The Shoplifter Chapter Three

At home, I found my parents in the family room lost in a TV program. I said hello but little more. I watched enough TV to appear social and then said goodnight and went up to my room. I cleaned up quickly, got into my robe, retrieved Bobby’s note from my handbag and cuddled into bed.

Caroline
Be at 2247 West Branch Street Wed night at seven
Do not be late
There are no alternative dates

I sat contemplating what little information was on the note. In one way is said so little, but in another it said a lot. Undoubtedly I was getting an exam from the Doctor. “No alternative dates” said that loud and clear. Arrangements had been made—it was a plan, and it was a comfort for sure.
I was elated. My world seemed on the right track for the first time since my shoplifting.
My sex felt fine, but I was still aware of the sensitivity, the strange new yearning. A touch told me my vulva lips were moist, but not nearly as tender as six weeks ago. The two of them had taken me, but both seemed almost gentle. Maybe I was just adjusting to it all.
I fell asleep as I counted the days since I had shoplifted. It had been fourteen days before graduation and now it was sixty two days later. Where do you start counting from? It had been more than three months since Mallmart but who knows how long since my last period. Well this doctor could handle it, I was sure.
I got the first good night’s sleep since this all started.
The next twenty hours went so slowly. My mind was continuously occupied with the events ahead.
Everything was a conflict for me. I was so relieved and anxious to get this over, but an image of this baby growing inside me would startle me. Confusion reigned.
Ending this was so morally wrong, but having a black baby at eighteen would be a nightmare of highest order.
On one hand, doctors scared me, but on the other hand, solving this problem and the relief it would provide kept me pumped up.
To top it all off—ending this pregnancy created strong erotic conflict. I would be so relieved to no longer be pregnant, but on the other hand, I had to admit I had found being pregnant could be such a turn on and such a departure from my previous mundane boring life.
Massive confusion, but I tried to keep my thoughts on a return to normalcy and getting ready for college.
My appointment for the next evening was going to take some arranging. I had no idea how long the whole thing would take. Dad was out of town all week so he was no problem. Mother had a card party so it seemed sensible when I suggested to her that I would spend the night with Sybil. Mother thought it was a good idea. I explained we would go out to eat and see a couple movies.
I called Sybil to secure my alibi. She was fully supportive. She thought I was setting up my first overnighter with Kyle. That thought was such a turn on for her so I just let it ride. Besides, I could not come up with a better explanation.
At six the next evening I backed the Mustang out and headed toward 2247 West Branch. I had loaded the address in the GPS and was just following the clues without a thought of which direction I was headed. My mind was fully occupied other things. When the navigator said I had ten minutes to go I began to look around. It was the seediest possible neighborhood. It was a warm summer evening. Blacks were sitting out on every porch and doorstep. My concern grew and grew, but I was drawn steadily by the realization that my only alternative was at the end of this journey. Finally, the house number appeared on my right. It was a decent looking older frame house with a drive down the side. A young black guy stepped into the street and pointed for me to park down the drive in the back of the house.
By the time I had the engine stopped he had opened the door. I turned my knees outward and he took my hand to help me out of the car and up the back steps into an enclosed porch. He asked me to have a seat on a couch. As soon as I was seated, he told me that Bobbie would be right out and then went on through the room and into the main house, leaving me sitting alone.
As I looked down trying to take stock and keep my mind off of other things I realized just how short my skirt was. Why had I not looked in my mirror at home more carefully? I liked short skirts but my Dad was right, my skirts were all too short and my new little tummy made them even shorter, particularly in the front. The skirt I had on was so cute but it was way too sexy to be wearing for a doctor’s appointment.
Also, my breasts appeared much larger than normal. Maybe it was just the light, maybe it was just the way I was sitting, maybe it was guilt; but there was no question to me. My breasts had gotten much bigger and fuller.
An unwelcome but undeniable, erotic excitement welled up inside me and I went to work calming emotions that should never have arisen. Was it the scary situation, the possibility of a solution to my problem or the changes occurring in my body? Each time I looked down over my breasts and tummy a shudder passed through me.
After a couple minutes the door opened and Bobby walked in. He was dressed in a fancy outfit; very black, if you know what I mean. He was smiling broadly,
“Hey girl; I’m glad you found your way down into the hood. We’ve got to get you past these worries—don’t we? And we can do just that.”
He stood there looking at me from a distance away. I cringed a bit, tried to sit up straighter, and pull my skirt down as much as possible.
He nodded approval,
“My you look sweet young lady. Stand up there and let me have a look at your loveliness.”
I stood and he came slowly toward me, never taking his eyes off my body. Once directly in front of me he took both of my hands in his and continued to slowly look up and down my body from my eyes to my legs. He finally stopped when he got to my eyes the second or third time.
He smiled broadly,
“You are every bit as pretty as I remember, lover. Wow, are you some kind of cute.”
I shuddered. It was obvious he knew. He tightened his hold on my hands,
“How long ago Jamal nail this?”
I tried to look at him, and another wanton tremor passed through me;
“A little over two months ago.”
I replied quietly looking downward.
Just then a jolt hit me—Jamal—that was the first time I had heard his name. There was a name plate on the desk in the security office. It was about a foot in front of my nose, but I had never heard the name used. This was the name of the guy whose baby I was carrying. I shook all over. Somehow knowing his name made it all so much more personal; so much more involving. Jamal, Jamal, Jamal—it was Jamal’s life together with mine. Black and white, as mixed together as possible.
“Well you sure do look good, little girl.”
He snapped me back to reality,
“That Jamal is one good looking big black buck and he got you good. You are a beautiful blooming young gal. You look good enough to eat. Come over here.”
Bobby drew me to him, wrapped me in his arms and covered my mouth with his kiss. My arms automatically went around him and I felt my lower body reacting continuously. I was having responses I just had to deny. What he was doing created erotic tremors which passed upward in rapid succession. I could feel his erection firmly against me. He was right…I had to admit. There was a continuous yearning deep in my body that had grown to a firestorm. How could I be reacting this way in a terribly worrisome situation like this? Even in this tense circumstance I was turned on to the point of being out of control. I needed it. I was the “type” girl he had accused me of being from the beginning.
Once again he shocked me back to reality,
“Wow you feel good sugar. Anybody else get close to you or just that Jamal?
I sensed he wanted a special confession from me. Entertainment!
“Yes sir, you got me as well; remember?”
Bobby smiled broadly and wrapped me in another embrace.
“I sure do, honey. How could I forget? I just wanted to hear you say it. You and I got it on real good, didn’t we?”
I looked at him and tried to smile,
“Yes Bobby, you got me real good.”
His grin told me I had said the right thing.
He looked up and down my body again,
“You know you are one fine looking white girl and you look to be doing real good with this whole thing. Are you healthy? Are you feeling good?”
I glance at him,
“Yes. I feel ok.”
“Well you and that Jamal are producing on mighty fine little one here. Are you sure you don’t want to just go on and enjoy all this?”
I looked at him,
“Do you mean go on and have the baby?”
“Why not honey. Bobby would make you a very happy lady if you want to do the right thing with this. A white girl, young and cute as you, pregnant by a big handsome black dude, can have a good time. Bobby can make sure everything comes out right for you. There are so many people looking for a pretty black baby.
I shook my head—no! I could feel tears welling up in my eyes,
“I cannot have a baby. It would ruin my life.”
He looked at me and I could see disappointment. He hesitated as if searching for another argument for me to see the pregnancy through.
Finally a look of resignation,
“Well, let’s get you up to the front room to see the good Doctor Smith. You keep thinking about my offer and when you done talking with the doc, if you want to talk further, I can tell you more about how we make it all work out.”
Bobby led me by the hand as we walked down a short hall and into what was originally the living room.
A very black, short, bald, older man in a white lab coat was seated at a small desk. An examination table dominated the front of the room. The Doctor was introduced. He stood and walked toward me; smiled and told me to undress, put on this hospital gown, and lay down on the table.
The next ten minutes were humiliating but we were moving in the right direction. He took all my vitals, gave me what appeared to be a good physical exam and then lifted my legs into the stirrups. I tried to adjust my head a little higher and as I did I was aware of movement across the room. It was fairly dark, but I could make out Bobby seated in a reclining chair.
Just as I noticed Bobby was still in the room, the doctor entered my vagina with his lubricated fingers. I lost all interest in Bobby as the doctor began to give me an internal examination. Humiliation was gone. For the next twenty minutes he drove me wild. I expected an internal exam. I had never had one. I had been told how necessary it was in health class. I thought it would be painful. I had never expected it to drive a woman wild. I gripped the side of the table and clenched my teeth as he worked. There were two places quite deep and one high near the entrance that he found right away and then repeatedly rubbed as he examined. It took me to convulsion. I gripped the sides of the table, my legs fanned in and out as and I lost track of how many times I moaned. I was actually having one small climax followed by another as he examined me. He had to know. Was this normal?
Humiliation only returned when he finished, smiled at me, and helped me to sit on the edge of the table and I tried to collect my thoughts as quickly as I could.
Next, Dr. Smith set about examining my breasts. Without a word, he gathered the hospital gown together in front of me and moved it completely to one side as he came up beside me and began to examine first one and then the other. His examination was very thorough, first concentrating on the mass of the breast and then in turn, each nipple. I could not sit still; my young body was actually jumping up and down.
“Young lady, I am sorry for the discomfort, but I need to have a good base line on the size and condition of your breasts.”
Discomfort—what did he mean? He was driving me mad.
His head dropped very close to my chest as his attention went back to my left breast. He had no idea what was really going on inside of me. They were so sensitive and he already had me so horny in spite of all the fear and anxiety. I struggled to contain the moans.
Finally, he brought my gown around me signaling the end of my examination.
Once he was finished the whole thing became somewhat reassuring. He really seemed to know what he was doing. I felt such a relief.
The lights came up a bit and I could now see not only Bobby but two other black guys seated across the room. When did they come in? Were they in here for the complete exam? A chill passed through me. Was I on display the whole time? No one said a word.
The Doctor moved back to his desk and I followed. There was no place to sit so I simply stood facing him wrapping the hospital gown around me in the back. Not a word for some time. He made a couple notes in a file and then looked up at me with a smile,
“Young woman, first the obvious, you are pregnant as you suspected. You are in your second trimester If your wish was to terminate I should have seen you sooner. This pregnancy has proceeded beyond the point where abortion or normal pharmacology would be indicated.
You really have just two options. One is for you to come under my care and carry this baby to term. That is the one I would recommend. Bobby has told me he would be able to support you and provide what you need, if that is what you would like to do.
If you are determined to terminate, your only choice would be to go through a six weeks program with Ella. I would provide you one pill each week and at the end of that time you would come into my office for one final visit to handle a couple things.”
I looked at him; my mind was a complete mess. Terrible guilt filled my eyes with tears. Memories of how cute and lovable those little black babies were at the mall. Jamal and I would have a beautiful baby. How could I do what I had to do?
In short this decision was all about my family. I had to think about how important I was to them. I had to think about what they had planned for my future. I was their only child. They held me in such high regard. This was a terrible mistake; how could I ever explain a black baby to my dad—my mother—my other relatives—their friends.
There was only one outcome acceptable, and there was only one way to achieve it.
“Can you give me the pills?”
Dr Smith looked at me with a smile,
“I can make them available for you if you are absolutely certain, that is the way you want to go. These pills are expensive but I understand Bobby has a way for you to bring the costs down. Has he told you about it? Do you understand what his option entails?
I nodded,
“Yes.”
What the hell, I knew what he meant, but it was my only way back to my normal life; the only way to return to a normal role in my family.
Are you absolutely sure termination is that what you desire?”
I simply nodded yes again.
“How soon can I start?”
My heart jumped with a quick feeling of horrible remorse; those cute black babies in the mall.

PROGRAM UNDERWAY

“I took the liberty of ordering the first of series when I heard of your problem. I have it here and the remainder will be available one at a time as you need them and they are paid for.”
I was elated. I had made the most difficult decision of my life, but it was made. I could go back to living my life as before. I scrubbed all guilt out of my mind. It was like a terrible weight had been taken off my shoulders.
Dr. Smith had set the whole thing up. I could have kissed him. He walked toward me with a pill and a glass of water and I downed it just like that. After all this worry all this guilt, I was underway. How easy after all I had been through all summer.
Dr Smith went on with his instructions. They were simple,
“First, you know what you are doing is illegal. Mention this program to no one, absolutely no one.
You are taking a powerful drug. If you experience any problems, do not go to a doctor or hospital—get back here and let Bobby know. He will get in touch with me immediately. For you safety and mine we need this disconnect. Bobby will be our point of contact. He will know where I am at all times until this is finished.
Next, you will need to be back here every Monday, Wednesday and Friday evening until we are finished. At each visit you will be checked. About once a week, depending on your tolerance, you will get the next in the series until all six pills have been taken. Then you will have a final visit at my outpatient clinic.
Any questions; is everything understood?”
I nodded.
I was elated. I cannot describe the weight taken from my shoulders. I was euphoric. Things were underway. The doctor nodded over toward Bobby and immediately, one of the black guys who had been in the back of the room, walked over took my hand and escorted me out of the room toward the stairs. I understood my contract with Bobby and Dr. Smith, but I did not know exactly when the rest of it began. Was I simply going to get dressed and be on my way? It would be so hollow, so anticlimactic, to simply walk out and go home.
Without a word, he led me up a staircase. I was wearing just the embarrassing hospital gown, completely nude underneath. He held my right hand firmly and seemed to hurry along as I struggled to keep the back of the gown closed with my left. At the top of the steps he turned me into a room and led me across to a bed.
We stopped beside the bed where he simply lifted the hospital gown from my shoulders and pointed for me to lie down. I was completely nude. I was so thrilled that the program had started. I was on such a high. I knew full well how expensive all this was. I lay down flat on my back all the time looking at him with a smile.
An undeniable euphoric thrill started to grow deep in my tummy. I knew what was coming and I was so ready for it. I lay there, lost in thought watching him undress and get ready to fuck me.
Bobby was right about me. I was this “type “of girl. I had done the crime for a cheap thrill. I had gotten away with the crime by using my sex, and had to admit I got an intense thrill doing that. It was very scary and worrisome to find out Jamal had impregnated me, but all that stuff as well provided erotic thrills. Now, I was all set up to solve that problem and it was thrilling as well.
He was looking down with a very hungry gaze,
“I’m the guy who paid your doctor bill today and got this started little lady.”
I lay there watching, fully realizing that each time he threw a garment on the chair I went higher. I knew what was coming. I was grateful for what he had done for me. I was ready to pay my bill.
One after another my tensions and concerns had been completely replaced by undeniable sexual desire. Maybe it was my pregnancy—maybe the doctor’s examination—but I realized I was squirming in the bed over-the-top horny as I waited for him.
The last item he removed were black boxer shorts which released his phallus. He was enormous and very ready. A shudder passed through me. It was pure sexual desire. A silly thought passed by me—there was no way he could harm me. He sure could not get me pregnant and I was very experienced handling weapons like this.
He came up over me as I lay on my back, lifted both my knees into the missionary position, placed the head of his penis against me, and simply lowered onto me and into me. No pain. I was very well lubricated from the exam. A shudder went through me from head to toe—a small immediate climax. This man was part of the solution not part of the problem. I wanted him happy. He was paying my bill. He was making my return to normalcy possible.
My arms went up to encircle him, I arched upward to meet his strokes, and his climaxes came quickly and loudly. With each of his deposits into me I could feel my vagina tightening around him.
For the next two hours I paid my bill to this black man. Together we quickly set up a routine with my body. Time and time again he would finish with one climax, moan, lift up, smile down at me and then gently start again. He was so gentle, and so caring. It seemed like he was more concerned that I have a loving good experience than anything else. I responded more and more lovingly as he worked. I had to. I was lost in his sexing me.
Why in erotic moments do I always start counting? Six times he delivered massively and deeply. Six times I responded with uncontrollable convulsion and contraction.
A strange sensation started to occur each time he lifted to look down at me. A pulsing sensation would pass through my breasts. At first I thought it was because his weight was removed for a moment but about the third time he lifted I realized my breasts were damp. I was starting to lactate.
He felt it also. His lips went down and found my breasts one after the other. He moaned, looked up at me, and whispered,
“My baby, you feel so good inside and now you taste so good on the outside.”
He smiled and went back to my right breast.
He had to be aware of my arms embracing his head as he enjoyed me. I knew he had to be; I could not release him. Erotic feeling came over me from all directions. I had never paid a lot of attention to my breasts. Before Jamal, they were not one of my outstanding features, but now they were. The sensations they sent through me were completely new, wild, electric and completely captivating. I could not release his head as he enjoyed them.
At the same time, he continued to sex me. He alternated between my breasts while maintaining a gently rhythm in my vagina. Time after time the pace of his stroke would quicken, he would release my breast for a while and drive into me to provide a surge deep in my body. I would feel my vagina pulsating around him in response to all he was doing.
I lost track of everything until he finally turned me to his side.
Slowly he moved me downward until his now flaccid penis was presented to my lips. I had never touched a penis. I had actually never seen one before I saw Bobbie six weeks ago.
I have touched one now. I did everything he suggested. His pill was working to solve my problem and I was working to pay for it. It tasted strangely; wet, salty,
Our session ended when he put me on my back again, lifted my legs over his shoulders such that his quite flaccid unit could still find good depth as he delivered a final time.
Finished, he lifted from me, knelt between my legs and looked down into my eyes,
“You are one fine lover, girl. I mean it. I never had anything so good, before, by a long shot.”
He gently lay back down on my right side and I encircled his black kinky head and drew him closer to my breast.
He kissed the side of it gently and looked up into my eyes,
“You are wonderful sugar…I tell you this has been the best loving I ever had!”
He went on and on. He was sincere. An undeniable thrill passed through me. I had made love with my third big black guy. I had paid my bill as required and to beat all—he honestly thought I was absolutely great. His compliments continued for some time as he rested at my side encircled by my arms gently kissing my damp breast.
I looked down at him cradled to my right breast and was shocked at the feelings of love—true unmitigated love—that began to pass through me. I gently rubbed the back of his neck with my free hand as he suckled me like a little black child.
Finally it was clear he was asleep. I had made love to a complete stranger and I had been turn on every minute. I was one well sexed girl and free to go. I had paid my bill.
I slipped out of the bed leaving him breathing heavily. In the semidarkness I was unstable, but I found the hospital gown and slipped out of the room and down the stairs. The steps came down into the front hall toward the front of the house. My dress and sweater were thrown in a heap on one of the big chairs in the dark living room. No one was around and neither were my panties.
Ten minutes later I was dressed and out the back door. Thirty minutes after that I was pulling into the garage at home. The house was quiet. It was just ten. Mother was probably still at the card party. I undressed in my bedroom. My dress and sweater were unsoiled; they went back in the closet. No reason to raise any suspicions by putting anything in the wash.
I walked nude into the bathroom and turned in front of the full length mirror. Regardless of all the tension I had been under, I looked surprisingly radiant. My breasts were definitely larger, and fuller, but they were amazingly attractive. A gentle touch and a quick flashback to this evening brought moisture. My tummy was actually cute. Prior to Shoplifting I always thought I was too flat…the athletic type. Now I had an attractive little shape there.
Standing there in front of the mirror, my right hand found my sex. My blonde pubic hair had always been quite thin. Gently, my fingers spread my vulva and found my clitoris. I was wet, tender and easily opened. Previously, there was no way I could do this without effort and discomfort. I was a woman now for sure. I was a very attractive pregnant young woman. An intense feeling of satisfaction came over me. I had met the test.
The shower felt good. I washed every inch enjoying the feel of the warm water running down my body. After a long shower, I dried with a large towel and carefully dried.
Finished in the bathroom, I fixed my pony tail at the dresser, found a clean pair of white panties and tumbled into bed.
My last effort was to reach for my phone and leave a message for my mother telling her I was not spending the night with Cybil. I explained that I was really tired and needed a good night’s sleep. And, that is exactly what I got; one night of good, deep, dark, wonderful sleep. No nightmares, no erotic fantasies, just dark good sleep. The progress I had made with Bobby’s program had very positive effects right away.
I was up early the next morning dressed and ready for the world. I felt great. Things were underway and I could see daylight at the end of the tunnel; the end of the terror that had plagued me for weeks.
My work for the Wish Foundation was pretty simple. It was an all white group of older ladies that found such reward in helping the poorest of the poor. Our “customers” were almost all black or mixed. For the first time I took notice of how many overweight white women came in with biracial babies. Each time one walked through the door my heart leaped and then settled as I reminded myself that I was not going to be one of them, I was on the program with Doctor Smith.
On the other hand, I would also see the little kids. The little half-breeds were always so cute. Each one of them raised the question for me—had I done the right thing? Bobby wanted me to keep it. He would have supported me to keep things going.
I would beat these guilty feeling out by thinking about my family, their life style, all the hopes and dreams my parents had for my life, college, marriage, their only grandchildren….
Wednesday night came quite slowly. By the time the two days had passed I was ready for a little reassurance that things were going right. I felt fine. In fact, the little bit of nausea I had been feeling each morning had stopped; that had to be a good sign.
Dad was traveling and knowing the routine at Bobby’s place a little better, I simply told mother I was going to the mall and might catch a bite with friends after it closed at ten.
My Mustang knew the way to Bobby’s house; at least the GPS did. I could not control a euphoric feeling; I had only good things to report. I was tolerating the medicine just fine. There is no way to describe how much braver I am in my Mustang, when things are going good and I know my way.
I looked good. I had chosen another short skirt and thin blouse with a very thin bra. It was small, it offered little support, but it really emphasized my attractive breasts. I stood in front of the mirror to fix my pony tail.
This was stuff I liked to wear and I knew men liked the way I looked in it. I enjoyed the attention I got wearing clothing like this. It turned me on.
Bobby would like it and he needed a thank you from a very grateful gal who was now in a very positive frame of mind.
As I pulled down West Branch I glanced down into my lap. No question this skirt was short, even shorter than the one last Monday night; no question, I was sporting a cute little tummy, and no question my breast were much larger. I shuddered all over with a sexual energy. As this feeling passed through me I could feel a slight dampness at my nipples. I was lactating. I wondered if that was a side reaction to the powerful medicine I was taking. I made a mental note to ask the doctor.
The same young black guy with the flashlight was there to send me back along the house. Once parked, he opened the door and led me up the back steps; but this time we went straight through the back room and down the hall to the front room. The furniture had been rearranged; no exam table and in its place was a comfortable couch. Two younger black guys were seated one on either end. Bobbie was in a big lounge chair across the room.
The young guy led me to the middle of the room. He then turned and departed back outside.
Bobby greeted me with flattery,
“Caroline! Gracious girl you look good enough to eat. What a wonderful addition you make to a quiet evening. Turn around so we can see your good looks.”
I slowly turned.
The two guys across the room moved forward on the couch. They didn’t say a word, but their eyes grew wider with lust with each turn I made.
Bobbie stood up and walked toward me with a smile,
“Is the doctor here?”
I asked as I turned to meet him.
“No doctor tonight; the doctor will only be here once a week, when you get another pill, or if thing don’t go right. His house call is expensive you know. I have not heard from you so I assume things are going good; am I right?
I looked at him, not completely surprised by his comments,
“Everything seems to be going fine. I‘ve had no problems.”
With that he took my hand and slowly started to turn me again in the center of the room. The lights dimmed a bit: thank goodness. I was on display and I knew my embarrassment was clearly showing. This was totally weird. I was just eighteen, pregnant by a black guy and being put on display in front of a couple black guys who held the financial key to my returning to a normal life. I could feel my lower body responding. This display was causing little spasms and moisture.
In the background I could hear some soft Lou Rawls black music. It was the same music that was playing during my examination. Time after time Bobby slowly turned me and each time I came around the guys on the couch appeared to have moved closer. The couch hadn’t moved. It was just my mental elusion.
“Rashid and Amyl work night security over at Mallmart.”
Bobby explained.
He turned me one final time to face them directly and stopped.
“I invited them over to meet you. They think they might want to pay some on your medical bills. What do you think about that?”
I smiled at Bobby and whispered,
“I would be very grateful. Thank You”
He stopped me facing them across the room.
“It would be good if we convinced them, don’t you think?”
I struggled to look up from the floor and smile across at them,
“Thank you, for coming.”
I offered quietly.
I looked back at Bobby. He turned me to face him and I could see that he was pleased. He took both of my hands and brought me toward him,
“Let’s show them what this is all about?”
He offered as he embraced me, consumed my mouth, and drove his tongue into me.
It was like he knew me. He knew what my reaction would be. My moan was muffled only by his deep kiss.
He continued to hold me tightly in this position as his arms moved downward. His right hand dropped behind me to my bare legs and brought my skirt up in the back. His left hand found the top of my panties and lowered them down the back of my legs until they dropped to the floor. I moaned once more as he began to dance slowly again. In the semi darkness he had my best asset, bare, and fully on display for these two strangers.
I trembled from head to toe. My knees felt weak. He steadied me. I could not see the reaction across the room behind me anymore, but I knew full well what this was doing.
I stood there shaking when he released me and came around behind. His arms encircled me again and slowly he rotated me until I faced them still seated across the room. He stopped and with his right hand he raised the front of my skirt to my waist. I knew my bare sex was now on display for them. I could hear these two guys murmur something to one another.
Step by step Bobby moved me forward across the room toward the couch and the seated young blacks. I could feel the pressure of his erection firmly on my back.
“Well lads, have you ever seen anything quite so cute?”
He asked quietly,
“I’ll bet you’ve never touched a white girl on the arm let alone the pussy. Look at that; hair so soft and so thin it doesn’t even cover her. Would you like to give it a little kiss for me Rashid?”
I had been looking past them to the wall behind until I saw this Rashid drop to his knees directly in front of me. His right hand came up between my upper thighs to bring me toward him. His fingers, his lips, his tongue caressed and I convulsed in ecstasy. Bobby held my upper body against him firmly as my convulsion cause me to double forward.
Finally, Bobby pulled me away from the kneeling Rashid,
“Oh my lad, look what you’ve done. You got something started that needs attention now. Right, Caroline?”
As I tried to speak an uncontrolled moan escaped my lips. I could not say a word. This was too much.
Bobby stood me beside him and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. My skirt fell back into place. He knew the deal was well underway,
“Well guys. Bobby is going to take Caroline upstairs. I will be down shortly. For right now, just relax down here a bit.”
The show was over. Bobby turned me until I faced the door to the hall. With his arm firmly wrapped around my shoulders he led me out and up the stairs to the bedroom. I was grateful for the physical support. Erotic energy had taken over. My legs were weak.
I had already felt Bobby’s erection firmly against me. I knew he was got a real pleasure out of all this. It almost seemed like he was prolonging the inevitable. It seemed like he put everything in slow motion. He really enjoyed his work,
“Glad to hear there are no problems with that pill.”
He looked at me with a big smile as we moved across the bedroom. Why would he bring that up now?
“That Jamal sure is one handsome dude, girl. You are one beautiful young pregnant momma.”
Why would he call me that when this whole thing was to put that behind me? Had he slipped? A surge of complex emotion caused me to choke a bit. This program was underway. Why would he be selling me on how handsome Jamal was? That was obvious, but it should not matter anymore. I will most likely never see him again.
He sat down on the edge of the bed with me standing in front of him.
“Your front is a real joy.”
He continued to talk as he lifted my top. I reacted. My arms went over my head automatically.
“Oh my sugar, I sure do like these.”
He half whispered as he released my bra. He took the bra away from me quickly allowing my breast to drop freely. I know he did it on purpose. An unnerving awareness came over me.
For the first time I was really aware of how much heavier they were. My breasts felt so much bigger and fuller as he kissed one and then the other. He fondled them and brought them together to kiss them more vigorously. Shudder after shudder passed through my body. I felt erotic dampness beginning.
My arms automatically brought him to me.
A strange reaction came over me; my breasts were so sensitive, so heavy—they were an erotic product of my shoplifting. I pang of disappointed passed over me—hollow feeling, as I realized that this would return to normal with the pills.
I quickly forced myself to put it all back into perspective as Bobby pulled me closer to stand right in front of him. While still sucking my right nipple, he unbuttoned my skirt and let it fall to the floor. I was nude, my panties were downstairs somewhere.
He spread my legs one on either side of his. Both his hands went to my bare behind as he pulled me directly into him. His lips released my breast and dropped to my exposed sex. In one quick lick upward he separated me and took a firm hold of my clitoris. He looked up into my eyes while holding it tightly, and then he tugged. I moaned. He tugged, I moaned again. I was overcome. He tugged again. I moaned again and double over pulling his head in against me. No way could I let him pull that again. He released, I could not. Convulsions, contractions, spasms; completely new uncontrollable reactions over came me. My young sex had just release a torrent. His tongue started at the very bottom and came upward consuming.
“My, my sugar you taste good! You don’t want to get Bobby’s rug wet do you?”
He laughed.
He turned me so I sat beside him on the bed.
He whispered directly in my ear,
“You be a real good girl now.”
He picked up my clothes and left the room.
I collapsed backward onto the bed literally convulsing. I had lost all control. I struggled to move up onto the bed and find the sheet. Unable, I fell absolutely nude in the middle of the bed. My entire lower body was shaking with one tremor followed by another. I was gasping for breath. He had taken me somewhere I had never been and left me there absolutely wild. I was in an erotic daze. I cannot describe the pure sexual need that had taken control of me.
It was fairly dark in the room. I saw movement at the doorway. I was out of my mind, but I knew what was next. I needed it so badly. A thin very tall black male sat on the edge of the bed and whispered,
“Hey girl, I’m Rashid from the Mallmart. Bobby said you were ready for me to come up and say hello.”
He rattled on. I could tell he was really nervous.
He turned and lay down beside me. His clothes were gone and he was so ready, but clearly he was scared.
A realization came over me. Never in my life could I admit it, but I needed what he had so badly. Bobby had made sure of that. Bobby had taken me to the very edge. He had skillfully driven my erotic desires to a very pinnacle and left me perched right there, literally gasping, and waiting, with desire. He knew in this condition I would produce the results he wanted.
I reached over found Rashid arm and pulled him on top of me.
Now there was no question he was ready—very ready. I could immediately tell he was very young and inexperienced, but he was very, very ready.
I moved until he was perfectly aligned against me and then I pulled him downward forcefully bringing him into me. I felt my vagina constrict around him as an unmitigated sexual thrill overcame me.
I was ravenous. My sexual desires were out of control. I needed him, I needed this.
The program was underway. My problem would soon be behind me and if this is what was required to pay the bills, I could sure handle it. I climaxed enormously.
I lay there holding him tightly, panting into his ear. He lifted and looked down at me,
“What the fuck girl. You are out of control.”
I smiled up at his black face and gently released him allowing him to move. His stroke was hesitant, gentle and shallow. It took only ten minutes or so until he came, twelve plunges deep into me. I responded to him each time, climax after climax. He was finished. I had taken on my forth nigger.
We hugged and kissed.
He whispered softly in my ear,
“You are something. I want you to know you were my very first. Bobby told me you would be out of this world, a very good place to start. He was right. That Jamal sure did us a good one with you, girl.”
I hugged him in response. I knew what he would want to hear,
“I need you so badly Rashid, You were so very good.”
We hugged some more. I kissed him gently time after time. He kissed my breasts, my neck, and then my lips in return.
Finally, he whispered goodbye, moved out of the bed, put his clothes on in the hall and disappeared in the darkness.
This young black guy had been very young and very quick but he sure had come fully loaded and now I could sense I was as well. A quick touch told me all of what he had given me had been tightly retained deep in my body. He was young, I was young, but our bodies had responded like mature lovers and all he had given me had been deposited and sealed deeply in my vagina. Bobby’s bed did not suffer.
What was next? I sat up and turned to the side of the bed. It was completely dark now and the room had only a little light from the hall. I knew my clothes were gone. I felt good. My muscles quickly told me I had responded well to the exercise.
As I sat there a strange contented feeling passed over me. It started, I am sure, with the sexual satisfaction but it also had to do with a new understanding of the entire program which would take me back to normalcy. It was comforting to know the program was underway—all decisions were made—I had now experienced all aspects of the program—and I could handle it well.
I struggled for a moment trying to deny how turned on I had been, that for sure was not normal for a girl my age. I must be some kind of a weirdo to be in this circumstance and be like I was—and still was. I sat there on the edge of the bed looking down at my enlarged breasts and tummy and I realized I did not dare touch myself. I was already going back up the hill. How could this be? Finally, I said an audible “shucks” and let it pass from my mind. Bobby was right. I was the type of girl that needed this erotic shit for sure.
I made my way into the bathroom, washed up a little in the sink, and came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around me under my arms. I examined closets and behind doors and in the dark I could find nothing to wear. I stood up nude and moved toward the hall and the bathroom.

REASSURANCE

As I came down the stairs I could hear the Lou Rawls’ music and some quiet conversation and laughter coming from the front room. I moved along the hall in the dark. The lights were low in the front room. It took a minute adjust. The two young black guys were gone and two white women were here. One sat on the couch with Bobbie the other in a big chair.
Bobby got up as soon as he saw me enter and turned me back toward the hall where he handed me my skirt and blouse from a chair. He took my towel while I slid into my clothes.
“Bobby, do you know where my panties are? I might need them.”
He smiled
Not right now lover, there is too much on my mind to think about panties. You are a very special lady. I have a couple people here I want you to get to know before you go.”
With that he turned me toward the front room.
“Hey ladies, let me introduce you to Caroline. Caroline is a very special girl with a little bump problem you understand.”
He turned to face me,
“Sugar, these ladies are very close with me here. They help with all kind of things. I want them to catch up with you and what’s going on. For starters, tell them why you’re down here in the hood getting help from Bobby.”
I stood there in silence.
Humiliation came over me. I just had to assume they knew everything. Bobby just wanted the entertainment of listening to me tell them. I could feel dampness down between my upper legs. This skirt was so short; my blouse was so thin; it was embarrassing to stand in front of women in this condition; much more so than men. They knew where I had been and Bobby had most likely told them all about me.
Bobby looked at me sternly. I could tell he was really into this.
“Well let’s go Caroline. I want you to tell these ladies what you did and why you are here. They are on my team. No secrets at Bobby’s place.”
I could feel my face turning red. I needed Bobbie happy. He was the key to everything. If he got pissed at me, I was really out in the cold. If this was the entertainment he wanted, I had to oblige.
Step by step, I stood there and told the story; shoplifting, paying with sex to avoid jail, pregnancy; and even how I was helping to pay for it. Nothing I said seemed to surprise them, but I could sense the excitement. They were enjoying my story, my plight. I was entertaining them for sure.
As I finished Bobby got up and came over to point me to the straight chair by the desk. The next twenty minutes were surprising.
Bobby introduced the ladies. Donna and Nancy were both in their mid-thirties, married with children. Both were nurses. Both knew Dr Smith and used him as an OBGYN. Bobby had asked them to stop over tonight to meet me and check up on things. What a good idea. The whole thing just made sense and it made me feel great.
Nancy got up and asked me to follow her down the hall. Once we were seated in the back room she asked me a series of question about how I was responding to the pill. In short I told her; no nausea, no fever, some tiredness, some tenderness, lactation, and still some additional swelling in the tummy.
She offered me encouragement. Assured me that this program worked well, nothing I had reported was unusual; all seemed to be right on track. She asked a couple questions about what I was eating and my weight gain. She then reconfirmed if I had any concerns or questions I should get a hold of Bobby.
Finished with the clinical part, we started to talk like friends for a while.
She confided that she had met Bobby when she needed the same program, and she had agreed to the same form of payment because she had to keep it all from her husband. She was very pleased with the outcome.
She went on to tell me Donna’s case was the same. Donna had been practically a newlywed when she got pregnant by a black coworker. She had come to Bobby for help and everything had worked out fine.
They had both become attracted to Bobby and his crazy (her word) life style. It was such a contrast to the boring existence they had at home. They came here often to help Bobby with things.
I felt very encouraged when she finished.
The fact that they had found Bobby so exciting they had continued to come down to see him, was scary but understandable. It explained some feeling of mine that were scaring the shit out of me. There were moments when I felt like I was becoming addicted to this.
I confessed some of these feelings to Nancy after watering them down considerably. She smile,
“Caroline no one understands better than I do. He is an exciting guy and I will tell you he thinks the world of you. So enjoy.”
As we returned down the hall toward the front room I could clearly here muffled sounds from upstairs. Donna was missing. When I asked about her, Nancy just smiled and continued down the hall. I knew immediately what was going on. I just returned her smile. It was a confirmation that we both understood the attraction and addiction of Bobby’s place.
Nancy said good night and headed up the stairs.
Bobby took me by the hand over toward the couch.
“Well little lady how do you feel about it all?”
I looked at him and smiled,
“I am so relieved I can’t tell you. Thank you for having her come here and talk to me. It was reassuring to talk to another woman. She confirmed how lucky I am to have your help. I’m so grateful you are here for me.”
I know I was rattling on a bit euphoric, but I really appreciated the reassurance Nancy had provided.
While I was talking Bobby had sat down and brought me down to sit straddling his lap, facing him. With the short skirt I knew things were completely on display for him. He lifted my top and I willingly raised my arms as he removed it. My bare breasts were positioned right where he had full access to them. He consumed my right nipple. Immediately, I moaned uncontrollably as my arms encircled his head to bring him to me. He literally began to nurse my nipples one after the other as he held both breasts tightly together. Dampness told me I was lactating freely. His shirt was open. His grip got firmer and I watched as my free breast would literally spray his black chest as he consumed the other one. He worked feverishly, first with one and then the other. Back and forth his hands and his enormous lips worked and my breasts responded with a surprising quantity. For the first time, I was amazed at how large and dark my nipple had become.
Finally, he pulled back still holding both breasts firmly,
“I think you need more loving little lady. That young Rashid just did not get the complete job done. Am I right?”
I looked at him and nodded.
He smiled.
“Girl, I asked you a question. Am I right, you are still a horny little bitch?”
I pulled him toward me and told the truth,
“Yes Bobby. I am. I need more. I need you.”
I could tell as his expression changed, I was saying exactly the right thing.
It was so easy. I lifted up from his lap. He reached down between us to lower his athletic shorts and guide me as I settled down onto his enormous erection. I was so lubricated from what he had done earlier and then Rashid; he smoothly went to the limit inside me. I sat impaled on him holding him tightly to my breasts. I could feel my vagina jumping constricting on him. I could feel him responding. His big black hands brought my breasts solidly to each side of his face. I could see my lactation flowing freely down his neck on either side.
One hand on each, he lifted my breasts to the limit—held them there as he smiled at me—then let them drop heavily. I moaned loudly and grabbed to bring him to me. I held him tightly caught in the ultimate ultimatum. It was a sensation I will never forget. I did not want that to happen again—I needed that attention so badly.
My body needed more, much more, but I realized he could not move with me sitting there binding him to me, it was all up to me.
He moaned out loud as I finally realized I need to release him. One more time he lifted my breast, but not nearly so high. He let them drop and I clung to him as I went to work.
In the next twenty minutes I learned what a wonderful position this was for a woman. Sitting astride him he had complete access to my sensitive swollen breasts while, with just the slightest changes in direction I could put the pleasures down below right where I wanted them; right where the doctor had been during the examination.
For ten minutes I consumed him as he sat very still, repeatedly lifting and dropping my breasts while letting me work. I climaxed five times and on the fifth he unloaded upward. What wonderful sensation; I knew right where he was, I had put him there; so each time he pumped he hit exactly where he should. I was his woman; I was taking his loading right where I wanted it, directly against my cervix. A strange possessive euphoria came over me as I worked on top of him.
As we were finally finishing, I became aware of movement across the darkened room. Amyl and Donna were sitting quietly. How much they had seen I did not know; I really did not care. I only knew I had found something very special with Bobby. For the first time I used a man to achieve exactly what I wanted and needed.
I struggled to stand and I reached to bring Bobby to his feet.
Once standing, he helped me put my blouse back on and together we walked toward the back door. I could feel my heavy breasts moving with each step. His dropping routine had made them so sensitive.
My blouse became damp and cool. He refused to give me my panties, but he embraced me and gave me an enormous deep kiss at the door.
I walked out into the cool night aware, once again aware of the sounds and sights of numerous black faces moving about the hood.
My car seemed strangely empty.
The trip home provided time to think. It was amazing how far I had come. My body had adjusted in so many ways and now my mind was adjusting as well. I was lost in the excitement of this situation. I had to admit it. I was a different woman. I looked down at the obvious tummy bump and a strange confused feeling passed through me.
I walked in from the garage to find mother sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee. I was alarmed. It seemed she was looking me over from head to foot as I moved across the room. I was so nervous. My panties were with Bobby and I sure needed them now for security. It is such an exposed feeling without panties, but a feeling I had grown to know quite well.
“Honey, that skirt and top are way too small for you. Don’t wear that outfit again. Have you checked your weight recently? I really think you have gained. Maybe it is your time of the month. We have got to buy you some new things this weekend. We would be embarrassed if our friends saw you dressed like this.”
Mother just went on and on.
I responded with only positive comments and took a glass of milk to sit at the table which would hide me a little. Mother started to talk about Kyle. Her questions were normal, but I could tell she was probing to determine if we had been more intimate. My mother is such a sweet lady, very conservative, very white, and very naive. If she knew even half of what had come into my life it would kill her. I ended the conversation with a very noncommittal comment,
“Ever since we graduated, Kyle and I have drifted apart a bit. We both think it is best as we are headed off to college in a couple months.”
I could see relief on my mother’s face as I turned and headed for my bedroom.
I used the toilet and was again amazed at how my lower body had changed. Rashid and Bobbie had both loaded me, I mean really loaded me, but for the most part, even now, every sperm they had deposited seemed to be tightly sealed inside me. My climaxes and contractions had stopped any escape. I could tell I was very tight.
After a good warm shower I crawled into bed. I was thinking two things—I had read that pregnancy makes a woman much more easily stimulated—and I was amazed at how I had learned to use that enormous phallus of Bobby’s to take care of my needs so efficiently. I was contented, relaxed, and tired.
Sound sleep came quickly and Thursday morning came early.
I felt great. I went to the charity to work as normal. Things were good. My program was underway and running smoothly. Paying for it was the big surprise. As I did the mundane chores at Wish Foundation I more and more realized how much I actually looked forward to returning to the excitement of Bobby.

BOBBY AGAIN

My Mustang took me to West Branch Street faithfully the next Friday night as required. I was ready to go. My life at home was quite a drag compared with the attention I was given here in the hood. I got more excited with each mile I drove. There were so many complex thing associated with coming down here. Every one of them scary, but the positive answers were here as well. I was jumping around inside as I drove back behind Bobby’s house.
The same young black met me and took me into the house. We went directly back to the living room. It was quite dark as usual. Bobby greeted me there and reintroduced Amyl who I had met on a previous trip down. Bobby and I sat down on the couch together and I got a question and answer period with him. I was a big embarrassing with another black male sitting there listening but I had nothing new to report; I felt great. There were numerous things that had popped into my head during the week—little doubts and such, that I might have mentioned had we been alone. I did report my mother thought I was gaining weight. Bobby smiled and acknowledged that some weight gain was normal. He asked a couple questions and actually made notes for his follow up discussion with the doctor.
All told we only talked for ten minutes. Amyl being there had stifled the conversation for sure, and Bobby was obviously in a hurry. My check-up was not the main event.
Finished with the conversation Bobby left Amyl down watching a basketball game while he took me up to again vandalized my clitoris. What he did can only be described as erotic magic nothing less. Like before he gently removed my skirt and blouse then turned me to face the bed. As before he sat on the edge of the bed, drew me to stand directly in front of him and then consume me. Like Wednesday night, his tongue came up along my lips parting them until he drove his tongue into my body, time after time. It ended when he came all the way up to literally consume my clitoris between his lips and teeth. I moaned. He seemed to redouble his effort as I double over with a climax to end all climaxes. He drew in harder and harder. I moaned louder as I bent over him convulsing and climaxing again and again. I looked down watching my breasts lactate freely into his kinky black hair without being touched. Just this arousal was causing me to flow freely.
Finally, he released me and came up to draw on my right breast to the point it seemed he had consumed it entirely. He held it looking up into my eyes while I drained as he desired. I knew this time exactly what he was doing. I knew what to expect. I could not stop shuddering with an anticipation I wanted to deny.
When he finally had me exactly where he wanted me, he stood up, leaving me seated on the edge of the bed. As expected he walked out leaving the door open and the lights turned down. We both fully understood what was next and we both knew I was ready. I made no effort to find the sheet as I fell backward onto the bed. I lay nude, flat on my back. I could not keep my legs still. I could not stop my lower body from jumping around.
Almost immediately, Amyl came into the room just as Rashid had on Wednesday night. He was undressed when he entered. He came to the bed and crawled on top of me. My legs automatically spread outward and upward to his bidding. Right away it was evident, he knew much more about he was doing than Rashid.
He had sort of a sinister look,
“Bobby told me to get up here—that you were ready for plenty of loving. Is he right?”
I looked up and quietly whispered,
“Yes!”
I pulled him downward toward me.
He began to lower himself onto me, he smiled,
“Girl, I tell you with all that noise he had you making up here, I had to wonder…”
That was the last thing Amyl said Friday night.
For reasons you now understand, I was wild, lubricated, and very tight. My vagina consumed him with a series of uncontrolled constrictions and releases as I drew him downward. Bobby had assured I was fully ready, possessed by overwhelming needs.
It took several strokes until I felt his warmth had arrived deep in my vagina. That was all it took for Amyl. He delivered fifteen lunging surges into me the moment he got all the way to my cervix. His semen was warm and his rope hit the tender entry to my womb violently. Time after time he delivered and time after time I responded to his delivery. Finally, he moaned, delivered one more violent thrust deep into my body and relaxed.
He lay directly on top of me as if he was in a different world. My right arm surrounded his kinky head as I turned us together to the right and my left hand directed my breast to his lips. He began nursing like a baby. To my alarm and dismay I could actually feel relief as he worked. It was clear I was producing more milk than before. A brief concern passed. What about these pills? It seemed like my breasts were moving in the wrong direction.
My momentary concern passed quickly as he rested and nursed at my breast. It was replaced by a feeling of relief and accomplishment. I had taken on my fifth black guy for sure. Why had if become such a kinky pleasure to keep track.
He kept working my breast and my body responded with one quiet pulsation after another. He felt good, and innocent, and childlike as I held him. Time passed as Amyl moved from one breast to the other. I finally began to calm a bit as my passions began to subside.
Sometime later I awoke to find Amyl was gone. I got up slowly and went down with just my skirt and blouse on. The front room was quiet and dark. I could just make out the images of a couple blacks lying on the gigantic pillows in the middle of the floor. I could not make out Bobby. No one stirred. I concluded my evening was over. I had paid all my bills.
I drove home dressed as I was; skirt and blouse, nothing else. For reasons I could not understand, I felt lonely. I had to admit I was missing the whole thing at Bobby’s. It was like my entire existence was there in the hood until this was over. It was the only place I felt safe and desired.
Tonight I had worn a new longer pleated skirt, and a new larger top that my mother had just bought. They were both in good shape. They had been neatly folded on the chair in the bedroom all evening and they did not get messed up on the way home.
My parents were out. I made my way to the bedroom after a little snack in the kitchen. For reasons I could not explain, I no longer wanted to shower when I was finished at Bobby’s. I liked everything about how I smelled and felt and I wanted it to stay with me during the night. My last thoughts were of Amyl’s black hair, encircle in my right arm, as he calmly consumed from my breast.

My weekends always moved so slowly, I was bored every minute. There was nothing happening; nothing to think about except the two subjects that dominated my life. The “program” which was bringing my life back to normal; and the wild array of new exotic feelings and emotions which I did not want admit, but which I did not want to go away.
As this weekend started I realized that only one of these was dominating my every waking moment—nothing would take the erotic thoughts out of my mind. Every quiet moment; and there were lots of them, the adventures at Bobby’s dominated my thinking and replaced any concerns I had about pregnancy and the procedure.
Physically, the sex had become captivating. My young body had adjusted readily to what I much later in life learned were enormous Negro units. I had an aching need for what they did to me. I craved the activity. Life was so boring at home, but not when I was at Bobby’s. I found I was eagerly waiting for each trip down to the hood. Three times a week had become easy to arrange at home. Things were running smoothly with the pill. Other than gaining weight I was as healthy as could be.
The whole subject of intercourse had taken on new meaning. All my early years, whenever I thought about sex it was in the context of love and marriage. He would be just the right guy; I would be the cute, young virgin in white. We would be married. It was going to be so right and then it would be so grand. Now, my shoplifting and the consequences required that I adjust to a completely different viewpoint. Now I was a tramp, nothing more, and beyond that, I had to acknowledge that the sex and all Bobby put with it, had become more than just a means to an end. It was absolutely captivating. I was, as Bobby had called me from the first—that “type” of girl. My early childhood concepts of love and all that stuff went out the window when I shoplifted and got knocked up staying out of jail. Sex was completely differently, now. I craved it.
Each of these black guys—and I had now had twenty two of them paying for the program—came to me for one purpose. They were there to fuck me. In most cased they were older and knew for sure what they wanted from a woman. It was strange though when we were done—in each and every case—I was in love with them in a very carnal, corporeal, caring way. They had paid my bills, but I had received so much more.
DOUBTS

It was the fourth weekend of the program and I calculated I was just a couple weeks from the end. The weekend started ok. I really felt fine. I was bored. I drummed up some things to keep me busy and on Saturday afternoon I even wiped out my car.
But, sometime Sunday concerns started really work on my mind. At first, I decided I really needed to keep busier. I had two big closets filled with clothing yet I could find nothing that really fit and hid my condition any longer. My folks had been around home all week so I had little privacy. My friends were all committed to family or summer jobs so I had no one to go out with. I called Kyle; he was working out of town. I sat watching endless hours of TV wearing some baggy sweat pants and a T-shirt.
Slowly, all the erotic temptations of the activities at Bobby’s were swept from my mind by an enormous elephant—the ever growing concern that this “program” was not working.
Every time I looked in a mirror I looked more pregnant. I was developing a real baby bump and my breasts were enormous and painful.
Each time I sat still I began trying to count all the days since Mallmart one more time just like I had before. That would end with the helpless feeling that timing no longer mattered. The only thing that mattered was Bobbie’s program.
I waited, impatiently, for Monday evening and another session at Bobby’s. I knew as that got closer the excitement there would get the other things off my mind, but all the free time over the weekend was a killer. I gave me way too much time to just worry.
Monday morning I bowed out of working at the charity. Tonight I would return to Bobby’s, but this time anticipating the erotic activities was not pushing away all that was bothering me. Last night had turned out long, worrisome, and sleepless. I was ready to go back to Bobby tonight. I was eagerly anticipating that there was only one more week after this one, but that made me think too logically about the whole thing. Nothing was happening to me. I was taking the pills as instructed, but there was not one indication they were doing anything.
I needed to talk to someone other than Bobby and his guys. I needed reassurances in the daylight from someone as much in the middle of this as me. I needed to talk to Jamal.
Opening time at Mallmart was ten and I was entering the door. I was wearing a summer dress that was really cute if belted, but on this trip it hung loosely. As such, it hid my tummy pretty well, but it was impossible to hide the size of my breasts. I could hardly button the top.
There were two security guys at the door I did not recognize. I walked into the store a short way and then turned back to the entrance. On the second circuit I summoned all my courage and asked one of the guards if Jamal was working. He wanted to know why. I told him I was a friend. He looked up and down my body at least twice before he told me that Jamal had received a big promotion to manager and was now in the main office. He then pointed me to the back of the store.
I started back through the store with my mind on automatic. I sure was not your normal Monday shopper. I was amazed at how many low class trailer court people were shopping, and how many of the overweight white women were dragging black babies. Was that my future if this damn program was not working? I got on the scale last night before bed and learned that I was about twelve pounds heavier. So here I was gaining weight rapidly and becoming more and more convinced I was carrying Jamal’s and my baby.
Each time I passed one of these women in an aisle my heart stopped. My fear was bad enough just looking at myself. Now with each step a fat frumpy white lady, with a black kid, was driving me from just fear to absolute terror. If this program was not working as it should, I was well over five months pregnant with a baby and I was only eighteen years old. My birthday was still three months away. What timing.
The only redeeming thing was that the little half breed kids were so fucking cute. How could something so cute be such a nightmare?
I walked all the way to the back wall of the enormous store and then started down a hall pass restrooms toward a counter and doors marked corporate offices. At the counter a young black girl directed me to a seat at the side. I had not seen or spoken to Jamal in over a month; not since the day he introduced me to Bobby. I was shaking.
One phone call and Jamal was standing in front of me looking down. Courage swept over me for a moment and I looked up right into his eyes. What I saw said everything. He tried to smile, but all he could do was motion for me to follow him.
We went quickly through a reception area and directly into his office; desk, executive chair, table against the wall and two conference chairs. He had windows now; they were high. I sat in one of the conference chairs he pointed to as he went to his phone and pushed a couple button.
Finished, he came over,
“Caroline, hello; needless to say, I am surprised to see you. After all you went through here at the store; I was convinced I would never see you again once it was over. Are you finished with that program? I hope it all went well. I have paid all they asked, when they asked. Or is that why you’re here? Do we owe more money?”
I looked at him as he rambled and found myself at a loss for words.
Finally, I interrupted and stammered out,
“Jamal, I have come to a terrible conclusion. I don’t think Bobbie is for real. Nothing about what he has done makes sense. The doctor he introduced to solve this seemed ok at first, but he started giving me these expensive pills that are not working. I have done everything I have been told to do and look at me! It has been well over a month. This is all supposed to be finished next week.”
I stood and turned sideways, drawing the dress across my front, so he could see the obvious changes to my tummy and breasts. For reasons I cannot explain; as I showed him how I looked, a strange carnal feeling came over me. I was displaying his work. What he had done to me. This was his baby I was carrying. He was the father. He was as much into this as I was.
This whole thing was such a contradiction. Just looking at him drove me to distraction. He was amazingly handsome but he would be the last man I could ever imagine being associated with sexually. He was very black, a guy three times my age, a guy three times my size; a guy with a strange strict bearing that scared me; and yet there I was standing in front of him, demonstrating I was convinced I was still pregnant by him.
I stood frozen, showing him my profile, looking at him, waiting for a reaction.
His face projected a kaleidoscope of emotions; concern, anger, fear even a hint of two or pride.
Finally, he spoke,
“What kind of program did you say?”
Without further prompting, I unloaded. Driven by a lot of nervous energy and finally having someone to share my fears with, I describing it in detail, everything; Bobby, the house, the neighborhood, the doctor, the pills, the men like Rashid and Amyl, the white “nurses” the whole thing. All that had gone on during the last five weeks which now seemed to be wasted time. I spared no detail; even detailing the changes in me physically and mentally
When I finished Jamal stood up and came directly in front of me. He reached out with both hands to embrace me. Finished he stepped away. His eyes were moist with concern or perchance rage. I could not tell.

THE TRUTH

“Caroline, sit down. Let me call this Bobbie guy. I don’t know much about this kind of stuff, but this whole thing sounds fishy.”
I sat. He called. He called another number, then a third. Bobby obviously answered this last call and in the next ten minutes I was party to one side of the most disturbing conversation of my life.
As they talked, I watched Jamal’s face turn darker and darker with anger. Final he began to give Bobby a series of unspeakable fowl epithets and threats that I would never repeat.
He hung up violently and looked at the wall for what seemed like forever, and then he unloaded on me.
It turned out Bobby admitted a horrible deception as Jamal threatened him with a violence he understood. In short, Bobby was told in very dark terms that if this program did not work he was a dead man and with that Bobby began to really spill the beans.
Bobby it turns out was nothing more than a high class pimp and a hustler. “Dr. Smith” was a guy that worked for him and did amateur acting on the side; he had no medical training. Joyce and Donna were trained as nurses, but they were also married women that somehow got wrapped up with Bobbie and prostitution. Rashid and Amyl were bouncers at a bar Bobby owned. The pills were harmless sugar placebos.
It went on and on. One by one Jamal revealed the dark details of my plight and my heart sunk lower and lower.
To add insult to injury, Bobby told Jamal I had earned several thousand dollars, and he would gladly give it to him if he would forget the whole thing, kick me to the curb, and not resort to violence. “After all, why get involved. I was just another bored rich white girl that had played the “nigger” lover game for kicks and got knocked up. I was a tramp. I was a white slut who finally got caught playing around with black fire. I was paying the price for my kicks.”
Jamal said nothing more he just sat and looked at me. I sat looking past him to the wall. I am sure my face was absolutely expressionless. White with shock and dismay! His face was black, very black with a fearful angry expression that is inked on my mind today.
The entire nightmare swept over me like that darkest cloud. I was so pregnant with his baby. Even looking straight ahead at Jamal I could see the changes to my breasts and tummy. My entire body looked so different. I even sat differently. And all my precious time to get rid of this had passed while I was being played along by this Bobby.
I was choked up with emotion. This news had caused dampness to run down my front. I could feel tears forming in my eyes.
The only positive I could find was a strange feeling of relief. My doubts about this program had been plaguing me and now I knew the truth. I had been deceived, but the deception was over. I was now dealing with reality.
I looked over at Jamal. I could look him right in the eye now. This recent revelation moved our relationship to a complete standoff. It leveled the playing field. We were in this together. He had the tapes and the witnesses that could send me to jail, but I was carrying his black baby and one word to authorities would ruin his life. It was a true standoff. We both had a new understand of the results of what we had done together.
We sat in silence. You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. He seemed to get bigger with every moment that passed. I could not take my eyes off of him. How in the world could a thin young white girl like me have his baby? He was enormous.
He sat looking at the wall. Finally, he slowly turned toward me. He was looking down at the floor. I could clearly hear him breathing heavily. He looked up at me,
“Having sex with you was the worst thing I have ever done. I have been so angry with myself ever since. I can’t sleep. It does no good now, but I want you to know I never intended to do what I did. I am a strict rules guy, but that day I had decided to break the rules just for you. You had me sold. You had me convinced you had just made a onetime dumb mistake. I was going to just scare the hell out of you, embarrass you, and let you go.
But Caroline, when I put you over the desk to act like I was going to spank you, I literally lost it. With that short skirt you were wearing it was more than I could handle sexually. I lost control. I could not deal with the temptation. I have never seen anything more tempting. I mean it. Never! My power went to my head and I took terrible advantage of you.”
He stopped and looked away toward the door. I could see tears welling up in his big dark eyes. He slowly turned and looked around the room. I could hear him breathing deeply, trying to compose himself. He was absolutely tormented and it was now turning completely to anger. I felt terrible. My fears went away for a moment as I watched his seething.
I had to say something,
“You know, really this whole thing is my fault. Had I not committed the crime, had I not shoplifted, you would have never met me. None of this would have happened.”
I watched the changing expressions in his face. I could see my comments were giving him some relief. I was acknowledging responsibility. I was admitting we were in this together. It was helping him.
“You know even with this jerk Bobby, you were honestly trying to help me. We were both deceived.”
For reasons I will never understand all this bad news made me feel a new sense of power over the situation. In a strange way this was all about me. Everything was now revealed. We were finally dealing with a very dark troublesome reality we both had created. I stood up and walked over to put my hand on his shoulder as he sat at the desk. Strange mature, almost motherly, emotions came over me.
I honestly felt sorry for him,
“Jamal, we are in this together. I am the one who shoplifted. I am the one that wore that little skirt to play games and tempt the boys in the mall. You were a victim of the situation I created. I knew what I looked like. I shouldn’t have dressed so seductively. I shouldn’t have shoplifted for sure. You shouldn’t have taken advantage of me. So there we are. I am pregnant with your baby. We are in this together.”
For unknown reasons I needed his touch. He was the only one I had now. He was the only person in the world I could talk too about all this. It was obvious we had been drawn so close by all that had happened between us.
Now, for the first time, standing here looking down at him, I could begin to comprehend the indescribable conflict within me that day he took me; the combination of fear, hatred, loathing, all mixed together with an erotic passion which I could not describe or admit. I had been unable to wrap my arms around all the emotions until right then. It was like some terrible storm had finally passed.
A feeling of empowerment came over me. I need his touch and it looked like he really needed mine as well. I reached for his hand and brought him up from his chair. I gave him a gentle hug. He was so big it was awkward. It was the first time I had tried to hug him. I could hardly reach his neck and my arms could not begin to encircle his chest. When he stepped back there were clear stains from my breasts on the front of his blue uniform shirt.
“Jamal, please, please don’t go after Bobby and the people involved in that scam. I beg you. Please just forget them. They are scum and hurting any of them will only add to my troubles and yours. They know all about you. They know where you work. They know where you live. They could hurt you so badly in many ways. They know all about me, now, as well. They could harm us both.
That whole thing down there in the hood is crazy and scary. Who in the world could I turn to if you get hurt badly or killed? I have no one else. We are in this together; Period.
Please, just put all your energy into helping me deal with this? What can I do to get out of this mess?
Please think, think, there has to be options.”
For the next ten minutes we stood in a gentle embrace in the center of his office. I could feel him calming in my arms. Just his touch, the fact he had not just stepped out of the whole thing and dumped me, gave me reassurance. Together we walked toward the conference table. It was clear Jamal had accepted all this and was beginning to deal with things rationally. His calm acceptance was reassuring. We were trapped in this together and now shared the same worries and concerns.
But, what he did not understand was the other side of it for me. He had no comprehension of the uncontrollable unexplainable passions that possessed me as a result of that day. Even today, in spite of all the fear, worry and loathing in our conversation, I was in a heated sexual turmoil inside. His mature calmness only added fuel to my internal fires, and he had no idea. I was aching for his attention and physical ratification of our complex bond.
Once at the conference table I turned my back to him and brought his hands around me and up to my inflated breasts. We stood in this embrace for several minutes as he softly kissed the back of my neck and gently manipulated my breasts. Finally, I could take no more. I reached for the back of my skirt with both hands and brought it up over my back and went forward onto the table. I could hear his zipper and heavy breathing. I slid my panties down behind me and let them fall to the floor. His left hand came under to support me as my legs parted and his right hand guided his enormous manhood deep into my very ready vagina. It took effort, he was enormous, but it felt so good. I needed exactly what he provided.
We were back where this all started only now we were full partners in everything, including this overwhelming desire for one another. Jamal started to make love to me with every fiber of his being and I responded with desires that were at the boiling point. Each of his strokes was met by my arching and contracting to take all he gave me. At some point we started to climax together, time after time, and the climaxes blended together into one uncontrollable, enormous emotional entanglement of our bodies.
Time after time he told me how much he had missed this, how much he had worried about me, how much he needed more of this. He went on and on and each of his pleadings was met by the same from me. This enormous black man was answering all the terrifying lonely nightmares I had been having for days. He was buried deep within me, his semen was flooding through my body once again, and we were cementing a relationship stronger than any marriage. We were in a terribly complex, problematic situation, but we were in it together.
It ended as he gently stood up and pulled from me with a sound I cannot describe. I was so tight around him it took effort for him to withdraw. This time I knew what he desired. This time my panties stayed on the floor as I straightened up and fixed my dress and my hair.
We embraced over and over and then turned to sit down at the table together. There was a new bond between us. We simply sat looking in one another’s eyes, but the message of love flowed between us so strongly. He was a very big, very black, very handsome man and I was a very cute white girl with a cute pony tail and a very cute bump that we had created together. Our plight was now fully understood between us.
After some time we started to discuss new solutions. We worked as a team. One by one he started to logically list the things we had going for us. On my side; I had good health, good looks, high school finished, loving parents, a good home, my car, and access to some money. He went on and on. He was describing the positive things in my life and the fact that I now had some independence. I could tell he had been doing research.
“How did you learn so much about me, Jamal?”
He reached in his shirt pocket and handed me the driver’s license and credit card I had left on his table that first day. Holy shit, I had been without them and never missed them.
“I do my homework. I have had more remorse than you will ever know. But I am the type of guy that rather than trying to forget you, I wanted to learn everything I could about you. Mallmart can run excellent background studies. Right away I learned you were not the shoplifting little white tramp I thought you were. Your background check told me you were a quality kid, although your life had been very white and sort of boring if you know what I mean.”
He sat looking at me for a moment and then continued.
“Caroline, from my side I will bring everything I have to bear on this. I just got a wonderful promotion here with lot more pay, I get military retirement and medical, I am single, I have no dependents, I don’t spend much, I have good money in the bank and I own a neat condo in a fairly nice neighborhood. Up to this point I have done things right.
I have to admit you are correct in your thoughts about Bobby and his shitty buddies in the hood. Hurting any of them would only add untold complications. I will promise to get my mind off of all that and direct my thoughts to solving this problem.
Right now we both have a lot of thinking to do so maybe we should end this here today, give this more contemplation, and then quickly have a follow-up meeting at my place to go over our conclusions, ok? I want you to call me this evening and let me know your first chance get together. I am dropping everything to work on this. We need to move fast.”
I nodded. We stood up. He wrapped me firmly in his arms and covered my mouth an enormous kiss. He turned to his desk and handed me his card with home address and phone. We walked toward the door. I turned back to him, went up on my tiptoes wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. I backed away. The front on his dark blue shirt was very wet. I pointed it out.
He smiled and said,
“I would like this to look like a casual employment conversation so I better say goodbye here, can you find your way out?”
I apologized and reached confidently for the door handle. He turned back toward his desk.
As I moved out through the reception area I was most pleased that no one seemed to take note of me.
I made a brief stop at the ladies room and then started out through the aisles.
The store had a good many shoppers now, and many caused me to reflect on my condition as I passed along the aisles. For some reason, I saw so many fat white women with the black babies. I felt fat; I actually seemed to walk differently. Maybe my weight had increased and shifted enough to make a difference. Alarmingly, I much better understood how these women got where they were.
I was less than half way out of the store when a security guard came up behind me, smiling,
“Hey Caroline; nice to see you; catching up on the weekend shopping?”
I glanced at him and continued to walk.
He moved along beside me,
“The boys in the back were talking about your thing down in the hood with that Bobby. My name is Rashaid. I am trying to make it down there to see you but you can call me here anytime; just ask for me on the main phone line. You know, you sure are one very good looking girl. I really would like to get to know you.”
I tried to look at him with a smile to keep up appearances, and then ignore him and walked on. He followed along for about twenty steps continuing his kind effort to become part of my problem, and then he turned down an aisle. I walked on filled with contradictory emotions. My body was a playground of wild inconsistencies I could not understand.