I think he misunderstood my intention.

My bad. I’ll give him a blowjob later.

But now that he’s armed with a condom, we better get right down to business.

With the lights of the city behind us, I sit on the window ledge and spread my legs for him. I’m his for the taking.

Of course I’m having a little trouble concentrating on the sex. His condom problem is, well, kind of unnerving.

Part of me wants to rush off and consult Dr. Google. I mean, if anyone can offer help, it’s the great search engine of the Interwebz.

I bet if we type in need help to get rid of need to wear condom during sex all the time or some similar shit, there’d be thousands of returns. Admittedly, it would not be in the millions, but how many different ways do you need to read about solving the same problem, right?

I’ve never understood why you get like a bazillion search results when you search for something.

What’s the point? Two or three pages, about thirty results, would be just fine. I hardly ever get to page two on search results.

Anyway, I can’t help but think Daniel might be stumbling around in the dark about his problem because he doesn’t actually want to find a solution.

It’s pretty obvious to me. With so many women wanting to have his child and openly talking about it on any social media outlet that will let them, I’m surprised needing to wear a condom during a pussy fuck is his only problem.

I guess I should be grateful he’s still able to fuck. It would be so much worse if he couldn’t do it at all. Sex with condom is better than no sex and no condom.

The thoughts are getting me confused right now.

I’m so distracted I don’t realize at first that Daniel is pulling me off the ledge and toward the ultra-comfortable, super-soft leather lounge.

It’s the kind of lounge you never want to leave once you’re sitting on it. As he pushes me onto it, I sigh.

Instead of lying on my back and facing him, he rolls me over so I’m face down. I push myself up on my arms and present him with my ass. Part of the reason I do this is I fear I may just fall asleep on my tummy on this gorgeous couch.

Daniel rubs my ass and lets his fingers go down to my pussy. The tip of his cock is poking at my cheeks.

Without any command from me, my ass is pushing toward him, begging him to enter me. But Daniel’s quite content to play with me.

His fingers tease my clit and draw little circles all around it, touching it only every now and again.

I push against him again and lower my upper body a little.

This man is a fucking expert at pleasuring me and driving me insane with desire. If he doesn’t push his massive cock into me like right fucking now, I might die from anticipation.

Why a man with his skill level has any kind of sexual problem is beyond me.

Is needing to wear latex even a sexual problem? I don’t think so. Like even saying sexual and problem in the same sentence when referring to Daniel is totally an oxymoron.

Yeah, so not a sexual problem. Sounds totally like a psychological problem to me, though. I mean, I’m no fucking psychologist, but I know most problems as far as sex is concerned are psychological.

My grandma was a firm believer that there’s no such thing as a fertility problem. If a couple can’t conceive, it’s because they’re too stressed about wanting or needing to have a baby. I don’t know about all that, but you get my point.

Wanting a baby. I so want a baby. Daniel’s baby.

There’s no doubt in my mind now.

But if I’m going to have his baby, he’s gonna need to have sex with me without a fucking condom.

Could I manipulate the condom beforehand? Would he notice if I prick a tiny hole into? Would a tiny hole be enough for the sperm to fit through?

Argh. What the hell am I thinking? I’m starting to sound like his crazy, obsessive ex-girlfriends or wannabe girlfriends on social media.

But what will we do about it?

So many fucking questions and so few answers.

Suddenly I wish I didn’t know about his problem, although no—no, I definitely need to know about it.

It puts our whole fucking bargain at risk.

Um, if we ever actually make the deal, that is.

I feel my own juices being spread between my legs and on my ass, and I push all these thoughts away to focus on what’s really important here—Daniel fucking me.

I close my eyes. Wherever he touches me, he leaves a trail of burning desire. The ecstasy is building in me, rising to a crescendo.

And then without further warning, the tip of his cock is hovering at my pussy.

My hot cunt grabs for the object of its desire, but he’s not quite in far enough for there to be success. My hips thrust back toward him, and slowly, the tip of his cock pushes into me.

My back arches, and my tits dangle below me. I wish his hands would cup them, play with them, and squeeze them, but right now he’s digging them into my ass.

I throw my head back and look over my shoulder.

Little beads of sweat roll down his chest. While I can’t see his motor neurons, I know they must be working at maximum capacity―his abdominal and chest muscles contracting and relaxing in rhythm with his pelvic thrust.

Wow.

I can’t believe how fucking good-looking he is—sexy as hell, really, particularly when he’s fucking me like this, doggy style. I fucking love it.

Mesmerized, I watch his left hand leave my ass and reach for my tits. He first pinches and squeezes my left nipple before moving on the right one. Since they’re both for the taking, he wastes no time in giving them the attention they deserve.

Over and over, I replay his words of not being able to fuck without a condom. It seems so strange―and I can’t help but wonder if he’s got another agenda.

But what exactly that could be is beyond me.

Is he making up the condom story so I won’t get pregnant? But what would the advantage be to him? Why would he do it?

I can’t see any fucking reason for stringing me along that way. If he doesn’t want to go ahead with the deal, then he could just come out and say so.

It’s not as if Daniel has a shortage of women. He doesn’t need me. Any number of chicks out there would trade places with me right away, I know that for damn sure.

I feel him increase his speed. I listen to the sound his balls make as they hit against my naked ass cheeks. It’s a kind of splat sound.

Splat. Splat. Splat.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Me. Me. Me.

I push against him to increase the sensations.

By now, I’m crazy horny and not far from coming—again. I can’t believe he can make me come so many times in one night.

Previous boyfriends barely managed to get me to come at all. Sometimes I’d fake my own orgasm, just to make sure they got their ego boost. Imagine if you let a guy know he didn’t make you come.

Not Daniel, though. No faking for this man. Actually, he’s more like a Greek or Roman sex god, that’s how fucking good he is.

What starts as a tiny flicker of pleasure in my belly soon grows into a raging fire of desire. Where his hands touch my body, he leaves scorch marks, and his cock inside my pussy is sheer rapture.

With each inward thrust, the walls of my pussy contract around his growing cock. How his cock can still be growing inside my tight space is beyond me, but it sure as fuck does.

Tiny fireworks go off inside my pussy as he thrusts harder and faster.

When eventually I lose myself in my orgasm, wave after wave of pleasure rips through me and threatens to drown me.

My muscles contract and relax in rapid succession, threatening to fucking strangle his cock.

When I feel his grip tighten around my tits and ass, I know he’s about to come himself. Briefly, his body stiffens before he explodes his load into his condom.

After a while, I relax my arms to lie down. He stays on top of me and inside of me.

I feel him kiss the back of my neck before he starts to nibble and suck on my ear lobe.

“Sorry,” he whispers into my ear, and I say nothing.

What can I say? Before I know what to do with the information about the condom and Daniel, I need to come to terms with it myself.

Right now, it’s too hard to think about and work out exactly what it means. And of course I want to do my own research on the matter to see what kind of solutions other people offer on the matter.

If one thing is certain, it’s that Daniel is not the first or only guy with this kind of difficulty, and somewhere will be a solution.

I feel him roll off me and snuggle into my back. I make room for him and just lie there.

“It’ll be alright,” he says, and now I turn to look at him.

“Of course it’ll be alright,” I confirm with a smile. Because no way am I letting this guy go.

In fact, at this point, I’m starting to wonder if having a baby with him is even on the top of my list.

If it came down to it, what would I choose? A baby? Or Daniel?