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[mwfMary]

We were concerned when, after several months of reckless and unprotected sex, Mary had not conceived again. She went to her doctor who said she was fine, healthy in all respects. But his referral to a specialist revealed that Mary had a common problem among women- a tipped uterus. Essentially, the way her uterus is located in her body folds or crimps at the entrance, near the cervix, limiting the penetration of the sperm into the uterus to fertilize her egg. He suggested sexual positions and surgery, if we felt that the problem was acute.

Probably not very sexy talk, discussing Mary’s tilted uterus. But it is an important bit of information, as events have progressed.

We belong to a breeding forum here online. It is very discrete and I will not go into it further. But we found that considering a child, optimizing their genetic possibility seemed wise to us. And the forum gave us the chance to know potential sires well in advance. After Lila was born, we knew that we wanted another mixed race child, this gave us a chance to conceive an exceptional one.

We continued in the IR lifestyle for all of last year, casually hosting during her fertile weeks. But nothing happened. And so we mentioned this in the forum. Two days later, we get a reply to the post from a ‘Michael’, who says he knows what to do. I didn’t think of it as anything more than a come on, but I noticed that she continued chatting with him for the rest of the week.

Since I am incapable of fathering a child, my role is, for lack of a better word, to be the procurer. If I see anything happening that looks interesting, I give her the nudge, or ask her if she wants me to set up a party for her. When I asked, she said “He is nice. You can talk to him.” That is my cue to offer Mary’s pussy. After the arrangements are made, I step out of the way, enjoying the privilege of watching him take her as he wishes.

I suppose that you can imagine my surprise when, just a bit before her scheduled date, I opened the door to a 75 year old black man, dressed in green pants, suspenders, a tired but clean plaid shirt, and a grey cardigan sweater. “Hello, I am Michael. May I come in?” I could not think to do anything but open the door wider, gesturing for him to come it.

I still didn’t quite believe that this could be the man we were expecting, a troubling notion that he quickly put to rest. “No, I am not the Micheal you ordered. I am his father. Very kind of you to invite me in.” As he walked by me, head bowed, back hunched by a lifetime of hard labor, he continued his introductions. “You know, I am just an advance man. I come by to check things out, to see if everything is alright, you know.” So dad is his advance man. “We are Cuban / African, in case you want to know.”

Just as I am coming to grips with the situation, I hear the bathroom door open upstairs. Mary knows there is someone here now. She is finishing up her hair, something I never have understood since ten minutes from now, it will be rumpled up in a black mans fist. As I offered him a drink, and he refused me politely, this wiry little man with the kindly face and silver hair sat on our couch and began explaining himself between compliments on our house. “You see, when I was young, I was like my Michael, trained in the ways.” then he rubbed the toe of his shoe into the carpeting approvingly. “I have 25 children that I know about.” He tilted his head smiled, like a retired prizefighter with a winning record. I found myself liking tis guy, believing his story. Again, I offered a drink. “Green tea, if you please. Is this pecanwood? I haven’t seen pecanwood in years.”

“Well, you invited me into your home, and you made me tea. I guess there is just one question left to answer...” At that moment, Mary came down the stairs. She looked perfect: tall and lean, with a bounce in her fresh brunette curls. When she saw Michael Sr. on the couch, smiling at her approvingly, I understood how I must have looked when I answered the door.

Being a woman, Mary is naturally more accepting than I am. Before he could begin his ramble all over again, she had crossed the room and offered him her hand in an old fashioned manner, which he smelled thoughtfully, then kissed. As he did so, I explained the situation is shorthand, which amused her to the point of laughing out loud. “You are so cute.” she said. Senior responded by removing a cell phone from his pocket and pressing 3 on speed dial. After a moment, he said “I should say so.” then he folded the phone, smiling as though nothing had just happened. Smiling wisely into his cup of tea, Senior carefully added, really for my ears only: “You seem like very generous people.”

When the Son arrived, and as introductions were made, and Mary and her sire measured each other, Senior took on the role of becoming my wise council. He would lean over explaining why they were so successful and to note the exact stage and every detail of their pair bonding progress. “If you don’t stop talkin’ so much, you know they are going to ask you to leave.” Senior took the caution like it stung, and stopped talking altogether for several minutes as the seduction began. Mary looked over with a cute grin. “It’s okay if he stays.” Wrinkling her nose, she added: “It would be his grandbaby, right?” By seniors expression, I could see that her logic fell upon a well worn path.

After that, her eyes never left his. Senior and I became invisible to them as she kicked off her shoes and danced with him slowly. His seduction was no different than a half dozen skilled black men who had taken her before. He was patient, but firm. He took from her as he wanted, always giving back that slight bit of encouragement that invited her to take a little more from him.

And she did. He had to hold her back when she began sucking his thick, ropey veined cock. Her eagerness was priming him for release much too soon. I saw Senior nod approvingly when Michael slowed her pace with a soft “Easy now, baby. That’s nice, right there.” He looked at me with pride in his eyes and said nothing for a moment. Then, not being able to resist, he whispered to me, hoarsely, quietly. “See, with the twisted uterus like that, you gotta get it to stand up, so it can open up for the seed” His hand gestured like the opening of a flower. “To do it, you gotta do some things, which you as her husband do not need to be alarmed about. it will be alright, just you see.”

He measured her wetness and warmth with a full and open hand until he was sure that she was ready to accept him easily. And, at that moment, he positioned her face down, hips up and open, and with her head on a pillow. He took his time, placing her knees just so, guiding the arch of her back as hew wanted it, caressing the skin of he ass with his massive black hands as he rubbed his cockhead along her wet opening. “She is about ready now.” Senior whispered, stating the obvious. He took particular interest in the moment as Junior fed his fat black cock into my hungry wife. In three soft strokes, he was fully in her. In five more strokes, a white ring of her lubricating lather revealed her comfort with him.

Again, Michael had to hold her back, slowing her pace as she began to work towards coming on is dick. “Easy, baby. Remember? That’s nice. That’s good.” Just as he slowed her down, he began to measure the end of his stroke, as though he was looking for something with his cock. Senior leaned over and touched my shirt at the very moment he reached around to cradle her belly lightly with his left hand, cracking her hard across the as with the right. She jumped, startled at the sharp pain, even if she wasn’t surprised by the action. She had been ass slapped before. But this time was different. When Michael felt her belly tense form the slap across her ass, he lifted her belly slightly with his left hand, he moved his cock deep into her, adjusting his position side to side until he felt her the soft ring of her cervix. Then he stroked in and out just slightly. “He’s making her nest now.” Senior whispered, clearly delighted with the job his son was doing.

Just as his tempo was beginning to increase, Michael lost his purchase and had to begin again with the belly cradle, ass cracking, and short stoking to find her cervix. This time, Mary seemed ready and able to align her body just so, to guide him back the seedbed he had begun to plow in earnest a moment before. He froze as his nut began to arrive and she instinctively took over the task of moving for him, retaining his tempo and the short, quick, flicking strokes. Senior touched my arm again as his nutsack pulled up tight, revealing the throbbing, pulsing jets of jism pumping up through his cock and into my wife. They came together powerfully, heaving in unison as he poured his semen through her cervical collar and into her fertile uterus.

“You see, he had to tent her with that slap, to get her womb pulled up tight to stand her uterus up. That’s how it works. I bet she is sown good now. I was a dairy farmer. We did that all the time to our cows who wouldn’t take. I have 25 babies myself, you know.” With that, Senior turned back to the coupling. Michael stayed deep in her, pressing her belly up, lifting her uterus. He messaged her there gently, rolling her ripe an open cervix around the head of his life giving cock as the last of his seed washed into her.

Never one to interrupt the intimacies of post coital pillow talk, I pulled Seniors sleeve, indicating that it was time for us to leave. He nodded sympathetically and we moved to the bedroom door unnoticed. In the kitchen, I gave him an envelope, which he tucked into his back pocket with an appreciative smile.

That was three days ago. This morning, way too soon to know, I heard Mary in her bathroom, saying to no one, and using that ‘could be’ tone. “Oh, I don’t know...”