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Growing up, we were told to always search for women who could bear the strongest heir, for the betterment of the family. My father anddedushkainstilled in us to look at the pelvis first. Americans had adopted the phrase “child-bearing hips”. This was something I understood. I looked for hips that were wider and could easily pass my heir, a strapping son who is bound to be stubborn, like me.
Next, I looked for breasts. This was not for the betterment of the family, but for my own fantasy. Not that women with smaller breasts were unattractive to me, but larger, natural breasts easily fed into my breeding kink. When I was fucking a woman from the back, and her tits grazed the bed sheets, hanging low as if filled with milk, I could imagine she was already swollen with my seed growing in her belly. I got off on it.
Great.Now I was sitting in this bar with my cock hard as a fucking rock.
There had to be someone in here that was worth a good fuck.
As if the universe heard my thought, the door to the bar opened again, and a woman stumbled inside. She was wet from the rain, but the beads of moisture gleamed off her dark skin like diamonds. Her jet black, wild curls haloed around her head, but it was her amazing hips that gained my attention.
Wide and, I bet, shallow. Just how I needed them. Her tits were large and swelled over the bit of delicious pudge on her belly. I could splooge in my pants just imagining her growing even thicker with my child. God, she was perfect.
Fuck, I needed to bed this woman. The more I looked at her, the more I wanted her.
She slumped over the bar, straining to be heard over the god-awful music, and ordered a drink. The bartender tried to engage her, but she wasn’t having it. I could see the exaggerated eye roll all the way from over here.
She’s waiting for me, it seems.
Like God was blessing this union, the light struck the side of her face, illuminating her. My goodness this woman was a fucking angel. She could kill a man with her looks. Wars would be forged, and I knew that any children of mine she’d be forced to have would be adorable.
Groaning, I stood, adjusted my hard cock, and swaggered up to her. The confidence of a truePakhanflowed through my veins. Women never turned me away. Whatever I lacked in looks I made up with in power. And power was always sexy.
I noticed she had a faraway look in her eyes, lost in her memories. So, I spoke to the bartender.
“I don’t think she likes that drink, maybe she would like something else.”
The angel I was going to fuck blinked hard, bringing reality back into focus. Her pouty lips made me want to force my cock down her throat.
I knew then, without a doubt, she was meant to carry my child. I would breed her until we had a son, and then when our child turned twelve and needed to move into manhood, he would kill her, as was our way.
She had been chosen.
When I asked if the seat with her purse on it was taken, she moved the purse.
This was my in.
And whether she realized it or not, she was already mine.
ALEXIE
Alexie
A chuckle escaped my lips as I slid into the stool next to her.
She squinted up at me. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” I shook my head then motioned to the bartender for another beer. While it didn’t taste nearly as horrible as they did in the beginning, it still sucked. However, it also served another purpose. Beer often felt safer to women. It was casual. It was friendly.
“No, tell me.” She nudged my shoulder with hers.
I felt a tingle rush down my arm. “I asked you if the seat was taken.”
She bit her lip, blinking rapidly. “What do you mean?”
“The seat. The one that held your purse, was clearly taken so someone like me would not try to weasel their way next to you.”
There was a pause where she took a sip of her drink, and then her eyes crinkled, and she laughed. Soft at first, then it grew, and my pants grew uncomfortably tight the more I stared at her gaping mouth.
“So, tell me about yourself.” She took a large sip of her drink.
