The Surrogate
"They can't conceive. The surrogate they hire is massive, beautiful, and insists on natural insemination. His wife watches every session, getting wetter each time. By the end, she's begging to join."
We tried for five years.
Every test, every treatment, every specialist. The verdict was always the same: my wife Rachel's eggs were healthy, but her uterus couldn't carry a pregnancy. Something about the lining. Something unfixable.
"Surrogacy," Dr. Chen suggested. "It's your best option."
We spent six months finding the right candidate.
Her name was Gloria.
Gloria was not what we expected.
The agency had sent photos, but photos don't capture presence. When she walked into our living room for the interview, she filled the space like a natural force.
Three hundred pounds. Fifty years old. A body built for fertility—wide hips, massive breasts, a belly that curved out soft and round. She'd been a surrogate four times before. Four healthy babies delivered without complication.
"Your genetics," she said, looking at me. "Your wife's eggs. My body." She smiled. "Simple."
"We were thinking IVF," Rachel said. "Implantation after—"
"I don't do clinical." Gloria shook her head. "Natural insemination only."
"Natural?"
"Your husband. Inside me. As many times as it takes." She met Rachel's eyes. "Is that a problem?"
Rachel said yes.
I don't know why. Something in Gloria's confidence, her certainty, her complete lack of shame. Something that made Rachel lean forward instead of recoiling.
"There are conditions," Gloria continued. "First: your wife watches. Every session. She needs to see it happen, know it's happening. No secrets."
"I can do that," Rachel said. Too quickly.
"Second: we continue until I'm pregnant. However long that takes. Could be one night. Could be months."
"Months?"
"I ovulate on schedule. We'll have windows. But there are no guarantees." Gloria stood. "Think about it. Call me when you decide."
We called the next day.
The first session
Gloria arrived at 8 PM.
She was wearing a simple dress, easily removed. Her hair was down. She smelled like lavender.
"Where?" she asked.
"Our bedroom," Rachel said. "I want—I need to see everything."
We went upstairs. Rachel sat in the chair by the window. I stood by the bed, uncertain.
"Take off your clothes," Gloria told me. "Let's see what I'm working with."
I stripped while my wife watched.
Gloria circled me, appraising. Her hand found my cock—already half-hard, despite my nerves—and stroked slowly.
"Good." She sounded satisfied. "Healthy. Strong." She looked at Rachel. "You've been wasting this on a woman who can't use it."
"I—"
"I don't mean offense." Gloria released me. Started undressing herself. "I mean you should have come to me sooner."
The dress fell. She was naked underneath.
Her body was a monument. Breasts that hung to her waist, dark nipples as wide as plums. A belly that cascaded in rolls, soft and warm and endless. Thighs thick enough to trap a man forever.
"On the bed," she commanded. "Let's make a baby."
I lay on my back.
Gloria climbed on top of me—her weight settling, her heat enveloping. She reached between us, guided me to her entrance, and sank down.
"Fuck." The word escaped before I could stop it.
"That's the idea." She started moving. Slow. Deliberate. "Your wife's watching, you know."
I looked at Rachel. She was gripping the arms of her chair, breathing hard. Her eyes were fixed on where Gloria and I were joined.
"She likes it." Gloria ground down harder. "Seeing you inside another woman. A woman who can give you what she can't."
"Gloria—"
"Don't hold back." She grabbed my face. "Fill me up. Plant your seed. Give your wife a baby."
I came inside her.
Hard. Deep. She held me there while I pulsed, while my cock emptied into her, while Rachel watched with wet eyes and wet thighs.
"Good." Gloria didn't move. "Stay inside me. Let it settle."
"Is it—did it—"
"We won't know for weeks." She rolled her hips, keeping me deep. "So we'll do this again. Tomorrow. And the next day. Until we're sure."
She looked at Rachel.
"Would you like that, wife? Watching him breed me every night?"
Rachel nodded. Couldn't speak.
"Good." Gloria smiled. "Then let's begin again."
Week Two
Every night.
Gloria came to our house, stripped in our bedroom, took me while Rachel watched. Sometimes once. Sometimes three or four times. She was insatiable—demanding more, longer, deeper.
"You're getting better," she told me one night, riding me while Rachel touched herself in the corner. "Lasting longer. Going harder."
"Practice."
"Your wife is learning too." Gloria looked at Rachel. "She's not just watching anymore. She's wanting."
It was true. Rachel had stopped sitting in the chair. Now she lay on the bed beside us, inches away, her fingers between her own legs.
"Come closer," Gloria said. "Touch him while I take him."
Rachel's hand found my chest. My stomach. Lower.
"That's it." Gloria moaned as Rachel's fingers found where we were joined. "Feel how deep he is. How full I am."
"God," Rachel whispered. "I can feel him inside you."
"Soon he'll put a baby there." Gloria grabbed Rachel's hand. Pressed it to her belly. "Right here. Growing. Because you let him."
Rachel came with a sob.
Month Two
Still not pregnant.
Gloria wasn't concerned. "These things take time. We keep trying."
But something was changing.
Rachel wasn't just watching anymore. She was participating. Kissing Gloria while I fucked her. Sucking my cock between sessions. Holding Gloria's thighs open while I pushed inside.
"You want to join us properly," Gloria observed one night. "Don't you?"
Rachel was pressed against her back, arms wrapped around Gloria's massive belly while I thrust from the front.
"Yes," Rachel admitted. "I want—I want to be part of it."
"Then be part of it." Gloria reached back. Pulled Rachel around. "Sit on your husband's face while I take his cock."
I ate my wife while I fucked our surrogate.
Rachel's familiar taste on my tongue, Gloria's unfamiliar grip on my cock. Two women using me together, their moans harmonizing, their bodies pressed together above me.
"This is what we should have been doing from the start," Gloria gasped. "All three of us. Every night."
"Yes," Rachel agreed. "Yes, yes, yes—"
They came together. I came inside Gloria. And for the first time, it felt complete.
Month Three
Gloria was pregnant.
The test confirmed it. Eight weeks along. Healthy, stable, growing.
"We should stop now," I said. "The contract—"
"Says I carry the baby." Gloria set down the test. "It doesn't say we can't continue... recreationally."
She looked at Rachel. Rachel looked at me.
"I want to keep feeling this," Rachel admitted. "Even if it's not for the baby anymore."
"Then we continue." Gloria pulled us both toward her. "The pregnancy makes me more sensitive, not less. I'll need attention. Lots of it."
"We can provide that," I said.
"I know you can." She kissed Rachel. Then me. "That's why I chose you."
Epilogue: Nine months later
A healthy boy.
Seven pounds, four ounces. Our genetics, Gloria's body. The perfect blend.
She stays with us now. Has her own room in the house. Helps with the baby, helps with each other, helps herself to both of us whenever she wants.
"People will talk," Rachel said once.
"Let them." Gloria was nursing our son while I massaged her shoulders. "We know what we are."
"What are we?"
"Family." She smiled down at the baby. "The strangest family in the neighborhood. But family nonetheless."
Rachel leaned against her. I leaned against Rachel.
Family.
I could live with that.