994. I’m telling this story now because my daughter got married last year. Sadly, my cousin passed in 2015, and I got to walk this image of her mother down the aisle, something I will never do with my sons. There were only two people who knew how proud I was that day.
She was tearful as she told me that my cousin and she had been trying for a family for over five years. She disclosed that my cousin, who at the time was ex-military and a bit of a He-Man character, had a low sperm count, and the quality wasn’t good. There was, though, a chance she could get pregnant; but not great.
My cousin and she had spoken about adopting a baby or using a sperm donor. However, his male ego would not allow it. She then asked if I would donate sperm to get her pregnant. I told her I wouldn’t have sex with her, as I loved my cousin. She laughed and said that’s not what she had in mind. I would give her the sperm, and she would do the rest. I asked if my cousin knew about this, and she said, “Sort of” I asked what she meant, and apparently, he had agreed but didn’t want to know the details. It made sense to ask me as there was a family resemblance between us, and at least the baby would be related to her husband. I did consider telling my wife, but I knew she would see it as a threat.
Over the next two months, at fertile times, I would meet at her house, jack off into a syringe and then give it to her and leave. Over the sessions, we became quite close. At the time, she worked in the bank on the counter and was attractive. I felt odd knowing she would be sitting on that bank till in the afternoon, in her uniform, with my spunk in her pussy. In month three, she announces she is pregnant. We hugged and, yes, kissed. Nine months later, her daughter was born. Everybody rejoiced, and seeing my cousin and her so happy was great.
Three years later, the little girl went to nursery, and my cousin’s wife again asked the same strange question. I told her I’d need to think about it, which shocked her. I told her that although I was overjoyed by her happiness, the last ‘situation’ had taken an emotional toll on me. I had three boys and had always wanted a daughter. In the end, I agreed. I had a different job then and could meet her whenever she was free.
The difference between the first and second time, though was there was a connection between us. It was 99.9% probable I was the father of her child, and it birthed a special bond that transcended our previous relationship. I think it was the third day of her fertile time that I asked if I could be part of the insemination, to watch her as she put the baby juice into herself. Did I want to see her pussy, I think yes, I did fantasies about it. She went quiet but agreed. I did my thing and then went into the front room to give her the syringe. She looked sheepish as she hitched her bank uniform skirt up; she had already taken her tights and knickers off. Nestled between her fleshy thighs was a very cute hairy pussy; I was instantly erect again. I watched as she inserted the syringe and emptied the contents slowly into herself. I’m no expert with women, but I knew she was aroused, that magical red flush on her cheeks and chest.
I’m ashamed to say things went a lot further the next day. Boundaries had been removed, and there was that special connection between us. When I arrived, she hitched her skirt up in the front room and removed her underwear. There was no syringe on the table. I got the message, went over and slowly pushed myself into her. It was wrong but fantastic; the feel of fresh pussy around my cock was delicious. There was regret afterwards from both of us. I loved my cousin, and I’d betrayed him. For the rest of the time, we reverted to our original process; nothing was said about our one indiscretion.
It took five months this time. However, it worked, and she had another daughter born in 1994. I’m telling this story now because my daughter got married last year. Sadly, my cousin passed in 2015, and I got to walk this image of her mother down the aisle, something I will never do with my sons. There were only two people who knew how proud I was that day.
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