IMPREGNATED BY MY HUSBAND'S TWIN I

♡RUBY♡

I lay there on my bed with my fingers buried deep inside my soaking pussy, rubbing my clit in frantic circles.

God, I needed to cum so bad.

I'd been at it for what felt like forever, picturing Connor's cock slamming into me, filling me up the way I'd dreamed about since our wedding night. But no matter how hard I tried; nothing happened. My orgasm stayed just out of reach, teasing me like a cruel fucking joke. I would get so close with my pussy clenching desperately around my fingers, but it wouldn't tip over.

Why the hell couldn't I cum? It had been like this for months. I'd touch myself every night after Connor ignored me, chasing that release that never came without him. But even when he did fuck me, it wasn't enough. He'd made me wait until marriage and promised me the world back then. Two years in, and I'd only felt his cock inside me three times.

The first was on our honeymoon. He'd had too many drinks at the resort bar and stumbled into our room with that sloppy grin. He pushed me onto the bed, yanked my panties aside, and shoved in. It hurt at first, but I was wet enough from the anticipation. Three minutes later, he finished and rolled off. I lay there aching, with my pussy still hungry, but he just slept snoring away.

The second time, he'd come back from a business trip, reeking of whiskey. He cornered me in the bathroom while I was brushing my teeth. Bent me over the sink, hiked up my skirt, and fucked me from behind. Quick, rough thrusts that barely hit the right spots. He pulled out before he came, shooting on my ass because he always used protection otherwise. I didn't even get close. He washed up and left me there, dripping and unsatisfied.

The last one was eight months ago on his birthday. Another drunk night. He woke me up at 2 a.m., climbed on top, and pumped away. No foreplay, no care if I felt good. Two minutes, maybe three, and he was out. He softened inside me before I could even moan properly and went to the bathroom to clean up. I touched myself after he passed out, but even then, I couldn't cum. Just like now.

Drunk Connor barely lasted and didn't care if I came or not. Sober Connor? He didn't touch me at all. Always working late, always on trips, always distant. He'd even moved to the guest room months ago, claiming he didn't want to wake me with his late nights.

Sometimes I wondered if he only fucked me when he was wasted because sober him couldn't stand the thought. I'd catch myself wondering if he even wanted me at all. Why marry me? He knew I dreamed of a real family, with kids running around and a husband who couldn't keep his hands off me. But at this rate, I'd be old and gray before we even tried.

My pussy craved him more than my own fingers; it needed him, or anyone, to fill it, to make me scream. But deep down I knew that person wouldn't be Connor. Unless hell tipped over and he suddenly got interested in me.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, jolting me out of my failed attempt. I pulled my hand away, the slick fingers leaving a wet trail on my thigh as I grabbed it. It was a text from Connor: "I'll be home in 20. We need to talk."

Talk? My pulse raced. Our second anniversary was last weekend, and he'd forgotten about it completely. He spent the day golfing with his buddies while I sat home alone with the surprise dinner I'd made for him.

Maybe he'd remembered, felt guilty, and this was his way of making it up. A surprise dinner? Or better—him finally seeing me and wanting me?

I glanced at the calendar on my phone. Yeah, I was ovulating, that fertile window where everything felt heightened and my body screamed for seed. If we fucked tonight, and if he skipped the condom like he never did, maybe... just maybe I could get pregnant.

A baby could fix this mess. Give Connor a reason to stay home, to care. And me? Something to love, to fill the empty days since he wouldn't let me work. "Stay home, Ruby," he'd said. "I make enough for both of us." Like I was some trophy to dust off when convenient.

I stripped off my clothes and headed to the bathroom, turning the shower on hot. Steam filled the room as I stepped under the spray, letting the water pound my skin. I grabbed the razor and shaved everything; my legs, my underarms, and especially my pussy. I wanted it smooth, bare and ready for him. The blade glided over my mound, nicking away every hair until my lips were silky and sensitive. I rinsed off, soaping up my tits and my ass, making sure I smelled clean and inviting. My nipples hardened under my palms, begging for attention, but I pushed the urge down.

Save it for Connor.

I got out of the shower and dug out my sexiest lingerie; the set I'd bought on a whim last year, hoping to spark something. Black lace, sheer enough to tease, with a bra that cupped my tits just right, pushing them up into soft cleavage that begged to be grabbed. The thong was barely there. It was a thin strip that disappeared between my ass cheeks and the front panel was translucent over my shaved pussy. Lastly, the garters that were clipped to thigh-high stockings, framing my curves like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. 

Then, I popped my folic acid pill, washing it down with water from my water bottle on the nightstand. The doctor had told me to take them daily for better chances if I was trying. And God, was I trying.

Dressed and primed, I went to the small office nook where we kept the cameras. Connor had installed them for 'security,' but I knew he liked watching playback sometimes. I rewound the feed from the front door. He had arrived ten minutes ago and slipped in quietly. There he was no buzz from the garage, so he must have parked out back. He was probably in the guest room by now.

I took a deep breath to calm my racing heart and walked down the hall to the guest room. His door was slightly opened, and I heard the shower running inside. Perfect. More time to steady my nerves. My heart hammered as I pushed the door open wider and stepped in. The room smelled like his cologne and another masculine scent that was unfamiliar. 

I climbed onto the bed leaned back on my elbows, spreading my legs wide. The thong pulled tight against my wet pussy throbbing and aching for him to see and to want.

But what if he said no? Again. Like all those nights I'd tried slipping into the bed naked, brushing against him in the kitchen, wearing short skirts around the house. I was given hundreds of rejections that I had stopped trying until today. What if he laughed when he saw me? Or worse, ignored me completely? My mind spun with doubts but I stayed there with my legs splayed willing him to notice me. Just this once.

The shower shut off and water dripped somewhere in the bathroom. My breath caught and my stomach twisted into knots. But I waited.

Finally, the door creaked open, and Connor stepped out.