Introduction
I’m sure you’ve already deduced that this is a sequel to an earlier story of mine titled The Great Pretender. Here’s a brief summary of it. (Of course, you are highly encouraged to read the original story in its entirety. It can be found on this website.)
Anthony Vernon, age 38, and Bonnie Clemens, age 33 are two people desperately seeking mates because they each feel that time is running out on them if they hope to get married and raise a family. They are brought together around Labor Day 1984 by Neville. He is a friend of Anthony’s who works at the same advertising agency where Bonnie is employed as a secretary. The two hit it off immediately despite Neville warning Anthony that Bonnie is a “plain Jane-type”. They are married before the end of the year.
They are excellently matched as companions, but after three months of marriage, their bedroom intimacy has dissipated as Anthony shows little interest in sex. Bonnie suspects Anthony might be secretly gay, but he just laughs at the accusation, saying he “likes girls a lot”. The truth suddenly dawns on Bonnie that her husband is more aroused by young females than adult women. For the first time in his life, Anthony confesses that he’d known of his odd preference since the age of 12. He tells a very understanding Bonnie that although he hasn’t acted on his desires with a live girl since he was 15, he possesses a stash of 19 nudist magazines from the early 1960s that were published in Norway and Sweden. They feature beautiful naked models from his preferred demographic group that he occasionally uses for masturbation purposes. Bonnie, a clever woman, announces a convenient solution: During sex, Anthony can focus on the photos in his magazines while she pretends to be one of the models he’s leering at! They do that on consecutive nights. Anthony attains massive ejaculations—and Bonnie becomes pregnant with a daughter who is born near the couple’s first wedding anniversary. As a “Christmas gift for two” Bonnie tracks known some hard-to-find later issues of the same magazines to be used for future conception attempts.
As in the original story, Anthony again provides the first-person narration.
Part One
My beloved daughter, Anna Linnea Vernon, named after two of my favorite girls from my stash of Scandinavian nudist magazines, was four months old early in April 1986. Bonnie was now approaching her 35th birthday—and I was closing in on my 40th—so time was indeed running out if we wanted to produce a brother or sister for little Anna. Together we had jointly planned to try the same impregnation method that had worked so well a year before: While I was lying in bed to do the deed, I would focus wholly on the photo essays in one of those mags “that always produced wonderful erections” as Bonnie often noted. All the while, Bonnie would busy herself pretending she was one of the Nordic cuties while riding me to a terrific orgasm. Hey, it had produced fast, positive results in 1985. Why shouldn’t it work again in 1986?
In the early evening of Thursday, April 3, the telephone rang. It was Bonnie’s cousin, a pretty, 24-year-old named Melody who lived in the same city we did. She had married a man of similar age, Baxter Rupp, on December 31. According to Bonnie, Melody was eager to become a mother as quickly as possible. I picked up the phone in the living room. I quickly exchanged pleasantries with Melody, who said Bonnie was surely expecting her phone call. That was the first I knew about it. When Bonnie heard me say Melody’s name, she deliberately left the room and picked up the extension located in the kitchen. I heard nothing of the women’s conversation, but when Bonnie returned to the living room she was on the verge of tears. I wrongly assumed there had been some sort of tragedy on Bonnie’s side of the family.
I was surprised! Bonnie was a logical, largely stoic woman, who seldom openly showed such negative emotions. I promptly embraced her and asked what was wrong.
“Oh, Anthony! I’ve let you down,” she stated with tears now freely flowing. “You’ll never forgive me!”
“Come on. It can’t be that bad,” I insisted, although I had no idea what Bonnie was talking about.
Bonnie continued, “Remember this past Saturday when I went to a bridal shower. Melody was there too. I told Melody your secret and how we got around it so I could become pregnant with Anna! It just sort of slipped out.”
Bonnie sobbed loudly while I insisted it wasn’t the end of the world—as long as Melody didn’t go around publicly blabbering my private business.
Bonnie got control of her emotions and reported to me that when she and Melody were privately chatting, Melody complained that Baxter was no longer interested in sex after just three months of marriage. “Melody told me that she noticed that Baxter constantly eyed young girls, a habit which had unnerved her. When she asked me if I thought that was totally weird, I said something like, ‘No, I know someone just like that.’ She immediately guessed that I was referring to you—and I just didn’t have the nerve to lie to her and say it wasn’t.”
“Well, as I said, if Melody just shuts up and doesn’t blab to anyone, no harm will be done,” I commented.
“That’s not the end of the story,” Bonnie added. “I said we had been in almost exactly the same sexual situation a year ago—and we figured a way to use your predilection—and your stash of nudist magazines to successfully conceive Anna. Melody was fascinated. She asked Baxter if he was turned on by pretty young things. He openly admitted it for the first time in his life—but insisted he didn’t mind the occasional fuck with Melody.”
“I still don’t see what you are so upset about ” I asked my wife. “Two married people from your side of the family now know about my secret. Since Baxter has the exact same secret, I doubt he’ll be announcing it over a megaphone anytime soon.”
Bonnie finally smiled and kissed me. “I married a gem when I married you, dear,” she claimed.
“I often say the very same thing about you, sweetheart, ” I replied.
“This story still isn’t over,” Bonnie insisted. “Melody and Baxter want to try the same thing themselves. They want to borrow a few of the magazines that worked so well for us.”
That was the first tidbit of news that irked me. Those mags probably violated some federal pornography statutes, so I had always kept them at home, never venturing anywhere with them, much less lending them to anyone.
“Okay, I’m reluctant to do this,” I said resignedly, "but if Baxter and Melody want to drop by our house sometime, they can pick out a few of the magazines and have their jollies with them the same way we do. I trust they will not keep them too long and they will return them to us in good order.”
“That’s generous of you, Anthony. It really is,” Bonnie replied, “but that’s not what they want to do. They want the four of us to get together sometime soon so they can observe how I coax a strong ejaculation from you by roll-playing and using your erotic magazines. Then we can watch them and coach them on how to do it.”
“Did they both miss a few lessons in sixth-grade sex-education class?” I asked sarcastically. “The porn and roll-playing stuff is easy. The actual sex is as basic as it gets.” I paused for a moment and said, “Oh, let me guess! You already agreed to their plan without asking me.”
“Well, yes!” admitted Bonnie. “Melody was so happy about what I had told her...and then she learned why Baxter wasn’t especially interested in intimacy...I sort of got carried away with Melody’s excitement, that I couldn’t say no without great difficulty.”
“Where and when is this weird sexual foursome supposed to occur?” I asked. “I believe you said it would be sometime soon.”
Bonnie blushed when she answered my question. “Tonight at 8 p.m. at the Royal Regency hotel. Baxter’s college buddy manages the place. One of the luxury suites is unexpectedly vacant at the moment. We can have it for almost nothing from 8 until midnight.” I looked at my wristwatch. It said the time was exactly 6:17 p.m.
I just smiled and said to Bonnie, “Sounds like a fun-filled four hours is ahead of us tonight! You phone Mrs. Simonetti next door to come and watch Anna while we’re away. She said she’d be happy to babysit Anna anytime we needed her. Take her up on her offer. Meanwhile, I’ll grab a half dozen of those magazines and put them into a travel bag. At least this way I’m not lending them to anyone."
“I’m surprised you are so open-minded about this,” Bonnie declared. “This sort of goes against our shared values.”
“I get an extra something out of this,” I informed Bonnie. “I get an up-close view of your cousin’s tits. They are really fabulous from a distance.”
“I thought you weren’t aroused by adult women!” Bonnie reminded me. “What gives?”
“I’m just like Baxter,” I said. “Once in a while I like to see what I’m missing.”
“Okay, ” Bonnie said, waving her left hand dismissively at me. “Should I tell Mrs. Simonetti where we’re going to be for four hours?”
“No, ” I suggested, “make up a plausible story, instead.”
“I’m a rotten liar, Anthony!” she stated.
I just chuckled at my beloved wife and reminded her, “I know. That’s how we got into this situation, remember?”
Part Two
Bonnie told Mrs. Simonetti that we had to deal with a family crisis, which wasn’t entirely a fib, so she was happy to take care of Anna while we dealt with this mysterious dilemma at some unnamed location. Bonnie and I met Melody and Baxter at the hotel’s coffee shop at about 7:40 p.m. We freely exchanged smiles, handshakes and hugs—then I learned that Melody was a bit of an oddball. While we were sipping our drinks, Melody said that she and Baxter would not be trying to make a baby that night—as April 3 did not align with good vibes according to her horoscope and her numerologist. We should not, however, let a bit of bad luck prevent us from pursuing our plans tonight to produce our second child. When Bonnie and I were done copulating, she and Baxter would mimic everything we did—with one notable exception. “When Baxter’s ready to come, ” she explained, “I’ll just give him a hand job to see if this Swedish porn idea works on him.”
Baxter gave me a look that said with his eyes alone, “Look what I have to put up with!”
The key to Suite #4 was secured from the front desk. Baxter was told the room was on the house as long as we vacated it before midnight. We all quickly agreed to do so.
There was an enormous bed at the far end of the suite, situated near a spectacular bathroom. I suspected we’d all be using its shower before we went home. I opened up the travel bag and pulled out six magazines in total, three from the collection of 19 I’d had for years, and three from the batch that Bonnie had found somewhere—she would never divulge where she got them. I set them on a table. Baxter practically ran across the room to see them when he knew what they were. One of my three was my all-time favorite—for obvious reasons. Baxter quickly found its main attraction.
“This Swedish girl—the one whose name is Anna—she has to be the most beautiful female I’ve ever seen in my life!” he blurted. “Sorry, my dear,” he said to Melody, “I’m just being honest about things. Do you agree with me, Anthony?”
“Let’s just say she has a four-month-old namesake at the Vernon household who was conceived because of her sexy photos in that magazine!”
Baxter roared laughing. “Mind if I use Anna for my pleasure tonight, my friend?” he politely asked me.
“And my pleasure, too?” Melody added.
I didn’t actually say yes to Baxter. We were all too busy laughing.
When we all got our composure back, I chose a magazine from among the new ones I had gotten as a Christmas gift. I began to browse through it for an appropriate fantasy fuck. I found a girl similar to Anna named Rosell. She was also Swedish and she had the same body type as lovely Anna. Maybe she had a year on her, too. Rosell was dark-haired, however, defying the wildly inaccurate stereotype that all Swedes are blondes. There was an excellent photo essay that captured Rosell in a forest where colored leaves had freshly fallen from the trees. She seems to be exploring herself and her surroundings at the same time. The photographer was a real pro. I was tempted to send him a heartfelt fan letter some 20 years after these pics had first been published. One photo where Rosell was lying in a pile of leaves with her legs spread and her left index finger just above her bald vagina was the clincher. “It’s this girl tonight, Bonnie. Tonight, you’re Rosell!”
“Oh, dear Lord!” Baxter exclaimed upon seeing the photo essay of Rosell. “She’s gorgeous, too. Those two girls are 1A and 1B in my book! I just have to borrow these magazines from you sometime, Anthony.”
“Apart from tonight, these don’t leave my house,” I informed Baxter rather harshly, which I did not mean to do. I quickly made amends to him by saying he was welcome to come to the house sometime and we could both enjoy the magazines’ wonderful pictures together. I gave him the unofficial, but easily understood, international hand signal for masturbation: a closed fist going up and down. Baxter got the message and nodded. The two women in the suite rolled their eyes at us, but Baxter and I thought that would be time well spent.
Part Three
It dawned on Bonnie and Me that Melody and Baxter were eagerly waiting for us to begin. We were both a bit hesitant. This was absolutely a new situation for us. We had never had sex with or in front of other people, which was about to happen, nor had we been spectators to a sexual act by others, which would occur not too long after our performance had concluded. I got undressed faster than Bonnie. I was eager to display my manhood to Melody as it was reputed to be slightly bigger and thicker than average. Later I’d get to see Melody’s appealing breasts, so I figured the size of my penis somehow made things even.
“Let me see your goodies, Bonnie!” joked Baxter. “Maybe they’ll combine with Anna’s little treasures to help me get an erection.”
Bonnie complied. “Happy now, Baxter?” she asked him without expecting an answer. “I have work to do now if I want to leave this hotel suite pregnant.”
Melody and Baxter remained clothed as Bonnie and I occupied the center of the king-size bed. Rosell’s photo essay was within easy reach of my left hand. “Just observe and learn!” I told the two spectators. Those were the last two words I spoke for the next 20 minutes, unless you count grunts and moans. I grabbed the magazine, gazed upon its subject and became immediately aroused.
I was deeply focused on the pictures of Rosell, so I only barely heard Baxter say, “Attaboy, Anthony! Way to get it up! Well done!” I believe Melody shushed him so Bonnie (and Rosell) and I could concentrate on our task.
It took no time at all for Bonnie to get back into roll-playing mode despite not having done it in more than a year. That impressed me. As far as I was concerned, at that moment I was being spoken to by Rosell herself—and I loved it.
“Hello, Anthony! This is your Swedish darling, Rosell. How are you? I’m here to fuck you. Isn’t that wonderful? You brought your big dick to please me! I’m so happy you did. It’s so big and stiff already, Anthony! Let me play with it, please! I bet you like it when I stroke it, huh? Oh, it’s getting even harder. Let me suck on it, Anthony!”
At this point Bonnie gave me a blowjob for only the second time since we had known each other. As my face couldn’t see anything beyond Rosell’s pretty photos, I fully imagined it was the darling little nudist performing the sex act on me instead of my devoted wife. I had never been this hard in my life!
“I have to ride that dick of yours Anthony. I’m coming aboard!” I could feel my dick being mounted. Bonnie painted a wonderful description with words alone. “Oh, it’s so big, Anthony! Fuck my tight, bald pussy! Yes, like that! Do you like my tiny tits? Do those burgeoning buds turn you on? I knew they would! Come inside me, Anthony! Please! I want you to do it right now!”
I had the presence of mind to toss the magazine aside and grab Bonnie’s waist with both my hands for about five seconds, lifting her up and down on my rigid rod. Bonnie/Rosell was about to give me more encouragement to have an orgasm, but that wasn’t necessary. I exploded inside Bonnie’s wonderful pussy. It felt like I lost a pint of semen in my wife’s love channel. Bonnie was smart enough not to move, giving herself the best opportunity to keep the greatest percentage of my load where destiny said it should go. Bonnie, while still riding me, fell forward gently so we could kiss. We did, for several wonderful minutes.
“Thanks, Bonnie,” I whispered lovingly to her.
“I think you ought to thank Rosell, wherever she may be in 1986, ” Bonnie replied.
“Nope, you’re the real deal, sweetheart. Rosell is just an image, just a fantasy. Okay, she’s a wonderful image and fantasy to me, but you’re the one who will be delivering our next baby in early January.” I turned out to be prescient about that.
Bonnie and I showered together, for fun. When we came back to the bed area, we were surprised to see Baxter and Melody already well underway with their coital adventure. Melody seemed to have memorized Bonnie’s soliloquies verbatim. The only difference was that Baxter had his face buried in the magazine featuring Anna, so Melody had to call herself by that name.
Despite not wanting to even risk becoming pregnant on April 3, 1986, Melody did give Baxter a thorough riding, but she rose from his dick well before he ejaculated. The surprise of the night came when Baxter asked, “Anna, will your friend Rosell jerk me until I come?”
“On one condition,” replied Bonnie/Rosell from 20 feet away. I’ll do that if my lover, Anthony, gets to fondle Anna’s tits! I understand that he really likes them. Deal, Anna?”
“Okay, it’s a deal!” Baxter and Melody/Anna excitedly said.
I didn’t have long to enjoy my unexpected benefit. I hustled to a spot on the huge bed where I could wrap my arms around Melody and caress her sexy jugs. I also planted kisses on the nape of her neck. Seconds later Baxter’s penis exploded with a goo geyser. Luckily Bonnie had not dressed yet, or her clothes would have been covered with Baxter’s sperm. Instead, all she needed was a second hot, cleansing shower. While she was washing up again, I quietly ejaculated on Melody’s back. The output wasn’t anywhere near the impressive amount that Baxter had just fired in Bonnie’s direction, but I was proud of myself for having two orgasms in so short a time. I had last achieved that feat during the 1960s—about the same time the magazines had been produced.
I was also grateful for two other things. First, Bonnie was sharp enough to jerk off Baxter so that his cum shot went completely in the opposite direction of where the magazine had been casually dropped on the other side of the bed. Having Baxter’s sperm desecrate any of Anna’s fabulous photos would have been nothing short of a catastrophe. Basically, it appeared that Bonnie had taken one for the team. She later confirmed that’s what she had done. Now I had even more reason to love my wife.
Secondly, I was also pleasantly surprised by Melody’s startling compliance when Bonnie asked if I could grope her goodies. “Your tits are a national treasure!” I told her, with only the slightest bit of hyperbole. Honestly, they were exquisite things to handle.
Based on Melody’s tits being responsible for my second orgasm—and not some petite girl with a Swedish name—for the smallest moment, I wondered if I had suddenly outgrown my fondness for the magazines’ youthful models. About a minute later, I opened one of the newer Norwegian publications that I had never looked at before. That’s when I saw a photo essay featuring a lovely lass oozing femininity named Sunniva. Without a doubt, she had the most beautiful, long, curly, golden hair I had ever seen on any living creature. I quickly waved Baxter to come to the table to have a long look at her before he went for a shower.
“Your opinion, please!” I asked him, already having a fair idea what his answer would be.
“Unbelievable!” he stated. “Now we have 1A, 1B and 1C.”