Knockin’ ’em up!
Introduction:
The story of a guy who gets off impregnating girls
The first time it happened, I was mortified. The best experience of my life turned around and bit me in the ass, and hard. See, I’d finally gotten laid. And let me tell you, I loved it. The girl wasn’t pretty, nor was she nice, but she seemed to like me and, when I first pushed my hand down her panties, she didn’t stop me. In fact, she didn’t stop me from doing anything. So I fucked her. Twice, sort-of. See, it took me a couple minutes to really get it in, she was really tight and either her hymen was really strong, or I just didn’t push hard enough to pop it at first, but when it finally broke and I sank my dick all the way inside her, I started to shoot. I kept my dick as deep as I could and spurted wad after wad inside her freshly-deflowered cunt. And my dick stayed hard as a rock (ah youth), so after a moment to catch my breath, once I’d shot that fist load, I started to fuck her. I lasted maybe two or three minutes that time. And once again, I shot a huge load of cum as deep inside her as I could. I only got at her once, but I guess that’s all it took. All that bullshit about a girl not being able to get pregnant the first time is, well, bullshit! Maybe two months later, my dad got a call from her dad. Like I said, I was horrified. I wasn’t even fourteen, yet, by the time I turned fifteen, I’d be a father. Fuck! Talk about an emotional upheaval. At first, realizing that there were several people who now knew that I’d had sex was not a thought I was overly happy with. It felt like every one looked at me different now. Like there was something wrong with me. Although in the grand scheme of things, other than several long and boring lectures about being responsible, and not doing grown-up things until I was grown-up, and a month of being grounded, nothing that bad happened. All the decisions were made by our parents (she would go to live with relatives out-of-town until the baby was born, and as soon as the baby was born, it would be put up for adoption), so really, other than the fun part, I was not involved. Then, as the rumors started to spread, one of the totally cool, older boys came up to me one day and said, “You really knocked-up that Smith girl?” And when, blushing and not able to look the older boy in the eye, I mumbled that I had, he replied, “Way to go, little stud! Never would have thought a runt like you would have it in you.”
That changed my life. See, I was a little runt. That guy who was never good at any of the ball-games, smart, but a bit of a smart-ass, who usually didn’t have a lot of friends. I was the kind of kid who didn’t get much respect from my peers, and considering we moved around a lot (dad had a hard time keeping a job) it was that much harder to make friends. So when the older boy gave me a pat on the back, I really felt good about myself. I didn’t care that he was congratulating me for doing something that was completely irresponsible and immature didn’t matter to me. If I’d never gotten laid, that guy would have never spoken to me.
So is it a surprise that the next time I was able to get a girl alone (this girl was a couple years older than me–I was now fourteen, she was fifteen–the first girl was my age), I fucked her. She wasn’t a virgin and she didn’t really want to do it. But, being the stud that I was, I talked her into it. And she only agreed to it as long as I promised not to come inside her. Well, at the time, I’d have promised anything. Once again, I came twice. The first time only a minute or two after I started fucking her. I don’t think she even knew I shot that first load. So about five minutes later, when I’d worked-up to my second load, she realized what was about to happen and pushed me off her. I shot my second load all over her belly and tits, which she didn’t like, but, since it didn’t end-up inside her, she didn’t complain too much.
It was a hell of a day. It was a couple months after the second time I got laid, and the girl I’d done it with came up to me and told me her period was late. At first, a feeling of dread came over me. “But I pulled-out,” I reminded her, not admitting to the first load, which I pumped deep inside her. “I know,” she agreed. “But it has to be you,” she continued. “I was with another boy a month before you, but, I had my period after that.” “Then, it must be his,” I responded, repeating, “I pulled out.” And that was basically the end of it. Although I did hear (through the rumor-mill) that the girl had refused to name the baby’s father, and the suspicion was that the boy in question was so much younger than her, that she was simply too embarrassed to say who it was. But that same day, when I got home from school, my parents told me that they’d gotten a call from the first girl’s parents. She’d had the baby. A girl, six-pounds, nine-ounces and eighteen inches long. Other than that they’d already found adoptive parents for her, that’s all I knew about my first child.
A month or so later, the second girl I had sex with transferred to another school, even though everyone knew of her condition. Lots of boys’ names were bandied-about as the possible father (I guess the girl had been a bit of a slut, or at least that was her reputation), and I even heard my name mentioned once or twice, however whenever I did, I just laughed it off. Not too much time went by when I found out that we were moving again. I was not happy. I’d finally gotten a bit of respect, and I didn’t want to have to start all over again. It took a while for all the details to get ironed out, and in that time, I started feeling restless. And horny. I was almost fifteen and had gotten laid twice, once for sure impregnating the girl I fucked, and I was pretty sure that the same happened the second time too. It had been about six months, and I was growing sick of beating-off. I wanted more pussy.
I found it too. She was cute, young (she told me she was fourteen, but I later found out that she was only twelve, which was ok with me, considering I told her I was two years older than I really was too), and had no clue what she was getting herself into. So, as much as I hate to admit it, this was one of the best fucks of my life. She was one of those girls who just couldn’t wait to grow-up. She wore a string-bikini and flirted her ass off. I really don’t think she had any clue how much of a tease she was. And when I finally got her alone, well, she sort of freaked out. She was fine while we were making-out, and only protested a little when I started to get my hand up her shirt. She didn’t want to let me get into her pants, and it took me a while, but I did. She asked me to stop when I started to put a finger inside her. I kissed her harder, told her how good she felt and how much I loved her, and before long, I was bumping my finger against her cherry. She fought when I started pulling her shorts and panties down, but I was bigger and if anything, her struggle got me even hotter. I had her pinned down on her back, her wrists over her head with one hand, her legs spread with me between them. I didn’t even take off my pants. I opened the zipper, pulled them and my boxers down just enough to get my dick out, and started to put it in. For a bit, we wrestled. Me trying to shove it in, and her trying to prevent it. Finally, when I could feel myself getting close to blowing my load and I still hadn’t gotten it in yet, I gave her a hard shake and, surprising myself, as much as I did her, I said, “Stop it. I’m gonna fuck you and that’s all there is to it. I thought you were old enough to know that if you didn’t want to get fucked, you shouldn’t have ever come out here with me.” And with that, I thrust hard and felt myself sink in. This girl’s hymen seemed to break a lot easier, although my dick was a bit bigger than when I’d popped my first cherry, and, knowing what I was up against this time, I put everything I had behind my hips when I thrust inside her.
She started screaming bloody-murder. So, I put my hand over her face to keep her quiet. I nailed her hard, as deep as I possibly could be with the first thrust. And would you believe it, I started to come. I think my first wad popped out before I even bottomed out. Then after that, my cum didn’t come out in individual spurts. It was like I was pissing, rather than coming. As the cute, young girl squirmed and squealed, I jetted one long, drawn-out, huge fucking load of cum deep in her cunt. The shit kept pouring and pouring out of me. I never wanted it to stop. And the way her body moved, it was like she was drawing the fluid out of me. It was the best orgasm I’d ever had. I’d never experienced anything quite like it. And when it finally did subside and I regained control of my body, I started fucking. I fucked her for a minute just like that, her on her back and me between her legs, humping like a jack-rabbit. Then I got an idea, and without letting my dick pop out of her, I tucked my knees under me, so I was sitting on my feet, and pulled her up into my lap, so that her legs spread around my waist. To keep her cries muted, I covered her mouth with mine, and as I thrust my hips forward, I wrapped my arms around her little body, pulling her down and tight against me. I didn’t last more than a minute, on my knees fucking that cute girl. And shooting another load inside her felt good. Great, in fact. But it wasn’t like that first one. I didn’t piss my cum out. It came out in spurts, like it always had. There were, like, ten, maybe a dozen good squirts, but individual squirts none the same. It still felt incredible, and finally my dick started to deflate. She was still crying, and I sat there hugging her, a few minutes after my dick and surely most of my cum had slithered out of her pussy. I couldn’t believe the size of the puddle that leaked out of her. I soothed her, telling her that everything was going to be all right. I reminded her that she was a woman now, that none of her young friends could tease her about being a virgin. I told her how good she made me feel. And before long, she stopped crying. She even smiled a bit, kissed me on the cheek, and thanked me for making her a woman. Then I did something really stupid. I lifted her to her feet, then slowly stood myself (I was a bit cramped on my knees like that). I saw her expression change, and she started screaming again. I looked down. I was covered in blood. Well, blood and cum. But all those red streaks, mixed with the white blobs, covering almost the whole area between my hips, looked horrible. And at first, I tried to figure-out why I hadn’t felt myself bleeding. Then, as I saw her hands go between her legs and scoop-up some more of the goo, I realized what had happened. It was the blood from her cherry being torn apart.
I don’t know what made me do it. As the girl looked down at the blood shed with her innocence, I reached down and wiped a big streak of it off my dick. She was so intranced in the substance in her hand, that I don’t think she noticed me lifting the goo to my mouth and taking a taste. She did see me take a second taste, and that’s when she lost it. She started screaming and yelling and running around like a chicken with her head cut-off. It always worked in the movies, so I slapped her. It worked. She was crying a bit, but she calmed down. I was feeling quite strong, much like I imagined a hunter would after the kill. And instead of trying to sooth her this time, I resorted to threats. I told her that if she ever told anyone about what had just happened, I’d hurt her bad. I threatened physical pain and told her how easy it would be to let everyone know how much of a slut she was and ruin her reputation. Then, without really thinking about what I was saying, I said, “Even if I just got you pregnant, you better not tell them my fucking name.” Well, I had to slap her again. I shouldn’t have said that, after all, I’d told her a fake name (I could be dumb sometimes, but I wasn’t stupid), so what the fuck did I care if she told.
We moved a few weeks later, and several months later I heard that the girl I’d basically raped (and had the best orgasm of my life with) was pregnant. And for the first time, hearing that news didn’t send a dread-shock through my system. In fact, my blood went hot and I felt a throb between my legs. I was three for three. And the funny thing was, the girl had broken down and told the name of the boy who’d impregnated her. “So, have you ever heard of this Tom Stone guy?” my buddy from the old neighborhood asked. “I guess he’s like sixteen or seventeen, and he said that he went to our school.” I said that I guess I didn’t know him, and as soon as we hung-up, I ran to my room and jerked-off. I thought about how it had felt those months before, spraying my cum into that girl, like pissing hot fire, a second after ripping through her maidenhead, her screeching and struggling under me. It had been fucking incredible, and now it was even better, knowing that my third child was now growing in the girl’s belly.
That changed my life. See, I was a little runt. That guy who was never good at any of the ball-games, smart, but a bit of a smart-ass, who usually didn’t have a lot of friends. I was the kind of kid who didn’t get much respect from my peers, and considering we moved around a lot (dad had a hard time keeping a job) it was that much harder to make friends. So when the older boy gave me a pat on the back, I really felt good about myself. I didn’t care that he was congratulating me for doing something that was completely irresponsible and immature didn’t matter to me. If I’d never gotten laid, that guy would have never spoken to me.
So is it a surprise that the next time I was able to get a girl alone (this girl was a couple years older than me–I was now fourteen, she was fifteen–the first girl was my age), I fucked her. She wasn’t a virgin and she didn’t really want to do it. But, being the stud that I was, I talked her into it. And she only agreed to it as long as I promised not to come inside her. Well, at the time, I’d have promised anything. Once again, I came twice. The first time only a minute or two after I started fucking her. I don’t think she even knew I shot that first load. So about five minutes later, when I’d worked-up to my second load, she realized what was about to happen and pushed me off her. I shot my second load all over her belly and tits, which she didn’t like, but, since it didn’t end-up inside her, she didn’t complain too much.
It was a hell of a day. It was a couple months after the second time I got laid, and the girl I’d done it with came up to me and told me her period was late. At first, a feeling of dread came over me. “But I pulled-out,” I reminded her, not admitting to the first load, which I pumped deep inside her. “I know,” she agreed. “But it has to be you,” she continued. “I was with another boy a month before you, but, I had my period after that.” “Then, it must be his,” I responded, repeating, “I pulled out.” And that was basically the end of it. Although I did hear (through the rumor-mill) that the girl had refused to name the baby’s father, and the suspicion was that the boy in question was so much younger than her, that she was simply too embarrassed to say who it was. But that same day, when I got home from school, my parents told me that they’d gotten a call from the first girl’s parents. She’d had the baby. A girl, six-pounds, nine-ounces and eighteen inches long. Other than that they’d already found adoptive parents for her, that’s all I knew about my first child.
A month or so later, the second girl I had sex with transferred to another school, even though everyone knew of her condition. Lots of boys’ names were bandied-about as the possible father (I guess the girl had been a bit of a slut, or at least that was her reputation), and I even heard my name mentioned once or twice, however whenever I did, I just laughed it off. Not too much time went by when I found out that we were moving again. I was not happy. I’d finally gotten a bit of respect, and I didn’t want to have to start all over again. It took a while for all the details to get ironed out, and in that time, I started feeling restless. And horny. I was almost fifteen and had gotten laid twice, once for sure impregnating the girl I fucked, and I was pretty sure that the same happened the second time too. It had been about six months, and I was growing sick of beating-off. I wanted more pussy.
I found it too. She was cute, young (she told me she was fourteen, but I later found out that she was only twelve, which was ok with me, considering I told her I was two years older than I really was too), and had no clue what she was getting herself into. So, as much as I hate to admit it, this was one of the best fucks of my life. She was one of those girls who just couldn’t wait to grow-up. She wore a string-bikini and flirted her ass off. I really don’t think she had any clue how much of a tease she was. And when I finally got her alone, well, she sort of freaked out. She was fine while we were making-out, and only protested a little when I started to get my hand up her shirt. She didn’t want to let me get into her pants, and it took me a while, but I did. She asked me to stop when I started to put a finger inside her. I kissed her harder, told her how good she felt and how much I loved her, and before long, I was bumping my finger against her cherry. She fought when I started pulling her shorts and panties down, but I was bigger and if anything, her struggle got me even hotter. I had her pinned down on her back, her wrists over her head with one hand, her legs spread with me between them. I didn’t even take off my pants. I opened the zipper, pulled them and my boxers down just enough to get my dick out, and started to put it in. For a bit, we wrestled. Me trying to shove it in, and her trying to prevent it. Finally, when I could feel myself getting close to blowing my load and I still hadn’t gotten it in yet, I gave her a hard shake and, surprising myself, as much as I did her, I said, “Stop it. I’m gonna fuck you and that’s all there is to it. I thought you were old enough to know that if you didn’t want to get fucked, you shouldn’t have ever come out here with me.” And with that, I thrust hard and felt myself sink in. This girl’s hymen seemed to break a lot easier, although my dick was a bit bigger than when I’d popped my first cherry, and, knowing what I was up against this time, I put everything I had behind my hips when I thrust inside her.
She started screaming bloody-murder. So, I put my hand over her face to keep her quiet. I nailed her hard, as deep as I possibly could be with the first thrust. And would you believe it, I started to come. I think my first wad popped out before I even bottomed out. Then after that, my cum didn’t come out in individual spurts. It was like I was pissing, rather than coming. As the cute, young girl squirmed and squealed, I jetted one long, drawn-out, huge fucking load of cum deep in her cunt. The shit kept pouring and pouring out of me. I never wanted it to stop. And the way her body moved, it was like she was drawing the fluid out of me. It was the best orgasm I’d ever had. I’d never experienced anything quite like it. And when it finally did subside and I regained control of my body, I started fucking. I fucked her for a minute just like that, her on her back and me between her legs, humping like a jack-rabbit. Then I got an idea, and without letting my dick pop out of her, I tucked my knees under me, so I was sitting on my feet, and pulled her up into my lap, so that her legs spread around my waist. To keep her cries muted, I covered her mouth with mine, and as I thrust my hips forward, I wrapped my arms around her little body, pulling her down and tight against me. I didn’t last more than a minute, on my knees fucking that cute girl. And shooting another load inside her felt good. Great, in fact. But it wasn’t like that first one. I didn’t piss my cum out. It came out in spurts, like it always had. There were, like, ten, maybe a dozen good squirts, but individual squirts none the same. It still felt incredible, and finally my dick started to deflate. She was still crying, and I sat there hugging her, a few minutes after my dick and surely most of my cum had slithered out of her pussy. I couldn’t believe the size of the puddle that leaked out of her. I soothed her, telling her that everything was going to be all right. I reminded her that she was a woman now, that none of her young friends could tease her about being a virgin. I told her how good she made me feel. And before long, she stopped crying. She even smiled a bit, kissed me on the cheek, and thanked me for making her a woman. Then I did something really stupid. I lifted her to her feet, then slowly stood myself (I was a bit cramped on my knees like that). I saw her expression change, and she started screaming again. I looked down. I was covered in blood. Well, blood and cum. But all those red streaks, mixed with the white blobs, covering almost the whole area between my hips, looked horrible. And at first, I tried to figure-out why I hadn’t felt myself bleeding. Then, as I saw her hands go between her legs and scoop-up some more of the goo, I realized what had happened. It was the blood from her cherry being torn apart.
I don’t know what made me do it. As the girl looked down at the blood shed with her innocence, I reached down and wiped a big streak of it off my dick. She was so intranced in the substance in her hand, that I don’t think she noticed me lifting the goo to my mouth and taking a taste. She did see me take a second taste, and that’s when she lost it. She started screaming and yelling and running around like a chicken with her head cut-off. It always worked in the movies, so I slapped her. It worked. She was crying a bit, but she calmed down. I was feeling quite strong, much like I imagined a hunter would after the kill. And instead of trying to sooth her this time, I resorted to threats. I told her that if she ever told anyone about what had just happened, I’d hurt her bad. I threatened physical pain and told her how easy it would be to let everyone know how much of a slut she was and ruin her reputation. Then, without really thinking about what I was saying, I said, “Even if I just got you pregnant, you better not tell them my fucking name.” Well, I had to slap her again. I shouldn’t have said that, after all, I’d told her a fake name (I could be dumb sometimes, but I wasn’t stupid), so what the fuck did I care if she told.
We moved a few weeks later, and several months later I heard that the girl I’d basically raped (and had the best orgasm of my life with) was pregnant. And for the first time, hearing that news didn’t send a dread-shock through my system. In fact, my blood went hot and I felt a throb between my legs. I was three for three. And the funny thing was, the girl had broken down and told the name of the boy who’d impregnated her. “So, have you ever heard of this Tom Stone guy?” my buddy from the old neighborhood asked. “I guess he’s like sixteen or seventeen, and he said that he went to our school.” I said that I guess I didn’t know him, and as soon as we hung-up, I ran to my room and jerked-off. I thought about how it had felt those months before, spraying my cum into that girl, like pissing hot fire, a second after ripping through her maidenhead, her screeching and struggling under me. It had been fucking incredible, and now it was even better, knowing that my third child was now growing in the girl’s belly.
Let me know if you like this story and I’ll write more. Leave a comment or drop me a PM.
Hope you liked it.
