Path 3 – Rebecca Keagan / The Proposition Route** **New Branch – The Blind Woman, the Payment & the Pregnant Dream** *(BlacknWhite Continuum – Campus Authority District)* *(Husband’s name: Bill)*

**Path 3 – Rebecca Keagan / The Proposition Route**

New Branch – The Blind Woman, the Payment & the Pregnant Dream

(BlacknWhite Continuum – Campus Authority District)

(Husband’s name: Bill)

The house was quiet except for the soft shuffle of slippers on hardwood.

Rebecca stood in the upstairs hallway wearing nothing but a thin white tank top that barely covered the tops of her thighs. Her panties were still downstairs on the living-room floor where Taylor had tossed them earlier. She could still feel the faint, sticky trickle of his cum between her legs. The session had ended only twenty minutes ago. He had left through the back door with a thick fold of bills and a promise to upload the new video to their private chat before midnight.

Now she just needed to get her panties back without being seen.

She started down the stairs, heart hammering, and froze halfway when a frail voice called out from the living room.

“Who’s there?”

Rebecca’s blood turned to ice. The old woman—Bill’s great-aunt, visiting for the week and almost completely blind—was still awake.

“It’s just me, don’t worry…” Rebecca called, forcing her voice to stay light. She clutched the hem of the tank top and tried to make herself smaller.

“Oh, it’s you, dear. I can barely see a thing.” The old woman squinted in her general direction, eyes milky and unfocused. “Everything is very blurry.”

Rebecca’s shoulders dropped in relief. Thank God… that makes things a lot easier.

“I just came down for something,” she said, already moving toward the discarded thong near the couch. “Go back to sleep, Auntie.”

“Well, I’m going to rest a little, dear.”

“Okay… sleep well.”

Rebecca snatched the panties, clutched them in one fist, and hurried back upstairs before the old woman could ask any more questions. Only when the bedroom door was locked behind her did she let out the breath she had been holding.

Damn it… she’s still here. But at least she can’t see.

She cleaned up as best she could in the master bathroom, hid the fresh stack of bills Taylor had given her in the usual shoebox, and finally allowed herself to sit on the edge of the bed. Her phone buzzed. A notification from the private chat.

Taylor had uploaded the video.

Rebecca put in her earbuds, turned the volume low, and pressed play.

The screen filled with her own body—bent over the living-room couch, pink top shoved up, white skirt around her waist, Taylor’s thick black cock driving into her from behind. The wet slap of skin on skin came through the earbuds with perfect clarity. She watched herself moan, watched her heavy breasts swing, watched the exact moment she had pushed back to meet every thrust. Further into the video he flipped her over, pushed her legs wide, and fucked her slow and deep while the camera captured every ripple of her ass and the way her pussy stretched around him.

Rebecca’s free hand slid between her thighs almost without permission. She was still sensitive, still slightly open from earlier. The wet sounds from the video mixed with her own quiet breathing as she rubbed slow circles over her clit and watched Taylor empty himself inside her on screen.

“Ahhh… that was intense…” she whispered to the empty bedroom.

She came quietly, thighs trembling, then forced herself to stop the video and put the phone away. Bill would be home soon. The children were already asleep. She needed to look normal.

Across town, in a dimly lit private room at the strip club, Ginger—the red-headed dancer who had once shared a faculty lounge with Rebecca—was finishing a private dance. Her client groaned as he came into the tissue she held ready. She smiled, collected the thick tip, and stepped out to change for her next set.

Three more private dances. Twenty or thirty minutes each. The money was better than teaching had ever been. She looked at herself in the mirror, adjusted the tiny sequined top, and went back out onto the main floor.

That night Rebecca fell asleep beside Bill with the taste of the video still in her mind.

The dream began the way the real sessions always did.

She was on her back in her own bed. Taylor was between her legs, thick cock buried to the root, fucking her with long, powerful strokes. Bill slept on, completely unaware, only inches away. The contradiction only made the dream hotter.

“Take this big dick, Mrs. K…”

“Ahhh… yes… fuck me harder!”

Taylor’s hands pinned her wrists above her head. Every thrust dragged against the spot that made her vision white out. She came once, then again, the second orgasm strong enough that she would have cried out if the dream had allowed it. Taylor pulled out only long enough to show her the thick cream of his cum leaking from her open pussy, then pushed back in and kept going.

“Look at all this cum I left inside you, Mrs. K…”

He fucked her through a third climax before the dream shifted.

Suddenly she was standing in her own kitchen, but her body was different. Her belly was huge, round, and heavy with pregnancy. Her breasts were fuller, the areolas darker. Taylor stood behind her, hands already under the stretched maternity top, cupping the weight of her.

“I came to check on my baby.”

“Your… baby?”

“That’s right… you’ve got my baby in that big belly.”

Rebecca’s dream-self felt a jolt of pure, forbidden heat. Taylor bent her over the kitchen counter, the heavy curve of her pregnant stomach hanging down, and pushed into her from behind in one smooth stroke.

“This pregnant pussy is mine now.”

“Ahhh… Taylor…!”

He fucked her hard, the wet slap of his hips against her ass echoing in the dream-kitchen. Her belly swayed with every thrust. The stretch felt deeper, the fullness more overwhelming. She came with a broken cry, walls clamping down around him.

“Look at you… pregnant and still taking this big dick.”

“Fuck… it’s so deep…”

Taylor lifted her as if she weighed nothing and carried her to the dining table, laying her on her back so the heavy belly rose between them like a claim. He pushed back inside and fucked her in long, rolling strokes that made the table creak. Rebecca’s dream-hands clutched at his shoulders, at her own belly, at anything she could reach.

“You love getting fucked pregnant, don’t you?”

“Yes… I love it… don’t stop!”

He came with a low groan, flooding her already-full pussy with another thick load. She felt every pulse, the heat of it, the way it mixed with the earlier release still inside her. Taylor stayed buried, grinding slowly, until the last drop was spent.

“You’re my pregnant whore now.”

“Yes… I’m your pregnant whore…”

The dream began to fracture. The kitchen melted. The heavy belly vanished. Rebecca’s eyes flew open in the real bedroom, heart pounding, panties soaked, the phantom sensation of Taylor’s cock still throbbing between her legs.

Her phone was vibrating on the nightstand.

Bill stirred beside her, voice thick with sleep. “Who’s calling at this hour?”

Rebecca reached for the phone with a trembling hand, the last images of the pregnant dream still burning behind her eyes.

“I… I don’t know…”

The screen showed Taylor’s name.

The Proposition Route had followed her into sleep.

And it was already waiting for her when she woke.

Branch choices now available:

1. Rebecca answers the late-night call – Taylor wants another session the next day.

2. Bill notices how wet she is and initiates sex while the dream is still fresh.

3. The old woman’s stay is extended; Rebecca has to keep sneaking around.

4. The pregnancy dream begins to feel less like fantasy and more like a possible future.

Tell me which branch you want expanded next.