You take a pregnancy test (Tom is the daddy ending)

You cry when the test comes back with a plus sign. You try another and it says the same thing. You're pregnant. The only possible father is Tom Cleft. Sara hasn't been returning your calls after that threesome. You can't tell her. You wait for her car to leave and call over to her house. Tom answers.

"We need to talk," you say.

An hour later you are parked in a garage downtown. Cars are coming and going in the dark, concrete structure. It smells like gas fumes. Tom is stunned by the news. You somehow manage not to cry.

"If my stepdad finds out about this, he's going to come over to your house with a shotgun and blow your head off," you say. "I can never tell them that the neighbor lady's husband knocked me up."

"I'll pay for it," he says. "I'll find a way to get you all the money you need. Nobody has to know about this. Not even my wife."

The idea of telling Sara fills you with sadness. You loved her once. Thought you had a future with her. Now here you are in a darkened parking garage planning some secret arrangement with her husband - the future father of your baby.

"Everything will be okay," Tom says and puts an arm around you.

You lean back against his shoulder and fight back the tears. He feels so strong and grown up. He smells like aftershave. You remember the feel of him inside you and you can't help it, you turn your face to him and kiss him. Your lips part. His hand cups your breast through your shirt, slides under, lifts the cup of your bra to stroke your bare tit and pinch your nipple.

His hand fumbles at his zipper and he drags it down, his hard cock popping out. You glance around the parking garage once and then lower your mouth over his raging prick. You push the hair from your face and he holds it, pushing your head down, using you like a toy on his cock. The car fills with the sounds of your blowjob. Your neck hurts. Your jaw is sore. You keep at it, battering his cock with your tongue until he groans and blasts his hot spermy load into your mouth. You suck it all out of him and swallow it.

He drives you to a hotel and strips you with anxious hands. You look at him in the light and you want him badly. You imagine what your kid is going to look like. Dark hair, handsome, muscular. He lifts your legs and slides between your swollen lips. He fucks in and out of you until you cum beneath him, then turns you over, flat out on the bed, and lays above you, fucking into you from behind, his pelvis heavy against your soft ass. He doesn't say anything or warn you, he just cums deep inside you, pumping your teenage womb full of another load. After he has cum he lays atop you for a while, dripping sweat and slowly shriveling inside you.

Tom Cleft is not a father to the baby you give birth to nine months later. He sneaks you money and occasionally fucks you in a seedy motel or in the back of his family SUV. Your college hopes have been delayed. Your boyfriends are all short-term. They love your sexy body (back in shape in weeks) but they can't stand your crying infant or your late nights of breastfeeding.

Tom doesn't mind all that. When you see him he sucks your tender tits until you fill his mouth with your milk. He squeezes your breasts while he fucks you and the warm liquid sprays into the air, coating your milk-swollen breasts and your open mouth and lips.

Secretly fucking the much older neighbor while trying to raise a baby was not the future you planned for yourself, but it could be worse. At least you're financially taken care of. Tom groans and fucks you from behind you feel him throbbing and filling up a condom with his cum. You work your inner muscles, milking his load. He pulls out of you and you strip off the rubber and suck his cummy cock. As you blow him in the shabby motel you think about his beautiful wife, Sara, and the bright future you never shared.