The 5:30 AM alarm went off, and I awoke quickly as usual. I stopped the alarm and sat up in bed for a second as I came to my senses. Working a blue-collar job meant very early mornings and often long, gruelling days. I never dreamed of working in construction, but here I was for the past year and a half. With the job market being as shit as it is and the pay of blue collar being worthwhile, it seemed like the best deal for now.

I looked back at my wife, Alisha, who was still sleeping. She was a beautiful brown brunette who was way out of my league. With dusky skin and a curvy build, I knew I had scored with a future milf, undoubtedly. She was desperately searching for a job in her field. No luck yet, though. So at the moment, she was unemployed, and I was the sole breadwinner.

We married young before she was even done with college. I had finished and decided to take on this construction job until we were both ready to get our lives started. That was a year ago. She's now graduated and is taking it slow and staying at home. I work hard to make sure she can. About two weeks ago, she dropped a curveball on me. She wanted kids.

I knew women had baby fever, but my god, the urge is strong in them sometimes. We were only in our mid-twenties and hadn't been married for long, but I had a hard time saying no to her. I mean, the idea of finally having unprotected sex with her didn't sound like the worst thing in the world to me. She always felt strongly about waiting for kids and didn't like taking risks, so I've always used condoms. She begged and begged, and I finally relented. So it looked like her not working and me working long hours at this construction job was going to be the norm for a little while.

I got up and walked across the hall to our bathroom to begin getting ready. Our home was small, but we owned it, which is rare for our age. My grandparents left me a generous inheritance, and my wife and I didn't hesitate to use it for real estate. I glanced down the hall at the room next to ours; it was an unfinished bedroom, which was part of the reason we got the house at the price we did. Alisha wanted that to be the baby's room since it was right next to ours, so I began doing some work in there in my free time.

I laughed to myself a bit; I'm sure I've done more damage to that room than actually helped it. For example, I accidentally drilled through some wires, rendering a socket in there useless. Also, while attempting to put up shelves in the closet, I drilled right through into our bedroom. Luckily, Alisha had never noticed, as it was small enough and surrounded by plants and paintings she'd decorated our room with.

 ..........

The work was long and gruelling, like usual. I came home after a very long day and dropped myself on the couch as usual. My hands were beaten up, I was dirty and sweaty, and I'm sure I wasn't the funniest person to have around after work. But nonetheless, Alisha gave me a warm smile and a kiss to welcome me home. She had prepared dinner and handed me the plate. I couldn't thank her enough; she truly was the perfect dream wife.

"So I was thinking,"  she started, a little hesitantly. "What if we went to a clinic to make sure we're both, you know, fertile?"

I was a bit surprised, as we hadn't even begun trying. It took me a few days to agree, and she wanted to start tracking her cycle so she knew when she was most fertile. I relayed to her my thoughts; she persisted, however.

"I know, I just figure it's cheap to get it checked, and maybe knowing beforehand would be extra beneficial to trying? Maybe they could even help? I just don't want to waste time. I want this so bad and just want to take all the steps we can."

I interrupted her a bit and said, "It's ok, baby; if you want to go, we can go. I just don't want you to be too ahead of yourself, I guess, but there's nothing wrong with getting checked."

She smiled her big smile and hugged me. Tomorrow was my day off, and she wanted to go get checked then. I agreed, and the appointment was set.

That night, I had another nightmare. It wasn't uncommon for me to have these nightmares. I was back in high school. I was the skinny, dorky kid I always was growing up. I was in the hallways and realised I didn't have pants on.

"No fucking way... that dork wants to go pantsless now." Laughter erupted.

I turned around and saw my bully, Ryan. Ryan was the star of all my nightmares; he also tormented me in high school and was as evil as they came. He would smack my lunch out of my hands and trip me; one time he held me in a headlock while flirting with a girl he liked. The worst part was that she gave him her number all while I was nearly choked out right there. He was popular and attractive, and I wasn't. And he spent every day making sure my life was hell.

The dream continued with me pantsless and all the kids laughing—not an unusual feeling. Ryan picked me up by my ankles and held me upside down. The kids really exploded in laughter at that one. I was flailing in the dream, trying to grab him and get back to my feet, but I was unsuccessful.

layI woke up from the nightmare, my heart racing. My wife still laid fast asleep undisturbed. Thank goodness. She wasn't aware of my nightmares or the extent of my being bullied. We met in college, and I told her I had been picked on here and there a bit but never explained. I didn't tell her how Ryan once gave me a wedgie that was so bad that he picked me up and carried me down the hall like that. The slurs he'd spray painted on my car caused me hours of cleaning at the car wash and funny looks from people.

The worst he did, though, was his verbal assaults. He got groups of kids to all laugh at me while he tore my insecurities apart. It had been years since I'd seen him, but those nightmares still plagued me from time to time.

After sitting up for a minute and collecting my thoughts, the horrible feeling of the dream faded, and I no longer felt like a schoolboy being bullied once more. It was early in the morning, and I decided to try and get some more rest before our early morning clinic visit.

The appointment came and went like that. They told us we should expect to hear results in less than a week. During that time, she told me she had nearly finished tracking her cycle and we could start trying soon. I had never been more ecstatic for anything. I was finally going to fully experience my wife.

Before my dreams could bubble much bigger, they were crushed. I came home from work one evening, and my wife was pacing the house, looking worried.

"The clinic called," she started. My heart started racing as I prepared for bad news. "They said you're completely infertile; there's next to no chance of you getting me pregnant."

I felt my stomach drop at this news.

"So what does this mean? We can't have kids," I asked.

Her eyes filled with tears, and I could tell this news was almost more devastating to her than it was to me.

I held her as she softly cried. I knew how much she wanted a kid, and I knew she wanted to be a typical mother. My flashes of emotion went from dumbfounded to sadness and eventually to anger. Maybe it was my recent nightmare, but my mind immediately flashed back to high school. I could see and feel every time that dickhead Ryan punched me in the balls, kicked me, and one time even had his other friends hold me down and hold my legs apart while he bowled a bowling ball right down the middle, the whole time laughing his ass off. I just somehow knew that that little punk was the reason my testicles had stopped producing swimmers. He was the reason I couldn't give my wife a kid.

I wanted to give it a few days to let things settle, but my wife pulled herself together as quickly as she could and looked into other alternatives. She began doing research into anything that would make her a mom—adoption, sperm donation, and even things that could make me more fertile—though every website prefaced that it only slightly increased the odds and couldn't fix infertility.

She also decided that if possible, she absolutely wanted this kid to be hers; adoption would only be a last resort. We both looked into sperm donors, but there was one problem. Money. I worked hard and spent long hours breaking my back, and even with that, we were only getting by with a little extra every month. Saving up enough money to even attempt it once would take months, and that's assuming it even worked the first time. I could tell this was crushing Alisha.

...........

One night after another long, exhausting day at work, Alisha hesitantly approached me. She came and sat by me, acting all sweet and over-the-top nice—the kind of thing someone does when they want a favor. I questioned her a bit, and she reluctantly opened up.

"Well, I've been browsing online these past few days looking for any solution to our problem, as you know. And I may have found one, but it's a bit of a long shot," she stated.

I perked up in excitement and questioned her more.

"Well, I was trying to look into cheaper sperm donor methods."

My excitement deflated from my body a bit, as I didn't relish the idea of it being another man's child technically.

"And I stumbled onto something really interesting."

Her beating around the bush had me confused, and I desperately kept pulling it out of her.

You can't be serious,"  I said with the most dumbstruck look on my face. "You want to have another guy fuck you?"

She tried calming me down as she sensed my frustration. "Don't put it like that; it sounds extreme. Look, I found this website that offers extremely fertile men at really low rates. It says they're professionals, and they're not there to invade your home life or anything; they do the bare minimum to get the job done. It really wouldn't even be sex; it'd be more like he jerks off and last second puts it inside of me so I can get his sperm."

I hated this idea immediately. No man was going to touch my wife if I had any say about it. She was gorgeous, and I had a hard time believing that this mysterious man would be so good-hearted and not make a move of some sort. The idea of another man's dick anywhere near my wife made my stomach tight. We argued back and forth, with me not giving any ground on this. However, Alisha finally broke down into sobbing tears.

"Look, I've tried looking into everything. I barely even want to get out of bed anymore unless it's in search of a way to get pregnant. I want to be a mom more than anything else on this planet. And I love you; I really do, darling, but this is absolutely a deal-breaker for me. I know it's not your fault you can't have kids, but I can't see my life without them. I need to make this happen, and this is the only feasible way I've found. So I'm sorry, but if you're not on board with this, then we need to start having a different discussion."

The threat of divorce stopped me dead in my tracks. I loved Alisha more than I loved anyone. Everything I've done since meeting her has been for her. I knew how much this meant to her, and while I hated the thought, I could lay down ground rules and just suffer through this one moment in life to get to spend the rest of it with her. Nothing was worth losing her. Finally, and reluctantly, I agreed.

My wife was ecstatic for the next few days and browsed the website for partners. There were, surprisingly, quite a few men to choose from there. I had laid down my ground rules with her, and she agreed to them all. She wasn't allowed to see this man again when he was done. The bare minimum was to be done in order to get her pregnant; this was not a hall pass for her. I also wanted nothing to do with this process; I never looked at the website or any of the dudes. I didn't want to meet these guys and would promptly leave the house whenever they were due to come over.

She met up with a couple of guys to interview them a bit, see if they were a right fit, and get a feel for what traits our future kid would pick up. Every time she came back, though, she seemed increasingly disappointed. None of these guys were the right fit, and she wanted to be as selective as possible about who would father our future child. She was starting to run out of men in our area, according to the website. That was until the other day.

I had had a particularly hard day at work. The boss had been working me hard, and I'd been working later hours when I could to pay for these sessions, even if it made me sick to my stomach to think about them. When I was finally resting at home, Alisha came bursting through the door. She seemed completely over-the-top excited.

"What's got you grinning so big?" I asked.

"I finally found a guy I think would be a good fit!" she exclaimed.

My heart dropped a little.

"We've been talking for the last few hours, and he seems perfect; his characteristics would be great in our child, both personality and physically,"  she said with almost a giggle. This felt like a punch in the stomach, as my wife basically called this man attractive.

"How long were you two talking?" I asked.

She hesitated for a second, seeming to not want to answer, but swiftly did once it began to feel like an awkward silence.

"Four hours!?!?" I exclaimed, a bit upset. Anger and jealousy were really starting to bubble inside of me. I was filled with emotions about this whole thing.

"Well, I needed to be sure that this was the right guy. Do you want me to just take some random guy off the street? Every other guy on the website is a loser and doesn't come close; this was the first guy that actually seemed like an interesting prospect, and I think we should go through with it."

My emotions wanted me to scream and be angry. But I had already agreed to this mess, and she seemed to be back in one of her stern moods. I asked if she had already set up a time with him, and she said she hadn't. She asked if I wanted to see him, which I declined. I already felt sick; seeing the guy would make it worse. I very reluctantly told her to set up the time then. She bubbled in excitement again.

Every day that passed, my dread filled me more and more. I never wanted this day to come, but I also wanted it to be over. The guy's rate was $100  a session until it worked. It seemed too expensive for the service, in my opinion, but it was still cheaper than any other service. Not to mention my overtime was starting to save up a good wad of cash.

The day finally arrived. I had never felt so sick. Meanwhile, Alisha almost seemed to be glowing. She knew I was in a grumpy mood but chose to ignore it. She was walking on cloud nine. I mostly moped in the living room, but I still took notice of her doing her hair and makeup. Worst of all, I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of her wearing one of her sexy thongs that she wears to entice me, but I thought the less I knew, the better.

Though originally we had agreed I'd leave before he got here and return after, she wanted me to stay and meet him. She insisted this had to do with our child, and I should care as much as she did. I hated the idea and resisted, but she guilt-tripped me into at least greeting him and then allowing me to leave. The time finally came when there was a knock on the door. She waved me over to open it with her. When the doorknob turned and she pulled it up, I saw my old high school bully, Ryan, standing there.

I felt the blood rush from my face; I could've sworn time had stopped. Every single beat my heart beat was like the hardest and loudest it had ever done. He looked at her with a polite grin, then his eyes darted to me, and I saw a more sinister smile spread across his face.

"Honey, this is Ryan," my wife said, happily introducing us. He extended a hand out while keeping his stupid smirk: "Nice to meet you."

After a second of processing, I shook it. My mind raced with thoughts. I wanted to tell my wife who this pig was; I wanted to kick him out right then and there and finally stand up to him. I was a different man after all. But somehow, being in front of your old bully just brings back something in you. Something scared.

"Sweetie, could I talk to you in private for a moment?" I asked my wife. She gave a kind of confused and uncomfortable look.

"Don't mind me, I can wait out here," Ryan started. "Wait a minute... Parth, is that you? God, I didn't even recognise you. How have you been? I guess not as great as you'd like, huh?" he finished with a chuckle.

My wife looked back and forth and said, "You two know each other?"

"We went to high school together; we were good buddies. Your husband did pick on me a bit, but I always knew it was friendly." Ryan said. He never broke eye contact and continued to have his half-assed smirk. What game was he playing? He was lying to my wife and coming here.

"Give us a moment," I said, shutting the door on him. My wife turned to me, bewildered. "Why'd you shut the door on him? What's wrong?"

"Look, you know how I said some kids picked on me occasionally? Well, he was one of them and one of the worst. I hate that guy, and I want to stop this now. I want you to send him home; we'll find someone else, anyone else."

My wife took a second and gave me more perplexed looks. "You said it was never that bad?"

I wanted to tell her the truth. I was ruthlessly bullied. How that man two feet outside abused me, hit me, mocked me, and did every vile thing he could think of to me. I was tortured for years because of him. I even fully believed he was the reason I couldn't give my wife a kid myself because he hit my balls repeatedly so many times. But I just couldn't face the shame of her seeing me differently.

"Some were worse than others," was all I could manage to say.

"Well," she started, "it doesn't sound like he teased you that bad, and he said you picked on him a bit too, so let's just let the past go. I think it's time you got over that stuff; it was high school after all. We absolutely are not backing out of this for any reason. I've been searching all over for solutions, unlike you, and this was the only one that'll work. I told you no kids was a deal-breaker, and I meant it. If you try to cancel this, we will immediately march down to the divorce attorneys. Do you understand?"

She was furious, and she had that look in her eyes. The look all married men know. This was the last thing I wanted—well,  almost the last thing. I loved her, and she was as gorgeous of a wife as I was going to get. I couldn't lose her. With my tail between my legs, I closed my eyes and nodded yes.

"Good," she said. "And in fact, to bury the hatchet, why don't you start by apologising to him? Show him you're the bigger man."

My stomach dropped. There was no way I could apologise to this man; I had no reason either. I was his victim. I tried to protest, but she shot me that look and silenced me. She whispered, "I'm not asking again."

I opened the door to a cheerful Ryan, who resumed his unbreakable eye contact. I reached out my hand and said, "Ryan, I'd like to apologise and hope we can keep our past behind us,"  with as much repulsion in my voice as I could muster.

The biggest, most obvious douchebag smirk spread across his face as he grabbed my hand and violently shook it. He had such a tight grip that I could've sworn something would break.

Alisha reached out her hand for him, which he took, and led him inside. I stepped to the side and let him walk in. The whole way he walked in, he looked over at me with a shit-eating grin, which my wife couldn't see as she was ahead of us. I stepped outside and reached for the door handle.

"Sweetie!" my wife called. "Why don't you give us about forty-five to sixty minutes before you come back?"

I nodded, unable to speak, and shut the door to my house so my old bully could go fuck and breed my wife.

I started walking down the street in disbelief. I took a glance back at the house. My heart was beating out of my chest. I thought for sure I was going to be sick. No, I knew I was going to be sick. I walked around the block, which only took about ten minutes; the whole time, my mind was unable to think of anything else. Suddenly, and I couldn't explain why, I needed to get back in that house more than anything. I needed to make sure this was nothing; maybe they were done already. I began sprinting back towards my house, and when I got there, I decided to hop over the fence and sneak around back. The back door was quieter.

I opened it and closed it softly, letting no noise echo through the house. I tried to hear anything, but honestly, my heartbeat was so loud that it was all I could hear. Then, not even a second later, I heard it.

"Ohhhhh." My wife let out a loud moan.

What the fuck? They weren't supposed to be fucking?

I creeped into the kitchen, closer to our bedroom. There, I could hear a lot more. I could hear obvious, rhythmic clapping sounds. I could feel sweat on my face and thought I might pass out. I couldn't barge in and stop this, not in this state.

I don't know why the thought hit me, but it did. The hole in the wall. The one in the adjacent room to our bedroom. I'd be able to see what's going on in there. Without a second thought, I crept down the hall, past our room, and into the spare. With my heart still racing, I crept up to the wall and peeked in. My view made my stomach drop.

As clear as a window, I saw my wife lying on our marital bed on her back. Her legs were stretched completely back, almost over her head. On top lay Ryan, my bully, with his naked body pressed down firmly into her. His muscles were defining, and his hips pounded in and out of her like a machine. Her feet were wrapped around his head; they were completely clenched with her toes flexing, as if to grip onto something invisible. They were both looking deep into each other's eyes. Ryan had a straight, serious face that looked like a lion hunting his prey. My wife's eyes looked completely lust-filled, nearly rolling back into her head as her mouth hung open.

"Ohhhh, oh, oh, oh," she was moaning in rhythm with him striking her body with his own. I had never heard these noises she was making. They sounded primal, completely involuntary, like she was gasping for air in a way. She had moaned for me before, but compared to this, they sounded fake and forced. My eyes wandered down, and for the first time, I saw his cock.

His cock looked magnificent. Like, 'cock' was the only good word to describe it. It was long and thick and looked like a snickers bar with its veins. I was maybe 4.5 inches on a good day. There was no way this monster was anything less than 8 and thicker than any pornstars I'd ever seen. It was gleaming in the light from my wife's wet, wet pussycat. It was completely drenched, like it had been oiled up.

He also had a giant sack to complement it, which, with every thrust of his body, flew up in the air, then promptly back down onto my wife's asshole, smacking it with force. Every single time he clapped into her, I saw water droplets spray and get splashed all over the bed. It looked like someone poured a water bottle down my wife's ass; she was dripping so much. I could see the bed was soaked under her. A lot of her pussy juice dripped its way into her asshole, where Ryan's giant sack swiftly smacked into it, causing the most spraying effect while also getting the front of his balls wet.

I felt sick. I wondered if I should stop this, run in, and make them separate. But to what end? Assuming Ryan didn't knock me out for it, my wife threatened divorce if I didn't let this happen. It was my fault for coming back to watch, but now that I had, nothing could pull me away.

Ryan continued breeding my wife by giving her undoubtedly the best sex she's gotten in a long time. My wife's moans picked up as I could tell she was approaching an orgasm; they got higher pitched and more breathless sounding. Finally, her eyes completely rolled back in her head, and her mouth opened all the way, like she wanted to scream, but nothing came out. Her pussycat began spraying water like a sprinkler; I never even knew the human body could spray that much water. It squirted in all directions, covering parts of herself and the bed. Most of it was sprayed directly on the source of such immense pleasure, Ryan. It sprayed him like a hose, making him drip wet as if he had just come from a swim. The spraying must've lasted four to five seconds of straight pressurised pussy juice.

When it began to subside, Ryan slowed his strokes and slowly pulled his cock out of my wife.

His cock was dripping wet. He got off my wife, who unfolded her legs from atop her, but seemed to need a second to catch her breath. Not that I had any dignity left, but her next words sank whatever little I did. "That's by far the most powerful fucking orgasm I've ever felt. Holy shit."

Ryan smiled and gave a chuckle.

They repositioned to continue; after all, it wasn't over until Ryan's seed filled my wife, giving her his baby. They got in position for doggy, my wife arched her back more than I had ever seen, and she presented her beautiful pale ass to my childhood tormentor. Ryan took a second to admire the view; my wife was truly an LA 10/10, so I couldn't even blame him. He got behind her and slapped his cock against her pussycat a few times before finally mercifully sliding it back into her. My wife's face was immediately filled with a pleasureful smirk.

Ryan wasted no time and began ramming himself into my wife's ass. Her ass cheeks rippled, and her moans continued from how they were. His hands gripped her waist aggressively as he pulled her back into him with every thrust. There were a few hard slaps in there that made my wife squeal with delight.

Finally, to my mercy, Ryan told her he was close. She begged him to fill her, basically screaming it. "Oh my god, I want you to fucking cum inside me as deep as you can; I want you to fill me."

I could tell she was drunk on the sex, as she had no regard for whether I could've made it back home by now and heard this. Ryan gave one final thrust as hard as he could, simultaneously pulling on his wife's ass as hard as he could. His head rolled back, and he released a deep, guttural moan. I couldn't believe at that very moment I was watching my old bully unload every drop of his cum as deep inside her pussycat as he could. I wondered what that felt like. I'd never even been inside of her without thick latex wrapped around me, let alone the sensation of dumping my actual cum into her.

She twitched a little, and it was obvious he was filling her up well. A smile spread on her face, and she said in a sexy voice, "Someone has a lot of cum," while looking back at him.

He returned the cheeky smile and replied, "I was saving it all for your gorgeous pussy."

He pulled out, and almost immediately, a very thick and white liquid began dripping out of her. It was more cum than I had ever seen in my life. It kept gushing and gushing out of her pussy, some down her legs, some straight down onto the bed, which of course happened to be on my side. His white, milky cum looked different than mine; I hated to say it, but it looked healthier. I guess that's the difference between active sperm and non-active sperm.

I knew I needed to get out of there quickly. There was no way I was going to be caught in the house listening to or seeing any of that. I swiftly crept down the hallway and to the backdoor and quietly slipped out. I decided to walk around the block again, giving them another ten minutes to clean up and for Ryan to leave. My mind was scorched by the sights I had just seen. I prayed that this one session worked, that I would never have to see him again, and that I could move on from this.

When I arrived back home, I loudly entered through the front door. My wife and Ryan were sitting there chatting, fully clothed, as if they hadn't just done some of the most dirty, vile things I had ever seen.

"Hi sweetie, welcome back!" my wife cheerfully said.

I just gave a half-assed nod and smile to her, unable to look her in the eyes yet.

"What's he still doing here? You guys are finished, right?"

Ryan stood up and walked up to me, sizing himself up as a much larger man. "There's just the simple matter of payment. I charge $100 per session." I completely forgot I had to fucking pay for all this to happen. I begrudgingly reached into my pocket for my wallet.

As I pulled out the 100-dollar bill, my mind thought of all the back-aching hours of hard manual labour I had to do to get this money. Hours of extra work with my boss screaming at me, all of which left me so tired I could barely keep my eyes open when arriving home. And now this dick was getting that same money for getting to cum inside my gorgeous wife. I handed it to him, and he took it while smiling and dead-staring at me. I again looked away.

He began walking towards the door, but first looked back and yelled to my wife, "Let me know how those results go, Alisha! I'm eager to hear!"