I got Mistress home, and all she did for hours was sit quietly, moan, (the wrong sort of moans for me of course!!!), and nurse a headache worse than any she had ever known, or even imagined was possible. Once her headache finally subsided, I must have spent hours talking over with Mistress, what we had done the previous night, and while Mistress was embarrassed about the slutty way she’d acted, she didn’t deny the fact that she had enjoyed herself so much while she did. I commented on the way she looked when Jim and I walked into the hotel room, spotting the spunk sprayed on her pretty face and big tits, and catching Mike vigorously eating her sweet pussy. Mistress turned a deep shade of red when I did that, and it made her look even more beautiful, if it was actually possible to do so. I explained to Mistress just how much more beautiful her rosy-red cheeks made her look at that moment, as she at on the chair in our living room, and when she smiled, I gave her a passionate kiss. After which, I asked her if she would agree to recreate the moment for me, on the chair she was currently sitting on. She did, of course; removing her dress and bra, (we both gave our panties to Mike the previous night as souvenirs, to thank him for loaning us his bed,) and when she sat down, I took my place between her smooth thighs, eating that lovely sweet pussy and listening to those wonderful moaning sounds that Mistress had always made at times like that.

Following our escapade with Mike and Jim, Mistress felt a little dirty and quite a lot slutty, for a few days afterwards, but those feelings wore off as she thought about the amount of enjoyment she’d had, having sex with two men she didn’t know, and wouldn’t have to see again. After all, it wasn’t as if she was the first unmarried woman to have sex with strange men. One-night stands were common enough by then that no one was going to label her as anything dirty for it; it was part and parcel of being an independent young woman with no ties and a fat billfold! Many attractive women like Mistress had flings with attractive men they met, enjoyed the sex, and then moved on to a new man when the novelty wore off the old one.

Then came the day that Mistress and I were both dreading, and yet looking forward to at the same time; Mistress announced that she thought she might be pregnant! Her period had been due to begin within just a couple of days of our foursome, and it hadn’t occurred. A home testing kit gave us the indication that we thought we wanted, and an appointment with Mistress’ G.P. confirmed the state of affairs. Mistress knew couples who tried for months to conceive, and failed, yet she fell pregnant after a drunken one night stand. Mistress had sounded confident before our one-nighter that she wanted to have a child, but I wasn’t sure her thoughts would be the same once the reality sank in, and she accepted that there was a little human growing inside her belly.

I was happy for Mistress because she seemed happy at being pregnant. Morning sickness, of course, reared its ugly head, and there was a period when Mistress was tempted to abort her pregnancy because of the mixture of nerves and morning sickness, but I soothed her sensibilities and that period of her pregnancy passed. Then Mistress settled down to become an expectant mother like all the others. The further her pregnancy progressed, the happier Mistress seemed to become with the new life that was growing within her body. I quite enjoyed putting my hands onto Mistress’ swollen belly and feeling the small movements of her baby within her womb. Sometimes I was moved almost to tears by those small baby movements, and Mistress used to like to view the expression on my face. Mistress, however, wasn’t always quite so pleased when her baby leaned on her bladder, kicked her kidneys or punched her stomach. By the time she went into labor, Mistress was positively glowing with happiness and was looking forward to becoming a mother, and in my own way, I was happy at the prospect of becoming a surrogate father to Mistress’ baby. I sat by her bed in the delivery room, holding her hand and wiping her brow, all the way through the birth of our baby. Even then, we had decided that the unborn child within Mistress’ womb would be treated as if I was a man, and as if he or she had been sired by yours truly, in the old-fashioned way. I was going to be that child’s father in all but actual fact.

While we could have been told our baby’s gender by the doctors, we wanted to be surprised when he or she popped out into the world. The words “Congratulations, it’s a girl,” were so nice to hear; as we’d both been girls in the past, we understood what girls went through in their childhood. We understood the emotional and physical changes a girl went through, as she blossomed into womanhood. The sight of Mistress feeding a baby with one of her tits was fascinating for me. Most mothers use bottles and fill them with milk powder mixed with water, but Mistress didn’t want to use artificial milk; she wanted to feed her baby with her own milk, and I discovered that I liked to watch her when she did.

The discussion for the next hour was about a name for our daughter. Despite the fact that the baby was no relation to me, I got an equal say in the name for a little girl who was going to grow up with Mistress and I as her parents. We finally settled on ‘Emma’, and filled in the birth certificate as such. I know that Mistress was a little embarrassed by not being able to name the child’s father, but she lied, and explained that the child was conceived in a test tube, and therefore the father was legally anonymous.

We wondered what we were going to tell Emma about her father, when she was old enough to ask and old enough to understand the answer. How were we going to tell her that she was conceived during a one night stand because her mother wanted to have a child; was curious about it might feel to have sex with a man, and ended up so drunk she could barely stand up, and had unprotected sex with two strange men?

There were complications during Emma’s birth, so while she was fit to go home after a couple of days, the doctors insisted on keeping Mistress in for observation for almost two weeks. For those twelve days and nights, I had our home to myself, and I hated every night of it. I was no longer accustomed to being alone on an evening, and I missed Mistress something terrible. I was lonely at home on my own, and miserable because I had to play with my own pussy, in my loneliness. I visited Mistress and Emma in hospital the way Mistress had visited me when I was in hospital, with flowers and presents, but I was glad when she and Emma were able to go home with me.

How many babies would grow up having two mothers willing to devote their every waking moment to her? Right from the start, I fussed over Emma like a mother hen; taking my turns with Mistress in nursing her, spending sleepless nights when Emma wouldn’t, or couldn’t sleep. I loved that little girl as if she was the fruit of my own womb, rather than of another woman’s! Mistress got a milk pump to extract milk from her mammary glands, so that I could warm it up in bottles to feed Emma when she was hungry, and when Mistress was asleep. The only thing about babies that I discovered I didn’t like was diaper changing, but when it had to be done, I did it, regardless of the foul smells. Mistress jokingly gave me a clothes peg to put on my nose when it was my turn to change Emma’s diaper. I even tried using it, but it hurt my nose.

I spent many long, sleepless nights, nursing Emma when she was teething, and for the first year after Emma’s birth my sex-life with my Mistress virtually ceased to exist. Yet, neither of us resented that fact because the sacrifice was worth it. We had a family; a family that we never thought we’d have been able to have, and that was worth losing out on the carnal pleasures for quite a long period of time. Mistress gave me a Rampant Rabbit with plenty of batteries, and I made do with that.

Even when Mistress and I were certain that our daughter had settled down to sleep, it took us a couple of years to return the style of lovemaking had become accustomed to before having a child. Even at the start or our relationship, I had observed that Mistress was very vocal in her pleasure, but we didn’t want to make excessive noise in case we disturbed our daughter, and woke her up, and that was something we didn’t want! We wanted peace to make love for as long as we had the energy, and with Mistress’ stamina, that could sometimes be for hours at a time.


By the time of my ninth anniversary of becoming Mistress’ willing lover, I had saved up almost forty thousand dollars out of what Mistress had given me, and was about ready to approach my sister’s owner with an interest in buying her freedom. (I must have been gifted with an average of five and a half thousand dollars a year by Mistress, and I’d never had to pay for my motor insurance, automobile maintenance, or gasoline. Mistress gave me a credit card on her account for my motoring needs, so that I didn’t have to dip into my allowance for the maintenance of my car.) At that time, however, there was a motion in Parliament for the abolition of slavery.