Waffles 35

Waffles 35

Waffles 35 Recovery Program (WRP),

Year 4, Day 14, Wake Up

Arthur always woke up 3 minutes before his alarm. Six Fifty-Seven.

He rolled over in his stupid giant bed and looked out the giant window overlooking the stupid beach and stupid sunrise. He laid in his bed until his alarm went off. He rolled out and groaned as he stepped out onto his balcony overlooking his 100 acre ocean side compound. Another stupid day of great food, exercise, the worlds most beautiful women, and saving humanity.

"Attitude Arthur. You've got an important job to do." He thought.

And he did.

You see, on September 3rd of 2035 a lovely tabby cat named Waffles ate a can of food, as he usually did. But this can contained a piece of a chicken that had been canned after it ate a mosquito that had bit a man with a cold on the balls while he took a piss on the edge of the farm in Vietnam. Waffles was taken on a plane for emotional support and coughed 3 times, infecting the entire plane. The virus spread by air and was very resilient to all standard cleaners and to radiation. One cough stayed active in the wind for thousands of miles. But there were no quarantines or hazmat suits. The cold was so mild, it had a zero percent mortality rate. It was a blip on the pathological radar, over in 1 month. No one cared until the infertility started. Waffles Fever was devastating. All males exposed lost 100% fertility, infant to geriatric. And almost everyone was exposed.

47 men remained unexposed, housed on remote oil rigs for extended times, scientists in antarctica, and several men on the space station. And there was Arthur. Arthurs town was an anomaly. No wind. No wind at all his little town of Smoot in Western Queensland for the entire month of September. The perfect geologic anomaly of magnetosphere, tides, and Tradewinds. Arthur had noted it was particularly muggy for September but otherwise didn't pay it much mind. Yet, he happened to be the only man in the town that didn't leave once during the entire month.

Given the global level of the disaster, all men were required to be tested and he'd been found in a community screening. All the men were dubbed global treasures and placed into programs in their countries. Arther felt bad about the other men's fates, quite tragic. The American's were sold to the highest bidder and disappeared, never to serve the public. The Chinese program involved sedation and was heavily robotic in nature and quickly resulted in fatal injuries. The Russians died of exertion and serving their country. The North Koreans attempted a genital transplant onto Dear Leader who died of gangrene within days, the donor was shot for treason. But the Australians got it right.

They set up a beautiful compound on a large portion of isolated oceanside and build him a lovely house. There were several other buildings on the compound and housing for the staff and his guests, a landing pad for the helicopter, but he had his own isolated area that was quite large. There was significant security outside the walls and submarines patrolled the ocean but they stayed out of sight. He knew he was always monitored but they at least attempted to give him the illusion of privacy. He had personal trainers and great gym facility. He had a personal chef as well and received amazing meals any time he requested it and they made sure he maintained his nutritional needs and stamina. All this was his for the small price of breeding 3 beautiful women each day.

As he was the only fertile man left in any of the programs, countries from all around the world contracted with the Australian Repopulate The Human Race (ARTHR) program. The women went through a rigorous screening and application program. They were rated by intellectual score, physical health and fitness, aged 20-28, and were considered to be the best chances for passing on strong genetics and genetic diversity for the future (given the genetic bottleneck, Arthur). They had attempted artificial insemination but it had failed in the majority of candidates, something with the way the virus effected ova. Instead, each week 18 genetically perfect candidates in the prime of their fertility were flown in to stay at the compound with the goal of all of them leaving impregnated. By Arthur.

He was 35 and likely had at least 20 more years of fertility, perhaps more, but he had an entire planet to repopulate, so he kept a tight schedule, 6 days a week, 52 weeks a year.

Arthur didn't mind the schedule, he'd always worked long hours and extra days. Before the Waffle Fever Pandemic, he'd worked as a miner and lived alone for most of his adult life. He enjoyed work. He was always fit and strong because of the work he'd done. He was barely five foot eleven, average looking, and not particularly charismatic.

He had a great life with a purpose. He had teams of people working to keep him comfortable and more human interaction than he'd ever had in his past life. He was treated like a king but he still felt half full. And it had been a long week. At least tomorrow was Sunday and he'd get a rest.

There was a knock on his door. That would be Marco, his personal assistant to start coordinating his day. The program felt it was important for Arthur, while bound by duty, to have as much autonomy as possible. So each morning he picked his appointments for the day, the women and the location. He also picked their outfits and the facility was stocked with any exciting lingerie he could imagine.

He finished his breakfast shake and opened the door. But it wasn't Marco.

"Good morning." The little woman chirped with a big smile.

"Oh. Good morning. Where's Marco?" Arthur asked. He'd greeted him every morning for the last 4 years.

"Believe it or not, even he gets a vacation occasionally." She laughed. She had a strong Australian accent. "I'm Lark, I'll be filling in for him for a fortnight. Shall we get down to business?"

Some names fit like spandex pants on a walrus. Larks name fit her like a silk glove. She was a short blonde with her hair pulled up in a bun. She wore glasses, a blue blouse and a matching plaid pencil skirt, black glasses. The blouse brought out her blue-grey eyes. Even in her black heels, she was still quite petite, just reaching his chin. A little songbird. She appeared to be about his same age and she was bubbling with enthusiasm. And it was contagious.

"Well, come on in." he said, his hand working to straighten his hair subconsciously. "Are you an Aussie?"

"True-blue, mate." She said, cranking up the accent momentarily.

She bounced in and sat down at the kitchen table and opened up her computer. "You've got a banga line-up today. We have Ana, an oligarch from Russia. What's their word for princess... she's that. Then Maria, the reigning miss Argentina, PHD in art history and is a professional ballerina. And last, Kat from Great Britain, primary school teacher, and she holds 3 women's downhill skiing records, and now a rising chess champion, not a grand master yet though." She announced.

Arthur stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Let's start with Kat for the morning appointment, then Maria for the afternoon, Ana for the evening slot." As though it mattered.

Lark nodded. "Okay. I've picked a few outfits based on your past tastes. Kat's a redhead, I know you usually like emerald green or navy. Maria has black hair and blue eyes, lovely with reds, and you always seem to go with black for your evening appointments. It will look great with Ana's blonde hair and green eyes." She said as she displayed a smaller number of options than he'd usually had but they were perfect.

"Wow. How did you know all that? Marco usually just has me pick. These are spot on." He said in amazement.

"I've been working as Marco's assistant for the last 3 years. I'm always watching. Creepy, right?!" she looked at him menacingly. "I'm your stalker." She couldn't hold the look long and broke out in a big smile. That was contagious as well.

"That is creepy." He said and gave her a high five. "Let's do the workout set in green, the bikini in red, and the strappy black corset and stocking set, and add an evening gown, I like to unwrap my presents."

"Oh, Frisky Dingo. Done, done, and done." She said. "I'm assuming you'll take your morning appointment at the gym, afternoon on the pool deck, and your evening in the living room by the fireplace like every Tuesday?"

"What? I've never told anyone my pattern. You really are my stalker." He laughed.

"I know how your toes taste while your sleeping..." she whispered with a wink. Arthur didn't know how to take that and she continued without missing a beat. "So that's Ginger at the Gym in green, Spicy salsa dancer by the poolside in red, and From Russia with Love on the bear skin rug, all black. I'll get things ready." She hopped of the stool and started for the door. "You better get ready for your workout, champ. Who's saving the world today? Arthur, Arthur..." she cheered as she turned to leave.

He grinned and couldn't help noticing how the skirt hugged her cute little curves as she danced out the door.

"I know how your toes taste...?" he pondered.

WRP, Year 4, Day 14, Morning Appointment

Arthur enjoyed starting his day with the workout and liked to get his exercise in before his first appointment. Kat arrived early and hungrily watched Arthur as he finished his sets, squirming with anticipation. Kat's dark red hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Larks outfit selection was on point. The tight sports bra was thin enough that he could see the outline of her nipples clearly and the bottoms were thong cut, probably not the best for working out, but definitely the best for Arthurs visual. Her tight skiers body was amazingly sculpted and her ass was framed nicely by the thong. The emerald really did bring out the green in Kat's eyes and her perfect fair skin was begging to be touched.

Arthur usually shower before they started, but his muscles were pumped and he was dripping with sweat and Kat couldn't wait any longer. She pounced on him, jumping and wrapping her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. He caught her, her perfect cheeks resting in his hands. "I've been waiting for this for so long." She said, grinding her pelvis into his groin as she kissed him deeply.

Anticipation is an amazing aphrodisiac and she'd probably been anticipating this for years since starting the application process. This women was here for more than just a hook-up. Sex with the goal of breeding was different. It was primal, driven by instinct.

Arthur didn't rush, enjoying the kiss and having his hands full of the Olympic grade ass. He walked her over to the weight bench and sat down with her on his lap, legs still wrapped around him, carrying her athletic frame with ease. He was already hard and she continued grinding, making it clear that she was ready to be bred immediately. But Arthur had a formula, and she wasn't ready yet. He kissed down her neck to her perky breasts, kissing her nipples through the thin fabric. Kat, wild with excitement, pulled the bra up over her head and squeezed the tight little b-cups together for him. He kissed and suckled for a few minutes, still enjoying her ass with his hands. He worked his fingers around her curves and began tracing the outline of her labia through her thong. She gasped and arched her back. Arthur stood up and set her on the bench, and smoothly slipped her soggy little thong down her perfect legs. He grabbed her tits again and bowed to worship her blushing pussy between her white, tone thighs. She squealed and arched her back as he lapped at her lips, squeezing her little hot cakes. She wrapped her legs around his head as her body tensed, pulling him in deeper, grinding her pussy on his face. He moved his hands to her ass again, pulling her hips off the bench, feasting on her honey bun, her chiseled abs defined against the sweat forming on her snow white skin. Kat lost control and shook in orgasm, her legs clamping around his head so tight he was worried he was going to black out. Finally she relaxed and rested on the bench, her juices pooling on the vinyl, while Arthur used his towel to clean her honey butter off his face. He gave her a moment, caressing her perfect skin while she slowed her breathing, her energy mellowed. Now she was ready.

Arthur rolled her over onto her hands and knees. He held her by her hips and smoothly slid his cock between her glowing, blushing, wet pussy lips.

Pro tip: Red Heads have an easy mode. Their lovely pale skin blushes right where you need to kiss, touch, rub, or fuck.

She moaned, gripping the sides of the bench. Arthur was average in many ways but he had a better than average dick, longer, thicker than average, and he usually found the bottom of the women's muffin basket before he ran out of dick, as was the case with Kat. He thrust in and out 3-4 times slowly to let her get used to him before she started to push back. Arthur increased his pace and Kat moaned with each stroke.

"Give me a baby, please! Make me a mommy." She whined, pushing back onto him with new enthusiasm and Arthur pulled her back onto his shaft harder. Her entire body was flush now and she moaned with any touch. He was close and as she began to shiver with another orgasm, screaming at the bench like a banshee, her clenching walls pushed him over the edge. He gave her a generous dose of Vitamin Arthur and she collapsed back onto the bench.

She sighed softly as he walked away.

This was going to add new meaning to her life. Arthur understood this and did his best to make the occasion as monumental for these women as possible. But he also understood, they were not here for him, just what he could give them. And his job was done.

"Arthur makes a great middle name." He said as he left her a sweaty, dripping mess, in complete ecstasy, and headed to the shower.

He finished his shower and had a snack and another shake. He took a little on the beach walk before his next appointment and sat on a rock to read a bit.

"Well done. Another satisfied customer. Verified. You know you have a 100% conception rate over your last 500 appointments?" Lark chirped as she sat down next to him. "How's the hydration doing champ? You've gotta keep those electrolytes up."

He lifted his bottle of magic electrolyte drink that his chef always made sure he had plenty of. He was sure they put extra ingredients for stamina and baby batter production but it tasted nice. "Of course. I'm technically a professional athlete of sorts. The best sorts."

Lark laughed. "We should get you sponsored by Gatorade or Pampers nappies or something."

Arthur put his book down and chuckled. He usually came down here for the quiet and most of the staff at the facility only interacted with him professionally. But he enjoyed having someone to talk to and it felt like a treat.

"This is a beautiful spot. You never work down here though. Would you like me to move your afternoon appointment here?" Lark asked. She was still in her blue blouse and skirt but had tennis shoes on and sunglasses. And still smiling.

Arthur responded by picking up a handful of sand and rubbed it between his fingers. "Ever try to get off to 80 grit?"

Larks face pulled into a deep frown.

"Look it up. It was the 4th of July in our very first year, afternoon appointment. The Frolic on the Beach incident." Arthur said.

Lark tapped through a few files on her tablet, then lifted her sunglasses, eyes wide with surprise.

"The beach is so beautiful, do you like how I look? Rolling in the sand? Sexy, no?" A lusty voice with a French accent said. "But there's..." Arthur's voice said hesitantly. "I need it now, I'm ready! Please pound a baby into me! Yes, put it in!" she demanded. Then one solid "smack", a hard, wet, slapping sound. Then a high-pitched feminine squeal of pain. "I've gotta rinse it off..." the panicked squealing voice said. "No, not the sea water!" the French accent said. Then more squealing. Lots more squealing.

"Good god." Lark looked at Arthur with a grimace as she shut the video off, then broke out in a laugh so hard it was silent. "You're squeal... so... high... like a dog whistle..."

"It's a onetime mistake. Somehow, she was just fine. Shut down production for a week, though." He lectured, the wise sexual sage he was now.

Lark knelt on the sand until she caught her breath, then sat on a rock, regaining her composure and straightening out her blouse and skirt.

Then he asked thoughtfully "So what else do you know about me, besides why no beach appointments and how my toes taste?"

Lark smiled and accepted the challenge. "Well, I don't really know how your toes taste, no appointments after six so I get to go home. You rotate your appointment locations by the day of the week. You read after your morning appointment, usually philosophy, but you read through the Lord of the Rings series once a year and like the Far Side comics. You fold your t-shirts but not your undies. You have an American accent, so you weren't born in Australia. You pay attention to the appointment's rhythms and pace really perceptively, sweetly even, but you never talk with them much, and always end with a middle name suggestion. You always make them orgasm twice. And you always wake up a little sad, it seems."

"That's... a lot. I think I'd rather just have you taste my toes."

"Dream on. Go get your trunks on, you've got an appointment by the pool and I think she's already waiting." She said and pushed him playfully, then walked back up the trail, with a little extra sway in her step that Arthur decided, perhaps, might be just for him.

WRP, Year 4, Day 14, Afternoon Appointment

Maria was casually swimming laps in the pool as Arthur approached the pool deck. When she saw him coming she swam slowly to the pool ladder and locked eyes with him. Her deep blue eyes were mesmerizing, and she gave him a sly half smile with big full lips as she began to pull herself up out of the pool. He broke the eye contact long enough to take in her shape. She had a tall, slender, dancers figure, toned legs and stomach highlighted by the water on her perfect olive skin, and her tits looked bigger than they had any right to be on her slim frame in the tiny red bikini.

Moi Caliente. She was stunning. She walked with a dancers grace, swaying her hips with each step as she slinked towards him. She didn't say a word, but pouted her plump lips in a plea as she held out a bottle of tanning oil. She kissed him on the cheek as he accepted the bottle, then, as she stepped back, she pulled the string on her top, letting her breasts fall free, still holding eye contact, with a sultry, mischievous grin. Water beaded down her generous C cups and off her tight brown erect nipples, and shimmered on her perfect sun kissed olive skin. She let him take her in for a moment before laying down on the deck chair face down.

Spicy. Arthur knelt, straddling her waist, and started massaging the oil into her back, starting with her shoulders. He could have sworn the air around her was 10 degrees hotter. She gave a soft moan as he moved down from her shoulders and his fingertips grazed the sides of her breasts. He continued down her back slowly, taking his time, and stopped just above her toned ass. He repositioned himself kneeling beside her and started massaging her calves, then her thighs, indulging his need to experience the dancers legs. They were perfect, made to be touched. Finally, he massaged her glutes, and eventually his fingers teasing under her bikini bottom.

He'd noticed her little moans had become more frequent and her breathing had quickened. He teased his fingers deeper and she spread her legs a little, allowing him better access. He pushed his whole hand under the bottoms and massaged 2 fingers into her pussy, his thumb rubbing her asshole. She squealed, pushing back onto his hand eagerly. She reached back and pulled the strings holding the bottoms together, letting them fall off as she bucked back onto his hand.

Pro Tip: Treat all Latinas like the kid that bites. They are naturally seductive and passionate lovers, fun to explore, but they are all loco.

He continued massaging her pussy, adding another finger, increasing his intensity. She was quickly gaining steam, whining in Spanish into the chair, until she clenched and quivered, the convulsion ejecting his fingers. She rolled onto her back and Arthur gently massaged her tits until her body relaxed again. She grabbed his hand that had been in her chimichanga moments before and brought it to her mouth, slowly, deliberately sucking each of the fingers clean of her juices. Then she sat up hungrily and pulled his swim trunks down, admiring his cock for a short second before slurping it into her mouth greedily.

It felt amazing but he was already hard and could only enjoy it for a few wet slurps, worried he'd lose it and misplace the special delivery. Premature ejaculation could be a breach of contract and an international incident. This was work, after all, and he was a professional.

He pulled his churro out of her mouth with a juicy slurp. She gave his cockhead one last pouty kiss before he laid her onto her back. He gave her lecheries' a firm squeeze as he thrust smoothly into her juicy street taco. He quickly gained momentum. He moved his hands down to her hips, lifting them as he sat up to thrust deeper and she screamed and screamed and shuddered in another orgasm as he stuffed her chalupa with Caso de Nino with a groan.

He stood up and retrieved his trunks while she relaxed with her eyes closed, satisfied.

"Lark makes a good middle name." he said, then jumped into the pool for a swim.

After his swim, he changed his clothes and headed to the garden. He liked his garden and asked the staff to leave it alone for him to work in. He liked the feeling of working in the dirt and having a different kind of responsibility. He even grew some of the food they used to feed the compound staff.

"I like your garden. Your corn is always a favorite at the commissary." Lark said as she sat down under the big jacaranda tree in the corner of the garden.

"I tried to get them to let me have a woodworking or blacksmithing shop on site but they said it was too dangerous. So I settled on a garden." He said, putting his shovel down.

She closed her eyes and breathed in the floral scent, smiling as she opened them.

"Lark is a good middle name by the way." She said with a wink.

"Oh, you noticed. You are always watching. I'm your personal X-rated Truman Show. Wait. Am I the star of an X-rated Truman Show?" He laughed and then sat down next to her.

Lark laughed hard and it was like music to Arthur. "Would you leave if it was?" She asked.

"No, but I think I'd try to pose better. Really make those glutes pop for the audience." He laughed.

They sat in a comfortable silence in the lovely spot for a few minutes.

"So..." she broached "why the sadness? I mean I can see that you're kind of a prisoner here, can't really leave the compound. There's an entire branch of global government dedicated to you and if you disappeared it would be a massive international incident."

"If I'm a prisoner, I'm the best treated prisoner in the history of the world." He grinned, but stopped, deflecting the question. "It's nothing, really. I am definitely no victim here. I mean what more could anyone want?".

Lark looked at him with an eyebrow cocked. "Okay, but really," she scooted closer to him, her leg resting against his. "what's going on in that head of yours?"

Arthur took a moment to contemplate. How did this little songbird have so much power over him already that he was dangerously close to being vulnerable? He was Arthur, hope of the world, sower of seeds, no one really just talked with him. Marco, occasionally, but it was usually very professional.

She waited patiently for him to answer, gently pestering him, making it clear that she wouldn't be ignored, bumping him with her shoulder. Smiling, always smiling.

She looked young for her age, he could tell. She was definitely older than his appointments, but she had lovely electric blue-grey eyes, like a lightning storm. Her smile lit parts of him that hadn't seen a spark in ages, dark corners he'd forgotten about. Arthur took a deep breath. He'd thought the thoughts so many times, but never had to articulate them.

"How far back in my records have you looked?" he said hesitantly looking away from her.

"Honestly? All the way back. I mean, since the day you arrived here." She confessed.

He nodded thoughtfully and for a moment. "Can you make sure we're not being recorded?"

Lark opened her tablet and after a few taps, nodded yes. He still hesitated. Lark leaned in gently a little more and a few moments of her warmth was enough. Another big breath and Arthur cracked.

"Believe it or not, I had a girlfriend for a bit. Back in the States. And we had a baby, a little boy. We didn't plan it. We were so young and had no money and I had to work too much to afford our tiny rental and the baby clothes and diapers and food... but I had them and... and I was the wealthiest man in the world. And I got to wear that mantle of fatherhood and it made me the best man I'd ever been and ever would be, you know, because I had a purpose bigger than myself. All for one perfect week." He wanted to stop there, but some memories have their own gravity, an emotional momentum that has to be seen through. He may as well have tried to stop a landslide.

Lark looked at him softly questioning. She wanted to hear the next part but braced for it.

"There was an accident." He paused to work the knot out of his throat. He didn't worry about the tears, they felt good.

"And it was just an accident. A terrible one, but no one's fault. She went to visit her mother with our boy. Boom. It was instant. No suffering. We could all pray for as much. But I was so angry and empty. After I buried them, I buried myself in work." He finished and nodded. He breathed in the jacaranda scent, feeling better.

"Arthur, I had... I had no idea." Lark said putting her arms around him and her head on his shoulder. "How can you do this job? Doesn't it kill you every time? I can't imagine how much it must hurt."

Arthur took a deep breath, wiped his eyes. "That was 15 years ago. It took me about 5 years to get my head right afterwards. I came to Australia for a fresh start. I still worked hard because I didn't know what else to do, how to make sure I'm living with a purpose like they'd want me to. Now that I'm here, there's nowhere else I'd rather be. It's important work. I know these women are not here for me, just what I can give them, but it's a privilege to help them most of the time, give them that gift, the best part of their lives, a purpose they can't even understand until they hold that baby in their arms and become a parent. And it's not that I feel like I'm missing out, it does hurt, that never goes away, and it shouldn't. But neither should the excitement, the wonder at creating a life. I guess that's what bothers me most, that I don't feel that excitement for what's coming for these families anymore. I might as well be serving them a cup of coffee. And after our appointment, I'm on to the next. I worry the monotony has killed the magic of it all, and that feels like a moral crime of unappreciation. Like I've forgotten the greatest gift I was ever given."

Lark sat back against the tree, her head still on his shoulder and somehow his hand was in hers. They sat quietly and Arthur found his mood improving, until a little alarm sounded on Lark's tablet.

"I have to turn the security back on for the garden or the special forces are going to show up." She said with a shrug and lifted her head off his shoulder. She smiled. "Okay, well, how can you argue with that. I'm sold. If I wasn't too old to apply, I'd put in my application to be a mommy."

Arthur grinned too. "Now you know all my secrets. So tell me, how old are you?"

Lark opened her mouth and eyes in a "the audacity..." expression, before giving in.

"33".

"You could pull off 25 easy." He complimented.

"Oh, stop." She said, blushing, punching his shoulder.

"Ouch... where's the special forces. You can't abuse the global treasure like that."

"Whatever. I approve their timecards, they fear me. Okay, back to business." She said tapping her finger on her chin. "How can we make things less monotonous for you, bring back some spark... hmm... what about some props?" she offered.

"Like toys? I don't usually go for those and we have them available already." Arthur said.

"No, I'm thinking more like theme days. Like Lord of the Rings day. You can dress up as Aragorn and I'll have all the girls dress like... hmm. Oh, like sexy elves. Unless you're into dwarves?"

"I don't know." Arthur said. Larks enthusiasm damped for a moment until Arthur continued "I don't think I'd be aroused unless they were all dressed like sexy Smeagol's."

"That can be arranged. 'It gives us the precious.'" She laughed and Arthur couldn't hold back a belly laugh.

"We'll do a Wizard of Oz day" she continued "You'll be Dorthy. We can make that work."

"Can I pick my dress?" he laughed.

"Yes. But I get to pick the lingerie set. Hint, hint, the nipple tassels are going to match your ruby slippers." She snorted and Arthur laughed even harder.

"Can I have just a cowboy hat day?" Arthur said between laughs, "And I just get to own that whole persona. I'm gonna need a mustache. 'It's time to saddle-up little buckaroo.' 'I'm gonna round up some bandito's and put them in your corral.' 'Somebody's poisoned the waterhole. You should get that treated.' Never mind, I'm a terrible cowboy." They both rolled for what felt like ages.

"Oh, what if we make it a game!?" Lark said excitedly. "What if we just left you a few props and you had to combine them into a persona and just really be that person for the appointment. It could be subtle or not subtle. I think you'd be really good at it."

Arthur laughed for a moment "I don't know if I could really do any of that. Like I said, my appointments are all there for something important and amazing and I don't think I can really feel good about making the moment about me. They've been waiting years for that appointment. It would feel like I'm making fun of them." He sighed. "But I like this. This was really nice. Talking with someone. Particularly... you. Thank you."

Lark sat up and smiled back at him. "You're welcome. We need our prized stallion in fighting shape, physically and mentally. And, well, I really like talking with you." She said looking around, like she hoped the cameras hadn't caught her saying something she was forbidden from. She looked back at him.

"There is another thing you should know. It's about your evening appointment." She said with a grimace.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow.

"She's a bit of a princess. Like, an actual princess by Russian standards. Apparently, to stabilize some economy or land dispute or something, she was bumped to the front of the line as a bargaining chip in some world peace talks. She hasn't gone through the proper application process, we don't know anything about her genetics other than they are "superior Russian genes made for ruling nations" as was submitted to my reports this morning. She's been a nightmare to work with and hated the fact that you had 2 other appointments before her today. She's not willing to wear the outfits and she wants to meet in her suite, not yours. I hate giving in to divas, but security cleared it, she can't kidnap you."

"Sounds charming."

"You have no idea. Yet. We'll move forward but I just wanted to give you a heads up. Good luck." She said with a 'don't hate me' look over her shoulder as she walked out of the garden.

Arthur left his garden to get ready for his evening appointment, feeling better than he'd felt in a long time.

WRP, Year 4, Day 14, Evening Appointment

Arthur could hear someone talking on the phone on the other side of the door loudly. He knocked again.

"What!? Just come in." the voice shouted.

Arthur pushed the door to the nice apartment open, only making it halfway before it stopped on a mountain of luggage. The room was a disaster. How one person staying one week had enough clothing to clutter such a large apartment was beyond him but she'd done it.

"Yah, he's here. I don't think he's even 6 foot tall." She continued on the phone, only acknowledging his presence with further insults. "He's all dressed up, like this is a big occasion. Maybe for him." He was wearing his evening casual-formal, black suit, black shirt, no tie, a hard contrast to her Vera Wang pajama pants and stained Victorias Secret tank top. He cocked any eyebrow. Long legs, blonde hair, flawless features and skin. Ana clearly had potential to be a Venus but was as attractive as a wet rat in the moment.

World Peace. Remember, World Peace.

"Ew, gross. Of course I don't want to fuck him. I don't want a baby, I hate kids... Yah, I have to have an heir or Dad won't leave me the inheritance... No way. The servants are going to raise it. The day after they get it out of me, I'm out of there, living in Bali, I don't want to see the thing ever again."

Arthurs blood started to boil. He was disgusted. World Peace. World...

There was another knock on the door and as he still hadn't waded through the clutter past the entry way, he answered it. It was one of the waiters holding a covered tray. Arthur stepped aside to allow the waiter past but he stayed at the door.

"It's for you sir. Miss Lark said this may be a good time to try 'the game'."

The waiter pulled the tall lid off the tray to reveal a monocle and a bottle of Mountain Dew Baja Blast.

What the hell was he going to do with these?

He looked over at the Gucci Trash-Brat on the bed.

"Uuug. He's just standing here looking at me. I'll call you in a minute when it's done. Gross." She snarked, rolling her eyes. "Ok, lets get this over with." She said laying on her back, still scrolling on her phone. "Take off your pants, and jack yourself until you're ready to cum, then I'll let you put it inside me."

Okay. Game on.

He took a deep breath and placed the monocle on his eye. Arthur drank the entire Mountain Dew strait, trailer park champaign, then belched loudly as he walked towards the bed. He tossed the bottle next to Ana.

Arthur gave his best "Harumph", standing proud, waiting.

"What" she said, clearly irritated to have her screen time interrupted. "Just do your thing. Be quick. I'm sure you won't last long. I must be the highest-class girl you've ever met. This is your lucky day. I'm way out of your league. Just get it over with." She still didn't look up.

Arthur straitened his monocle and gave another dignified "Harumph" and pushed her phone smoothly away from her view.

"What is your problem! Don't you know who my dad is? Who do you think you are?"

"Miss, perhaps I can introduce myself. My name is Arthur. I am a student of life through the arts of philosophy and poetry as well as the world's greatest lover." He said with a bow.

Ana growled in irritation.

"You see, I study all the greats of classic poetry, lyric, and philosophy. Byron, Poe, Shakespeare, Arelius, Socrates, Kid Rock, Aristotle. My mind has become so refined, that my physical, mental, and spiritual intelligences have all become one, making me more potent and powerful than any other man. This makes me simply, complexly, intoxicating. Prepare to be wooed." He said with a flourish of his hands, then straitened his monocle.

"Okay, great, your Super Ghandi or something. Get over yourself. Just get... wait... Kid Rock?"

"Yes, the great trailer park philosopher/poet hero. Truly a gift to our confused times. I've pondered his materials deeply, internalized each verse, woven his words into my very soul. And, as I care about the future of humanity so much, I sleep with headphones on my testicles, playing Devil without a Cause all night, a lullaby to the unborn babes of the world. Because I care." He said looking into space. He looked back at her and straitened his monocle.

"Just put the baby in me and leave." She snarled.

"Oh, I'm afraid that's not possible yet." He said, clasping his hands together, looking down sheepishly. "I'm unable to become aroused without the delight of artfully crafted prose, the foreplay of the romantic word to the spirit, you see. So, I've written a poem to commemorate this momentous occasion for you and to act as an aphrodisiac of sorts." He said with an eyebrow waggle. "It would help if you beat-boxed for us, but not required."

She looked at him with daggers, but he began anyways, clearing his throat, straightening the monocle again.

"She walks in beauty, like the night,"

So I brought you beef jerky and a Bud Light.

Your hair's like a sonnet, your vibe's legit,

And baby, my truck has leather... and grit."

Arthur paused and looked strained for a moment then said "Goodbye Rebecca. Now where were we?"

"What was that? My name's not Rebecca. Was that part of your stupid poem?" Ana asked.

"What, the Goodbye? That's something of a philosophical exercise I do. I name my flatulence to remind myself that life is fleeting like a fart in the wind. It helps me reflect on Memento Mori." He replied thoughtfully. "Live today because death comes to us all. Goodbye Rodney."

"Rod... oh, another one?" She sneered.

He nodded peacefully, looking far off. "Liver and onions for dinner, lots of Mementos tonight." Lark was right, this was fun. He hoped she was watching. He continued.

"Of cloudless climes and starry skies,"

You got those eyes, like gas station Moon-Pies.

But I know this: you, me, and moonlight glow,

Bawitdaba, da bang da dang diggy, yo."

Ana stood up off the bed. "Do you know who I am!? My father could blow this whole country to dust!"

"Have you seen Australia? It's mostly dust already, other than the edge bits. Goodbye Wanda... and Gregory. Let's continue." He said, fueled by her outrage. Undaunted, he continued.

"I quote the greats, I spit some Rock,

Got Shakespeare vibes in tube socks.

So whaddaya say -- ride or die?

I got gas, snacks, and American Badass on standby."

Ana was red in the face. "Get out! No one treats me this way! Why do you think you can treat me this way!?

"Cuz I'm a cowboy baby." He sang and defiantly rode an imaginary horse slowly to the door.

"Goodbye Wynonna. Goodbye TV's Patrick Duffy. Goodbye Ana." And he shut the door behind him.

Arthur went to his kitchen, giggling to himself the whole way, knowing still that there would be consequences. But probably tomorrow. He was hungry. He'd lied about eating liver and onions for dinner, among other things. He always ate after his last appointment. He pulled his dinner out of the oven and sat down to eat it.

Then came the knock he was anticipating, partially dreading. He understood the weight of the outcome of the night.

"Come on in." he said.

To his relief, it was not security or the special forces or a Russian hit squad. It was Lark.

"I thought you left after 6." He said.

She walked to him slowly, eyes wide. She sat across from him.

"So..." she started slowly, trying to be measured, but failed. The rest came out like a geyser. "I can't believe that just happened! That was the most awesome horrifying thing I've ever seen! It was hilarious and she deserved it so much! But world peace is out the window now and thousands of people might die. But she is so awful! I've never been this conflicted! But when you mixed Byron and Kid Rock, you did it. You won the game for sure. How did you do that off the cuff!? And naming you farts! Brilliant." She said and laid forward onto the table, laughing.

"It felt so good!" Arthur couldn't help laughing too.

"And you named your last fart after her!" Lark said between deep gasps. "This is so bad, what are we going to do?" still laughing.

"You send the props, this is technically your fault." He laughed. "They need me. You're probably a goner though." He sputtered, reaching across the short table to hold her hands.

"Oh great, my 15 minutes of fame. The world's first globally broadcast public execution." They both laughed hard for moment longer until they were exhausted from the effort, both resting on the table. As they sat up to perhaps consider the reality of their situation, Arthur caught her eyes, her mascara running a little. They were the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. She paused too, locked in the gaze. And they stayed that way, far longer than was professional. And then longer than friends should. And when it was time to pull away, back into their appropriate spheres, they didn't. And Arthur, national treasure, hope of the world, said a thing he knew was forbidden. He had to.

"You are a clever little vixen, you know that? You're amazing." He said, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. It was like the starting gun of a race.

They leapt at each other, the table and chairs crashing away as she was instantly in his arms, planting kisses on him awkwardly, unable to hold back. He kissed her in return, his experience and prowess missing in his excitement. He felt like a teenager again.

What do I do next? Where do my hands go? Did I just lick her teeth?

Lark hopped up and wrapped her legs around him, and he almost tripped over a chair. They both giggled a little, but kept kissing. Lark put one hand under his shirt and started pushing it up, pawing at his chest, while he carried her to his bed. She was much more slight than his usual appointments and felt like a feather. He laid her down softly and took his shirt off. She did the same before pulling him onto her again, her plaid skirt riding up around her waist. Arthur, master lover, able to release maidens from even the most strappy lingerie with Houdini's skills, fumbled with her simple bra strap, his nimble fingers fat and clumsy in his excitement. He couldn't stop kissing her, he needed her kisses. Her lips were soft and small, no fillers or plumpers.

Lark stopped, pushing him up weakly.

"We shouldn't do this. My job. And I'm way too old to apply for an appointment." She said breathily.

Arthur soothed her anxieties with another series of kisses. This was right.

Lark, gave in and reached down and undid his belt, pulling his pants down just below his glutes and tugged his boxers down over his bulge. Arthur finally won the battle with her bra and released her little peaches from their bondage. They were small but they were still perky and full. Lark gasped as he gripped them firmly, leaving her kiss just long enough to suck greedily on each nipple twice before returning to her lips.

Lark couldn't wait a second longer. She pulled her little thong to the side and squeezed her legs around Arthur, his shaft finding it's mark in her wet little kitty first attempt. She moaned into his mouth and started to probe his with her tongue. He quickly worked himself all the way into her over several quick thrusts, her legs constricting him in. Arthur's ecstasy turned into a brief moment of panic as he felt himself ready to blow already. He never came that quickly. But he gave in to the inevitable as he felt Lark clench and quiver around his cock, bucking, constricting, and squealing. He lost control and filled her with the biggest load he'd produced in his life, he was pretty sure.

Arthur pulled out and flopped onto the bed next to her, both panting, both grinning.

"That was awesome." Lark cooed.

"That was awesome." Arthur said between breaths. "But I don't think I've cum that fast... like ever. I feel like I owe you more than that."

"You can make it up to me." She said, squeezing his hand.

And he did. Three more times that night, he proved to be the sex god he was marketed by the world to be.

WRP, Year 4, Day 15, Wake Up

Six Fifty-Seven.

Arthur rolled over in his awesome giant bed and looked out the giant window overlooking the awesome beach and awesome sunrise. He laid in his bed until his alarm went off. He rolled over and grinned as he stepped out onto his balcony overlooking his 100 acre ocean side compound. Another awesome day of great food, exercise, saving humanity. He looked back at Lark in his bed, the most beautiful woman in the world.

"What if we're cousins." She said, eyes still closed. "I haven't even been genetically screened."

"You don't fuck like my other cousins..." Arthur said with a wink. He just looked at her until she started blushing.

"What?" she asked with a little smile. He just kept looking and smiled back. She was skinny, not much meat to her, but she was fit and had a cute little ass. And her smile was pure Aussie sunshine. Just right.

"We need to make a game plan." She said getting a bit somber.

"I think I have one." Arthur said confidently.

Lark checked her tablet. "Well put your under-roos on, cowboy. We've got a global commission demanding answers and a special forces team outside ready to escort you."

"Answer me one question." He demanded kindly. "Is there really anyone on this island that hasn't already seen me naked?"

"Well..."

"Anyone on the Global Comission?" he asked, a bit surprised.

"Well... no. But they haven't seen me naked... I mean... I guess until last night?... Fuck. I'm getting clothes on and you're getting clothes on. World Peace, remember. World Peace." She begged.

"I'm feeling very peaceful without my pants right now." He said, looking into the distance.

"Clothes!" She demanded as she threw a pillow and loaded her grip with a shoe to persuade with next, but he complied with a grin.

He'd not felt this good in a long time, even looking down the barrel of this cannon. He finished putting on his clothes just as the special forces announced themselves.

WRP, Year 4, Day 15 Meeting the Global Commission

"This is an outrage!" said the third committee member on the large screen. "Do you have any idea what you've done!?"

It was looking more and more like he was not going to get his day off. But he may still enjoy himself. He continued to look at the screen, waiting for the ranting and chest beating to wind down. It took some time, two more committee members reading from the same script, virtue signaling in an attempt to gain or maintain allies. Arthur couldn't keep up with the politics and didn't try any more. But he did usually do his part. Finally, the head commissioner from Poland spoke.

"This is a serious crime. We may consider letting the charges go but we demand an apology and a successful coital interaction." She said firmly.

Arthur considered this. "No." he said. He was the last fertile man on earth. They weren't going to execute him, they couldn't imprison him. They could give him to the North Koreans. He shuddered.

He sat patiently through another round of "How dare you!"'s. Before slowly raising his hand. They quieted.

"I will consider a second appointment. But I will need a three-page essay written by the candidate, Ana, on why a child is the greatest gift in the world, particularly our current world. She will submit to the usual screenings and will present this evening in the requested setting from last night. If these requests are met, myself and my assistant will consider giving her another chance. My assistant, Lark, will be participating in the appointment if she approves of the candidate's sincerity. Have I made myself clear?" he ordered. This was the first time he'd made any demands and they were shocked at first but quickly agreed. This was an out that kept them politically safe and all parties satisfied.

Arthur turned and walked out gesturing to Lark to follow him. She stepped around the Special Forces men assigned to her without any resistance. "Bye guys."

"Wow, that was some real Ganster of Love talk. Maybe I should have them review that footage from the Frolic on the Beach incident." She said with a wink. "So what's your plan, Space Cowboy?" she said to Arthur once they were clear of the administration building.

"Just what I told them." He said with a grin.

Lark tapped on her tablet for a moment.

"Okay, the staff are up to date on the plan and are setting Ana up with a bloody typewriter to write her essay. What do you have planned for me?" she asked with a smirk.

"It's your turn to play the game. I'll have your props delivered to your room." He said with mischief in his eyes. "And, why a typewriter? We have computers all over this place."

"It's supposed to be a punishment, right? This way she'll have to really be thoughtful about every word." She said and laughed deviously.

WRP, Year 4, Day 15, World crisis Appointment

Ana stepped into Aurthur's living room, looking at the floor, demeanor humbled like a toddler walking out of time-out. Clearly, she'd been scolded by her side of the political line as well. She wore the black strappy lingerie and stockings, plenty of extra straps but barely covering her nipples and pussy. She was holding a small stack of papers. She cleaned up very nicely, her beautiful blonde hair worn up, her face youthful with flawless skin. She looked around for Arthur but he wasn't there, looking particularly pathetic in her confusion.

"Bring it to me." Lark said from the dining room, standing behind the table next to the dreaded typewriter. She was wearing a luxurious light blue silk robe that draped over her, the delicate fabric outlining her features clearly. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She sat as tall and regal as her petite little frame could muster, smiling softly, bottling her sunshine for the moment.

"Who are you?" Ana asked sheepishly.

Lark let the robe slip off her shoulders and slowly slide to the ground as she stood up. She was wearing a light blue corset with titillating intricate black lace accents that pushed her little boobs up nicely. She wore black high heels and lacey black stockings held in place by a black garter belt, no panties, leaving her shaved pussy fully exposed. The only thing she wore between the garter belt and her stockings was a fluffy black plush fox tail plug.

"I'm here to assess you and your sincerity. And to get you ready for the biggest moment of your existence." She said eagerly, a lyrical quality to her words as she pulled on a black lace mask and two headbands. One with black lace fox ears, she placed on herself. The other had black lace rabbit ears, she placed on Ana's head. "If you're going to be the Breeding Bunny tonight, you'll need me. Wise vixen, clever fox. I'm your Jiminy Cricket, your spirit guide, whatever. I can be your Breeding Bunny Buddy for the evening. Ignore me at your peril." Lark said, a slight malice in her eye. "Or, listen to me and you just might win the best prize of your life!" She said, giving her tail a little wiggle. She looked sexy, adorable, and somehow menacing at the same time.

"Did you know that rabbits have been a symbol of fertility and reproduction for thousands of years? Sometimes they were worshiped." She said with a wink. "If you're going to be bred tonight, we have a lot of work to do. Most women go through years of screening. We are going to have to accelerate your processing." Lark gestured to the table.

Ana stepped to the table and submitted her essay. Lark looked down her nose at it judiciously for a moment before producing a red pen. "Oh, dear." Lark then spent the next 10 minutes marking up the paper, shaking her head in dissatisfaction. Ana, usually incredibly confident with her body, felt uncomfortably exposed in only the skimpy outfit to hide her from the scrutiny. Finally, when Lark was finished, she put the pen down on the table with a snap.

"Absolute garbage." Lark sang, her grin mismatching her disappointment. She gestured to the typewriter on the table. "Again." She placed the marked copy next to the typewriter menacingly. "If you can't even write a few pages on your own worth as a mum, why would the world trust you with one of it's greatest responsibilities?"

Ana looked defeated. She must have been battling the typewriter all day just to learn how to produce a usable document, let alone compose a coherent thought. She took a deep breath. She looked for a chair, but there were none. Lark wagged her finger "no". Ana moved to pull the typewriter closer to her, but again, Lark stopped her. With no options, Ana leaned forward awkwardly to reach the typewriter on the low table and began slowly pecking at the keys.

"This is your last chance. No mistakes. Why do you deserve to be here? You have 10 minutes." Lark said as she walked around the table and stood behind Ana, reading over her shoulder, resting a hand on Ana's ass cheek. She "huh"'d and "hmm"'d disapprovingly until Ana hit a wrong key.

"Damn it." Ana slipped. Lark didn't miss the chance and gave her ass a sharp swat, leaving a light pink handprint, and Ana squealed.

"Focus." Lark directed, massaging the insulted glute gently. "You're running out of time." Ana continued, relaxing back onto Larks hand slightly.

Slap! "Punctuation." Lark chided as she gave the cheek another spank, harder this time, the handprint lingering. Lark returned to massaging, slipping her fingers around the cheek, caressing the edges of Ana's labia. Ana gave a little gasp but kept tapping at the keys.

Swat! "Capitalize proper nouns." Lark said spanking the other cheek this time. Her fingers retuned to tracing the edges of Ana's labia before slipping two fingers under the thin elastic covering her pussy. Ana was already leaking and Lark spread her slippery juices up and down her labia.

"What changed your mind, Ana? What made you come back?" Lark asked.

Ana was breathing hard now. "My father... wants to be a grandfather... more than anything..." she tried to keep typing while answering but missed more keystrokes.

Swat! Swat!

"Keep going." Lark encouraged.

Ana gasped as Lark pushed a finger into her pussy and she struggled to catch her breath.

"He said I'd be cut off. He said he'd leave me to the streets of Moscow." She whimpered.

Two fingers were now in her pussy, Lark's thumb probing at her clenched asshole.

"Selfish. That's still not enough." Lark said, pulling her hands out, and swatting Ana's glowing little cheeks five times firmly in quick succession. Ana gave little moans with each blow and even pushed back onto Larks fingers as she returned to her pussy, sinking three fingers in easily. "Aren't you tired of being empty? Emotionally and physically hollow, only living for yourself?" Lark's thumb sank deep into her hungry asshole. Larks other hand started to caress Ana's tight belly.

"You feel yourself aching with need, not just to cum but to be filled, to be a vessel for something precious." Lark said as she probed her fingers in and out. "Instinct is screaming from every cell in your body demanding to be pregnant, create life, turn into the miracle machine your body has the potential to be. Your body is made to breed." Lark gently rubbed down below Anas naval, putting slight pressure over her pelvis. "There is no greater purpose for you than to be bred and to let your body change to grow that miracle." Lark lectured. "Do you want it?" Ana's fingers typed gibberish on the paper now, her head down on the table, gasping and squirming. Lark could feel Ana's body tightening, approaching climax. "Do you want it?" Lark asked, speeding her probing.

"Yes. Yes..." Ana answered, drooling on the table, ready to cum.

But Lark stopped. "I'm not convinced." She said and abruptly stopped, stepping away from Ana's needy frame. Ana whined soflty in protest.

Lark paced thoughtfully while Ana collapsed to her knees to catch her breath, clearly worried she was going to leave an empty vessel again.

Lark fiddled with a wrapper, and held her hand out to Ana. "Get yourself together. Have a Mentos, it's the fresh maker. Take two actually." She said and Ana did.

"I'm going to need to be convinced that you are sorry for your behavior and appreciate the opportunity you may have." She said as she sat up on the sturdy table, leaning back. "I'm going to give you one more chance. I'm going to need a persuasive oral presentation. Convince me." She said, spreading her legs, her bare pussy already glistening with excitement.

Ana eagerly approached Larks pantry and lapped at her honey enthusiastically. The cool mint of the mentos added a surprising menthol sensation. Lark put her hand on Ana's head, pulling her in tightly, gasping.

"Now... apologize for being a spoiled brat." Lark sang, her eyes rolling back, grinding her mound onto Ana's greedy mouth.

Ana tried to pull away to speak, but Lark didn't let her. She spoke with her mouth full of pussy, the vibrations making Lark squirm. "Mmm srree mmm spllls brrttt"

"Louder." Lark panted. Ana obliged after a deep breath, still shouting into Lark's muffin, again to Larks delight. "Mmm srree mmm spllls brrttt!"

"Good... Now... Tell me..." Lark panted as she let Ana come up for some deep breaths "You want to be bred." She said as she pushed her head down again.

"Aee wnt tah be bred!" she yelled into Lark's Easter Basket. Lark clenched and yelped as she was surprised by an orgasm. She laid back on the table, holding Ana's head tightly until she finished quivering.

"I think you might be ready." Lark announced as she sat up and hopped off the table. "Here is your certificate." She said handing Ana a 50% off coupon to Chuckee-Cheese, then picked up the mentos again. "Mentos? The fresh maker?" she offered to Ana, who declined. Lark put one in her mouth "One last thing." Lark knelt behind Ana, surprising her asshole with a wet tongue kiss, popping in the mentos, the pushing a bunny tail plug into her rabbit hole. "Congratulations!" she said proudly as Ana gasped.

Arthur materialized on the couch in the living room and Lark skipped over to him, kissing him as he stood up.

"You look incredible." He whispered in her ear, copping a feel of her bare ass. "And you definitely won the challenge. How did you make this whole persona out of just a mentos and chuckee-cheese coupon?"

Lark just giggled and nibbled his neck. "Easy. I'm your clever little vixen. Do you like it?"

Arthur's dick twitched at the sentiment and he was sure Lark felt it too.

Ana turned, still kneeling on the floor, her face a mess with Lark's juices, her hand wandering over her aching pussy, trying to find some relief from the need. But she was smiling.

"What should we do about you?" Arthur said to Ana beckoning her to join them infront of the fire in the living room.

Ana obliged and joined them in the living room, eyes pleasantly glazed. Lark and Arthur pulled her into their embrace and Arthur kissed her, enjoying Larks flavor on her face. Lark stepped behind Ana and started to unfasten the ridiculous number of clasps holding her lingerie together. Ana gasped as her sensitive little nipples felt the air as her bra dropped to the floor. She gasped again as Lark stripped her little strappy bottoms as well. She was now only wearing the bunny tail plug and her stockings. Arthur kissed down her chest, kissing each perky nipple before turning her around. Lark stepped in and continued to kiss Ana's neck while Arthur pulled the clasps and strings on Larks corset, working them until it fell to the floor as well, her little cat nips exposed, leaving her in just her stockings and tail as well.

Arthur laid Ana down on the rug, letting Lark kiss her body up and down while he undressed quickly.

"Oh, you're hard already!" Lark chirped.

"I don't think I've ever been harder after the show you two put on." He said with a grin and knelt beside Ana. Lark stretched Ana's arms above her head and Ana moaned as Arthur kissed down her toned belly and down to her inner thighs. Ana leaned up and sucked Arthur's dick into her mouth, whining and moaning onto his cock. Ana tried to grind her swollen mound on his face but found no relief, her need just getting worse.

Arthur ran his fingers up her thigh and began tracing around her pussy. Ana screamed and squirmed, but again Arthur pulled away just as the explosion was building.

Arthur sat up and positioned Lark and Ana face down, ass up. Arthur took a moment to appreciate the two pristine asses presenting for him side by side, a sly minx and a submissive bunny girl on the plush rug, sweat shimmering in the firelight. Predator and prey. Fuck.

Pro Tip: Tears of joy are acceptable in this situation.

He gave each perfect pussy a generous lick. Then he teased Ana's Easter basket with the head of his cock, massaging Larks lips with his fingers for a moment before pushing his fingers in. They both gasped and squirmed. Arthur continued until Ana tried to push back onto his dick. He switched, sinking his fingers into Ana's pussy, while he smoothly pushed his cock against Larks entrance until she stretched to accommodate him and he slid in while she squealed. He set a steady pace of thrusts and matched his finger movements in Ana. Lark pulled Ana to her, kissing her mouth eagerly.

Ana's face was wild eyed with need and desire and kissed Lark back ravenously.

"Please!... I'll give you anything. One million dollars... ten million dollars... please give it to me..." she panted as her aching pussy shuddered and her body began to tighten again. Arthur increased his pace, thrusting deeper and faster into Lark.

"You can't buy this. Will you live every day to be worthy of this gift?" Arthur asked, grunting as he tried his best to hold back his own growing climax and he felt Lark start to tighten.

"Yes!... Yes! Make me a Mommy! Make me a Mommy!" She screamed.

Lark quivered and fell forward. Arthur quickly pivoted, plunging into Ana's sopping pussy. With a primal scream, Ana spasmed in orgasm and Arthur pulled her hips to him firmly and filled her with baby batter, pumping load after load until it dripped down her thighs.

Arthur stood up and helped Lark to her feet. She gave him a high five and a slap on the ass. "World Peace." She whispered to him.

They left Ana recovering on the plush rug, panting, smiling, rubbing her belly. Arthur knew he'd have to replace that rug now, but it was worth it.

"Arthur makes a great middle name." Lark sang as they walked away.

Waffles 35 Recovery Program, Year 10, Day 74, Breakfast

"I am the wealthiest man in the world." Arthur thought as he poured milk on the third bowl of fruit loops and passed it to Lark who started feeding it to the 1-year-old in a high chair while the other two kids munched on theirs.

"47%. Seriously? 47% of new births have Arthur as their middle name." Lark said, glancing at her tablet. Arthur grinned victoriously.

"You'd better hurry or you'll be late for your morning appointment." Lark said.

"The usual?" Arthur asked.

"It's Tuesday, right? Yes. That Polish lacrosse team captain looks pretty spirited. Make sure you save some energy for me." She said with a wink.

"Ah, Frisky Dingo. You could help me?" he suggested, pulling a shirt onto a wiggling two-year-old.

"Marco can't babysit tonight. You're going to have to go solo." She said.

He claimed his hugs from the little ones and stood up to head out.

"Wait."Lark said, grabbing his hand, pulling him in for a kiss. She slipped a Hot Wheels and an acorn into his hand. "I'll be watching."