Breeder Cabin

*Andrea's heart skipped a beat when she saw* The Bed*, and despite herself she felt her pussy lips begin to moisten.*

The Bed *was one of those mythical items at Gagahoe that legends had sprung up around. It was hard, these days, to separate the facts from the fiction. That its mattress had never been changed and that the spunk and juices of six decades of fertile teens had effused it. That a certain member of royalty or pop star (the person in question changed regularly) had been bred on that very bed and the offspring of that union was the one now gracing tabloid covers worldwide.*

*That it was impossible to take a warm, sticky, sperm-laden load on* The Bed *and* not *fall pregnant.*

*All these stories and more ran through Andrea's head as she waited her own turn on the sheets. There were plenty of other beds in Breeder Cabin, of course, some of which were now in use, but it was traditional for first-time girls and women to use* The Bed*, until the pregnancy was confirmed.*

*Marcy was almost finished anyway. The last boy was between her legs, while the older woman finished cleaning the cock of lover number four. The executive was a little dazed after the marathon session, but still delicately spit-shined every inch of the penis which had helped, almost certainly, impregnate her. At forty-five, Marcy had felt the winding down of her biological clock and decided to do something about it.*

*The boy fucking her stiffened and groaned, and blew the last of eight loads into her eager cunt. Now, with the sperm of five different randy breeders sloshing around her womb (and oozing, steadily, down the inside of both thighs), she would almost certainly get her wish.*

*While they finished off, Andrea dropped to her knees again and gave Booker a sultry look as she ran her tongue along his veiny shaft. The teen smiled back at her, and moved her head along until she could taste the pre that was dripping from his tip.*

*Oral sex, like anal, wasn't very popular in Breeder Cabin, the prevailing attitude being that cum belonged in one place and one place only, but Booker knew that it got Andrea off. Smelling him, tasting him, both of them knowing that his musk was even now sending chemical signals to her body telling it to prepare the biological machinery that would have her pumping out newborns.*

*Their post-fucking clean-up done, Marcy and her partners eventually left* The Bed*. The woman ran her fingers through her lips then gazed at the slick pearlescence that was gathered there, as if marvelling at the life that no human eye could see without magnification. Then she pulled on a pair of rubber-lined underwear before donning the rest of her clothes. She gave Andrea a warm smile and a wink as she stumbled from the cabin.*

*A few other boys paused in their own breeding activities to wish them luck as Andrea led Booker by the hand to* The Bed*. As she lay down in the sheets that never had time to cool down from constant body heat, she could feel the damp patches that preceded them. She was laying now where hundreds had lain before her, the true birth place of thousands of children. Andrea and her two-half brothers were among that number, her parents having rutted there seasons before.*

*Booker teased her by running his head up and down her lips. It was so unfair, seeing him smile down at her like that.*

*"Pleeeasssse..." she whined, arching her hips upwards. "Pleeeasse give it to me..."*

*She had come to Gagahoe with the sure and certain knowledge that, whatever fun she was going to be having, she wasn't going to leave with any 'souvenirs'. She had brought birth control pills and condoms to last a couple of weeks, even though the camp happily supplied all of them.*

*But the moment she had seen them, the girls and teens and women walking around in various stages of bloat, she had known. She* wanted *to be bred. She* wanted *to see her body change. To be able to look down and see the flat tummy honed from years of lacrosse swell and expand. To feel her A-cup titties grow and grow and leak and ache until a set of thirsty lips gave her relief. To have her body advertise in a way she would never be able to hide that she had had dirty, filthy, unprotected sex, that she had allowed some guy to bareback her, that her pussy had tasted a man's fertile seed and swallowed it all.*

*When Booker eventually slid that fat prick inside of her her pussy shook and trembled as it finally felt the length of him without that irritating rubber in the way. As he climbed on top of her and buried his cock in her to the hilt, Andrea felt the little tremors of a pre-orgasm orgasm and renounced condoms for good.*

*And as she wrapped her thin legs around his ass and he swore and she begged and the world shrunk down to contain just the two of them, her cunny sang.*

*But it wasn't until she felt the teen grunt, long and hard, against her neck, and felt the swelling of his cum-pipes and the glorious eruption of furnace-hot liquid inside of her that her pussy* shrieked *with pleasure.*

*Once her orgasm rattled to an end a few minutes later, and they exchanged small kisses and whispered words, Booker began working himself up for round two, 'just to be sure'.*

*But even she she helped him, as her mouth worked his cock and his balls back to a state of functionality, Andrea knew it wouldn't be necessary. Deep inside of her, she could feel with a mother-to-be's certainty the tiny little sperms coursing through her insides, surging through her womb. She gasped a little, against his ridge, as she felt what she imagined to be the first sperm making contact with the waiting egg. And as he lifted her ass and slid his dick back into her spermed, slippery pussy Andrea thought to herself:*

*Perhaps what they say about* The Bed *is true...*