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Surrogate 11
🕑 Added 2024-03-03 15:37:14 +0000 UTCChapter Eleven:
Michael and Jean fucked late into the night again. They fucked while their food got cold, ate afterward, and fucked again until they fell asleep. They kept Brad awake with their sex, and he listened with little argument. At this point, he was too broken to say much of anything in defense of himself. He snuck into the room to change in the morning and found Michael at rest on his back with Jean asleep beside him. She had passed out with her face down and her ass in the air. Her thighs were flaky with the excess pleasure that had gathered there.
The bedroom reeked of sex and sweat. Brad changed quickly and left, and Jean woke up as he closed the door behind him. She roused slowly and stretched her stiff limbs. The smell of sex was all around her, and it was the worst on the sheets. Jean told herself that she would have to ask Brad to wash the sheets for her the next time she saw him. It was wrong, but any guilt she felt was slowly being eroded by each orgasm Michael gave her.
She smacked her lips and wiped her chin as she stirred. Her body had small bruises all over from where Michael grabbed her. He was not gentle with her, and that is what she liked about him. She made a point of kissing his big belly and his limp cock before climbing out of bed. He reeked, but she associated his stench with good sex and took pleasure in it. In the bathroom, she drew a hot shower and stepped inside.
Her muscles ached, but the hot water soothed her bones as the steam fogged the bathroom mirror. She didn’t think that Michael knew how to be gentle, but he made it work for him. The sex was good, though, the best she ever had, but it was an effort. She closed her eyes and soaped her hair and was just rinsing off when the curtain slid open. She smiled as Michael’s big body joined her in the shower. His fat belly buffeted her into the shower wall. The space was too small for them, but they would enjoy it anyway.
“Oh,” she cooed as his fat belly pressed against her wet back. She purred as his flabby arms slipped around her and his big hands found her breasts. He grabbed her roughly as the stink of their sex followed him into the shower. His thick cock brushed her bubbly bottom and wedged up against her ass cheeks. She squealed with delight and looked back at him over her shoulder once she opened her eyes. “Michael! I have to work today! I can’t be late again!”
“Not my problem,” he growled, and he released one of her tits to slap her ass before he bent her forward. She moved as he moved her, and she placed her hands against the wet walls of the shower as he held her in place. She was more like a toy for his pleasure than a person at this point, and she had no thoughts of resistance left in her. Her reluctance wilted like a flower in the face of the pleasure he promised her. She knew what he could do to her, and she saw no reason to keep him from doing it.
Michael hefted his thick cock up and slapped it between her parted thighs until he was hard. Jean watched him swell and marveled at his growth. He was large when he was limp, but he was massive when erect, and he always seemed able to be erect. Even with balls as big as his, she could hardly wrap her mind around his stamina. She had always been told that fat men couldn’t get as hard as fit men, but Michael proved that wrong. The biology behind him seemed just as impossible as his dimensions, but probability faded out of view as he entered her. The details didn’t matter as she came on his rigidity.
Michael entered her with unfamiliar ease and drove to his root with one smooth, deep stroke. His pubic hair bristled against her as her bottom flattened against him, and she could feel the wet, heavy wet of his hairy belly against her back as she hung from the slick shower walls. Michael took hold of her with one hand on her tit and the other in her wet hair, and he knotted her hair around his fist and moved her. Each thrust slapped her face against the wall, and it felt to Jean like the world was shifting beneath her. He rammed her, and her entire body quivered from the force of each forward stroke.
“Oh, fuck, Michael! Fuck!” Jean groaned, and her hands slipped as she braced against the wall to meet his thrusts. She could hardly breathe as each thrust knocked the air from her lungs. Michael moved his arm again and took hold of her with both hands around her midsection, and he lifted her and held her in his big, fat arms as he loomed over her as he stroked himself with her body. The water splattered around her but did not reach her as he panted into her ear. His rancid breath filled her nostrils with each deep breath she took.
“Oh, Michael,” she moaned, and she cupped his fat face and pulled him into a kiss. She drank his dirty mouth as he drove his thick tongue against her teeth. It was wrong. All of it was wrong, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want it to be right anymore, and she didn’t want to be loved. He had broken her, and his heavy balls careening into her with punching force meant more to her than the ring Brad gave her or the vows she had made.
Jean’s eyes rolled back as her orgasms became endless and infinite. Each of them fed off of the one before and bled into the one that came after. Lips parted, she fell forward and whined in thoughtless rapture. She drooled, and she begged. This was far beyond breeding now, and they both knew it. Jean also knew that it wasn’t love. Michael did not love her, and he never would. Despite that, Jean would remain completely committed to him. Thoughts of Brad faded from her save for the primal joy of knowing that she had overcome him and found true, honest happiness. Every part of her was taken up by Michael now, and nothing else really mattered to her anymore.
She tightened around Michael. Her pussy was warm, wet and yielding. It felt to him like she was sucking him in and urging him deeper. At this point, she was pregnant. Even without a test, Michael could tell, but now her body was reshaped for him. She needed him, and Michael was uniquely gifted to give her what she needed. If he stopped now, Jean would return to normal over time. She might even enjoy Brad again in the very distant future, but she would always know what Michael had done to her. Even after recovery, she would never be able to satisfy herself with another man. Mentally, she belonged to Michael.
He held her tight by the hips and moved her. He stroked himself with her body and watched her face contort with thoughtless, primal pleasure. It was his favorite part of breaking a woman, and Jean’s stupid expressions of joy, love and pleasure were particularly good. Michael had fucked and impregnated countless women before her, but he was big, ugly and brutish. He had also spent a good chunk of his life alone. When rumors of his dick spread, Michael capitalized on them. Then rumors of his virility followed, and Michael took them as his mantra and chose to embody raw, chaotic sex.
Michael was not a disciplined man. He would never be fit or handsome. The truth was that he would always be a fat, repugnant slob, but he would also always be good at one very important thing: fucking. He knew that, and he made the effort to perfect his art on slovenly women so that he could someday impress a woman of quality later in life. Jean was that woman of quality. She was the most beautiful woman he had fucked so far, and she was proof to him of his persistence and skill.
Brad was better looking than Michael, and though Michael did not know the other man well, he could tell how kind he was. That Brad could never compete against Michael when it came to fucking was proof of the importance of fucking. Michael was better endowed and more skilled, and he had successfully fucked Brad’s wife straight out of their marriage. His success made him bold, and it made him arrogant. He swatted Jean’s ass, and he listened to her mewls of pleasure and watched her simple-minded delight as he railed her.
Then, Michael fucked her harder. He took her by the hair, and he listened to her whine as he threw himself into her. She stared up at him, and she caressed him, and she whispered his name. “Mike…” She held the hand he put in her hair but did nothing to remove or resist him. The water had already cooled around them but neither noticed or cared. Michael was relentless, and Jean was in love.
“I’m about to finish,” Michael growled, and Jean whined with pleasure as he swelled inside of her. She braced against the wall and slapped her fat, shaking bottom back against him, and she smiled at him over her shoulder in simple-minded, animal adoration. Every thought of affection meant for Brad was gone now. She felt Michael thicken inside of her, and she knew that his relentless hammering against her cervix had changed her. The sting of his heavy, hairy ball sack at it pummeled her left her legs weak, and she growled in satisfaction as she begged him.
“Do it! Seed me, Michael! Seed your horny, married slut!”
“Nah,” Michael laughed. Jean had lost all respect for her husband and didn’t care anymore if he heard, and Michael was satisfied with the transformation he had forced onto her and withdrew to stroke himself to completion across her back. Her flesh was red and sensitive from the force and weight of his thrusts, but Michael soon left it white with his cum. Jean was disappointed to be left empty, but she was not unwilling to be marked by him. She watched him over her shoulder and marveled at the sight of his enormous, slimy dick pulsing and firing. It was the most impressive display of virility she had ever seen and made her even more certain of her own pregnancy, and that only made her attraction to Michael more intense.
Michael pulled her around by her hair and forced his way into her mouth. Jean took him with a purr and knelt at his feet as she slurped him. She could taste herself on him, and she loved the symphony of flavor her juices formed with his slimy dick. This was where she belonged, she realized. She no longer cared about her marriage, her career, or starting a family. His semen gathered and clogged the drain as it ran down her back, and all Jean could think about was whether or not she could slurp it up before it thinned and washed away.
Michael stood there blocking the cold water while Jean cleaned him, and then he stepped out of the shower without warning once he was done. His dick fell out of her mouth, and she was caught in the face by a surprise chill as he dried and left her alone.
Jean did not try to drink up his semen. Instead, she made a half-hearted attempt at washing herself before joining him. Michael stayed and teased her as she dressed. He slipped fingers into her and spanked and smacked her wherever he pleased while she giggled and squealed in delight. They held hands on their way out, and they found Brad still at home, staring at them from the couch with bags under his eyes as they went.
