Interracial | Pregnancy | Erotica
Wombs as Reparations — Chapter 22
The Sins of the Father
Hello, and welcome to the newsletter for “Mixed Pregnancy Stories”. This article is Chapter 22 of a series called “Wombs as Reparations,” an erotic story about a sweet, young girl and her journey towards racial, and sexual liberation. If you haven’t read Chapter 1, you can do so by clicking here.
“Hello?” She answered.
“Hey, is this Stephanie?” Harold’s dad asked.
“Yes.”
“You’re the chick who got knocked up by some random, aren’t you?” Harold’s dad barked.
“… Excuse me?” She replied.
“You heard me. I’m your fiance’s father. Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Stephanie didn’t even know what to say.
He continued: “I don’t know if you’re one of those communists, social justice warriors, or whatever the hell y’all call yourselves. You need to stop what you’re doing. Now.”
“Or what?” she replied, holding her breath in anticipation.
“Oh, sweetie, you may think the world revolves around but, but I promise you, it don’t.”
“… I’m still waiting to hear how you’re going to stop me.” She replied.
“Look, it’s Stephanie, right? You don’t know me, but many people around here do. My family has been here for generations, and I know a lot of people. Do you understand what I’m trying to tell you?” he asked.
Stephanie stayed silent.
“Well, anyways, you’re going to stop this rally or whatever the heck it is. Why are you so keen on getting white girls mixed up with the Blacks, huh?”
“And what exactly is wrong with that?” She barked.
Harold’s father was becoming more frustrated with each word.
“You just… look, I don’t know how to say it, but it just ain’t right.” He stammered.
“Well, whether or not it’s ‘right,’ you have a grandson growing in my belly right now. Do you hear that? Your grandkids are going to be brown, Mr…. um, what is your name again?”
“First off, the name is Hank. Secondly, that ain’t my grandson. My Harold didn’t put that baby in you. That was some-”
Stephanie interrupted him.
“Whether or not he impregnated me does not matter. He is going to be the step-daddy, and his name will be on the birth certificate. I’ll make sure of it. Harold is a nice, caring, sweet man. It amazes me how he came from such a racist brute. How do you like that, Hank?”
To her surprise, he didn’t say anything for a few seconds.
“Tell you the truth… I think it’s kind of cool.” He finally muttered.
Now, she was confused. Was she still dreaming? Did he really just say that?
“Um… come again?” She replied.
Hank waited to reply for a couple of seconds.
“Well, I really hate to say this, but I’ve always found it pretty fascinating when a white woman and a Black guy, you know. Get together. I like watching them fuck on the Internet, and I especially like it when they get pregnant too.”
Now, she was even more confused.
“I like seeing their white bellies swell up real big. Just something about them growing mixed offspring in their tummies is really cool. I hate that I like it, but I do…”
He kept going.
“And plus, I see the writing on the wall. All our singers are Black, the best athletes are all Black and don’t even get me started on all those dang commercials. Every single one has a Black guy with a beautiful white lady. It’s just a matter of time till everybody in this country is mixed.”
Stephanie somehow went from being filled with righteous anger to utter confusion, and now she was horny.
“Well, that’s wonderful to hear Hank.” She finally replied. “Since you like those ‘mixed-race bellies’ so much, would you like to come feel one?”
Without skipping a beat, he asked her where to meet.
“I’m pumping gas right now, I’ll text you the address. Once you get here, maybe you can pump something into me…”
Hank probably broke two dozen traffic laws before speeding into the parking lot next to Stephanie. She was sipping on a cold brew with her shirt lifted to give her belly some sun.
“Nice to finally meet you,” he exclaimed with a grin, moving in for a hug.
She quickly shut him down, stretching her arm out.
“No hugging. You came here to rub my belly, and that’s all you’re going to get.”
Although he was clearly frustrated, he didn’t want to drive all this way for nothing.
So he put his hands around her big pregnant belly and sparked the most genuine smile he’d had in years.
“It’s so smooth.” He exclaimed with joy.
“Thank you,” she replied, perking up a little. “Have you ever felt a pregnant belly before?”
“Just my son when he was in his momma’s tummy,” he said.
“So he’s an only child?” she asked.
Hank laughed. “Oh, hardly. He has 3 brothers and 2 sisters.”
Steph felt confused.
“So why didn’t you feel your wife’s belly with any of the others?”
Hank laughed again. “Because they aren’t mine…”
Puzzled, she asked him to elaborate.
“After having Harold, I had a vasectomy. I realized how expensive it is to have kids, and I wanted to hang onto what little money and free time I had left. So, I got snipped.”
“At first, my wife was on board, but two years later, she wanted little Harold to have a sibling.” He continued, feeling her pronounced belly button with his thumb. “So I went to the doctor to have my vasectomy revered, but for whatever reason, they couldn’t do it. Something about me waiting too long…”
“Well, go on,” she replied.
“At first, we were devastated. I felt like such an idiot. And my wife was getting baby-crazy, so we just agreed to go to a sperm bank. But something just felt… ‘off’ about it. Just didn’t feel natural.”
“So, did you adopt?” She asked.
“No,” he replied. “One day, I came home from work and caught her in bed with the groundskeeper. He was a tall, handsome fella, pretty good with women. I was so pissed that I would’ve shot him, but luckily the wife made me put all my guns in the safe in the basement. Instead, I just hit him a few times and told him to get the hell out before I killed him.”
“Well, about a month later, she took a pregnancy test, and it came back positive. We hadn’t had sex in probably 2 months since then, so I figured it was the groundskeeper’s. And I reckoned, well, since we were trying to have a baby for so long and I basically sterilized myself, why don’t we just keep this one and give ol’ Harold a sibling.”
She was shocked. Things were finally starting to make sense.
“I won’t keep boring you with the details, but long story short, I ended up becoming a huge cuck. I let the groundskeeper impregnate her again, but he ended up leaving town, and we had to find a new guy. So we got into swinging, and I watched probably 30 men fuck my wife over the years. She would let me have sex every now and then, but for some reason, she never let me feel her belly when it had someone else’s baby in it.”
Stephanie felt like crying. She was so moved. What a fantastic man.
“I wish more guys were like you, Hank.” She said, having to hold back tears.
“Oh, let’s not wish that on anybody.” he joked.
“Well, I guess I ought to tell the dean to let you back in. I’m sorry about that, Stephanie,” he said.
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I have it under control,” she replied, sporting a slight grin.
As Hank got back into his car, Stephanie felt an overwhelming sense of shame. She felt really bad for this poor man. And she wanted to make it right.
So she waddled over to his vehicle as fast as she could muster, her tits nearly spilling out of her tank.
“Hank, one second,” she yelled, knocking on his windshield.
After rolling it down, he looked puzzled.
“When’s the last time you’ve had sex?” She asked.
“Oh god, I have no idea. Probably 6 months. Why?”
“Meet me in the bathroom in the back,” she commanded.
In almost no time, she was on her knees, tickling Hank’s dick with the back of her throat. It was a bit on the smaller side, so she really had to bury her face into his pubes. She took a break to tell him to give her a signal and he can bust all over her belly.
She kept sucking his cock back and forth, her left hand cupping his balls and her right holding up his beer belly. He probably looked 7 months pregnant himself, and it was getting pretty hard to hold up.
“Can you please hold up your potbelly,” She asked, completely out of breath.
“Yeah,” he said sheepishly.
She went to work again, trying to get this desperate man to cum. He was hard as a rock but just could not get there.
Stephanie couldn’t keep messing with this forever; she had a maternity photo shoot in 15 minutes. So, she did what usually works with Harold.
After pulling his dick out of her mouth, she said, “Ugh, I wish I was sucking a Big Black Cock right now.”
That almost made him bust right there, but he needed a bit more humiliation.
“No wonder your wife fucked all those other guys. You have such a tiny, pathetic dick. Good thing your bloodline will end with Harold. He’s not gonna have any kids of his own. I’m gonna let 20 men get me pregnant, and he won’t do anything but watch and jerk off his tiny little pecker.”
That was all it took for Hank to bust a nut all over her stomach. She whispered, “Yeah, yeah,” as he kept jizzing all over her round pregnant belly. She even rubbed it and put some on her tits.
“Thanks for the free stretch mark cream!” She giggled.
As she stood up to clean herself off, she thought of a better idea.
Stephanie grabbed Hank by the collar and yanked him down towards her stomach.
“Lick it up.” She commanded.
At first, he hesitated, but soon enough, he was licking his own semen off of her stomach. He started by moving his tongue over her belly button because a good amount had gathered around there.
As he was about to spit it out, she put a finger over his lips.
“Swallow it.” She demanded.
Hank looked more miserable than turned on at this point, but obliged her request. He finally swallowed and started shivering.
Then she pulled him down by his collar again and told him to keep going.
“We aren’t leaving until my belly is spotless.”
He kept licking and licking, and she loved the feeling. But she really enjoyed the humiliation he must have felt. Thankfully, years and years of cuckoldry prepared him for this moment.
“Oh no, somebody made a mess,” she said, beckoning towards the puddle of cum on the floor below her.
He looked up at her in horror, basically begging to be let go.
Stephanie lifted her leg up, put her feet on top of his head, and slowly pushed it down towards the bathroom floor.
Thank you for reading Chapter 22 of Wombs as Reparations! We couldn’t do this without your passion and support, and if you’d like to get notified when we post the next chapter, click the follow button on this page!
