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From: jack_99_1999@yahoo.com (Jack S)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 26 Jan 2002 18:42:43 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} STORY: How Lorna got pregnant Part 1 (f/m, preg, interracial)
Date: Sat, 26 Jan 2002 17:10:06 -0500
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STORY: How Lorna got pregnant Part 1

How did a strapping white guy from the midwest wind up
fathering the baby of a black woman from Brooklyn?

Two years ago I was finishing my graduate studies in
New York. I was assigned to be a part-time teaching
assistant at an inner-city primary school run by a
community church. I was glad for the opprtunity to
work with inner city kids, but apprehensive about
working in a religious school -- not being a religious
man myself.

But to my delight, I was soon so pleasantly distracted
that I forgot all about religion.

I was assigned to work with a young black woman
teacher. We'll call her Lorna.

Lorna was sweet, smart and creative. She had a great
way with the kids. She was also amazingly sexy. Lorna
was a thick girl, with silky dark brown skin and
beautiful brown eyes hidden behind librarian-like
glasses. Her ample figure had terrific curves. Her
wide hips screamed to me: "This girl was made for
bearing children!"

But Lorna's most outstanding physical feature -- the
one that captured my rapt attention from the start --
was her enormous breasts. They were the biggest
natural knockers I'd ever seen in person.

These were not ballon-like breasts. They were
all-natural black girl tits -- fat, full, drooping
with natural sag from their heaviness, and absolutely
captivating.

On my first day in Lorna's classroom I had to catch
myself several times from staring at her tits. They
seemed to dominate her movements -- hanging, jiggling
when she talked, bouncing to-and-fro when she walked,
sometimes slapping together. They were mesmerizing.

Lorna wore fairly conservative dresses, but there was
no way she could hide her cleavage. When she bent over
to help the children at their desks, I got a wonderful
view.

It soon became apparent to me that Lorna had a
love-hate relationship with her breasts. At the end of
the school day, she was tired, her back and shoulders
sore from carrying that heavy load. But other times,
between class periods when we were grading papers, I
sometimes noticed her unconsciously stroking and
fondling her mammoth mammaries. When she was happy or
excited, her nipples became prominently hard.

Looking at Lorna, being close to her four days a week,
was driving me crazy. I went home nearly every day and
beat off repeatedly, thinking about rubbing my face in
her chest canyon, sucking those nipples and fucking
her silly.

But since she was a religious school teacher and a
god-fearing woman, I wasn't sure what, if anything, I
could do about it.

***********

In Lorna's case, as is often the case in life, if you
are looking hard enough for an opportunity you can
find one.

One afternoon, about a month into my assignment, we
were grading papers in Lorna's classroom after school.
She complained about her back and neck pain. I offered
to give her a neck rub. The next thing I knew I was
standing behind her, kneeding my fingers into her
smooth, ebony neck and shoulders.

Lucky thing I was behind her, because I had a raging
hard-on.

As a massaged her, feeling some of the tension melt
away, I asked if she was seeing a doctor about her
chronic pain. She said she was considering breast
reduction but was having a hard time getting her HMO
to approve it.

Standing over her, I had an unimpeded view of her
fantastic, deep-running cleavage. I decided that it
was now or never: I had to make my move, and damn the
consequences.

I asked Lorna if she would come out for a drink with
me after work. To my surprise, she accepted.

We took the subway to a quiet hole-in-the-wall a
couple of blocks from my apartment. As we talked I got
steadily bolder -- first asking if she was seeing
anyone (she wasn't), then if she'd ever gone out with
a white guy (she hadn't, but was open to the idea).

I asked her if she would like to come up to my place
for a bite to eat. She said no at first, and we
started back to the subway station. We stood talking
there for a long time. I started to get the feeling
she was reconsidering.

Finally I took Lorna's hand and asked her again if she
would come up to my apartment. This time she said,
"Okay."

[To be continued]

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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