This story is probably true.
In our city there are no less than two world class IVF clinics, and we have several friends who work in the field. During a dinner party one evening in which the red wine flowed rather too freely, we began to challenge them – mostly playfully - about the cost of programmes and their success at making money out of people’s misfortune as well as babies.
It wasn’t a fair criticism, but it did prompt a raft of stories around the table, one of which concerned ‘Charlotte , a long-term client of theirs who, after years of unsuccessful treatments, suddenly produced three healthy babies in quick succession – apparently naturally.
Our friends were much too discreet to let slip the identities of the individuals involved, but they are fairly confident from consultations after the first natural conception of the ’donor’s’ and his relationship to their client.
I found the whole idea intriguing and could possibly even imagine myself in similar circumstances...
I hope you can too.
The happy sounds of small children laughing and splashing echoed off the white painted walls of the neatly kept villas that surrounded the clear blue water of the large, private swimming pool. I took another sip of my gin and tonic and watched my grown-up son and his wife playing happily with their three year old boy in his armbands and their eighteen month old daughter who bobbed in the water in her bright yellow swim ring.
I looked across at my own lovely wife Jane who sat reading her book across the table from me in the shade of a large umbrella. Even after all these years she was still very attractive. It was hard to think of her as the mother of a grown up child and a Grandmother too but then, I mused, we had started our family when we were still quite young. There was a lot to be said for an early start to a family, as I now knew very well.
As if knowing instinctively I was thinking of her, Jane looked up from her book and smiled at me. I smiled back, nodding towards the young family before us. She grinned indulgently and went back to her reading as I watched the heart-warming scene a little longer, thinking how much it brought back happy memories of the two of us in the same pool with our own child over twenty years before.
The playing slowed a little and Charlotte – ‘Charlie’ to the family - our pregnant daughter-in-law, stood up in the shallow water before taking her son Jack by the hand and leading him up the shallow steps towards their sun beds and the pile of towels lying there. As she began to dry him carefully, I was reminded just how beautiful she undoubtedly was; even more so when, as now, her pregnancy was starting to show.
Although a difficult time for many, some girls seemed to take pregnancy in their stride, I reflected, and Charlotte was definitely one of the fortunate ones; her long dark hair positively shone, her eyes sparkled and her slightly tanned skin was fresh and clear. She still moved gracefully despite the swelling in her belly that was now becoming noticeable and, if her previous two pregnancies were anything to judge by, would continue to do so almost to the very end.
That was ironic, I thought, given that it had taken so long and so much unhappiness for her to conceive in the first place.
To me, the biological father of her two children and the unborn child within her belly, she seemed especially beautiful. But that was a secret only she and I shared, and one which we must take with us to the grave.
Charlotte turned away for a moment and I chuckled as her cheeky son made a quick dash back towards the pool. His mother gave playful chase, skipping after him across the grass before scooping him into her arms a few feet from the water and tickling him enthusiastically in mock punishment for his attempted escape. Once his compliance was assured, she surreptitiously re-adjusted her miniscule clothing. I pretended not to notice.
Once satisfied with Jack, Charlotte dried herself off on another big blue towel, laid it out on the sun bed and stretched herself out after rubbing both herself and her son liberally with sun cream while my son Adam played with little Emily a while longer. They were obviously father and daughter. Everyone said so - she clearly had his features which, as he and I are very obviously father and son, should be no surprise. Indeed this was one of the main reasons Charlotte had asked me to impregnate her three times.
As I watched surreptitiously, Charlotte rolled over onto her side to watch over Jack playing with his toys - lying on her front in her condition was now uncomfortable if not yet impossible – and in doing so unconsciously turned her slim, feminine, barely-covered bottom towards my wife and me. I glanced across at Jane whose gaze was still firmly fixed on her book, then back at the shapely, sexy figure before me.
How many times had we made love? I closed my eyes and thought back. It had taken nearly three months of lovemaking to conceive Jack; barely eight weeks for Emily and fewer still for the baby growing inside her now.
More than enough to provide lifelong memories of delight. I lay back in the sun, closed my eyes and remembered how it had all started some four years ago.
Charlotte and our only child Adam had been happily married for more than ten years. Both high-flying Graduates with research posts at the top University at which they had studied, met and married, at first they had concentrated hard on their careers.
For many years it had never quite the right time – professionally - to start a family. They had worked and studied very hard and had been blessed with considerable academic success, but as is the way with academia, the financial rewards had been somewhat meagre.
Eventually however, the sound of body clocks ticking had become louder and louder until at the age of thirty they finally began ‘trying for a baby’.
After a few years of trying and with no subsequent pregnancy, it became clear that something was definitely wrong. Charlotte being the practical half of their relationship, it fell to her to do something to improve the situation and, after a few heated conversations, Adam finally agreed they should both go to see their doctor.
To cut a long story short, they found out that there was a problem and that the problem was Adam. Typical of our beloved only son, Adam’s problem couldn’t have just been a low sperm count that could have been fairly simply addressed. No, his situation turned out to be a complicated issue involving malfunctioning sperm which he apparently produced in prodigious quantities but which were mostly incapable of fertilising Charlotte’s eggs.
Natural conception was deemed highly unlikely so, in their mid-thirties, they embarked on a series of complicated IVF programmes designed to select the best, most promising sperm and assist them artificially in the onerous task of fertilising Charlotte’s eggs. This involved her going on powerful fertility drugs for long periods which played merry hell with her hormones and resulted in more frequent and more emotional rows than their happy marriage had so far encountered.
The first two rounds of IVF were paid for by the National Health Service but when these both failed the couple were on their own financially. IVF programmes are extremely expensive and Adam’s ‘problem’ meant that they needed treatment at the higher end of the already high cost scale, but as they grew older and increasingly desperate to have a child, they spent more and more money on more and more rounds of IVF until eventually all their savings had gone, along with most of the equity in their Victorian semi-detached house.
Unhesitatingly, Jane and I loaned them enough money for two more programmes – both predictably unsuccessful – but after that we had no savings left either, apart from my meagre pension fund. Charlotte’s parents were in no position to help at all, her father having died a few years previously, leaving her mother with a comfortable widow’s pension but with no spare cash.
There was nothing to do but save. After a year’s frugal living, and by selling Charlotte's car and borrowing against the final bit of equity in their house, they were at last able to afford a seventh round of IVF, using a new, recently developed technique.
At first, to our astonishment, this seemed to have been successful. Charlotte had even said she felt different inside – her hair had gone glossy - and for a few blissful weeks we all started to believe that they might actually, finally, have conceived, although none of us dared to say this out loud, as if terrified of ‘tempting fate.’
Nevertheless we all began to make secret plans for having a baby in the house. Having no cash meant that DIY was very much a necessity and I took some time off my work as a builder in order to help repair and decorate their badly maintained house. A good two weeks’ work would be required just on the exterior woodwork, which meant that I would be around their house a great deal. Adam and Charlotte were still working full time so I had the house to myself, which frankly I prefer. I can concentrate better and work faster if I’m not disturbed.
It took three full days to make good the worst of the damage that years of neglect (and insufficient money) had caused, and I was about to begin the lengthy process of painting the results of my handiwork when I heard an unexpected sound from inside the kitchen.
Believing myself to be alone in the house, at first I suspected a burglar but, as I climbed down the ladder and crept round the corner to the kitchen window, I saw my beautiful daughter-in-law Charlotte sitting at the kitchen table, a bloodstained cloth in her hands, her shoulders heaving up and down silently.
Silently opening the door, I slowly entered the room. Charlotte didn’t even acknowledge my presence; she just carried on crying and wringing the cloth between her fingers.
“Charlie? Charlie! What’s the matter?” I asked softly, pulling up a stool, placing one hand on her forearm and wrapping my other arm around her shoulders.
She made a few half-strangled noises as if incapable of talking so I just hugged her close to me in silence. At first this seemed to make things even worse; her sobbing became much stronger and huge salty tears flowed down her cheeks and onto mine, but eventually she began to recover a little of her composure and a little of her powers of speech.
“Can you tell me now?” I asked when she seemed calm enough to respond.
Charlotte twisted the bloody cloth in her hands once again and I realised it was a pair of panties - her panties presumably, covered in blood. She hurled them into the corner of the room.
“My time of the month has come.” She said in broken sobs. “I’ve miscarried!”
It took a few seconds for the real implication of this to register with me. It meant that their seventh round of IVF treatment – the one we had all hoped and prayed had succeeded - had failed like all the previous rounds.
She was not pregnant. Again.
“All our savings have gone… And we borrowed all that money from you too…” She was saying.
I put my arm back around her shoulders and hugged her close.
“You know Jane and I don’t expect that money back, don’t you?” I said in an attempt to reassure her. “We know how important this is to you both. It’s important to us too – Adam is our only child and we want to see the two of you happy.”
“But we can’t just keep throwing money down the drain.” She continued, her voice broken by tears. “We should have a decent house for our family now instead of living in this... hovel and spending every last penny on... on fucking IVF!”
In all the years I had known her, I don’t think I had ever heard Charlotte use the ‘f’ word before. I stood and, taking a tall glass from the cupboard, filled it with cold water before placing it on the table in front of her. She took it and drank half in one single gulp.
“Thanks Tony.” She said, her voice much better controlled now. “I just felt so… so alone…”
“You’re not alone!” I assured her quietly. “You know we’re always here if you need us. And don’t think we’ll always tell Adam everything you tell us. You’re as much our daughter now!”
“I just can’t bear the thought of telling him!” She said. “This is the end, isn’t it? There’s nowhere left to go – and no more money.”
I stroked her cheek reassuringly as she carried on.
“But he will still want to keep trying!” She sobbed. “He’s going to bankrupt us! I can’t let that happen! But I can’t destroy his dreams either, can I? I love him too much! What can I do?”
“Then don’t tell him!” I said. “At least not yet.”
“What?” She asked, for the first time raising her head.
“Go and wash your face. I’ll make the tea and we’ll talk this through now – before Adam gets home.”
Fifteen minutes later the two of us sat at the kitchen table sipping steaming hot mugs of tea. Charlotte looked a lot better. Her face, devoid of make-up, was pale, pink and puffy but was improving before my eyes.
“I’m sorry I got so hysterical.” She was saying. I dismissed the idea.
“It’s only natural. I’m so, so sorry for the two of you.” I replied. She smiled ruefully. “Are you able to talk now?”
Her eyes were still a little tearful but she nodded.
“Shall we try and look at it logically?” I asked, appealing to the common-sense girl I knew she was. She nodded again.
“Did the Doctors talk about alternatives” I asked. “If it really didn’t work out for you?”
“Shall we work through them? One by one?” She sighed heavily, then nodded again.
“Well, shall we start with more IVF?” I proposed.
“I can’t, Tony! Not again! Apart from the money, I just can’t go through all that again, not just to have our hopes smashed to pieces yet another time. And those fertility drugs make me… well we have terrible rows when I’m on them.”
She thought further.
“And even if we had the money, I couldn’t bear to pour it down the drain again. We need to get on with our lives! Even if it means living without children!”
“Did you think about adopting?”
“We’ve talked about it.” She replied, gradually calming down as I had hoped. “But it wouldn’t be OUR child in the same way, would it?” She looked troubled. “I know it’s a terrible thing to say, but neither of us was keen and it takes so long…”
“Well, what other options are there? You know better than I do what the Doctors told you.”
She thought hard.
“I guess the only realistic route would be to use a donor – a sperm donor. But that’s a problem too. Firstly there’s a shortage since the new rules came in and it costs twice as much as normal IVF... And even if it works the baby would most likely look like its biological father, not Adam.” She paused for breath.
“He or she might even go looking for their real father when they’re older. I’ve seen the TV programmes.” She paused, trying to hold back the tears. “I can’t ask Adam to bring up a child that reminds him every day that he couldn’t make one himself…”
She began crying again. I slipped my arm around her heaving shoulders and hugged her until the worst of the sobbing died away. My heart ached for her – for both of them.
“I just don’t know how I can tell Adam when he comes home tonight!” She said, her voice catching in her throat. “I just don’t! I’m worried how he might take it.”
“Would you like me – or Jane – to be here? Or both of us? Moral support?” I suggested.
Charlotte appeared to summon a little extra inner strength because she wiped her eyes and pulled herself together in front of me.
“Thanks Tony but... I think this is something we’ve got to handle ourselves... just the two of us.”
I felt a little better about it. At least her last words seemed to show she had regained some of her self-control.
“It’s time to decide what we’re going to do with our lives. We can’t go on like this any longer.”
This was more like the Charlotte I knew and loved.
“I understand Charlie. But remember I’m here if you need me – we both are. It might not always feel this way but you’re not alone. Ever!”
The next morning I approached the house with a feeling of dread.
I had told Jane the bad news the previous evening and it had taken all my powers of persuasion to prevent her calling Adam on the phone immediately. This was a matter for him and Charlotte to work out between themselves, I insisted, at their own time and in private.
How would it be, I asked, if she burst into tears on the phone to Adam before Charlotte had been able to break the news to him herself?
It was hard for Jane to overcome her motherly instincts towards both of them but in the end she agreed. When I went to the house the following morning I would be able to see for myself.
So it was with low expectations and a heavy heart that I knocked on the kitchen door at eight o’clock the following morning. Adam’s car was not in its usual place which meant he had gone to work. That had to be a good sign. The door was slow in being answered. That might be a bad one.
Eventually Charlotte opened the door and held it open while I carried a box of brushes and paint into the kitchen. She was fully dressed in leggings and a loose T-shirt which I took to be a good sign too – at least she wasn’t too depressed to look after herself – indeed as she greeted me I saw little in the way of despair about her at all. No, she had the demeanour of someone who was in control – not at all what I expected.
“How are you feeling today?” I asked with what I hoped was a sympathetic look on my face.
“I’m ok...” She sighed. “There wasn’t much pain. I felt sick all day but that might have been nerves – I still don’t know how I managed to tell Adam without breaking down completely.”
“How did you manage it?” I asked, concerned. “How did it go?”
“It didn’t go well.” She said, pouring hot water into two mugs and adding a tea bag. “In fact it was worse than I had expected.” She passed me a steaming mug and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table.
“He looked like the world had crashed down on his shoulders.” She continued. “I hadn’t realised just how much he had built on the hope that this time it would work.” Her voice was getting agitated. “I tried to warn him – we all did – that you can’t ever be sure until after at least twelve weeks but...” She ran out of words but her expression spoke volumes.
“Where is he now?” I asked.
“He’s gone to work.” She replied. “Though how he’ll concentrate I can’t imagine.” She turned to me.
“Tony, I’ve never seen him so... strange. Last night he was devastated – as if the centre had dropped out of his world. Today he’s manic, going on and on about yet more IVF and looking for new treatments. He’s even talking about America!”
She paused and her face became serious.
“Can I be honest with you?” She asked.
“I think... well I think he’s worried that I’ll eventually leave him because he can’t give me a child.” My eyebrows must have soared in silent question. “It’s utter nonsense! Nonsense!” She went on. “I love him so much! He’s the one obsessed with having children, not me. I’d like to have them too of course but it’s him I love. It’s him I want to be with – with or without kids.”
The tears were back in her eyes but she didn’t seem to notice.
“I’ve tried to get him to understand this but he’s got the idea fixed in his mind. I can’t let it happen Tony, I can’t. He’ll bankrupt us, create more expectation and disappointment and then what will happen?”
I made to put my arm around her shoulders but she moved away slightly, took a deep breath and sat up straight as if steeling herself for a difficult task. I was amazed. I had always known her to be a strong, though quiet person and more than a match for our son in terms of confidence, but when she spoke her words took my completely by surprise.
“I’ve made a decision. It’s a big decision! I’ve been awake most of the night thinking about it and waiting for you to arrive.”
I could believe that; she looked dog-tired and I wondered what on earth she was going to say. When she spoke it was almost like a rehearsed speech – clear and precise – but I noticed she couldn’t look me in the eye.
“I can’t risk losing the man I love, but I know only one thing will make him happy. “ She said. “We have to have a baby. We have no money for more IVF – even with your generous help - and it probably wouldn’t work anyway. Adopting will not make either of us happy.”
She drew in a deep breath and spoke quickly, as if desperate to get the words out.
“I’ve decided that I simply have to get pregnant. There’s no alternative. I’m going to have to use a sperm donor and I want it to be you!”
So saying, she sat back in her chair and looked me straight in the eye. I sat back too, gobsmacked, trying to make sense of what my daughter-in-law had just said to me.
“Um...” I said, sounding stupid. “Wow, Charlie! Um...This is a bit of a shock.”
She said nothing, clearly waiting for me to say something meaningful.
“You want me to donate my sperm so you can have a baby?”
“Yes, Tony. I do. It would be the most wonderful gift you could give to both of us – although I don’t want Adam ever to know.”
“Golly! I’m flattered... Why me?”
“You’re the only man I can turn to. The only one I can trust. But there are real advantages, too!” She was getting animated now.
“Think about it! For one thing, you’re the closest to Adam’s DNA. The baby would most likely look like you and so look like him too! For a second thing, I know I can trust you utterly and completely never to tell anyone , ever – not even Adam or Jane – that I used your sperm and not his.“
“Golly!” I said again, still astonished, trying to get my mind around the idea.
“There are a couple of problems though.” Charlotte continued, this time looking into my face closely.
“Only a couple?” I laughed, my head spinning.
“If we use a lab then there will be records. Legal records. Donor children have rights – including the right to find their genetic father when they’re older. We’d never be able to hide the fact from Adam – or Jane.”
“Ok...” I said. “And the other little problem?”
“IVF using donor sperm is expensive. I mean really expensive!” I sighed; the money problem once again. “There’s no money left to pay for it so there’s only one solution...”
She drew in another deep breath.
“I want you to make me pregnant... the natural way!”
My mouth dropped wide open. Had I really heard that? Had I misunderstood something? I could only stammer in response.
“You mean... I... we... you want me... us...”
“I want you to have sex with me Tony, and to keep on having sex with me until I’m pregnant!”
An hour later we were still sitting in the kitchen, by now drinking strong black coffee from small cups, both of us in need of a stimulant. The initial shock having to some extent passed, I was now feeling helpless at the extent of the plans my daughter-in-law had made during the night, and was expounding to me with enthusiastic detail.
My head was spinning. The whole situation felt quite unreal and I was still only digesting part of all she was saying to me.
“...and I’ve been on fertility drugs so often I know exactly when my most fertile period is.... we would need to do it every day... twice a day when I’m ovulating... I’d have to lie down for an hour afterwards... maximise the chances... might not take long... make us both so, so happy... Please say you’ll at least think about it?”
She eventually stopped talking and I tried to comprehend it all.
To be honest, without the very obvious and very large problem that I would be having sex repeatedly with my son’s wife, it all made very clear logical sense.
My DNA was undeniably very close to Adam’s. Although Charlotte was as close as a daughter to me, I was not actually a blood relative so there would be no worries about incest and possible birth defects. And if only the two of us ever knew, then there would be no problems with secrecy.
“Where would we... meet to... do it?” I asked.
“Here!” she immediately replied. “Where better? You’re going to be around here on your own for a few weeks aren’t you, working on the house – we’re so grateful for that, you do know that don’t you? And I’m only working part time this term to ‘recover from my miscarriage’. There’s no reason for anyone to suspect anything!”
“What would you do about Adam?” I asked anxiously. “If you did get pregnant he would need to believe it was his!”
“I’ve thought about that too,” she said. “I’ve got an appointment with the specialist tomorrow. I’m going to tell Adam that I’ve been asked if we’ll take part in a clinical trial of some special new fertility drugs. I’ll say that they aren’t properly approved yet but the doctors feel so sorry for us that they’d like to give us the chance at least to try. For free!”
“So you’ll keep on… trying… with him at the same time?”
“I’ll have to or he won’t believe it’s his child.”
“But if you... do it... with him as well as me he’ll... well, he’ll notice. If we’re doing it twice a day you… well, I’m sorry to be a bit crude but your body will look different… down there… won’t it?”
Charlotte seemed to think this over for a minute.
“It’s ok. I’ll just tell him that one of the side effects of the drugs is to cause… a bit of inflammation there.” She laughed. “I’ll probably be sore anyway if we do it as much as I think we need.”
I had to admit, it did hold together as a plan. “So what would you really take?”
“High dosage folic acid,” she immediately replied. “It’s a good thing to take anyway and it comes in almost unmarked packs so it could be anything.”
“You really have thought it through.” I said, impressed.
“And of course there wouldn’t be any... complications between us – like falling in love with each other and spoiling our marriages! It would just be... insemination.”
“If... if we did agree... to do it... when... when would you want to start?” I asked, quietly.
“The sooner we start, the sooner I can get pregnant.” She replied. “I would take you upstairs now!” She laughed but I could tell she was at least partly serious. “But realistically, after the miscarriage, it’s likely I will become fertile very quickly – my body sort of compensating for its loss – so the sooner the better. “
“I need to think about this, Charlie. Can you give me twenty-four hours?”
“Of course! And I’ll still love you if you say no.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “But I really hope you’ll agree. You could save our marriage, our financial future and our happiness.”
She paused then her face broke into an amazing cheeky grin alongside a bright red blush.
“And to be honest, you might actually enjoy the process too! How often in your life will you get an offer like this?”
So, a beautiful woman, young enough to be my daughter and with the sweetest temperament imaginable had asked me to have sex with her on a daily basis and to keep doing so until, putting it crudely, I had knocked her up! No strings. No risk.
An easy decision for me to make? Not one bit of it!
Having lost most of the morning talking to Charlotte about her extraordinary plan, I found it difficult to concentrate on my work for whole of the rest of the day. It was only when she went to her work after lunch that I managed to make progress. I left their house early, before she came home.
That evening I was very distracted – my wife Jane noticed and asked me several times what was wrong. I mumbled something about feeling sorry for Adam and Charlotte which was enough to set Jane off on a long discourse about the unfairness of nature and how they would both make fantastic parents. I was relieved not to have to contribute to the one way conversation.
I spent most of the night awake, trying not to think about the words ‘betrayal’, ‘cheating’ and ‘immoral’ and focusing on the words ‘helping’, ‘inseminating’ and of course ‘making them so, so happy.”
By morning I was exhausted and had a splitting headache, but had made up my mind. I wasn’t planning to visit the house that day – another urgent job had arisen – so I called Charlotte’s mobile from my pickup about eight-thirty when I was sure Adam would have left for work.
When she answered, her anxious tone of voice told me she hadn’t had much sleep either.
“Hi Tony.” Short and to the point.
“I’ve... I’ve been thinking about... what you suggested yesterday...”
“Yes...” she said. I could feel the worry in her voice. “So have I. All night actually.”
“Well... Did you come to a decision?” she asked.
“Are you still sure it’s what you want? I mean absolutely certain it’s what’s best for you both, not just Adam?”
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
It was my turn for the deep breath today. I took one and said:
“Then I’m happy to help you in any way I can.”
I could hear an outburst of joy at the other end of the line, followed by a slightly tearful voice.
“Thank you so much, Tony. You don’t know what this means to me... and will mean to us!”
“I just hope it works.” I said, feeling a lot happier myself after hearing her delight.
“It will work, I know it!” she said.
“So... um... “ I didn’t quite know how to go on from here. “When shall I... shall we...?”
“Can you be here tomorrow? Eight o’clock?”
“Yes of course.”
“Then I’ll be ready for you.” There was a pause. “Tony?”
“Thank you so, so much!”
Having made the decision and convinced myself it was for the right reasons I slept easier that night but was by no means untroubled. I had allayed my conscience about betraying my wife and son but a whole new set of worries came into my mind.
I hadn’t had sex with anyone other than my wife for nearly thirty years. We had a fairly active sex life still so I knew I had no serious problems in the erection department, but what if my nerves failed me with Charlotte and I couldn’t perform?
And how did one behave in bed with a girl young enough to be one’s daughter? What would her expectations be? Would she want and expect foreplay? If so, what should I do? Had the rules of the game changed greatly over the last thirty years?
Eventually though, I fell asleep, waking my usual five minutes before the alarm was due to go off. I made tea for Jane and myself, then showered, shaved and dressed for work. Well I made sure I had trimmed what limited facial and body hair I had to make myself as presentable as possible,
I felt as nervous as a girl on a hot first date!
Jane isn’t much of a morning person, so she didn’t notice the extra care I was taking but it was still a relief when seven-thirty came and I jumped into my loaded pickup and drove across town, pulling into Adam and Charlotte’s driveway just as the ‘pips’ on the radio announced it was eight o’clock.
I climbed slowly out of the cab and crossed to the kitchen door where I knocked nervously.
There was a shuffling sound from within and the door opened somewhat tentatively. In the relative darkness of the kitchen Charlotte looked younger and more innocent than I had ever seen her. Dressed in a fluffy white robe she smelled sweetly of bath oil. Her hair had been brushed until it shone and she had avoided all make-up. At least ten years had slipped away from her.
“Hello Tony,” she said, her voice alive with nerves.
“Hello Charlie.” I replied equally unsurely as I stepped into the house, following her into the small room.
I watched in silence as she made our usual two cups of tea and we sat and sipped them carefully. Eventually I felt I had to ask; to be sure I wasn’t about to make a terrible mistake.
“Are you... still sure you want to do this?” To my surprise my voice was quite unsteady.
In reply she nodded emphatically. “As long as you’re still ok with the idea... and all the implications...”
I had thought of little else since our conversation the previous evening. I could live with it as long as it remained our secret and made the two of them happy.
“How do you want to... um... do it?” I whispered. She blushed pink.
“I… I thought we’d go to the guest room and... If you want a shower... I’ll wait for you...” Her voice was trembling now.
“That’s fine Charlie. Any way you like. It’s entirely your decision and if you change your mind...” I left the words hanging in the air.
Small talk was quite impossible with the task ahead of us. We finished our tea quickly and in silence. Two minutes later I was in the shower for a second time within an hour, feeling the hot water on my skin. I looked down at my body. Not too bad for a man in his late-fifties I thought wryly; probably a result of the physical nature of my job.
I was already half erect. Thank God that’s not something I’ll have a problem with today, I thought, offering a silent prayer of thanks.
After a minute or two I rinsed myself clean, turned off the water and stepped out of the cubicle, drying myself off on a fresh white towel Charlotte had clearly placed for my use.
A fresh new towel; a fresh new bath robe. Clearly Charlotte had decided to indicate a fresh start. I wrapped the towel round my waist and walked through onto the landing.
The door to the guest room was half open. To my surprise, inside all was bathed in bright sunlight and for a minute I thought Charlotte had changed her mind and remained downstairs but, as I stepped into the room, I saw her bath robe lying neatly across the chair and there in the double bed, under a crisp new white sheet, was my beautiful daughter in law.
She was naked. I inhaled sharply and she smiled in an embarrassed way. I felt my erection straining hard against the towel round my waist. Was it really going to happen? Was this all a dream?
I crossed over to the bedside and took the corner of the sheet in my hand. Charlotte let it slip through her fingers as I gently pulled it away to reveal her soft, naked body on the bed below.
I sat on the edge of the bed and gently touched the smooth skin of her lower leg. At first she pulled her knees together in instinctive modesty but then seemed to realise the futility of this and tried to force herself to relax.
Her exposed nipples however, were hard and pointed giving away her aroused condition.
I stroked her leg in silence, my hand working its way upwards towards her thigh, remembering what we had said to each other the previous evening. ‘It’s not an affair, it’s just insemination...’ ‘We will make it as clinical as possible...We won’t even kiss...’ ‘It’s not as if we’re going to fall in love, is it..?’ ‘Adam will be so happy. It’s what he wants most in his whole life...’
“Are you ready?” I whispered, holding the hand that was wrapped around her knees. Charlotte breathed deeply, nodded and in a gesture that made my chest ache, parted her shapely legs as if to welcome me to her soft, perfect body.
I stood and, dropping my towel to let my erection free, knelt between her open thighs.
For a few moments I gazed at her lovely body. Long, slim legs topped by a fading pale white triangle where her bikini bottoms would have been; a slight feminine roundness of her hips and an even slighter softness of the tummy.
She looked so young and so beautiful – there was something almost pure and wholesome about her.
Below her tummy was the lightest covering of natural pubic hair in a tiny V shape that slipped deep between her thighs. I placed a hand under each knee and spread her legs still wider and the outer lips of her vulva parted, revealing the dark pinkness of her slit within.
I leaned over her body and took my weight on my left arm, my right hand on my erection, directing it towards her waiting vagina. She drew in her breath suddenly as my smooth head touched her lips.
“Still OK?” I whispered. She nodded.
I began to rub my head up and down her slit, seeking her opening. She felt a little dry but I quickly found her entrance and wiggled the head between her inner lips.
I pressed forwards. Charlotte uttered a soft gasp of discomfort as my erection was stopped in its tracks. I winced in pain.
“You’re a bit dry...” I whispered, terrified of upsetting her.
“Sorry. I’m nervous,” she said, embarrassed. “It happens to me sometimes. It’s not because of you, trust me.”
“I could... do something to help?” I suggested. My words were intended to be helpful but when I said them all I could think was that I had made me sound ‘dirty’. Fortunately Charlotte’s mind worked differently from mine.
“Maybe if it happens again,” she replied sincerely. “Just a sec...”
She reached behind the pillow and pulled out a tube of KY jelly. Squeezing a little onto her fingers, she reached down and rubbed it into and around her inner lips and vagina.
“Should be easier now...” she said, smiling up at me.
Smiling in relief, I rubbed my head up and down her slit for a second time, feeling the coolness of the jelly on its sensitive tip until it found and parted her inner lips again.
This time when I pressed forwards, my erection entered her smoothly.
The shock of finding my erect penis inside the first new female body it had encountered for well over twenty years made me gasp aloud. Charlotte gasped too as I slipped easily half way into her passage before pausing, my eyes wide in amazement.
We had actually done it! I had actually penetrated my son’s wife.
Beneath me Charlotte’s eyes had also widened and at the same time softened in exactly the same way my wife Jane’s did when I penetrated her. My chest ached with the emotion; my pleasure made doubly delightful by the smoothness and extraordinary tightness of my daughter-in-law’s vagina compared with my wife’s.
I withdrew a little, then pressed forward again, penetrating deeper. I withdrew and pressed once, twice more until my pubic hair ground up hard against hers and I realised my full length was buried deep within her body.
I looked into her eyes.
“Are you ok?” She nodded, blinking. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” I asked.
“Yes, Tony!” she said. “Please... just do it!”
And so I began to thrust into her vagina, gently at first then with increasing rhythm and pace. Beneath me I heard Charlotte’s breathing coming in short, sharp gasps in time with my thrusting and felt her legs opening wider either side of my thighs. As they spread, I slipped slightly deeper into her body and felt her entrance stretch tightly around the base of my erection.
It was an unbelievable feeling which I will remember all my life, feeling her soft tightness all around me; feeling the strength of her emotions and mine all wrapped together in an amazing, passionate act.
However, the novelty of making love to a new, much younger woman along with the unfamiliar tightness of her body around my shaft was a lot for me to withstand. Within a couple of minutes of thrusting I felt the unmistakeable heat of an approaching climax building inside my thighs and in the small of my back.
“I’m going to cum very soon...” I warned Charlotte in a hoarse voice that hardly sounded like my own. “Last chance to change your mind...”
I looked deep into her slightly glazed eyes for reassurance, still thrusting as evenly as I could into her vagina, trying to prevent ejaculation for one last precious moment.
“Do it…” she hissed back. “Please…”
And I let myself go, thrusting faster and faster, filling the room with wet slapping sounds as my body collided with hers. Strange high pitched squeaks escaped Charlotte’s lips in time with my penetrations until finally the heat building within me broke out, my chest felt tighter than it had for years and I lost control of my thrusting and a series of almost painful ejaculations began, filling Charlotte’s body with an outpouring of my semen.
As I thrust, I felt her vagina tightening and releasing my penis as if trying to milk the precious sperm from me. This made me climax even harder, trying to thrust throughout the spasms of my orgasm until it felt like every last drop of semen had passed from my body to hers and I was finally dry.
The whole process had lasted less than ten minutes from start to finish.
Once my spasms had passed, I held myself motionless above her limp body, my softening cock still inside her most private place, looking into her sweet face and feeling beads of sweat on my own.
Our eyes met and there were tears in all four of them.
“Is... Is that what you wanted...?” I asked quietly, my voice shaky.
Below me, Charlotte smiled and nodded, a look of relief on her face.
“It’s too late to change my mind now...”
I softened fully inside her, my breathing returning to normal and my flaccid cock slipped messily from her body.
To my surprise, Charlotte almost pushed me away and immediately clasped her knees together and raised them to her chest. At first I was upset at what seemed like a rejection after what we had just done together but then I realised she was simply maximising the chances of fertilisation.
I rolled onto my back and lay alongside her on the bed.
“I have to stay like this for an hour!” She giggled. “I’m glad only you can see me.”
“It’s a good job neither of us has to go to work yet.” I said.
“It certainly is...” she replied. “This might be my most fertile time so we have to do this twice a day, every day, remember?”
I did indeed remember. The prospect of making love to this incredibly lovely girl; of climaxing inside her beautiful body every day for two whole weeks was astounding.
“Go and have your shower,” she said softly. “I need to rest for a bit.”
I bent over and kissed her on the forehead, then left her in that awkward position and did as I was told, the hot water washing away Charlotte’s sweet juices from my body.
I returned to the bedroom fully dressed fifteen minutes later to find her asleep, her knees still tightly clasped together, raised on a pile of pillows. I went downstairs and got on with my job.
It was about an hour later when I heard the front door opening and looked down from my ladder. Charlotte, now fully dressed in jeans and a loose fitting top was coming around the corner of the house with yet another big mug of tea in her hand. I grinned in delight and descended to meet her.
“That’s great. Thanks!” I said, taking the steaming mug from her hand. “You feel ok? No regrets still?”
Charlotte looked a little embarrassed - but only a little. “I’m happier than I have been in a long time. And relieved too, now it’s all started.” Her smile was a combination of innocence and guilt and melted my heart.
“Going out?” I asked, observing the handbag over her shoulder.
“Yes. I’ve got to go into work to do some photocopying and then to the supermarket.” She smiled knowingly. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back around one for our... appointment. I’ve got the bit between my teeth now...”
“See you later then. Thanks for the tea.” I replied, sipping the hot drink as she walked to her car and drove off down the road.
She returned at lunchtime, smiled at me and went into the house. I half-expected her to have changed her mind and had resigned myself to having just the one wonderful memory of making love with my beautiful daughter-in-law.
But I had underestimated Charlotte’s determination. After half an hour, she emerged from the back door and asked if I was ready. I needed no second bidding. Following her into the house and up the stairs I showered and the whole unbelievable process was repeated – this time with a great deal less self-consciousness and a lot more pleasure for both of us.
It lasted a lot longer too, Charlotte’s breathing showing clearly that she was enjoying our lovemaking more which in turn brought me joys I could not have imagined only a day ago. She even kissed me on the lips – just once – after I had ejaculated noisily inside her incredible body.
For the next two weeks we made love every day, often twice, apart from Sundays when my son was around all day. Every few days Charlotte used a home pregnancy test to see if she had conceived yet – which was far more often than necessary but, as I say, she is a determined girl - but without success.
In the third week I had been forced to resume my usual job so could only visit her sporadically. Despite that, we managed to make love almost every day which after the previous two weeks seemed like an unbearable separation to me.
For more than two months we had sex daily for three out of every four weeks, with Charlotte always hoping that her period would not come to mar the fourth. Not surprisingly she and I became even closer than before and I must admit to having fallen more than a little in love with her.
I think this was inevitable despite all our noble intentions and by the third month we were kissing freely and passionately during our ‘insemination’ sessions and had even tried some alternative positions, primarily to position my sperm better within her but bringing great pleasure to us both at the same time.
On the second Thursday of the third month I arrived at eight in the morning, ready and eager to perform but as I approached the back door it was flung open and a half crazed, half dressed Charlotte flew out and flung her arms around my neck.
“Look! Look Tony!” Look!” She gabbled, her words falling over one another. She thrust a long, white something into my face, far too close for me to see it properly. I grinned and took it from her hand.
It was one of her home testing kits, but this time the message in the little window was clear and unambiguous.
I felt stunned. After all the tears, all the years of trying and the tens of thousands of pounds spent on IVF, all it had taken was two months of blissful, amazing, heart warming sex with one of the loveliest creatures I had ever encountered to produce happiness on this epic scale.
I took her hand and gently led her into the kitchen, her feet apparently barely touching the floor. Her hair was dishevelled, her robe only half fastened and I held her in my arms for a long time as the tears of joy began to roll down her cheeks.
“Thank you…” she sobbed. “I can’t tell you how much it means… how grateful I am…” But I shushed her.
“There’s a long way to go yet, love...” I whispered. “...Before you can tell the world. But it’s really, really good news. I’d open a bottle of champagne if it wouldn’t give our secret away!”
She giggled. “I mustn’t drink anything now anyway. I’m not taking any chances with this baby.” She held her hand against her flat belly, her face now beaming despite the joyful tears. She kissed me on the cheek.
“You’re amazing, Tony. Remember that!” She danced around the kitchen floor like a ten-year-old, calling in a sing-song voice. “I’m having a baby! I’m having a baby! I’m having a baby!”
Then, as if an unwanted thought had crossed her mind, she suddenly became more serious.
“I suppose our daily… sessions… have served their purpose now.” The thought had obviously crossed my mind too. It was a bittersweet moment. “I think I’m going to miss them.”
“It was lovely while it lasted…” I mused. “But we were always aiming for this. It’s a great result, really.” I paused.
She looked at me. I looked at her. Charlotte smiled the sweetest smile and took my hand.
“Shall we try just one more time? Sort of as a celebration?”
I blushed as she led me upstairs. This time, making love slowly and tenderly with the beautiful young woman who was now really, truly carrying my baby, it was so lovely that I actually cried as I came inside her soft, tender body one last time.
And so that amazing episode in my life came to an end.
Charlotte’s pregnancy did not go smoothly, what with terrible morning sickness and high blood pressure getting in the way, but it endured the full nine months. When, after twelve weeks she felt confident enough to ‘go public’ with the news, our son Adam was simply over the moon, sounding almost drunk with sheer joy when he called me and his mother early in the morning, followed by Charlotte’s mum and then most of the contents of his address book. “It’s unbelievable, Dad! After all we’ve been through, for it to happen naturally just like that...” Any last nagging doubts I had evaporated immediately in the face of such obvious happiness. In the end of course, as you know from the beginning of this tale, Charlotte gave birth to a baby boy. Seven pounds four ounces – a good heathy weight – after only eight hours of blissful labour. He looks like both me (his genetic father) and Adam (his Dad), which is perfect. They were a proper family at last. The following year, to my amazement Charlotte asked me if we could repeat the process. She and Adam wanted to have a bigger family before they got too old to enjoy it and hoped that the same ‘fertility drugs’ would work a second time. After thinking about it overnight, I called my daughter-in-law the following morning. After all, their house still needed quite a lot of work doing inside, didn’t it?
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/wife-lovers/charlies-children.aspx">Charlie's Children</a>