It's been four months since my wife Dana and I discovered our impregnation fetish, and our sex life has never been hotter. From that first moment when we tried to make a baby, the orgasms have been more intense, and I find that Dana is hornier than ever. Whenever she even sees a pregnant woman (and working at the hospital, that happens quite often) she comes home and we have amazing sex, each time picturing my sperm swimming to meet one of her eggs, which will swell her belly and fill her breasts with delicious mother's milk. We've even taken to renting pregnant and lactation porn, something I had never even heard of, but which Dana discovered on one of her trips to the adult book store. Thankfully, the owner has a bit of a preggo fetish, so he was able to point Dana in the right direction.
But in spite of our almost daily fuck sessions, Dana still was not pregnant. I think she was more disappointed than I was, because as much as I wanted Dana to be pregnant, I wasn't sure I was ready to be a father, that is, emotionally ready. Financially, we were more than ready. I had a great job as an associate in a Beverly Hills law firm, and Dana had just been awarded a fellowship at a hospital in Burbank. Thanks to our careers we were able to purchase a rather large house in Los Feliz that had more than enough room for all the babies Dana wanted to fill it with. Not to mention we were both old enough (I was 33, Dana still 29). But having a baby would mean a lot of things that I wasn't sure I was ready for at the moment.
But Dana sure as hell was. Being a doctor, she knew all the things that could be wrong with a seemingly healthy couple trying to get pregnant, so after another two months with no bun in the oven, she made appointments for us to see a fertility specialist. I wasn't too keen on the idea, but I do love my wife, and so I went down to the hospital with her. I deposited my sample, all the while thinking of Dana's tits and belly swelling up.
A few weeks later, we got the test results back. I was sort of worried it was me—after all, what guy wouldn't be? I realize it's a little barbaric, but hey, that's how I felt.
But according to the doctor, it wasn't either one of us. There were no physiological reasons for us not to be able to conceive. After all, Dana was still a young woman, and we had only been trying for six months. The ride home from the hospital was the most depressing moment of my life—sitting there watching my wife in pain, knowing there was nothing I could do about it. Well, maybe not nothing.
"This is going to happen for us, babe," I tired to reassure her, taking her hand in mine and kissing it. "Think about it. We're both young, and the doctor said we're both physically fine. Plus we've only been trying for a few months. And haven't they been fun?"
