My girlfriend is pregnant by and another man. Truth be told, she is my fiancee. One might think that this is upsetting, but, it's not...at least not now. I've grown very used to my life over the last 7 months. It is frustrating at times, I get angry at times, but, mostly, I thoroughly enjoy it. I love Amanda, I really do. I've even come to like Justin, the father of her child (to be born in just about 4 months) and her current lover. It's not a cuckold story in the sense of most of the stories that I've read. There was no agreement between Mandy and I that she be allowed to fool around (at least not in the beginning). She cheated on me only after she'd moved in and she did it without my permission. Even after that, and the rest of what follows, I still decided to marry her. We'll be getting married in about a month. I'll raise her child and take care of Amanda and, by extension, Justin, and give her (and, I guess, Justin) everything her heart desires. I'm not really sure how to start this, so, I guess I'll just start at the beginning.
I'm 42 years old. I am a lawyer. Mandy (what I call Amanda, sometimes) is 24. Huge age difference between us, I know. There is more than just an age difference-I would say there is also a cultural difference. We are from 2 different eras and times. I've never been married, but, have had many girlfriends and women in my life. I was always the dominant one. I was almost always the one that ended prior relationships. Women were never a problem with me. Neither was sex. I'm quite capable at sex. I'm fairly well endowed. Near my office is a chain style restaurant. I used to stop there once or twice a week to pick up carry out lunches or dinners. Burgers, ribs, that kind of thing. Sometimes, I'd eat in the restaurant. Amanda was a waitress there. She's positively beautiful. She weighed (now she's pregnant and showing) about 120 pounds, is 5' 7" tall, with auburn/brown hair. She has beautiful eyes and full lips that I can only describe as pouty. She is gorgeous and I was instantly smitten with her. She was a bit of a scatterbrain, which I found (and find) endearing and cute.
After a couple months of talking during meals or take out, depending on the day, one day, she seemed incredibly distracted and sad. During our talk that day, she told me that she had just broken up with her boyfriend (Justin). His name was on the apartment lease and he had told her to get all her stuff out and leave. She said that her car was filled with her belongings. She didn't know what she was going to do as she had very few friends here in town. She had moved here 2 years ago to complete college. She'd almost instantly hooked up with Justin and moved in with him shortly after. She said she had enough to stay at a hotel for a few nights but after that wasn't sure what to do. I really didn't know what to say or tell her but I asked if there was anything I could do to help. She politely declined but something made me push the subject. I told her to save her money for another apartment, that she could stay in a guest room at my house for a couple nights until things settled with Justin or until she could get another place to live. She declined again, but, hesitated. I told her that I was a gentleman and had no designs on trying to seduce her or do anything improper. I lived in a decent sized house that I rarely spent time in and told her that if she used a guest room and the 2nd bathroom, it would be just like staying in a hotel. She again declined but something made me push the idea. I told her to at least come over after work and see my house and see what I was talking about. She finally said that she would stop over for a drink, if that was OK. I asked what she liked to drink and told her that I would make sure it was there for her.
About 3 hours later, much to my surprise, she rang the bell to my front door. She came in and, over the course of the next few hours, she poured her heart out to me. She was sad and mad at Justin. Their relationship had been a tempestuous one. Truthfully, while I did intend to be a gentleman, I couldn't help but be completely turned on by her-I wanted to fuck her and wanted it badly. What made things worse was the socks she wore. Let me explain, I love legs and love feet. She wore her work skirt and ankle socks (she had her shoes off). She had gorgeous legs to go with her gorgeous body. As we talked in the TV room, she stretched her legs out on the couch so that her socked feet were near me. It was almost more than I could bear. We drank and talked and it was very late. I told her it was too late to go home and she agreed. I showed her to one of the guest rooms and we went and unloaded most of her things from her car.
The next few days sort of went by in a blur. We laughed and talked and had a good time. You could tell we were getting closer and closer. One night, while we talked on the couch, she had her legs stretched out and I started to gently massage her feet. It was after she had worked a shift so she told me that it felt great. I, of course, was stiff as a board and wanted to have sex but we didn't-not that night, anyway. The next night, though, after a few drinks, the same scene repeated itself. This time, however, I moved my hands further up her legs, until, eventually, they were underneath her skirt. She was a little ***** and didn't stop me. I started to rub her pussy through her underwear and she started to gently moan (little cries) and closed her eyes. Every time I tried to move to kiss her lips, though, she turned away until finally she said that she wasn't ready to have sex with another man. What she really meant was that we weren't going to have intercourse because when I stopped my hands, she grabbed them and put them right back on her pussy. When I moved in to orally please her, she didn't stop me. I found out that night that Amanda was a moaner-a very loud moaner. I brought her to orgasm and she really cried out. When I had finished, she took her feet and began rubbing my cock through my pants. I was so horny and she knew it. Eventually, she rubbed faster and faster and told me to unzip my pants. She rubbed her feet onto my dick (I still had my pants on but pulled down and underwear on). Eventually, I came, right in my underwear. I couldn't believe it-I felt like a high school kid or something.
Since that night, she's never left my house. To this day, I have not had intercourse with her. She has given me hand jobs, foot jobs, even a couple of times, she's given me a half assed blow job (I'll have to explain what I mean later), but, we still have not had sex. I have pleased her with my mouth almost everyday. I've brought her to climax countless times after she has had sex with Justin. Did I mention that she's pregnant and I'm marrying her? Yeah, I did.
About an hour ago, she came into my room and I orally made her climax. Justin's cum still dripped from her and was on her legs and pussy. Her pregnant belly right above my head-Justin's baby....soon to be my responsibility. My engagement ring on her finger. When I'd finished, she spent about 2 minutes stroking me until I came and then went back to her room to sleep with Justin. He doesn't live with us but he's here an awful lot. Yet, none of this angers me, anymore. She's in control of my emotions, my cock and my life. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
I'm 42 years old. I am a lawyer. Mandy (what I call Amanda, sometimes) is 24. Huge age difference between us, I know. There is more than just an age difference-I would say there is also a cultural difference. We are from 2 different eras and times. I've never been married, but, have had many girlfriends and women in my life. I was always the dominant one. I was almost always the one that ended prior relationships. Women were never a problem with me. Neither was sex. I'm quite capable at sex. I'm fairly well endowed. Near my office is a chain style restaurant. I used to stop there once or twice a week to pick up carry out lunches or dinners. Burgers, ribs, that kind of thing. Sometimes, I'd eat in the restaurant. Amanda was a waitress there. She's positively beautiful. She weighed (now she's pregnant and showing) about 120 pounds, is 5' 7" tall, with auburn/brown hair. She has beautiful eyes and full lips that I can only describe as pouty. She is gorgeous and I was instantly smitten with her. She was a bit of a scatterbrain, which I found (and find) endearing and cute.
After a couple months of talking during meals or take out, depending on the day, one day, she seemed incredibly distracted and sad. During our talk that day, she told me that she had just broken up with her boyfriend (Justin). His name was on the apartment lease and he had told her to get all her stuff out and leave. She said that her car was filled with her belongings. She didn't know what she was going to do as she had very few friends here in town. She had moved here 2 years ago to complete college. She'd almost instantly hooked up with Justin and moved in with him shortly after. She said she had enough to stay at a hotel for a few nights but after that wasn't sure what to do. I really didn't know what to say or tell her but I asked if there was anything I could do to help. She politely declined but something made me push the subject. I told her to save her money for another apartment, that she could stay in a guest room at my house for a couple nights until things settled with Justin or until she could get another place to live. She declined again, but, hesitated. I told her that I was a gentleman and had no designs on trying to seduce her or do anything improper. I lived in a decent sized house that I rarely spent time in and told her that if she used a guest room and the 2nd bathroom, it would be just like staying in a hotel. She again declined but something made me push the idea. I told her to at least come over after work and see my house and see what I was talking about. She finally said that she would stop over for a drink, if that was OK. I asked what she liked to drink and told her that I would make sure it was there for her.
About 3 hours later, much to my surprise, she rang the bell to my front door. She came in and, over the course of the next few hours, she poured her heart out to me. She was sad and mad at Justin. Their relationship had been a tempestuous one. Truthfully, while I did intend to be a gentleman, I couldn't help but be completely turned on by her-I wanted to fuck her and wanted it badly. What made things worse was the socks she wore. Let me explain, I love legs and love feet. She wore her work skirt and ankle socks (she had her shoes off). She had gorgeous legs to go with her gorgeous body. As we talked in the TV room, she stretched her legs out on the couch so that her socked feet were near me. It was almost more than I could bear. We drank and talked and it was very late. I told her it was too late to go home and she agreed. I showed her to one of the guest rooms and we went and unloaded most of her things from her car.
The next few days sort of went by in a blur. We laughed and talked and had a good time. You could tell we were getting closer and closer. One night, while we talked on the couch, she had her legs stretched out and I started to gently massage her feet. It was after she had worked a shift so she told me that it felt great. I, of course, was stiff as a board and wanted to have sex but we didn't-not that night, anyway. The next night, though, after a few drinks, the same scene repeated itself. This time, however, I moved my hands further up her legs, until, eventually, they were underneath her skirt. She was a little ***** and didn't stop me. I started to rub her pussy through her underwear and she started to gently moan (little cries) and closed her eyes. Every time I tried to move to kiss her lips, though, she turned away until finally she said that she wasn't ready to have sex with another man. What she really meant was that we weren't going to have intercourse because when I stopped my hands, she grabbed them and put them right back on her pussy. When I moved in to orally please her, she didn't stop me. I found out that night that Amanda was a moaner-a very loud moaner. I brought her to orgasm and she really cried out. When I had finished, she took her feet and began rubbing my cock through my pants. I was so horny and she knew it. Eventually, she rubbed faster and faster and told me to unzip my pants. She rubbed her feet onto my dick (I still had my pants on but pulled down and underwear on). Eventually, I came, right in my underwear. I couldn't believe it-I felt like a high school kid or something.
Since that night, she's never left my house. To this day, I have not had intercourse with her. She has given me hand jobs, foot jobs, even a couple of times, she's given me a half assed blow job (I'll have to explain what I mean later), but, we still have not had sex. I have pleased her with my mouth almost everyday. I've brought her to climax countless times after she has had sex with Justin. Did I mention that she's pregnant and I'm marrying her? Yeah, I did.
About an hour ago, she came into my room and I orally made her climax. Justin's cum still dripped from her and was on her legs and pussy. Her pregnant belly right above my head-Justin's baby....soon to be my responsibility. My engagement ring on her finger. When I'd finished, she spent about 2 minutes stroking me until I came and then went back to her room to sleep with Justin. He doesn't live with us but he's here an awful lot. Yet, none of this angers me, anymore. She's in control of my emotions, my cock and my life. I wouldn’t want it any other way.
