Pretty Sure I Gave My Friend's Wife The Baby She Always Wanted
I'm a 42 year old bachelor. I've got nothing against marriage and family, I'm just used to the single life and scared of commitment. Yes, I said it.
I've been good friends with Matt since we were kids. We'd both go out to the bars chasing tail when we were younger. About ten years ago, he met and married a woman named Grace. Grace was and is extremely shy. She was a little plain, but not ugly by any means. In my opinion, her main problem was she didn't dress to her advantage. She was a good woman, too good for Matt, or me for that matter. Matt said she was still a virgin when they married, and I can believe it.
It was none of my business, but I never liked the way Matt treated her from the get-go. He always expected her to cater to him and focus on his childish problems (he's an amateur cyclist, and he's always worrying about his bicycles). He never seemed to think she had any problems of her own, and he treated her more like his therapist than his wife. She has a good job and is very well off from family money. After a few years of marriage, he quit his job and let her support him. She seemed fine with that.
One time I was at their house visting and Matt was on the computer. All of a sudden, he starts chatting (voice chat, visual wasn't working) with an old girlfriend. Right in front of Grace and me. They talked about old times and were pretty explicit. Grace had tears in her eyes, but she didn't say anything. When Matt left the room I said, "Why do you put up with that?" She said he didn't mean anything by it. I walked over and dried her eyes and kissed her cheek.
Not long into their marriage Grace got pregnant and miscarried. Grace was devastated, but Matt didn't seem to care much. I was out of the country at the time, and I comforted Grace over the phone. I told her I'd visit when I got back to the states.
I kept my word. I pulled up in their driveway and Grace let me in. She said Matt was gone for the afternoon, out at a local cycle race. We chit-chatted about my trip and different things. She seemed in an ok mood, so I didn't bring up the miscarriage and she didn't either. I flirted with her and she smiled shyly and her face turned red. I knew, I just knew she wouldn't say no. She got up to get me a drink. As she was walking back, I took the drink out of her hand, and sort of trapped her gently against the wall. I kissed her and she didn't resist. I started taking off her blouse. She didn't respond, but she didn't resist. I kept going, and when she was almost naked, she started helping me get my clothes off. I carried her into a bedroom and started kissing her breasts and working my way down. She kept staring at the ceiling, and didn't respond until I started tonguing her pussy.Then it was like some long, built-up pressure was released (she later told me that nobody, including Matt, had never gone down on her before). She started grunting, moaning and gasping. She pressed my head into her pussy, and I tried my best to keep a rhythm going. Finally, when I knew she was ready, I took her swollen clit between my lips and sucked hard. She just about tore my hair out of my head. If the house hadn't been so isolated, I'd have been worried that the neighbors would hear her yells. It was like she was a completely different woman. I pulled my head away and saw that her pussy was gaping, and I mean gaping wide.
I got on top and slipped right in. It didn't take her long to respond. She started wiggling and writhing like a snake under me. She nearly bucked me off a time or two. She gripped my back and ass so tight I knew I'd have deep scratches later, and I did. My back burned for a couple days whenever I'd sweat. When I thought she was satisfied, I came hard and we just lay there for a while catching our breath.
We lay together and talked, and she opened up about a lot of things, about how she couldn't help loving Matt, plus she'd never divorce him anyway because of her religion. But she admitted it bothered her that he was so self centered and that the miscarriage didn't seem to bother him. I said that Matt got two girls pregnant when he was young, and they both miscarried, so maybe he was used to it [that was true about the miscarriages]. I said, "Who knows if he's even able to father a baby." Then the talk got a little lighter, and before we knew it we were ready for round two. Round two was a little bit less frenzied, and while we were making love, I whispered in her ear, "Grace, you want a baby more than anything. Don't deny it. You know me, Grace. You'll never have to worry about me interfering, and no one will ever know. You'll regret it forever if you wait too long." She groaned and thrust her pelvis upward, but didn't say anything. After round two it was getting late, and I figured I'd better go in case Matt got home early. Grace never mentioned what I whispered in her ear.
A few weeks later she called and wanted to me to come over. She mentioned in passing that Matt was gone, so I figured she'd thought about my offer. The same thing happened, she was basically passive until I got her clothes off. She started calling me regularly, about the same time every month, presumably when she was ovulating. Sometimes she'd come to my place if Matt wasn't going to be out long. The sex was always hot, but otherwise, she remained the same old shy, prim and proper Grace.
After about five months, Grace stopped calling me to meet. Matt told me that Grace was pregnant again. He seemed neither happy nor sad about it. Grace carried to term and gave birth to a healthy, beautiful little girl. I can't say Matt is the most affectionate of fathers, but I'm not far away and I make sure she's treated well. Grace is a wonderful, loving mother, and she's happier than she's ever been. They never had any more children. Even after all these years, Matt seems clueless about it, but that's not surprising. He's too self centered to be anything but clueless. I can't be 100% certain their daughter is mine, but I'll say this. She's 8 years old now, and she looks exactly, I mean like an identical twin to a picture of my late mother when she was the same age.
